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LEADERS,
LEGENDS AND LORE
Page 2
July 30
Lionel was sitting at the breakfast table, listening to his
grandsons and ‘great niece’ chat about their adventures last night.
Martha and Anne were making breakfast, having told the cook to take
the morning off. Jonathan sat down near Lionel and saw the headlines
on the paper he was holding. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Jon
sighed. “Has Lex seen this?”
Lionel sipped his coffee before responding. “Not that I am aware
of, but he will.” The trio walked in looking refreshed. “And it will
not be a welcome wake up, either.”
Lex was immediately accosted by two of his sons, one of whom
ended up in his arms, but that didn't prevent him from noticing
Lionel and Jonathan whispering. He could tell something was wrong.
Cocking an eyebrow, Lex asked, “What? Spill it. What's going
on?”
Lionel turned the paper so that he could see the headline:
Luthor Leaves Minerva to Pursue Agenda in Senate
Lex reached for the paper, scanning Lois Lane's account of the
inextricably-bound press conference and his surprise announcement at
the Gala. The next article was a profile of the Luthor family, and a
final piece on the front page referred to other articles in the
paper. The front page of the business section had a biography of
Tristan that detailed his career -- or rather, the portion of it
that was public knowledge. The paper's crowning achievement, though,
was an Op Ed piece that sermonized on the dangers of too much wealth
controlling too much power without mentioning the words Lex or
Luthor even once. The implication, however, was crystal clear.
With Ben in his arms, Lex controlled his response carefully.
“Have to love the Daily Planet.” Lex deposited Ben in a chair and
began to read the articles more closely. Lex found his chair by
instinct alone, and was completely aware of Whitney placing a plate
of toast and fresh fruit in front of him. “Thank you.”
Whitney smiled at him. “Not a problem. Is the front page article
by Lois Lane?"
Lex nodded. "Yes."
"She's a very driven woman from what I was able to gather. Chris
said she never made a scene and was devilishly subtle about it, but
she made at least one attempt to go through every door leading in
and out of the public rooms."
"She kept security on its collective toes, but I don't think she
ever caught on that Chris had people subtly deflecting her every
time she tried to get to Lex," Clark commented as he settled in with
a plate he'd filled at the buffet on the sideboard. In the blink of
an eye, Ben was in his lap, scavenging a piece of sausage. “Hey! I
was going to eat that.”
Ben smiled at his Poppy. “I’ll have Nana get you another one.”
Ben scampered down and hugged on Anne and Martha, then made a
beeline for an empty chair by Elsa and Hamilton.
Clark rolled his eyes and rejoined the other conversation. “Ms.
Lane also had a few chats with people--” Clark sipped his coffee.
“--including Armitage.” In a moment, his mother handed him a small
plate with a few sausages to replace the one that Ben had swiped.
Whitney groaned and looked at Lionel. “Has Armitage always been
such a…a...”
“Snake?” Lionel offered. “No, but he has his masters. He also has
his wealth and the insurance company he helped build. He is very
well connected.”
Still buried in the paper, Lex studied a photo array from the
night before. “Sebastian Shaw was talking to Bruce. That had to be
fun. Hmmm... I never saw Oliver Queen. Nice to know he showed.”
Clark watched as Anne and his mom sat down and ate next to the
kids. It never ceased to amaze him how close his family was. The
boys loved their grandparents. He turned to his dad. “What are you
doing today?”
Jon chuckled. “The lovely Elsa has asked
Lionel and I to take her riding. As, and I quote, ‘My horse is here
and I never get to ride much.’ Then I think I need to look over some
of the Praetorian's and Royals' income statements. Thankfully, the
Royals are winning and that means a nice full baseball stadium.”
Before Jonathan could finish, Philip walked up to him.
“Excuse me, Grandpa. Can we go to a baseball
game soon?”
Lex smothered a smile and glanced from
Jonathan to Lionel. “Philip, I think your grandfathers would be
delighted to take you and your brothers to a game soon.” Lex could
not cover his smile at the simultaneous death rays Jon and Lionel
shot him.
Whitney did laugh, but moved to change the
subject. “Lex, about the news... What are you going to do?"
Lex sobered. “Nothing I can do until Lisa
tells me how to move the media campaign. And I still have to file.”
Washington
“What the Hell does this mean?!” demanded
Sen. Jacob Fromm. He had arrived in his office this morning to find
that the Washington Post, New York
Times, and Wall Street Journal
that all had articles about Minerva’s change in leadership and Lex
Luthor’s decision to run for the Senate. Each one cited Luthor as
having accused him of lacking insight and leadership ability.
Jacob was in his mid-forties, had ties to the
conservative wing of the Kansas Party, and had known Governor Ken
Longworthy for most of his adult life. He was a rank and file worker
bee, picked for his connections in the state and around the country.
Everyone --including Jacob-- considered his election to the
long-held Republican Senate seat a done deal. Luthor's announcement
changed everything.
The immediate problem was the lack of
financial power to fight a Luthor in the state. He looked around the
staff that he had inherited from the late Sen. Voss. “I am going to
need Dick Simons, ASAP.”
Sen. Fromm’s Chief of Staff handed him a
paper. “It would appear that The Daily
Planet was less than impressed.”
Jacob read the articles but found them to be
even-handed at best. “At least they downplayed his attack on me.” He
was concerned about the politics and how it would play. He had a
minor war chest. Longworthy was running again, but that might not
help. Metropolis now accounted for more than half of all votes cast
in Kansas. The current Mayor was a Democrat and very popular among
his constituency. “Find out what the Governor thinks. I need to
launch a defense of the seat before Luthor gets traction.”
Topeka
Gov. Longworthy read the accounts from
papers about the Gala, still smarting from the lack of invitation.
‘Of course Luthor would snub me. I don’t
belong to his father’s old network of cronies and sycophants. Hell,
he is a crafty asshole. This could get messy.’
The Governor picked up his phone and called
the state party chair to demand that he make an appearance for
lunch. “Hell yes, it's about Luthor," he barked into the phone.
"Nobody has the money to take that son-of-a-bitch head on."
"Which ticket?" the chair asked.
"It looks like he will be running as a damn
Democrat, which gives us time. If he was running as a Republican,
the President would tell us to shut up and let him run. Luthor money
poured into the Pesticide Ban campaign. He's an environmentalist.
Come down here and we will talk. This changes everything!”
He slammed down the phone and walked over to
his office window. Below him, a gardener was trimming hedges around
the state house lawn. Everything down there was peaceful and green,
a far cry from the panic what was undoubtedly gripping Washington at
this moment. A Luthor in the Halls of Power was not something that
had been expected. Worse, he was actually popular in some circles.
“DAMN!”
Longworthy caught sight of the reflection of
his chief of staff and turned, hoping beyond hope that the man was
coming to give him good news. He could use some about now.
Smallville
Whitney followed Clark to his research
office. They had yet to talk, and Whitney knew Clark was hiding
something. He waited for Clark to sit down. “Okay, my love, tell
me.”
Clark looked down, worrying his thumbnail.
“Whitney…I can’t do this anymore. The world is falling apart in ways
that the people of this planet can't even imagine, but I can change
things. I can make a difference. I have to take an active role.”
Clark hung his head, then leaned lightly into the hand that caressed
his cheek.
Whitney sat on the arm of Clark's chair and
bent to kiss him. “I know love, I know. But we can’t take that risk
just yet.” Clark pulled back, but Whitney reached out to keep him
close. “Listen Clark, I agree that you can do more, but Lex is now
in the public. We have to be careful.”
Clark leaned over and hugged Whitney. “So
much is happening right now. To simply wait is the worst
option.”
“No, to be rash is the worst option.
Anti-mutant sentiments are growing stronger. Senator Kelly and his
allies’ voices grow louder. I am with you my love, so is Lex, but we
can’t win that battle yet. Lionel and your father are the ones who
don’t want you to expose yourself. The others follow that
lead.”
Clark sighed. “I am tired of the same old
arguments.”
Whitney stood and pulled Clark into a full
body hug, kissing him again before he told him, “Look, Lex is going
to be very out in the open. We have to be careful, but I think you
can do more of what you have been doing.”
Clark blushed fiercely. “You knew?”
Whit laughed and kissed Clark again, slowly
and deeply. “Of course. Lex and I both know. You do what you can and
we support that." Whitney grinned. "Well, we support it to the
extent that we can hide it from the others.”
Clark smiled for the first time. “Now we
have competing forces -- Lex’s desire to save the country and my
desire to save the world. What are you going to save?”
Whitney grinned. “Our children from being
spoiled by their grandparents."
“Far too late to worry about that!” Clark
said with a laugh as Whitney disappeared out the door.
Jeff was in his office looking over the
House accounts when Lex walked in without knocking and sat down.
“Hello, Lex.”
“Jeff. I need to create a political action
committee and also a campaign treasury.”
Jeff opened a desk drawer and handed Lex two
files. “The top one has all the documents we need to form the
treasury--it just needs your signature and a few details filled in.
The other one has your filing papers for the Federal Election
Commission.”
Lex chuckled as he flipped through a few
pages. “Am I so predictable?”
Jeff laughed as he leaned back in his chair
and propped his feet on his desk. “I am your lead attorney and one
of your closest advisors. It's my job to anticipate these things.
Besides Whitney clued me in three weeks ago that you were restless
and looking for a new challenge. Plus Tristan and Lionel have been
discussing the LFK proxy issue with me.”
Lex groaned. “I should have known Whitney
would say something. I sometimes forget that my lover is also your
brother. Is anything safe from your knowledge?”
Jeff laughed again. “Yes, but I can guess a
lot of it.”
Lex picked up on the mischievousness behind
that leer. “You are incorrigible. Now I know where Ben gets it
from.”
Jeff chuckled. “Not me! Ben gets it from you
three.” His tone changed and he straightened. “How much are you
willing to spend?”
Lex looked at the figures Jeff had been
reviewing. “No more than $30 million. That is $5 a person in the
state.”
Jeff nodded and made a few notes. “I’ll get
moving on that. You need to get a staff in place.” Jeff fixed Lex
with a stern gaze. “Not me either. Too much on my plate right now.
Maybe Lisa would like to do it. She has free time on her hands.”
Metropolis
Lois's nose was only inches from her
computer screen as she reviewed her notes for follow up leads, the
most promising being Brian Armitage. VR software and a nifty story
editing program had transformed her voice tapes into digital note
cards that she was busily organizing into a master sequence. A body
materialized over the top of her monitor groaned when she followed
the torso up to find Jimmy Olsen. “What do you want Olsen?”
“You're going to be really unattractive in
glasses," he offered tonelessly.
Lois gritted her teeth. "What do you--"
Jimmy ignored the overtly unfriendly tone
and handed her a file and a CD. "These are hard copies of some of
the pictures and the corresponding images on disc. I am having the
third and fourth chips processed right now.” He turned and left
without waiting for a reply.
Lois began thumbing through the photos,
noting that Jimmy had not included a single shot of any of the
rooms, only of the people. She rifled through her files, found the
guest list, and began matching names with faces. ‘Bruce said to look at who was talking to whom,
so I will look. I know there are stories here, but focus on the big
picture Lane. Focus on the Luthors.’
Opening the CD, she began to organize a
storyboard. The pictures had time stamps that could be edited out
for the paper, but they were enormously helpful in allowing her to
add cross-referenced images to her digital note-cards, all in an
effort to give her the context of the conversations that she
observed first hand. She was going to find the real story here, no
matter how deep she had to dig. 'The
Pulitzer will make it all worth it.’ Smallville
When Lionel determined that there were not
enough pieces to re-create the palace in Lego-miniature, Ben and Wes
were disappointed but undaunted. They began redesigning the existing
structure and built until every last Lego at their disposal had been
pressed into service.
Wallowing in their sense of accomplishment
they ran off to ask if they could go swimming, but Philip remained
behind, studying his brothers' workmanship and ingenuity. He didn't
feel like swimming; instead, he wanted to spend time on his computer
and see if his recent moves on the ‘mini-market’ were paying off
yet. He had just made it into his room when one of the dogs began
prodding him lightly in the back with her cold, wet nose. “Duchess!
No. Go bother Wes or Ben, I’m busy.”
In his room next door, Hamilton was
repeating the same thing to Mohiam. “Go downstairs, Mohiam. Elsa and
I are busy. No, we don’t want to play.”
Rachel was just passing the boys' rooms
headed for the playroom when she saw both dogs trot purposefully
into the hall and head directly to the stairs, just as they had been
told. ‘What in the world?!’ she
thought, fascinated that the dogs could be controlled with such
ease. She stepped to Philip's door and found him booting up his
computer. She rapped lightly on the facing.
"Hello, Miss Rachel."
“Good afternoon, Philip. Tell me something.
Are the dogs always that well behaved?”
Philip looked up at her thoughtfully. “Um, I
think so, except if we tell one of them to do opposite things when
we are fighting," he confessed. "Then Daddy, Papa, or Poppy will get
mad at us. We don’t do that much anymore.”
Rachel stared at him for a moment.
"May I help you with something?" Philip
offered when she didn't move.
"Uh, no. Thank you. I heard that the castle
had been completed and wanted to see the results."
"It's in the playroom," he said helpfully,
then began opening his stock portfolio. He wanted to make his
Grandpa Lionel proud, and his parents, as well.
Rachel moved on to the playroom, still
digesting this new piece of the jumbled-up jigsaw she'd landed in.
Four children with three fathers and no biological mother living
under the same palatial roof with three sets of beaming
grandparents. That was odd enough, but then there was the riddle of
Poppy, Daddy, and Papa... Two of the "fathers" were almost certainly
a couple, but which two? Rachel had more or less assumed that
Whitney Fordman and Lex Luthor were together, but how did Clark Kent
fit into the equation? Very little of anything was making sense to
Rachel yet.
Though she made it a point never to pry into
the private lives of her employers, she couldn't help but be
curious. And surely, a little curiosity couldn't hurt anything, as
long as it didn't harm the family tabbies.
Lisa settled into the chair opposite Lex and
smiled. “Well, I have the outline for you. Your campaign needs to
focus on your youth and experience. It's a powerful combination that
illustrates that you are open to new possibilities. So how do you
like, ‘Lex Luthor, Tomorrow’s Leader Today’?”
Lex stared at her for a moment. “Sounds
rather…trite.”
Lisa laughed and nodded her head. “Yes, but
it’s a campaign, not rocket science. We can refine some variations,
but we need something visible and memorable out there now. I can
only imagine the panic attacks that are going on in Topeka and
Washington. By the way, nice article by Lois Lane. Some Society
reporter she was.”
Lex leaned back. “The Planet likes to take a
rather harsh view of what I am up to. The fact that I own the
Inquisitor and have turned it into a legitimate rival means the
Planet plays an adversarial role. So, we start with radio?”
She nodded again. “We hit the Metropolis,
Wichita, and Topeka airwaves first. Manhattan and Lawrence are going
to be where we see if we can get some ground staff. College students
come cheap and both those campuses are loaded. We need a
budget.”
“Jeff and Mike Ross are taking care of that.
What I need right now is a campaign chair.”
Lisa smirked. “Not I. Why not Bill? He’s got
time on his hands at the moment.”
Lex shook his head for a moment. “No, can’t
be Bill, as much as I would like to use him. He still holds a seat
on Minerva and that sends the wrong signal.”
Lisa sighed and looked down at her notes.
“You need a Chair and a spokesperson. Like, yesterday. All your
opponents will be coming at you with both guns blazing, Lex. You do
not want to be standing still when
that happens."
“Okay, I’ll get moving and have a staff in
place by Monday. For now, I guess I will use LFK staff in town to
handle inquiries.”
Lisa cautioned, “Make sure all those
expenses are noted. This may be privately financed, but you
opponents will be looking for any means possible to use your money
against you.”
Lex chuckled. “Can't wait to see how my Republican opponents justify that. You're
a real optimist.”
Lisa laughed and stood up. “I’ve followed a
few campaigns of the wealthy. Jon Corzine and Michael Huffington
each had different results after spending millions on Senate races."
She sobered. "You realize that the family secret might not stay
secret for long.”
Lex grew angry. “I will not let Clark’s
secret be compromised.”
Lisa raised a hand to signal Lex to stop.
“No, your bedroom arrangements. Clark’s secret is not on my mind.
This could get ugly, Lex. How are you going to handle the ‘gay'
question?”
“There is little stigma attached to being
gay now, since more than a dozen professional athletes have come
out, not to mention the biggest star in Hollywood.”
Lisa laughed. “How can I forget? I suppose
you have the statistics on gay politicians, too?"
Lex sobered. “Three Governors and more than
a dozen House Members. Scores of local and state officials are out
in the open. Being 'outed' as a homosexual doesn't bother me.”
"Then why not pre-empt any possible scandal
and come out?"
"Because my private life is mine. And my
family's. It doesn't affect my ability to lead, and I'm going to
stand or fall on that principle."
“But the fact that there are three of
you...”
Lex nodded. “There are few scandals now when
it comes to sex. More than half of all elected officials are
divorced. But my situation is unique.”
“Then why risk it?”
Lex rubbed his head and looked out the
window. “There is so much that needs to be done, Lisa. But who out
there can claim to be independent? I can't be bought. If I make it
to Washington, I'll owe favors to no one. I think I can make a real
difference, and the people who love me are willing to risk much for
the future.”
Lisa rose and kissed Lex. “Yes, we are. You
have all our support. Just be careful. Many things can go
wrong.”
Lex watched her walk out. “I know.” Lex
whispered to the empty air.
Rachel was looking over the notes left by
the previous nanny/governess and found that her methods had not
suited the boys at all. Their Stanford-Binet IQ tests had them years
above their chronological ages. Hamilton’s math skills were
extraordinary and Philip’s weren’t far behind. Wes and Ben should
not be reading at the level that was noted, but it was confirmed in
multiple tests. ‘I am going to have my
hands full keeping them focused and challenged at the same
time.’
Looking over things she decided that she
needed to see exactly how advanced they were and what they did not
know. By all indications, the boys were already getting classical
musical education. She saw notes that Lionel Luthor liked to play
for the boys and that Philip was trying his hand at the piano. She
already had an inkling that Hamilton liked science and math. Ben and
Wes, while very smart, did not seem to have found a drive to apply
their formidable intellects yet. She decided that would be her job.
Philip had written a few short stories and he and Hamilton had built
a hologram. ’Simply amazing that they are
so advanced for being so young.’
It was going to take no effort to get the
boys to want to learn, but to maintain discipline was the major
challenge. She laughed when she saw the essays that the boys had
written in May: “What I Want To Be.” Philip wanted to be President,
Hamilton wanted to run S.T.A.R. Labs, Ben was waffling between being
an astronaut or a magician, and Wes wanted to play baseball or
football. ’Well boys, I will see what I can
do to get you on your way to your dreams. And possibly inspire some
new ones.’
When Whit walked into the Master bedroom,
Clark was already under the comforter reading a book and Lex was at
the desk looking over some papers. The kids were tucked securely in
their own beds, but it was inevitable that sometime during the
night, each set of twins would end up in the same bed.
“You two look relaxed.”
Clark smiled at Whitney and patted the bed
next to him. “I am very relaxed, though I would like some company.
Lex is still reviewing stuff.”
Lex pushed back from the desk, dropped his
robe, and slid into the bed while Whitney changed. “I told you that
I would come over once we were all ready.” He kissed Clark and held
one of his hands. “I love you.”
Clark smiled at Lex and pulled him closer.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Whitney slid into bed. “Come
here you.” He pulled Whit close and wrapped all of them in a hug.
“Some days are good by virtue of being together.”
Whitney kissed Lex and then Clark. “Yes.
Shall we snuggle and watch a mindless movie?” He felt their assent,
and all it took was a quick command into the nightstand touch pad
and an enormous flat-screen plasma TV rose out of a chest at the end
of the bed. The movie began automatically.
Clark burrowed into his pillows and settled
back with Lex and Whitney cuddled close.
July 31, Costa Rica
Damien was looking over the news and threw
his glass against the wall in disgust. "SHIT!" 'That son-of-a-bitch is going to run for the
Senate!' As much as Damien wanted to harm Lex and Lionel,
pragmatic considerations had to be observed. His project was far
more important and useful. After some heavy searching by his
associates, he found out that his former colleague; Dominic Haynes
had been killed in Prague. The circumstances had been mysterious at
best.
That search had turned up useful
information. The new Russian syndicate, after a gang-war in
2003-2004, was now far more organized and ruthless. They also had
moved into a number of very profitable ventures that were ignored by
the current government. Contact had been sporadic over the years,
but the Russians had been able to provide a pipeline of quality arms
for the Cartel and also to the rebels in Arabia. The Saudi Kingdom
had fallen after a revolution in 2005 and oil prices had not come
down since. Current per barrel prices hovered in the fifty dollar
range and the Cartel had been happy with that number, since they
controlled production out of Peru and Venezuela.
Unfortunately, Lex's company had been able
to use its synthetic products to keep the American economy from
imploding under the weight of exorbitant energy prices. Regardless,
the Cartel had achieved part of its goal in reducing American
influence in Latin America and they had a number of allies around
the globe.
Damien muttered as he continued to read
about Lex and Minerva. "Everywhere I turn, Lex is ruining things for
us. Minerva had to have an answer and help moderate oil prices with
its stupid synthetic fuel. Have been unable to touch them since
2003. I think it is time to try again."
Washington
Henry was working on a weekend; being the
Deputy National Security Advisor made for few days off. The mountain
of paper in front of him would not clear itself. He had been
monitoring events in many locations through the FBI's Special Hate
Crime's Unit. The reports and raw data kept him up-to-date on the
Anti-Mutant movement, which had grown into a major force. Since
2003, when the first mutant killings had occurred, more than three
dozen had died.
Henry watched the movement known as "The
Friends of Humanity" with great interest. The Senate was debating
how to deal with them and the Courts were issuing conflicting
rulings in different parts of the country. So far the White House
had declined to take a firm stand since Senator Kelly was taking the
lead on the issue.
Henry looked at the file on top of the pile
and found a report on that subject that had been compiled by Asst.
Director Chet Desmond. The task force had been his since the
beginning but the Senate has not happy with the results. Senator
Kelly had been fighting to have Desmond replaced in order to have
someone who subscribed to his views on the matter.
Henry knew that his patrons had an agenda,
thwarting the plans for a National Genetic database for years, but
they also continued to aid Kelly as often as possible. It made no
sense to him but it was not his call to make.
He pulled another file and saw the shape of
a common Latin American policy forming from several countries. 'Whatever is going on, Panama will be next. I
need to talk to Valerie, I don't want to create a policy issue, we
have too many of those already.'
Aug 1,
Smallville
The family had remained together for the
extended weekend to celebrate Philip and Hamilton's birthday. The
actual birthday was Monday, but Lex thought it best to celebrate
while everyone was in town and could share in the fun. Philip did
not care much, he was seven and just wanted to enjoy the day
swimming and talking to the adults.
Clark walked into Philip's bedroom and sat
down next to him. "What's this I hear about you not wanting a
birthday cake? Hamilton doesn't mind."
Philip looked down before glancing at Clark.
"Cause Poppy, I think that I am getting too old to have cake and ice
cream."
Clark bit back a smile. He lacked the overt
telepathic and empathic abilities of Lex and Whitney, but he could
read his kids just as well as they could, his bond with them was
very tight. He knew that Philip was fighting an internal battle over
this. "Okay, but if Hamilton wants some, I think you should get some
as well. Papa had birthday cake," Clark pointed out to his oldest
son.
Philip wanted to argue but Clark lifted him
up and hugged him tight. "Okay Poppy, if you say so. Can the cake be
just like Papa's?"
A hint of a pout formed on Philip's face,
and Clark kissed on his forehead. "Of course it can. We love you
kiddo. We just want you to have some fun. So, let’s go bother your
Nanas and see if they will make us breakfast."
Philip tried to look sternly at Clark, but
had to laugh at his Poppy. "Maybe we will have pancakes today."
Justin Daniels surveyed his newly-rented
garage apartment. It was a dump. No doubt about it.
"What the fuck am I thinking?"
This was a futile adventure, but he wanted
some answers and all the signs pointed to Smallville.
All the signs.
"Yeah, right." All the signs consisted of an eight-year-old cryptic
note that had just come into his possession. He never would have
known about it if his mother had not remarried and sent him the box
that of Daniels family memorabilia.
It was all that he had from his Uncle
Nathan, whose death had never been properly explained. Uncle Nathan,
had worked as a Special Forces operative before going into private
security practice; Uncle Nathan, who was the only father Justin had
ever known. Uncle Nathan, whose mysterious, unexplained death had
left a crater in Justin's life. And his heart.
That note was his only key to unlocking the
mystery, and all Justin wanted was for the whole thing to make
sense. He was ready to do whatever it took to find the truth.
The family was again in the family room,
this time in the early afternoon so all the residents of Metropolis
could return early enough to settle in. Elsa was trying to convince
her parents that she could stay at the palace for the week. Her
uncles would not mind, she argued. "Mommy, I'll be good. I like it
here."
Lisa sighed and remained stern. "You know
that you have class tomorrow just like the boys do. I'm sorry. We
will see them again soon."
Elsa pouted and flounced over to sit next to
Hamilton. "Mommy said no."
Hamilton pouted as well. "But--" He frowned
for a moment before deciding that further argument was futile. "
Okay. Want some cake?"
She perked up and they headed over to the
cake table and each grabbed a second slice.
Philip was sitting down looking at the book
he got from Lionel on the history of empires. It had a wonderful
array of maps, which had always intrigued Philip. Beside him was the
new laptop that his fathers had given him and some of the other cool
things he received for his birthday. Occasionally he cast a covetous
glance at the chemistry set Hamilton had received, but he knew
Hamilton loved to play with stuff like that so he couldn’t begrudge
him the gift.
Wes crept up behind Philip and captured his
neck in a big bear hug. "Happy birthday."
"Thank you, Wes," Philip replied, trying to
pretend he wasn't choking.
"Why don't we have hats?"
Lex was standing only a few feet behind them
and Philip's response captured his full attention. "I did not want
any silly hats, getting too old for that stuff."
Lex wanted to laugh at Weston's deflated,
"Oh," but didn't. He could tell that Wes was offended, but the
blue-eyed moppet made it a point not to fight with Philip. 'Very often,' Lex reminded himself.
Whitney and Clark were watching the kids
chat and play, while the adults relaxed. It was the last day before
the chaos began. Tomorrow Lex was flying to Topeka to officially
file to run in the primary. A Press Conference would be held in
Smallville later in the afternoon, and their lives might never be
the same after that. They were watching Lex trying not to laugh at
Philip and Wes when they heard something that made the whole room
went silent. Whitney looked at Lionel. "What was that again?"
Lionel looked over at them. "This morning
the White House Chief of Staff, Dick Simons, was began building the
case that there is no reason for people to be afraid to share their
genetic structure with the government and that those who are afraid
must have something to hide."
Lex looked around the room and sat down. In
moments, Hamilton and Elsa were squeezed into the chair next to him,
bracketing him like bookends. He pulled Hamilton onto his lap and
ruffled Elsa's hair as he observed, "They're shifting strategies,
fishing for something. This Mid-term election could change the
entire political landscape for the Republicans. It is a wedge issue.
Michael Ross is going to be the general chair of my campaign, but
the advice I trust most will come from this room." Lex looked at
Clark and nodded. Clark left the room. "If any of you have noticed,
Whitney, Clark, and I wear a bracelet with a small white jewel. They
are Kryptonian in nature and design. They are tracking devices and
also communications devices. They are impossible to remove. The
three of us have talked about this for years but I think it would be
wise if each of you had one as well. The jewel would look like
onyx."
Silence fell over the room until Philip
walked over and looked at Lex. "Do we get a bracelet Papa?"
"Yes, Philip. You and your brothers all get
bracelets, but they are not ready just yet. You'll have to wait a
day or two."
Elsa tugged on Lex's shirt. "I want one,
Uncle Lex. They look so cool."
Small conversations began throughout room,
but Lex focused on Elsa. "You will have to ask your parents,
sweetie. That's their decision."
Clark walked back in the room with a metal
case. He set it on a table but did not open it. "It's not
mandatory," he told them. "We are only asking. Consider it the last
line of defense that we have to protect you."
All eyes went to Lionel as he walked to the
case and opened it. He lifted a thin metal bracelet and slid it over
his right wrist. "I have been kidnapped before and it was a most
unpleasant experience." Everyone watched in amazement as the
bracelet shrunk to fit his arm perfectly. "Neat trick."
"They adjust to your body whenever necessary
to accommodate swelling from a sprained wrist, growth spurts, weight
loss or gain...anything at all," Whitney informed them.
"I'm in," Jonathan said. He looked down at
his wife. "Martha?"
She nodded. "Me, too."
The consensus was unanimous. In moments
everyone had a form-fitting bracelet except the four boys. Elsa was
showing Hamilton how nice it looked on her, and Hamilton was
admiring it politely.
Clark walked over and rifled Hamilton's deep
auburn hair. "You and your brothers will have a bracelet soon." His
warm gaze encompassed all of his sons. "Just like Daddy, Poppy, and
me."
The boys ' glum faces brightened and they
went back to eating cake or looking at gifts, but most of the
Metropolis residents began to circulate, saying their good-byes.
Elsa whined that she and Hamilton had not even had a chance to look
at the chemistry set. That simply made her parents move faster. Hugs
were exchanged all around and the boys headed to their playroom to
see if the new hologram game Hamilton got was any fun.
New York
The Hellfire Club mansion, located on Fifth
Avenue on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, radiated power and influence.
It was a central gathering place for the wealthy and powerful,
steeped in centuries of tradition. Bruce Wayne walked up to the door
with all the dignity he could marshal. Harry Osborne and Sebastian
Shaw had cornered him at the Luthor Gala and pressed him into
accepting a dinner invitation at the Club. His decision not to bring
a date had been wise one in retrospect. ‘At
least I only have to worry about myself tonight.’
Liveried servants greeted Bruce at the
door. “Good evening, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Shaw, Ms. Frost, and Mr.
Wyngard are expecting you.”
Bruce was led through the mansion and taken
to a private dining room on the second floor. Waiting for him at the
door was Oliver Queen, an Old Money blueblood like himself who was a
Hellfire member. “Oliver, I didn't know you were going to be
here.”
The blond-haired gentleman in his early
thirties smiled as he shook Bruce’s hand. “Sebastian asked me to
join this little soiree. Besides, I didn't get to talk to you at
Luthor's gala. Come on. Let me introduce you to Jason Wyngard.”
He escorted Bruce into the room and
performed the introduction.
“Mr. Wayne, I’ve heard so much about you,"
Wyngard said as he lightly pumped Bruce's hand. "I regret to inform
you that Harry Osborne will be unable to make it this evening.
Oliver was kind enough to take his place.”
Bruce saw Sebastian Shaw and Emma Frost
enter the room. In moments they were all seated around the table and
the conversation turned to politics and Lex’s announcement.
Aug 2,
Smallville
Lex came down to the breakfast nook in the
suit he would be wearing to the state capitol. While he was filing
his intention to run this morning, his newly appointed campaign
manager, Michael Ross, would be meeting with Lex’s political
advisors to review Lisa's ad strategy and plan the best method of
their message to the people.
Lex walked into the nook and gave Philip and
Hamilton a hug, a kiss, and a "Happy Birthday" before greeting Ben
and Wes.
“Papa? When do we get to do our charts?”
Philip asked as Lex made the rounds.
Lex looked at Clark and Whitney, who were
already at the table eating. “Shall we do it this morning?”
"Do you have time?" Whitney asked.
Hamilton tugged on Lex's trousers.
“Please???”
Lex looked from his watch to his son's green
eyes and knew it was hopeless. Every one of the boys had Clark’s
pout, even Philip, though he rarely used it. It didn't matter how
tight his schedule was this morning--he couldn't say no to that
pout. “Okay, everybody upstairs. It’s birthday chart time.”
Four sets of cheers went up and breakfast
was forgotten. The guys simply smiled and followed them up to the
playroom. It was a birthday tradition since Philip and Hamilton had
turned one that they could get their heights measured on their
birthdays. Now, it was a twice a year thing on Ben and Wes’ birthday
as well. A colorful wall chart had rows and columns for each of the
boys and their respective ages, and their heights were noted where
the grids intersected. Now that Philip and Hamilton were seven, the
chart was beginning to fill up.
Clark grabbed the measuring tape and the dry
pen that was used for the white board. “Who’s first?”
Wes walked up to Clark. “Me, Poppy.”
Clark smiled and motioned Wes against the
board. He made a mark for Wes, and repeated it for each boy. He
motioned to Whitney who was writing it all down. “Weston is 47 and a
quarter inches tall. Bennett is 47 and three-eighths inches tall.
Hamilton is 51 and half inches tall. And Philip is 51 and a half
inches tall.”
Whitney filled in the chart and could see
that Wes was now only an eighth of an inch shorter than his twin.
All of them were going to be at least as tall as he was --
6’3” -- but they might even challenge Clark, who stood 6’5
½”. “Okay guys, get ready for class with Miss Rachel and we
will see you at lunch."
Topeka
Lex hated traveling by helicopter; the
Shuttle was one thing, but helicopters another matter entirely.
Getting off with Jeff, he walked to a waiting car to take him the
Secretary of State’s office so he could file his papers as a
candidate for the Democratic primary. A car was waiting for the two
of them and whisked them to the State building. Lex saw that the
Press was not around and that was perfect. Already the
‘Establishment' was trying to paint him as a radical and he didn't
want to face reporters until his press conference where he had a
better chance of controlling the spin.
Amazingly, it appeared that all three of the
no-name candidates who had populated the Democratic field in early
campaigning were considering withdrawing. If that happened it left
only the former Attorney General, Alex Trahan, had made plenty of
enemies in the Democratic Party in the last three years.
The Clerk looked at Lex with an awe that she
couldn't keep out of her face or voice. “Okay Mr. Luthor, I need you
to sign at the three noted places and I need a filing fee of
$200.”
Lex signed the documents and handed the
Clerk his personal credit card. Two minutes later Lex and Jeff were
back in the car headed for the helicopter. They were just climbing
in when Jeff’s cell phone buzzed. The conversation was short and
terse.
“Well, it seems as though the it will be a
two person race in the Democratic primary," Jeff announced as he
buckled himself in. "Everyone has withdrawn but Trahan."
"Good. That will allow us to keep the race
focused."
"Lex, all signs say that the Trahan camp is
going to try everything they can to stop you," Jeff warned him.
Lex took a deep breath as the helicopter
lifted off. Conquering his instinctive surge of panic, he smiled at
Jeff. “There is more of my father in me than people know. Let them
start a fight they can’t finish.”
Smallville
The boys were sitting in the classroom,
heads bowed, their faces a mask of intense concentration in the
silence. The cavernous room, which was located on the floor above
the boys' living quarters, had been designed to be interactive and
fuel their desire for knowledge. Around the central classroom, there
were science stations for exercises in everything from astronomy to
zoology; state-of-the-art computers were capable of accessing
private and university databases research databases worldwide. One
offshoot of the classroom was a circular library that housed the
complete spectrum of the world's great literature.
Rachel had been overwhelmed when she first
walked in; the feeling hadn't gone away when she reviewed what the
boys had been studying--much of it on their own. Now, she was
studying them as they took a new test that researchers at Harvard
and Brown had put together, in cooperation with the American
Pediatric Society. It was different from anything they had taken
before and that was a good thing. These kids craved stimulation, and
standardized tests would likely bore the life out of them.
Rachel observed them as they each read a
section and then calculated the answer or figured out the logical
explanation. She was amazed when one-by-one each boy switched
writing hands. All four were ambidextrous! She couldn't wait to see
the changes in their penmanship after the switch. ’Teaching the Fordmans is going to be a
treat.’
Lex pulled up to the SCDC building, part of
the office space that was being turned into campaign headquarters.
He smiled when Michael greeted him. “Well sir, the Press Conference
is set for this afternoon. We will be using the parking lot down the
street--they are finishing the platform and decorations now.”
"Good." Lex glanced at his watch. “Where are
Keith and Alice?”
Michael pointed to the Talon across the
street. “Getting coffee. They had a two-hour video-conference with
Lisa this morning. I've had a team working on your website all
weekend and it will be will be up before the Press gets here. Oh,
and Pete said not to let Clark anywhere near the campaign because he
has no idea how to canvas.”
Lex laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Clark
had been summoned back to Smallville at the end of Pete’s junior
year to help place flyers everywhere announcing Pete’s campaign for
Class President. Chloe and Clark had been respectful, whereas Pete
had plastered mailboxes, telephone poles, store windows, and Church
bulletin boards. Pete had lost that election on the grounds that he
had annoyed everyone in the town.
Michael laughed as well and went off to
supervise the staffers he had worked at hiring since Lex had drafted
him on Saturday. His two years as a lobbyist in Washington made him
ideal for this job -- that and the close family ties he had with the
Kents and Fordmans.
Washington
Dick Simons had been White House Chief of
Staff since 2004. He had directed Pres. Johnson’s reelection
campaign and also eased the transition from Johnson to Hughes
following President Johnson’s cerebral hemorrhage. He was the
consummate insider, knowing what it took to get things done inside
the Beltway, and he knew when to fight.
Unfortunately, the Kansas Situation, as it
was now being called, was something he could have done without. He
addressed the assembled gathering which included the Senatorial
Campaign Chair, the Republican National Committee Chair, and three
key political advisors.
“With Luthor in the race on the Democratic
ticket, Kansas is no longer a solid state for us, but Voss’ seat has
been in Republican hands for longer than anyone can remember. We
have that in our favor, at least. We need to figure out how to
attack Luthor.”
Storm Carver, the Senatorial Campaign
director, looked at some data he brought along. “Dick, we have to
tread carefully. Luthor actually has a following not just in Kansas,
but across the country. Generic polls show that he has a base of ten
percent to support him as President. And those numbers were
generated by open response, not with pollsters reciting a laundry
list of names for them to choose from. No other public figure came
close to that.”
Mitch Dorgan, the National Committee Chair,
scowled at the people in the room. “He is not some damn saint! We
have to hit him hard and fast.”
"No!" Dick Simons raised his hand to halt
the tirade. “Jacob is going to have to go toe-to-toe with Luthor. We
need to focus our efforts on solidifying our platform and
counteracting Luthor's as it emerges. Let the Press dig for dirt and
we'll keep our eyes open for something we can exploit. In the
meantime, Kansas moves up on the funding list, for now. If Luthor
moves into a big lead we cut our losses.”
Carver and Dorgan did not look happy, but
the main consultant, John Norris, quickly agreed. “Dick is correct.
Kansas could become a major waste of resources or it could become a
key victory for us. Jacob will be indebted to us and perhaps we can
maintain some control over the Party.”
Glances were exchanged and the battle plan
approved. Now they just had to get money to flow to Kansas and hope
that Lex Luthor was not much of a politician.
Smallville
Lex walked out to the platform, the summer
heat making the reporters sweat. Lex, though, looked fresh and
refreshed when he took the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen. Today
begins the journey for me and for the citizens of Kansas. It will
mark a moment in time when a clear choice was placed before the
voters." He officially declared his candidacy, then opened the
forum. "So questions?” Lex scanned the crowd of dozens of reporters
and broadcast news crews. Spotting Lois Lane, he decided to take the
plunge. “Yes, Lois Lane, I believe.”
Lois could not believe she would get the
first question. “Why should the voters of Kansas send you to the
Senate?”
Lex gathered his thoughts for a second and
then responded. “Short answer: Quality of life issues and practical
policies. We're a state of enormous diversity and there is great
strength in that. But the issues that affect our farmers here in the
heartland are often different from the issues that impact factory
workers in the city and even our nation as a whole. I have ideas,
and more importantly, I have answers. You'll be hearing a lot about
them in as my platform unfolds in the days to come.”
Lois was unable to ask a follow up question
as Lex called on Mark Radke of CNN. “Your father is now the Chair of
Minerva. Was that your idea?”
Lois groaned at the cupcake question. She
would have followed up with questions about Luthor’s personal life
and asked if he was willing to release his tax information. Forbes
and Fortune could only estimate his wealth; no one was certain what
it really was. She ignored his answer to CNN and waited for
the next question.
“Mr. Luthor, Connie Smith, Newsweek. How much money are you willing
to spend on this campaign, and are you aware of three strategy
sessions that have already occurred in Washington?”
Lex composed his face into neutral mask. “I
am willing to spend enough to make sure my positions are clear and
my message reaches the voters of Kansas. Washington can have as many
meetings as it wants. That's all it seems to do anyway.”
Lois laughed along with many members of the
Press Corp. Another national reporter chimed in with a question.
“Harold Baker, MSNBC. You have a reputation as a recluse. Are you
prepared to let the voters know about your private life, and if so,
how much of it?”
Lex smiled. “That was the first question I
expected. I am running for office out of a sense of duty to the
people of this state whose voices are being ignored, and out of a
commitment to important issues that are being marginalized and
trivialized. None of that has anything to do with my private life,
which is none of the voters' -- or the medias' -- business. My
qualifications and credentials to hold office are a matter of public
record. My private life is private and will remain so.”
"Wow! Talk about
throwing down the gauntlet," Lois thought with a growing sense
of excitement that Lex Luthor was a man with something to hide. Of
course, taking on the world’s wealthiest man was not something she
could do alone. She needed information and a few leads. She noted a
few more questions, but none were hard news. The press conference
ended and Jimmy Olsen snapped pictures as the candidate was escorted
off to his campaign headquarters.
‘Time to find out
who the man behind the mask really is.’
Washington
Henry enjoyed coming to this quiet pub near
Georgetown University. He sat back, nursing his beer and worrying
about the decaying global situation.
“Falling asleep?”
Henry jerked his head up and found Valerie
Cooper smirking at him, a glass of her favorite single malt Scotch
already in hand. “No, just waiting for you to get here. Drink?”
The tall woman nodded and slid into the
booth across from him. “So Henry, what can I do for you?”
“I need a favor. Something is going on down
in Latin America, but CIA has been unable to get agents in the field
to create inroads.”
Valerie sat back, regarding him coolly. “Are
you asking for my help?”
Henry smirked. “Yes, you are the liaison to
the Avengers, and one of them might be able to investigate without
it becoming official government policy.”
Val smiled and swirled her drink. “So this
is an unofficial request for a fact-finding mission from the
National Security Council to the Avengers. Because CIA is unable to
get any information out of Latin America. Henry, I answer to the
President and you know that. I can’t make that request, even off the
record, without the Oval Office knowing. Captain America would be
down here in an instant. I need a memo at the minimum, Henry.”
She was right. The super-humans who made up
the organization known as the Avengers required oversight. The
Avengers was a quasi-governmental organization made up of
individuals dedicated to defending the United States, and the world,
from threats unknown. With over a dozen members, it was formidable
asset but also a way to regulate the super-humans. Dr. Valerie
Cooper was that oversight, but they weren't about to follow her
blindly without assurances that they would not be left out in the
cold once the job was done. “I’ll see what I can do.” Henry finished
his beer, paid the tab, and stood up. “Val, a word of warning.
Things are getting dicey and I would not have asked if I really did
not mean it.”
Val stood up and whispered in his ear. “I
know Henry. But look at the overall situation... Would you take a
mission like this without express cover? Sen. Kelly is beginning to
feel his oats and soon not even the President will be able to stop
him.”
Smallville
Whitney sat down to dinner with an
uncharacteristically small gathering of the family in evidence: just
the boys, Clark, Lex, and Jeff. All the grandparents were in
Metropolis engaged in their various activities and responsibilities.
Whitney looked down the table and watched as Wes struggled with his
rice, getting more on the table than in his mouth. He wanted to
laugh as Lex patiently demonstrated to their youngest son the
relative value of manipulating the rice with a spoon.
“Daddy, Miss Rachel is great," Hamilton
said, drawing Whitney's attention to his end of the table. "She had
us take a test and then we worked on some puzzles.”
Whitney reached over a tussled Hamilton’s
hair. “I glad you like her, kiddo. What kind of puzzles?”
Hamilton beamed at him. “Oh, it was a
holographic puzzle of the inside of a frog and we had to put him
back together and see if he would work.”
Whitney arched his eyebrows but did not
respond. Clark did. “Really, how interesting. What else did you do
today?”
All four boys suddenly began to talk at once
and the four adults at the table listened to the enthusiastic
ramble. Miss Rachel was apparently doing something right. Finally
dinner was completed and Lex announced that it was time for the boys
to get ready for bed and that meant bath time.
The guys were settling into bed when the
first crash of thunder rocked the patio windows. The news was turned
on and radar showed an intense line of storms coming up from the
south, remnants of a middling hurricane that had landed in Texas.
Whitney climbed out of bed and opened the door that led down to the
playroom. Right on cue, four little people came running into the
bedroom and hopped on the bed.
Whitney smiled. “Hi, guys," he greeted them
as they climbed under the blankets and made themselves at home. It
happened every time there was a loud storm; the boys would scamper
up to the master bedroom and crawl in bed with them. Even Philip
would climb into the bed, though he always insisted that he was only
there to keep the younger twins from feeling foolish.
Whitney climbed back into bed and soon had a
Teddy Bear plastered to his side. “Ben, buddy, sorry but Teddy is
going to have to sleep on the head board. You are all getting very
big.” In fact, the bed had been custom built to be larger than a
King size bed. It was an emperor size, and all seven fit
comfortably. For now.
“Okay, Daddy,” Ben answered, surrendering
the teddy that was almost as big as he was.
Ben snuggled close to Wes who was next to
Clark. Clark had Wes on one side and Hamilton on the other; Philip
was sitting next to Lex and was asking what he was reading. All the
boys jumped when another crash of thunder resounded over the Palace.
There was a constant light coming from the patio doors as lightning
continued to flash like a strobe.
Lex found that Philip had moved closer to
him since the last boom of thunder. “So Philip, do you like Miss
Rachel?”
Philip covered his mouth as he yawned. “Yes,
Papa.”
Next thing Lex knew, Philip was asleep next
to him, he looked over and saw that all the boys had fallen asleep
despite the continued rattling of the walls by the echoes of
thunder. //Well, never fails. They barge in and ten minutes later,
sound asleep.//
Whitney and Clark chuckled, but did not
respond. They too were settling in to sleep. Lex looked over and put
out the lights and went to sleep as well.
Aug 5,
Metropolis
Lois walked into the cubicle that Jimmy used
as an office. “So Olsen, have you found anything?”
Jimmy looked at her and went back to typing.
“I'm running through all the pictures of the party. There were a
number of very important people, but the blond you wanted to know
about is Tristan Fordman’s youngest brother, Whitney.”
Lois leaned against one of the walls.
“Whitney Fordman? Doesn't he sit on Minerva's board of directors?
Isn't he a little young to have that much power?"
"Everybody in Luthor's camp is young," Jimmy
commented. "Well, except his father, but--"
Lois cut him off. "I want to know more about
Whitney Fordman's connection to Lex Luthor. We need to head back to
Smallville, Jimmy.”
Jimmy looked at her with a blank stare. “No,
I don’t think so. I have to finish pulling together all my shots for
the photo essay on the palace. No one has ever been inside
before -- America’s Castles only filmed the grounds and the
fountains, and stuff. I got the exclusive on the public rooms, and I
have to submit it before 5 today.”
Lois wanted to strangle his neck. “You’ve
had a week to get this layout done! What is the big deal?”
“The deal is, Luthor's announcement and the
launch of his campaign pushed the Palace spread back from last
weekend to this weekend for editorial reasons. Lex Luthor is off at
county fairs and mini-malls now, the announcement is no longer
news.” Jimmy replied while still moving photos around his spread.
Lois smirked, “I need you to come with me
tomorrow then. You have that damn memory for names and faces that I
need.”
Washington
Raven Darkholm looked over the results of
the last round of tests. They were promising but not perfect. The
‘enhanced’ soldiers could handle more gravity stress than a
non-enhanced soldier, a fact that was making it possible for Raven
to develop a mechanized battle armor that would eventually turn
every enhanced soldier into the equivalent of a mobile mini-tank.
Darkholm, a weapons designer, was the assistant director of DARPA,
Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. The USAMRIID enhanced
soldier project had been moved to her department three years ago.
They had made the soldiers stronger, faster, and more dangerous, but
had not moved much beyond that. There were only 600 Top Secret
"prototypes" in existence, and since the U.S. wasn't currently
involved in any major military conflict, there was little hurry on
the part of the Administration to expand the project out of its
experimental stage.
Army Chief of Staff, General Sam Thames
walked into Dr. Darkholm’s office. He had created the super soldier
project and he oversaw all aspects of the program personally. “Dr.
Darkholm, what are the latest results?”
Raven looked up from her notes. “Well sir,
the newest version of the battle armor is handling better than we
expected. Most countries' standard weaponry will prove ineffective
against it. The problem is, the Ranger and Mountain divisions
require speed to achieve the planning objectives, but we haven't
been successful in making it mobile enough over rough terrain to
accommodate the soldiers' enhanced speed. The pneumatics on the knee
and hip joints of the armor are responding too slow, creating a drag
that reduces the soldier's running speed by about 14.2%."
Gen. Thames sat down. “Can you reduce the
drag?"
"I believe so."
"Good." He picked up another file. "The
shoulder-mounted rail guns are finally working?”
“Yes, sir. We were able to get them to cool
properly and not upset the balance of the armor. Sir, I think the
Army and the Marines will be able to deploy full brigades in three
years.”
“Dr. Darkholm, I don’t want brigades. All I
need are a few battalions of enhanced, battle-equipped soldiers to
allow our friends and enemies to see that American power is alive
and well. That will allow me to convince the President that American
troops can be used for foreign adventures whenever necessary.”
Raven fiddled with some papers and did not
look up at him. She believed in the concept of the Super Soldier and
its value to protecting America's interests, but over the years
she'd become convinced Thames just wanted his own little private
army he could send on "foreign adventures" whenever he pleased,
America's interests be damned.
“I don’t make policy, sir. I just meet my
objectives and report to you and Secretary Vance. Anything
else?”
The General heard the explicit warning in
her voice; she was a civilian answerable only to him, the Secretary
of Defense, and the President. She was one of the foremost weapons
designers the country had, and Secretary Vance would gladly serve
Thames' head on a platter to the President if he did anything to
impede Dr. Darkholm from getting the weapons systems up and running.
“Very well Doctor. Have a good day.”
Aug 8, Metropolis
Lois was looking over some of the
information Jimmy had gathered in Smallville. Perry had forbidden
her from going to Smallville to dig up dirt; she was too high
profile and sending Jimmy to snoop around made more sense, since he
was doing the photographic essay of the Palace. As a result, Jimmy
had been on the trail of the good stuff while Lois was covering the
scintillating story of Lex Luthor's ribbon cutting at the McMinville
Jiffy Mart. She had also spent three days failing miserably at
getting Bryan Armitage to return her phone calls, although she did
learn that he was in Switzerland. None of those facts had improved
her disposition.
“Jimmy, what am I looking at?”
Jimmy looked up from his computer and smiled
at her. “That guy, Whitney Fordman, that you kept saying was hot --
l found out he was outed back in high school.” Jimmy typed a command
and suddenly a picture popped up of Whitney and a tall, dark haired
kid. “This was his boyfriend, Clark Kent.”
Lois studied the picture. It looked like a
Prom photo to her. “So Fordman is gay. What does that have to do
with anything?”
Jimmy clicked another key and an image of
Clark -- again in a tux, but older this time -- appeared on the
screen of his laptop. “Kent was at the Gala, as well. He talked to a
bunch of people. He even said hello to me -- the way he greeted
people, it was almost like it was his party. It was nothing he said,
just a feeling I got."
"Gee, that's helpful. Can I quote you on
that?" Lois asked dryly, looking at the picture intently. “So
Fordman is gay and his ex- or current boyfriend was at the Gala
acting like a big shot. Fordman sits on Minerva’s board and a few
other boards, as well. I'm missing something.”
Jimmy keyed up another picture. This one was
of an old highway billboard that read: Welcome to Smallville. Meteor
Capital of the World.
“You remember reading about the big meteor
shower that hit Smallville in 1989? Well, it appears that after the
meteor shower, a lot of strange things happened in Smallville, and
Clark Kent's name came up in almost every story I heard. The
weirdness mostly stopped after 2003, but apparently Smallville was a
hotbed of strangeness in the first few years after Lex Luthor
arrived."
Lois shook her head. "I've been searching
the 'Net for information about Smallville, and nothing weird is
coming up."
"Yeah, I discovered the same thing, and that
alone is strange," Jimmy commented. "'Cause everybody I talk to
remembered that a high school student named Chloe Sullivan was
obsessed with what she called her "Wall of Weird“. She wrote lots of
articles about strange stuff in the high school's online newspaper.
We should be able to access that in our searches, but all of that
data has disappeared."
Lois laughed. “I remember Sullivan. She was
an intern three years ago -- damned bright reporter, great
instincts. Okay, Jimmy, find me Chloe and keep up the good
work.”
Costa
Rica
Damien was looking over notes that had been
left for him by Acevedo. Panama was the final domino and the lynch
pin that would hold the whole enterprise together. The raid would
begin in 36 hours; the endgame was approaching. The Cartel’s people
now controlled most of Central and South America; and once Panama
fell they would consolidate their power into a mighty Latin American
Union.
Two platoons were already at the Panamanian
border, armed with the latest version of the Russian RPG as well as
the new silent fully automatic Kalshenko machine guns. Damien had
seen them in action and they were lethal in power and ammunition.
‘Only time will tell if the plan will
succeed’.
He still had to make arrangements to meet
with a member of the Russian Syndicate to request more weapons. The
entire campaign for Panama might require more than they currently
held.
Smallville
Clark was sitting in his office hooked into
the United States Geological Survey’s mainframe looking at the
latest plate shifts under California and the West Coast. Radar and
seismic images showed that part of the major fault off the coast of
Oregon was threatening to slip within the next three months. Clark
was trying to get the projections down to a few days so he would
know when he had to act.
//Kal-El. The last parts of the Larsen
ice-shelf is going to collapse in a matter of hours.//
Clark sighed and rubbed his forehead. “And I
am expected to do what exactly?”
//Might I suggest a trip down here to
stabilize the shelf. The flooding problems and current weather
issues are directly related to the increase in fresh water to the
oceans. A few hundred million more gallons from the disintegration
of the shelf is only going to make the problem worse.//
“Fine. I will be there after I tuck the boys
in tonight. Lex won’t be home until late and Whitney is leaving
early to head to New York.”
//I estimate that the ice-shelf will be
beyond repair in fifteen hours.//
Clark groaned as he left his chair and went
downstairs to check on Whitney, who was practicing with Chris. Clark
wanted to make sure his lover did not hurt himself.
Rachel was finishing up for the day. Events
had forced her to watch the boys until close to seven, but she did
not mind. They were still getting to know each other, and so far
there had been relatively few bumps in the road.
The heat of the day had given way to a
lovely cool evening and she decided to take the long way back to the
villa, choosing the path through the gardens instead of the brightly
lit, climate controlled tunnel passage. This garden path was one of
the few areas of the estate that she was familiar with -- security
had taken her on a whirlwind tour of the palace grounds as a flurry
of rules and regulations were communicated to her, but there had
been no time to explore on her own. So far, the sum total of her
palace knowledge was the two routes between the Staff Villa and the
boy's area of the Family Wing of the palace.
In no hurry, Rachel stopped (literally) to
smell the roses; the varieties were just amazing. And they were
hardy, too, showing no signs of wilting in the summer heat. When a
movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye, she
looked down the path to her right and froze. Two catlike creatures
were staring at her, studying her with the intensity that only a cat
can direct toward an interloper, but these were no ordinary
household tabbies. They were as large as panthers, but sleeker,
finer-boned, like Siamese. They had the haughty attitude of Siamese
and the startling menace of panthers, too, but unlike Siamese or
panthers, these two cats had pale lavender fur and eyes that burned
with a faint but fierce golden glow.
Rachel was fascinated and only moderately
terrified as the two cats rose and began to purposefully circle her.
Rachel released the rose she had been sniffing and straightened
slowly.
"Nice kitties," she murmured under her
breath.
“Don’t be afraid. They won’t hurt you.”
Rachel recognized Clark's voice, but wasn't
assured enough to turn toward him. "If you say so.”
“Isis, Thoth, this is Miss Rachel. She
belongs here." Clark came up behind Rachel and touched her shoulder
lightly as though reinforcing the concept that she was an accepted
member of the household. "Go into the house now,” Clark commanded
and both ‘cats’ took off towards the palace.
Rachel turned to watch them go. “Ben
mentioned cats, but I thought he was talking about Abyssinians,
not..." her incredulous voice trailed off, waiting for Clark to
supply the name of the breed.
He only smiled and gestured to the walkway.
Rachel fell into step beside him when it was clear he intended to
escort her to the villa. “They were a genetic experiment. They are
highly intelligent, fast, and loyal.”
Rachel frowned. “Isn’t that illegal?”
Clark smiled at her. “Some forms of genetic
manipulation are illegal, yes, but exemptions were made for those
two as part of a genetically enhanced cross-breeding program. Feel
free to interact with them in whatever degree you like. They'll
accept you now. Have a good evening.”
They had reached the walkway that led up to
the Villa, and Clark left her there, departing before she could
question his thin explanation for the existence of two of the most
exotic creatures on earth. But, of course, Isis and Thoth were not
from Earth. They were fralics, the
royal breed of Kryptonian cat. They had been a gift from the Keeper
after the birth of Weston and Bennett. The cats stood three feet off
the ground when on all four legs; their fur was silky smooth and
pale lavender. They were faster than the Terran cheetah and the two
in concert could bring down the strongest of mammals. Millennia of
breeding had producing a guard cat that was loyal, intelligent,
strong, fast, and psychic. The Keeper
thought that on Earth they would live two hundred years. Clark loved
them, and the dogs liked them as well. The boys had fun with them,
but most importantly, Isis and Thoth were the last line of defense
in guarding the boys from attack.
The fralics
had retractable claws and the long ‘canine’ teeth of carnivores, but
their preferred diet was vegetables and fruits. Clark still laughed
when he remembered the day that the triad had walked into the boys’
playroom -- Wes and Ben had been almost two at the time -- and found
all four of the boys climbing on the cats. Isis had been grooming
Ben, making him giggle hysterically. That was when Clark knew,
without a doubt, that the cats loved the boys and would die
protecting them.
Antarctica
Clark flew over the Larsen Ice-shelf,
looking for the fissures that were leading to its crumbling
collapse. He had the data that the Keeper had given him. The lack of
light forced him to use his X-ray vision to see. The cold was
affecting him, seeping through his cloak and armor, giving him good
reason to devise a way to stabilize the shelf in short order. The
winds and the roaring seas were forcing him to concentrate on
staying in the spot he was floating at. “This is not good.”
It took a few minutes for him to come up
with a plan but he soon plunged into the frigid waters and went to
the seafloor. The instability of the melting flows and the ice
itself was causing the land fragment that supported the shelf to
crumble. Clark burrowed under the seafloor and used his heat vision
to melt the rock that was under the shelf, sealing fissures and
strengthening it again. After an hour of fixing the foundation he
surfaced, trying to catch his breath.
“This is where it gets tricky,” Clark said
aloud as he began to use his heat vision to melt part of the shelf
about two miles away from the ocean water, near the surface fissures
whose instability was increasing the stress on the newly-reinforced
bedrock. Water vapor formed and returned in the form of snowfall.
Then Clark activated a device that was part of his armor. Flying
over the fissures, he used a freeze ray to force the melting ice to
freeze again. Making a full circuit over the ice-shelf Clark finally
hovered again. “Keeper, status of the ice-shelf.”
//Kal-El, the ice-shelf is currently stable.
Barring further warming trends in Earth's oceans, the shelf should
hold for 4.3 years.//
Clark sighed. He had just averted an
ecological disaster. He should have been gratified, elated. Instead,
he was just sad. He'd slapped a temporary band-aid on a problem the
people of his adopted home refused to even acknowledge existed. How
long were the citizens of Earth going to ignore their responsibility
to the planet that nurtured them and kept them alive?
Clark had already lost one home. He didn't
want to see another one destroyed by ignorance.
He turned north and headed home.
Aug 10, Panama
It was the dead of night. The two platoons
were a mere two miles away from the border. A Panamanian garrison
was stationed four miles over the border; reconnaissance reports
told the assault commander that there were no more than seventy
soldiers at the garrison. A late night attack would pit the element
of surprise against a miniscule number of sentries.
More than a dry run, but less than a full
assault, tonight's excursion would test the readiness of the
Cartel's forces and the "designer soldiers" who made up a portion of
those troops.
The first platoon reached their objective
and waited for the signal that the second was in place. A silent
buzzing at the belt of the leader gave him his signal.
A sentry saw a brief flash from the tree
line and that was all he would very see; a hole in his head rendered
any remaining thoughts useless. Three members of the assault team
sprinted to the fence and passed through without issue. In moments,
the gate was open and the rest of the first team entered the
compound. Sensors attached to the fence were disabled, allowing the
second group to do its job.
The "advance" signal brought the Beta Team
forward and two men phased through the fence. A bag of explosives
was tossed to them and they moved on as the fence behind them was
cut, allowing the rest of team two inside. A sentry appeared but was
downed by an alert member of the team. The explosives were placed
near the power generators and set for five minutes.
Alpha Team fanned out in two-man groups.
Three more sentries fell to gunfire. Moments later, an explosion
rocked the night sky and the lights went out. Both squads donned
their night vision goggles and as the men of the garrison ran into
the compound, half-dressed, panicked, they found themselves being
fired upon. In moments, the garrison had been reduced to lifeless
corpses and burning buildings. Neither team had suffered a loss nor
had they retreated back into the jungle canopy.
The first test was to be considered a
success.
Washington
Henry was sound asleep when the phone on the
nightstand began to ring. Moments later, his pager went off and so
did his cell phone. He looked at saw that it was the White House
Signals Office calling. "Gyrich."
"Mr. Gyrich, there has been an incident in
Panama, Signal Intel is coming in now."
Henry swore and acknowledged the call.
"FUCK!" He had been expecting something, but CIA had refused to meet
his intelligence demands and now something was going on. Too many
things were going wrong in Latin America. Peru's government had
changed in 2003 followed by El Salvador. Soon Venezuela had also
fallen to a revolution, but the United States had been unable to
intervene. When Columbia held elections that brought FARC
sympathizers to power, American military support had been ousted.
Political repression did exist, but it was not widespread; oil and
drug wealth were being used to buy popular support with alarming
success. Latin America was no longer considered a safe zone.
When he finally made it into work, a naval
officer met him with a report and a sheath of papers. "Sir, from
what we are able to see in the intercepts and satellite imaging, a
small raid took place over the Panamanian border. The Forest
hindered some of the images but the military is reporting that a
garrison was attacked. The assault came from Costa Rica but we have
no Intel to suggest that the Costa Rican government had anything to
do with this."
Henry glanced at his watch and then
calculated the local time in Panama. "Someone contact the watch desk
at State. We have treaty commitments to Panama we can honor if they
ask. I'll call Dick Simons and see if he wants to inform the
President."
New
York
Whitney had just finished another
contentious meeting with a group of NAI shareholders. North American
Imperial had become one of the planet's biggest banks in the past
decade, making it the crown jewel in a lot of portfolios--and a
royal pain in Whitney's ass. In the aftermath of the sale of the
Community National Bank of the Heartland to North American Atlantic
in 2003, Lex, Lionel, and Tristan decided to fight for their rights
when the board made the decision to merge with yet another bank,
U.S. Bank & Trust. By mid-2004, the LFK holding company
controlled over thirty five percent of the new North American
Imperial. By the end of 2004, NAA merged with US Bank Corp to form
North American Imperial. At that point, NAI was the sixth largest
bank in the nation by asset size, but third in market
capitalization. With slumping domestic economics and market trends
going against financial institutions, North American Imperial took a
huge gamble and purchased its second commercial bank, Mid-Atlantic
Commercial in early 2006. During the entire timeframe, NAI had been
taking a position in the Hong Kong - Shanghai Banking Company Ltd,
or HSBC. By 2008, NAI was a major owner of HSBC and one of the
largest banks in the world. It had also been one of the best
performing bank stocks for the last five years. NAI was the pinnacle
of financial companies, with a balanced portfolio and strong
domestic and international reserves. That was what made it so
attractive and why the proxy fight was getting intense.
The meeting had not been good news. Several
investors wanted to have a shareholders meeting and oust the current
board. Given the bank's unprecedented success under the current
board of directors, such a move made little sense, and Whitney had
been unsuccessful in getting a straight answer or a valid reason.
Whitney was beginning to hate New York with a passion. He needed to
clear his mind, but unfortunately, he had a lunch meeting before he
could take a nap or exercise.
He pulled out his pocket PC to check the
location of his lunch meeting.
"The meeting is at Kraken's, sir," Brian
Nichols announced, sparing Whitney the trouble of looking it up. Not
to mention reading his mind. "With Jared Cromwell and Sir Johan
Night."
Whitney looked over at his body man and
laughed. "I suppose you'll be wanting a raise for being my secretary
now?"
Nichols laughed also and opened the door of
the black Mercedes for Whitney and had the driver speed off down to
Lower Manhattan.
Smallville
Lex looked at the numbers Alice and Keith
had handed him. "So we're looking at a significant lead over Alex
Trahan in the Primary and ten points over Fromm in the general
election?"
Alice took the question. "Yes, sir. That
poll was taken over a two-day period of likely voters. The most important number I
would like you to notice -- forty percent of the voters have
significant support for you. Right now against Fromm, you lead fifty
to forty with ten percent undecided."
Keith jumped in, "But these are early
numbers and don't take into account what the Primary could do to
you. In either direction," he added quickly.
Lex shook his head and smirked. "Are you two
always going to be this much fun?"
Washington
Valerie Cooper walked into the White House
Situation Room, prepared to deal with the National Security Council.
She had seen the report on the incident in Panama and knew that
Henry would be livid. She took her seat quickly.
"Dr. Cooper, thank you for joining us," Dick
Simons greeted. "We're both busy. I'll get right to the point. The
United States Government can't investigate this directly, but the
White House would like the Avengers to take a reconnoiter down to
Panama and look around."
Val looked over at Henry and scanned the
rest of the table. "Sir, given the current political climate, Capt
America is going to want a formal request, not an informal one."
Secretary of Defense, Dr. Gabriel Vance
stared at her for a moment. "Dr. Cooper, no one appreciates the role
the Avengers have played for the country more than I do. However, we
grant them special privileges and expect certain things in return."
Valerie lifted her glass of water, using the
time to select the proper response. "I will talk to Captain America
and to the Wasp. I'll label it a classified mission."
Dick Simons rose. "Say whatever you have to.
The White House needs this done." With that he left the room and the
senior members followed.
Henry walked over and sat down next to Val.
"For what it is worth, I would not have sent the Avengers to the
border."
Valerie nodded. "I have to call New York and
convince the Avengers to help." Valerie stood up and left to plead
her case.
New
York
Whitney was getting ready to head out and
have dinner with a friend, then fly back to Kansas on the private
jet. He glanced at his watch; right on cue his body man entered. "I
was wondering if you were going to check on me. You were almost
late."
Brian smiled without commenting on the jape.
"The jet is ready, sir. Once you leave the restaurant, we will be
ready to go."
Whitney nodded and headed out the door. He
could not wait to get to dinner; he was meeting Chloe and her new
boyfriend. 'Well, he is not THAT new. They
have only been dating for ten months.' Whitney chuckled to
himself, curious to find out what kind of guy Chloe liked now.
Whitney was the first to arrive at the
restaurant, which gave him a few extra seconds to size up "the
boyfriend" when Chloe entered with a brown-haired, blued-eyed guy of
medium height. Whitney wanted to laugh for a second but decided not
to; it was clear that Chloe was very much into this guy.
Whitney stood up and gave her a greeting
hug. "Chloe!"
"Whitney!" Chloe exclaimed as she hugged him
tight. "Whitney, this is Bobby Drake. Bobby, Whitney Fordman."
Bobby shook hands with the taller blond.
"Dude, she talks about you all the time. You and some Clark-guy she
says is clueless."
Whitney could not help but laugh out loud.
"Chloe! Clark actually does have a clue or two these days. Please,
sit down."
An hour of food, wine, and conversation
passed all too quickly. Whitney could tell that Bobby was hiding
something, but it was not malicious. Overall, Whitney approved. It
wasn't until dessert that he finally he brought up the subject that
had prompted him to arrange this dinner. "Chloe, I need your help."
She looked at him with a hidden smile. "Do
you have any idea how often I hear that?"
"I'm sure you very it very often, but you
don't hear 'I'll pay you' very often do you?"
Chloe laughed. "No, I don't. You have my
complete attention."
Whitney's sobered. "I need you to find out
who is gathering proxies for a fight over North American Imperial.
Take your time because I don't want you to get caught--discretion is
absolutely vital."
Chloe nodded and jotted down a note. "I'm on
it. Discreetly. Email me with what you already know, okay?"
Whitney shook his head. "No, here is a chip
that has the key data. Keep in touch and be careful. I have to go."
Standing up, he hugged Chloe and then shook Bobby's hand. "Pleasure
meeting you. Good luck to both of you finishing up at Columbia."
Aug 15, Washington
Assistant FBI Director Chet Desmond was
looking over the latest task force report on the anti-mutant
violence that was plaguing the country. The task force was
six-years-old and had been formed because of some vicious hate
crimes in various locations around the country. The first crimes had
been handled by local law enforcement in their various jurisdictions
until patterns began to emerge that made it clear these were hate
crimes. That put the crimes in the FBI's court, and routine DNA
analysis of the victims made it clear what they all had in common.
The question over the years had become politicized, making any
solution very difficult. The issue was also driving a wedge across
the electorate, making the hunt for the groups of people who were
committing these crimes difficult, as well.
The Senate was getting very nasty regarding
anything that the task force found. Some of the Senators wanted the
task force to look into evidence that the mutants were dangerous.
Senate Majority Leader Robert Kelly made it very clear that he
thought the task force was looking at the wrong aspects of the case,
and the entity that had been formed to stop the hate crimes and
bring the perpetrators to justice was being pressured into leading a
witch hunt for the very people it was supposed to be protecting.
Sen. Kelly was placing mounting pressure on the President to force
the Attorney General to make a change at the task force or to let
Justice take the lead.
“Why do I even try?” Chet said out loud. A
chuckle from the doorway brought Chet’s attention front and center.
“Holly?”
Holly Jones walked into Chet’s office and
sat down. “You do it because you have a passion for justice," she
said with a wicked grin, “and a major martyr complex.”
Chet laughed. “Yeah, I’m just a big bleeding
heart, and you are the ruthless counter-intelligence chief.”
The Deputy Director of the FBI’s
Counter-Intelligence division shot him the finger. A Yale Law
Graduate and former Federal Attorney, she directed all efforts of
the government to find non-legal spies and safeguard America’s
secrets. “I was going to offer to take you to a bar down the street.
Not so sure now.”
Chet tried to put on his best pout, but got
a paperclip thrown at him for his trouble. “Okay, I accept. Rough
day?”
“No, same shit different day. I’ll be on the
Hill tomorrow briefing the House Intelligence committee on what we
know about current espionage efforts in the country.”
Chet laughed as he and Holly walked out of
his office. “Well, at least they like you. The Senate is ready to
declare me public enemy number one.”
Aug 19,
Smallville
Philip was kicking his feet in the lake. Ben
was floating on his dinosaur in the cordoned-off section while Wes
was trying to swim. Hamilton was jumping off the diving board,
daring Philip to follow, but the eldest of the boys wasn't taking
the bait. He was still wet from his own swim and dive, and he
preferred to watch and laugh as his twin tried a back flip and ended
up doing a cannonball.
Lounging on the huge wooden raft that was
anchored in the lake, Clark, Whitney, and Lex were all watching the
boys frolic. Mohiam and Duchess had been swimming, but were now on
the bank, asleep in the sun. The cats did not care for the swimming,
but were near, also sleeping in the sun. Clark could not stop
laughing at Hamilton’s flop. “See Lex, he is as graceful as you
are.”
"Oh, yeah?" Lex exclaimed.
"Brilliant rhetoric, Mr. Candidate. Can we
quote that snappy comeba--oof!" Clark's teasing was cut short when
Lex lunged at him.
Whitney's laughter at their antics was
interrupted when he saw Wes getting on the raft's diving board. “NO!
Weston you know better.” The inevitable pout began to form, but
Whitney was unrelenting. “Wes, son, don’t pout. You know the
rules.”
Wes climbed off the diving board and jumped
back in the water. He came up next to Ben, who was still floating on
his dino raft. “Daddy won’t let me dive.”
Ben nodded his head. “He won’t let me dive,
either. Get your float and we can use our water guns to get Daddy.
And maybe Papa and Poppy too.” Ben tried with moderate success to
squelch a round of excited giggles as Wes swam off to get his dino
float.
Lex's tickle-attack ended in a truce and a
kiss. Lex turned in Clark's leisurely embrace and leaned against
him. "Uh oh," Clark said quietly in Lex's ear. "Ben and Wes are
headed this way. Smiling. Big smiles."
Lex looked toward the edge of the float as
the boys neared on their rafts. He recognized mischief instantly.
“Uh oh, is right," he said, but that was as far as he got. Next
thing he knew, he and his lovers were being Super Soakered. He heard
gales of giggles and then the traitorous laughter of his older sons,
as well.
Clark was laughing so hard his side hurt. “I
know two boys who are going to get it.” Two enormous squeals
preceded Clark's dive into the lake by only seconds as the boys
began frantically paddling their dinos. “I’m going to get you
two!”
Ben was laughing and screaming. “No, Poppy!
No!” He fell off his float and tried to swim back to the raft.
“Papa!” But was met by Lex.
Wes soon found himself in his Poppy’s arms.
“Poppy!” Wes tried to wiggle away from Clark but could not manage
it.
Whit walked over and jumped in the lake near
Philip and Hamilton. “Hi, boys.” Philip and Hamilton both started to swim away
screaming that Wes and Ben started it. In moments all seven of them
were splashing each other and laughing. Ben climbed back on his
float and Clark helped Wes back on his. Clark heard laughter from
the deck that protruded from the shore. “Come and join the fun!” he
called.
Jonathan and Martha waved him off, but sat
down in the shaded pavilion. Martha waved at the boys. “Did you win
against your parents?”
Philip swam to the deck and climbed up. “No,
they cheated.” He ran over to the deck's springboard and did a
summersault into the water.
All the boys splashed and played, enjoying a
day of fun in water and with their parents. Whitney and Clark helped
Ben and Wes with their swim strokes. Lex was teaching Hamilton how
to dive without doing a belly flop. Philip kept trying to do a swan
dive, but it was not working.
It was a perfect summer day.
When Rachel heard the boys screaming bloody
murder, her first and only instinct was to get to them as quickly as
possible. Logically, she knew that they had their own private
security force protecting them -- not to mention three devoted
fathers and several sets of doting grandparents -- but logic had
nothing to do with instinct. Those first high pitched squeals sent
Rachel sprinting off the riding/hiking trail she'd been exploring
and up a beautifully manicured rise of lawn.
By the time she reached the top of the hill,
it was clear the screams were all in fun, and she ground to a halt,
relieved, and only a little out of breath. She made a mental note to
start rising an hour earlier so she could get back to her normal
regimen of an early-morning jog.
For now, though, she settled for edging into
the shade of a sprawling maple tree and took in the scene below her.
She was near the edge of a pristine lake with an anchored raft in
the center and a jetty on the opposite shore. The pavilion, designed
like ship sails fully unfurled, extended into the lake at the end of
the jetty, and Rachel smiled at the sight of the four boys and their
fathers cavorting in the water. Mr. and Mrs. Kent were meandering
down a path that led from the castle that loomed majestically in the
distance.
It was the perfect picture of a pastoral
summer day in paradise.
Philip was climbing onto the jetty,
preparing to dive. Whitney levered himself out of the water onto the
right side of the raft; someone gave Lex Luthor a boost onto the
raft from the left side. Laughing, Whitney walked across the raft,
squatted beside Luthor, talked for a moment, then gave the
newly-declared Senatorial candidate a kiss. Rachel was too far away
to see any real detail in the kiss, but she could tell it was
full-on-the-mouth and looked sweetly romantic. It lasted until an
arm snaked up out of the water, grabbed Fordman, and toppled him
into the water.
There was shrieking and laughing from the
boys, then Clark Kent propelled himself effortlessly onto the deck
next to Luthor and pulled him into an obviously comical but
unquestionably real embrace. As they kissed, Fordman splashed them
from the water, laughing and shouting and motioning for the boys to
come join him.
The feeling of being an interloper prompted
Rachel to her feet and she slipped off down the hill. To say that
she was confused was an understatement. For weeks, she had been
mystified by the "family" structure, unable to figure out who was
biologically related to whom, nor could she find a conventional
reason for what might have brought the three "fathers" together in
the first place when clearly only two of the men could have had
biological relationship to the twins.
A sexual relationship between Luthor and one
of the others had seemed a likely possibility, but it had never
occurred to her that he might be involved with both Fordman and Kent.
Rachel tried to decide how she felt about
this revelation. Shocked? Well, marginally, yes. Revolted? Not in
the least -- the boys were receiving too much love and support for
her to find anything wrong with the relationship. But as for what
the future held...that was another matter entirely. Luthor was
embarking on a career in politics while harboring a secret that
could -- if revealed -- have devastating impact on the lives of the
four children he called his "sons."
No wonder they kept the boys isolated.
Aug 21, Metropolis
“Look Jimmy, maybe you need to go to New
York, find Chloe Sullivan, and interview her there,” Lois told Jimmy
in one of the conference rooms.
Jimmy sighed and tried to think of why he
wanted this job in the first place. “Lois, I’ve called her and sent
emails. I can’t make her answer me.”
Lois began thrumming her fingers on the
table. “Which is why I want you to go to New York and talk to her in
person. She is the only lead we have on the Fordman front, and the
fact that it seems important makes me crazy! I have to cover the
campaign but YOU are free to follow this lead. Hell, even that
Armitage person still has not gotten back to me!”
Jimmy listened to Lois rant some more, but
he had no clue how to find one person in a city of 13 million. “So
you just want me to fly to New York and wander around looking for
this girl.”
Lois calmed down for a second and handed
Jimmy a piece of paper. “She requested a recommendation. This is her
final year of grad school at Columbia. Use that address as a lead
and find her. I need to know if she has any clues or knows why
information about Smallville’s past is so hard to find.”
Jimmy looked at the address, then at the
plane ticket Lois was waving in front of him. “I take it that I’m
going to New York.”
Lois did not respond, but just walked out of
the room. It was a slow news day and the fact that Lex’s opponent
for the nomination had dropped out of the primary was not helping
much either. Lex was going to be the Democratic nominee and would
square off against Jacob Fromm.
She was already covering the campaign, but
Lex was simply visiting various rallies across the state to get the
Democrats out to vote during the primaries. Lois wanted to get an
interview with Sen. Fromm, but he was not available, since the
Senate’s August recess was being held up due to a number of bills,
including fourteen funding authorizations that needed approval.
“Will Labor Day ever get here?” The traditional starting point of
the fall campaign was when she hoped the sparks would begin to fly.
Current polls had Luthor up ten points, but with ten percent of the
voters still undecided, it could be a very close horserace.
Eliot Armstrong was crucial to Lex’s
campaign. The popular Mayor of Metropolis had a strong ground
organization, and Lex's campaign staff had been preaching that "turn
out" would be the key to Lex's victory. Lex wanted to tap the
resources of the Mayor's organization. “Mayor Armstrong." Lex
greeted him with a smile and a handshake as he was ushered into the
mayor's office.
Eliot smiled and gestured for Lex to sit.
“Lex. Congratulations. I see that you are the nominee now.”
"Yes, but the next one won't be so easy."
Lex leaned back in his chair. “Eliot, let’s get right to it. I was
one of your biggest supporters when you first got in the race three
years ago.”
The Mayor nodded. “And you have been my key
ally the entire time. I’ve heard that the Governor is not happy that
you're running.”
“He and I disagree on just about everything.
Why should this be any different?” Lex stopped for a second. “Eliot,
I am going to need your organization here in Metropolis. The other
key groups will follow your lead.”
“I will help in any way I can, Lex. I have a
lot of faith in what you can do for the state of Kansas. Let me make
a few calls -- I'll have my people get in contact your campaign.
Anything I should know?”
"Yes." Lex stood and shook Eliot’s hand.
“Washington does not want me to win. It might be a nasty
campaign.”
Eliot followed Lex to the door. “Of this I
have no doubt. I’ll see you in a few.”
Aug 23, Istanbul
Damien did not enjoy international flights;
they were too long and too cramped. Regardless, this was no pleasure
trip, it was all business. The ancient capital of a long forgotten
empire, Istanbul was a city of many cultures. The Greek influence
was still around, but Islamic and Turkish influences were far more
prevalent. The city had been chosen as a meeting place because
Istanbul was close to Russia and Damien could get there with ease.
Walking down a narrow street, he turned down an alley towards a café
that he had been told was excellent. The sun was setting, creating
deep shadows across the city.
“Mr. Parker, a pleasure to see you again.”
Damien looked up at a man in his thirties,
middling height, with a slight accent. “Kirov, please have a
seat.”
Vitaly Kirov was a Russian Syndicate boss.
He had deep connections into the government and used them to his
advantage. “Well Damien, are you responsible for turning Panama into
a hornet’s nest?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Vitaly’s eyes narrowed. “My friend, do not
insult me by thinking I would not recognize Russian armaments after
they have been expended. What you do in Panama is your business --
until the Americans begin asking questions. Then it becomes my
business. That damned Monroe Doctrine has been letting them treat
the Western Hemisphere like a backyard for two centuries now.”
Damien was not interested in a history
lesson. “Thank you, but all I need from you now is a delivery
schedule and price.”
Kirov pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and
took a deep drag. “You are asking for enough weapons to field two
battalions, correct?”
Damien waved a hand in front of him to clear
the air. “Yes. Do we have a deal?”
“We have a deal, but for such a large
shipment it will require time for you to take full delivery. I would
estimate two months.”
Damien knew better than to expect a miracle,
but he wanted them far sooner. “As soon as you can get them to us.”
Damien left a wad of Euros on the table and departed. He wanted to
return home quickly. He did not like to leave Dr. Corbeau alone for
any length of time. Some of his more radical experiments had been
disasters and Damien did not need any more issues on his plate.
New
York
Jimmy was walking around Columbia University
heading towards the building that housed the Journalism Department.
He had a few leads on where to locate Chloe Sullivan, but was in no
hurry to follow them. This was the first chance he'd had to get away
from Lois in weeks. She was driving him nuts. If he was lucky, Chloe
Sullivan would be hard to find. Very hard to find.
Jimmy had only been to New York once before
and Columbia had not been on that trip. Now, he was enjoying
exploring the campus. It was early in the day, and he had a few
hours before he would knock on Chloe Sullivan’s apartment door.
Bobby Drake was watching a mindless movie
when there was a knock on the door. “Yes?”
The lean, dark-haired stranger gave Bobby a
bright, friendly smile. “Excuse me, but is Chloe Sullivan here?”
Bobby knew better than to be taken in by a
friendly smile. “And you are?”
“Sorry, I’m Jimmy Olsen and I work for the
Daily Planet. I need to speak with Ms.
Sullivan please?”
Bobby looked at Jimmy for a second. “She is
not here right now.”
"When do you expect her back?"
Bobby laughed. "With Chloe, you don't expect
anything. Every day is a surprise."
Jimmy took out a card and pen and scribbled
his hotel number on the back of it. He handed the card to Bobby.
“I'll be at the hotel for another day, or she can call me at the
Planet in Metropolis. Can you please have her call me when she gets
home?”
Bobby was skeptical, but accepted the card.
“I’ll let her know.”
Olsen left and Bobby added the business card
to the small stack of messages that had started piling up the day
after Chloe accepted Whitney Fordman's job offer. Any mystery was
enough to send Chloe into a world all her own, but this was
different. Bobby had never been to Metropolis, but he knew that
Chloe missed the city. And her friends. This was a special
assignment and she wouldn't let go of it until she had the answers
her friend was looking for. This Jimmy Olsen guy could have a very
long wait.
“Ah, Chloe, I hope you don’t get in too
deep.”
Aug 26,
Metropolis
Lionel walked into the Chairman’s Office for
the first time as his. As a guest, he had sat and talked with Lex
dozens of times over the years, but it felt different now. It had
been eight years since he'd been at the helm of a Fortune 500
company, and his ambitions for being the best had already been
achieved -- by his son. Lionel wasn't sure what that left for
him.
He traced the contours of the desk and
looked at the view of downtown. “And I wanted to come back to this
why?”
“Because you have the ability to maintain
control in the face of uncertainty.”
Lionel turned and saw Tristan framed in the
door. “Quite an endorsement. Thank you. How are you faring?”
Tristan walked in and stood next to Lionel.
“Concerned and excited. So much is in flux right now. The whole
family risks much.”
Lionel directed his gaze over the skyline.
“I believe one thing with all my soul now, Tristan. We are the
guardians of the future."
"The boys?"
Lionel nodded. "And the rest of us, too.
There is much at risk and much to gain. Our counsel of caution these
last few years has been nothing more than a way of buying time, but
that period is now coming to a close.”
Tristan walked to the door, but stopped and
turned back. “Events have been set in motion and we have no idea how
they will end.”
"Exactly. " Lionel faced Tristan. “The great
Chinese curse ‘May you live in interesting
times’ seems to be appropriate. I’ll be down in a few minutes
for the meeting.”
Aug 31,
Smallville
Lex was watching the returns from the
Primary on the Internet. The election was a formality, but one that
had to be completed. Most of the counties were reporting, and it was
a huge victory, but against no opponent. The Get Out the Vote
efforts had paid off well, but now the main event was coming up.
None of the news stations were showing the results, but Lex was
getting information. Keith and Alice would be up all night studying
the key data for trends.
“My love, come to bed. You can look at the
results just as easily there.”
Lex looked up Clark leaning against the
doorframe. “Yes, but you and Whit would distract me. I tend to get
nothing done when I try to work in the bedroom.”
Clark walked in and kissed the crown of his
head. “Well, I won’t beg, but I want to spend time with you before
you are gone for most of the week.”
Lex chuckled. “I have to win first, then we
can worry about all that stuff.”
Clark walked to the door and waggled his
hips. “Okay. I guess I'll ask Whitney to help give you a show…”
Lex grabbed the laptop and followed Clark
quickly. Nothing was worse for any of them than the sexual torture
of being left out.
Sept 2,
Metropolis
The sleek, black Lexus extended cabin SUV
rolled to Metropolis at seventy miles per hour. Philip and Hamilton
were sitting in the middle row; Wes and Ben in the back. A car was
following them, carrying two more bodyguards, even though the boys
did not think of them as such. They were excited because they were
heading to see the Royals play the New York Yankees. The season was
beginning to wind down and the boys had been promised that they
could see a few games live. They were meeting their grandparents at
the stadium and then would have dinner at the Manor in Metropolis
and spend the night before returning to Smallville the next day.
Hamilton and Ben wanted to sit on the front
row of the Owner’s Suite seats. Philip was inside the Suite watching
the game on the monitor, chatting with Uncle Nick about how much
money Minerva had. Wes was sitting next to Jonathan right behind his
brothers, yelling at the people to hurry up. Elsa was sitting on the
other side of Hamilton, trying to devise a plan to get a ball hit to
her.
"Are you sure your Grandpa Jonathan can't
just order one of the batters to hit it to me?"
Hamilton sighed and shook his head. His
Grandpa Jon was right: Women and baseball just did not mix. "No,
Elsa. It doesn't work that way."
“But, Hamilton, I want a baseball,” Elsa
whined as she finished the last of her ice cream. She saw her Daddy
and got up to ask him for a baseball.
Jonathan was pointing out the flags hanging
around the stadium, symbolizing the great victories in Royals’
history.
“Well, Philip, you know the family is very
wealthy and much of that is based on Minerva, but not all,” Nick was
telling his nephew.
Philip stopped eating his popcorn and cocked
his head. “But isn’t Papa’s company doing things no one else
is?”
Lionel had been chatting with Anne and
Martha across the room and heard Philip’s question. “Philip, enjoy
the game. Trust me, Minerva will be doing exciting things for years
to come. There's plenty of time for you to get involved when you get
older. For now, have fun.”
"Yes, Grandpa." Philip nodded and smiled.
"Did you like baseball when you were my age, Uncle Nick?"
"Oh, sure. In fact, I played Little League
until I was twelve,” Nick said as he reached for a handful of
Philip's popcorn.
Philip frowned. "What's Little League?"
Lionel's head whipped round, shooting a
death ray at Nick, who closed his eyes and shook his head. How could
he have been so stupid? Given the security risks involved and the
campaign just starting, enrolling the boys in the Smallville Little
League was the last thing the trio needed. "Well--"
Lionel intervened. "Little League is one of
several forms of municipally sponsored intramural sports engaged in
by youth of lesser means than you and your brothers."
Philip frowned as he picked out the words he
knew and tried to provide context to the ones he didn't.
"Intra-mural?"
"You can look it up when you get home
tomorrow," Lionel decreed with a finality that ended the discussion.
"Yes, Grandpa," Philip said without much
enthusiasm.
"Come on, kiddo," Nick said, giving him a
hug. "Let's go watch the game from the seats. That's what coming to
a game means, you know. No TV. No sportscaster, just pure baseball."
He guided Philip outside and they settled into seats behind
Jonathan, who was explaining why the Yankees disliked the Royals so
much.
Philip was antsy and kept looking over his
shoulder at his grandpa Lionel and his grandmothers. It wasn't long
before he was out of his seat and back in the Suite. He approached
his grandfather hesitantly.
Martha saw him fidgeting. "What's wrong,
Philip?"
"May I speak with Grandfather, please?"
Lionel turned to him. "Of course you may
speak with me, Philip. What is it?"
"I believe that the prefix 'intra' means
'within', and I'm not sure what the Greek root word is for 'mural,'
but murals are paintings on walls, so I would guess that
'intramural' means within the walls of something."
Lionel smiled broadly. "That is an amazing
feat of deductive reasoning, Philip. I'm very proud of you."
"Proud enough to tell me what Little League
is?"
The three grandparents’ surprised, delighted
laughter rolled through the Suite.
"He's got you, Lionel," Anne murmured around
her chuckles.
"Yes, I recognize a corner when I'm painted
into it," Lionel replied dryly. He patted the seat next to him and
Philip climbed on. "Philip, do you know what the Major League
is?"
"Of course."
"Well, Little League is like the major
leagues for children, played on a local level."
Philip's eyes got as round as saucers. "You
mean, Little League is baseball for kids?"
"Yes."
"Like me and Hamilton and Ben and Wes? Cool!
Does Smallville have a Little League?"
"Well, I expect it's likely--"
"Way Cool! Hamilton! Guess what?" Philip
shouted, jumping out of his seat and darting out to his brothers in
the box. "We can play baseball and be on TV and win the World Series
and everything! I'm gonna play shortstop. What are you gonna
be?"
Lionel sagged back. "Oh, I am in so much
trouble."
Smallville
The rainforest section of the Conservatory
was astonishing – a complete eco-system in miniature. Rachel
strolled through, trying to enjoy it on an aesthetic level, but all
she saw were lessons for the boys. "Relax, Rachel. Lighten up. Take
a day off," she advised herself.
This was the start of a long weekend for
her, but being new to Smallville, she had no idea what to do with
her spare time. Truthfully, she'd been so absorbed in the boys that
she'd never even been into town. She didn't even have a car to take
her there, although she was certain she could find transportation if
necessary. "I should buy a car," she muttered, then shook her
head.
"But first I should stop talking to myself
and get a life."
"A good first step would be talking to
me."
Rachel's heart nearly stopped and her legs
felt a tad unsteady as she whirled to find a man she had met shortly
after her arrival, but couldn't quite place. He was fit, handsome,
probably close to 40, and he had an amused twinkle in his eye that
made her feel slightly less embarrassed. "Is stealth training a
requirement to work here?"
The eye-twinkle broadened into a
full-fledged smile. "It is in my job."
She placed him. Sort of. "You're with
security."
"In a manner of speaking, I'm Christian
Smith."
Rachel nodded. "I remember now. You are security." She paused. "What did I do
wrong?"
"Not a thing. We're having trouble with
corrosion in our sensors and I came in to assess the damage. Saw you
and thought I'd say hello."
"Hello."
"This is your first visit to the
Conservatory, isn't it?"
Rachel frowned. "Don't take this the wrong
way, Mr. Smith, but exactly how closely are my movements within the
Palace and grounds monitored?"
Chris laughed. "The look of awe on your face
gave you away. I don't have a database somewhere that tells me what
time you get up and what you have for breakfast."
"Glad to hear it. But you didn't answer my
question."
"Hmmm... Noticed that, did you?"
"I'm quick that way," Rachel quipped,
turning to move on down the path. Chris joined her.
"Motion sensors keep track of movement
outside and in public areas of the Palace and Villa. If we want to
know who is registering in a particular area, we have to turn on the
security cameras."
"That's a relief. I'd hate to think that
everyone knew about the mariachi band I smuggled into my quarters
last week."
"So that's
where that music was coming from!" Chris quipped, and they both
laughed. Rachel liked the sound of it. She also liked the security
man's accent and the aura of absolute calm that radiated from him.
The meandering trail led to a set of steps
in natural stone, and as they reached the bottom, the air changed.
The humidity dropped, making it feel cooler despite the brightening
light, and the rainforest suddenly gave way to a sea of roses.
"Oh, my."
"Quite a sight, isn't it? Mrs. Fordman
and Mrs. Kent tend these and the gardens outside the Library and the
Lovers’ Tower. They love roses. Mrs. Kent would like to tend the
orchards, as well, but Mr. Kent, senior, has long said no.” Chris
motioned for Rachel to follow. “Let me give you a tour.”
“Thank you. How long have you worked
here?”
Chris smiled at her as they walked along the
wild roses. “I’ve been here since the beginning, I suppose. This
part of the Conservatory was not yet built when I was hired. In
fact, I started before people even moved back in after the first
major renovation.”
Rachel paused and bent to smell a blue rose
that stood apart from the rest. Not surprisingly, the scent was as
rare as the color. "You're the one I've heard referred to as 'the Spymaster,' aren't you?" she asked
without looking at him.
"Yes, well... Everybody needs a nickname and
that one was preferable to Sparky."
Rachel laughed. When she straightened, she
met his gaze dead on. "There are a lot of secrets here, aren't
there, Sparky?"
His gaze never wavered. "And it's not my
place to tell you any of them."
He turned and Rachel followed as he led them
through a huge door into the formal gardens outside. She looked back
and saw they were at least 400 yards from the Palace. “Amazing. If
you can't tell me any secrets, what can you tell me?”
Chris began pointing. “The Greenhouse and
Conservatory are a marvel of modern engineering." He sounded like a
professional tour guide. All he needed were a microphone, a trolley
car, and a flat little hat. "The windows that let in the light are
hidden between the trees and bushes down here until the pavilion.
There are many more varieties of plants in the underground
sections.”
Rachel laughed as they walked. She saw what
was known as the Lovers’ Tower, the stand alone four story tower on
a hill. “That wasn't exactly what I meant. What can you tell me
about the family?”
Chris pointed to the Tower. “The Tower sits
on the above-ground garage. It's three miles from here to the front
gates, but few use that way to gain entry to the estate now.” He
looked over and saw her frown. “Ms. Amstead, there is far more going
on here than you, or even I, know. The amount of wealth controlled
from this compound is stunning. Staggering,
even. Some of the things they do with that money is worthy of
monuments. All I can say for sure, they love each other, a fairy
tale love and it is wonderful to see people who have it.”
"They..." Rachel murmured. "Lex, Whitney and
Clark. The three of them are...together?"
"If you'll notice their rings sometime,
you'll see everything you need to know."
Not Lex and Clark and Lex and Whitney, but a
triad. That was the question that had been plaguing her since that
day at the lake. "And the boys carry a surname of...?"
"Luthor-Fordman-Kent."
"And their biological mother or
mothers?"
"I wouldn't know about that. The twins were
brought home and presented to the family as fait accompli." He studied her closely.
"Does all of this bother you?"
"Bother me? No. Of course not. But the
relationship is unorthodox, and with Mr. Luthor entering the
political arena, it will eventually become common knowledge. Only an
ostrich would believe that it won't have an impact on the lives of
these boys as they grow up and begin interacting with the real
world."
"This world is
real, Rachel."
"Yes, but it's only 7.6 square miles."
"Just wait."
What did he know? Rachel wondered. What
plans did the wealthiest family in the known universe have in store
for the rest of the world?
It was too big a question to contemplate,
but Rachel realized that she was very glad to be along for the ride.
The boys were a pure joy, and the family she had observed that day
at the lake--
Ah. A light suddenly dawned. Now she
knew why the head of security for entire complex had stopped to pass
the time of day. And why he was being so forthcoming about the
family he worked for. "You know I was out walking by the lake that
day," she accused.
"Yes."
"It wasn't my intention to spy."
"I know that. With the entire family out
there, we had full electronic security hot for a quarter mile around
the perimeter of the lake. I know you heard one of the kids
screaming and without a second's hesitation ran to help. Ms.
Amstead, I have trained security personnel who don't react that
instinctively without regard for their own welfare."
Rachel was speechless. He was making her
sound positively heroic. She didn't think she was, but she found
that she didn't mind having Christopher Smith think so. She was
stunned when he continued, "By the way, I passed that information on
to my employers. I thought they should know that they had hired
loyalty and courage right along with all that intelligence and
passion for education. And beauty," he added as an afterthought that
seemed to surprise him almost as much as it did Rachel.
"Th-thank you," she stammered.
"You're welcome." He grinned. "You know,
Rachel, if you were serious earlier about buying a car, I'd be happy
to give you some new car buying tips. Or you could just let me take
you into town for dinner tonight."
"Ummm... Yes. Thank you. Of course." Rachel
felt like she'd just been asked to the senior prom. It really was
imperative that she get a life. It had been too long. She stopped
stumbling over her words and tried to remember how to flirt. "I
would love to have dinner with you. Sparky."
Sept 3, New
York
Chloe was exhausted. She knew taking the job
from Whitney would be stressful, but she hadn't known it would be
next to impossible. She was no closer to finding an answer to his
problem than she was when she had first looked at the files. All she
really wanted now was some sleep; traveling between Boston, Chicago,
and Atlanta for the past two weeks had drained her. On top of that,
she would have to make up for the classes she had missed while out
looking for Whitney’s information. Thankfully her advisor thought
she was one of the most gifted students to come through the program
and had allowed Chloe the opportunity to do the traveling.
"Hey doll, you look like warmed over death,"
Bobby said as he slid next to her in their bed.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Drake."
Chloe spoke mostly to the pillow, but the warm body snuggling
against her was relaxing.
"Hate to interrupt your
semi-unconsciousness, but some guy from the Daily Planet showed up at the door asking
for you. It was a few days ago and unlike me, he couldn't hang
around waiting for you forever. He called and left a message that he
was returning to Metropolis. Wants you to call him ASAP."
Bobby's tone made Chloe sit up. "Really? Did
he say what he needed?"
Bobby handed her the business card. "No,
only that it was important." Bobby headed out the door. "I have
class, I'll see you tonight. Missed you doll, I’ll make us dinner
and treat you to a massage."
Chloe heard the door close and laid on her
pillows, staring at the ceiling. 'I wonder
what he could possibly want?' She passed out from exhaustion
before she had a chance to speculate.
Chloe sat upright and saw that five hours
had passed. It was almost mid-afternoon. Her body ached from
sleeping in an awkward position. She looked over and saw the card on
the bedspread. She recalled her conversation with Bobby and decided
to find out what this person from the Planet wanted. She dialed and
waited for an answer.
"Jimmy Olsen."
Chloe thought he sounded young. "This is
Chloe Sullivan. You came by my apartment?"
"Ms. Sullivan! Oh. Uh, thank you for
calling. I am a photographer for the Daily Planet."
Chloe was taken aback. "Photographer?"
"Yeah. I was sent to ask you about some
strange happenings back in Smallville. It seems you put together
some information that's now missing."
Chloe suddenly became wary. She remembered
Clark telling her of the raid on the depository of the meteor rocks.
She had become cautious in the face of that knowledge and removed
the archives of the 'freaks' from the Torch's online database. She
still had them, but did not want that information to get out. "Why
do you ask about that now? As far as I know, it's been so long since
anything freakish has happened in Smallville."
Jimmy heard the distance in her voice and
knew that it would be a mistake to push her too hard.. "Just looking
at various items involving the Luthor family."
Chloe had seen the news about Lex's race for
the Senate, but had been unable to think about it in the face of her
own investigation. "Not much to say about them, they own half the
county by now."
"Actually, I was looking into his
friendships and the affection that Smallville feels for him. And his
relationship with the Fordman family."
Chloe's guard was up even further now. "What
relationship?"
Jimmy knew something was there; her tone was
too defensive. "That's what I'm hoping someone can tell me. Along
with that missing information about Smallville's past."
"Mr. Olsen, I'll have to get back to you on
that. I have no idea where to find that information." Chloe hung up
the phone and tried to get her thoughts in order.
Bryan Armitage was looking out over the
Manhattan skyline from his office in the Chrysler Building. On the
desk behind him were reports for the company he helped run, Atlas
Insurance. The hurricane that had hit near Victoria, TX, was going
to cost his company over a billion dollars. Nothing that they did
not have, but it might require some divestment of assets. Atlas
owned a large chunk of Wayne Industries and that was how he held his
Board seat. He was also a member of the pragmatic group that did not
like Bruce's flights of fancy. It had taken considerable
arm-twisting and favor-mongering, but Bryan had managed to get one
of the Wayne seats on the Minerva board. That was when he learned
just how tightly controlled Minerva was. He had used Atlas resources
to try to get some leverage in Minerva but it had been for naught.
"One hundred million dollars worth of stock in that company and it
still doesn't get you the time of day!"
He'd come to hate working on that board.
Bill Ross, Whitney and Tristan Fordman, Martha Kent, Lex and Lionel
Luthor, and Nick Brady all combined to control every facet of that
company. Donovan Watkins was the sole remaining member from the old
Luthor Corp board, and he was a Luthor-man all the way. Even with
Lex gone, the others held a plurality of stock. Wayne's ten percent
the next highest, but after that it was decimal percentages only. It
was impossible to get a voting block together to oppose the Luthor
block; no one had the ability to coordinate so many small groups.
Even if he wanted to launch a coup, Bryan was not the only Wayne
seat on the Board, and thus his vote was a mere five percent. The
other vote was held by Bruce Wayne himself, and that placed Bryan's
opposition in a delicate position.
With all the confidentiality agreements
concerning Minerva research and product lines, Bryan could not spill
secrets without ending up in court and losing everything. On the day
of the Gala, he had called Perry White to tip him off about a big
press conference. He was the one who suggested an investigative
journalist. He'd sought out Lois Lane at the party, but had been
hesitant to return her calls. The Luthors' power knew few bounds and
Bryan did not want to be on the receiving end of retribution. Lex in
the Senate was something that boded ill for so many. Lionel at the
helm was already creating a panic on Wall Street. One of the great
Sharks of the Nineties was back and had billions of dollars to
direct towards those who opposed Minerva. Lex was respected on the
Street, but Lionel was feared. All that money and power would create
a new center around which people would gravitate.
Bryan had seen it at the party -- the
fawning of the American Elite. The only way to stop this was to
unleash the press and to let everyone know about the Luthor family.
Sept 6,
Smallville - Labor Day
Whitney looked over at the clock and saw
that it was still early. The boys would sleep for another hour at a
minimum. Just enough time.... Sliding over, he ran his hand over
Clark’s bare chest, feeling the few hairs that covered his sternum.
He pulled his body to spoon with Clark’s, gently kissing the nape of
his neck. He heard the murmur from Clark and continued to rub
against him. Whit loved early morning sex, it was a great way to
begin the day.
Lex felt Clark stir next to him, heard the
tell tale murmur, and moved closer to Clark. He saw Whitney’s hand
moving along that sculpted chest. Lex wanted to laugh at Clark, who
was trying to hide his smile, still pretending to be asleep.
//Faker...// Lex slipped his hand inside Clark’s shorts while
placing a kiss on his slightly parted lips. The hitch in Clark’s
breathing was all Lex needed to hear to keep going.
Clark felt Whitney’s naked body against his
when Lex began to feel him and kiss him. He returned the kiss and
arched back into Whitney’s body. He could feel his shorts being
pulled off but didn’t care. The boys were still sound asleep and
that was good enough. His hand slipped down to free his shorts from
his ankles and that allowed Whitney’s cock to rub against his hole.
“Oh!”
Whitney continued to rub Clark’s chest and
kiss his neck and shoulders. He could feel the kiss in front of him,
but he was intent on fucking Clark. Reaching to the compartment in
the headboard, he placed a dollop of lubricant on his fingers and
brought them down to Clark’s ass. After a few tender ministrations,
Whitney slipped inside.
Lex swallowed Clark’s moan as Whitney
penetrated Clark. Lex wrapped his hand around Clark’s swollen cock,
slowly jacking it. Clark did the same for him while the kiss became
deep and more frantic.
Lex arched his hips into Clark’s grip,
letting that large warm hand pleasure him. The moment Clark bit his
neck, Lex came hard into that hand and felt Clark spew all over his.
Clark loved being in the middle, it made his
day perfect. He was coming the moment Lex lost it and felt Whitney
shoot a moment or two later. “Good morning to the both of you as
well.” Clark turned as Whitney slipped free and kissed him. “Nice
way to wake up.”
Whitney chuckled and kissed Clark again and
then leaned over him to kiss Lex. He pulled back, resting partially
on top of Clark. “Ready for your big day, Lex?”
Lex sighed, stood up, and headed to the
bathroom. “The kids will be up shortly.” That got everybody moving
for the day.
Metropolis
Lois walked toward Market Square, where Lex
was hosting a Labor Day Rally. It was his first big event since he
officially became the nominee. She saw all the banners and the
poster proclaiming Lex to be ‘Tomorrow’s Leader Today.' It was
annoying. ’This is the fluff part of
covering a campaign, I want to get to the heart of the story!’
Jimmy had told her about his conversation with Chloe Sullivan and
that made her mad as well. ’There is
something I am missing and I am going to find out what it is!’
Lois really wanted to be in Topeka, covering
Sen. Fromm’s Labor Day speech. It was being billed as the 'People’s
rally’ giving the impression that Lex Luthor was not a person.
The Mayor take the podium to a rousing
ovation, and Lois got her recorder ready without much enthusiasm. “
I guess that means that the Mayor is supporting Lex in his run for
the Senate.” She grew bored as the mayor went on and on about
Lex, and she was enormously relieved when the candidate finally took
the podium. She couldn't deny that he had charisma. “The man is a
natural in this element. HAVE to find a way to get an
interview.”
“Happy Labor Day folks! I am Lex Luthor and
I will be the next Senator from the great state of Kansas!” Lex
paused for the applause to subside. “We look to a future where
government responds to the will of the people, not special
interests. My opponent and his friends are going to make a huge
issue of my money. Ask yourselves now; where did he get his? In
this, trust me, I can’t be bought.”
Lois groaned but was amazed at the tactic.
'He is using his wealth to blunt attacks by
Fromm and turning the issue around on him.’ She listened as Lex
outlined what he wanted for the future of Kansas. ‘Get a speechwriter will you?’
“This campaign is not about what we know, it
is about what we do not know. It is about how we tackle the
challenges we don’t see. It is about finding ways to do more with
less. I am about innovation and pragmatism. My opponents favorite
word is ’No.’ Now, that is not someone I want trying to find
solutions to the problems we see and don’t see. Thank you and have a
great holiday.”
Lois looked around and wanted to guess that
at least fifty thousand people were here at the rally. She lifted
her recorder, “Remember to ask Metro PD for an estimate on turn
out.” She turned and headed back to the office. With any luck
she might get to hear what Fromm had to say.
Topeka
Jacob was watching Lex’s speech and was
ready to strangle someone. “I can’t believe he just equated me with
Special Interests!” Jacob began to pace back and forth. He was
appointed and had little credibility with the voting public. He had
never dealt with the public face-to-face but he knew how to get
things done behind the scenes. The most important thing he brought
to the table was loyalty to the President and not to the Majority
Leader.
“Sir, you are on in fifteen minutes,” an
aide called from the door.
“Thank you.” Jacob gathered his composure
and headed to the stands. He was not going to go down without a
fight.
Washington
Dick Simons was watching the speeches from
Kansas and could not believe that Lex had already taken the fight to
Jacob Fromm. He looked at John Norris and shook his head. “Polls
already indicate a shift in how the voters are thinking. You need to
head out there and take over the Fromm campaign.”
“We don’t have much to go on. Attacking
Luthor’s inexperience leaves Fromm wide open to the same
charge.”
“Do what you have to do, but remember that
he has resources that you do not!” Dick looked up and saw Henry
Gyrich at his door. “Call when you get to Kansas. If Fromm gives you
any trouble, have him call me.” Dick waited for Norris to leave
before waving Gyrich in. “Yes, Mr. Gyrich?”
“Sir, Panama is moving over two thousand
troops to their northern border. Even after Iron Man and Hawkeye
went looking, they found nothing except a few rounds. They examined
them and found them to be Russian. So that did not help in the
least.”
Dick looked over some notes and saw that
Fromm was having trouble reaching his core constituency. “Contact
Valerie Cooper and see if the Avengers will keep a member on
station. What does NSA have to say about the country’s
stability?”
Henry’s face turned to stone. “Many of the
Panamanians are frightened and at the same time see their neighbors
getting wealthier and want to be part of it. Another raid and there
will be protests and further destabilization.”
Dick nodded. “Contact Cooper, we need the
Avengers’ help."
Raven looked over her notes and could not get figure out why the
armor’s cooling systems would not work properly. Gen. Thames was
clear that he wanted this program operational before the end of
summer and that was now here. “FUCK!” She ran through the
calculations again and could not see the problem.
“Hey there. You looked stressed,” Valerie
Cooper called from the open door.
Raven Darkholm smiled and motioned for Val
to sit. “Only have to make the impossible work in a short time.”
Val laughed. “I guess that is the problem we
both face. Sometimes I wonder why I took this job.”
“Same reason I did, because it was available
and because we are good at what we do.” Raven shut down her computer
and motioned for Val to follow. “Let’s grab a drink and commiserate
over how horrible our bosses are.”
Val picked up her purse and followed,
knowing she could count on Raven to cheer her up.
Smallville
Clark had a small case in his hand. The
bracelets he and his loves had promised the boys were ready,
finally. Clark and the Keeper had gone back and forth over what
properties their bracelets should contain. The white jewels that the
trio's bracelet possessed allowed them full access to all the files
the Keeper had, as well as emergency teleportation to either the
Palace or to Antarctica. The black jewels worn by the rest of the
family were simple communications devices that allowed each member
to be tracked and contacted in an emergency. Selected members of the
staff and intelligence group wore jewels that were only tracking
devices.
The boys’ jewel looked like sapphire. All
the capabilities that the Triad held, the boys would, as well. The
Keeper had informed Clark that eventually the boys' mental abilities
would surpass anything Whitney and Lex wielded. The jewel would help
monitor those abilities as they became active. Clark stopped his
thoughts and walked into the playroom. Lex was showing Hamilton and
Ben how to plot a strategy at chess. Whitney was showing Philip and
Wes his baseball card collection.
Clark walked in. “Hi guys.”
//You have them?// Lex inquired.
//Yes. Ready?// Clark felt the agreement of
both of them. “Boys, sorry it took so long but I have your
bracelets.”
The boys cheered and crowded around Clark.
Whitney and Lex laughed and told them to sit down. Clark placed the
case on the table. Lex looked at his sons. “Boys, these are very
special, in the future they will be even more important.” One by one
each boy had a bracelet placed on his right wrist.
The overall response was somewhat
anticlimactic. The boys enthusiasm for the bracelets had been
replaced with another topic. “Papa, when do we get to play
baseball?” Philip asked.
Lex looked at Clark and Whitney. The topic
had been raised several times since the boys had attended the game
and learned about a thing called Little League. They'd had several
discussions, but had somehow managed to table the issue each time.
//Well?// Lex prompted.
Clark chuckled and sat down. “Boys, come
here.” As the boys gathered around, Clark sighed. //We knew we could
not keep them protected forever. Chris will have a conniption
fit.//
Whitney pulled Ben onto his lap as they all
settled in around each other. “In March, Philip and Hamilton may
sign up for Little League. Ben and Wes, you'll be signed up to play
what's called T-ball with other kids your age."
"But we want to play with Philip and
Hamilton!" Wes wailed.
Whitney crouched next to him. "Wes, Philip
and Hamilton may not even be on the same team. Those decisions are
made by the league officials."
The older twins exchanged concerned glances.
"But can't you tell them--"
"No," Clark said firmly. "One of the reasons
we want you boys to play is so that you can meet other kids your own
age, and also to get an understanding for the way the world works
outside the Palace grounds."
"There are rules for Little League that
you'll have to follow," Whitney added. "And the four of you may not
be playing together."
"We didn't know that," Hamilton said
gravely.
"Have you changed your mind about playing?"
Lex asked, unable to hide the hope.
Philip and Hamilton looked at each other,
then their fathers, shaking their heads in unison. "No. We want to
play," Philip said seriously. "We'll just have to figure out a way
to keep them from splitting us up."
This time it was the three fathers who
exchanged glances. This was going to be interesting.
"All right, then," Clark said, rising. "The
games begin next May."
"May!" The chorus came from all four
boys.
“Yes, but that's a good thing," Lex told
them. "It will give Poppy and Daddy plenty of time to teach you some
of the fundamental skills you'll need, and Grandpa Lionel has
graciously consented to teach you the rules."
It was a miracle, but Lex managed to keep a
straight face. Lionel's penance for his role in the "Little League
Debacle," as he called it, was to coach the boys on the rules of
Little League baseball and T-ball. But first he had to learn
them.
"YAY!" Another chorus went up as hugs and
backslaps and mini-high fives were exchanged. It was finally
Hamilton, though, who settled them all down. "We want to go to
another game," he announced. "We decided earlier."
The trio exchanged looks, but stopped when
Philip spoke. “In the World Series, if the Royals make it.”
Clark was dumbfounded. //Lex, I am going to
kill your father.//
Lex sighed. //Can’t, the kids love him.//
“If they make it to the World Series, then we will discuss it.”
The boys cheered as if they had already won
and went back to their activities. Whit rubbed his temples. //We are
so going to regret this.//
Sept 8, Smallville
Whitney was in his office going over his
notes for his next NAI phone call. "Chloe, I really need you to get
me some information, this is getting tough." He had heard through
two contacts at investment banks that pressure was being exerted to
call for a vote on the board. He was waiting for Nick and Jeff to
join him so he could begin to counter whatever was making so many
large holders skittish. Whitney looked up when Jeff and Nick walked
in. "Before we begin, Nick, what are Marauder's reserves?"
Nick sat down and pulled his laptop out of
his backpack. The sleek one inch thick computer was up in a flash,
and soon Nick had access to his database. "Assets are over six
hundred billion dollars. That excludes the cash-on-hand that we
have."
Jeff sat down and looked at Nick. "How much
cash?"
"A little over two hundred billion dollars
currently," Nick said with a smile. "But some of that is earmarked
for other things. I can't justify spending billions to save our
position in NAI."
Whitney smiled. "You realize that the only
people you answer to are Lex, Clark, and me?"
Nick saw the grin on Whitney's face. "Yes,
but I am allowed to manage the funds to the best of my ability."
Whitney laughed and hit his speed dial to
NAI headquarters in Boston. All three of them knew this phone call
was going to be long and frustrating, but a defense of their
property had to be launched.
Sept 10, New York
Bruce walked into the Hellfire Mansion he'd
joined with much reluctance. The idea of having so much information
available to him had just been too good to pass up. It was a Friday
night and the social season was beginning to rev up. There were less
than one hundred members present at the moment and Bruce was walking
through them casually listening to see if anything caught his ear.
"I heard that Lex Luthor is gaining momentum
in his race for the Senate."
Bruce heard this and turned to see the who
had made the comment. Someone he had never seen before. Bruce
lingered to hear more.
"Yes, but the White House is calling for
donations right and left to protect that seat."
Another unknown voice. "Their biggest
concern is Luthor retribution if he does lose. They don't want him
as a mortal enemy."
"Yes, I recall Dick Simons mentioning that
they are going to let the Press do all the dirty work for them."
"Good luck with that. The press has been
trying for years, but that town where he lives doesn't yield any of
its secrets. They don't have time to waste. I haven't seen much from
Lex Luthor yet, but once he moves into overdrive it will all be
over. Now the mutant situation is what really scares me."
Bruce continued his walk, but was interested
that the White House was looking at the Kansas race with such
intensity. He thought a call to Lex might be in order soon.
Chloe looked over all of the information she had gathered. North
American Imperial was a very widely held stock and a number of
mutual funds loved it as a haven in turbulent times. What was
curious was some of the stock was being purchased by shell
companies. Her research found layers of dead ends and fake
companies, and almost ten percent of the stock was now in these
hands. What amazed her was that Whitney held the single largest
chunk of the voting rights, but had not claimed any of the positions
inside the Board's key committees.
She took Whitney's warnings to heart and was
not doing anything too dangerous. It had not take her long to figure
out who at the institutional investor level controlled the proxies
and held the NAI stock. It was now a matter of figuring out if any
of them were involved with the move to takeover the company. "FUCK!"
Chloe suddenly realized that she had to work on her graduate thesis.
She had to turn in something to her advisor in three days. "Shit!"
Sept 12, Metropolis
Watching the Metropolis Praetorians mop up
the field with the Greenbay Packers gave Jacob Fromm a chilling
sense of just how much of an advantage Lex Luthor had over him.
Jacob was a sitting Senator, but Lex owned the Praetorians and had
built Metropolis Coliseum with his own money. That made him very
popular.
The Senator was in town to attend church
services and to rally his party to his cause. Washington was
beginning to panic, the latest polls had him slipping more than a
dozen points behind Luthor and Lex had yet to spend big bucks. He
looked at the TV again and saw the shot of the Owner's suite.
"Isn't that illegal for them to show that
arrogant bastard on TV?"
John Norris wondered for the umpteenth time
how Jacob had been appointed. "It is not illegal. He is the owner of
the team and it was a simple shot of him in the Owner's box. But it
illustrates the difficulties we are facing. He owns the Praetorians
and the Royals. The Royals are heading for the playoffs and if they
make the World Series, then the whole state will be focusing on his
team."
Jacob scowled. "We need to begin pointing
out that he has nothing in common with the citizens of the state. We
need to focus on me as a common man for the common good."
Norris smiled and realized that Jacob was
not going to be a liability. "An excellent slogan and it does play
as a nice wedge. It will force Luthor to defend his wealth and
background of privilege."
Jacob smiled and relaxed to watch the game.
"You know, all of these shots of him at games and his stadiums could
play for us as well. How hard is Luthor really willing to work for
the state?"
John nodded thoughtfully. "I'll get our
radio and print people to start getting those ideas moving. This
could be very good."
Sept 15, Smallville
The Smallville Ledger had to be the
unluckiest newspaper on earth. Established in 1939, the 71-year old
rag lost its entire archive of paper and microfiche back-issues --
not to mention its printing presses, computers, and editor-in-chief
-- when a meteor pancaked the office in 1989. In true never-say-die
tradition, the paper's owner hired a new editor and began all over
again. The re-building of the paper coincided with the blossoming of
the Internet, and the Ledger was one of the first papers in
the country to put its content online. Unfortunately, the site was
hosted on an in-house web server, and in 2004, a lightening strike
completely fried the server, destroying the paper's entire online
archive of news from 1989 to 2004.
Mysteriously -- no, impossibly -- that same
lightening strike somehow wiped out every data back up of the
website's content; and to add insult to injury, it also caused a
pipe to burst in the basement, flooding the archive of bound issues
and rendering most unreadable. The papers that had been salvaged
provided a less than complete picture of life in Smallville after
the meteor shower.
"If I was the suspicious type, I'd say
that someone wanted fifteen years of Smallville's history to
vanish," Jimmy Olsen thought with growing frustration. He'd
never realized that his job included becoming a research assistant,
but that was what he was now. He spent his days buried in the stacks
of moldy, bound newspapers at the Smallville Ledger,
looking for information on Lex Luthor and coming up with
next-to-nothing for the first few years of Luthor's residency in
Smallville.
It took hours just to unearth an old photo
of a bunch of people celebrating the opening of a coffeehouse called
the Talon in 2002. Luthor was part-owner, according to the moldy
text. Clark Kent was in the picture. So was a dark-haired cutie
named Lana Lang. Close to her side was a tall blond guy in a letter
jacket. The photo caption identified him as Whitney Fordman.
Jimmy's nights were a little more
productive. Hanging around a bar on the outskirts of town, he'd
learned of the Clark Kent and Lex Luthor friendship, which
apparently began -- again according to gossip -- when Kent saved Lex
from drowning after his Porsche went off a bridge. There had been
sniggering speculation that Kent and Luthor became lovers after that
event, but that was nothing compared to the scandal of All-State
Football hero Whitney Fordman being outed as Clark Kent's boyfriend
in 2002. That much, at least, Jimmy could prove after he found a
photo in the Ledger of Whitney and Clark dancing at a Prom,
which had been held, coincidentally, at the Luthor Mansion. They
looked happy in the picture.
A couple of the bar's regulars remembered
that after Whitney and Clark started dating, they went off with Lex
Luthor on a trip. One of them even claimed to have been one of the
day-workers Luthor had hired to cover Clark's farm chores while he
was away. Jimmy found him to be less than a reliable source, though,
because he claimed that Lex had hired ten men to do the
work of one teenage farm boy. He could not get confirmation, but
Hawaii seemed to have been the destination.
Other details of those early years
emerged... The Fordmans had sold their store to Luthor's Smallville
Community Development Company and Lex had moved Heaven and Earth to
get Sebastian Fordman home before the father, David Fordman, passed
away. A check at the school showed that Fordman graduated in 2002
and that Kent skipped two grades and graduated the following year.
Late nights at the bar had also yielded wild
stories about strange occurrences -- a kid named Eric
Something-or-Other had temporarily been imbued with superhuman
powers and tossed police cars onto his parent's house like they were
matchsticks. Some football player had killed his girlfriend,
according to rumor, by freezing her to death... An elder lady had
spontaneously combusted in her own bed.... High school kids had been
attacked by bees, a school principal had been run down by his own
car... Crazy stuff.
Jimmy managed to put together a few sketchy
police reports on some of the incidents, but the real meaty details
-- the stuff too strange to be included in any credible police
report -- was rumored to be in a database created by Chloe Sullivan.
A database she now claimed to know nothing about.
After 2004, the online archives yielded
plenty of articles about Luthor's contributions to the
community--financing storm clean-ups, charitable works, industrial
development that had brought thousands of new jobs to the area.
'Luthor is a pillar of this community. No wonder few people
speak ill of him.'
At the end of four days of hard digging, all
Jimmy had was a photographic evidence that Clark Kent and Whitney
Fordman had been lovers; anecdotal evidence that Kent and Lex Luthor
were best friends, and all three of them had been present at
Luthor's recent Birthday Gala.
Not the stuff of which Lois Lane's Pulitzer
Prize could be made of, but if things kept going the way they were,
Jimmy could always award her his pickled liver.
Whitney and Clark were in bed laughing. Lex was still in his
office going over the latest polling numbers that showed he was
beginning to pull away. They were laughing at Jacob Fromm's 'Common
Man for Common People' ad. Jacob was still stuck in Washington,
dealing with budget issues and was only in the state for the
weekends. Lex had been crisscrossing the state giving speeches to
unions and civil associations. Lex had enjoyed the process to some
extent but said his hand ached from being squeezed by farmers who
loved his aid program.
"I hope Lex is getting good news," Whitney
said as he leaned up against Clark.
Clark wrapped an arm around Whitney and
kissed his forehead. "Well, with cheesy commercials like that, how
can he lose?"
Lex walked in and sat down. "The Daily
Planet is digging around town. Joe Ross heard about it. And
they have been going through the Ledger archives."
Whitney and Clark looked at each other for a
moment before Clark responded. "What does that mean for the
campaign?"
Lex finished getting undressed and climbed
into bed with them. Clark's warm embrace helped him relax. "I don't
know, but this is not good news. On the other hand, I am leading by
fifteen points now. The fact that Sen. Fromm is hampered by the
budget mess in Washington helps me." Lex yawned and kissed Clark
then leaned over and kissed Whitney. "Sorry, tired and I promised
Hamilton that I would show him my lab tomorrow."
Clark and Whitney groaned at that. Whitney
turned off the light and they all went to sleep.
Sept 17, Washington
Having been summoned by the President,
Senator Kelly walked down the corridor toward the Oval Office. He
did not feel honored by the request for his presence. He despised
this President as a man who lacked conviction on any issue. Sen.
Kelly longed to make people understand the danger that mutants
represented; the people were responding to his message, but the damn
liberals kept arguing about civil liberties. He waited and was
finally shown into the Oval Office.
"Mr. President, how may I be of service?"
Sen. Kelly asked coolly.
The President disliked Robert Kelly for many
reasons, the foremost being he was an insufferable bastard. "Senator
Kelly, this budget dispute is a mess that we cannot afford. Cut a
deal so Congress can go campaign."
Kelly leaned back in his chair. "Mr.
President, I can't do that. The Liberals are holding up several
pieces of legislation that I refuse to compromise on."
"Robert, your rhetoric on this mutant agenda
is hurting the Party's standing. Moreover, it's a stumbling block
for members who are up for reelection," The President practically
spit out.
"Some things are important, like principles.
With all due respect, I am not going to cave on anything. We will
recess on time, by the end of the month. Much of this is out of my
hands."
The President was seething. "You control the
agenda. Move the bills to a vote."
"Some of them are still in committee, beyond
my reach. Things must play out, Mr. President." With that Sen. Kelly
broke decorum and left.
The President sat, stunned by his audacity.
The national committee polls showed Democrats taking a generic lead
on several issues. The mutant issue was listed a priority but it was
not the top one. 'That SOB is going to take the Party down with
him.'
Henry was looking over the latest intelligence from Panama. The
increase in patrols of the Panamanian Army along the Northern Border
was forcing Costa Rica to deploy troops along its border. There was
a single Avenger on station, but Hawkeye was only to observe, not to
interfere. That agreement was the result of an extremely contentious
meeting, but Henry could not complain because he had someone there
to see what was going on.
CIA had more information on the movement of
arms from the Black Sea to Marrakech. Morocco was a smugglers
paradise in some respects, but the amount of arms that looked to be
on their way there was troubling. CIA estimated that it would be
possible to field a battalion with the number of weapons that had
been shipped.
"What the fuck does all this mean?" he
muttered.
Events were moving in many directions,
signals that could mean many things. 'The wrong assumption and
we are in a worse place than inaction.'
Sept 18, Smallville
Jimmy was back in the basement of the
Ledger. His head was pounding from the late night party and from the
harassing phone call this morning from Lois. He was done with the
stacks of newspapers, but there were a few boxes labeled Morgue
Shots he wanted to go through. Despite the grisly name, Morgue Shots
were just the black-and-white originals of the photographs that went
into the newspaper. Fortunately, the condition of the boxes, moldy
and dirty, did not affect their contents. He began thumbing through
the folders of old photos, the artist in him awed by some of the
quality of the shots.
He went through each folder, flipping
through the pictures with reverence. They had been through so much,
it would be a shame for him to damage them. It was time consuming
but he was close to the last folder when something caught his
attention. A CD in a generic, unmarked white paper sleeve was tucked
neatly in between a batch of old pictures. Only the letters "BU"
were scribbled on the CD.
"Back up?" Jimmy wondered out loud, reaching
for his laptop to find out. He inserted the CD. It took only a few
seconds to realize that he'd hit the jackpot. Picking his jaw up off
the floor took considerably longer.
The CD was named Luthor Kent Fordman, and it
had image after image of the three young men-- some together, some
individually. A photo of the three sitting in a suite that looked
like the old Shark's stadium. Another shot of Kent holding Luthor in
a clearly romantic embrace. A photo of Luthor and Fordman together,
Luthor holding Fordman very intimately. Picture upon picture of all
three together or in various combinations, but all of them spoke of
a relationship that was light-years away from casual. The most
amazing shot of all, though, was one of the last in the directory.
It was a photo of all three of them. Together. They were dressed
casually, but the way they were looking at each other... Jimmy knew
that there was no mistaking it. These three guys were in love. They
were a couple.
Or was it a trio? Jimmy wasn't sure there
was a wholly acceptable term to cover what was going on here.
"Holy shit! Lex Luthor is gay."
Jimmy quickly copied the contents of the CD
to his hard drive, then put it back in its hiding place--that was
the only way he could think of it. Someone had covertly taken these
pictures over the course of several years, and hid the back up copy
of their "evidence" down here in the Morgue.
Jimmy packed his notes and put the boxes
back on the top shelf where he'd found them, anxious to get out of
here and start digging up that skeleton in Lex Luthor's closet.
He stopped in his tracks just short of the
staircase. He was going to talk to a few people tonight about the
past, asking questions about Lex Luthor that were a lot more
personal than any he'd asked on his other excursions to Smallville.
What if Luthor found out and took exception?
What if Jimmy Olsen vanished without a trace?
Paranoia set in as he began to imagine all
sorts of things that might have happened to the person who had felt
he had a reason to hide those incriminating photos in the Ledger
basement. Jimmy hurried back to his motel room and FTP'd the picture
file to his own server, sent a copy to a secure email address, and
burned a copy to a flash data drive. Which he promptly mailed to his
mother from a local Kinko’s.
Sept 20, New York
Sebastian Shaw was sitting in his office at
the Hellfire mansion. The third quarter was ending and the news for
his company was excellent. He was waiting for Emma to show so they
could discuss recent arrangements.
"Hello, Shaw." Emma said as she sauntered
into the room. "I have news of a journalistic kind."
Sebastian nodded. "Continue, this should be
good."
Emma smiled. "It appears that certain of our
activities are being inquired upon."
"Oh? And these would be?"
Emma began to walk around the room. "Why did
we invite Wayne into the Club?"
Shaw followed her with his eyes and tried to
follow her mental trail, as well. "To see if we could use him to our
advantage."
"Those activities now seem to under
surveillance, but not by the source. I see an outside influence, but
we have not yet found where the inquiry is originating."
"Then I suggest that we find out who is
peering into our activities."
Metropolis
Perry and Lois were back to studying the
photos that Jimmy unearthed. All their other material on Luthor was
also being examined for implications and reinforcement, but the meat
of the story were the photographs that connected Lex Luthor with not
one, but two male lovers.
Perry was stunned. "Looks like Luthor has
been involved with these two for eight years and no one has leaked a
word. Not family, staff, townspeople... That level of loyalty is
amazing in and of itself."
Lois was flipping through all of it,
searching for an angle. She happened to be devoutly opposed to
discrimination of any sort, and it made her crazy that homosexuality
was still an acceptable prejudice in some circles. Mutants had
become the latest target of discrimination. It went against
everything she believed to write a story that pointed fingers and
gave anyone grist to say, "Ooh, Luthor's Gay! That must make him
unfit to lead." On the other hand, plural "marriages" had been
outlawed a century ago. This obviously wasn't a marriage, but a
three-way-romance was definitely more kinky than conventional.
"Well, it will change the race for the
Senate, that is for sure," she commented around the ink pen she was
chewing on. "I want more information on Fordman and Kent before we
run with this."
Perry grabbed a cigar and pointed it at
Lois. "Hold your horses there, Lane. This is a big story, but if we
tip our hand before we're ready to publish, we will be working for
Lex Luthor and this story will be buried so deep it'll never see the
light of day. Follow your leads, but be careful."
Lois was annoyed at the lecture, but she
understood the need for caution. "Okay, I will make another call and
see if I can find out a few more things. Tell Jimmy he did good."
Lois walked out of the room.
Perry looked at the photo of the three
smiling at each other. "Wow. This is a powder keg. Jacob Fromm's
group is going to have fun with this."
Sept 24, Panama
The second trial was about to begin. A force
of three platoons was in Acandi, Columbia, getting ready to cross
the border to the north and raid another Panamanian outpost. Dressed
in jungle gear, Damien was looking over this force, getting ready
for the next stage in the plan.
Damien picked up one of the handguns,
looking at the elegant power it represented. "To think that we are
about to undo something that Theodore Roosevelt started back in
1898. Gunboat diplomacy shall be trumped by genetic magic." He saw
Ivan Acevado walking towards him. "Yes?"
"They will be moving in an hour. Meanwhile,
how soon before we are fully resupplied?"
"According to my sources, all munitions will
be in our possession in three weeks."
Acevado smiled and walked away. Damien
looked at the gun and kept it. 'Beware the perils that you can see,
and also the perils that you sense.'
Washington
The ringing of the phone, the buzzing of his
cell phone, and the whining of his pager woke Henry up from his
slumber. The troika of items could only be bad news. He picked up
his house line. "Gyrich."
"This is the White House Signals Office.
There has been an incident in Panama."
Henry cursed and rushed to get to the
office, but while he was rushing he was going to get other people up
as well. He attached his earpiece and autodialed a number.
"Cooper," came the groggy response.
"It's Gyrich. Panama has a situation. Find
out from your guy down there what the hell is going on."
Henry had been looking over maps, satellite images and troop
deployment orders. The losses for the Panamanian Army had been more
severe this time. The incidents all happened in the southern area of
the country and that was making the government nervous. The losses
and having to increase the alert status was going to place stress on
its remaining active forces.
Even worse, the Avenger in Panama had been
in the wrong location and could not say what had happened. Something
was going on, but without reliable information, it was impossible to
make a reasonable guess. All he saw was a number of feints, but he
had no clue what the true objective was.
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