3: All That Glisters…

If only Bruce had been there. With her insistence and the power behind her words, they had investigated that shipping container, looking for any clues, a particular fascination with the corpse. But where they had found zero leads over where the kidnappers might have gone, no doubt Batman would have gotten the answer. No doubt he would have found what no one else could.

But he wasn't there. He couldn't be. She couldn't even talk to him. Even as everything was happening, he was going under the knife to keep the use of his arm. Diana couldn't ask him to risk that. She would not.

Likewise, she couldn't go to the Justice League. There was still too much politics in the air. The League had to be seen as remaining impartial, non-interfering. They didn't want to risk destabilising the public trust they had worked so hard to re-earn after the incidents with Cadmus and the Binary Fusion Generator. And so she hadn't even called them either.

What she really needed was someone independent, yet someone she could completely trust. Someone with the skillset to be able to unearth truths deeply buried and unsighted. Someone with the compassion to drive them to help save her these people, just as she had promised them she would.

And luckily, Diana knew someone who perfectly fit that bill. And she was even already in the country.

Lois Lane sat in the wooden chair beside Diana's own. As soon as Diana had told her what had happened, what they had to do, Lois had started to pull the strings to get things moving. Thanks to her same contact, by the time Diana had finished with the police and events at the camp Lois had already established exactly where to start looking. And it was back in with those same aid workers.

Hudson Price was a volunteer just like all the other workers, but according to Lois' contact he was the one who had taken the lead in trying to protect the camp from the snatchers. Off duty at the time, Lois had still managed to arrange a meeting with him, just at the cheap and tacky hotel room in the nearby village where he stayed.

Which was why they were here now, both sat together on the old-fashioned furniture at the foot of the bed in the single room lodgings. A third chair set up in front of them, it was soon taken as Hudson sat there with them, handing out steaming cups of coffee as he did so. Lois took hers gratefully, immediately taking a sip, but Diana merely set hers down beside her chair.

"So, Hudson Price. That's not a very Italian name," Lois pointed out as she finished her sip. "And that accent sounds awful familiar."

Hudson let out a soft chuckle. He was very much a skinny man, mid-thirties. Pale skinned with straggly hair and beard, he was what some people might describe has a typical 'hipster' in appearance.

"You're right," Hudson replied, showing off that accent again. "I'm from Stateside. But when I started seeing the stories of what was going on out here, I decided to jack everything else in and come here to help. Sold my house, sold the car so that I could stay out here as long as I can. Didn't feel like I had a calling back home. Trying to look after these people felt like it wasn't a bad one to go for. But enough about me. A world renowned journalist and one of the greatest heroes of our age have shown up at my door. I must say, I wasn't expecting that."

Lois shrugged that statement off easily off. "We're both here because of what's happening at your camps, Mr Price. Wonder Woman to save them, me to tell their story. Since you must know we're aware of each other through Superman, we thought we'd spare you with one interview instead of two."

"And so we can do this quicker, too," Diana immediately tacked on to the end of Lois' words, not using the other woman's décor and subtleties but instead going in blunt. "Because people are disappearing from your camp. I was there today as two more were taken. I spoke to the migrants who live there. It sounds to me like there is an epidemic of corruption and opportunistic assault, with the kidnappings at the forefront. We need your help to stop it, and to find where those people have gone. Fast."

Lois glanced Diana's way in response, clearly thinking Diana's approach was too blunt. Not her style, but Diana's through and through. Hudson too was put back by it, but not enough to stop him from answering.

"I agree wholeheartedly with your sentiment, Wonder Woman. And yes, I've heard the stories. I've seen faces I looked to every day suddenly not be there the next morning, families broken apart. But I've already been telling the police everything I know. The local mayor and the council too. I've written to the UN. I've shouted no end up to my fellow aid workers. And we've been doing what we could. More patrols, inside and out, even bringing in dogs. Strengthened the fencing, built up the walls. Got as much funding in as we can, as many security people. We had to sell it as keeping people in the camp rather than the bad people out, but we did what it took to get that funding. But none of it seems to have made a difference. We keep shouting for more help, I keep shouting for more help, but I'm just not sure how much appetite is there in all quarters to put the resources in. I wouldn't even be surprised if some of them didn't even want for more of the refugees to go missing…"

"That's a pretty bold statement, Mr. Price," Lois said, latching onto that last sentence. "Do you have any evidence to back it up? Any names…?"

"Oh no, no, no, no. No," Hudson quickly retracted. "I was only speaking hypothetically you understand. That bit wasn't for print as, you're right, I have proof of nothing. I don't want your papers getting me sued for libel! But all I meant was, hypothetically speaking, it would take away a huge problem for the politicians if those migrants simply went away…"

"Then allow me to ask you a similar question from a different perspective," Wonder Woman stepped in, biting back the frustration she was feeling so it didn't leach into her tone. Yes, she was impatient and blunt, but they did have to keep this man on side if they wanted him to keep talking. Maybe that was why Lois was the great journalist and she was the superhero. Lois was obviously better at this. "Have you ever seen any of the abductors? Have you ever had any contact with them? Do you know any of their names?"

That made him shift in his seat. At first he looked up at her, perturbed, as if she was accusing him of something. Hurriedly he fidgeted with his sleeves, almost as if a comforting action as he pulled them down further over his wrists, before finally managing to shake his head.

"Like I say, we've tried to protect these people. Me and the rest of the workers, we're no fighters but we have patrolled the camp too. We have kept an eye out even if… Even if none of us had a clue what we would due if we ran into one of the kidnappers. I like to think I could have stood tall against them, but… It could all have been different if I'm faced with the barrel of a gun. I'm not too macho to admit that. But I say it again, its never happened. They covered their tracks well, timed their access well. I've never seen them, never met them. As far as I know, they could be absolutely anybody. As unfortunate as that is."

"Unfortunate indeed, but understandable Mr Price," Lois quickly said, soothing as she did so, offering a nod that made Hudson smile, his uneasiness clearly put to rest. "Anyway, I think we've taken up too much of your time already. You can't have too much of it to yourself out here. I'm sure I speak for Wonder Woman when I say we don't want to dispose you of any more of it."

Now it was Diana caught off guard, flashing Lois a look. Hudson was doing the same, no doubt for the same reason. They had only just gotten there, Diana's untouched coffee barely even starting to get cold at her feet. They most certainly didn't have the answers Diana had come for either, yet Lois was bringing it to close.

"So soon?" Hudson voiced that surprise.

"I think we've got the message and, as Wonder Woman already pointed out, we are up against the clock on this one," Lois once again shrugged it off, though she did draw out a scrap of paper and scribbled something on it. "This is my contact number though. Give me a call if you think of anything else that might help."

"Of course," Hudson nodded, taking the scrap Lois was handing him. But Lois was already standing, leading Diana to follow suit. She was left on autopilot, still stunned and unsure what was happening. It meant she barely even registered as Lois lead their goodbyes to the aid worker, nor as they left his temporary home and wandered out into the early evening night of the town. They'd crossed down the road of Hudson's hotel to the car Lois had used to get there, seating themselves within by the time she finally managed to truly speak again.

"Well that told us nothing…"

"I wouldn't speak too soon, if I were you."

Diana had allowed a sense of disappointment to creep out as she sat in the passenger seat. Lois though, still had plenty of spirit about her. The look on her face was one of smug victory. That immediately got Diana's attention.

"What is it you know…?"

"It was a very expensive watch on his wrist, don't you think?" she answered. Diana could only shrug, no words. She hadn't even noticed he'd had a watch. For one she hadn't been looking, but he'd also worn his sleeves long. He even made sure they were pulled down low at one point too. Almost as if he was hiding something…Maybe Lois was onto something. "Gold plating, an Omega Seamaster 300 if I'm not mistaken. Very pricey. Not the kind of thing a man who cared for the migrants as much as Mr Price made out he did would normally own. Sold the car and the house, bought the watch…? I don't think so. Its selfish. It doesn't fit the profile he wants to give us. I don't buy it."

"It could be an heirloom," Diana mused, playing devil's advocate as much as anything else. "Something he didn't want to let go of…?"

Lois shook her head. She then reached down, drawing something from Hera knew where. Something Diana had no idea how Lois had gotten hold of, yet it was definitely there. Another scrap of paper. It took Diana a second to truly see it as Lois held it up.

A receipt. A watch receipt. And only a few days old…

"Its new," Lois put the issue to bed bluntly. "I spotted this in his trash can while he was making the coffee and swiped it. It looked suspiciously like he was trying to get rid of something, I thought it was worth digging into. "Thousands of Euros spent. And how did a man like him get the money?"

Hera. First of all Diana was dumbfounded how Lois even noticed that. Yes, now it seemed very naïve and panicked of Hudson, but Diana would never have seen through his subterfuge. But that wasn't all…

"Even in a place like this, the snatchers, the manipulators, the black-market runners, all of them, they're not getting in and out of that camp as completely unnoticed as he made out. Not without help from the inside. Its about the only thing I believed Hudson on. Someone must be corrupt. Well, probably more than one person, but still…"

"He was bribed…" Diana breathed, what Lois was telling her fully dawning on her. "Price has been taking money to let the abductors into the camps?!"

Lois was about to say it, to confirm it once and for all. But before she could speak, her phone started ringing. Immediately she was pulling it out, an instant during which Diana actually thought it could be Hudson following up on the number Lois had given him. As Lois answered, Diana was left hearing only one side of the conversation. At least it confirmed her initial suspicion was wrong, that this wasn't Hudson, but she still wasn't clued in on what was going on until Lois hung up and set the phone down in one of the cupholders.

"That was the coroner," Lois explained. "Another of my contacts got me in with their office. Thought it would be handy considering what you told me happened to that kidnapper with the profligacy for overly extreme dieting methods. I can't even pronounce what they've just confirmed he ingested, but there is one very interesting titbit they've given me. They can't ID the guy, but they've confirmed he's not Italian. He was from Nairomi."

"He was one of the migrants?!"

Diana had thought she had been stunned before. This was something else. Why would one of the migrants do that to his own kind…? How could he…? And why would he kill himself as grotesquely as he had…? It didn't make sense…

"I think there might be more going on here than just smuggling and modern slavery…" Lois slowly muttered in response, saying exactly what Diana had been thinking.

"So what do we do now…?" It took Diana a while before she could speak again, all manner of thoughts tumbling through her head. All sorts of questions and still so little answers. The only way she could break from it all was to try and look ahead, to whatever they needed to do to start finding some. "If Hudson is betraying those people, do we need to go back in and make him talk?"

"Oh he'll talk, but we won't have to make him," Lois calmly countered. The phone she had just used was still down in the cupholder, yet Diana watched as Lois drew another. "Not that I plan on making a habit of it, but I may have just stolen a trick from Rupert Murdoch. Don't judge me, but with lives on the line and my suspicions of him high, I thought I'd make an exception and break the rules this time."

Diana could only stare, but she was clued up enough on current events of the last few years to understand what Lois was saying. Just as Lois had taken the watch receipt without anyone noticing, she had also somehow managed to hack Hudson's phone as he'd been busy making the coffee. Linked, maybe even completely mirrored to Lois' second device, they had access to Hudson's device.

And, having just been confronted by a superhero and a great journalist, if he was guilty then Hudson could easily be spooked. And if he was afraid, he'd no doubt turn to the people he was working with to figure out how to cover his tracks and protect himself as he had failed to protect others. Hudson Price was no criminal mastermind, Diana was at least sure of that, which meant he would need their help. He would need to meet them, no doubt, which first meant he would need to make contact.

Which in turn meant that any second…

Sure enough, Lois' second phone soon started to ring. Quickly, Lois picked it up, showing Diana the display, the registering of the outgoing call ready for them to listen in.

"Showtime," Lois grinned.

Mišel Breèko. That was the name they'd heard. The man who at the very least was Hudson's handler, if not the villain of the piece. She hoped for the latter. At least then this might be over quicker.

By then night had fallen fully. That had been Hudson's instructions, to wait til it was dark, to make sure the coast was clear and to use the night help make sure he wasn't followed. But while those were cautious instructions, hearing him on the phone had made clear that this Breèko was a very egotistical and cocksure man, even if he did vent frustration at Hudson for using his real name on the line. He immediately seemed the kind of person who felt he was untouchable. The kind of person who, even after hearing that Wonder Woman and Lois Lane were on that trail of one of his key assets, would still be presumptuous enough to assume that they wouldn't still be watching.

But while Breèko was blasé, Hudson was very much the weedy man he had appeared. He had followed the instructions in waiting, but in terms of making sure he wasn't followed, he lacked the skills to make it happen. Especially with Lois' skills in ensuring they weren't seen. A key trait of investigative journalism, being able to follow a lead under the radar until you were ready to play your hand. Which meant there was nothing stopping them following Hudson's car right to those who had corrupted him.

The docks. They didn't need the signage to make that clear to them as they pulled up slightly further down the road from where Hudson stopped. The sounds of the sea, the smell of the fish, it had all gotten stronger here. Breèko had merely told Hudson to meet him at 'the usual place' on the call, preventing Diana from charging straight in after him, weapons drawn. But now there was no doubt. This was that place. This was where Breèko and Hudson were meeting. At the place where a lot of those migrants from the Cuore dei Beati Antenati camp likely came to shore.

A place that would be a ripe location for manipulative, opportunistic criminals like this Breèko to operate from.

As soon as she saw Hudson pulling up out front, Diana had those pieces put together. And she knew just as fast. Now was indeed the time to draw those weapons.

"I assume this is the part where you go telling me to wait here?" Lois muttered to her from the driving seat. There was an edge to her words, almost as if daring Diana to do it. But Diana did dare. She wasn't about to go risking Lois' life for nothing, no matter how brave Lois was. After all, she did have a knack for getting into trouble. But Diana wasn't exactly sending her home either.

"Until I've knocked the fight out of them," Wonder Woman simply answered with a wry smile. "Until its time to ask them the questions again. Then by all means, join me in there. I'll give you a signal when its time. I'm sure you'll recognise it."

Lois could only smirk back at her. "Then it sounds like I can't wait to see this!"

The chill of the evening breeze was cool against his skin, the smoke blown from his mouth making his breath conversely warm. But soon he was raising the cigarette back up to his lips, taking minimal time between the drags. Tonight was one of those nights. The sea was still, the air even stiller, yet something hung in it. A sensation, a feeling. The sense that it was time to turn the page, to write the next chapter. The time to tie up some loose ends.

And to take a moment of calm relief before packing up and tearing down.

"Mišel. He's here."

Anže Èrešnar had walked up behind him to make the announcement. His old friend from old days, from back in the village when life was quiet and tame. And poor. When the calm was dull instead of…relaxing. But he didn't turn back to look, not at first. Instead he took another long, drawn out moment to gaze across the dark sea before him. The flowing, rolling halls of the coastline in and around the docks. It hadn't been a bad place to live and work, this. It had been a good venture. While it lasted.

But everything ends someday.

It was only as the faint sounds of footsteps reached him over the soft patter of waves against the hull did he slowly spin round. Even as he did, he took yet another drag on the almost burnt out cigarette as part of the motion. He barely even saw the other men's faces before he was blowing out the full breath of smoke into them. It had barely begun to clear either before he was dropping the stub of embers to the deck beneath his feet, symbolically stamping it out with his foot.

Anything to make it clear who was in charge. And what that meant that he could do.

And as if symbolic of how weak he was in comparison, Hudson Price coughed and spluttered at the smoke in his face, beaten even by something as simple as that. Mišel Breèko knew he was no good man, but this Hudson… Even Breèko felt he was scum.

"I didn't tell them anything Mišel, I swear…" Price was immediately stammering. But Breèko didn't want to hear it. He hadn't instructed Hudson to come to the boat for excuses and denials. Instead, he was instantly shushing, holding a rough-skinned finger up towards the skinny, scruffy man's lips as he shook his head. He still didn't speak though, instead looking back over to Èrešnar, and the two other men who had also walked up with Price. The men entrusted to bring Price to him. To again show his power.

"No sign of any tail, boss," one of the men answered. "No overly brave cops around the dockyard. He's clean."

Of course he was. Mišel Breèko owned these dockyards. He owned this town. He owned every out of towner he needed to to avoid questions being asked. And he owned all the muscle he needed to keep his investments safe. Even as they spoke, he had two dozen men patrolling the warehouses, stores and offices of the dockyards. Each of them armed to the teeth. If any policeman was fool enough to try and take him on, to follow Hudson to him, the sounds of gunfire would have already filled the air.

But no amount of muscle would help if the mob turned on him. If his operation drew enough attention that the politicians and the police commissioners and the lawmakers had no choice but to ignore his money and follow their howls of anger. And if Wonder Woman and Lane were sniffing around…

Everything ends. Even all good things. And especially the bad ones.

"Then you can put that away, my friend," Breèko said, gesturing to the pistol worn at Èrešnar's hip. It was an unnecessary gesture in terms of action, Èrešnar simply pulling his jacket in tighter to conceal the weapon. But again it made Price look at the instrument that could so easily destroy him. Again it made Price afraid of them.

"Mišel, I… I thought you were going to help… What is this…?" Price stammered. Breèko didn't stop him this time. Instead, for a brief moment, he simply turned, taking the step back to the railing, allowing himself a warm smile.

"I always liked boats," he said when he finally spoke again, looking back at Price and seeing his startled look at the seemingly random comment. As he said it, his arms gestured to the vehicle on which they stood. Currently moored at the dockyards, the seagoing vessel was Breèko's pride and joy. Not quite a pleasure yacht but far from a tanker or a tug. His faithful voyager. "Ever since my youth. There's something about them, about the sea. About the calm, the nature. The escape. They've always been symbolic to me. A symbol of richness, of power. And of being free. Being able to simply cut a rope and drift away from all of life's problems. Just a simple…cut. Don't you agree, Hudson?"

As he said it, Breèko made a cutting gesture with his hand. Not quite across the throat, but close enough to keep Price on edge. He enjoyed toying with the scum.

"Actually, I was always more of a country boy…" Price just about stammered when he could finally break away from looking at that hand. "Odd as it may sound, I've always found myself most comfortable around natural land, even the dirt and the dust."

"I don't doubt that," Breèko quickly interjected. The Lord knew, Price was comfortable in the dirt. His hands were covered in it. "From your youth?"

Price was soon giving a nervous nod. "Out in the prairies of Minnesota. The old man was a farmer."

"Oh, really?" Breèko responded, feigning an interest. "So was mine. Yes, out in the Gjakova district, in a small rural community. Have you heard of it?"

This time Hudson was shaking his head. "To be honest, geography was never my best subject…"

"How about history?" Breèko suggested instead. "I'm sure even in the prairies of Minnesota people watch the news? But then, I suppose not all stories are told the same, are they? There was a fascinating story from my village, you see. Over twenty years ago now. Maybe even twenty-five. I try not to count. Ringing any bells?"

Again, Hudson was only shaking his head, knobbly knees almost audibly quivering.

"Well the bells in the village were ringing, I can tell you that," Breèko pressed on. "But only slowly mind you. Because you see, my brothers, my sisters, my neighbours and friends. My people. What happened that day has meant they are all now very familiar with the dirt."

Breèko paused again, allowing himself the time to read Hudson's reaction. It was fair to say that Price at least wasn't slow to cotton on. The blood could visibly be seen draining from his face to his toes. Now Price clearly finally recalled his history.

"Kosovo…" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Yes, Kosovo," Breèko confirmed for him. "But not every slaughter was conscious. Not every mass grave was found. I saw things out there, Hudson. I learned things. I learned how the world works. I learned to understand business. And I learned to understand this."

"What… What is it?" Hudson stammered out the question. By now he looked more than ready to back away, almost run. If only his legs could move instead of simply shake. If only he wasn't so afraid of the still watchful Èrešnar and his cohorts. Because in Breèko's fingers he now clutched a small orb, a spherical glass vial, held up to the moonlight for Hudson to see. Faintly green in colour, its gaseous contents could be seen floating inside.

"A complex blend of chemicals, primarily made up of carbon and triple bonded nitrogen. Or were your chemistry classes no better than your geography ones, Hudson?"

This time, Hudson clearly didn't understand. But it didn't mean he wasn't still scared.

"Oh, I'm sure you've heard of a sister chemical," Breèko continued to push. "Cyanide. A very similar blend to this, is cyanide. Only this in my hand is more enriched, more concentrated. More deadly. Exposure to this gas is definitely not recommended. A single wisp of it hits your lungs and you aren't just dead. Your nervous system fails. Your breathing fails. Fluid fills your oesophagus as you choke on your own bile. And then, its like your organs combust from the inside, flesh and tissue eaten away before your very eyes. The whole process only takes moments, but the best experts think it must feel like hours. Days. It's a horrible way to go. But I saw it in the fields of Gjakova, Hudson. I saw it in the dirt. I saw as they used the cover of the conflict, the cover of the massacres and graves already being dug all around us, to test they're new poison. I saw as the outsiders eradicated my village and my family, all to see if their new creation was good for business. I saw as they succeeded in their secrecy, and as no-one in the world blinked an eye that another eight hundred lives had been snuffed out with just a simple whiff of gas. And then I saw as they took their gas to market. A market the world still hasn't heard of. A market I made sure to be a part of.

"I told you I learnt from the dirt of my home, Hudson. I learnt that for good business, nothing can be allowed to stand in your way. That there is no price too steep, no step too far if it means achieving your goals. That people, all people, are only collateral on the path of ambition and conquest. I learnt that lesson well. And from that day on, I built my own empire. Standing on the shoulders of history.

"Hence this venture along the Mediterranean. The migrants, the refugees. The business opportunity they represent. The collateral.

"But it takes a special business idea for it to last. And I fear this one has already shown to be fleeting. Not worth the continued investment. Which means its time to close the books here and return to the East. There's still plenty of opportunity in gunrunning around the Crimean Peninsula. Here…

"There are only loose ends. And collateral that needs to be forfeited. Do you understand what I mean Hudson?"

He most certainly did. He obviously had almost from the moment that he'd set foot onto Breèko's boat. For a long time, he had simply foolishly chosen not to admit it to himself. Now the panic was setting in, gaze jumping around between that vial in Breèko's hand and the cold look in his eyes. Weak, now he did finally try to back away, but it was futile. Breèko's two men around him were quick the grab him by both arms and to not let go. Leaving Hudson only one choice. To beg.

"Breèko, I can get you more… More of migrants! The camp is still vulnerable, this doesn't have to be over…! You don't have to do this!"

"Oh, I'm afraid I do," Breèko could only shake his head. "Even before recent escalations. The employer who gave us our biggest opportunity, who has personally bought much of my supply of the carbon nitrates… That madman is taking over this racket. It may still be profitable, but there are some industries even I want no part of. And I both want no part of what he's doing, nor the complications of competing for the same Nairomian…resource. No, this is as good an excuse as any to get out. To clean house. Especially with Wonder Woman and Lane starting to sniff around."

"I told them nothing, Mišel. Nothing! I swear! I…I could come with you! I could disappear! I could go back to Minnesota and never speak to anyone again! But you don't have to do this!"

"Maybe not," Breèko admitted with a shrug. "But sometimes what you want to do and what you need to aren't aligned. I have no morals Price, so I have none to betray. But you… You deserve to be in the dirt."

By then Price was screaming, struggling in vain to get away, what was coming left in no doubt. But he was silenced as one of Breèko's men grabbed at his jaw, forcibly holding it and his mouth open. Ready for Breèko to ram the vial of poison straight down his throat and watch the man burn.

But ready was as far as they got. Because it was then that the commotion began.

It was then that they first heard the gunfire.

A/N:

If that seemed like a sudden cut off, its because it was. The chapter wound up getting towards being twice as long as it was first planned to be, so I've split it down the middle. But don't worry, the rest will follow soon!

In the meantime, review away my friends! (Please...)