Superman Movieverse Forum

Title: Family Reunion
Author: Mr. Beeto
Rating: PG-13
Beta: htbthomas and Shado Librarian
Summary: AU Twist on Donner/Singer Movieverse: Tie the three films together into a cohesive whole, and provide a more credible and interesting reason for Superman to have returned to Krypton.

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Author’s Notes:
Thanks again to the beta team of htbthomas and Shado Librarian, a.k.a. dandello.

Chapter 37 – Pandemonium

Thursday, October 5, 2006 2:00PM EDT
Harold Vanderworth Junior climbed out of his limousine, joining his bodyguards as a silver Acura TSX pulled in ahead of them.  A moment later, Nancy Johnson stepped out of the car.  She was one of the junior lawyers working with them on the probate case against Luthor.  Harold walked over to her and casually said, “I hear Morrison won’t be joining us this afternoon.”

“Nope,” Nancy replied.  “Sounds like Luthor fired him.”

“Well, we were expecting that he’d do something foolish – looks like your job just got a lot easier,” Harold replied.  He heard another car approaching and looked back as a Chevy Malibu pulled up behind the limousine.  Harold commented quietly, “I wonder who we have here.”

A middle-aged balding man climbed out of the Malibu, and rushed over to greet them.  “Hi, I’m Tom McKenzie, the city inspector.”

“Harold Vanderworth,” Harold told him.  “And this is Nancy Johnson from my attorney’s office, and these two are Paul Norris and Bruce Rodgers from my security team.  We’re expecting one more, but it looks like she’s running late.”

“Well, we can wait a couple minutes, but that’s all,” Tom told him.  “We’re kind of on a tight schedule.  I assume one of you has a key?”

“Yes, but I’m assuming Luthor changed the locks,” Harold replied scornfully.  “We have a locksmith on the way.  He should be here any minute.”

Tom nodded and said, “Just to summarize what we’re doing here – this is a court-ordered inspection, which you’re permitted to witness as a party to the case.  And when I say ‘witness’, that means you stay with me – nobody wanders through house unescorted.”

“We understand,” Harold answered.

After a few minutes of small talk, Nancy noticed a flicker of light inside the mansion’s windows and asked curiously, “Is someone already inside?  I think I just saw a light come on.”

“Mister Luthor still has custodial possession,” Tom reminded her as he strained to see movement through the windows.  An asymmetric flicker through the windows widened his eyes in alarm, and he added urgently, “That looks like a fire.  Wait here.  I’m going to take a closer look.”

Tom trotted up to the porch and cupped his hands around his eyes as he peered through a side window.  After a moment, he turned from the window and pulled out his cell phone as he called to his companions, “I’m calling 911.  We’ve got a fire!”  No sooner had he dialed the number on his cell phone than a white hot flame violently exploded through the doors and windows of the mansion, engulfing the building inspector in its embrace.  The intense heat instantly burned through his clothing, leaving the remaining fabric and skin melded as one in an unfamiliar wrap around his body.  However, before the unimaginable pain could provoke his screams, the concussive force of the blast mercifully robbed him of consciousness as it threw him across the lawn and to the far side of the driveway, where he landed hard in a limp and smoldering pile.



It hadn’t taken Superman long to confirm that there had been a bomb underneath the tanker trailer in Roosevelt Tunnel, and he found the resulting carnage sickening.  He initially counted thirty dead, dozens more with severe burns, and hundreds more trapped.  There were also dozens of mangled vehicles littering the tunnel and a steady stream of water seeping in from the damaged walls.  The only saving grace was the lighter early afternoon traffic, which helped limit the death toll from what it could have been.

Why would anyone do this? Superman wondered.  What could they possibly have to gain?  He pushed back the nausea the scene provoked, and attacked the blaze, using his freezing breath to insulate the survivors from the extreme heat while simultaneously attempting to contain and extinguish the blaze.  Several excruciatingly minutes later, the fire was finally doused and he finally went to work triaging the surviving victims and began their evacuation.

The first victims evacuated were the most time consuming.  They were the most critically injured, required the most careful handling, and had to be immediate evacuated to the area hospitals one at a time, if they were to have a chance at survival.  By the time the first ambulances showed up, the injury level of the remaining victims was sufficient to allow him to deposit the victims with the paramedics for interim treatment.  It was still a laborious process, evacuating survivors one at a time, but the turnaround was quicker.  Finally, the last survivor was evacuated from the tunnel, after a nearly intolerable forty-five minutes since the tanker detonated.

Unfortunately, the disaster was also one of the rare events where he felt compelled to handle evacuation of the deceased.  Under normal circumstances, he left that dreadful duty to the medico-legal investigators from the Metropolis O.C.M.E., which left testimony regarding the scene to the professionals and avoided any inadvertent forensic contamination.  However, the imminent flooding of the Roosevelt Tunnel and the clear cause of death from the disaster called for different handling.

After a brief stop at the O.C.M.E. to coordinate with a MLI supervisor and collect body bags, he began removing the deceased and transferring them to a city maintenance garage near the morgue.  Not only did the deceased have to be removed one at a time and handled with nearly as much care as the critically injured, he also needed to fill out paperwork for each of them, documenting the scene of death in as much detail as possible for later analysis and identification of the deceased.  That process had taken him another twenty minutes.

Once the unhappy duty was finally done, Superman found the fire marshall near the west end of the Roosevelt Tunnel.  He immediately recognized the man as Warren Brown, a fireman he’d rescued from a bad arson fire prior to his hiatus, though he wasn’t a marshall the last time he saw him.  “Marshall Brown,” Superman greeted the man somberly.

“Superman,” the fire marshall replied politely.  “Man, it’s good to have you back!  Thanks for the assist.  Any idea what happened here?”

“The blaze appears to have been started by a bomb on a diesel tanker trailer,” Superman informed him.

“Those tankers aren’t supposed to be in the tunnels,” Marshall Brown stated angrily.

“I don’t think that whoever was behind this was concerned with traffic rules,” Superman replied grimly.  “The tanker was down there and its explosion has caused extensive damage.   There are dozens of incinerated and mangled vehicles still down there, and there’s a lot of water coming in.  I expect that the tunnel will be completely flooded within the hour."

“Anything else you can tell us?”

“I haven’t had time for a thorough–” Superman began, then his head snapped up and he quickly said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. Another explosion just went off north of here.”  He then launched into the air and disappeared over the rooftops, zooming across the city to the source of troubling sound.



Thursday, October 5, 2006 2:10PM EDT
By the time Superman arrived at the Vanderworth mansion, the heat of the blaze had already burnt through most of the internal structural support, collapsing what was left of the upper floors into the basement, which continued to burn amazingly hot.  Superman immediately scanned through the wreckage, breathing a sigh of relief once he’d confirmed that there were no victims inside the building.

However the fire had still claimed a victim, severely burnt and barely clinging to life as his companions surrounded him, helpless to do more than offer words of comfort to the unconscious man while they waited for an ambulance.  The extreme heat had burned through his clothes, melting what remained to his skin, which was charred black and stained with unhealthy streaks of pink.  Superman doubted he’d survive.

As always, the first priority was with the survivors, despite the odds against them.  After confirming that the blaze wasn’t an immediate threat to the other survivors, he landed next to the unidentified man, gently cooling the victim’s still smoldering skin before lifting him up, mindful of his injuries.  As the others looked over at him, Superman informed them.  “I need to get this man to Met General immediately.  I’ll be back.”

After turning over the victim to the care of Metropolis General Hospital’s emergency room staff, he turned his attention to the fire, which was still blazing at an incredible three thousand degrees, nearly twice the temperature of the average fire.  High temperature accelerants, Superman concluded and he began tight orbit around the burning structure, blowing his freezing breath on the flames in a desperate effort to extinguish the blaze.  Fires that hot couldn’t simply be blown out like a candle.  Even water would feed the flames at that temperature, with the oxygen atoms immediately separating and fueling the combustion.

It took the Man of Steel nearly ten minutes to cool the blaze to normal fire temperatures and finally extinguish it, with assistance from the water hoses of Engine Company Eighty-Seven of the Metropolis Fire Department.  There was little more than a shell left of the once impressive mansion, with the exception of the Kryptonian crystal mass.  It had been transformed into a smoky black and appeared brittle, but had otherwise survived the inferno.

Superman scanned the firefighters on the scene, searching out the fire marshall, who was one of the rare women in the Metropolis Fire Department.  Superman didn’t recognize her from the old days, but that was hardly a surprise, given that nearly half of the marshalls returned to the ranks of the firefighters they were recruited from after a couple years.  Superman landed gently and politely greeted her, “Marshall.  I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“Georgia Marenko,” she introduced herself.  “Thanks for the assist.  Can you tell us anything about this fire?”

“It was a hot one – over three thousand degrees,” Superman informed them.  “I’m afraid it’s consumed most of your arson evidence.”

“Another HTA fire?” Georgia replied unhappily.  “I was really hoping we’d seen the last of those.”

Superman’s eyes widened in surprise and he asked, “Another one?  I thought HTA fires were a rarity.”

“They are – only about twenty-five of them nationwide in the last decade.  However, a disgruntled wannabe firefighter with a grudge against the department set a number of HTA fires to try to embarrass us a couple of years back,” Marenko explained.  “We caught the guy and he got a multiple life sentence at Stryker’s.  He was a slippery bastard – I hope he hasn’t gotten out…”

“I think Lex Luthor is your prime suspect behind this one,” Superman declared.  “He was ordered by the court this morning to open the place up for inspection, and this seems a bit too coincidental for my taste.  Besides, the unexploded firebombs from the Baxter Stamping Plant Tuesday night were HTA and were also tied to Luthor.  Marshall Pete Daniels was onsite from your department, though I think that S.C.U. is handling that case.  You might want to talk to Captain Maggie Sawyer.”

“I’ll do that - thanks for the tip,” Georgia replied grimly.  “I just hope we can keep the interdepartmental politics out of it this time.”
 
  “I thought everyone was supposed to be on the same side,” Superman began sternly, but before he could continue the discussion, he suddenly cocked his head to the side and his eyes grew wide in alarm.  “I have to go,” he said quickly and he launched himself into the air, disappearing in a blur to the west.



Luthor allowed a small smile as observed the live events in Metropolis with grim satisfaction and reflected how easy it had been to keep Superman preoccupied.  After his conversation with Morrison, a check of the alpha scanner had shown Superman again hovering high above the city, flying in lazy orbits and probably looking down on Metropolis like a god on Mount Olympus, seeking out opportunities to meddle in the affairs of mortals.  Despite Luthor’s meticulous planning, there was still the possibility that the freak could find a way to interfere with his grand designs, and he needed to keep Superman busy until he was ready for him.

Fortunately, he had planned for that and as the yacht cruised to the predetermined launch coordinates, Luthor had unleashed his fury on Metropolis, the effects of which was now apparent on the screen before him.  The planned distractions had exceeded his wildest expectations.  One of the new contractors had guided a tanker trailer into Roosevelt Tunnel shortly after one, believing his assignment to be to tie up traffic as a distraction for a daring robbery.  The fool never noticed the explosives on the trailer and probably never had time to realize the truth when the devices detonated.  The wonderful results of that blast kept the Man of Steel occupied for over an hour.  Luthor watched with glee as the red swirls on his display showed Superman’s panicked efforts to save the victims, while another window showed GNN’s live coverage of the disaster.

When Superman was finally wrapping up his efforts at the tunnel, Luthor was thrilled to see him zoom away to the Vanderworth mansion.  The GNN helicopters had quickly converged on the smoke trail, and Luthor delighted in the extent of the damage showed on the screen along with the alpha scanner results showing the Man of Steel’s circuit between the estate and the hospital.  I couldn’t have timed the second distraction better, Luthor thought gleefully.  Let’s see Junior and his lawyers try to inspect the place now.

The only down side of the mansion fire was the relatively short time that Superman required to address the situation, given the lack of victims.  When Superman had the fire wrapped up fifteen minutes later, Luthor sent the signal to send him to his next distraction, simultaneously igniting multiple explosive firebombs hidden in the Hancock Building in Glenmorgan Square.  One of the devices had been planted in the janitor’s closet near his former lawyer’s Metropolis satellite office.  Hopefully, the fool is still there, Luthor thought as he continued to monitor the feed from the alpha scanner.  Predictably, it showed Superman immediately flying across town to fight the blaze and rescue the thousands of mindless pencil pushers in that building.  The GNN helicopter again quickly closed in on the fire, and Luthor delighted in the scenes of chaos.

Luthor’s amusement was interrupted by the footfalls across the ballroom’s glass floor.  Luthor looked up and his eyes widened in surprise as he recognized Lois Lane with two young children as Brutus nudged them forward with his Glock.  Kitty had also chosen to join them, cuddling the cursed Pomeranian in her arms as she followed the group into the ballroom.  “We found them snooping around the mansion and since you don’t like us improvising…” Brutus began.

Two children? Luthor wondered.  There’s only one extra dependent on her tax returns.  I guess that means one of the fathers won custody.  Luthor stood and walked out from behind his desk, and stated with false cheer, “Ah, if it isn’t Lois Lane.  Didn’t you just win a Pulitzer Prize for my favorite article of all time, ‘Why the World Doesn’t Need Superman’?  You had such great potential.  I can’t tell you how disappointed I am in the direction your writing’s gone lately.”

“Not as disappointed as I am in our criminal justice system,” Lois retorted.  “Didn’t you have a few years to go on your double life sentence?”

“Well, we can thank the Man of Steel for that.  He’s really good at swooping in and stopping the bad guys.  But he’s not so hot on the little things.  Like Miranda Rights, due process… making your court date.”

“And how many people did you have pay off to carry that argument?” Lois countered.  “Just Judge Gregory, or were there others?”

Luthor narrowed his eyes at her and said menacingly, “Someone in your position should show a little more respect.”  Luthor gestured towards his recently vacated seat and said, “Please take a seat.”

“We’ll stand.”

“That wasn’t a request,” Luthor warned her.  She felt Brutus’ gun in her back and reluctantly led the children to Luthor chair, pulling them on her lap after she sat.

“So what’s your grand plan this time?” Lois asked anxiously.

“Fishing for an interview?”

“Well, the public hasn’t heard your side yet – you haven’t exactly been available for comment,” Lois answered.  “Here’s your chance to set the record straight and show the public the real Lex Luthor – and I’m sure they’d love to hear it…  So how about we take my kids back to town, put them in a cab, and then you can do whatever you want with me.”

“Nobody’s going anywhere… and I can already do whatever I want with you,” Luthor reminded her.

Lois’ shoulders sagged in resignation, and she nodded her head.  “All right, then.  How about the interview?  You can explain to the masses what Lex Luthor is all about.  So…  What is your grand plan?”

Luthor pulled the construction crystal out of the inside pocket of his suit coat, displaying it tantalizingly in front of his guests as asked, “Tell me, my dear.  What do you know about crystals?”



Perry White stood outside Sam Foswell’s office and asked seriously, “Have we got anything on that Roosevelt Tunnel fire yet?”

“Gil phoned in his preliminary report a few minutes ago, and we’ll have it up on the web site as soon as Roberta adds in the information from D.O.T.,” Sam explained.  “Lucky for us, Gil was close enough to hear what Superman told the firemen.  Apparently, a bomb blew up a tanker trailer down there, and it was bad enough to flood the tunnel.”

“Do we have confirmation?” Perry pressed.

“We’re working on it.  Gil’s trying to get an official statement from the police or fire crews, and he’ll stick around until everything’s wrapped up.  Olsen’s on his way back in with pictures.”

Perry nodded and turned to the bullpen, briefly locking his gaze on the overhead televisions as GNN’s helicopter broadcast the chaos at the tunnel’s west entrance.  After a moment, he broke his gaze from the television and looked out into the bullpen, where nearly everyone was staring at the shocking images on the overhead televisions.  Perry frowned at the scene and then shouted out across the bullpen.  “All right, everyone!  That’s enough!  There’s too much watching and not enough writing going on here!  This is a hot story and we’re a newspaper, not a studio audience, so get to work!  The story is the bomb in the Roosevelt Tunnel!

“Evans, Anderson!  Get up to roof and flag down Superman for his perspective.  International!  Who are the most likely suspects among the terrorists groups?  Is anyone claiming responsibility?  Washington!  What’s the White House and DHS reaction?  City!  What’s the mayor going to do about this?  What about M.P.D.?  How bad’s the damage to the tunnel?  Business!  What’s this economic impact of the attack?  Lifestyle!  How is everyone coping with the attack and with the tunnel closure?  Now let’s get moving, people!  We have pages to fill!”

The bullpen exploded into action, and Perry returned to his office with mixed emotions, both pleased at the likely spike in their circulation figures and dismayed by the reason for it.  Tragedy certainly sells papers but why did it have to be something like this? he wondered.  He settled into his chair, and turned up the volume of the GNN broadcast on the television on the opposite wall before turning his attention to his desktop computer and looking through the story review queue.

A few minutes later, Richard walked into his uncle’s office and informed him, “We have Gus on top of DHS, and Helen at the White House, though they expect it could be awhile before we get a statement.  It’s going to take them a little while to get all the facts together.”

“What about international?” Perry pressed.

“Same thing, basically.  There are a couple terrorists groups in particular who’d love to pull off something like this, but it’s going to take a while to confirm.  I have Ron working on it, but I can’t guarantee that we’ll have anything usable by deadline.”

The discussion was joined by Sam Foswell as he entered Perry’s office.  “Gil’s got confirmation on the bomb from the fire marshall,” Sam informed them somberly.   “He’s saying that tankers like the one that blew up aren’t supposed to be allowed in the tunnels, so there’s a question as to how it got past the toll gate – Roger is looking into that…  We’ve got thirty-one dead, over one hundred fifty injured, many of them seriously, and the tunnel’s expected to be completely flooded within the hour.  Needless to say, the Roosevelt Tunnel is closed until further notice.”

“Geez,” Richard commented.

“The mayor’s already scheduled a press conference at four o’clock to discuss the attack,” Sam added.  “Polly will cover it.”

“Send Olsen with her for pictures,” Perry commanded.

Further discussion of the matter was interrupted by the GNN Anchor Alicia Myers’s loud announcement from Perry’s television.  “This just in.  There’s been a second explosion in Metropolis this afternoon, this time in an exclusive oceanfront neighborhood…”

“Another one?” Sam muttered incredulously.  “What on Earth is going on here?”

The scene on the television switched to the helicopter feed, showing the blazing ruins of a large building with a red and blue blur swirling around it while Alicia Myers continued to describe the scene.  “We’re being told that this destroyed building was the home of the late Gertrude Vanderworth, and subject of a bitter dispute between her children and her new husband, Lex Luthor, who was indicted for her murder just this morning…”

“Oh, shit,” Perry murmured worriedly.  A concerned expression appeared on his face as he pulled out his cell phone and started scrolling through his contact list.

“What is it?” Richard asked.

“Lois was supposed to be at the Vanderworth mansion at two,” Perry explained.

  “No, there’s got to be a mistake,” Richard replied insistently.  “She was heading right back to the safe house after Jason’s appointment.”

“There was a court ordered property inspection this afternoon, and she was planning on being there,” Perry informed him.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Richard protested angrily.

“Richard, please tell me we aren’t going to have to have another talk about the office rules,” Perry grumbled.  He held up his index finger, signaling the other to wait as he spoke into the cell phone.  “Lois, it’s Perry.  We just heard about the Vanderworth place blowing up.  Please call us and let us know that you weren’t there.”

“You shouldn’t have let her go,” Richard said angrily.

“Well, considering all I got from her on the matter was a text message as she was heading over to the place, there wasn’t much opportunity for discussion,” Perry countered.  “Son, I know this is hard on you, but Lois is a remarkably clever and resilient woman.  Let’s not make the mistake of underestimating her…  Besides, for all we know she got tied up in traffic.  The place isn’t that far from that Roosevelt Tunnel mess, after all.”  Perry turned to Sam and added authoritatively, “Get a hold of Kent.  Find out if Lois made that appointment…  And get someone down there to cover the fire.”

Sam nodded and quickly trotted out of Perry’s office, pulling out his cell phone and scrolling through his contact list as he left the two men to their silent worry.



Lois stared at Luthor’s revised continental map over the fireplace, her eyes widening in horror.  The madman had just described in cheerful detail a murderous plan to destroy and replace North America with a new continent of his own making – one equipped with “advanced alien technology” to keep the surviving countries in line.  And his invited ‘guests’ would pay dearly for the privilege of their survival.  It seemed to be the worst possible corruption of the stolen Kryptonian technology, degraded by Luthor’s mad scheme for ‘high-tech beachfront property’.  It’s worse than we imagined, Lois thought.

She seemed to finally notice Luthor grinning maniacally back at her and she quietly said, “You can’t be serious.  Millions of people would die.”

“Billions!” Luthor corrected enthusiastically.  “Once again the press underestimates me.  This is front page news.”  Lois stared back at him in disbelief and he smiled jovially as he baited her, “Come on.  Say it.”

“You’re insane,” Lois replied breathlessly.

Luthor snorted and shook his head.  “No, not that – the other thing,” he said a little too cheerfully.  “Come on, it’s dangling on the tip of your tongue.  Say it.”

“Superman will never–” Lois began

“Wrong!” Luthor bellowed.  He returned the crystal to his jacket pocket and walked over to the mantel, opening a metal box, bathing his face in a green glow as he removed an emerald green hollow cylinder from the container.  “The freak won’t have a chance.”

Lois immediately heard the sharp intake of breath from both of the children in her arms and felt them tense up.  She squeezed them tightly to her and discreetly quieted them as the madman continued his ranting.

“Mind over muscle, Miss Lane,” Luthor declared flatly, finally returning his gaze to his guests.  “Mind over–”  He suddenly fell silent as he noticed the two children limp in Lois’ arms.  He approached them, pointing the cylinder at them while he insistently asked, “Who is their father?”

What do I tell him? Lois wondered.  I don’t dare say Richard or Clark, just in case Luthor isn’t convinced their father’s human and goes after him.  After a moment’s hesitation, she settled on Clark’s middle name and anxiously said, “Joseph.”  Lois reflected that the only silver lining to the children’s kryptonite exposure was that they were too weak to question her answer.  She knew they would have corrected her otherwise.

“So is that the name he’s using?” Luthor asked knowingly.  “Or is that just the latest fool you’ve tricked into believing that the half-breeds were his?  It’s really quite fascinating how easily small minds are fooled by the duplicity of women.  First White, then Kent.  Now ‘Joseph’?”  He bent in front of them, waving the kryptonite cylinder before the children’s faces and closely observing their reaction.  The children remained motionless as they wheezed heavily, their reactions otherwise bordering on catatonic.

Lois miraculously kept her expression neutral as her heart raced in panic.  Come on, Lane – be convincing, Lois commanded herself.  She wrinkled her brow in false confusion and muttered, “Huh?  What are you talking about?”

“They seem a little green around the gills,” Luthor commented.  “Guess they don’t care for this miraculous material any more than that meddling Boy Scout does…”

“What?  You don’t really think that…  Oh, for crying out loud,” Lois replied in disbelief, dramatically rolling her eyes.  “They’re asthmatic!  They’re having an allergic reaction to the dog!”  She patted Jason’s pockets, searching for his inhaler.

“Boss, we’re approaching the coordinates,” Stanford’s voice announced over the intercom.

Luthor ignored his employee and insistently asked Lois, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Stanford replied defensively.  “Thirty-eight degrees fifty-six minutes north by seventy-three degrees thirty-five minutes west, and the ship’s turned around with the bow to the west.”

As Luthor continued to scrutinize the children, Lois finally found the albuteral inhaler, pulled it from Jason’s front pocket and pulled the cap off.  Jason automatically inhaled as Lois put the end in his mouth and sent the medicine into his lungs.  Lois then repeated the process for Kara, instructing her to breathe in deeply as she squeezed down on the inhaler.

Luthor appeared to finally be convinced of Lois’ explanation, withdrawing from his guests and speaking authoritatively into the intercom, “I’m on my way up.”  He afterwards turned to Brutus and commanded, “Don’t let them leave this room.”  Luthor then marched briskly towards the doorway at the opposite end of the ballroom and called over his shoulder, “Come, Kitty.  The Twilight of the Gods awaits.”

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