Chapter Thirteen
The Daily Planet - Online
May 31st 2014
5 Dead in Bakerline Inferno
Over 300 people were rescued from a 25-storey apartment building in the Bakerline district of Metropolis, last night. 15 people were declared dead at the scene and 48 were injured, including several fire fighters. A number of the injured are thought to have suffered life-threatening burns, and many others are suffering from smoke inhalation and minor burns.
The Fire Department are investigating and treating the incident as suspicious.
Story continues
Three Killed as $88 Million Stolen in Bank Heists
By Omar Assad, city desk
In four separate incidents across the city, three bank workers were shot and killed, as criminal gangs targeted four separate banks and stole a total of $88 million dollars.
Story continues
One Dead in Jewellery Store Robbery
A New Troy jewellery storeowner was found dead at the scene, last night, of what Police investigators believe to be a robbery gone wrong.
Story continues
Daily Planet Online – Regular Features
NEWS
SPORTS
COMMENT
CULTURE
BUSINESS
MONEY
LIFE STYLE
TRAVEL
ENVIRONMENT
BLOGS
Superman Still Missing
Day 2 and still no sign of The Man of Steel.
Where is Superman?
As the city's police department struggles to cope with an unprecedented number of emergency calls, the people of Metropolis continue to wonder what has become of their hero.
Has Superman abandoned us or is there some sinister force at work, acting to keep our fabled superhero at bay?
Where is Superman?
Tell us what you think - click the link to vote now
-8-
"What do you think?"
"Hmm," a deep voice purred thoughtfully over intermittent static.
Oliver Queen adjusted his earpiece, his head bent in concentration as he listened intently.
"Batman?" Oliver prompted over the scrambled Wi-Fi link.
"A little patience, Arrow," Bruce Wayne aka the Batman replied tersely. "Give me a few minutes to study the evidence here, okay?" he continued before abruptly cutting their communications link.
Oliver, Dinah Lance, A.C., Victor Stone and Bart Allen were all aboard the JLA team's ten seat, twin-engine, high speed jet aircraft; currently holding position at an altitude of 45,000 feet somewhere over the Arctic Circle.
Victor, wearing his silver Cyborg get-up, was piloting the plane. His ability to interface directly into the jet's computer systems made controlling the plane easier than sitting at a games console.
Oliver sat in the co-pilot's seat, sporting his leather Green Arrow uniform, monitoring their aerial position and checking ground sensor data and satellite information, which he could access directly from Queen Industries systems.
Dinah and Bart, like the rest of the team were dressed in the uniforms of their alter egos. They chatted quietly with each other as they reclined against the swivelling, leather passenger seats that occupied the spacious cabin.
Between bouts of grumbling he had "nothing to do" and nursing a large bottle of water, A.C. paced the cabin of the jet restlessly. "What a tool," he spat, shaking his head, as he wondered back to his seat.
"Yeah, maybe so, but we need that "tool" right now," Oliver called out in annoyance.
Oliver had called in Bruce Wayne's alter ego the Batman to help in the search for their missing friend, and to access Wayne Industries own satellite data for the day that Superman had disappeared. The two billionaires had compared imagery, and with Bruce's superior detective skills, he'd easily identified Superman's flight path into the Arctic.
"I still don't see why he had to fly out here separately," A.C. complained, walking back to the cockpit to stand in between the seated Oliver and Victor.
"The Batwing's a hell of a lot smaller than our jet," Victor supplied from the pilot's chair. "It's quicker and more manoeuvrable. See, our jet's undetectable at this height and speed, but the Batwing's exterior incorporates a type of radar-shielding, which responds to air pressure and temperature at any height, allowing it to fly and land virtually anywhere without military detection," Victor explained.
The enthusiasm of Victor's technical description left A.C. rolling his eyes.
"Besides, there's no way a jet like ours would be able to land undetected in the middle of Russian gas field," Oliver supplied.
Approaching the open cockpit Bart asked, "Can we really be sure this is where C.K. went down?"
"That's what we're hoping Bruce can confirm."
"It wasn't smart to let him go down there alone, Ollie," Dinah couldn't help pointing out as she crowded into the small cockpit with the rest of her teammates.
"Agreed, but we all know how Bruce plays it when he works with us: it's either his way or…." Oliver trailed off. It wasn't necessary for him to finish his sentence they all knew how it ended.
"Guy's a sociopath," Dinah spat out.
A.C. nodded in agreement and Bart chortled derisively.
"I don't think now's the time to be pointing out the obvious," Victor stated with a glance in Dinah's direction. "There's a bigger picture here; Clark's out there somewhere and he needs us--all of us."
"Victor's right," Oliver agreed. "The only thing we need to be focused on right now, is finding Big Blue. Anything else is secondary. Are we clear?" he demanded.
Three distinct voices answered in the affirmative.
"Good. Batman?" Oliver queried, reverting to hero-mode as he reopened the communications link. "You got anything?"
***
As tough, resilient and flexible as he'd made his Batman costume, it didn't stop the cold reaching his bones from his surroundings in the icy tundra. Not that he'd had the Arctic in mind when he'd last modified the suit. Something to think on he supposed.
Bruce was ignoring Oliver's call for the moment, focusing on the results he was reading from a palm-sized gadget that acted as a GPS and thermal tracker as well as a mineral and compound analyser.
He had landed his Batwing in a clearing and, using his GPS as a guide, had made his way on foot to what appeared to be a deserted gas field.
Searching and scanning the area he'd found evidence of a recently repaired gas safety valve, a section of pipe, and several lead-lined bunkers, large enough to fit three or four men in each. The snow on the ground around them and in the immediate area looked fresh. Too fresh when compared to the area he'd just jogged in from.
Using another sensor tool from his utility belt, Batman moved slowly, scanning the ground adjacent to the small bunkers. His device had pinged after several minutes, alerting him to something that didn't belong there. Getting down on his knees, he searched with gloved hands through the snow until the foreign object was within his grasp.
It was shaped like an animal dart, its tip coated in a green substance with a trace of red, possibly blood.
Bruce had scanned the lone dart with his device and had been waiting for the results.
"Batman? Batman, are you there?" Oliver's voice broke into the natural silence again.
Bruce took a moment to carefully study the results of his hand-held analyser.
Finally responding to Oliver he asked: "How many people know about Big Blue's aversion to the meteor rocks?"
"Outside of us and his family… I don't know--it should be a pretty short list. Why?"
"Well, by the looks of things, I'd say there's at least one too many on that list. I found a spent dart down here, one that had been loaded with a green meteor rock substance--the type that's poisonous to Kryptonians," Bruce reported.
"Jesus," breathed Oliver over the comm. "Did you find any tracks?"
"Hmm, well someone went to a lot of trouble to conceal evidence that anyone was ever here."
"So, we've got nothing?"
"I didn't say that."
"So, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that whoever took our friend had the resources to stage a ruptured gas leak, repair it, clear the area of virtually all evidence and fly an unconscious Superman out of this place. Undetected."
"Sh-it!"
"Yeah. We need to regroup and go over our satellite data again. It was easy enough to plot Big Blue's flight path in, and I believe I'll be able to extrapolate the flight path out of whoever took him," Bruce said, determinedly.
"Yeah. Let's do that."
"Head to the rendezvous point, I'll meet you there in under an hour," Batman instructed. "Oh, and Arrow?" Bruce added, deciding to give Ollie and the rest of his crew something else to ponder for a short while. "Nice speech to the team, by the way, about being focused? I couldn't agree more."
"Wha--?"
Bruce grinned at Oliver's obvious discomfort and shook his head. He listened as the rest of the team gave voice to their opinions.
"Goddamn Bruce and his gadgets."
"Should've known…."
"The son of a bitch has been listening to us the entire time?"
It wasn't much, but his slight distraction would take their thoughts away from the recent discovery that had rocked them all so thoroughly.
Clark Kent was in a lot of trouble; and the understatement of that thought chilled him far worse than standing in the middle of the Arctic tundra.
-8-
The news was full of it: his disappearance, his unknown status.
Billboards were dominated with opinionated headlines demanding his return, as others speculated on where he might be.
Superman's desertion, as some were calling it, had become the latest zeitgeist, street corner and water-cooler topic in the small town--and if you didn't have a view on the subject you weren't worth talking to, as Martha Kent had discovered while out shopping for groceries.
She'd spent most of the previous day at a lecture hall in Granville. Having been invited to speak to a local women's group about her experiences in Washington D. C. and the influence of women in politics, from her time representing Kansas as its State Senator, she hadn't seen much of the initial flurry of the "Superman is missing" stories.
Besides, Martha had schooled herself over the years, to not worry too much about him and to accept that her son's life was unique in ways that she could never fully understand or appreciate.
But even knowing all of the above, she could never stop those moments of panic or fear or uncertainty that gripped her, whenever she knew her only child was putting himself deliberately into harms way.
So, as the rumours of his disappearance had begun to surface, she'd tempered her instinctive unease and tried not to think about the awkward conversation she'd shared with Lois two mornings previous.
As hard as she'd tried to get on with her usual Saturday morning routine, it became increasingly difficult to ignore that there wasn't an aisle in the local supermarket that didn't have someone expounding a theory or an explanation on Superman's disappearance.
Every comment, every snide remark and joke had fuelled Martha's apprehension until she could no longer ignore what her heart had been telling her since she'd last spoken to her daughter-in-law.
Abandoning her half filled shopping cart in the home baking and sugar aisle, she'd rushed out of the local grocery store and quickly made her way to her car.
Stopping at a local service station for gas she made a quick call to an old friend and neighbour, to keep an eye on Shelby and the farm, before pulling out and onto the highway, headed for Metropolis.
***
The moment Lois opened the door to her Martha knew she'd made the right decision by arriving unannounced.
Lois's eyes had grown large with a mixture of shock, guilt and relief when she'd opened the door to Martha, the younger woman unable to speak or move.
The poor girl looked like the life had been drained from her. Lois's olive-green eyes, previously, always so bright and dancing with laughter were now dull and hooded with dark circles. Her face was drawn and there were deep worry lines around her mouth and her eyes.
Martha's heart broke to see it, and knew that her own would follow too, and quickly, if she didn't stay strong for her girl and boy.
"Oh, Lois," she breathed, her own voice choked with emotion at the sight of her daughter in distress. "Why didn't you tell me?" She didn't wait for a response, but took a step forward to breach the distance between them.
They embraced in the doorway of the apartment; the sob, "Mom," falling from Lois' throat as she fell into the older woman's arms.
Eventually, once their emotions had settled, they moved to the kitchen and Lois brewed camomile tea at Martha's suggestion. While they sat at the kitchen island sipping at the hot, calming liquid, Lois had haltingly begun to explain the circumstances behind Clark's disappearance and that she'd asked Oliver Queen and the JLA to help in the search for her husband.
"Have you heard from Oliver?" Lois shook her head, no.
Martha sucked in a breath and nodded.
"Have you been getting any rest?" she asked, already suspecting she knew the answer. The apartment was a mess, with note pads, pictures and articles strewn about the living space like makeshift, patchwork flooring.
"I can't," Lois replied. Indicating the mess with a wave of her hand. "I thought maybe trying to get some work done would help; you know, looking for clues? Anything. But I can't concentrate and I can't sleep for more than a few minutes at a time.
"Mom, I'm so sorry I didn't call you before… to tell you, but I thought I was being paranoid," Lois laughed bitterly, "and then I didn't call later, because I didn't want you to think it was serious. I'm so sorry," she said again, fighting back her tears.
"Oh, honey," Martha shook her head dismissively, moving to comfort the younger woman with a reassuring hug. "You did nothing to be sorry for. Clark's a strong man, now, and we'll find him. I know we will," she promised through fresh tears of her own.
Lois nodded vigorously at the promise. "Yeah," she agreed a little breathlessly, "we will."
Both women, taking strength from the other, laughed through their tears.
"Come on," Lois said, finally releasing her hold on Martha. "What do you say to helping me set up the guest room for you?" she suggested, a hint of her old bravado returning to her voice.
"I'd say that's a great idea."
Lois took Martha's hand in her own and led the older woman up the stairs. "I'm glad you're here," she admitted halfway up.
Martha squeezed her hand and nodded. "Me too."
-8-
… To be continued …
Don't forget to leave a little feedback; it helps to feed the muse.
Annie