GOTHAM ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS
The day after the explosion at the Convention Center, the Director of the Gotham Zoo had arranged a special VIP Tour of the facility for a select group of the CITES delegates, as well as a few reporters covering the summit, including Lois and Clark. Jordan had made a brief appearance to say hello before heading off with her fellow PEACE representatives for "shop talk". After the tour, Lois and Clark had taken the regular tourist route around the zoo.
Ever the journalist, Lois was making notes for her latest story, while Clark was securing their lunch from one of the food vendors. The sound of a child's delighted squeal caught her attention, and she glanced over to see a young boy being tossed in the air by Clark, while his father chatted with Clark. She recognized the other man as a journalist from The Gotham Herald, Andy Gordon.
The sight of Clark interacting with the little boy brought a smile to her face, as she rarely saw this side of her fiancé'. He really seems to like kids, she observed. He'll make a good father someday.
Tucking her story notes into her purse, Lois walked over to join them.
"Obviously you two are having a good time," she remarked.
"Mister Clark's teaching me how to fly!" the boy exclaimed happily.
"I can see that."
"How's the article coming?" Clark asked.
"It's almost finished," Lois told him. "I'm just making some adjustments here and there."
"Daddy, I want a hot dog," Jason pleaded.
"You're not supposed to eat hot dogs, buddy," Andy reminded him. "They make you sick to your stomach."
"I want a hot dog," Jason repeated stubbornly.
"It's just a hot dog, Andy," Clark interjected. "All kids should be allowed to have a hot dog at the zoo."
Andy shot him an exasperated look. "Some help you are," he admonished, then glanced down at his son. "Okay. You can have one hot dog."
Clark quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash, which he handed to Jason. "Here you go, Jason. Make sure you get some lemonade, too, so you don't get thirsty later on."
Jason nodded and dashed over to the hot dog vendor a few yards away.
"You didn't have to pay for his lunch, Clark," Andy said. "Thank you."
Clark shrugged. "My sister Jordan and I used to go through this with our parents every summer at the fair," he said. "We'd beg them to let us eat junk food all day, and then they got to say 'I told you so' when we got sick after coming home."
"Was that some sort of small-town ritual?" Lois teased.
"I suppose it was," Clark allowed.
Jason rejoined them then, happily munching on the hot dog he clenched in one hand and holding lemonade in the other.
"Do you want some, Daddy?" Jason asked, and offered him his hot dog.
"No thank you, buddy."
"Help!" a female voice suddenly screamed. "Somebody help! He stole my purse!"
Andy, Lois and Clark glanced up expectantly and saw a semi-hysterical woman gesturing at the fast-disappearing form of a large man running through the crowd.
"I uh…I have to go to the men's room," Clark announced suddenly. "I'll be right back."
Clark quickly made his way to the nearest restroom several yards down the trail, and after a quick scan with his X-ray vision to ensure it was empty, headed inside to transform into Superman.
Meanwhile the thief was running frantically through the crowded zoo, desperate to find a way out. Spotting a nearby fence that appeared to be the zoo boundary, he tucked the stolen purse into his jacket before scaling the iron fencing. On the other side, he found what at first glance was an empty exhibit. There was a small stream running through a grove of trees that lined the fence, and the grassy enclosure showed no signs of habitation. On the far side a few hundred yards away, he spotted another rod iron fence and decided to scale that as well to see if it would provide him with a way out. He started across the enclosure, convinced that security would not think to look for him in the abandoned exhibit. After about a hundred feet, however, some sixth sense kicked in and he slowly glanced over his shoulder to see a pair of very large tigers watching him from atop a cluster of artificial rocks.
"Nice kitties," he mumbled under his breath.
Knowing he would never make it across the rest of the enclosure before the cats caught him, the thief decided his only chance was to run back the way he'd come and attempt to get back over the fence before he literally became cat food. Saying a silent prayer, he bolted for the fence, and the tigers charged. Even if he had not already been fatigued from his dash through the zoo, the thief would have been no match for the speed of the predators, and he could see them getting closer as he continued his desperate dash for safety. He was still a good ten feet from the fence when the tigers reached striking distance and he closed his eyes as he braced himself for the attack. However, instead of the agony of a tiger bite, he felt himself suddenly lifted off the ground. He quickly shot an astonished glance skyward and discovered that Superman had grabbed his jacket collar and lifted him to safety.
"Good afternoon, sir," Superman greeted cheerily. "I'm afraid that zoo regulations don't permit you to feed the animals."
"Right," the thief muttered.
Superman flew back to where the victim was waiting with zoo security and the crowd grew larger as they watched him glide to earth. Gently setting the other man on his feet, Superman retrieved the stolen purse from the thief's jacket and returned it to the rightful owner as security took the thief away.
"I believe this belongs to you, Ma'am."
The woman clutched her purse to her chest as she gave Superman an adoring smile. "Oh, thank you Superman, thank you!"
Watching the exchange from a few feet away, Lois rolled her eyes before walking over to address Superman. "Hello, Superman," she said simply.
He turned to face her and gave her a warm smile. "Hello, Lois."
"Hi, Superman!" Jason greeted.
"Hi yourself."
"Can we go flying?"
Superman's smile widened at Jason's request. "Maybe another time," he answered
With a farewell wave to Jason, Superman flew out of sight, and a moment later Clark wandered over to rejoin Lois and Jason.
"So, did I miss anything?" he asked innocently.
METROPOLIS
Later that afternoon, Clark was at his computer making some changes to his article on a recent hunger strike by the prisoners at the Metropolis jail. He had just saved the final version and was in the process of printing it when Lois approached him.
"Hi, Clark," she greeted. "How's the story on the hunger strike coming along?"
"I'm printing it as we speak," Clark told her.
"What do you want to do for dinner tonight?"
"I thought we could order in some Chinese food and start working on our wedding plans," Clark replied.
"Sounds good to me."
The conversation was interrupted by the ring of Lois' cell phone, and she crossed over to her desk to fetch her phone.
"Lois Lane."
"Lois, it's Bruce. Is Clark with you by chance?"
"Yes, actually, he's right here. I'll put him on."
Lois glanced at Clark. "It's Bruce for you, and he sounds upset."
Clark quickly crossed the room and took the phone from Lois.
"Bruce?"
"Clark, I'm glad I found you. I tried to call you on your cell but I couldn't get through."
"The battery died this morning and I haven't had a chance to recharge it yet," Clark explained. "What's going on?"
"There was another terrorist attack and Jordan's been hurt," Bruce told him. "I'm here at Gotham Memorial Hospital and she's in surgery."
"I'm on my way."
Clark ended the call and returned Lois' phone. "Jordan's in surgery at Metropolis Hospital," he announced.
"What happened?" Lois asked.
"All Bruce told me was that there was another terrorist attack," Clark answered. "I have to go."
"Call me from the hospital," Lois said to his retreating back.
GOTHAM MEMORIAL HOSPITAL
By the time Clark reached the hospital and changed clothes, Jordan was out of surgery and sequestered in a private room. A uniformed police officer stood watch outside the door, and stepped in front of him to block Clark's entry when he approached.
"Excuse me sir, but I'll need some ID," he said.
Clark quickly reached into his coat and withdrew his press badge, which the guard glanced at before motioning him inside. Clark found Bruce seated in a chair at Jordan's side watching over her sleeping form and holding her right hand in his, carefully avoiding the IV leading into her arm. Her left arm was encased in a fresh plaster cast that extended from her elbow to her wrist and encased her hand. A few minor scrapes adorned her face, a stark contrast to the fresh bandage covering the stitches on her forehead, and Clark kept his voice low to avoid waking her as he addressed Bruce.
"What happened?" he demanded.
"Car bomb," Bruce answered. "After she was through at the zoo, Jordan called me so we could make dinner plans, and the next thing I know I hear an explosion over the phone line. By the time I got there, she was already on her way to the hospital. When I couldn't get through to you, I decided to just get here as fast I could."
"How badly was she hurt?"
"Basic scrapes and bruises along with a minor concussion, and she apparently landed on her left arm when the concussion wave from the blast knocked her off her feet. Both the radius and the ulna were broken clean through, resulting in a displaced fracture."
Clark sighed. "I suppose we should be grateful it wasn't worse," he allowed, "but I can't say I'm happy that these bomb happy zealots are now targeting my sister."
Bruce gestured at the door. "Gotham PD posted a guard just to make sure nobody shows up here to take another shot at her, but the detective on the case has 'strongly suggested that she find a temporary refuge outside the city to avoid further harm to the citizens of Gotham City'."
"What – like a safe house? Jordan will never go for that."
"Maybe that depends on the safe house in question."
Clark met his friend's gaze. "You want to take her to your house," he surmised.
"Can you think of anyplace safer?" Bruce asked rhetorically.
Any response from Clark was prevented by Jordan, who chose that moment to awaken, and she blinked a few times before focusing her sleepy gaze on Bruce.
"Hi, Cowboy," she greeted wearily, her voice raspy from the anesthesia.
"Hi yourself," Bruce returned softly. "How are you feeling'?"
"Like I've been trampled by a herd of elephants," Jordan responded. "Everything hurts."
"I imagine it does."
"I'm scared, Bruce," Jordan confessed. "I don't want anyone else to get hurt."
"No one else will," Bruce declared. "You have my word on that. We're going to catch these guys, Jordan, and when we do I promise they're going to pay for trying to kill you."
Jordan's smiled widened. "My hero," she replied lightly. "I'm glad you're here."
He smiled back. "So am I. You scared the hell out of me, though. Keep this up and my hair's going to turn even grayer."
"I like your gray hair," Jordon responded. "It gives you character."
"I think he has enough of that as he is," Clark commented from the other side of the bed, and Jordan shifted her attention to her brother.
"Hey, Big Brother…glad you could make the party," she said lightly.
"Very funny. This is the second time in as many days you've had a brush with death, Little Sister. You haven't been this much trouble since you discovered where bacon comes from."
Bruce glanced between the two. "Dare I ask?"
"I'll tell you later," Jordan said. "So, which one of you wants to run down the inventory of my assorted injuries?"
Bruce took the initiative and told her what he had told Clark. "You can be released in the morning provided there are no complications from the concussion and the surgeon said they can remove the cast and the pins in your wrist in about eight to ten weeks."
"Jordan, the police have suggested that you stay in a safe house until they can determine who is behind these attacks," Clark told her.
Jordan's response was immediate and emphatic. "Absolutely not."
"Jordan…"
"No, Clark. They'll probably stash me in some seedy motel in the middle of nowhere with no windows that will trigger my claustrophobia. Not going to happen."
Clark released a resigned sigh and glanced at Bruce. "Your turn," he replied. "I'm going to call Lois and let her know Jordan is alright."
Her brother exited the room to call Lois, and Jordan glanced at Bruce. "Et tu, Bruce?"
"I have an idea that should resolve the issue of a safe house," he replied. "You can stay at my house…well, technically it's the guest house."
"The guest house?"
"It's adjacent to my parents' house - Wayne Manor – and is on our private property just outside of Gotham. The property, you will be happy to hear, includes a forest and a large lake. The smaller house was recently remodeled so I could use it for a rental, but at the moment there are no tenants living there."
"You don't use Wayne Manor as your personal residence?"
"The Manor is actually in the midst of reconstruction, but I haven't lived there for several years. My personal residence is on the opposite side of the lake."
"Still close enough for convenience but offers more privacy," she surmised.
"Precisely."
Jordan held his gaze for a moment as she mulled his offer. "You realize that the only reason I'm even considering this is because the painkillers have turned my brain into oatmeal," she said dryly.
"I like oatmeal. It's good for you."
Jordan released small sigh. "The idea of not having to stay in a stuffy motel room that triggers my claustrophobia holds some appeal," she relented, "Do I get a family and friends rate on the rent?"
"Absolutely," Bruce assured her.
"Okay then," she said with a smile. "It looks like you've got yourself a house guest for your guest house."
Bruce returned her smile. "Feel free to come by my place any time to borrow a cup of sugar."
The following morning, Bruce returned to the hospital to pick up Jordan and take her home. Although surprised that Jordan had not put up more of a fight about staying in the guest house, he was nonetheless grateful that her new proximity to him would enable him to better ensure her safety.
As he made his way down the hall toward her room, his cell phone rang, and he stopped in place to answer it.
"Bruce Wayne."
"Mister Wayne, it's Lucius Fox."
"Lucius," he greeted. "What do you have for me?"
"I have some new information regarding the attack on Dr. Kent yesterday and the incident at the Convention Center," Fox told him.
"What have you found out?"
"Both bombings appear to be the work of a group calling itself 'Animal Avengers', which is a recently formed offshoot of the Animal Liberation Front. These folks align themselves with arms dealers and other terrorists, and target individuals or entities that they believe are causing harm to animals, directly or indirectly."
"Why are they after Jordan? She's very vocal and very public about her work for wildlife conservation."
"Gotham PD thinks it was a case of mistaken identity," Fox explained. "The rental car that Dr. Kent was driving is the same make and model as the car owned by a Dr. Jenny LaHaye, who is on ALF's Most Wanted List because of her use of animals for medical research. It's my understanding that she was attending a medical conference at the Convention Center the day of the explosion, which is why the venue was targeted."
"If this Dr. LaHaye was the target, then that means Jordan is no longer in danger," Bruce said.
"Actually Mr. Wayne, I believe Dr. Kent was the intended target," Fox responded.
"Really…what do you know that Gotham PD doesn't?"
"It took some digging, but I found out that Dr. Kent used to belong to a classified branch of PEACE that is affiliated with Interpol's Environmental Crimes Division. Apparently, she was endowed with the same powers as a standard Interpol agent, and was recently responsible for the capture of some very high-profile overseas criminals for smuggling, poaching and arms trafficking. The street value of the confiscated items is estimated at one million dollars."
Bruce let out a low whistle. "That would certainly explain why somebody wants her dead," he remarked. "Email me what you have and I'll review it on my way home."
"Consider it done, Mister Wayne."
Fox ended the call as Bruce completed his trek to Jordan's room. Walking inside, he found her dressed and seated on the edge of the bed as she talked on the hospital phone. Glancing up at his entry, she greeted him with a faint smile but motioned for him to keep silent.
"I'm sorry I made you worry, Mom," Jordan apologized. "According to Clark, I haven't been this much trouble since I discovered where bacon comes from."
Martha laughed. "Oh, I had forgotten about that," she said. "I don't think poor Fred Riley has even looked twice at a pig since."
"If that's true than I am glad to have done the pigs of Riley Place such a great service."
"I know you can take care of yourself, honey, but just be careful, all right?"
"I will, Mom. I'll call you in a couple of days. I love you."
"I love you too."
Jordan ended the call and shifted her attention to Bruce. "Good morning, Cowboy," she greeted cheerfully. "Here to spring me from this place?"
"I am indeed. How's your mother?"
"Given my close encounters with the Grim Reaper twice in as many days, I am fairly certain she has a few more silver hairs on her head," Jordan said wryly. "Otherwise, she is just fine."
"Good. Are you ready to go?"
"Absolutely."
"Come on; Alfred's waiting for us out front."
Jordan accepted his outstretched hand, and Bruce escorted her out of the hospital. Once outside, they spotted a town car parked at the curb and a distinctive looking older gentleman in a dark suit standing by the hospital entrance.
"This lovely young lady must be Dr. Kent," he surmised.
"I am," Jordan said. "And you must be Alfred."
"Guilty as charged."
"It's nice to finally meet you in person," Jordan said and extended her hand. "Clark and Bruce speak very highly of you."
"Likewise, Dr. Kent," Alfred returned, and they exchanged a handshake. "And may I say that Master Wayne's description fails to do you justice."
Jordan smiled at the compliment. "Thank you, Alfred," she responded. "But please call me Jordan."
"As you wish, Miss Jordan. Shall we go?"
"Lead the way."
They started for the car as Alfred said, "I understand that you study endangered species."
"Yes. I specialize in large predators."
"Well, that would certainly explain your interest in Master Bruce," Alfred deadpanned, earning him a chuckle from Jordan. "One can only hope that your presence will enable me to keep him somewhat in check."
"I'll do my best."
"Hello…I am standing right here," Bruce interjected.
"Of course you are, sir," Alfred agreed.
Much to Bruce's amusement, Jordan had drifted off to sleep shortly after leaving the hospital. While she napped and Alfred did his usual impeccable job of keeping an eye both on the road and his passengers, Bruce browsed through information Fox had sent him on the eco-terrorists. He withdrew his cell from his pocket and typed 'Animal Avengers' into an internet search engine. A few seconds later a variety of websites, articles and the like came up on screen. He clicked on the link to the Avengers site and a moment later a page containing graphic pictures of animals being poached, abused or used in medical research filled the screen. In the center of the page was a small blurb that stated:
Animal Avengers – Because Animals Come First.
The atrocities mankind is committing against nature are superseded only by the ones they are committing against themselves. Every day thousands of animal and plant species vanish off the face of the earth forever. Animals have no way to protect themselves against the injustices they endure at the hands of Humans. Therefore, we will fight back on their behalf, using whatever means and tools necessary to ensure they are allowed the freedom to live without fear and pain. We will avenge their mistreatment. We will avenge them.
The website went on to provide links to various other organizations dedicated to animal rights and conservation issues, including the Animal Liberation Front and PEACE.
"Rather an odd coincidence that their motto is so similar to PEACE's and that they provide a link to their site," Bruce mused aloud.
"Talking to yourself has been known to evoke questions of sanity, Master Bruce," Alfred remarked from the front seat, careful to keep his voice low enough to avoid waking Jordan.
Bruce smiled. "Jordan said much the same thing to me the night we met," he told his friend.
"Great minds do think alike," Alfred responded. "What are you looking at?"
"It's website for an animal rights group called Animal Avengers."
"Looking to expand your nocturnal activities to include the defense of all creatures great and small?"
"Jordan is a much more formidable opponent in that regard than I am," Bruce countered, and explained his conversation with Lucius Fox. "Based on the information on their website, it is certainly plausible they would resort to extreme measures for their cause."
"And you believe that these Avengers are the ones targeting Miss Jordan?" Alfred pressed.
"My guess is they're connected to the foreign smugglers that she ran afoul of a few months back," Bruce replied.
"Are you going to share this information with her brother?" Alfred asked.
"I'll talk to Clark after I confirm who exactly is responsible for the attempts on Jordan's life," Bruce deferred. "Once I do, I'm going make sure they regret it."