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Chapter 23: Minor Difficulties

Mike growled in frustration, earning him a strange look from the woman sitting at the other table at the downtown coffee shop. Because the kidnapped girl was a minor it was impossible to look at any of the records involved. School enrollments, found children, foster placements, foster caregivers, hospital admissions: none were accessible to the public. Any of those would have helped enormously. He could check the missing children database but without any personal details about the girl he’d have no idea if he’d found her or not.

His hunch was that Supergirl was living somewhere in Milford. There were around 300 students in the sixth grade at the middle school, half of whom were girls. Only some of those would match Supergirl’s physical characteristics, but that still might be quite a few girls.

The response to his interview request, passed to the family and back via the police, had been that the girl didn’t want to talk to the press. If she was Supergirl that was hardly a surprise.

He’d already talked this over with the folks back at the office. With the new, stricter laws in place and the whole scandal over hacking by journalists still going full blast in the UK, trying to get into the databases was out of the question. Since there wasn’t anything illegal or unethical going on no whistleblower was going to risk their job leaking the information.

A PI experienced in finding missing children would be able to locate her from a photo, but no PI would take the case because neither CNN nor Mike were Supergirl’s parent or guardian. They’d run the risk of losing their license. And the first thing they’d do is check in with the local police, anyway.

Everyone agreed this was a hot lead and Yates had been paid for an exclusive on the tape. They weren’t airing it yet because they didn’t want to tip off the competition. That was getting harder to justify because it had been over a week since they’d received it, three days since he’d come to Milford, and Mike still hadn’t been able to figure out a way to track down the girl without getting into trouble with the law.

Mike heard children’s voices and looked up from his donut. Three tween girls were walking up the street in his direction. Mike smiled; one was a redhead, one a brunette, and one a blonde. They looked like a hair color commercial. They were the right age, but none of them looked like Supergirl.

“Finally!” said the brunette. She looked partly Asian. “How far was that?”

“About a mile,” said the blonde. She was wearing glasses.

The brunette was still complaining. “What ice cream is worth walking a mile for? We could have had ice cream at my house. Assuming Kevin hasn’t eaten it all.” Mike had to hide his smile behind his coffee cup.

“Hey!” protested the redhead. “It’s really good. They make it right here in the bakery. I still can’t believe you’ve never been here before.”

“As long as they have chocolate,” said the brunette.

“Ditto,” said the blonde. She fiddled with her glasses, her eyes peeking out for a moment as she looked through the window. “Oh, I guess they do.”

“Of course!” said the redhead.

Mike smiled pleasantly at the three of them as they entered the bakery, and they smiled back. He went back to thinking about his problem and the smile left his face. He sighed. Too bad Supergirl hadn’t come for ice cream.

Hmm. With a recommendation like that maybe he should have tried the ice cream instead of the donut. He reflected that at this rate he’d have a chance to try everything on the menu.



Mike was brushing his teeth that night when it occurred to him that Supergirl really might have a “secret identity” like her fictional counterpart. Not that he’d expected her to wear her costume all the time, but she might make an effort to alter her appearance when being a superhero, a civilian, or both, beyond a change of clothes. Celebrities did the same thing when out in public.

She could wear her hair differently; she could wear glasses like Clark Kent… wait a minute.

A number of girls the right age had passed him that afternoon during his coffee break.

He strained to remember their faces, but drew a blank. He hadn’t looked closely at any of them because you didn’t stare at kids. He thought he’d seen at least a couple of blondes, including one wearing glasses.

It was even possible she wore a wig when in civilian guise; most versions of the fictional Supergirl did. Mike thought that was unlikely — a wig was too easy to dislodge accidentally — but he couldn’t rule it out. That would make for far more possibilities.

He thought he’d been keeping his eyes open, but he hadn’t considered a disguise. Was it possible she’d walked right by him? He banged his head on the mirror. More than once.

This was taking too much time. If he didn’t find something soon they’d just have to run the tape from the marina on its own. The network was desperate for news on Supergirl. They were running anything they could, even features on her fictional incarnations and their secret identities.



“Mr. President, Mr. Lamb would like a minute.”

“Send him in, Carol.”

The President started to smile at his Chief of Staff, but it faded at the expression on the man’s face. “Uh oh; this can’t be good. What is it, Pete?”

“Mr. President, some of the other countries involved in the ISS were tracking the debris as well. And by ‘some of the other countries,’ I mean the Russians, of course. They noticed that it fell out of orbit in a completely unnatural way. Not only that, they picked up the tracking signal from Supergirl’s communications link. They’re asking questions.”

The President sighed. “Your recommendation?”

“We’ll have to release the statement we prepared, Sir. Better to tell what really happened than have speculation run rampant. The Chinese have gotten wind of it, and they were already nervous about her.”

The President nodded. “That’s what I think too; let’s go ahead.” He pressed his lips together. “I just hope this doesn’t turn into a circus.”



Mike’s smartphone chimed, and he pulled it from his pocket. He’d gotten a notification from the CNN app: the headline read “Supergirl Saves ISS from Collision with Space Junk.”

He tapped through to the actual story. There was a short statement from the White House, to the effect that they’d contacted Supergirl and requested her assistance in deflecting a piece of space debris that had posed a serious threat to the International Space Station. She’d agreed and had flown into orbit, then redirected the object to burn up in the atmosphere. The President had said, “The United States is grateful to Supergirl for her help in protecting this important scientific resource for all of humanity.”

The framing was interesting. Mike could see that the government was trying to spin it so that other countries didn’t think Supergirl was under U.S. control. If it looked like she was doing whatever the U.S. wanted, that could be destabilizing. For the sake of world peace, he hoped that the spin was true or — far more crucial — that the U.S. could convince other countries it was true.

But it still couldn’t hide two plain facts: the government had a way to contact Supergirl, and she was open to taking requests. That led to two questions: how did they contact her? And what kind of requests did she take?



Emily rose from the sofa as the door opened. Finally! It’s nearly midnight.

Kara closed the door behind her. Emily took one look at her and winced. Kara was looking rather bedraggled, her hair stringy and her uniform covered in dried salt. She looked to be near tears.

“Oh sweetheart…” began Emily, holding her arms open. “What happened?”

Kara ran into her embrace and buried her face in Emily’s shoulder. “He yelled at me!”

Emily felt herself bristle. “Who yelled at you? When?”

“When I put the ferry down by the dock.”

“Wait, when you put it down? What did you do?”

Kara had flown to rescue a ferry in the Caspian Sea. It had been sinking with over six hundred aboard, news they’d received via their government contacts at about ten that evening. She’d broken her own previous speed record, reaching the vessel three minutes after leaving Milford. Most of that had been getting up to an altitude where she could really move and descending on the other end. She’d left a spectacular glowing trail high in the skies above the East Coast and Eastern Europe.

“It had a big hole in the side and I didn’t know how to fix it. I guess it hit something. So I just picked it up and flew with it.”

“You lifted it out of the water?” Emily boggled at the idea; she couldn’t imagine the weight of a ship that size. “Umm, wouldn’t that frighten the passengers?”

“I wasn’t that high! I was just above the water, and I flew it to the nearest port I could see. It turned out that’s where it left from. Then I put it down in the shallow water so it wouldn’t sink.”

“Is that why they yelled at you?”

Kara shook her head. “No, after I put the boat down I flew up on the dock to see if they wanted me to move it. I was talking to the men on the dock — they spoke English and were really nice — when this man in a robe started yelling at me and pointing and shaking his fist. I couldn’t understand him but he was really, really mad.” She started crying softly.

“Wait, where was this?”

“The men at the port said it was in Iran.”

Oh boy. “Then what happened?”

“Some of the men on the dock started arguing back at the man. They all got angry. One of them told me the man was one of their clerics, and he didn’t like the way my hair was or the way I was dressed, or that I was American, or that I was in their country without permission. The man who was translating said they were grateful because I saved a lot of people, and they knew I was trying to help, and that’s why they were arguing back. Then more people showed up and it got even more angry and everyone was yelling at each other, and the man said he wished I could move the boat a little from where I put it, and he was really sorry, but it would be better if I left.” She sobbed. “So I did.”

“Oh, honey.” Emily squeezed her tighter.

“I didn’t want to make anybody mad! I just wanted to help!”

“And you did! I’m sure every person on that boat is grateful to you. Who knows how many would have died if you hadn’t helped?”

Kara nodded, still sniffling.

Emily was rubbing her back in soothing circles. “How about you clean yourself and your suit up, and I’ll make you some hot cocoa. Would that help?”

“Yeah,” came the quiet reply. “Emily?”

“What, sweetheart?”

“I wish my dad was here.”

“I know honey. I do too.”

Emily held her for a few more minutes, until Kara disengaged and looked up with a fragile smile. Emily stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. “Shower and then cocoa?”

“Uh-huh.”



“Well?” asked the President.

Pete Lamb shrugged. “Cooler heads prevailed, this time. Of course officially we don’t talk to each other, but unofficially, they let us know they’re glad she saved the ferry, even if some factions don’t like that she’s American and female. They also realized she’s only eleven and scaring her off was counterproductive.

“So they asked us to tell her she’ll be welcome if she comes to help again. She’ll probably even get an official thank you. Through a third party like the UN or Russia, of course.” He shrugged again. “We won’t, but they know we told her about the accident.”

The President didn’t respond, and the other man continued quietly, “Do you regret telling her about it? She probably wouldn’t have found out in time if we hadn’t passed the word.”

The President smiled without warmth. “I’d prefer not to answer that question.” He sighed. “Let’s get some sleep. There’ll probably be more fallout in the morning — no good deed goes unpunished.”



Emily took one look at the news story on her computer and winced.

The Chairman of the House Committee on Foreign Affairs asked the White House to explain why, in his words, “Supergirl is helping America’s enemies.”

White House Press Secretary Theresa Foley issued a statement from the President: “The Administration passed information about the sinking ferry to Supergirl purely out of concern for the passengers. Regardless of the state of the relationship between the United States and Iran, six hundred innocent civilian lives were at risk. Supergirl demonstrated, as always, her compassion and desire to help, and went to assist, saving all aboard. The Administration hopes that all Americans will feel proud of this humanitarian action.”

Chairman Myers promised to call hearings on Supergirl’s latest rescue, and more generally on what should be done to make sure that her actions “are aligned with America’s interests.” He emphasized that he was not criticizing Supergirl herself, given her age and obvious good intentions, but insisted that decisions on how to apply the power she wields “should not be made by a child.”

I’d trust her judgment over yours any day, you clown, thought Emily. She’d never met anyone with a bigger heart than her foster daughter. Given who her father was, she wasn’t surprised.

Chairman Myers also demanded that the Administration make Supergirl accessible to Congress, saying, “the American people’s representatives have a right to learn more about her.”

Emily shut down the computer and went to get ready to walk the girls to school. As she did every day, she hoped fervently that Kara’s parents would find her soon.