Chapter 21: Springing The Trap
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At the end of the passageway, the Secret Service agents hustled us out of the carts and through another checkpoint. From there it was a quarter mile of corridors to our goal. Four more Secret Service agents in body armor with plasma rifles stood guard in front of the door. Hirst had a hurried conversation with the guards and then we were ushered inside. Two of our guards peeled off to join those outside. I averted my gaze from these men; there was nothing I could do for them.
The door swung open and I saw four more heavily armed Secret Service men surrounding a figure sitting at a huge, wooden desk, his head in his hands. The room, I saw, was a double for the Oval Office, except that unadorned concrete walls replaced the windows.
President Ross was an unprepossessing figure at the best of times; now, he seemed to have shrunk under his burdens. He had dark pouches under worried eyes and his skin had an unhealthy gray tinge to it. Then he looked up and his smile lit his face like the rising sun. He stood.
"Lana! I was wondering where you had gotten to!"
He stepped around the desk and hugged his wife. Then he saw the rest of us, huddled in a group just inside the doorway. He looked puzzled.
"Who are all these people?" Then recognition came. "Piotr, Harry, I was afraid you were dead. And Lois, what are you doing here?"
Lois burst into explanations, but I barely paid attention, now that my target was in sight. Sitting on the desk were a framed picture (of Ross' wife and son, I was sure), a blotter pad, a gold fountain pen (an affectation of Luthor's) and, on the corner of the desk, a nondescript ring box. Inside would be the ring. Luthor thought it was his kryptonite ring, but months ago Superman, Lois and I had replaced it with a fake. That was my goal.
The Secret Service agents had moved back to line the walls, giving the President and his guests space, but they were watching us – me, in particular – carefully. I inched away from the group and towards the ring box. Hirst speared me with a look, evidently still suspicious of me. I smiled and raised my hands disarmingly and took a step away from the President, and a little closer to the ring box.
I heard Connelly forget and call me "Batman". Hirst's eyes blazed and half the guns in the room were suddenly pointed my way. I cursed silently and froze. President Ross didn't notice any of it. He walked around and sat down at the desk, his eyes narrowed in perplexity.
"Let me see if I have it straight. Luthor isn't dead; he's a clone?"
"The Luthor shot in the Capitol was a clone, Love," Mrs. Ross answered softly, "and the Luthor lying in the hospital bed is a clone. The real Luthor is waiting until the Emergency Powers Act passes and then he will reappear and take control."
"Yes, yes, that's what I meant. And the JLA that attacked the Capitol wasn't the real JLA?"
"You know how surprised you were that Superman would behave like that?" Lana reminded him. "That wasn't the real Superman."
"But how do you know this? How can you be sure?"
Lois started talking rapidly, waving her hands as she explained. Ross waved her to silence and looked wearily at his wife.
"Do you believe them, Lana?"
Mrs. Ross took a deep breath and said, "Yes, love, I do."
Ross put his head in his hands again. I heard the door behind me swish open as he said, plaintively, "I don't know what to think."
Knowing it was now or never, I took a step forward and grabbed the ring box off the desk as a familiar, mocking voice behind me said, "Of course not. I haven't told you what to think yet."
Not one of the Secret Service agents even glanced at me. Their attention, and weapons, were all focused on the doorway, but no one fired. I turned and saw, standing in the doorway, Lex Luthor wearing a bathrobe. Hope and Mercy flanked him, their guns pointed at President Ross. Mercy was wearing a headset. Behind stood two men. I recognized one as Dr. Moon. The other wore a trench coat with the collar turned up and a hat pulled forward, leaving his face in shadow. His stance, confident with power but without the balance of a martial artist, screamed meta. Beyond were the crumpled bodies of the agents who had guarded the door. They had not even lived long enough to give a warning.
"Now, now," Luthor purred softly, "let's nobody do anything rash. Remember, I am the President. You have served your purpose, Pete, but I'm back now, so you can slink back to the shadows where you belong."
"Not according to the constitution," I remarked. "Under the 21st (?) Amendment, you cannot reclaim your position until you have sent notice in writing to both the President Pro Tem of the Senate and the Speaker of the House."
Luthor turned to look at me and, after a moment, I could see recognition click into place. He looked at the ring box in my hand.
"Come back to try a second time, Batman? Yes, I know who you are. Did you think I would fall for your trick? If you wanted me to believe you were one of those men you planted evidence on, you shouldn't have included Bruce Wayne in the group. I've met that brainless fop: he couldn't possibly be you. Put the ring down, Batman."
I flipped open the box and glanced at the ring, then set it down on the desk with the open side facing Luthor. The trap was sprung; now we would see who had caught whom. I smiled and bit down hard on the fake crown.
Author's Notes: Batman, Superman and Lois Lane recovered the kryptonite ring from the White House in the story, "The Ring", in Detective # 756 and Superman #168.