Among The Prostitutes

Lana Lang sniffled as she laid out what Lois Lane told her about the missing women. She nodded, gaining control of herself. When she finally spoke, it was a single word.

"Whores."

"No need to be judgmental," Lois said, wiping the last of the tears from Lana's face with a kleenex.

"No, I mean...this club is a cover for a prostitution ring. College women, young but legal, needing extra money go downstairs to 'model.' I've seen the flyers advertising that kind of thing all around here. You just need to be able to parse what they're really selling."

Lois nodded. "You think it might be a cover for...something nastier? ****, human trafficking?"

Lana raised a hand and the reporter grabbed it, levering the redhead back onto her feet.

"I don't know, but there's only one way to find out." Lois squeezed Lana's hand. "Think you can handle that?"

The redhead glared at her. Lois was struck by how pretty she was when she was angry, the blue eyes flashing.

"I'm not some fainting damsel in distress, Lois Lane!"

Lois grinned. "No you're not. So c'mon...let's go start our 'modeling' careers."

Lana's anger faltered for a moment. "If uh...if it goes too far..."

"We'll tell them we're strictly doing girl-on-girl scenes." Lois promised. Then the imp of the perverse struck her and she added: "But if it comes down to it, we still have the Plan B pill."

"Don't even joke about that!" Lana hissed, pulling her skirt down and blushing.

They left the bathroom together, back into the noise and bustle of the club. Found the stairs downward without too much trouble and descended the long, dark spiraling concrete steps, heels clicking, clinging to the sticky rails for their life.

The pair of women emerged into a hallway lit by a flickering bulb...old sub-basement space. There was a door across the hall. A tall man with a shaved head, shoulders like a linebacker, steel-toed boots laced over combat trousers was standing in front of it. He was wearing shades in doors, and a tight-fitting black t-shirt with SECURITY printed on it in bold yellow letters.

"Can I help you ladies?" His voice was gruff, confident.

"We heard you were looking for models," Lois said brightly.

An eyebrow rose. "You're a little old."

Lois threw up an arm to prevent Lana from charging him. The smile on the reporter's face hadn't faded.

"We're getting our masters degrees in library science. A good education is expensive."

The goon scratched his chin. He wrapped his knuckles once on the door. It opened a crack.

"Hey B," the guard said. "We gotta couple of..."