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Enemies & Allies: A Novel

Page 26

by Kevin J. Anderson


  Infuriated, the armored bodyguard swung at her again, his face dark with concentration and effort. He drew back his powered arm and slammed it forward, intending to smash her into a pulp. But Lois dropped to the floor, and Bertram’s armored fist plowed into the control bank and power center. The gauntlet sank deep into the array, destroying the workings.

  Luthor roared at the stupidity of his bodyguard, but the background explosions and sizzle drowned out his words.

  Blue electric bolts skittered all around the battlesuit until the bright green armor and all its internal power systems were completely short-circuited. Though the burly bodyguard cursed and struggled, he could not move. His high-tech armor was nonfunctional, imprisoning him inside a statue.

  “You missed me,” she said.

  Luthor stood in a dead control room, as furious as he was helpless. The smell of ozone and burning circuitry filled the air. All the monitor screens in the room went dark, leaving Luthor blind and unable to use his energy beams. Bertram was alive, unharmed, and completely immobilized in his battlesuit.

  That was a lot more than Lois had expected to achieve, but when she saw the remaining battlesuited guards advancing quickly toward her, she doubted her celebration would last very long.

  CHAPTER 60

  METROPOLIS

  WITH MANY OF THE “ALIEN” SHIPS OUT OF COMMISSION and others severely damaged, Kal-El focused on the real danger now. The false invaders continued to shoot their embedded weapons, but Luthor’s energy beams from the top of the LuthorCorp tower were the greatest threats.

  Kal-El darted in to intercept the next deadly blast before it could vaporize another Air Force jet, again intentionally taking the full brunt of the discharge. Surrounded by fumes and ozone, he took a moment to recover, pushing back the pain and steadying his jangled nerves. Then he dove forward.

  Time to put an end to this. Now.

  He shot toward the top of the LuthorCorp skyscraper, where the beam generators stood like insectile frameworks. Before they could fire again, he furrowed his brow and intensified his heat vision, pushing into the infrared until his own beam melted the insulated energy cables. Sparks flew, and the support girders bent, but that wasn’t good enough for him.

  Kal-El flew in, arms outstretched, fists clenched, and crashed like a battering ram into the transmitter towers. He ripped apart structural girders, uprooted power cables, and released a shower of lightning. The tower tipped over with a crash onto the roof of the LuthorCorp building, looking like the skeleton of a beached sea creature.

  Only then did he take a breath.

  The Batplane was safely landed, but now Batman was out of the fight. Emergency crews and national guard squads rushed through the streets, mounted ladders, and set up rescue stations to care for the injured inside the damaged buildings.

  The fighter aircraft continued to circle the remaining alien ships, spattering them with small missiles or streams of hot bullets until the supposed invaders had been neutralized. At last, Metropolis was safe.

  Suddenly the clear voice of Lois Lane startled him as her message broke through chatter on the military command frequency. He focused his concentration on the transmission, heard the details of her message, and all the pieces fell together. Now he knew where Luthor was hiding, where he had orchestrated this spectacular and deadly con job.

  And where he was holding Lois prisoner.

  Kal-El didn’t hesitate for an instant.

  On the radio, General Sam Lane bellowed orders to redirect F-100D squadrons southward while commanding another squadron to launch from Tyndall and Eglin Air Force bases in Florida. But Kal-El knew they would never find the small Caribbean island soon enough. Lois was in danger now. He could think of nothing else.

  She had gotten herself in trouble, tangled up in Lex Luthor’s scam, while he’d been trapped in Siberia. Kal-El hadn’t been there when she needed him.

  Even if the USAF jets reached the island base at supersonic speeds, how could they land and deploy soldiers in time to rescue her? How could anyone get on the ground swiftly enough to save her?

  He could. I’m coming, Lois, he thought.

  Kal-El streaked off, heading due south.

  FROM HIGH ABOVE, HE SCANNED THE CARIBBEAN ISLANDS and keys with a growing sense of urgency, trying to locate the correct one. Kal-El crisscrossed the skies, desperate to find Lois. She had ended her transmission so quickly, he knew she had to be in deep trouble.

  Lois continued to get herself into impossible situations, such as this one, but this time she had also exposed Luthor’s location. In her own way, she was fighting to save the world. He felt very proud of her, and his heart pounded harder as he increased speed. He knew it was not only fear that drove him faster. It was about how much Lois meant to him, how much he loved her. The thought of a snake like Luthor holding her captive made him clench his fists. Not only had Luthor threatened Earth, he had threatened her.

  He sped toward a tiny dot of an island in the middle of the blue sea. Sharpening his vision, he saw the outline of the small patch of land, the beaches, industrial areas, docks and shipyards, soot-stained rocket launchpads…and the control center, modern structures built around the ruins of an old Spanish fort.

  Lois was in there. Her transmission had cut off abruptly, and she might already be dead.

  Kal-El flew down faster than a missile, directly toward the headquarters building. He landed on the rooftop with a thud, spreading his red boots apart for balance. He bent over, cocked back his arm, and slammed his fist into the metal tiles. Battering until he smashed through the roof, he ripped away shingles and support beams and cleared an opening through the ceiling. He dropped down into the control room, landing amid the debris.

  Lois was easy to spot next to a grinning Lex Luthor—who held a loaded Luger P08 pistol to her head while grasping her firmly around the waist. Though the technicians scattered as Kal-El crashed his way down into the control room, Luthor simply sneered. “You’re utterly predictable. What took you so long?”

  “I had to finish cleaning up your mess in Metropolis. Put the gun down, Luthor. I’m delivering you to the authorities.”

  “People should never presume to tell me what to do.” He pressed the gun barrel firmly against Lois’s temple. She looked more annoyed than afraid, but Kal-El wasn’t fooled.

  “Ask yourself, Superman,” Luthor continued. “Is capturing me worth the price of Miss Lane’s life? I really don’t want her pretty brains splattered all over my suit, but…” He shrugged. “I can always get a new suit. Finding another Lois Lane may prove a bit more difficult.”

  Kal-El didn’t move, careful not to endanger Lois. When her eyes met his, he saw her complete confidence in him—her love for him—and that gave him strength. “If you’re the great genius you claim to be, Lex Luthor, then you’ve already figured out you can’t get away.”

  “I still have alternatives,” Luthor said. On cue, three battle-suited guards stalked forward to protect their master, encircling Kal-El. “I designed those suits to match your abilities. Three of them will be more than enough to squash you like a bug.” He smiled at Kal-El. “These are my supermen.”

  The guards raised their gauntlets and shot small explosive rockets at Kal-El’s chest at point-blank range. The detonations made him stagger backward into a wall so hard that the cinder blocks crumbled. But the weapons did not damage his suit, his S emblem, or him. Picking himself up from the rubble, he strode through the clearing smoke, taking satisfaction in the astonished expressions on the armored bodyguards.

  From their arm cannons, a stream of large-caliber bullets poured out, only to bounce harmlessly off Kal-El’s chest, though the deflected projectiles ripped craters in the walls and damaged control banks. Two ricocheted shots struck the paralyzed Bertram with loud spangs; trapped in his immobile armor, he flinched down beneath the raised collar shield. He struggled and strained, but the uncooperative battlesuit kept him imprisoned in his petrified shell.

  Seeing that
a ricochet could easily kill Lois, Kal-El used a burst of his heat vision to melt the already-hot barrels of their inset artillery.

  When their weapons failed, the guards activated their jetpacks and launched themselves directly at Kal-El, smashing into him. All three used the most powerful engines and hydraulics, slamming piston-powered blows into Superman from all sides, hammering and hammering.

  But all he could see was Lois being threatened, the pistol pressed against her head, and the pure evil in Luthor’s face. Kal-El could no longer afford to be cautious.

  He seized one of the guards by the front of his thick battlesuit and hurled him up through the gaping hole he had left in the ceiling. Kal-El picked up the second man bodily and smashed him into his companion with the force of two colliding trucks. The plated armor may have been impenetrable, but the reverberating impact was enough to knock both men unconscious.

  As though he had just mopped up several opponents in a bar brawl, Kal-El turned to face Luthor once more, flexing his fingers. The other man’s confidence seemed to drain away, leaving him paler than usual. His expression was twisted as he held Lois tighter; now he was desperate and even more dangerous.

  “Not one more step,” Luthor said. “You know I’ll kill her. Don’t doubt it for a second.”

  “Please don’t hurt me.” Lois’s voice shook with terror, and she wobbled against him. “Please, Lex!” Kal-El saw her give him a quick, sly wink.

  Surprised at her sudden change of tone, Luthor glanced at his captive—and Lois stomped down hard with her full weight, grinding her heel ferociously into his instep. Luthor howled in pain, instinctively doubling over, and she brought up her knee. Hard.

  Reacting instantly, Kal-El unleashed a burst of heat vision, and the Luger in Luthor’s hand turned cherry red. The bald man hurled the throbbing pistol aside as Lois ducked free of his grasp. Kal-El seized Luthor easily, though the man continued to struggle and argue (it seemed a matter of pride for him).

  Holding Luthor easily up off the floor, where his feet kicked and thrashed, Kal-El smiled at Lois. “The Air Force will be here soon, Miss Lane. Your father received your message on the secure military band. I’ll wait here until you’re safe.”

  Lois nodded matter-of-factly, surveying the ruined control center with a wry chuckle. “The general will be annoyed that I used that frequency again.”

  “It was a matter of national security, Miss Lane. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  “You don’t know my father.”

  Still smiling, he took a step closer, wanting to put his arms around her, but he couldn’t let go of Luthor yet. “Then I’ll put in a good word. How could anyone stay upset with you for long?”

  BY THE TIME THE AIR FORCE JETS ARRIVED AND A GROUP OF paratroopers landed on the island to secure the base, Kal-El had already done most of the mopping up and locked Luthor in one of his own cells. A U.S. Navy destroyer came shortly thereafter, dispatching marines who quickly fanned out and took up their positions to stand guard over Luthor’s remaining weapons systems.

  Finally, Kal-El handed Luthor over to the marines and watched as they put the scowling man into handcuffs and marched him away to the destroyer’s brig.

  “Good riddance,” Lois said. “I’ve had enough of this island.”

  Kal-El put his hand on her arm. “I’d be happy to give you a lift back to Metropolis, Miss Lane…Lois…if you’d like to fly with me.” For a minute the pair stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do next.

  Then Lois smiled and took his hand in hers. “I’d love to.”

  He gently swept her off her feet, held her close, and the two of them were quickly airborne, flying free and alone in the empty sky. She looked into his bright blue eyes and let herself enjoy the sensation of being held in his arms again. They never once looked back down as the island vanished below them.

  CHAPTER 61

  THE DAILY PLANET

  WHEN CLARK KENT RETURNED FROM VISITING HIS mother in Kansas, he congratulated Lois on her front-page story. “It must have been quite an ordeal, Lois.”

  “Good thing Superman was there to save her,” Jimmy said with a grin.

  Lois raised her eyebrows. “Give me a little credit, Jimmy—Superman and I took more of a tag-team approach. Luthor didn’t have a chance against the two of us.” She let out a wistful sigh. “I’m just glad I helped restore the world’s faith in Superman. Some of those innuendos Luthor made…And now we know what he was up to all along! Even Senator McCarthy has denounced Luthor. He’s in full-blown damage control.”

  “Now, Lois, I doubt the world really questioned Superman,” Clark said mildly. “He’s proved himself again and again with his good deeds. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Never a doubt in my mind,” Lois said. She looked at the folded newspaper, the large-type headline, and more important, her own name on the byline. “Superman certainly doesn’t slack off when people need him.” She pointed to the prominent photo of the Man of Steel. “He’s a real hero.”

  Upon returning to the bullpen, Clark was delighted to see Lorna Bahowic back at her desk, happily wading through mountains of complicated letters and compiling her next “Lovelorn” column. Clark was relieved to see her diligently tackling those crises so that he could deal with matters to which he was better suited.

  “We all can’t be Superman, Lois.” Clark fumbled with his eyeglasses and looked away. “I wish I could have been here myself, but my mom wasn’t feeling well, and I had to take care of her. In Smallville, Kansas, we’re raised to think that family takes priority.”

  Lois’s expression softened as she looked sincerely at him. “Of course, Clark. It’s just…well, you always seem to be gone every time something exciting happens around here.”

  “Something exciting is always happening in Metropolis, Lois. And the Luthor scandal is going to last for quite a while.”

  Luthor faced a mountain of charges, thanks in large part to Lois’s investigative journalism and all the information she had discovered about his secret island base, his energy-beam controls, the murders of many LuthorCorp employees, and his plans to dupe the human race. More than a hundred people had been killed during the attack of the fake alien battleships on Metropolis, including five fighter pilots, and Luthor would be held responsible for those murders.

  But the crimes did not stop there. He had also been implicated in secret dealings with the Soviets, and the launch of the three nuclear missiles had his fingerprints all over it as well. Though the Soviet premier denied all knowledge of a general named Ceridov or the existence of any gulag in the Siberian wasteland, the computer tapes recovered in Luthor’s control center told a different story.

  Once his plan was revealed, Luthor didn’t even bother to deny his involvement. Instead, he wanted to receive credit for his genius in developing the “alien” propulsion system, the invasion battleships, and the flying-saucer prototype that had crashed in Arizona. Luthor even admitted to using his high-powered energy beams to blast Sputnik out of orbit, which elicited furious demands from the Soviets to have him extradited to face trial in Moscow as well.

  All together, there was more than enough evidence. Luthor wasn’t going to worm his way out of this one.

  “So, Mr. Kent, maybe there aren’t aliens out there after all.” Jimmy sounded glum. “I’m glad the invasion turned out to be a fake, but still…all those movies can’t be wrong, can they?”

  Clark sighed. “Just because one or two stories are hoaxes doesn’t mean that all the rest are untrue.” He squeezed the young photographer’s shoulder in a gesture of friendship. “After all, it only takes one.”

  Jimmy grinned at him. “And we know Superman’s an alien—there’s no denying that.”

  “See? There’s always hope.” In the back of his mind, Clark was trying to convince himself, too. He longed to know that he wasn’t alone.

  Perry White stood at the door of his office, impatiently tapping his fingers on the jamb. “Is this a newfangled journalism technique the
y teach in school? Wait for the news to come to you? Come on, people—stories don’t report themselves. Get out there, hit the streets, find some leads. Is it asking too much for a newspaper to have a headline every single day?”

  Clark took up his hat and notepad, Jimmy grabbed his camera, and Lois got a brand-new pen to replace the one that had been ruined during her escape from Luthor’s base. The smiling trio left the Daily Planet together to see what Metropolis had to offer them today.

  CHAPTER 62

  THE CAVE

  HE KNEW THE WORLD WOULD NEVER BE TRULY SAFE-NOT from petty thieves who were willing to murder, not from corrupt industrialists who wanted to take over the planet…perhaps not even from the threat of alien invasion.

  But Earth was secure enough, for now.

  Bruce sat in the Cave, still clad in his dark armored suit, the black scalloped cape tucked behind him; he had removed his cowl and it sat like a demonic mask on the corner of the laboratory table. At the moment he was deep in thought, balanced between being millionaire Bruce Wayne and vigilante Batman, half in and half out of costume, both a corporate head and a hero. It didn’t really matter which outfit he wore.

  With Lex Luthor in disgrace, the future of LuthorCorp was in limbo. The man had been too narcissistic to believe his company could possibly function without him, so—unlike Thomas Wayne—he had failed to create detailed contingency plans for his demise. He had established basic guidelines for the company to continue, and it would limp along for a time, but it was obvious that Luthor had designated no heir. He did not trust anyone enough.

  Many of LuthorCorp’s pending R&D contracts had been transferred to Wayne Enterprises. Bruce’s best researchers would continue to develop sophisticated ways to defend America, and with those profits he could devote more resources to medical research and the construction of new hospitals, which would have made his father proud.

 

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