Donner Elementary, September 6, 2007. She left the keys dangling in the ignition as all traffic halted three blocks from the elementary school. Lois bolted out of the car, frantic with worry, and she sprinted to the play area from the South side. A barricade had been set up along the perimeter with anxious parents huddled everywhere, demanding to be reunited with their children who were under police guard in the gymnasium until further notice. Squad cars dotted the landscape, as well as a few SWAT trucks, and Lois felt the knot grow in her stomach as she approached a young cadet standing next to one of the hurdles.
"Ma'am, I'm afraid I can't let you in here," he told her firmly. It was then that Lois spied the blood on the ground near the play equipment. She grew even more frantic.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WON'T LET ME IN HERE?!?! MY SON IS IN THERE! HOW DARE YOU KEEP US FROM OUR CHILDREN! I WANT TO SEE MY SON…"
"MOMMY!!!" Jason cried from behind one of the SWAT trucks. He broke free of another officer's grip and ran almost at super-speed toward his Mother. The officer was surprised; he thought he had a pretty good hold on the boy, but apparently the six year old was a lot stronger than he looked.
She got down on her knees and squeezed her son tight before holding him out at arm's length to examine him. Lois ran her hands all over, searching for a cut or a bruise and finding frightened tears instead. "Jason, Baby, are you ok? I was so worried about you! What happened? Oh Baby, I'm so glad you're alright…"
"They took him, Mommy…" the boy let out in-between sobs.
"They took who, Baby?'
"Superman! He came to save me and they hurt him and they took him!" He began to cry harder and Lois pulled her child close once more, not wanting him to see the increased anxiety on her own face. Nobody just takes Superman…oh God what happened here? Just then a woman in a black pant suit came out from behind the truck and walked toward her.
"Are you this child's Mother?" she asked Lois.
"Yes, I'm Lois Lane…"
"As in Daily Planet reporter and friend of Superman?" Lois could only nod. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to follow me; Officer let them pass," the young man did as he was told and Lois stood up, picking up Jason and following the young woman to the SWAT vehicle.
"Miss Lane, I'm Special Agent Clarissa Woodrow, and I'm afraid that someone used your son as bait this afternoon to lure the Man of Steel into a very elaborate trap."
"Have you managed to locate those responsible yet?"
"Not yet but we're using every available resource to track them down."
Lois' face fell at the disappointing news. "How did it happen?"
"Well, as best we can tell, whoever is behind this set it up months ago. The new play area was lined underground with Kryptonite and covered with a light layer of lead; when Superman arrived all they had to do was pop the ground pieces off and expose him to it. Based on eyewitness accounts he was able to fend them off for several minutes before one of them took a green club and hit him over the head, knocking him out cold. They dragged him away to a waiting vehicle and fled before the authorities even got here."
"Nick Finneran," Lois said coldly.
"Excuse me?" Special Agent Woodrow asked.
"Nick Finneran's 'charitable donation' was what built this playground. My partner C-Clark Kent and I," she struggled to get his name out, her mind a whirl of fear for the unknown danger he was in "…we also suspected him of being involved in the Kryptonite smuggling ring a few months ago, but couldn't find substantial enough proof for our boss." She nearly started to cry at the thought of the missed warning signals, but she knew she had to stay strong in order to help the authorities find Clark faster.
"I'll send a squad car over to pick Finneran up for questioning, and I'd also like to look over your notes as well." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "We suspect Lex Luthor's involved in this too. It has his M.O. written all over it."
Lois nodded mutely; who else would know to use Jason than someone who knew about their special boy? "Call the Planet and ask for Jimmy Olsen; tell him I'm sending you and he'll get you everything you need." The Special Agent took down the name and phone number before passing it off to an associate of hers to follow up on.
"Miss Lane, any idea why they targeted your son…?" Before Lois could answer a head popped out of the van.
"We got some footage from the market across the street, Clarissa. I think you're going to want to take a look at this," Special Agent Chase said, his eyes looking from her to Lois to Jason. Lois thought she saw his eyes grow a little wider upon noticing her son, but didn't dwell too much on it. Without an invitation, Lois followed Agent Woodrow into the van.
The video was black and white with no sound, and centered mostly on the front of the little convenience store and on the west side of the playground. The agent behind the video monitor hit the 'Play' button as everyone focused their attention to the upper most portion of the screen. The men dragging Jason quickly came into view; he averted his eyes and buried his head in the safety of his Mother's shoulder. She watched in horror at the men who had tried to kidnap her son, then saw Superman land and extrapolate him from the thug's grip and pass him off to someone off camera, quickly giving him orders. Shortly thereafter more men began filling the play area and the puzzle pieces flew up off the ground. Lois couldn't watch anymore either and stroked Jason's head as she focused her energy on calming him down. What caught her attention next was a large delivery van filling up the screen, then hastily driving away.
Lois excused herself and stepped outside, pulling her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and dialing 411. "Smallville, Kansas please. Kent," she said. The phone seemed to ring an inordinately long time before the elderly woman answered.
"Hello?"
"Martha, it's Lois."
"Oh hi, Sweetheart, it's so nice to hear from you…" Lois let out a strangled sob. "What is it?" Martha asked frantically. "Is everything alright? Where's Clark?"
"Oh Martha," she choked out. "You need to get to Metropolis right away…he's been kidnapped!" Lois heard the phone on the other end go crashing to the floor.
"???", Day 1. Clark woke up tied to a wooden chair in the middle of a dark room. His head was still reeling from the earlier blow as he tried to focus in on his surroundings, ineffectively searching for an exit. He rubbed his rope-bound wrists then pulled them apart, hoping enough of his strength had returned to enable him to get out of his bonds. It hadn't—if anything, he felt weaker than he had on the playground.
The only light that entered the room came from underneath the door frame, and as he noticed it he caught a glint of green bouncing off a nearby wall. Slowly he realized that the mineral that had reflected the light was embedded in all the walls around him.This cell is laced with Kryptonite…he thought, now frantically tugging at the rope. His reporter's mind worked feverishly, trying to connect the dots that had landed him here. Luthor…he recalled arriving at that conclusion back on the playground. But how?
The door swung open to reveal a figure standing in the doorway, framed by the artificial light. He couldn't make out the person's face, but the voice sent a chill down his spine.
"Good evening, Superman, so nice of you to join us. I do believe it's time for your close-up," the raspy voice said. Turning his attention to his attendants, he barked out "Bring him!"
Two beefy men entered the room, hauling Superman up to his feet. He twisted and jabbed at them with his elbows, trying to break free of their grip.
"Leave the cape," Lex Luthor snapped from his spot in the hallway. One of the men made to move his hand to the back of Superman's neck; Clark turned and was able to muster enough strength to burn him with the last of his heat vision. The other fellow, who was sporting a large purple bruise above his left eye, punched Clark in the gut, causing him to double over in pain. Together the two got the cape off of him and ushered him out and down the hall.
The cinder block walls had been white-washed and a string of construction lights were tracing their way to an unknown destination. He gathered by the lack of windows that they were holed up somewhere underground, which meant that there'd be no chance of the sun's healing rays reaching him and eradicating the effects of the Kryptonite poisoning. They turned a corner, Clark stumbling along in their grasp, and opened a wooden door at the end of the corridor.
The interior of the room before him was reminiscent of Luthor's first hide-out in the abandoned subway station all those years ago. There was a large library and desk on his left that had been partially closed off by a long black curtain hanging from the ceiling. In front of him was another dark curtain, blocking whatever was behind it from view; Clark attempted to use his x-ray vision, but it too was gone. On his right he saw a plush seating area with two large leather armchairs and one shabby wooden stool situated in front of an ornate fireplace. Luthor strode over to the empty armchair as his seated partner stood up.
"Nick Finneran," Clark said through clenched teeth. His captors pushed him forward and seated him roughly on the stool.
"See now, and my partner didn't think you would remember him," Luthor said in a gravelly voice laced with sarcasm.
"Yes, Lex, you have proven me wrong once again. Just like earlier today, when I was afraid Section 13 of the plan wouldn't work…but you had faith my friend, you had faith," he glanced over at his chrome-headed partner and shared an evil smile.
"And I bet you," Lex said, pointing to Superman, "never suspected that I would take a partner either. Well you, Miss Lane and Mayor Dunne made that choice for me when you declared me public enemy number one. The greatest, and most wanted, criminal mastermind of our time couldn't very well go waltzing through the streets of Metropolis setting this plan in motion.
"So, once I got off that godforsaken island I was stranded on after New Krypton…nice name by the way, must have brought back a lot of old memories for you—I'll be sure to thank Lois myself next time I see her…"
"LEAVE LOIS OUT OF THIS!!!" Clark snarled at him, straining under the hands of the thugs.
"Now now, is that anyway to treat your hosts? As I was saying, I set about recuperating and formulating my next plan after I managed my last escape. You'll have to forgive this coarse throat of mine…it never quite recovered from sixty-two days under a scorching sun with a paucity of viable drinking water. Money can't buy everything you know! When I was sufficiently well I began to search for a partner to help me implement my scheme. Mr. Finneran was a ready and willing candidate; he had the history with you to drive him, the connections I needed to get things done, and the financial expertise to cover our tracks more assuredly than any of these goons ever could," he said indicating the rough-looking men standing about the room with them. "Now, Superman, I'm sure you have a lot of questions running through that inferior alien mind of yours, so let us see if we can't answer a few of them now, shall we?"
Clark grimaced at the insult and turned to face Finneran. "Why?"
The younger man got a mean look on his face as he started to speak. "Because six years ago I came this close…THIS CLOSE…to getting everything I ever wanted, when that reporter exposed me and you swooped in and ruined EVERYTHING!!! They locked me away for almost two years, and you know what? They thought they'd reformed me, but I managed to pick up a few new tricks in White Collar Crime School; nobody knew it, but they'd released me a smarter man than they'd locked me away.
"When I was paroled for good behavior some Japanese investors sought me out and asked me about a directorial position at Marganic. They had sense enough not to stick me in the accounting department, but they recognized a shrewd business person when they saw one, so I took the job and created a squeaky clean image of myself for the public: a model of the system, the man who was reformed and who became a contributing member of Metropolis society.
"But my overseas investors underestimated my talents. A few strategically placed commas here, a couple of dummy accounts there, and PRESTO! I was back in business. And when Luthor came along with his business proposal, I vowed then and there not to let you get in the way of stopping me AGAIN!" Finneran finished, punching Superman squarely on the left side of his jaw, the force of which almost knocked him off his seat. He strained himself trying to get upright again as the blood trickled down the corner of his mouth and his sweaty hair fell to the front of his face, erasing the regal Kryptonian curl.
"And you, Luthor?" Clark snapped, turning to the other man. "Kidnapping me is only going to send you further underground, not above it."
"Au contraire, Superman! You see, keeping you here, holding you hostage on the world stage, will help me reach my ultimate goal of land acquisition. Without you there always putting a halt to my plans I'll be able to raise enough capital to buy my way back to the top.
"So you're right, in a way, this isn't land; but it's a step in the process toward acquiring it, and when I do, I'll sacrifice a portion of it for your grave," Luthor hissed before moving to hit him on the right side of his face. Clark had enough presence of mind to duck out of the way and Luthor missed, but one of the thugs came forward and grabbed a fistful of his dark hair, holding him in place as Lex's fist connected first with his jaw, then with his gut. Superman was once again doubled over, gasping for breath.
"Let's bring our guest over to the viewing area, shall we?" Lex asked, turning to his partner.
A sneer appeared on Finneran's face. "Yes, let's."
The thugs hauled Superman up to his feet by grabbing him under the armpits and pushed him in the direction of the large black curtain in the center of the room. The two businessmen passed through the opening first, followed by a stumbling Clark.
His eyes went wide in horror and he had to force himself to breathe. On the far side of the room was a wall of expensive video recording equipment being controlled by a hefty red-headed man. There were also several large computers and TV screens monitoring different news channels in Metropolis as well as all over the world.
But the sight that caused Clark the most concern was the large boxing ring set-up in the center of the space, and the hulking man flexing his muscles in readiness in the middle of it.
A/N: M.O. stands for Modus Operandi, or motive.