Chapter 2
The first sign Clark had that anything was amiss was a high pitched buzz on his desk phone.
He was in the middle of talking to a source when the sound impinged on his hearing. It was familiar; a high pitched electronic whine, inaudible to the human ear but irritating to his more sensitive hearing. He puzzled over it for a moment while continuing his conversation, trying to place where he'd heard it before.
When the answer occurred to him, it was all he could do not to drop the receiver in shock.
A bug.
Someone had bugged his phone.
He finished his conversation on autopilot, his mind racing. Gingerly he replaced the receiver and regarded it thoughtfully. The bug couldn't have been there for very long; he hadn't heard anything out of place on the line the previous night. This had been the first call he'd made or received so far today. Mentally he reviewed the conversation; nothing of importance there, he'd simply been tying some loose ends for a follow up to yesterday's story.
The question was, who had bugged his phone? And was his the only phone affected?
He let his Super hearing kick in, making a face as the cacophony of phones ringing, keyboards clicking, people talking and the ever present deep rumble of the printing presses washed over him. Concentrating, he filtered out the extraneous sounds one by one, focussing on the whine of the bug. As far as he could tell, his was the only phone that was tapped. That seemed to argue against the possibility of it being a rival news organisation; they'd be more likely to tap Lois's phone as well if they were after scoops. No, it appeared as though he, personally, was being targeted.
That was far more disturbing.
Swallowing hard, Clark tried to tell himself that it had nothing to do with Superman- but failed. When you spent your entire life hiding something, it was hard not to jump to the worst conclusion possible.
He needed to find out who'd bugged his phone.
Briefly he toyed with the idea of enlisting Lois's help, but just as quickly dismissed it. They weren't exactly on the best of terms lately; his attempt to warn her about Lex Luthor after they'd been held hostage at the Planet had backfired, putting her on guard with him, Clark, instead of with Luthor as he'd intended. Besides, if the bug was connected with his... extracurricular activities... he was by no means sure that he wanted anyone else to know, especially someone as close to Luthor as Lois had become.
He sat back in his chair, considering. There was a possibility, albeit a remote one, that it was an official wiretap; perhaps even the beginnings of another government witch hunt into Superman. If that was the case, somewhere there would have to be a court order for the wiretap. Perhaps he could ask his friend Roger Templeton to look into it. Working at the FBI gave him access to records that Clark didn’t have. Mentally he shook his head. He could just imagine the conversation. “Hi Roger, it’s Clark. How’s the family? Oh by the way, do you know anything about my phone being bugged?”
No, that wouldn’t do. If it was an official wiretap, Roger could get in trouble for discussing it with its target. And if it wasn’t an official bug, disclosing its existence to a federal agent meant sparking an investigation which might well put Clark’s secret in jeopardy. Wiretapping, after all, was a felony.
Jimmy? Clark discarded that avenue of inquiry as well. Jimmy might be able to find out if there was a court order, but involving him would mean telling him about the bug.
No, Clark would have to try and get to the bottom of this one alone.
****
The question of the bug distracted Clark all day. He kept telling himself that it probably wasn’t connected to Superman and that there were myriad reasons why his phone could have been tapped.
Finally reaching his apartment that evening, he sighed in relief. He unlocked the door, intending to do nothing more than get comfortable and call his parents. He took the steps into the living area in a fair approximation of his usual stride- and froze.
Someone had been in his apartment.
Some of the various knickknacks and souvenirs he’d collected in his travels had been rearranged. The difference was subtle but noticeable, at least to him. Whoever it was had left behind a faint scent of cheap aftershave and some sort of acrid, chemical smell. He furrowed his brow. The question was, what else had they left behind?
Gingerly he picked up the phone, hoping that the electronic buzzing he’d heard at the Planet wouldn’t be present. His shoulders drooped when the obnoxious noise made its presence felt. Replacing the receiver, he straightened up. If they’d bugged his home phone, what else had they done? Minutely he scanned the apartment, his lips compressing in anger as he came across the tiny hidden microphones in the living area and attached to the picture frame that stood on his night stand.
Closely he examined the bug that had been affixed to the back of one of the figurines on the bookshelf. It was clear that the device recorded sound only. He didn’t know much about this kind of surveillance equipment, but it wasn’t difficult to disable electronic equipment. A quick blast of heat vision did the trick for both of the hidden microphones, but he was wary of disabling the wiretap on his phone as well; having two fail was just barely within the realm of possibility, but having all three surveillance devices drop out close to simultaneously might just attract the kind of attention he was trying to avoid.
Clark weighed the now defunct microphones in his hand, thinking rapidly. As much as he hated to worry them, he had to tell his parents about this. If someone was after Superman, it affected them too- Trask’s actions, several months previously, had rammed that lesson home.
He put the bugs back in their original positions to allay suspicion before taking flight for Kansas.
