Rescued (SuperBat fic)

17

HQ is obscured by a crowd and flashes of light as the car pulls up. I know what this means. I have walked this gauntlet before.
"Liam, walk me in please."
Liam unclicks his seatbelt and pulls down the cuffs of his suit jacket. I let him step out first and step out of the car on the road side, to be further away from the paparazzi hounds. The pack is quick to swarm around me as I walk, blinking back the flashes.
"Mr Wayne tells us about -"
"- The planning permission."
"Who?"
"The bribe -"
"Why?"
I shake my head, save my breath and keep my No Comments silent.
One of them gets in my way, slightly bent, scuttering backwards in front of me. Liam lifts an arm and pushes him aside. A few more steps and we're finally inside. Security takes up the usual positions, large inside the doors.
I lean over the desk and shout into the booth, "Ray."
He turns in his chair.
"Yes boss?"
"Could you phone Lucius and tell him to get his ass into my office, now?"
Ray nods and mutters something as he turns back to the desk and lifts the phone. I step into the elevator and clench my shaking fists. The ride feels far too long with so much to sort. Tilda stays quiet behind her desk as I walk into my office.
I find Lucius leaning on one palm, staring down out of the huge windows in the far wall.
"Lucius, what the fuck is going on?!"
He turns, wringing his hands.
"Have you read Clark Kent's piece about the regeneration of the biochemical campus?"
"No."
He lifts a folded up paper from the windowsill and comes across to hand it to me. I snatch it out of his hands.
Clark has written this well. He was almost kind about the motivation for the regeneration, the need to replace the beaten up buildings. But then he switches tone and introduces a source, a civil servant, who is surprised the paperwork went through so fast and is curious to know how the wheels were greased. There's a document cited, one of our expenditure sheets, with the salient details redacted, one expenditure highlighted.
"Lucius, who the fuck is messing with my biochemical division?!"
He frowns at me.
"We aren't sure."
"You handle the financials, Lucius."
I toss the paper back to him.
"Lord help me, this better be a fucking mix-up."
He paces and says, "I'm having someone look into it."
"No you're not."
I feel my nostrils flare as I breathe.
"You will do this yourself. You will track down the payment and you will explain this."
He nods and starts out, clipping the door shut behind him.
I spread my hands in front of my face, growl to myself and kick at the coffee table.
"Fuck!"
I breathe for a few moments, head full and sore, heart racing. I lap the office a couple of times, clutching my phone tight, then lean into the outer office.
"Tilda, could you clear my schedule?"
She nods.
"Is that all sir?"
I do my best to smile for her.
"Yes Tilda. Could you grab me lunch from a deli at one?"
"Yes sir," she says.
"And when you do, grab yourself something, we'll eat together while we reschedule today's meetings."
She nods again.
I push back on the door handles and close the doors. I put my head against the wood.
There's nothing for it.
I have to call him.
I dial Clark's work extension, hold my phone at arm's length and let it ring on speaker.
"Clark Kent, Daily Planet," he answers quickly.
"Clark," I start, but find myself gritting my teeth and shaking again.
"Bruce, Bruce," he starts.
"Don't, Clark. Get over here. I can't have this conversation on the phone."