Clark Kent walked into the Newsroom of the Daily Star, his mood was sombre. Superman had experienced a vision of a long dead world, as Kal-El he now knew more about his birth parents and his distant alien origins.

Jor-El had deliberately left more questions unanswered than he had attempted to answer, more over that was a direct challenge to his son. Superman knew he must rise to rise to meet these expectations, if not for himself, as much as Clark wanted to know all he could about Krypton, but for the greater good.

Doffing his hat and sitting down at his desk, the Man of Tomorrow checked his in tray and listened to the room.

Oddly he found the mood even more sombre than his own.

"Hey Kent. Welcome back." Curly Lombard was however unabashed. "What to you reckon? Our own Lois Lane a killer?"

"What?" Clark spat.

Lombard parked his backside on the edge of Clark's desk, he sucked on a cheroot. "Yeah the Star's one and only fearless girl reporter seen gunning down an old boyfriend - over a pile of cash."

"That's crazy."

"That's dames for you Kent." Curly said coolly. "Good thing you've moved onto that kitten De Winters, I bet she purrs real sweet."

Clark grabbed Curly's collar. "Shut up Lombard." He pulled him off the desk driving him to the floor, before remembering himself and stumbling back.

"Gosh Steve did you slip there, do you need a hand."
"What's going on here?" Taylor barked across the room. "Curly you better not be drunk. Get up."

Lombard gave Clark a black angry stare, uncertain what had happened, but bitter enough to blame the younger man for his embarrassment.

"Kent – my office now." The Chief ordered.

Clark duly appeared inside the Editors inner sanctum.

"Sorry Mr Taylor, it wasn't how it seemed out there..."

"Button it Kent, I don't give a damn, listen up. Now you're back, there is a story I want you cover."

Taylor passed him a letter.

"This Professor, a fellow at Metropolis University has been on my back about a Comet that's headed towards Earth; I smell a story in here providing you can decipher the science jargon and translate this into American."

Clark glanced at the letter immediately reading it in it's entirety.

"Chief I appreciate you've tagged me as the science guy, but I've just heard about Lois..."

"Kent. I know you are sweet on that girl, heck any idiot can see that, beats me why a mouse like you would want to tame a tiger like that one, but I'm not writing the Love Lorn column either; however that is exactly what you'll be doing if you ever question my assignments again."

Clark bit down on his words, but he could not let this pass. "Chief with all due respect, if Lois is in trouble then I have to try and help?"

Taylor aggressively stubbed out his cigarette, before lighting a second. He sighed and nodded.

"Kent this is how it is. Lois is missing, presumably hiding from the cops, we hope – as opposed to six feet under, or worse.

"She was good at her job Kent, real good, better than most of the guys here in a tight squeeze and a fox, and I mean she was twice as sly.

"And yet she's in the frame for the murder of a guy who I know was really working for Army investigating a Fifth Columnist cell in Metropolis – but the Police are calling our guy Captain Frank Martin a Nazi, worse the Cops are painting Lane as a traitor too – you know her and her dad don't see eye to eye, so that clearly means she hates the army and America too?

Taylor waved Clark down before he could indignantly protest.

"Look I know that's bull. But that's how it looks when her prints are on the iron that shot dead a man she's dated, beside a pile of incriminating anti American propaganda along with fifty thousand blood stained dollars in a cheap hotel room.

"Take it from me Kent you might be smart, but you're still green - you've not being with us more than five minutes; and when it comes to it this kind of work is strictly for the professionals – and I'm not including Lane, I mean this is espionage Kent not reporting.

"Besides don't you think the Cops and the Army will be watching the Star? Watching Lois's friends and colleagues? You especially given the by-lines you two have shared lately.

"Chief I just feel I should do something."

"I know son, but believe me Colonel Lane might not like his daughter much but he sure as hell loves her, and he'll move heaven and earth to get to the bottom of this.

"Believe me – this isn't a job for Clark Kent."

-'S'-

Lois tried to the phone again, she covered the mouthpiece with a handkerchief.

"Detective McBrodie Please, and no I won't give my name, and yes it's me again – mystery girl."

Lois waited. Finally Steven picked up.

"At last!" She sighed. "Where have you been all night?"

"Hello is that you Bob?" McBrodie almost shouted down the phone. "Lines bad."

"No you nut! It's Lois."

"Bob! Great to hear from you, yeah it's real busy with us down here."

Lois realised what was going on.

"You can't talk to me?"

"Yes that's right."

"Some one is there with you?"

"You bet Bob, all the time, you know how it is."

"Can't you get away?"

"I can't see us being able to catch up for a while buddy, it's murder down here at Central, you know how it gets. You'll have to grab a beer by yourself, I can't get away from the job.

"Look I think maybe you should come down here; we could maybe sort something out – save us both a lot of trouble, what do you think?"

"Thanks for nothing Steven." Lois said angrily. She slammed the phone down, and almost immediately felt guilty.

It stood to reason that McBrodie, given that their social and professional lives had crossed often in recent months, would be singled out for attention by his colleagues.

She put her head in her hands and sighed.

"Now what are you going to do?" She whispered to herself, finally she let go of her pent up emotions; loss of her friend Frank Martin, and the loneliness of being on run and entirely innocent.

Maybe McBrodie was right, maybe she should give herself up, Lois thought as she wiped at her tears with her handkerchief, either way she recognised she better make a decision sooner rather than later and before things got a whole lot worse.

At his desk in Metropolis Central Police Headquarters, McBrodie said his warm good byes to the fictitious Bob, whilst actually listening to static.

"Sorry about that." He said. "Where were we?"

"You were just about to tell me where I should start looking for Lois Lane Detective." Jeff Carlton asked.

"Now that is a good question, and to be honest I used to ask that myself a lot, and that was back when I thought Lois and I were stepping out together."

"You're not? Who is she seeing now?"

McBrodie frowned. "Well nobody, probably somebody, never seriously – she's not the committing type."

"Come on Detective – give me something, your Country expects you to co-operate. I shouldn't have to remind you that not only was Frank Martin a traitor but he was also clearly a double agent."

"Okay Carlton I know this is personal with you."

"No McBrodie, my interest is Professional, if it wasn't I wouldn't be on this case.

"Now tell me who should we be watching that we're not already?"

"Well if Lois is sweet on anyone - it's the guy that flies."

Carlton burst out laughing. "Come on Detective, you expect me to believe in a flying man?"

"Plenty of people saw and heard what happened at Pegasus field, besides I've seen him myself."

"You mean that Metro-radio stunt, they're clearly hand in hand with the Daily Star." Carlton sniffed dismissively. "It's just an attempt to reproduce the hysteria and publicity that actor managed... what was he called... Orson Wells wasn't it?.. Yes that was the guy that did that radio broadcast last year, got people believing in an alien invasion – War of the Worlds, they called it.

"After that debacle, I can't believe any intelligent people are actually buying into this Superman fantasy, at best it's just an actor – a stunt man probably in a circus suit"

"Like I said I've seen him."

"My point exactly Detective, and at the same time you expect me to believe you when you say you haven't seen or talked to Miss Lane?

"I think you are fast blowing any credibility you have.."

"I am co-operating with your investigation just like the Commissioner asked me to do."

"Good – then you won't mind me sticking around, just in case your girlfriend does contact you."

"Be my guest Agent Carlton – take a seat, we can waste time together, meanwhile I can assure you regardless of what you think you saw - the real killer is out there pursuing his anti American agenda."

"Ha! Detective McBrodie, I promise you that I am not wasting my time today, and you can also believe me when I say I do know who the killer is exactly."

-'S'-

Clark Kent arrived at Metropolis University Campus, set in the city within the University Park, the modern dedicated tertiary education facility was like a small town within Metropolis itself. Part of the original New City plan that saw Metropolis rise quickly from flat land beside the twin water ways, West River and Hobb's River.

He had agreed over the telephone to meet Professor Barnett in his office within the prestigious Department of Physics and Astronomy; and following the directions from the map-board to the large buildings many areas, lecture theatres, and labs, Clark hastily arrives at the Scientist's door.

Kent was agitated, he wanted to get this story covered as quickly as possible, so he could concentrate on finding Lois and clearing her name; because he didn't for one moment believe the girl was cold hearted killer.

"Come in Mr Kent." Barnett called out as Clark rapped on the door.

The Professor was an older man, grey haired and slight, every bit the long time servant of academia that Kent had imagined him to be.

The Professors office adjoined a laboratory and beyond that a lecture theatre.

Clark notes as he enters Barnett's presence that a strange tired feeling comes over him. The older man gestured to the reporter to sit down opposite him at his desk.

Clark gladly relaxes, his sombre perturbed mood deepens.

"You seem a little tired Mr Kent, a late night perhaps?

"I'm just returned from seeing my parents in Maryland."

"Yes your Editor told me his science guy was out of the office, were you a student here at Metropolis University?"

"No Sir, but I subscribe to a number of periodicals – I read your last article in Scientific American about the likelihood of further planetary bodies being discovered beyond Pluto, to account for the discrepancies in the orbits of Uranus and Neptune."

"Indeed Planet X." Bartlett nodded. "So Mr Kent – what do you know about asteroids?"

"That they are space rocks. Most orbit the Sun in a belt between Mars and Jupiter.

"That some times rogue asteroids become meteors, often called shooting stars, and some even survive to fall to Earth.

"And very rarely larger rocks from space can cause craters like those we see on the moon; the most famous being Canyon Diablo Crater, in the desert of northern Arizona of the United States."

The Professor seemed pleased enough. "Yes Mr Kent that is mostly correct.

"We have in the hills above Metropolis a particularly good observatory, which I have had the privilege of using for the last twenty years.

"And it was as a young man, in those early days that I was observing the night sky; seeking the predicted but as yet undiscovered planet we now call Pluto.

"I saw a bright flash – much by chance I admit, and this flash occurred in outer reaches of the solar system – just in the area of the night sky I happened to be studying.

"I observed this object moving inwards - towards the Sun, before after an hour or so it's light diminished and became lost to me.

"But I was able on the basis of these first observations predict it's trajectory.

"Subsequently I have from time to time, returned to look at that predicted path, hoping to perhaps see the object again – this was highly speculative, but you see Mr Kent, my superiors back in the twenties dismissed my account of this object as at best unverifiable, so this irked me, and perhaps if it had not been, for more than a little pride on my part, I would have forgotten about that unexplained light."

"So Professor I'm guessing the last time you looked you saw this strange object again?"

"Indeed I have, and as it draws closer to Earth, drawn to the Sun in particular, it has begun to develop an odd corona."

"Then it is a comet – if it has a tail?"

"The corona or the tail as you say, that one observes with a comet is not present as I would expect.

"In fact my observations now suggest this object is not only inexplicably accelerating as it approaches Earth, but is in fact not a single object at all, but mass of smaller objects grouped together."

Clark leant forward, thinking there must be a story in this somewhere.

"So is there any possibility of these meteors colliding with Earth, causing damage?"

"It is my opinion given the current course of the swarm, that these asteroids will pass close by earth, that at least on this occasion it will be a near miss."

"So there is a danger of a collision?"

"Yes, these objects appear to follow an orbit around the sun – much like Halley's Comet.

"I am reasonably confident that in seventy years time the swarm will return and impact Earth directly."

Clark swallowed, he felt cold and damp – as if he was sweating. Seventy years he thought. Hardly an immediate threat, unlike Hitler.

"I see, and this will be bad news in the twenty first century I take it?"

If the Professor recognised his implied criticism he let it pass.

"Do you know of the Tunguska Event Mr Kent?"

"No Sir, I have not heard of that, it sounds Russian though."

"Indeed it is. Not many people have heard of the Tunguska Event outside of the Soviet Union's academia. High in the frozen wastes of that isolated region of Russia back in 1908 something catastrophic occurred. Fortunately scholarly channels are often more open, and free, than political ones."

"I assume Professor that this catastrophe was a meteor or comet striking the Earth?"

"Yes. Suffice to say Mr Kent that based on my calculations, should a meteor or comet of size impact Earth – striking say a major population centre, such as Metropolis or London or Berlin, it would based on the damage observed in Siberia, devastate these cities. Like an impossibly large bomb; killing thousands upon thousands of people."

"That, Professor, is a story. However with the very immediate threat of the war in Europe spilling over to include America, I can't imagine a possible danger, however grave, that is still in distant future, being more than a side article, I'm sorry to say."

"I appreciate your frankness Mr Kent, but as I indicated earlier to you, this swarm of objects is not behaving as I would have predicted. Neither in appearance or velocity; and given such unpredictability, I cannot guarantee with certainty that on this occasion these asteroids will pass by the earth."

"You mean a massive impact event might happen this year?"

"It may happen in a matter of weeks Mr Kent."

Clark stood up, he felt a little strange still, but he put this down to his odd dream, and exhausting himself recharging the Spacecraft Matrix.

"Very well Professor, I see why you felt the public should know about this. I'll do my best to sell the story to my Editor. Here's my card. Don't hesitate to contact me at the Paper if you are able to confirm whether we are due a near miss, or direct hit."

Clark and Barnett shook hands, and the reporter bid goodbye and left. As soon as he got out into the fresh air he began to feel himself again.

Hurrying unseen into the cover of trees in the University Park Clark Kent vanished in blur of motion and the Man of Tomorrow took the sky in search of Lois Lane, this was after all a job for Superman.

Yet each location where he expected to find some sign of Lois he could only see the presence of Metropolis Police Department. Taylor was right, the Cops were watching all of them closely.

Perched high above their headquarters Superman picked out McBrodie, watching the Detective, he seemed to be agitated, and sullen, unlike the second man that was his shadow, a cooler customer; in a US Army uniform. The Man of Tomorrow quickly concluded that Lois's main contact in the Metro P.D had being neutralised.

Superman frowned, who would Lois turn to when all her usual friends were being shut down and shut out. If she had tried to contact them she had either failed or had been warned; it was obvious that the smart thing to do would be to turn to someone that no one would suspect.

Better still some one whom Lois had a poor public relationship with, some one who the cops would rule out because they'd think them the least likely person for Star's girl reporter to turn to.

Lois for her part dried her face, after washing the salt of her tears away. She looked younger without her war paint, more vulnerable.

There was a knock on the door; a double rap a tap tap.

"Hi Deedee, thanks for your help." Lois said as she let the actress into her own apartment. De Winters was dressed down, in an dowdy skirt and coat, ever the player upon a stage.

De Winters put the bag of groceries down on the table. "It's okay Lois, after what happened up at that Mansion in the Metropolis Hills, well let's say this is the least I can do."

"I'm glad we kept so much of what went on out of the papers."

"Sure otherwise people might have learned you don't hate me any more."

"Don't you mean – you hate me."

The two women laughed.

"Seriously though Lois, after letting you down..."

"Shut up. After seeing what the Ultra Humanite was capable of, you don't have anything to apologise for.

"Have the cops been around to talk to you yet?"

"Sure they did eventually, came around to the theatre late this morning, but like you said I clearly wasn't high on there list.

"I told the nice officers that while we sure knew each other, it wasn't on friendly terms; and that I'd only seen you to talk to through Clark Kent and then only briefly during the time I was in hiding."

"They buy that story?"

Deedee laughed. "Darrrrling." She purred. "I'm an actress, they think we positively despise each other."

De Winters began rustling around in the grocery bag.

"Coffee?"

Lois put the groceries away as Deedee made the Coffee. She observed "This is like old times already, us together, hiding out, except it's you and not me - and this time we've some fresh groceries."

Deedee laughed. "Awww, that reminds me how Clark must have arrived back to an empty apartment just to find a note saying we'd gone out driving."

Lois laughed. She asked. "How was your date with Clark?"

"Date?"

"Sure he took you to lunch didn't he?"

"You mean the interview?"

"Come on Deedee, we both know you went out to a cosy diner where you told him next to nothing – I read his draft piece before it went to Taylor."

"Well actually I told Clark a lot. He was very understanding – especially about helping Superman out, that's why he wrote the story he did."

"Sure – I can just see him being really understanding."

"Lois - Clark is the sweetest most genuinely nice guy I've ever met. Maybe it's because I spend my time around actors who are all self obsessed, but Clark is like a breath of fresh air, I don't know why you are so hard on him."

"He's infuriating, and pretty sly when it comes to getting a story, and he's well a hate to say it – cowardly."

"Clark? No. He's shy maybe, and doesn't like to get physical - not like that Curly guy for instance, the one that punched him, but he's no coward Lois – he saved my life remember."

"Maybe you've seen a different side of him."

"Maybe you're just been hard on him."

"Well?"

"What?"

"Are you going to see Clark again."

"Lois – get away. It wasn't a date, so I like the guy; I think he's a good friend to have, but I'm not stupid, it's obvious that he's not interested in me."

"Come on Deedee, I find that hard to believe. Why wouldn't he be, unless you don't mean?"

"Oh Lois – you idiot, not that at all – look he's clearly got it bad for you."

"What?"

"You heard me, it's you Clark has a thing for you – poor guy, you don't even know he exists, and he's wrapped up in you."

Lois frowned.

"Ah. Well talking of men. I talked to McBrodie earlier."

"What. Finally. Why didn't you say."

"Because I feel an idiot. I was sure he'd be able to sort this mess out."

"But he won't?"

"Won't. Can't. I don't know. He couldn't talk to me – but he let me know that he thinks I should hand myself in."

"That's what I said at the outset." Deedee replied.

"Okay you did, I was thinking maybe I should do that. Hiding up here isn't going to help me at all, it only makes it appear I'm guilty."

"I could help you – change your appearance, it amazing what a pair of glasses can do, alter the voice, a change of posture, some padding here and there, not to mention make up."

"Thanks Dolores – but being someone else is your job, not mine."

"So you are going to do it?"

"I don't think I've got a choice."

Superman listened to their conversation from outside De Winters apartment. On balance he preferred the idea of Lois being in the care of Metro P.D. It was after all the right thing to do; and it made it easier for him to chase down the real killer knowing Lois was safe in custody, he was certain McBrodie would look after her. He was after all a good cop.

But before he could act he needed to ask Lois specific questions.

"Could you open the window please." He asked, his voice carrying from outside.

"Superman." Lois gasped.

The Man of Steel stepped inside. "Good evening ladies.

"I'm glad you are alive and well Lois, although this is a mess you're in. Tell me what happened."

Lois told him how the double agent Carlton had in fact gunned his partner down.

"That is interesting, it means that this conspiracy runs deep. " Superman stated. "I saw your boyfriend McBrodie with an Army guy in tow."

"McBrodie isn't my boyfriend; but that would explain why he wasn't able to talk to me properly, less alone help."

"So are you going to turn yourself in?" Deedee asked.

Lois looked at Superman, he was frowning. "This double agent you are sure his name was Carlton?" He asked.

"Yes. Jeff Carlton. Frank definitely said that was his name, Why?"

"Because I was over at Metropolis Central earlier, and this Army Agent shadowing McBrodie goes by the name of Jeffrey Carlton."

"You stopped to ask?"

"As I told you before Miss Lane I can see through mostly everything, and hear mostly everything."

Deedee whistled. "Well Lois, I'm sorry I ever doubted your instinct to run; looks like Detective McBrodie couldn't have taken good care of you! No doubt, that's why this Carlton mongrel is hanging around, hoping he can get to you again."

"That's got to be the case." Superman agreed. "Tell me Lois, any thoughts as to why Carlton didn't just shoot you too?"

"I've been thinking about that, the only reason to keep me alive would be because I knew something."

"Being?"

"I saw someone with Martin and Carlton who looked like Reynolds twin brother, in fact he even went by Dr Reynolds. I mentioned him and his connection to the Ultra Humanite, thing is it strikes me now that is was just after I mention 'Ultra', that Carlton flipped out and murdered Frank.

"He then ignores me to go after this." Lois held up the note book. "Dr Reynolds had given this to Frank, and as Carlton rifled his pockets for it, I got the jump on him and planted a good kick in his face.

"Good for you!" Dolores said.

"Look at the lists." Lois continued. "They're sorted by company's – key industry names too, each with a list of people belonging it; I'm guessing these are employees who are fifth columnists or at least sympathisers.

"Most of the names don't mean a thing to me, but this little group of the usual suspects stood out to me." Lois read the names out. "Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley. Four of the biggest Racketeers in town, the only name missing from that list is Matson, and he's in jail."

"That is interesting. We're getting closer to something far reaching and centred in Metropolis." Superman noted. "Okay this is how it's going to work. Deedee is going to dress you down so you don't look like you, and then the both of you are going to check out the names on that list that are associated with the important industries, like Automotive, and Aeronautical, starting with Campbell Scott. I'd say stay here and leave it up to me, but I'm getting to know you well enough to realise that would be pointless, so I might as well know where you are."

"What are you going to do?" Lois asked.

"I thought that would be obvious. I'm going to talk to Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley, that is after I've had a conversation with Lieutenant Carlton."

"Fine." Lois said. "I'll get my coat."

"Not before I've got you a wig and a pair of glasses." Deedee stated.

"Sounds like a plan." Superman chuckled. "Lois give me about twenty minutes, then call the Star, you can tell them that Carlton is the real Killer, I should have this wrapped up by then." Superman said as he exited from the window and into the sky, and blur of red and blue he was gone.

-'S'-

Colonel Samuel Lane wasn't used to dressing in civvies, but desperate times called for desperate measures, the bar was smoke filled and dark, below street level it was reassuringly low profile, low maintenance, and full of low life rent a thugs.

Taylor's trademark cigarette was a like a beacon flashing in the darkness.

"Nice place Stiches."

"Thought you'd like it." Taylor pushed a beer in the Colonels direction. "Here you are Bowler."

"Thanks. Any word about my little girl."

"Not yet. No news is good news. She's probably holed up somewhere trying to work out what to do next."

"I hope you are right Stitches."

"That's what my sources tell me, she ran out of the Hotel down the fire escape before the Cops arrived. What I don't like about that story is that your guy Jeff Carlton reckons she got the jump on him."

"Not my guy, not really. Besides she could have – reason is why would she?"

"What do you know about Carlton?"

"Only knew Frank Martin, this Carlton fella wasn't one of mine; he was from off base and out of state, a shoe in." Lane drank his beer.

Taylor nodded. "So way I see it is if she was so in control, like Carlton reckons - why leave the iron, with her prints all over it? I just smell a rat that's all."

"Definitely." The Colonel spat. " He's selling this shooting to Metro P.D as a crime of passion, like he knew she was involved with Frank – which is garbage, because there wasn't anything between them even when they did date."

"You sure about that?"

"Believe me – I'd know. Why do you think she hates me so much?"

"Okay what do you have?"

"All I know is that Frank was due to have received a shipment of leaflets, pamphlets - propaganda material, he was meant to get a list of contacts from a 'John Doe', these men on the list would in turn distribute this material at their places of work. They were all meant to be men in key industries.

"The material was coming into the docks, but last time I talked to Frank, he didn't know which pier, or where it was going to go, except that it would be warehoused, but unfortunately that doesn't narrow it down much."

"This might be a long shot, but you know the organisation that we linked to the incident at Pegasus Field."

"You mean the group that my girl reckons blew up that Mansion up in the Metropolis hills?"

"The same."

"Well one of my Hounds – Kent, he traced one of their main guys, an enforcer called Reynolds to a warehouse at the docks, where they apparently did business."

"Yeah but surely the Cops will have been all over that place already if it was linked to the drive by shooting?"

"Had no good cause; so no warrant. The lease apparently didn't connect to anyone even like Reynolds – a man who appears not to officially exist.

"As far as the Cops know someone, they think probably Matson hired shooters to waste an actress with dirt on him, and a reporter she was talking too; and as for the Mansion well that was just a big pile of rubble. So in short there was nothing to tie this mysterious Reynolds to Matson, or to anything crooked, they didn't even find his fancy foreign town car."

"Then we need to check out that location your reporter found; see if that's the place Martin was told about, it could be that these two organisations are connected, maybe they are even one and the same."

Taylor finished his drink. "My thoughts exactly."

-'S'-

Superman watched Metropolis Central Police Headquarters. McBrodie was at his desk in the open plan second floor office area set aside for the precinct's Detectives, and as before Carlton was with him. In a blur of motion Superman dashed through the downstairs lobby, his passage causing a blast of wind that whipped up loose papers and toppled officers close to his path.

"What was that? A indoors tornado?" the Desk Sergeant bellowed. His arms prone across the front desk in an attempt to hold down his paper work, but Superman was already upstairs.

Carlton span around, he felt a tap tap on his shoulder.

"Afternoon Lieutenant." Superman said. "I'm that actor in a circus costume. Would you like to come play stunt man with me?"

"Superman – what are you doing here?" McBrodie demanded. Around him he could sense the tension among his colleagues, glancing around he saw cops drawing their guns.

"Tell your friends that the only damage they are going to do with those is to themselves and city property."

Superman grabbed hold Carlton.

"Let that man go!" A commanding voice shouted.

"What do you think Carlton?" Superman asked. "Should I?"

"I think you should back down mister before you invite yourself even more trouble." Carlton snapped.

Superman hoisted the traitor up at arms length, single handedly above his head. "Tell him Detective." He said.

"It's like I said Lieutenant, Superman is for real, and he's bullet proof. If he wants to talk to you there isn't a man in this building that can stop him." McBrodie waved at the other cops. "That goes for you guys too, you're more likely to shoot me than do him any harm."

"You want us to rush him Mac?" A officer asked. McBrodie shook his head. "I'm interested in what the Governor called a superhuman force of justice wants to know."

Superman slowly rose from the ground suspending the stunned man higher in the air. "So tell me Carlton what's your connection to the Ultra Humanite and why did you frame Lois Lane for the murder of Frank Martin?"

"I don't know what your talking about."

Superman tossed the man up like a rag doll. Then span him at speed into whirling circular blur, before seconds later letting him down to his feet. Carlton unsteady and dizzy he stumbled and collapsed overcome by nausea, coughing he almost wretched, shaking he drew his gun.

"Now Carlton, that's not going to work." Superman chided. His eyes flashed red, and the gun super heated.

"Ahh!" Carlton cried out dropping the hot iron. Wide eyed he stared at the Man of Steel. "Your one of them!" He spat.

"No. I'm Superman. And you shot and killed Frank Martin didn't you?"

Superman picked up Carlton's gun and crumpled it like paper in his hand. "Now you've seen me playing Mr Nice guy, maybe you'd like to try what my heavy handed interrogation techniques feel like?"

"Yes, damn it, I'll tell you everything – but I want a deal." Carlton spluttered as Superman handed him the twisted revolver.

"Okay how about this one - you talk and I let you walk out of here with your spine intact and your legs still working."

"Please McBrodie, he's going to kill me."

"I think he's not going to; that's what he said – face it you're just not going to be that lucky bub."

"Stop him?"

"Me and which army?" Mac snapped back.

Carlton whimpered. "Yes I killed Martin."

"I know you did." Superman replied. "Now so does Metro P.D.

"So how about you help yourself some more, and tell us; Dectective McBrodie, and this fine department, all that you know."

"I'm sure your cooperation will go down as a matter of record." Mac said. "That's better than nothing come your court martial."

Carlton stared at the crumpled iron in his hands, he gulped before babbling. "The Ultra Humanite promised to deliver Campbell Scott Plane; but there were problems."

"You bet." Superman said.

"I was ordered by the Air Corps to Pegasus Field, there I teamed me up with Martin.

"That's when Dr Reynolds contacted us, he said he could give us the next best thing."

"Which was?"

"A young man. The fella that designed the Fire Bird. A scientist by the name of Alexander Luthor."

"Who are you working for? Which foreign power? How far up does this go?" McBrodie demanded.

"I don't know who hired us, the usual suspects I suppose. The Consortium deals in secrets, designs, advanced science, whoever wants to pay gets it."

"The Consortium?" The policeman leant closer. "What is that – Who is that?"

"I don't know. We get paid well, and told what we need to know, anything else isn't necessary."

"Come one you can do better than that – you better do better than that if you want to avoid a firing squad!" Mac growled.

"OK. OK. I can give you my contact in New York, the guy that recruited me, and a few other names, but that's it – that's all I know. I swear it... seriously you guys, I don't know any more, look it was just the money, I needed the money I had debts, it was about the money..." Carlton babbled as MacBrodie slapped cuffs on the broken spy.

Superman folded his arms unimpressed by the traitors weasel words. "Detective as it happens I can guess at some of the Consortium, at least who they are in Metropolis: Matson, Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley; and since the Butcher is behind bars, it's just the last four."

Mac looked up at the Man of Steel. "That explains a lot Superman. Those guys were at each other's throats when I started in this job; but the last couple of years I've heard whispers, talk that was getting louder, that they'd begun cooperating more than fighting."

Superman walked over to a window, and effortlessly slid it open. "You've got enough now to call off the hunt for Lois?"

"Yes – we have, but Superman this is complicated, Carlton, these crime bosses, this Consortium conspiracy, espionage, the Feds are going to be all over this. They'll want to talk to you; and I have to say you can't go I need a statement – an interview..."

"Of course you must, but I've got an appointment with Metropolis's Consortium. I'll be in touch Mac."

"Just warning you pal..."

"Thanks Detective." Superman nodded his goodbye, before ignoring the futile cries of McBrodie's less well informed and over enthusiastic colleagues, calling out to him to halt and give himself up; instead, the Man of Tomorrow tore into clouds above Metropolis once more.

-'S'-

Colonel Sam Lane felt comfortable in quasi uniform he and Taylor had adopted, khaki but devoid of patches or insignia; both were armed, a long trench coat helped conceal the hardware they were packing. The warehouse Kent had identified in his story lay ahead, the exterior appearance was one of neglect and unassuming unimportance, just one a series of prefabricated units falling into disrepair during the last decades harsh economic climate.

Entry was easy enough a side door was chained shut and padlocked, but every chain is only as strong as it's weakest link, and bolt cutters made easy work of any of them, the dull metal clink was lost in the night. Lane and Taylor eased there way inside, darkness and silence indicated the unit was unoccupied, switching on their flashlights the two men began to make there way though the large open building, different areas were evident, most defined by whatever had been left their, be it automobiles, or freight boxes stacked in piles. Searching these they approached the pile nearest the main door, the wooden crates seemed newer, and were less dusty and scarred from use.

Taylor used his crowbar and worked open the nearest box. A huge wooden container, he shone his light inside, and pushed away the packaging materials to reveal a huge metal limb.

"What in the world." He hissed.

Lane's light settled on a piece of paper stapled to the box. "Adamantine – that's all it says. Any idea Stitches, you're the word smith?"

"Huh, weird." Taylor whispered. "Adamant means any really hard substance - like diamonds or a metal like steel. As for adamantine... as I remember the Classical writers called anything made of a very hard material adamantine.

"Either way it's not what we are looking for." Taylor eased the wooden lid back into place.

Moving on they chose a second smaller box, but this contained machine parts. After another similar discovery the pair came to a stack of clearly new and identical crates. The Star's Editor prised open the first of these; and this time they were luckier. Packed inside were stacks of printed material; and in the light of their electric torches they could read from the inflammatory titles that this was the propaganda they had been looking for.

"That seals it." Lane said quietly.

"Sure does, this is the place, and this ties the organisation Frank Martin had infiltrated to this mysterious Ultra Humanite and what happened up at Pegasus Field." Taylor agreed in hoarse whisper.

Voices interrupted them. Figures emerged bathed in light from the second floor office unit over at the other end of the warehouse, the two old comrades killed their flashlights.

"Damn it I thought the place was empty!" Lane hissed through his teeth, dropping beside Taylor behind the freight.

"It sure looked like it, must be some hidden room up there. They're had been guys here all along."

Both men crouched out of sight their pistols drawn.

Across the floor and up a level one, of the men said clearly. "Hey you guy's I thought I saw a light coming from over there. Did you fella's see that?"

"I didn't." Someone answered, another voice asked. "Are you sure you saw something Hairy?"

"Positive, and I don't like it. Cover me, I'm going down there."

The main bulbs above them flickered on and bathed the warehouse in a poor light that cast dozens of long shadows. The big mechanic was in street clothes and armed with automatic, he made steady progress towards where the two friends were crouching hidden from sight.

"Hey!" Harry barked. "One of the crates has been prised open!" Then. "And this one too!"

The hidden men didn't need to look up to know more guns were now pointing in their general direction.

"Look – whoever you are, we know you are here; you've chose the wrong joint to turn over. We are armed, and more than happy to pop you so come on out slowly." Harry called out.

Lane look at Taylor, who nodded.

"This is Colonel Lane US Air Corps. You have been found in possession of material likely to incite civil disobedience and rebellion. Lay down your weapons and surrender."

Harry trained his pistol on the sound of the man's voice; his colleagues with the advantage of being on the stairs to the office unit, also followed suit.

"You are surrounded by armed agents of the United States Army." Taylor bellowed. " Give it up boys, it's only going to get a lot harder."

Harry answered by letting rip with his gun, hot lead tore into the wooden transport crates, and paper went flying – fluttering around Taylor and Lane's position. The Colonel returned fire as the Tommy guns opened up from across the warehouse, the signature rat a tat tat a spewing bullets into the packing boxes, sending wooden splinters everywhere.

Harry collapsed felled by Lane's accuracy. Taylor's gun roared it's reply at the men on the stairs, but still a hail of bullets rained in their direction.

"We're pinned down." Taylor spat.

"Time for an equaliser." Lane replied. "Cover me Stitches."

Taylor fired, Lane rolled throwing a grenade with trained accuracy in the direction of the garage area. For a moment the guns went silent as the thugs realised that something unexpected had come their way, then an explosion tore through the parked trucks and cars, igniting the gas in their tanks causing secondary explosions.

Using the chaos to cover their retreat, Taylor and Lane in tandem ran for an exit, taking the side door they had used to come in.

From explosions came fire, which quickly found plenty of flammable material to feed it's growing ferocity.

Once outside gunfire followed the two men's retreat, and though Taylor caught another of the thugs, and Lane took a second one down; the Fifth Columnists forced them back. The thugs emerged from the blazing building; shooting wildly as the did. The two old soldiers retreated under the barrage of automatic fire, and they found themselves pinned between the river and warehouse.

"How many was there?" Taylor gasped.

"Too many, dozen, maybe more, less now, we've almost made it a fair fight." Lane replied, letting off some shots from behind the metal rail container that the two men were using as cover. Across from them the warehouse was fully on fire, with occasional secondary explosions letting rip.

"Well I reckon." Taylor added between shots. "That we're making enough light and noise, the cops should be on the way."

Lane nodded. "Let's hope so Stitches."

Superman paused in his search for the four kingpins of Metropolis underworld, the sound, the smell, and bright light of fire was like an terrible alarm, calling to him from the docklands of Metropolis's River Port. Closing in on the unnatural brightness, a vivid beacon burning in the night scape, his enhanced senses identified the unmistakable sounds of a gunfight. Superman sped towards the conflict and disaster, recognising the location instantly.

The Man of Tomorrow had of course revisited Reynolds Offices and Warehouse since the defeating the Ultra Humanite, and had seen nothing markedly different to his first visit, nothing that had given him pause for thought; besides the machine parts and other legitimate trade goods the building had appeared to have been abandoned. Recent events had meant he had pushed this location to the back of his to do list. Now he realised that this might have been a mistake.

Moments later his eyes settled on the figures engaged in an uneven fire fight, punctuated by explosions from the burning warehouse. The building was a ball of flame and unsalvageable.

The fire fight involved faces he knew, Clark Kent's boss from the Star, and Lois Lane's commanding Father. He didn't know why they were here, but now the Man of Steel had arrived on scene the balance of power had changed decidedly in favour of truth and justice.

Streaking down he flashed past the thugs snatching their guns from their grip breaking them into scrap metal in his bare hands. Lane and Taylor realising to their surprise that the shooting was suddenly over emerged from their position, their guns aimed squarely at the disarmed Fifth Columnists. Superman persuaded the thugs not to run, hauling them back together with a blur of movement and definitive strength.

"Hands up boys, I guarantee the options are simple: You can give in, or you can get shot, or I can spank you; and believe me the getting shot option is actually preferable to my spanking, but if I were you I'd go with the giving up, it's the least messy for all concerned."

"Superman. Thanks for the assistance." Taylor said as the Chief and the Colonel walked across.

"Interesting to see you at work." Lane commented. "You know Stitches I think I should have me sit down talk with this young man, and soon."

A final tremendous explosion ripped through docks as Reynolds's warehouse collapsed, the roof tumbled in, followed moments later by the walls crashing down in the flames.

Superman secured the thugs with a heavy rope, lashing them together in a huge bundle, before joining the Colonel and Taylor.

"If you can watch these men, I have something that I must attend to." He stated.

However behind him in the flames of the collapsed building something stirred. Superman turned immediately perturbed, his 'x-ray' vision piercing the heat and smoke. The shape was familiar to him, from memory he matched the figure to what he had seen and dismissed in the chaos as an unusual statue packaged in a crate.

The figure crashed inhibited through the ferocity of the burning pyre.

"What in the devil is it?" Lane asked.

"One of the Ultra Humanite's creations. It cannot be anything else." Superman answered. "It's nothing like I've seen before however, this is something new."

The automaton was a hollow metal body of a material Superman didn't recognise, and it possessed a single round orifice in it's head, neither really an eye or a mouth, but something in between, set in the centre of his rounded fat head that rested directly onto broad shoulders. A pit of fire that was visible to his eyes through this opening, and yet invisible to his 'x-ray' vision which continue to only reveal a hollow interior bereft of any mechanism.

The infernal machine emerged unscathed from the flames. It's movement was fluid, mercurial. It's metal arms and legs more akin to flesh than the hinged steel limbs of man made machines. Monsters of engineering like the dock cranes that towered above them, these constructs were crude by comparison, pinned together by nuts and bolts, worked by chains and pulleys – this metal man was not like the brutal imaginings of fiction, like a machine a man might forge and assemble, this was something else entirely.

The Demon strode onto the dockside, it single fiery maw rotating. Its round flattened head moved like the turret of tank spinning three hundred degrees, until the burning cyclops eye, the dragons mouth, returned to face out to the river, then the automaton unleashed a single spurt of unnatural fire in the direction of an iron ship moored alongside the harbour wall.

Superman, Taylor and Lane watched in amazement as the metal hull buckled and blackened, twisting under the onslaught from the Demons viscous weapon, until the main body of ship began to burn and it's interior was rocked by internal explosions.

Superman acted, he could do nothing else – the hulking tank like man thing was clearly bent on wanton destruction. The Man of Steel bore down on the demon robot with speed and power, determined to prevent loss of life and further needless destruction of property. Ducking under the river of magma like fire erupting from the gaping maw of the monster, he pummelled the body of the machine just as he had done with stone like Golem soldiers of the Ultra Humanite's House Guard.

Gritting his teeth in desperate intensity, Superman's hammer blows drove the robot slowly backwards, but the Adamantine monster was far tougher than the stone Golem of the Mansion, his pounding reverberated like thunder but for all his massive strength the carcass of the Adamantine resisted him. The torso deforming, becoming blemished by his fists, pockmarked by the rain of blows, but unbroken, and unbowed, the demon robot responded in kind.

The Adamantine smashed a fist downwards, interrupting it's unprovoked attack on the merchant ship, to concentrate on Superman. The Man of Steel avoided the swipe, but the Adamantine's second fist contacted hard; a pile driving blow smashing into the Man of Steel as he ducked away from the first. Superman was propelled backwards, momentarily stunned he smashed into the steel upright support of a dock crane, twisting it and causing the tall structure to shake violently before leaning precariously, broken and dangerous.

Superman shook his head and spat blood. He bit down once more and drove at speed into the Adamantine like a hardened steel torpedo, driving the demon robot back into the flaming remains of the warehouse, there in hell Superman punched the Adamantine time and time again, but it's unknown structure resisted him. Fire erupted around him as the demon robot unleashed it's fearsome weapon, driving Superman back as it's single cannon spat flame and the monster tried to consume the Man of Steel.

Gasping Superman could feel pain as the heat engulfed him, but he drove into the fire, and like hot lava it splashed back at the volcano from whence it came. Returning to hell Superman could feel the metal body deform further under the repeated hammering of his fists. He realised why this had to be, Superman unleashed his energies into a combined attack, heat vision and fists together.

The Adamantine grabbed him, crushing him in its blunt three fingered hands, but Superman just dug harder. It's maw spat flame, but the same flames now washed around them both as they rebounded from Superman's body. Heat energy poured from the Man of Steel. Unnatural Fire from within the Man of Adamantine. Superman concentrated hot light and pounded. Beneath him the Adamantine body began to glow red; and the metal began to soften.

"You might have been forged in the bowls of Hell, but this is my forge now!" The Man of Steel bellowed.

Red hot metal became white hot as Superman's heat vision concentrated on the Adamantine's chest.

Then came the explosion of uncontrolled unnatural fire as Man of Steels hammering punched a hole through the demon robot's armour into the hollow inside, into the magical fire's container.

The Adamantine tried to push Superman away, any thought of crushing him forgotten, but the Man of Steel hung on ripping and tearing at the hot metal. The blast of fire engulfed him and burst forth unchecked from the new orifice Superman had torn in the carcass of the beast. This flame tore out across the harbour. The line of fire tore through the already buckled supports of the twisted dock crane sending it tumbling down into the burning remnants of the warehouse.

Superman realising the huge steel crane was falling, realising the danger this demon robots unnatural fire posed to the fabric of Metropolis, seeing the devastating plume of magna was both uncontrollable and incredibly destructive, he recognised the Adamantine was like an uncapped force of volcanism..

Already pushed to his limits the Man of Tomorrow could not relent, and pushing again, pushing upwards he dragged the demon robot skyward, it's ruptured carcass spilling flame like a fountain of fire arching outwards across the river, boiling the water where the unnatural magma kissed the surface. Wrenching the monster around he aimed the uncontrolled plume of flame sky wards.

Superman continued to race upwards higher into the cold thinning air, the fire pushed back by the rushing atmosphere into a great flaming ball, he and the Adamantine a burning sun in the night sky, then seeing angrily that fire burned unabated, even as the air grew thin and sky black, Superman arched his flight path downwards. Twisting so he and the Adamantine arched towards the dark cold Atlantic ocean.

Hitting the water at immense speed Superman drove the Adamantine head first into the Atlantic, smashing into the sea at this accelerated rate was like hitting concrete, Superman was stunned, shaken he struggled to stay conscious the temperature change was simultaneously overwhelming.

The monster thrashed but it's huge weight dragged it down like an anchor, Superman forced it deeper still, the water boiled around them, and soon the only light he could see was the unnatural furnace the burned within the hollow carcass of the Adamantine.

Deeper and deeper they plunged and as the pressure began to bear down upon him squeezing him tighter than the even monsters massive grip ever could, Superman saw the magical furnace begin to falter, its flames flickering as the sea's cold heart won the war of the elements.

Down the two titans plunged, the salt water the third, battling with them both. Superman finally glimpsed the oceans floor.

He saw the Adamantine sink into the silty ooze, its internal furnace all but extinguished, exhausted from his labours the Man of Steel smiled as he saw the automatons inner light at last flicker and die. Then and only then, when his victory was complete, did he too succumb to the cold all encompassing blackness and unconsciousness.