The One that Got Away
Paris – the Latin Quarter
He stood on the corner and like in some cheap paperback novel lit a cigarette. He certainly wasn't a smoker. He hated it actually, but desperately needed something to do with his hands. He was frightened and there was no reason not to admit it, if only to himself. He might never wear a symbol on his chest again, but now he had a bull's-eye painted on his back. They were probably coming. It was really just a matter of time.
As he inhaled the smoke and let it burn it's way down his throat and into his lungs he reflected on his choice. It was stupid and dangerous, but he felt in his heart it was the right thing to do. Sometimes a man isn't just defined by what he says, but what he does. In the end belief in something is only as strong as how much you're willing to risk. It's always easier to start wars than to fight them.
Clark had been running from everything and everyone. Fear of so many things seemed to haunt him. Now that had to stop. He'd come to realize the opposite of love wasn't hate, it was fear. Fear immobilizes you, cuts you off from taking chances and isolates you. Fear slowly wraps you in a cocoon until nothing gets in. You become like a walking statue moving through life without joy or sorrow, without pain or heartache or love. It was an existence worse than death, for at least in death it all stopped. He couldn't live another day like that. Tonight it would stop one way or another.
As with so many things it felt as if a sacrifice had to be made. He couldn't ask someone else to make it for him. A choice had to be made and a risk had to be taken. If he was ever going to shed his cocoon of fear he was going to have to do this himself. He couldn't ask someone else to fight his battles anymore. If time was needed, he would be the one to provide it. He told himself this wasn't about being a hero and he believed it wasn't. This was a choice of what type of man he was going to be. It was as simple as wanting to look in the mirror in the morning and not being ashamed of what he saw.
If there had been another way, Clark would have gladly taken it. He had no desire to put himself in harm's way, but what was the alternative? Julian and Suzette, an old man and a young woman? Tresser? The man who could prove Clark's innocence? He wouldn't sacrifice someone else like that, so Clark became the logical choice. A lot had changed, but a man's name still meant something in Clark's world. Whether it was Kal or Clark, as long as it was attached to Kent he owed it to himself and those that raised him to see it cleared.
He flicked the cigarette away and glanced at his watch. It was time to get moving. He glanced up and down the wide avenue alert for any possible threat. If he trusted Julian on anything it was to point the guns away from Julian. Hopefully by now, Tresser was meeting with Bruce and the process of clearing his name would start. Clark smiled to himself. He could just picture Diana in his mind. He knew she would hate this. She would hopefully understand, but she would still hate it. For all the calm, controlled poise she presented to the world, he knew Diana was a woman of deep passions. He'd certainly seen more of those from both ends of the spectrum then most. He was also absolutely sure if he saw her again, she would slap him, hard. Now he just had to make sure she got that chance. He started walking.
Paris - The Jardin du Carrousel
Diana hung in the air a thousand feet up. Below her Bruce was meeting with Tom and with her exceptional hearing she could make out every word. Her mind was elsewhere. She was angry with men in general, but one in particular, Kal. She tried calling him again, but still there was no answer. Why did men have to be so pig headed and stupid? Why did the one she fell in love with have to be the most infuriating of all? She just wanted to get her hands on him and slap some sense into him.
Diana prayed to her Gods that she would get the chance. She looked out over the city wondering where he was and what danger he was facing. A strange, unfamiliar fear seemed to possess her. A feeling of helplessness that sent a chill through her bones unlike any winter storm she'd ever encountered was almost overwhelming. Let him be all right, she whispered, let him be all right.
Intellectually she understood why she thought he was doing what he was doing. She could think of a hundred reasons why it was the right thing, yet all those reasons paled in comparison to her desire for him to be safe. The thought of losing him now was unimaginable. The world might see her as this demi-Goddess descended among them, but at her core, Diana was a woman. At the moment she was a woman in love. She would do anything and everything in her power to make sure the man that had captured her heart like no other was safe. She just wanted to see him again.
A comment from below caught her attention and she began to sink towards the ground. Tom was talking about Clark. Diana felt her anger flare. She landed silently behind some trees. She could hear Bruce and Tom arguing.
"I hope he dies."
The words came from Tom and the bitterness was so plain. It was too much for Diana to stomach. She stepped out and walked towards them.
"How can you say that? He never did anything to you, Tom. What happened to you?" She asked. Nemesis turned and looked at her. He was surprised, but the pain was clear on his face.
"Wonder Woman."
The words nearly stuck in his throat. She was as beautiful as ever and this only reminded him of what he'd lost. No, not lost, Tom thought, stolen. Kent had stolen her from him.
"I'm surprised you can ask me that, Diana." Tom replied. "We were happy before he came back into the picture, remember? He ruined that."
"No, Tom, we weren't happy,' Diana stated. "I wasn't happy. I just didn't know it or want to admit it then."
"That's a lie!" He shouted. She was standing five feet away from him, just staring into his eyes.
"No, the lie was pretending things were okay with us,' she explained. "I'd been unhappy for a long time. I know now that what we had wasn't real. I'm sorry I let it get as far as it did, Tom. For that I apologize."
"How can you say that, Diana?" He protested. "I love you! I worshipped you!"
Diana looked at him for a moment and then just sadly shook her head.
"You never saw me, Tom, never really."
"How can you say that?" He asked. "I suppose he does, right?"
"Yes, he does,' she quietly replied.
"Cause he's a hero.' Tom snidely remarked.
"No, it has nothing to do with it." Diana stepped closer, holding Tom's gaze. Before he even realized it she slipped her lasso gently around his wrist.
"Who am I, Tom?"
"You're Wonder Woman."
The words were out of his mouth before he even realized it. He glanced down as she took the lasso off. He looked at her in confusion, not understanding what had just happened.
"In this uniform or out of it, you always saw me as Wonder Woman, Tom,' Diana explained. "He always sees me as Diana."
"But I loved you,' Tom weakly said.
"You loved the idea of me, Tom, not me, never me,' Diana replied. The edge of sadness was plain in her voice. "I guess I let myself believe that you were different from the others, that you saw the real me, but now I know I was just fooling myself. I'd been disappointed before, so I thought I could settle for less. I can't, Tom, I shouldn't have to. What you didn't see is I'm just like everyone else. I want the same things they do, someone to love me for me. I finally found that person."
Tom shook his head no to all her words, not accepting them, not listening to what she was saying to him.
"You tell yourself whatever it takes, Diana,' he spat out. "He's not special, he never was. You talk about me not seeing you, but do you really see him? He's not Superman, Diana. You have this schoolgirl crush on who he used to be or what you thought he was, that's all. When they killed him tonight, you'll find out it was all a lie. He's just like everyone else."
Diana's hand flew, smacking Tom across the face and knocking him to the ground. She took a step towards him, her anger threatening to boil over. Bruce spoke up for the first time.
"Diana!"
She glanced at Bruce and stopped. The fire in her eyes was plain, but he held her gaze. Batman glanced towards the city and then looked at Diana again.
"He's still out there."
Diana slowly nodded in understanding. Tom held his cheek as he looked up at her. She turned her attention back to him.
"You keep saying you love me, but you wish someone I love to die,' Diana hissed at him. "You know nothing about love and taint the word by letting it come out of your mouth."
Before she was tempted to do more, Diana lifted off and didn't look back. Tom watched her disappear and then slowly got to his feet. He looked at Batman.
"I guess it's your turn, huh?" Tom said. "Go ahead, lay into me too."
"No, I don't have to. You've been a big enough asshole already tonight,' Bruce replied. 'You don't even realize what you lost. But then you don't even realize what you might have had. Let's go, you've got debt to pay, Nemesis."
"Who? To Kent?" Tom snapped.
"No, to me,' Batman replied. "I just saved your life, now let's go."
With a silent signal they transported away from the gardens.
Paris – The Latin Quarter
He was on edge. Clark constantly scanned everything trying to see where it would come from. The Russians would come at him like a freight train, guns blazing with little care for civilians that got in the way. The Council's men would come at him head on too. Honor dictated they would show themselves before killing him. It was the Agency people he was most concerned with. If they could take him out with a headshot from a block away they would do it. They would slip up behind him and put a knife in his back and never show their faces. They were spies, contract killers and he was just another job to them. They could be all around him at this very minute and he would never know.
The screech of tires behind him signaled it was starting. Bullets chewed up the pavement and bore down on him. A black sedan had turned the corner and was trying to weave its way through the traffic, while guns fired from the windows.
"Everyone! Get down now!" He shouted as loud as he could. Clark began to run, as the pedestrians dove for cover. Windows shattered spraying glass everywhere. He kept moving but noticed not all the pedestrians had fled or hid in panic. Three men stood further up the sidewalk. Assassins, he just knew. Putting on a burst of speed to stay ahead of the bullets, Clark dove into the first man just as he was reaching under his coat. He managed to grab the man's hand before he could pull his gun and used him as a battering ram against the other two. In one fluid motion Clark knocked them down and then rolled, using them as cover as the doors on the black sedan opened. Russians poured out of the car, spraying bullets wildly at anything that moved. Clark could hear the screams as innocent bystanders once again got caught between him and the killers.
No more, he thought, no more innocent deaths because of me. With two powerful punches he knocked out assassins and picked up the third as a human shield. The man tried to fire his gun, but Clark grabbed his hand and squeezed with all his might. The man gave a strangled scream as the bones crushed under the force. Clark tossed him to the side and sprinted down the street, bullets whizzing all around him.
High over the city, Diana heard the gunfire. She dove straight for it, fearing what she would find. She could hear sirens racing towards the scene, but she would get there first. As she descended she saw something out of an old wild west show. Men stood in the street firing guns at everything and everyone. She thought she saw Clark racing away and rage filled her. She dropped out of the sky like an atom bomb, landing hard in the middle of the street. The pavement shuddered and cracked under the force.
Her mind was totally focused on one thing, these men were trying to kill the man she loved. She would make them pay for that. Her bracelets deflected bullet after bullet as she moved swiftly towards the Russians. A second and third car had joined the first and they were all firing now. She reached the first black sedan and in one motion lifted it off the ground, tossing it back into the others. She pressed forward and tore the door off one of the cars and threw it at the gunmen. Diana was a wrecking ball crashing through everything and anything in her way. Guns were ripped to pieces in her hands and the men wielding them were sent flying.
This was the champion of the Amazons, their greatest warrior in all her glory. She was a warrior against which this army had no answer. She was like an elemental being descended to this Earthly realm to bring justice to the wicked. She was a woman in love punishing those that tried to kill it. She was Wonder Woman in all her raw power.
The third Russian car was damaged, but still functional. The driver saw what was happening and put it in reverse to get away from her. He gunned it, but then was stopped by a huge lurch and everything got quiet for a moment. As he turned forward he saw Diana had punched through the hood of the car and was ripping the engine out. She tossed it aside as if it were a twig. Taking the front end of the car in her hands she lifted it high above the ground and then slammed it back down to the pavement. The tires blew under the impact. She lifted it again and this time tore it in half. The killers tumbled to the ground as twisted, screaming pieces of metal rained down around them. They looked up in fear as she stepped closer. Her lasso shot out and captured them. With a flick of her wrist they went flying against the nearest building. The impact was brutal and they slumped the pavement unconscious.
Shots rang out from above. Diana turned to see snipers on the rooftops. She glanced into the distance and saw Kal still running, but several men were hot on his heels. It seemed a whole squad was on his tail. Several of the bullets seemed to find their target and he stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet and keep running.
"NO!" Diana screamed and flew towards the rooftops. Sirens pierced the night as the police finally arrived. They started to get out of their cars, but gunfire pinned them down. They tried returning fire, but they were outgunned and out manned. A rumbled went through the night air and then part of the building's top floor was ripped away. The snipers went flying as the roof under their feet was torn away. They scrambled to fire at her, but Diana blocked every shot as she tossed the fragments of the building to the side. She made short work of them and then handled their unconscious bodies over to the police. They were asking all sorts of questions but she didn't have time for them now. She saw Kal run towards a kiosk and then disappear. The men chasing him followed. She turned and grabbed one of the police officers.
"What is that and where does it lead?" She demanded, pointing to the kiosk.
"Th-That's the-the sewers, ma'am." She was flying towards the kiosk in the next moment. She had almost reached it when the street buckled under the force of a blast. The kiosk disintegrated before her eyes and cut off any further pursuit. No, she told herself, she wasn't going to leave him down there by himself. She wasn't going to lose him, not now! Digging her fingers into the pavement, Diana began to rip her way downward into the bowels of the city. No force on earth was going to stop her tonight.
Clark was breathing hard as he stumbled down the steps into the darkness. He was bleeding from several places, but nothing vital had been hit. It had done damage though and he was having trouble breathing. Down and down he went, but he could hear the sound of footsteps following. Further away he heard a rumble like thunder, but he couldn't stop and think about it. Keep moving he told himself. He pressed on, but stumbled and fell the rest of he way down the stairs. He landed in water and the smell nearly overwhelmed him.
He'd reached the sewers of Paris. Huge underground tunnels stretched out in front and behind him. He managed to get to his feet and started moving into the darkness. It was a different world unknown to most, yet it lies just under our feet. It was a huge city of waterfalls and rushing rivers where tides ebb and flow as in the world above. It was something out of Jules Verne, this hidden network of passages underground. Built in the 1850's and 60's by Baron Haussmann on the commission of Napoleon III they were a massive series of tunnels and tributaries. Paris had another Paris under herself; a Paris of sewers; which has its streets, its crossings, its squares, its blind alleys, its arteries, and its circulation, which is slime, minus the human form. It was some sort of primordial mirror world of darkness and shadows.
Tonight Clark hoped it would be his salvation. He wasn't a gunman or killer so he did the only thing he could do, he ran. He heard the men behind him cursing him, the smell, the sewers, everything. They fired several shots in each direction hoping to hit him. He thought in the darkness they would get lost and give up. This was not to be, as they had come better prepared then he had. Flashlights came on and the beams began to sweep over the sewer tunnels. Rats and other assorted things that were best left a mystery scurried away from the light.
The rumble from above kept growing louder. Clark inched his way along the wall, taking the first side tunnel and slipping into the darkness. His breathing was labored as the blood continued to leak from several wounds. He was pretty sure one of the bullets had nicked his lung and it was starting to fill up with blood. Time, it became both his ally and enemy. The longer he could keep them chasing him the better chance there was of this all being over. But the longer this went on the weaker he would get. He had to face the very real prospect that he would never make it out of here alive.
In the darkness he inched forward, feeling his way along the slime covered brick walls. He couldn't see anything, except the sporadic beams of the flashlights behind him. He kept moving further and further into the darkness. Then his foot gave way under him and he went tumbling down and then over a waterfall. He splashed down hard several meters below and by the time he got to his feet he could hear the men shouting and running towards his location. He hurt all over, but knew he had to keep going. Limping, he started down the tunnel and back into the darkness.
Paris – The Outskirts
The Agency had a safe house nestled in amongst the select and very expensive neighborhoods of the Auteuil. The operation going on tonight was being coordinated out of this house. These weren't normally field agents, but support personal in constant communications with Washington. From the street it looked like just another mansion in a row of mansions. Usually it was a place for gathering information, electronic spying and coordinating logistics, but it had been pressed into service for tonight. A man named Bennett had flown in from London to run things, but things weren't going as planned. He paced back and forth behind three young assistants.
"What's the team status?" He asked again. "Where is the target?"
"He's gone into the sewers,' a young woman relayed to him. "The team is following."
"Damn it, he's one man it shouldn't be this hard to kill him,' Bennett grumbled in frustration. "Any word on Tresser or the other two?"
"No sir."
The third assistant turned and held his hand over his mike.
"Ms. Waller is calling, asking for an update." The young man said. "What should I tell her?"
Bennett stopped pacing for a moment and rubbed his hand over his face.
"Tell her its still in progress and I'll call her as soon as it's over."
"Yes sir."
"Have the got him yet?"
"No sir."
"Damn it!"
From somewhere else in the house, a doorbell rang. Bennett turned and glanced at the surveillance monitor. It showed a young woman standing at the door. She was wearing a hat so her face couldn't be seen, but she had on what looked like a cocktail dress and carrying a shoulder purse.
"Now what the hell is this?" Bennett wondered aloud. "Jennings, go see what she wants and get rid of her. Collins, Harper, keep at it. I want this guy run to ground and fast."
"Yes sir."
Jennings got up and quickly left room and headed for the front door. He was young, in his mid-twenties and was dressed as someone that lived in this sort of mansion would. The doorbell rang again just as he reached it. He opened the door to find a gorgeous young woman standing there.
"Oh, thank God, I was afraid no one was home.' She said with a smile of relief.
"Can I help you?" Jennings asked.
"My car broke down, I was wondering if I could use the phone?"
"I'm sorry, our phones are out of order,' he lamely offered, trying to get rid of her. She looked into his eyes and he saw for the first time she was some sort of Asian and European mix. She was exotic looking and quite beautiful.
"Not even a mobile?" She pleaded. "Please, I'm stuck and don't know what to do. Help me, please?"
There was something in the way she said the words that seemed to tug at the young man's heart. She made him feel like he was the only person in the world that could help her. She made him feel important.
"I guess you could use mine,' he offered bashfully.
"Oh, thank you,' she said with a devastating smile. "You're a hero.'
He actually blushed at this and then fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket. He had to look away for just a second to get it out, but then smiled as he pulled the phone from his pants and held it out.
"Here you go."
"Thanks." Suzette smiled and then fired one shot from the silencer she'd taken from her bag. The bullet hit him right between the eyes and he was dead before he hit the floor. "Now you're a dead hero."
She stepped over his body and scanned the front rooms of the mansion. She turned as Julian came up the front stairs. He glanced briefly at the dead man on the floor and then stepped over him. He closed the door and looked at Suzette.
"Another glorious death for the cause,' he said with a smile. "Let's find the others."
The two of them moved silently into the house, Suzette taking the lead, her gun at the ready. They moved up the stairs towards the second floor and could just make out the soft voices of people talking. Julian nodded to Suzette and then slipped a little further back.
Bennett was concentrating on the monitors and communications with his team, when the door opened.
"Did you get rid of her, Jennings?" He asked without looking.
"No."
The voice was soft and silky, and Bennett turned to see Suzette standing in the doorway holding a gun on him. After a moment, Julian came up behind her and leaned against the doorframe. He looked over the room and then turned his attention back to Bennett.
"Who the hell are you?" Bennett asked, straightening up. He instinctively reached for his gun, but Suzette stopped him with a warning shot.
"I don't like to waste bullets so don't try that again,' she calmly said.
The two assistants didn't know what to do and looked to Bennett for guidance.
"Okay, just stay calm," said Bennett, holding his hands up. "I'm sure we can reach some sort of agreement. Do you want money? Is that it?"
Suzette briefly looked at Julian. He nodded.
"Yes, money would be very nice,' Suzette replied.
"Fine, I can get you money, no problem,' Bennett offered.
"There is one other thing I'd like,' Julian said.
"What? Name it,' Bennett replied.
"Get Amanda Waller on the line. I'd like to talk to her."
This caught Bennett off guard and he fell back on his training.
"I don't know who or what you're talking about,' Bennett replied.
Julian sighed and then spoke to Suzette.
"Shoot him."
"Hey, wait a minute!" Bennett started to protest, but he was cut off by Suzette's bullet. As he slumped to the floor, Julian addressed the two frightened assistants.
"It seems you've been promoted,' he cheerfully told them. "Now one of you is going to connect me with Amanda Waller, it's just a matter of whether we have to shoot the other to do it."
"And I'm really starting to enjoy shooting people,' Suzette added.
Harper, the young female assistant spoke up.
"I'll get Ms. Waller on the line."
Julian smiled, but Suzette frowned a bit at this.
"See, "Julian said. "Things go so much smoother when you do what we ask."
"We only really need one of them, Julian,' Suzette suggested. "I could still shoot the other one."
"Ah, the impatience of youth,' Julian mused. "Perhaps later, my dear, we might need both of them, just in case."
Paris – The Sewers
Down, down, down, Clark went, navigating the slippery channels. He fell several times, but kept moving. The flashlights seemed to be gaining on him. The rumble from above seemed to be getting closer too. He guessed there were at least eight in the team coming for him and didn't like the odds. It would be a risk, but he had to try and lessen the odds. Stepping into one of the side passages he silently waited for them. They were spread out, cautiously checking each tributary. He watched their flashlights slowly move over the walls, ceiling and water.
These were the oldest parts of the sewer and some of the brick and mortar had come loose from the constant erosion of he water and years. Digging his fingers into the wall, he began prying one of the bricks from its place. His fingers were bleeding by the time he got it loose. Calming his breathing as best he could, Clark tossed the brick towards one of the far side tunnels. It hit against the wall and then skidded several times before dropping into the water.
He watched from his hiding place as the team silently signaled each other and began to move towards the source of the sound. The water was waist deep at this level, so it was slow going. Clark waited, trying to remain quiet as they moved by him one by one. They were just starting to enter the side tunnel when he made his move towards the last member. He lunged at the man, grabbing his wrist and taking him down under the water. The splash caused the rest of the team to turn. Their flashlights frantically scanned the murky brown water but it was impossible to see below the surface. One moment passed and then another. Suddenly a body floated to the surface. It was the man from their team.
Diana had reached the sewer and was moving as quickly as she could in the darkness. Suddenly two flashlights focused on her and gunfire followed. She deflected it and dealt with the gunmen. As their bodies drifted unconsciously down stream, she picked up one of their flashlights and continued. In the distance she head gunfire below her. Diana took the most direct path towards it.