This chapter is dedicated to my anonymous big brother, who as of last week didn’t know about this story or about fanfiction in general at all. He came upon me as I was writing chapter 31, and with practiced speed I quickly shut my laptop, but for once he was not willing to take the usual dismissal that I was doing “nothing.” Upon his insistence (and because of his wounded-puppy dog expression) I admitted the truth and explained it all to him. Though I think he is not fully uncritical of our fanfictionish way of being, he nonetheless has read all of DD that is posted. He actually contributed very significantly in the editing and suggestions for this next chapter, after listening to my rantings about how certain parts of it were very dissatisfying to me.
Of course, he is also greatly responsible for the fact that it took an extra day and a half to get this chapter out, due to the fact that he gave me some ideas that could not be ignored. So if you don’t want to thank him, I put all blame that would land on me on him.
I hope you enjoy. Please remember to review!
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Chapter 32: Eagle, Fox, or Snake?
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All of Clark’s hopes and illusions crashed back down onto him as he found that his feet hadn’t lifted even an inch from off the firm ground beneath him.
He found he couldn’t move, not even to let Lois go. His arms were around her, but he began to shake. They were still there, standing in the middle of a trash-strewn alley under a grey sky. They were trapped.
Lois had been leaning forward, intent on the approaching guard, when suddenly Clark caught her from behind, spun her around, and wrapped his arms around her like she was a giant teddy bear before going completely still.
What the...?“Clark! What are you—?” Lois struggled against him, but Clark hold on her didn’t relax. He seemed to have frozen, and his arms were stiff around her, though they began to shake slightly, and his dark eyes drifted down from the space of sky between the two tall warehouses around them and he looked at her, his expression pale and shocked. “Clark—!”
“All right, you lovebirds. Hands up.”
Lois went still and both she and Clark turned their faces towards the man slowly, both of them caught in white expressions of stark fear. A moment later the second guard appeared in their view, his own gun raised.
Lois swore, and the blood drained from Clark's face.
No. Nonononononono…
They hadn’t flown. He was grounded—trapped again. Caught and caged like a bird with its wings clipped.
What could he do? He could use his laser vision to melt their guns, but how could he explain that? He could use superspeed to take out the guards, but he couldn’t kill them. He couldn’t cross that line. But if they lived they would remember his face, and perhaps realize that the as-of-yet-dismissed man that was shivering like a leaf in the wind behind Lois Lane was none other than the superhero himself.
And then his family, his friends, his life…nothing would be safe.
But what was the alternative? The bland grey walls of the buildings rose up around him, but he saw white walls instead.
“Hands up,” the soldier repeated, gesturing sharply with his gun.
Lois’s throat was too tight to speak, right now, though she had well been waiting for the soldier—and even, perhaps, more than one—to appear.
She pried herself away from Clark’s slack but somehow still somewhat firm embrace, pushing him away from her with a little more force than was necessary. She took enough time to give him a disgusted look before she turned to the soldier, her expression set and defiant despite her washed-out color.
We are not
lovebirds, Lois wanted to snap, feeling a rise of fury at her partner, who was now no doubt quivering behind her. Right now, she wasn’t even sure if she felt much like even
tolerating the man’s cowardice. She was too busy fighting her own terror to worry about Clark’s.
They had her. They had her. They had her. They had her.Lois stifled the gibbering voice mercilessly, gritting her teeth and concentrating on righteous anger.
These men might very well be a part of Bureau 39—the people responsible for hurting Superman. They might be part of the other government group, seeking to follow Bureau 39’s example. And Clark Kent had reacted by the guard’s appearance like a baby grabbing his mother’s apron. What had
that been about?
Useless idiot.“I already called backup,” the second man said grimly to the first. “We’ve got them covered.”
“Backup?” Lois repeated, taking the opportunity to find her voice again, though it was slightly hoarse. “I-I see my reputation precedes me.” She cleared her throat.
Nonononononono…
Shut up! She pushed the maddening rambling of fear into the smallest corner of her mind, and though it still continued to gibber, she could ignore it for now.
The guard frowned at her as he slid his radio onto his belt.
“We’ve been expecting you,” he said flatly.
“How?” Lois demanded, and was pleased at the sharp edge of her voice this time. No trace of fear, uncertainty, or nervousness. She was in control.
She wasn’t going to think of what might happen, if...She crossed her arms boldly before her to hide their shaking.
“No one knew we were coming here, except for us, the taxi driver, and…” Lois trailed off. The taxi driver wouldn’t have had time to alert anyone, even if she had been unfortunate enough to choose the one taxi in the city with a government undercover operative. That left only one person. “Bobby Bigmouth,” she said, her voice like frozen venom. Why, that snake! The double-crosser had double-crossed them. Betrayal struck through her heart like a lance, followed quickly by anger like a roaring furnace.
One more man to be pinned up on a dart board, once she got out of here. They would all pay.
“No questions,” the soldier stated. “Come out and follow our directions. No false moves either, Miss Lane. We know what you’re capable of.”
Lois didn’t move for a moment, and neither did the guns. She stepped forward slowly, causing the soldiers to back out slightly to keep her in sight of their guns, but distant enough to be safe from any possible attack.
“You too, lover-boy.”
Lois realized that Clark still hadn’t moved. She had almost forgotten him, in the tight, closed place of her mind—she wasn’t letting anything leak in or out. She couldn’t afford it, right now. But as she turned slightly she found that he was still frozen stark-still and was staring at the guards almost unseeingly.
The man was going into shock, Lois thought.
Clark felt frozen. His legs were leaden, and his lungs had risen into his throat and were choking him, even as his heart grew into a painful knife in his chest. He couldn’t breathe, and the world was beginning to blur before his eyes.
No. He had to focus on something…it wasn’t real. But it
was real. They had come back. They’d found him again.
No. They didn’t know it was him. They didn’t know.
“Clark!”
Lois’s voice was sharp and impatient, cutting through the veil and catching him by the throat to yank him back to reality. It certainly wasn’t as pleasant as other times when she had helped him back, but it worked, more or less.
He consciously filled his tightened lungs with too-thin air and focused on breathing. He would be no good to either of them if he had a panic attack.
But he still hadn’t moved. One of the guards stepped forward, clearly set on using some force if necessary, and Lois made her own move.
Her hand hadn’t left her purse, even during the awkward bear hug that Clark had given her, and now she pulled out the gun she held as the guard put his attention towards the unmoving man. The soldier didn’t have time to react before Lois sighted him and pulled the trigger.
He went down with a jerk as the electricity that shot from Lois’s taser through him and effectively paralyzed him.
A bare moment later no less than five more guards rushed into the small alley. The shocked man was dragged aside, and Lois stood, outwardly calm and still as they milled around her and yanked the taser from her hand, even while her mind was jabbering nonsensical terror once again.
She was above these scum. She had their necks halfway in a noose already, and they just didn’t know it. She took a deep breath and held it to try and still her shaking as they took the taser and her purse from her before searching her for any more weapons and pulling her arms behind her back to handcuff them there.
She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
Superman wasn’t here. They couldn’t hurt her. She had nothing to worry about, only justice.
She had no reason to fear. This was her big break, after weeks of searching. This was her triumph. She had to remember that, no matter how much she wanted to break down into a heap of desperate sobs and cries, and to turn and flee the nightmares of memory.
They had her.
Stop that, curse you, Lois snarled at the quivering girl in her head. She wouldn’t think about that now. Now, she was nothing. A machine of justice, with no past…no memories. No memories of waking with hot tears of desperation and fear on her face, no memories of screams and blood and desperation…
Clark was pulled out of his frozen state as he felt a hand grab at his arm roughly—right over his still-tender scar as a soldier tried to yank it behind his back to restrain him. He gasped and pulled back sharply at the contact, losing his balance and hitting into the dumpster behind him.
Crack!His head slammed back, no doubt leaving a good-sized dent in the metal.
Nonononononono.Lois turned sharply at the noise, to find that Clark had fallen back against the dumpster, and was now pressed against it as if he might push right through the metal bin as he tried to get away from the guard in front of him. He clutched one arm against his stomach, and Lois was surprised at the shock of pain that darted through her heart at the thought that they might have hurt him.
Kal-El.She didn’t see Clark there. She saw Superman, pressed against the wall as he tried to get away from the guards as if he could vanish against the white walls around him. His face was pale and terrified, his eyes blank with memories of his own.
Clark clutched his arm that the guard had tried to twist, cradling it against his stomach in remembered pain. Hands grasped at him, and he pushed back further, trying to get away from them. The dumpster groaned softly at the pressure from his back.
“C-Clark,” Lois said insistently. “Clark, listen to me!”
Clark froze, going absolutely still as if her words were some sort of spell. His eyes didn’t move from the guard in front of him. He looked like he was going to pass out, or be sick, or maybe both.
That would do no good, Lois thought. If it became necessary for her to take some action, she didn’t want to have to worry about an unconscious Goliath of a farm boy, especially if she had to worry about him choking on his own stomach’s contents at the same time.
“Clark, look at me,” Lois said, slowly and firmly, though her voice shook the slightest bit, but that was all the sign of her own fear, besides the slight remaining pallor of her own face.
Her tone demanded that he obeyed. Clark didn’t have any choice in the matter. His eyes slid slowly from the guard towards her, and he blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Lois.” It was little more than a whisper. He blinked and shook his head, and Lois was immediately concerned. Had he hit his head when he fell against the dumpster? But as she watched his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and he slowly uncurled his arms from around himself and put them on the ground beside him to lift himself up. He rose slowly, and an angle of sunlight that lanced between the two tall buildings on either side of them turned into a strange, golden halo in the dark hair framing his pale face. The guards watched him warily.
“S-sorry,” Clark muttered, and reached up to push up his glasses in a nervous action that seemed almost ridiculous in the face of the fear that had grasped him only moments before. Lois stared at him in disbelief at the apology. Was he joking, or just insane? His eyes went back to the guard and his jaw tightened again, his breathing catching slightly.
“Listen, Smallville,” Lois said firmly, managing to sound very critical despite—or perhaps because of—her pounding heart. “Panicking isn’t going to help us right now.”
Clark looked away from her, almost ashamedly, but he did nod. One of the guards stepped forward and caught his arms, but he did little more than flinch as the metal closed around his wrists. He pulled tentatively at the handcuffs, and felt his fear ease marginally as he felt the metal begin to bend easily with the motion. He was still unnaturally pale as they went through his clothes in search of any weapons. After a moment they pulled a pocketknife from his right pocket, and Clark opened his mouth to object.
His Dad had given him that knife, years and years ago.
At the last moment Clark caught the words and closed his mouth again, biting his lip and looking down. Right. Like these people would let him keep a knife for sentimental reasons.
He was losing it.
They were prodded forward, and Lois walked forward proudly, while Clark stumbled slightly to catch up to her side. He waited for a moment, still chewing on his lip before realizing what he was doing and consciously stopping. He looked around cautiously, looking for some chance of escape without doing anything unusual.
Conversely, Lois looked quite calm, and her eyes barely wavered from straight ahead. Her eyes were narrowed and her mind spinning as she walked boldly into the lion’s den with a whip and a fiery brand.
If she was going to be caught again, she was going to be the ones asking the questions.
After a moment Clark leaned slightly and spoke softly, though Lois thought that was useless considering the fact that their captors would have little problem hearing him.
“Lois,” Clark said. “S-stay close, okay? We…we’re better off t-together, you know?”
Despite the serious circumstances, Lois was tempted to roll her eyes. Like Clark Kent could do anything to help her, but he was right about one thing—he’d be in big trouble if it weren’t for her.
“Don’t worry, Clark,” Lois said, whispering herself, though she wanted to kick herself from falling into the he’s-whispering-so-I-am-whispering trap. She leaned in slightly, actually bumping his arm with her own. “Just don’t, you know, do anything…sssstupid, okay?” she emphasized, and hoped he picked up the hint.
Clark looked at her blankly at that, and Lois sighed, wishing she had her hands to gesture her meaning. “You know…no, well,
super stuff, okay?”
Clark stiffened at her words, his eyes widening as he pulled away and stared at her. “What?” his whisper was almost harsh.
Did Lois know?Lois wanted to scream. Was the man
really that dense? She had enough to worry about without having to deal with a terrified tagalong who couldn’t see a brick wall if he ran into it!
She leaned in, speaking even softer into his ear, and her warm breath brushed against the side of his neck. “Don’t you dare call him, Clark.”
She saw his brow smooth at his words and the smallest bit of color came back into his cheeks—probably from embarrassment, Lois thought. “Oh. Of—of course, Lois.”
He still didn’t look very stable, Lois thought. He looked as tense as a stretched cable ready to snap, and as her arm rubbed against his she could feel the small quivers that moved down his tall frame. Gritting her teeth, she leaned forward again.
“Clark, I promise, everything will be okay. Just…stay close to me, like you said. Trust me.”
Trust her. Trust her after she had dragged him into this, only a few weeks after their last imprisonment, though that time it hadn’t been together. Still, the man had clearly been affected by it, even if nothing had really happened to him. For people not conditioned to it like Lois, she was not sure how much it would take to get over such a thing.
Besides, this was Clark Smallville Kent, the innocent Boy Scout with wide blue eyes and an open expression. When Bureau 39 had nabbed him, it had been as bad as kidnapping a little kid. It was no surprise he was a bit shaken up. His whole world had been turned on end.
Lois had always known that the world was a dirty, nasty place to be, with only a few moments when you were able to step away and drift above the clouds…
Superman.She gritted her teeth, stamping down on her thoughts again. She was going to focus. She was going to solve this, for him.
Curse the man for leaving her.
Lois pulled away from Clark’s side, walking independently again, and he watched her.
He was okay. They didn’t know who he was. They had no reason to suspect him.
He could protect her.
There was no sign of any kryptonite yet. But Lois had told him—as Superman—that a government operation had taken the compound from Bureau 39. These men could belong to that group, and they could very well have the green crystal. They could just be waiting…
Waiting for Superman to show up.
But Lois’s tone had been more than just a warning when she told him not to call Superman. It had been more than accepting a fate in order to save the superhero. No. Her eyes had a light behind them—something keeping her own fear and desperation away. She had a plan, for something.
And if he needed to, he would get her out of there in a moment, no matter the consequences to himself.
They didn’t speak as they were ushered to the side door and allowed inside. The warehouse was open and bare, with skeletons of metal columns reaching up to the webbed catwalks that stretched across the high ceilings. The floor was dusty and empty bins lay scattered around like giant dust bunnies.
The group stopped, and Clark heard one of their guards speaking softly into a hand set to another man—the smoking unknown man, as Clark recognized his voice away from the ring of almost suffocating thrumming of heartbeats around him.
“You’ve got her?”“Yes sir.”
“Secure?”“As ordered.”
“Very well.”“Sir?”
“Yes?”“She’s not alone, sir. There’s a man with him. Tall, dark-haired.”
A pause.
“A threat?” “I’m not sure, sir.”
“Very well. Hold them for me.”Clark stiffened as he heard the man stand—he must have been sitting, considering the sigh and soft grunt that came before the footsteps. A door eased open, and Clark heard the steps coming down a hallway from some offices on the other side of the large warehouse space.
“I want to talk to McPheron, or whoever is in charge here,” Lois demanded to the guards around her, her voice firm and in-control despite the guard that had come to stand behind her. Clark shifted slightly, coming closer to her almost protectively. She actually felt somewhat comforted by his tall shadow beside her for a moment, though the idea was ridiculous. Still, Clark was quite a bit taller than any of the guards there, and having him close made her feel safer, no matter how useless he really was right then.
Foolish subconscious mind, Lois swore, then cut off that train of thought viciously, turning her attention back on the guards. “Who are you with? What do you want?” The gazes of the hard-faced men turned on her. Clark stiffened slightly and opened his mouth to speak, but Lois nudged him sharply and sent a warning glare in his direction, effectively shutting him up, though he didn’t look settled. He shifted awkwardly beside her.
The guard with the radio stepped over and looked at her, but didn’t answer any of her questions. “Breaking and entering is against the law in Metropolis, isn’t it?”
“Sure,” Lois said coolly. “But seeing as you grabbed us as we were just walking by, I don’t see the pertinence of the question, unless you’re referring to yourself. Last time I checked, dairy packaging didn’t have their employees dress in army fatigues.”
The soldier frowned at her, and Lois smirked slightly back.
Clark took a deep breath. “Are you with Bureau 39?” he asked, his voice low. Several of the soldiers blinked and stared at him, and Lois with them, and he quickly stuttered and swallowed nervously. “I-I mean…If you’re looking for S-superman, w-we won’t help you. W-we can’t help you.”
Shut up, Clark. Let me handle this.The lead soldier—a lieutenant from the stripes on his arm—stepped forward.
“What is your name?”
Clark hesitated, his heart thumping almost painfully in his chest. “C-Clark Kent,” he answered, nervously. “Now, look, see—we don’t know anything.”
“Clark Kent,” the lieutenant repeated, his eyes narrowing as he took yet another step forward. “The one who was the last to see Superman, about two weeks ago?”
“He doesn’t know anything,” Lois interrupted. The man better not get himself into trouble with his stumbling words! The soldiers’ eyes went to her again.
“But you do, don’t you, Miss Lane?”
Lois felt Clark start beside her, his arm jerking against his restraints in surprise at the voice, as if someone had come up behind him and shouted into his ear. But the man who had spoken had not spoken loudly, nor sternly, and just now was just now stepping through the soldiers around like Moses through a navy blue sea. He had a weathered face and small eyes, and from the sharp haircut to the polished boots he looked like an army-doll cut-out, except that comparing the broad-shouldered wall of a man to any kind of a doll would have been laughable, if it were under different conditions.
Lois’s heart stilled and the readiness that she had ridden on thus far shattered into dust. All calm control and composure fled from her face and she turned to him, her face as pale as Clark’s, now.
She knew this man. She had seen him but once, and heard his voice just then as well, but she would never forget him. She would never forget seeing him, walking with Logram amidst the compound as Lois watched them, clutching an unconscious Superman as she heard them talk emotionlessly of horrors that she knew and remembered with a clarity that haunted her every waking moment.
“You!” Lois nearly snarled, drawing up like a furious tiger.
The general actually looked surprised. “What’s that?” he demanded gruffly, coming to a stop in front of her. “I wasn’t aware of ever meeting you, Miss Lane.”
Lois was shaking—with fury, fear, and preparation to fight or flee, though she had no intentions of doing either, no matter what her mind was screaming at her to do. “I won’t call him,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Miss Lane. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The man seemed honestly befuddled. It actually caused Lois to pause, though the moment of hesitation was brief.
“You can’t fool me,” Lois bristled. “You may not be with Bureau 39, but I know that you went to that compound. I heard you speaking with Logram.”
“At least we’re not playing cat and mouse here, Miss Lane,” the general said calmly, though he seemed slightly confused still. “I thought that you might try to deny being there at all.”
Lois’s eyes narrowed further, but she didn’t speak.
McPheron looked away from her and to Clark, frowning.
“Mr. Clark Kent, general,” the lieutenant explained to him.
The general just nodded and looked back to Lois. “Miss Lane, we are not with Bureau 39 and we do not mean you, or Superman, any harm. However, we do need to talk with you. Now if you could come with me.” Beside her, Clark tensed and pulled forward slightly, his eyes intense on her. He flinched as a hand clapped down on his shoulder to hold him back, and seemed to shrink slightly, though his gaze didn’t waver. In reality his captors were as able to hold him back as little diminutive ants, or little pre-school toddlers pulling back at him, if he decided to go after her.
Lois saw the motion and lifted her chin. “I’m not going anywhere without Clark.”
“This is confidential, Miss Lane.”
“I think I’ve lost my trust in covert government operations, general.”
“I think the issue of secrecy should be more concerning to you right now than your safety,” the man replied, his voice intense.
Lois actually paused at that, and her hand went to her chest as she hesitated. After a moment she spoke again.
“Kent is as honest as they come,” Lois said without even glancing at Clark. “Just have him give his scout’s honor not to tell anyone and your secret’s as safe as anything. Besides, I won’t cooperate at all if you separate us.”
Lois didn’t think she would risk letting them get separated, even for information.
The general glanced at Clark, who blinked nervousness. His glasses had slid slightly down his nose as they walked, and he shifted as if wishing his hands were free to push them back up in his typical nervous gesture.
It was a moment before the general spoke again. “Would you trust him with Superman’s life, Miss Lane?”
Lois gave a sharp intake of breath as she stared at the hard-looking man. Whatever did he mean?
She then glanced at Clark, who was staring at her and caught her eyes immediately, and she felt protectiveness rise in her.
The poor boy looked more the farm boy than ever, especially with his hair mussed the way it was and the smear of dirt over one chin from his struggle in the alleyway. She frowned at the memory of that. Nervousness from Kent was one thing—it was normal—but what had happened there was more than just nervousness—it had been downright, utter, complete fear, and had brought Kal-El’s face to mind faster than a speeding bullet. He had been in a sheer, blind panic.
Why?Later, Lois thought. She threw up another layer of wall around her fortress of iron spikes and steel fortifications. Business. This was business. Clark would just have to hold on.
“Yes,” she said firmly, pulling her eyes away from Clark’s. Superman would have trusted him, she was sure. She just prayed that she was right, and that Superman’s faith wouldn’t have been misplaced in Clark Kent yet again.
“Fine.” He gestured to the soldiers behind them to release them. “Follow me.”
Lois felt the cuffs slip from around her wrists and stepped forward after the general stiffly but with an unhurried step. Clark’s cuffs seemed to have jammed for some reason, and it took the soldier a moment longer to pull them open. Freed, Clark stepped quickly to her side and did so much as to touch her shoulder briefly as he came beside her, as if to share some comfort.
As if, Kent! Lois thought at that, pulling away with a flash of anger. Him, giving
her comfort? The idea was laughable.
She had to focus!
It was a short and quiet trip across the warehouse, and the general opened a door to an office and stepped inside. He gestured Lois and Clark inside in front of him, and Lois led the way guardedly, and even more so once she saw the small office that the doorway led to. She quickly surveyed the small room, then returned her stare to the general as he walked in and closed the door behind him without letting the guards follow. Lois immediately crossed her arms before her, glaring at the general as he moved around the immaculate desk that took up a fair amount of the small room’s space.
The closed air of the small office felt was tight and grey. The walls were some flaking pale yellow, and the air was thick with dust and stillness. Lois’s nervous energy seemed too much for the small space, and she forced herself to refuse the sudden bout of claustrophobia and attack of memories. Clark took a deep, careful breath, looking beyond the walls of the small room, and letting his hearing carry him outside and beyond.
The sky was quiet in a gentle way that the inside of a building could never fully allow to enter, no matter how large. He heard the clouds passing by, heard the general thrum of Metropolis. Some barn swallows were nesting in the protection of a vent on the roof, their wings fluttering as they flitted free in the open air. The tension in his being eased slightly.
He could get them out, if he needed to. There was no need for anyone to pull out the kryptonite without Superman there.
The general moved to sit down on the other side of the desk, lowering himself down with a sigh. Lois and Clark faced him, the silent moment drawing on.
“This room is secure,” the man behind the desk spoke calmly, his words and attention directly on Lois. “We can speak safely.”
“About what?” Lois said intensely. “Who are you?”
The general sat back. “General McPheron, Miss Lane, of the Primaries—a branch of the military, and some of the sharpest of the bunch.”
Lois’s eyes narrowed further. “McPheron,” she repeated. “So. All of your supposed help to find me was just that—looking for Superman.”
The general reached down to pick up a cigar and cut the end. He waited until he lit it and had taken a long draught before answering. “I’m not going to lie to you, Miss Lane. You’re correct, we would not have been involved in the search if not for your connection to Superman.”
Lois stepped forward, though Clark stayed strangely still behind her.
“I knew it,” Lois said, her voice mixed with fear, anger, and something else…triumph? The light in her eyes burned almost viciously. “I won’t help you,” she said coldly. “You’re going to be caught, General McPheron, or whoever you are—and even if I don’t live to see you locked up, justice will be served.”
McPheron went still in the middle of exhaling a cloud of smoke. He stared at her as if she had gone mad. “What?”
Lois bristled at that and leaned forward, putting her hands on the desk firmly. “I told you I won’t play the fool here, McPheron. I
saw you at the complex. I
heard you speaking with Logram. He said you wanted Superman for the same reason he did!” Behind her, Clark backed into a small metal trash bin, knocking it over and causing a racket as he hurried to straighten it with a muttered apology. The general glanced at him, but Lois stepped forward to the very edge of the desk, tense as an angry cat and demanding his full attention again.
The general leaned back. “You’re going to believe Logram?”
“You didn’t deny it,” Lois said, her voice low.
McPheron’s eyes narrowed. “I found no reason to argue with the madman,” he said bluntly. He stood suddenly, but Lois didn’t move from her tense position but to straighten to better look the man in the eye. “I didn’t mean to upset you. My men had tracked the remnants of Trask’s crew to the compound, and if we had known you were still there…” He opened a drawer next to him. Lois tensed further, but the general just pulled out a sheath of paper and dropped it on the desk before her. “These should take care of the damage to your car, Miss Lane. I apologize for that—our men got a little trigger-happy, I’m afraid.” His tone implied that whoever it had been had not stayed happy in any way for some time after that.
Lois lifted the folder cautiously, as if the paper were a limp snake prone to attack at any moment. Her eyes flickered to them, then went back to the general.
“What do you want?”
“I told you I am in charge of the Primaries. We are an unofficial-official group, if you will—a branch of the government organized by the president himself.”
“The Primaries?”
“Three groups—red, blue, and yellow, spread both nationally and internationally. Before a couple weeks ago we didn’t have much to do in the public’s eye. We are, quite simply, Superman’s government support.”
“What?” Lois scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“When Superman appeared, the reactions were both fear and admiration, but after initial concerns it was determined that the alien was here to help rather than hurt. It’s because of us, Miss Lane, that Superman hasn’t had to worry about a flood of lawsuits from any minor injuries or property damage that have occurred at time to time due to his rescues. We are a relatively new department, and were preparing to contact him directly before he disappeared.”
“Yeah, sure the government supports him,” Lois retorted. “They started Bureau 39 in the first place.”
“Trask went over the edge years ago,” McPheron said, an edge entering into his voice. “And the Primaries have completely dismantled Bureau 39 from the ground up as of yesterday. That threat, at least, is gone. But I doubt it is the last. And you, Miss Lane, are our only connection we have to the big guy right now.”
“And Bobby Bigmouth?” Had he been spying ever since Superman had appeared, or had they paid him off more recently?
The general’s lip twitched at that. “Ah. We’ve been keeping an eye on Bobby Bigmouth. While it hardly reached common knowledge, it came to our attention that your snitch has been rescued from a number of shootouts, knife-fights, and even a sinking boat by Superman himself. Not quite as noteworthy as your record, Miss Lane, but still significant. We figured if the man of steel seemed to be taking care of him, perhaps he was one we could trust to pass on a message to you, though he didn’t know that he was being fed the information, of course.”
Lois didn’t reply to that. Superman had saved
Bobby Bigmouth on a number of occasions? She hadn’t heard about that, and Bobby hadn’t mentioned it either. She had had the impression that Bobby had hardly seen the superhero, but for the general Metropolis comings and goings.
McPheron leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on hers. He spoke carefully.
“How is the boy scout?”
Lois took a deep breath, fighting against the automatic tightness in her chest at the question. “I haven’t seen him.”
McPheron’s expression was dubious, but he didn’t argue. He reached into the drawer again, drawing out Lois’s purse and a single stiletto high-heel and setting both items on the desk.
“I suggest you make sure a man is your enemy before you hit him with that thing. You gave Henries a severe concussion, and I had to give him medical leave for a month.”
“I still don’t trust you,” Lois hedged. She picked up her purse and the high heel, holding it ready—just in case it was needed. The general watched the action warily.
“That’s fine,” McPheron said, sitting back down. “You’d be a fool to trust so easily, after what we suspect happened. Just listen for a minute, if you would.”
He sighed, taking another long draw of his cigar. “We are on the trail of a major crime lord in Metropolis whom we suspect has a grudge against Superman—and for good reason, considering the damage being done to his ‘business.’ We thought it might be a branch of Intergang, but if anything, the man we’re looking for is a rival—and a rival that Intergang fears enough to stay out of his territory. We think it was this guy that was funding Trask and those nutcases, and probably was the brain behind the manner as well.”
Lois had heard most of this already, though to tell the truth Intergang had been one of her prime suspects. She frowned as she put a mark against them in her mind, but didn’t completely cross them from the list. For all she knew, McPheron could be feeding her false information even now, to throw her off the right trail. “Why are you telling us this?”
“Quite simply,” the general said. “First of all, you are Lois Lane—star reporter for the Daily Planet and investigative reporter extraordinaire, and you might as well work for the police force for how many criminals you’ve helped bring in. We want your help with this guy. Secondly, we want to warn you, because while we are on your side, there’s still somebody out there that knows everything that went on in that compound, and if they wanted you once they may try to take you again. Thirdly,”—he leaned forward—“deny it as you may, Miss Lane, you are the only one who has been in contact with Superman for any significant amount of time for the past month. We want him back in Metropolis, and the world. Crime has gone up 30 percent just this month in Metropolis and surrounding areas, and as much as we army-boys hate to admit dependence, he’s saved a lot of people all over and done the world a lot of good. We want him back on our side.”
Lois didn’t answer, but just looked at him, her eyes narrowed.
“We want you to warn him, too,” McPheron continued. “This Boss of ours no doubt has a bone to pick with him, and has the means to do so.”
Kryptonite. The word hung between them, unspoken, yet clear.
“Finally, there’s something we found of Superman’s that I think he might want,” McPheron said, standing.
TBC…
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