[The Talon, Friday November 29, 8:45 a.m.]
"Lana, this is Assistant D.A. Serena Southerlyn," Munch nodded towards the counselor.
"Nice to meet you," Lana shook her hand.
"I realize things have been tense over the past few days," Southerlyn explained, "but speed is of the essence in this investigation. As you know, Luthor Corp. is using all of its resources to delay and stall the trial."
"I just can't believe Lex would have anything to do with that killing," Lana said. "Another double espresso?"
"Yes, please." Southerlyn looked around. "John, you mentioned that Lex runs a fertilizer plant in town."
"That's the story," Munch sipped on his black coffee. "Apparently, he turned down an opportunity to work at Luthor Corp. HQ to remain in Smallville."
Southerlyn seemed puzzled. "Hmm, that doesn't sound like someone angling for a corporate takeover."
"Maybe so," Tutuola remarked. "but I just got this bad vibe about the Luthors. Both father and son."
"Why the haste to get to Kansas, Ms. Southerlyn?" Munch asked. "We had the state troopers deliver the affidavits to Topeka overnight. We were about to deliver the seized evidence from Kent and Sullivan this morning."
"We can go to Metropolis this afternoon," Southerlyn sipped her espresso. "Great coffee, by the way, Lana. Actually, do you happen to know where Clark Kent is now?"
"He has homeroom around 9:10," Lana checked the wall clock. "About 20 minutes from now."
"John, Fin . have another cup of coffee," Southerlyn placed a $10 bill on the table, "I need to talk to Clark right away."
"I hope it's not serious. I could come along?" Lana inquired. "Christine can watch the Talon for a bit."
"You might as well know, Lana, because you're going to find out anyway," Southerlyn replied. "I'm going to subpoena your friend to testify - in New York."
"The plot thickens," Munch remarked.
[Smallville High, Friday November 29]
Southerlyn and Lana pulled into the school parking lot.
"Whoa, who's that blonde with Lana?" Pete answered.
Lana pointed towards Clark. "There he is, Ms. Southerlyn."
Clark walked towards them. "Hi Lana."
"Clark, this is -" Lana began.
Southerlyn extended her hand. "-Assistant D.A. Southerlyn. I've heard much about you, Mr. Kent." She presented him with an envelope.
Clark read the document. "'. New York District Attorney's office . ordered to testify . to present material evidence pertaining to Lex Luthor . ' This is a subpoena?"
"I wish we could have had you submit an affidavit so you wouldn't have to disrupt your classes," Southerlyn stated, "but you're Lex Luthor's best friend. The D.A.'s office intend to put you on the stand. I'm sorry."
Clark was stunned. "Do I have to go to New York right away?"
"Depending on how long the trial goes," Southerlyn replied, "we will need to summon you sometime next week or the week after. And I'm afraid you have no choice."
"I am NOT going to tell the jury that I think Lex is guilty, because he's not. He can't be!" Clark shook his head in disbelief.
"You'll be under oath, so you'll have to tell them the truth . or risk contempt of court charges," Southerlyn explained. She checked her watch. "I'm afraid I've got to run. I have one more errand to do."
"In Smallville?" Lana wondered.
"The Luthor Estate," Southerlyn answered.
[Luthor Estate, Friday November 29]
Southerlyn rang the doorbell.
The butler answered. "Mr. Luthor has been expecting you."
Southerlyn gasped at the opulence of the main foyer. Ancient statues, artifacts and tapestries.
"You're from the D.A.'s office?" Lionel inquired from his seat near the fireplace. "Let me guess, you're here to deliver a subpoena demanding my presence before that Star Chamber you call a court of justice?"
"How did you --?" Southerlyn was surprised.
"Lex's legal team suspected you might try such a stunt," Lionel replied. "On the table over there, my counsel have the necessary papers. You would call it a 'motion to dismiss' that so-called subpoena."
"On what grounds?" Southerlyn demanded.
"My doctors, therapists and care-givers feel that the trip to New York and the subsequent trial would place my health in danger," Lionel recited, "and that a subpoena forcing me to testify about those ridiculous allegations regarding those chemical shipments . well, it would be cruel and unusual punishment. You might appeal. I'm quite prepared to fight it all the way to the Supreme Court. I have friends in the capital. Do you, counselor?"
"Is that a threat, Mr. Luthor?" Southerlyn declared.
"It's a word of advice," Lionel replied. "I consider Arthur Branch a fair and just man. That's why I supported his bid for the D.A.'s office. Jack McCoy is a self-righteous prick. If you have any ambition in you, Ms. .?"
"Southerlyn." she stated. "and D.A. McCoy has an enviable record - by any standard."
"Hitch your wagon to a winner, Ms. Southerlyn," Lionel turned away from her voice. "If there's nothing further, I have physiotherapy in 15 minutes."
I'm one-for-two, Southerlyn grumbled as she returned to Smallville. Clark has his subpoena. Lionel effectively rejected his.
Cragen was right, she feared. If McCoy misread his chances in this trial, Luthor will pull every lever, push every button - to punish those who dared to tarnish him.
Which is why I need to get to Metropolis to go over that computer evidence and build an airtight case.
[Major Case Squad, One Police Plaza, Friday November 29]
"Good morning Captain Deakins," van Buren smiled. "You mentioned that you've come across something of interest to the Luthor investigation?"
"Detective Goren has been sifting through endless phone records," Deakins replied, "He was trying to find a pattern ... something to connect to mob to money laundering. It's a slow process, but I think we've come across some interesting calls."
They opened the meeting room, and found Goren playing SOCOM: Navy Seals on a Playstation 2.
Goren leaped to his feet. "Captain! Lieutenant van Buren ... hey there.I was just doing some field research."
Deakins seemed amused. "If you're not too busy, detective, would you care to explain what you discovered this morning?"
Goren held up his hand. "Just a sec." He dashed down the corridor. When he returned, he had one of the knives retrieved from the warehouse raid.
"This, Lieutenant, is no ordinary knife," Goren began, as he carefully examined its hilt and blade. "It's made by a manufacturer in Michigan, an exclusive supplier to the U.S. Army."
"That's what Detective Green noticed," van Buren nodded, "He said they were likely stolen."
"There's more," Goren continued. "I noticed plenty of activity in the phone records between Luthor Corp. and Fort Hood, the largest Army base in the country. I didn't think much of it at first. The Luthors are major suppliers for the Pentagon. Which brings me back to the knives." He studied the hilt carefully.
van Buren waited. "And?"
"The knife is not standard issue for regular infantry ... but it IS standard equipment for U.S. Special Forces. Specifically, the U.S. Army Rangers. Considering that the mob intended to market these stolen weapons to criminal elements in the Colombian underworld - the cartels, right-wing paramilitaries, etc. - and the ease in which these gangsters had access to these weapons ..."
"You're thinking that Luthor's been doing some freelance merchandising ... right under the noses of the Pentagon," van Buren added.
"But Luthor needed someone on the 'inside'," Goren explained, "someone who had access, the ability to conceal the theft ..."
"Goren thinks there must be an Army Ranger out there in Fort Hood collaborating with Luthor's people," Deakins stated. "If he's not actively involved in the theft, he may be providing information or contacts to Luthor."
"He?" van Buren interrupted. "Or they?"
"Maybe. If it's an enlisted soldier involved in the theft, the most that we can do is inform the Judge Advocate General of our suspicions," Deakins stated. "It's for the military police to pursue. Maybe we'll have the FBI make some inquiries around Capitol Hill."
"Unless -," van Buren examined the knife. "- the perp is some AWOL, Rambo- type. A freelancer-for-hire."
"You mean, like, the A-Team? Mercenaries?" Goren suggested.
"Maybe," van Buren replied. "Except without Mr. T and the mohawk hair-do. Have these knives and weapons been checked by the CSU?"
"They're running any prints against NYPD and federal databases," Goren answered. "We'll ask the JAG office in New York for their help on any AWOLs."
"This is good stuff!" van Buren exclaimed. "The D.A. will love it ... if it pans out. And the connection to the Playstation game, Robert?"
Goren grinned sheepishly. "That's SOCOM: Navy Seals. You see, you get to be part of this SEAL team. They give you a mission ... and you gotta take out the bad guys before they get you. I'm trying to get to the next level ...I just got into this gung-ho, GI Joe mood after all that research about the special forces. It's soo cool!"
van Buren chuckled. "So you just decided to buy yourself a video game for inspiration?"
Goren shook his head vigorously. "At $60 a pop? No way! Blockbuster rental. I gotta get to level three by Sunday."
"Does he even do any work around here?" van Buren joked with Deakins.
Deakins grinned. "Good job, Detective Goren."
The sounds of loud explosions and gunfire echoed throughout the office. As Goren played the game, he smiled.
Lionel Luthor hasn't given up his arms trading, he thought. Why should he? The fall of the Berlin Wall opened up many opportunities for soldiers of fortune - no longer bound by the rules of the Cold War.
[Infirmary, Sing Sing Correctional Facility, Friday November 29]
McCoy peered through the ward room window. "A bruised rib, eh? He'll live."
"I'm moving to have Lex transferred to a medium-level institution," Goldstein argued. "This should be proof enough of the imminent danger to Lex's well-being."
"Lex Luthor is charged with first-degree murder," McCoy declared. "He stays in Sing Sing until the trial. I don't care if he is friends with Mayor Bloomberg. I've talked to the warden. Lex will be assigned a guard 24/7. He should be safe."
"You know what your problem is Jack?" Goldstein exclaimed. "Compromise isn't part of your vocabulary!"
"What you call 'compromise', I call selling-out!" McCoy declared. "I don't pursue prosecutions based on polling data."
Goldstein put on his trench coat. "You're playing a dangerous game, McCoy. If you keep stepping on toes in this town, someone's gonna turn right around and kick you in the ass. Look, I want to spare Lex further public humiliation. You, I'm sure, would prefer not to antagonize Luthor Corp. and their political allies. Let's deal. We'll settle for obstruction of justice. Lex does 200 hours of community service in Kansas, perhaps an anti- violence ad in New York for Bloomberg's anti-crime campaign ..."
"And Lex comes out smelling like a rose, while Mrs. Saunders loses whatever shred of hope she has left for some justice?" McCoy glared at Goldstein. "There will be no deals. Monday morning, I'll put the New York justice system to the test. No amount of under-handed influence-peddling will convince me that Lex should get off with a slap on the wrist!"
"Have some heart, Jack," Goldstein pleaded. "Do you hate Lionel Luthor so much that you're prepared to put his son behind bars for 25 to life?"
McCoy paused. "It's murder! What makes you think I'll settle for life in prison?"
"No!" Goldstein blocked McCoy's path. "You're not serious? The death penalty? Only one person has ever been sentenced to death since Governor Pataki reinstated capital punishment in '95. That case is still under consideration."
"The statute was in place when Saunders had her life taken from her," McCoy remarked. "The state's murder rate has fallen by 40 per cent since Pataki reinstated the death penalty. I'll see you in court."
Goldstein wanted to believe McCoy was just using the death penalty as leverage for an eventual out-of-court deal. But there was something in the prosecutor's voice. It was cold. Without compassion. He knew that Jack was a stubborn son-of-a-gun.
But his voice had such determination. Purpose. If McCoy got the conviction he wanted - guilty on first-degree murder - he would make the case for capital punishment. In a post-9/11 city still reeling from the aftershock, the jury would surely make an example of Lex, (an alleged mid-west dilettante, according to the tabloids, with an ego almost as large as his trust fund.)
Goldstein shuddered. Jack McCoy is on a self-appointed crusade to punish the Luthors. He would send them to hell and use that victory to jump to the Albany assembly. If the prosecution loses, the Luthors would surely destroy the careers of Jack's associates in the D.A.'s office and their collaborators in the NYPD. Jack wouldn't have time to pack his bags.
That settles it. We have to win. Or lose everything.
"Lana, this is Assistant D.A. Serena Southerlyn," Munch nodded towards the counselor.
"Nice to meet you," Lana shook her hand.
"I realize things have been tense over the past few days," Southerlyn explained, "but speed is of the essence in this investigation. As you know, Luthor Corp. is using all of its resources to delay and stall the trial."
"I just can't believe Lex would have anything to do with that killing," Lana said. "Another double espresso?"
"Yes, please." Southerlyn looked around. "John, you mentioned that Lex runs a fertilizer plant in town."
"That's the story," Munch sipped on his black coffee. "Apparently, he turned down an opportunity to work at Luthor Corp. HQ to remain in Smallville."
Southerlyn seemed puzzled. "Hmm, that doesn't sound like someone angling for a corporate takeover."
"Maybe so," Tutuola remarked. "but I just got this bad vibe about the Luthors. Both father and son."
"Why the haste to get to Kansas, Ms. Southerlyn?" Munch asked. "We had the state troopers deliver the affidavits to Topeka overnight. We were about to deliver the seized evidence from Kent and Sullivan this morning."
"We can go to Metropolis this afternoon," Southerlyn sipped her espresso. "Great coffee, by the way, Lana. Actually, do you happen to know where Clark Kent is now?"
"He has homeroom around 9:10," Lana checked the wall clock. "About 20 minutes from now."
"John, Fin . have another cup of coffee," Southerlyn placed a $10 bill on the table, "I need to talk to Clark right away."
"I hope it's not serious. I could come along?" Lana inquired. "Christine can watch the Talon for a bit."
"You might as well know, Lana, because you're going to find out anyway," Southerlyn replied. "I'm going to subpoena your friend to testify - in New York."
"The plot thickens," Munch remarked.
[Smallville High, Friday November 29]
Southerlyn and Lana pulled into the school parking lot.
"Whoa, who's that blonde with Lana?" Pete answered.
Lana pointed towards Clark. "There he is, Ms. Southerlyn."
Clark walked towards them. "Hi Lana."
"Clark, this is -" Lana began.
Southerlyn extended her hand. "-Assistant D.A. Southerlyn. I've heard much about you, Mr. Kent." She presented him with an envelope.
Clark read the document. "'. New York District Attorney's office . ordered to testify . to present material evidence pertaining to Lex Luthor . ' This is a subpoena?"
"I wish we could have had you submit an affidavit so you wouldn't have to disrupt your classes," Southerlyn stated, "but you're Lex Luthor's best friend. The D.A.'s office intend to put you on the stand. I'm sorry."
Clark was stunned. "Do I have to go to New York right away?"
"Depending on how long the trial goes," Southerlyn replied, "we will need to summon you sometime next week or the week after. And I'm afraid you have no choice."
"I am NOT going to tell the jury that I think Lex is guilty, because he's not. He can't be!" Clark shook his head in disbelief.
"You'll be under oath, so you'll have to tell them the truth . or risk contempt of court charges," Southerlyn explained. She checked her watch. "I'm afraid I've got to run. I have one more errand to do."
"In Smallville?" Lana wondered.
"The Luthor Estate," Southerlyn answered.
[Luthor Estate, Friday November 29]
Southerlyn rang the doorbell.
The butler answered. "Mr. Luthor has been expecting you."
Southerlyn gasped at the opulence of the main foyer. Ancient statues, artifacts and tapestries.
"You're from the D.A.'s office?" Lionel inquired from his seat near the fireplace. "Let me guess, you're here to deliver a subpoena demanding my presence before that Star Chamber you call a court of justice?"
"How did you --?" Southerlyn was surprised.
"Lex's legal team suspected you might try such a stunt," Lionel replied. "On the table over there, my counsel have the necessary papers. You would call it a 'motion to dismiss' that so-called subpoena."
"On what grounds?" Southerlyn demanded.
"My doctors, therapists and care-givers feel that the trip to New York and the subsequent trial would place my health in danger," Lionel recited, "and that a subpoena forcing me to testify about those ridiculous allegations regarding those chemical shipments . well, it would be cruel and unusual punishment. You might appeal. I'm quite prepared to fight it all the way to the Supreme Court. I have friends in the capital. Do you, counselor?"
"Is that a threat, Mr. Luthor?" Southerlyn declared.
"It's a word of advice," Lionel replied. "I consider Arthur Branch a fair and just man. That's why I supported his bid for the D.A.'s office. Jack McCoy is a self-righteous prick. If you have any ambition in you, Ms. .?"
"Southerlyn." she stated. "and D.A. McCoy has an enviable record - by any standard."
"Hitch your wagon to a winner, Ms. Southerlyn," Lionel turned away from her voice. "If there's nothing further, I have physiotherapy in 15 minutes."
I'm one-for-two, Southerlyn grumbled as she returned to Smallville. Clark has his subpoena. Lionel effectively rejected his.
Cragen was right, she feared. If McCoy misread his chances in this trial, Luthor will pull every lever, push every button - to punish those who dared to tarnish him.
Which is why I need to get to Metropolis to go over that computer evidence and build an airtight case.
[Major Case Squad, One Police Plaza, Friday November 29]
"Good morning Captain Deakins," van Buren smiled. "You mentioned that you've come across something of interest to the Luthor investigation?"
"Detective Goren has been sifting through endless phone records," Deakins replied, "He was trying to find a pattern ... something to connect to mob to money laundering. It's a slow process, but I think we've come across some interesting calls."
They opened the meeting room, and found Goren playing SOCOM: Navy Seals on a Playstation 2.
Goren leaped to his feet. "Captain! Lieutenant van Buren ... hey there.I was just doing some field research."
Deakins seemed amused. "If you're not too busy, detective, would you care to explain what you discovered this morning?"
Goren held up his hand. "Just a sec." He dashed down the corridor. When he returned, he had one of the knives retrieved from the warehouse raid.
"This, Lieutenant, is no ordinary knife," Goren began, as he carefully examined its hilt and blade. "It's made by a manufacturer in Michigan, an exclusive supplier to the U.S. Army."
"That's what Detective Green noticed," van Buren nodded, "He said they were likely stolen."
"There's more," Goren continued. "I noticed plenty of activity in the phone records between Luthor Corp. and Fort Hood, the largest Army base in the country. I didn't think much of it at first. The Luthors are major suppliers for the Pentagon. Which brings me back to the knives." He studied the hilt carefully.
van Buren waited. "And?"
"The knife is not standard issue for regular infantry ... but it IS standard equipment for U.S. Special Forces. Specifically, the U.S. Army Rangers. Considering that the mob intended to market these stolen weapons to criminal elements in the Colombian underworld - the cartels, right-wing paramilitaries, etc. - and the ease in which these gangsters had access to these weapons ..."
"You're thinking that Luthor's been doing some freelance merchandising ... right under the noses of the Pentagon," van Buren added.
"But Luthor needed someone on the 'inside'," Goren explained, "someone who had access, the ability to conceal the theft ..."
"Goren thinks there must be an Army Ranger out there in Fort Hood collaborating with Luthor's people," Deakins stated. "If he's not actively involved in the theft, he may be providing information or contacts to Luthor."
"He?" van Buren interrupted. "Or they?"
"Maybe. If it's an enlisted soldier involved in the theft, the most that we can do is inform the Judge Advocate General of our suspicions," Deakins stated. "It's for the military police to pursue. Maybe we'll have the FBI make some inquiries around Capitol Hill."
"Unless -," van Buren examined the knife. "- the perp is some AWOL, Rambo- type. A freelancer-for-hire."
"You mean, like, the A-Team? Mercenaries?" Goren suggested.
"Maybe," van Buren replied. "Except without Mr. T and the mohawk hair-do. Have these knives and weapons been checked by the CSU?"
"They're running any prints against NYPD and federal databases," Goren answered. "We'll ask the JAG office in New York for their help on any AWOLs."
"This is good stuff!" van Buren exclaimed. "The D.A. will love it ... if it pans out. And the connection to the Playstation game, Robert?"
Goren grinned sheepishly. "That's SOCOM: Navy Seals. You see, you get to be part of this SEAL team. They give you a mission ... and you gotta take out the bad guys before they get you. I'm trying to get to the next level ...I just got into this gung-ho, GI Joe mood after all that research about the special forces. It's soo cool!"
van Buren chuckled. "So you just decided to buy yourself a video game for inspiration?"
Goren shook his head vigorously. "At $60 a pop? No way! Blockbuster rental. I gotta get to level three by Sunday."
"Does he even do any work around here?" van Buren joked with Deakins.
Deakins grinned. "Good job, Detective Goren."
The sounds of loud explosions and gunfire echoed throughout the office. As Goren played the game, he smiled.
Lionel Luthor hasn't given up his arms trading, he thought. Why should he? The fall of the Berlin Wall opened up many opportunities for soldiers of fortune - no longer bound by the rules of the Cold War.
[Infirmary, Sing Sing Correctional Facility, Friday November 29]
McCoy peered through the ward room window. "A bruised rib, eh? He'll live."
"I'm moving to have Lex transferred to a medium-level institution," Goldstein argued. "This should be proof enough of the imminent danger to Lex's well-being."
"Lex Luthor is charged with first-degree murder," McCoy declared. "He stays in Sing Sing until the trial. I don't care if he is friends with Mayor Bloomberg. I've talked to the warden. Lex will be assigned a guard 24/7. He should be safe."
"You know what your problem is Jack?" Goldstein exclaimed. "Compromise isn't part of your vocabulary!"
"What you call 'compromise', I call selling-out!" McCoy declared. "I don't pursue prosecutions based on polling data."
Goldstein put on his trench coat. "You're playing a dangerous game, McCoy. If you keep stepping on toes in this town, someone's gonna turn right around and kick you in the ass. Look, I want to spare Lex further public humiliation. You, I'm sure, would prefer not to antagonize Luthor Corp. and their political allies. Let's deal. We'll settle for obstruction of justice. Lex does 200 hours of community service in Kansas, perhaps an anti- violence ad in New York for Bloomberg's anti-crime campaign ..."
"And Lex comes out smelling like a rose, while Mrs. Saunders loses whatever shred of hope she has left for some justice?" McCoy glared at Goldstein. "There will be no deals. Monday morning, I'll put the New York justice system to the test. No amount of under-handed influence-peddling will convince me that Lex should get off with a slap on the wrist!"
"Have some heart, Jack," Goldstein pleaded. "Do you hate Lionel Luthor so much that you're prepared to put his son behind bars for 25 to life?"
McCoy paused. "It's murder! What makes you think I'll settle for life in prison?"
"No!" Goldstein blocked McCoy's path. "You're not serious? The death penalty? Only one person has ever been sentenced to death since Governor Pataki reinstated capital punishment in '95. That case is still under consideration."
"The statute was in place when Saunders had her life taken from her," McCoy remarked. "The state's murder rate has fallen by 40 per cent since Pataki reinstated the death penalty. I'll see you in court."
Goldstein wanted to believe McCoy was just using the death penalty as leverage for an eventual out-of-court deal. But there was something in the prosecutor's voice. It was cold. Without compassion. He knew that Jack was a stubborn son-of-a-gun.
But his voice had such determination. Purpose. If McCoy got the conviction he wanted - guilty on first-degree murder - he would make the case for capital punishment. In a post-9/11 city still reeling from the aftershock, the jury would surely make an example of Lex, (an alleged mid-west dilettante, according to the tabloids, with an ego almost as large as his trust fund.)
Goldstein shuddered. Jack McCoy is on a self-appointed crusade to punish the Luthors. He would send them to hell and use that victory to jump to the Albany assembly. If the prosecution loses, the Luthors would surely destroy the careers of Jack's associates in the D.A.'s office and their collaborators in the NYPD. Jack wouldn't have time to pack his bags.
That settles it. We have to win. Or lose everything.