It had taken nearly three weeks for Clark to get past his frustration over the Bureau 39 debacle. He’d all but had his ship in his grasp, and then that moron Trask had taken it away from him. Clark was certain that they weren’t done with those people. It was their history to show up at the least convenient time, and there was no evidence that they were changing their habits.
The story of their plane ride with Trask frustrated him, too. Perry hadn’t killed it, but he had gutted it, because so much of the information they wanted to use couldn’t be verified by outside sources. Cat was so mad after that meeting with the editor that she’d gone to the bank, broken a twenty-dollar bill into ones, and dropped them one at a time into the cuss jar, all without saying a word. He made sure to keep away from her for a couple of days. Even Lois walked on eggshells around her for that time.
The one unqualified positive event in that time was Clark moving from probationary status to full time. It meant a bump in pay, which he appreciated, and eligibility for health insurance, which he never expected to need. The three of them, plus Jimmy and Lucy, went to lunch on the Wednesday following the notification, and a good time was had by all, even if Clark was chivvied into picking up the full tab.
After the lunch, though, once they got back to the office, Cat and Lois got into an argument over a Superman story.
Clark watched and listened open-mouthed as the argument quickly intensified.
“The tone is too positive, Cat,” insisted Lois. “Superman did a good job with that truck wreck, but you’re writing him as if he’s Hercules reincarnated, eight feet tall and able to juggle Jupiter’s moons. We have to back down the rhetoric here.”
“But he is godlike! No one in recorded history has ever been able to do what he can do! Legendary heroes look like Barney Fife next to him!”
“It doesn’t matter. We report the news, not our opinions or our viewpoints. Hard facts! You taught me that.”
Cat slapped the folder in her hand down on Lois’ desk. “Well now I’m teaching you this! What Superman can do and what he stands for are good things! We have enough negative examples in the media. We need some positive ones. And I can’t think of a more positive example than Superman!”
Lois leaned in closer and growled back, “I agree with you! But that kind of thing belongs in an editorial, not on the front page! I’m not putting my byline on a puff piece no matter who the subject is!”
“Oh, you just can’t resist taking him down a peg, can you?”
“It’s better than hanging him on a peg no one can reach!”
Cat lifted her right hand and punched Lois on the front of her shoulder. “Why do you have to be right all the time?” Cat snarled.
Lois lifted her hands into an open-hand strike position. “You want to throw down over this? Right here, right now? Let’s do it!”
Clark stepped between them and shoved them apart. “Stop this right now! You two want to fight, there’s a dojo about seven blocks from here. Otherwise you’d both better back off before someone gets hurt.”
The women held each other’s gazes for a pair of long breaths, then both spun away as if on cue and went to their own desks. Clark waited for a moment to make sure they weren’t going for clubs or blades, then relaxed as they angrily started working again.
From behind him, Jimmy quietly said, “Chief wants to see you.”
Over his shoulder, Clark asked, “About what just happened?”
“My guess would be ‘yes’ but I don’t know for certain.”
“Okay, Jimmy. Hey, we need to go shoot some hoops or something pretty soon. I need some exercise.”
He heard the smile in the younger man’s quiet voice as Jimmy asked, “You mean keeping those two from killing each other isn’t enough of a workout?”
Clark grinned and winked at Jimmy, then walked to Perry’s office. He knocked on the door and stuck his head in. “You wanted to see me, Perry?”
“Come on in, son. Sit down and close the door. We need to chew the fat over what I just saw on my news floor.”
Clark flicked a glance at the aftermath of the argument between Cat and Lois. Both women were typing furiously on their computers and studiously ignoring each other. “I don’t know what to tell you, Chief. One minute they were calmly discussing a story and the next minute they were ready to tear each other to pieces.”
“I’m glad you were there to separate them. Lois probably would have hurt Cat, especially if she’d lost control of herself.”
Puzzled, Clark shook his head. “Were they ever like this before I came on board?”
Perry leaned back and linked his fingers over his belly. “No, they weren’t. And that’s what’s bothering me. They’re acting like they’re in junior high school and they both really like the same guy but they don’t want to talk about it so they fight about other things.” He asked the next question as if it meant nothing. “You, uh, know anything about a situation like that, Kent?”
He hesitated and exhaled deeply to give himself a moment. Should he tell Perry that he believed Cat wanted to reignite their old relationship and that Lois might feel jealous, either of his burgeoning relationship with Cat or her own nascent feelings for him? Or should he lie to his boss and stay out of their possible romantic rivalry? Could it be that, despite the ego boost the perceived rivalry gave him, that it was something else altogether?
He decided not to interfere. “No. I haven’t been on a date with either of them. Haven’t spent significant time with either one alone, unless it was related to a story we were working on. Nothing personal, at least not from my point of view.” He shrugged and sat back. “I’m just as baffled by this as you are.”
“Okay. Will you send the two of them in here? You can get back to work.”
“Sure, Perry.”
*****
Perry watched Cat and Lois approach his office like two killer whales circling the same seal. He also saw Clark suddenly pop his head up, grab Jimmy and say something to him, then vanish into the stairwell.
He’d find out what Clark was doing later.
For the moment, though, he had a situation he never thought he’d be in. Cat and Lois entered his office and stood at the far corners of his desk, as far from each other as they could get. “You two have a seat. We need to have a conversation.”
Lois perched herself on the far corner of the old sofa against the wall opposite Perry’s desk. Cat took one of the chairs, pulled it toward the door, and turned it so she could see both Lois and Perry before sitting. “We have a problem, ladies.”
Neither woman said anything. Perry continued, “All right. Which one of you wants to tell me what that problem is?” Still no response. “Neither of you, huh? In that case, I’ll start guessing. My first guess is that it’s bigger than a breadbox.”
Lois’ frown grew, but Cat’s eyes sparkled for a moment and the corners of her mouth twitched. “I think I’m getting closer,” said Perry. “Is this a personal problem rather than a professional one?”
That got reactions from each of them. They both shifted in their seats, lifted their heads, and focused on the editor. Perry didn’t think either of them realized how the other was responding to his guesses. They looked almost like mirror images of each other.
At least now he had a better handle on the cause of the problem.
“Look,” he said, “I sympathize with your situation. I really do. And I understand that you both feel – ‘unsettled’ would be a good word for it, I guess. But you have to understand my position. I can’t have two of my reporters, even as good as the two of you are, starting fights in the newsroom for any reason. You two need to make peace with each other somehow. Because if this keeps up, I may have to separate you as a team. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll have to let one of you go.”
He stood and moved to the front of the desk, equidistant from both women, and leaned back against it. “I don’t want to do either of those things. You two work together too well for me to lose the team or either one of you. But if this keeps up, I won’t have a choice. As much as I like you both, respect you both, and want both of you to do well, the Daily Planet has to come first with me. Okay?”
Both women silently nodded to him. “Then we’re all on the same page here? You two find a way to work together, either as a team or apart, or one of you goes. Understood?”
They nodded again, but Perry shook his head. “I need to hear you say that you understand.”
“I got it, Perry,” said Cat. “There will be peace between us.”
After a long moment, Lois added, “I got it too. Truce.”
Perry nodded. “Just to be clear, I’m taking ‘truce’ to be the functional equivalent of ‘peace’ in this context.” He stood straight and clapped his hands twice. “Now get out there and get me some quality stories!”
As they left the office, Jimmy rushed up in front of them. “There’s a report of a jumper on the roof of the South Metro Palisades apartment building. The crowd on the street is getting pretty amped up.”
Cat turned to Lois and asked, “Jeep or Porsche?”
“Whichever’s closer,” snapped Lois. “Let’s go!”
Perry’s mouth almost smiled. All it took was a hot story to get Lois and Cat to work together again. The sight made him proud of them.
*****
Superman landed on the edge of the roof of the North Metropolis Hilton, about eight feet from the young, well-dressed black man. The man turned and, with a bright smile, said, “The ‘S’ man himself. How’s it hangin’?”
“You don’t want to do this, sir. It’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”
“My problem? You wanna know my problem? I walked up to that guy down there—” he pointed to a middle-aged man at a coffee cart below them on the street “—and asked for a decaf cappuccino. Now, imagine my consternation when he doesn’t give me decaf! I’d already told him that caffeine makes me jumpy!”
Superman didn’t know if the pun was deliberate or not, so he didn’t smile. “That’s hardly a reason to go flying off the handle like this. Besides, if you did jump, I’d just catch you.”
“Flying off the handle, huh? That’s actually about as funny as my decaf line.” This time Superman smiled a little, and the man smiled back. “You know what, big ‘S’? I’ve decided to come down. Without jumping, too. I’ve seen the error of my ways.”
“Uh-huh. Let’s just step down here – that’s right. Now you go with the nice security guard—”
He was cut off by a woman’s terrified scream. He zipped away, located her falling from the roof of the South Metro Palisades building on the south side, and caught her before she’d made it half-way down.
The paramedics strapped her into a gurney as soon as they landed – and as soon as they could pull her off her rescuer. He puzzled over the details of the two jumpers’ behavior as he flew back to the Planet.
Normally a jumper would either be angry at him for stopping his or her death or be totally out of touch with reality. Neither the man nor the woman had acted – “normal,” for lack of a better term. The man had treated the whole episode like a joke. The woman, though, had been terrified. She might have been that rare one who realized death was waiting to welcome her on the sidewalk and was glad Superman had caught her, but still, she’d seemed too grateful to be caught. It was almost as if someone had pushed her off the roof. But if that were true, why didn’t she say so?
He’d have to do more research on these people. Maybe working on this together would help heal the rift between Lois and Cat.
*****
At eight-thirty the next morning, Lois, Clark, and Cat met in the conference room to compare notes. “Okay,” said Clark, “let’s get started.”
Lois frowned and said, “Wait a minute. Why is the rookie running this meeting?”
“Because ‘the rookie’ got this initial information from Superman,” Clark snapped. “And because he’s not in the editor’s doghouse. You both need to listen until it’s time for you to talk.”
Lois narrowed her eyes at him but kept her mouth closed. Given what Perry had told them the day before, it seemed to her the prudent path to take. “Good,” Clark said. “According to Superman, neither of those jumpers acted like potential suicides. The man was relaxed, almost joking with him, while the woman was terrified until he landed her on the ground. Even then, the paramedics literally had to pry her off him.”
“So Superman thinks this woman jumped just to get his attention?” Cat asked. “Is she some kind of kinky romantic nut where he’s concerned?”
“No. Even on the ground she was still too scared to walk or stand by herself, and she couldn’t stop crying while she thanked him. The EMTs said her blood pressure was dangerously high, and they had to sedate her before she’d let them strap her to the stretcher.”
Lois lifted her hand. “Can I talk now?”
Clark gave her a direct glare. “If you have information for us, yes.”
“I do. The name of the young man Superman talked down from the edge is Jules Johnson, street name of Fast Eddie. Used to be a street hustler and small-time con man until he entered a program called Bootstrap that turned him around. He’s now a junior executive at City Recovery, a non-profit set up to help the poor get out of gangs and into affordable housing. No arrests, no legal problems, not even a traffic ticket for the last two-plus years.”
“From the time he entered Bootstrap?”
“Yes.”
“Who funds Bootstrap? Who sponsors it?”
Lois shuffled papers for a moment until she found the one she needed. “They’ve got several high-dollar donors who regularly hire young recruits, including the Hilton hotel chain, LexCorp Industries, Wayne Industries, a medical assistant training program, and the city of Metropolis. They usually put those folks in maintenance and service slots.”
“Well, that’s not much help,” groused Clark.
“Hang on a minute,” said Cat. “Lois, you said Fast Eddie works at City Recovery, right?”
“Yes.”
“Where do they get their money?”
Lois searched through the papers again. “Um, a bunch of corporate donors. Arthur Chou, the Pembroke Initiative – they funnel money from small donors to major users, leveraging the money a lot like a mutual fund does – Wayne Industries, the Daily Planet—”
“What?” Cat broke in. “We donate to these guys?”
“Yeah. It comes from the ‘Charitable Giving’ box you check every year when you verify your 401(k) and tax deductions. Turns out the most money comes from the board of directors, but it’s tax deductible and anybody can pitch in.”
“Any other major donors?” asked Clark.
“Um, just LexCorp Industries.”
“Huh,” muttered Clark. “That’s interesting.”
“Why is that interesting?” Cat asked.
“Both Luthor and Wayne have fingers in these pies.”
Lois shook her head. “If you’re thinking that they’re working together, forget it. I’ve interviewed Bruce Wayne twice and Lex Luthor once in the past year, and their most common theme is that they dislike each other intensely.”
“What about Wayne’s interest in Bootstrap and City Recovery?” asked Cat.
“I think in this case he’s totally transparent. Wayne has a strong charitable presence in Metropolis – smaller than LexCorp’s but still significant. After all, LexCorp has a similar presence in Gotham.”
“Anything else?”
Lois’ smile turned predatory. “Could also be that both men are waiting for the other to make a mistake big enough to launch a takeover of the other’s assets. When I said they intensely dislike each other, I was understating the case.”
Clark tilted his head and said, “Understating by how much?”
“Think Australian salt-water crocodiles and anything that gets in the water with them. Or great white sharks and seals, if that’s your kink.”
Cat let a half-smile show. “Which one is the great white in that analogy?”
“Whichever one you’re talking to at the moment. The salient point is that ‘hate’ would not be an inaccurate term when comparing those two.”
Clark nodded. “Okay, I think we have a good handle on Fast Eddie. What about the woman?”
Cat lifted a paper but didn’t look at it. “Monique Kahn, no street name that I could find. She’s an executive for LexCon Construction in the accounting end of the business. Graduate of Wharton School of Business, B.A. and MBA. Her father Alvin was a mid-level underboss with the Taylor family until he turned state’s evidence on a half-dozen thugs and soldiers. Scuttlebutt is that the DA at the time, one Walter Dove, now deceased due to natural causes, wanted him to turn on Johnny Taylor but couldn’t convince him. Alvin is in witness protection somewhere out in Wyoming or Montana or Oregon. Bobby Bigmouth says that there’s an occasional rumor that Monique is under The Boss’ protection.”
Clark tapped the table. “Wait a minute. What ‘Boss’ are you talking about?”
“The alleged mind behind most of the crime in Metropolis, like Moriarty was to Sherlock Holmes.”
Lois lifted her hand to make a point, but Clark butted in again. “Wait a minute! Why am I just now hearing something about this Boss of yours?”
Lois turned to him instead. “Because we don’t really know anything about him. We don’t even know if he really exists. Cat thinks he’s an urban legend, like the Batman in Gotham City, and she might be right.”
“Just how much information do you have about this Boss?”
“Just hints and winks and nudges,” Cat answered, “and none of it is verifiable. Everything is like that tidbit about Monique – there’s at least one question mark next to it, sometimes several.”
“And before you ask again,” Lois broke in, “you’re just now hearing about it because you just came off your probationary period. That’s Perry’s rule, not ours. Newbies get to hear about the Boss when they’re permanent, full-time, and he thinks they’re ready.” She reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “You should feel privileged.”
A knock on the door startled all three of them. Jimmy stuck his head in the room and said, “Sorry, guys, but you need to know this. Can I come in?”
Clark nodded to him. “If we need to know it, you need to tell it.”
Jimmy entered and closed the door. “Thanks, CK. I just spoke with Dr. Newman at Metropolis Hospital. Your two little birdies were released this morning about seven-thirty.”
Lois’ mouth dropped open. “No way! They keep potential suicides under observation for at least 72 hours!”
“Not this time, Lois. Dr. Newman thinks Johnson never meant to jump at all. Monique Khan, though, was hysterical and got sedated at the scene.”
“Cat and I were both there, Jimmy. We know that.”
“Two things you may not know. First, the woman is pathologically afraid of heights, which makes her suicide attempt look even stranger. Second, while she was semi-lucid, she was mumbling something about a test.”
“What kind of test?” Cat asked.
Jimmy shrugged. “No one knows. One of the nurses tried to play down what Ms. Kahn was saying, but Newman put it in the chart anyway. He told me he’d never seen two people try to commit suicide in the same public way at the very same time. Not only that, but Dr. Newman wasn’t the shrink who signed their releases. It was some guy named Popovich.”
Clark nodded slowly. “Thanks, Jimmy. This may be important.”
“No problem, guys. Go get ‘em. Yay team and all that jazz.” He turned and left the room.
It was Lois’ turn to hide a smile. “Is that it, Boss?”
Clark gave her a glare that said he was ignoring the irony in her statement. “I think we’ve milked this cow dry. Let’s meet when—”
Jimmy burst back in through the door. “Sorry, but Perry wants the four of us to head to Third and Ordway, Carlin building. Report of a bomb in the lobby.”
The three of them burst from their chairs. “My Jeep has room for all of us,” Lois called out. “Jimmy, you have all your equipment ready to go?”
“I’m grabbing it now.”
“Then let’s roll, people!”
*****
As soon as Lois parked as close to the Carlin building as she could, Clark jumped out and yelled, “I got the south side!”
He disappeared into the crowd as the other three popped out of the Jeep. “Jimmy,” Lois ordered, “take the northeast corner. Cat, you take the northwest corner, I’ll cover the front entrance. Watch for Clark. Remember, people, run to trouble when you hear it.”
And she was gone. Cat turned to Jimmy and asked, “You okay with that, kiddo?”
He nodded. “More than okay. Let’s get in position.”
Cat was barely in place when Superman landed just outside the perimeter. He spoke with a police captain for a few seconds, someone Cat didn’t recognize, then slowly walked toward the front of the building. He paused to politely tell the beautiful but vacuous TV reporter Linda Montoya – the cheap slut, thought Cat – “no comment” on the air. If Superman were to have a bachelor party, Linda would joyfully come out of the cake stark naked and do a pole dance routine guaranteed to get her arrested.
In her mind she heard Lois chuckle and say, Come on, Red, quit beating around the bush and tell us how you really feel.
It was past time for them to make up and resume their friendship.
Cat looked at Jimmy and noted that he was at the northeast corner as instructed, taking pictures as if film cost nothing. She glanced at Lois, who was slowly walking toward the lobby door inside the security perimeter—
And then the front of the building exploded.
The force of the blast shoved Cat three steps back. By the time she regained her focus, Superman was walking out of the hole where the lobby doors had been, brushing dust from his hair and his uniform as he glanced around himself. Before anyone could ask him a question, he gave a small hop and rocketed away into the sky.
Cat estimated that a dozen or so bystanders had been knocked down by the blast. Jimmy was still on his feet, and she saw Clark sprinting along her side of the building from the back. Lois was lying on the street—
Lois!
Cat forgot she was a reporter and ran to Lois’ side. Somehow, both she and Clark skidded to a halt on either side of Lois just as the injured woman opened her eyes and coughed.
She tried to stand up as Cat tried to hold her still. “Uh-uh, Lois, hold on and let us check you over for cuts or contusions.”
“No – I have to – to get up and – and – do something.”
“As you were, Specialist Lane!” barked Clark. “Hold your position!”
Lois looked up at him and her eyes seemed to clear a bit. “You’re not – not in the chain of command, Kent. You can’t give me – orders.”
Cat caressed her friend’s hair. “Lois, honey, if that were me on the ground and you were kneeling beside me, you wouldn’t let me get up. Remember your training, okay?”
Lois blew out a sharp breath and settled back to the street with only a slight flinch. “Fine. I won’t – move unless and until an EMT clears me.”
Jimmy reached out and touched her hand. “Lois, I’m going to risk getting in trouble with Perry and ask you if I can turn in the shots of you in the explosion and on the ground.”
“You mean you photographed me almost getting blown up?”
“Yes. I did. And I got shots of Cat and Clark tending to you. But I won’t tell Perry I have them unless you give me permission.”
She stared at him for a few seconds, then broke into a grin. “Turn ‘em in, Jimmy. In this case I’m – ow – I’m part of the story, so I’m fair game. Good work.”
He smiled back. “Thanks, Lois. I’d better get back and get these developed. Wouldn’t want Perry to have an aneurism over my not having them ready.”
As Jimmy trotted off to find a cab, a stocky Native American EMT knelt beside Lois. “Okay, ma’am,” she said, “my name is Lisa. Are you ready for me to check you out?”
Lois grabbed Lisa’s hand and sat up. “I’m a former Army field medic and I know my body. Give me another minute and I’ll be fine.”
Lisa smiled. “Navy corpsman, assigned to a Marine combat unit in northern Ethiopia. I was an E-6 when I separated from the service. How about you?”
Lois’ voice gentled in the presence of a fellow veteran. “Specialist E-4, Silver Star, Purple Heart, separated disabled.”
Lisa’s voice took on a respectful quality. “You’d be Lois Lane.”
Lois shrugged. “No one else would do it, Petty Officer.”
Cat’s snigger made Lisa smile. “Then you know the drill, Specialist Lane. You stay there until I check you over to make sure you’re not surprised when you stand up. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Good.”
Lisa took Lois’ vital signs, then checked Lois’ legs under her dress from hips to toes as Clark modestly turned his head. Then she worked both arms and hands and put slight pressure on her back to check for bruises or cracked ribs. Last, she palpitated Lois’ belly and chest.
“Okay, Specialist Lane, the only thing wrong with you right now that I can find is that cut near your hairline. I’ll clean, disinfect, and slap a butterfly bandage on it. I don’t think you’ll need stitches as long as you take it easy for a couple of days. Close your eyes, please.”
“I’m cut?” Lois touched her forehead and looked startled as it came away bloody. “I didn’t even feel it.”
“Don’t fool with skin cuts while the medic is working on you.” Lisa fitted her treatment to her words. “Lots of small wounds don’t register when they happen, and you know that. Sometimes bigger ones do the same thing. Let’s see – yeah, more blood than cut. Looks like a piece of concrete clipped you. Here we go – got it. Ready to try vertical?”
Lois reached out one hand to Lisa and the other to Clark as Cat stood behind her. “Got to do it some time.” She stood and spread her feet, then slowly rotated her shoulders.
“How do you feel?” asked Lisa.
“Like one of the guys in my unit forgot we were playing touch football and tackled me.”
Lisa nodded. “You’re very lucky to have gotten away with being that close to the blast. Another few feet and we would have been scraping up what was left of you with a spatula. You ever been that close to being blown up?”
“Not on purpose, no.”
The three people around her grinned. “Okay,” said Lisa, “you know this part of the drill, too. Take it easy for the rest of the day and tomorrow, use some over-the-counter pain meds if you need them but do not overdose yourself, and head for the hospital or call an ambulance if the pain gets too bad or if you have any symptoms of infection. If you need to clean up, and I think you do, don’t get the bandage wet. Take a bath, not a shower, and use dry shampoo spray. Don’t be a hero, either. The quicker you get the help you need, the quicker you’ll be back at work throwing yourself in the line of fire.”
“Thanks, Lisa,” said Clark. “But how did you know she dives into the line of fire instead of running away?”
Lisa gave Lois a non-professional smile. “Because that’s what I did. And she’s a lot like me.”
“Lisa?” Cat said. “Do you mind telling us your last name? I want to mention you in our article.”
“Your article?”
Clark smiled and said, “We’re reporters for the Daily Planet. We’ll do a story on this incident, and we want to make sure you get the recognition you deserve.”
Lisa’s face went almost blank. “I don’t do this for the recognition, sir.”
“We know that,” answered Cat. “This is more like a ‘thank-you’ for helping our teammate.”
Lisa frowned slightly. “What do you think, Specialist Lane?”
Lois lifted one eyebrow. “I’d like to know your last name, too, if only to remember to whom to be grateful.”
Lisa almost grinned. “That’s an awkward sentence just to keep from ending on a preposition.”
Lois’s almost grin matched Lisa’s. “Yeah, well, that’s something up with which I cannot put.”
Lisa laughed. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but only because you quoted Winston Churchill and convinced me that your brain isn’t scrambled too badly. It’s Fairchild, Lisa Fairchild.”
Cat smiled warmly. “Thank you, Lisa. We’ll push for a raise for you.”
“Just don’t catch any more bomb splinters and I’ll be happy.” She stood and looked around. “Gotta go, folks. My job’s not done yet.”
Lisa turned to seek another victim of her ministrations. Cat turned to Lois and said, “You need to go home for the rest of the day. Take the cell phone with you after I call Perry and explain what’s going on. And when I say ‘go home,’ I don’t mean ‘drop by the office for extra work first.’ You know what the Chief would say, and he is in the chain of command above you.”
Lois frowned at her. “Are you in the chain of command too, Cat?”
Cat put her fists on her hips and glared. “You’re wounded. You need rest. I’m just saying what Lisa already told you. You go home now. Agreed?”
“Just as soon as I talk to the bomb squad—”
“No! Clark and I will take care of that. You head for home!”
Cat turned away and lifted the cell to dial Perry’s desk. Behind her, she heard Clark say, “We can handle this, Lois. You need to rest. It isn’t likely or Lisa would have mentioned it, but it’s possible that you suffered minor internal concussion injuries. I’m surprised you don’t have any hearing loss.”
Lois’ smile was obvious in her words. “Too many fifty-caliber rounds going off in my ears, I guess. I’ve already suffered some loss. Learned to read lips when I’m close enough and I can usually fill in the blanks through context.” She sighed. “Okay, I’ll go home and rest. Can I at least write up what I’ve learned so far?”
“Sure. Cat and I will come by after dinner to check on you. We can merge our stories then.” Cat saw him tap Lois’ shoulder out of the corner of her eye. “And get some sleep, okay? You’re probably more tuckered out than you realize. Come on, I’ll get you a cab.”
As Clark put Lois in the cab, Cat finished briefing Perry on the blast, including the preliminary police report, told him that Lois was headed home for the night and that they’d check on her, and that Jimmy was bringing what were probably the best still photos of the explosion anyone had gotten. The editor grunted, then said, “You two come back here to write up what you have. Go merge your stuff with Lois’ take. And then make sure Lois is okay before you leave her place.”
“Will do, Perry. As always, you have a heart of gold.”
He snorted. “Yeah, well, my shoes are full of lead or I’d be out there with you. Make sure you have a good story to give me.”
*****
Clark made sure Lois got in a taxi headed for her apartment, then turned to find Catharine. She was standing near a table where a police officer was examining some specific debris. Their eyes met and she waved for him to join her.
“Clark, this is Police Lieutenant Max Perkins, bomb squad commander. He was in the Middle East the same time Lois was, except he was defusing improvised explosive devices. Lieutenant, would you tell Clark what you started to tell me?”
Perkins looked at each of them in turn. “I can do a little better than that. My guys just found some very interesting stuff. This—” he pointed to a larger piece of metal “—is what’s left of a pipe bomb. What’s interesting is that it wasn’t filled with gunpowder and ball bearings like the IEDs in the Middle East or the ones that crooks in the States use. It was filled with C4.”
Clark frowned. “Don’t you need a detonator for that, like a blasting cap?”
“Yes. These parts here—” he indicated a pile of light metal and plastic “—were part of that detonator. And the wires on this piece tell me that it was connected to a radio receiver.”
Catharine shuddered. “What was the range of the transmitter?”
“It depends,” Perkins said. “If this was set to go off just by sending a pulse on a specific frequency, there’s no telling.”
Clark’s eyes narrowed. “But you don’t think that’s what happened, do you?”
Perkins shook his head. “No. I think this was set to go off when a specific digital signal was sent, almost certainly in the high band, to prevent a premature detonation. Otherwise any stray radio signal, from police band to CB, could have set it off. I think this was a short-range signal, probably a line-of-sight transmission, which means the bomber was almost certainly in the crowd watching.”
Catharine swore quietly but eloquently and with feeling. Clark looked at her and said, “I think Lois is a bad influence on you. You owe the jar at least four dollars for that little speech.”
She glared back. “I’ll drop in a censored IOU.” She turned to Perkins. “So what we have is a complex, sophisticated bomb setup that was manually triggered when Superman entered the building, right? Sounds like the work of a professional.”
“You’ve got it. My guys will analyze the C4 residue for chemical markers and try to track down the manufacturer. And if enough of the detonator mechanism survived the explosion, we’ll track down the parts makers.”
“Good,” said Cat. “We’ll work on trying to find out who benefits from trying to blow up Superman. We’ll keep you in our loop if you keep us in yours.”
“Sure thing,” said Perkins. “I’ll even tell you what we don’t learn so our investigations don’t step on one another.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant. Come on, Clark, let’s go catch some bad guys.”
He shrugged at Perkins. “I have to go now. She’s above me in the chain of command.”
Last edited by Terry Leatherwood; 05/14/20 02:01 PM.
