Part 13 ----------
Part 14-AMichel paused in mid-stride, just outside the door to his office. Even though it was several hours before most of his co-workers usually started drifting in, he apparently wasn't as alone as he'd hoped to be, this morning: his door was slightly ajar, and he could hear footsteps inside, as well as the sounds of items and papers being moved around. “How does this guy ever find anything in here?!” someone complained.
After a moment's hesitation, Michel pushed the door the rest of the way open. An army of people in suits and earpieces were industriously rifling through his things. At his entrance, they paused briefly to look up at him, then resumed their search. “Ah, hello?” Michel tried. “Can I help you?”
A brunette with a clipboard and a tight bun strode up to him. “Dr, Renaud,” she greeted him, extending a hand, “I'm Courteney Bass-Arquette, liaison with the United States government. We understand that your lab has been studying a classified meteorite, which is now slated for transfer to Washington. I'm here to facilitate this transfer...if you could just tell us where the sample is currently being kept?”
“Who told you about this meteorite?” Michel asked. As far as he knew, only one other person, besides Clark, knew that it was even here. But, surely Susanne wouldn't....
“Our governments have always worked closely together in the past,” Mrs. Bass-Arquette assured him. “Your superiors might have informed you that the sample originally came from Wichita?”
“My superiors don't—” Michel froze. It began to dawn on him that something here was very, very wrong. “You are not from the American government,” he realized. “You are not from any government!”
Mrs. Bass-Arquette frowned at him, then reached past him to push the door closed. “Dr. Renaud,” she said softly, “You seem like a nice man, so I'll ask you nicely: where is the rock?”
Michel was aware of a series of clicking sounds, and he turned to find several guns pointed in his direction. He swallowed. 'Clark!' he thought, intensely. 'If there is any chance that you can hear me at all, I could really use some super help right now!'
“Headache, Dr. Renaud?” Mrs. Bass-Arquette asked, sweetly.
“Er, just give me a moment, please,” Michel replied with a nervous chuckle, pressing his fingers to his temples. 'Clark! Seriously, I need you here, now!'
“Got it,” one of the supposed 'agents' finally said, pulling open Michel's safe with enough force to knock over the quartzite samples next to it and send some of the papers on top of it sliding to the floor. He lifted out the lead box containing the Kryptonite.
'Clark!' Michel concentrated, furiously. 'Urgent! Danger! France! Why is this not working?!'
“Make sure that's it,” Mrs. Bass-Arquette ordered the man. “We don't want to tell the boss that we got the wrong thing, now do we?”
With a nod, the suited gorilla opened the box, flooding the room with the toxic, green glow of Kryptonite. Michel tried his best to hide his reaction to the sudden, burning pain that now filled every cell of his body. “Looks like it,” another 'agent' noted.
Sweat began to bead on Michel's forehead as he fought a losing battle to remain standing. He was just starting to wonder if he could somehow lie down without them noticing, when mercifully, they shut the box again. “Well, Dr. Renaud,” Mrs. Bass-Arquette said amidst the ringing in his ears, “it seems we won't be needing your help after all.” One of her goons suddenly grabbed Michel by the arms.
“But you know,” she continued as she meandered over to one of the over-flowing shelves, “you really shouldn't come to work when you're so clearly sick. It leads to...accidents.” She picked up one of his samples of elemental potassium. “Tragic accidents.”
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