18 Months Later

The old castle was beautiful, with its pointed spires, battlements, and arches. Lois Lane would have appreciated more if she wasn't being held at gunpoint.

I guess I should have listened to Perry, she thought, glancing at the two soldiers on either side of her. Her editor had pleaded with her to leave Markovia as fighting between the rebels and the government intensified in the northern part of the capital. But she had to check out the rumors of the mass graves in outside Markovburg. And it paid off. With the help of some rebels and their supporters, they uncovered two hundred bodies. Their bloated forms, covered with dirt and bullet holes, still made her stomach lurch. But she got the story out, and the world knew about the slaughter committed by the government.

A shiver went up and down her body. She wondered if that story would cost her her life.

The arched, wooden door in front of her opened. Four Markovian soldiers, clad in slate gray fatigues, marched into the courtyard. In the center of the group was a burly man with a craggy face and brown hair that fell to his shoulders. His face seemed frozen in a permanent scowl.

Lois stiffened her jaw, trying not to show any fear, as Baron Bedlam approached.

Her gaze fell to the rifles carried by the dictator's bodyguards. Her throat clenched and her legs trembled. Would they just shoot her right here?

Bedlam stomped to a halt inches from her. Lois drew a deep breath, making sure to stare him in the eye.

Bedlam's hand flashed out. Pain exploded across Lois's face. She stumbled, fighting to remain on her feet. She succeeded, rubbing her stinging cheek.

"Do you really think your story will change anything?" he asked in a deep menacing voice, his accent thick. "Do you expect America or NATO or the UN to come here? Do you think any of them care what happens here?"

"They do now," Lois replied.

Bedlam responded with a grunting laugh. "Perhaps. But I know democracies. Your leaders will talk and express outrage and say on TV they will not rest until I am out of power. They will say this for months, years, and never act. I will remain in power."

"From what I've seen from the rebels, I doubt it."

"They are scum. My forces will defeat them. However, you will not be here to see that, Miss Lane."

Her insides went cold. "Y-You're going to kill me?"

"Kill you?" Bedlam laughed. "That would be too quick, and not profitable to me."

Lois furrowed her brow, confused.

"A famous American reporter, I should be able to fetch six figures for you sex slave."

Lois froze, her stomach burning. She clenched her teeth to keep from throwing up at the thought of strange men forcing her to . . .

Her cheeks puffed out. Oh God, she was going to be sick.

Smiling, Bedlam jerked his head. Two of his soldiers grabbed Lois's arms.

"No." She pulled against their grip, struggling to break free. "No!"

Her boots scuffed the brick courtyard as they dragged her away.

A deep boom rumbled through the air. Lois gasped, her fear dissolving.

"No." Baron Bedlam stared at the sky, eyes wide, fear blazing across his face.

Lois followed the dictator's gaze. She smiled when she saw the dark blue suit and red cape.

Superman landed in the courtyard, the bricks cratering under his feet. Two soldiers fired their rifles. Superman just stood there, not flinching as bullets pounded his torso. Red beams shot from his eyes. The rifles glowed. Both soldiers yelped and threw them away.

In a blue flash, Superman was in front of the soldiers. He grabbed both by their collars and flung them over his shoulder. They tumbled across the courtyard and lay on the ground, moaning.

Someone grabbed Lois's hair. She gasped as they yanked her backwards. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Bedlam, her hair in one hand, a pistol in the other.

Superman batted away the other soldiers and focused on Baron Bedlam. Lois's heart slammed against her chest as the dictator pulled her against him. The barrel of the gun brushed against her hair.

"Not another step," warned Bedlam. "I don't think you are fast enough to -"

A sharp wind whipped around Lois. Superman stood in front of her, clutching Bedlam's gunhand, now pointed to the sky.

"Actually, I am fast enough to . . ."

Lois slid away from Bedlam. The dictator took quick, fearful breaths.

Superman slightly flexed his hand. Bedlam screamed, the pistol falling from his grip. He spun away, grasping his wrist. "You broke my hand!"

"After everything you've done, you deserve a lot more than that." Superman grasped Bedlam's shoulder and whirled him around. He gripped the Markovian by the collar.

"Don't kill me." Bedlam's voice cracked. "Please don't kill me."

Superman's eyes narrowed. His lips formed a tight line. Lois's eyes flickered between him and Bedlam. Dread slithered through her. Would he do it? Part of her felt Baron Bedlam deserved it. How many of his own citizens had he murdered? It wouldn't be the first time Clark had killed. But it had been different with Zod. The crazed general was inches away from murdering an innocent family. Here, it would be cold-blooded murder.

Could he . . .

Would he . . .

"Whatever happens to you, won't be up to me," said Superman. "It'll be up to the International Criminal Court." He turned to Lois. "You all right?"

"Yeah." She hurried over to him.

He gave her a brief smile before wrapping an arm around her. "Better hold on. Next stop, the Hague."

Lois put her arms around him, leaning into Superman's shoulder. She closed her eyes and sighed, feeling safe. Safe and satisfied. With her story and Clark's powers, they had brought the bloody reign of a madman to an end.

XXXXX

Alexander "Lex" Luthor shifted in his leather swivel chair, crossing and uncrossing his feet under the desk. He didn't like what he watched on his laptop, didn't like it one bit.

CNN showed footage of Superman flying away from Castle DeLamb in Markovia, with the small European nation's leader in hand.

Just swooped in, grabbed him, and carted him off to the Hague. No way to stop him.

He steepled his fingers under his chins, breaths coming quickly. Baron Bedlam wasn't some common street thug, or an uncommon one like those in Gotham City or Central City. The man was a world leader. And Superman removed him from power as easily as his servants removed lint from his suits.

He exited the site and brought up one of his secure files. He gazed at the news stories he'd saved over the past few years.

MYSTERIOUS QUESTION EXPOSES GOVERNOR'S CRIMINAL PAST

ATOM STOPS PANTHER GANG'S CRIME SPREE

GOTHAM BAT BRINGS DOWN CORRUPT CEO DAGGETT

Again, Luthor shifted in his chair. These costumed freaks were growing in number, their exploits becoming bolder. His gaze lingered on the story about Roland Daggett. He'd been one of the most powerful men in Gotham, controlling Daggett Industries. Now he sat in a cell in Blackgate Penitentiary.

What would happen if Batman set his sights on him? Well, that was one reason he hired only the best for his security detail. Former Green Berets, British SAS, Russian Federal Security Service, German GSG9. Despite his legendary status, the Batman was only a man. He couldn't survive a hail of bullets.

Superman, however, could probably survive a small nuke.

He snatched his cell phone and called his assistant Mercy Graves. "Set up meetings with Senators Finch and Barrows, separately as usual."

"Is this about Zod's body and the Kryptonian ship again?"

"Of course."

"And those green rocks at the CDC?"

"Again, of course."

"And do you think you'll be able to change their minds this time?" Mercy asked in her usual cool voice.

"I wouldn't ask you to schedule the meetings if I didn't think so, so schedule them."

"Yes, Mister Luthor."

He tossed the phone onto his desk and slumped in his chair. The green rocks. He'd learned from an inside source that the tiny fragments had harmful effects on the cells extracted from General Zod's frozen body. They could be the key to neutralizing Superman. Unfortunately, he needed a lot more of this Kryptonite, as he liked to call it, to turn it into an effective weapon.

As for Zod's body, well, even an alien as dead as William Shakespeare could still be useful.

He found it hard to concentrate on business throughout the day. Superman flying away with Baron Bedlam dominated his mind. During meetings with the managers of his R&D division and the executives of his European office, he had to constantly ask them to repeat questions or statements. He'd even zoned out during lunch with his main Washington lobbyist.

Oh shit. What about all the tech I sold to Markovia? LexCorp had sold networking software to the country, before and after the U.S. embargo. Many of those programs had been used to crackdown on political dissidents. Would that prompt Superman to come after him?

So what if it comes out? I just say that some third party stole it and sold it to the Markovians.

Luthor swallowed. That might work with the U.S. legal system, not with a damn alien who snatched people out of their homes because he could.

He flopped into the back of his limo, not saying a word as Mercy drove him back to LexCorp Tower. His cell rang. Luthor waited three rings before answering it, not bothering to check the caller ID. "What?"

"Mister Luthor, it is Anatoli."

He straightened in his seat. "Anatoli, I am having a real shitty day, so you better have good news."

"I do. My men found a fragment. A large one. Nine kilos at least."

Luthor sighed. "I'm American. I don't speak metric."

Now Anatoli sighed. "My apologies." His tone indicated he was not truly sorry. "Twenty pounds."

For the first time today, Lex Luthor smiled.

TO BE CONTINUED