Table of Contents
From Part 9:“Oh, yes, the great Lois Lane, award-winning investigative reporter. So how are you doing today? Half of your twenty-four hours gone already, and you’re no further forward, are you?”
Half... Clark’s gaze shot to his watch. It was precisely 3:15pm. This guy was even sicker than he’d thought.
And he was still talking. “This is the investigation of your life, Ms Reporter Woman. The only problem is, if you don’t get the story this time it doesn’t just mean you lose out on a headline. Screw up on this story and... you die.”
Lois swallowed and said nothing. The sound of cruel laughter echoed down the phone, and then there was a click. The dial tone echoed mockingly in his ears.
Slowly, gently, Clark eased the receiver from Lois’s hand and replaced it on the cradle, then pulled Lois, now shaking uncontrollably, into his arms.
**********
Now read on...She should have expected it. She
had expected it! She’d even told Clark, back at her apartment, that she’d bet the bastard would be watching her.
So how could one phone call shake her up so much?
She was a quivering wreck. If it wasn’t for Clark, she’d be a useless lump of cowering jelly on the floor. As it was, she was a useless lump of cowering jelly in his arms.
He was watching her. The sick jerk had been outside her apartment when she’d been getting into the ambulance. Who knew where else he’d been? At the hospital? In the newsroom, even?
What if he was one of the men with Henderson’s team?
No. She had to pull herself together. Henderson knew his people. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to have someone on a case like this that he didn’t trust. Everything about the way he operated as a cop told her that.
Pull herself together. Concentrate on the important stuff. Fall apart
later - either when they’d found the antidote or... or when it was too late.
She drew back and Clark loosened his hold on her. “Are you okay?”
She took a deep, shuddering breath before answering. “As okay as I’m going to be.” Smiling wryly at him, she added, “Thanks for being here.”
He shrugged and squeezed her hand once more.
Henderson was still there, standing close to her and watching her with what even seemed like concern. Wonders would never cease. What was he...? Oh, yeah. Tracing the call. “Did I keep him on the line long enough?”
“I’m just going to find out. As soon as we realised it was him the guys got onto it.”
“Thanks.”
“You recognise him at all?”
She shook her head. “Not that I know. He’d disguised his voice...”
“Keep thinking about it, okay? Something might come to you.”
“Sure.” This, of course, was exactly the reason Henderson had insisted on tapping her line. And she’d been against it. Had vigorously opposed it. Well, he’d been right and she’d been wrong. Screw the first amendment - if tapping her phone could catch this bastard then she was all for it. If they were able to trace the call...
Then she’d have a chance to live.
“I’m sorry I messed up near the end. I forgot I was supposed to be keeping him talking.”
His hand landed on her shoulder, pressing for a moment or two before moving away. “You did good, Lois.” Then he strode from the room.
Henderson was getting soft in his old age. Anyone would think that he actually liked her. Shaking her head at this unimaginable notion, Lois turned her attention back to Clark.
“So, did you recognise his voice? Anything about him?”
She had to pause and think. For a moment, it seemed, trying to search through her memory, as if she was wading through sludge. Nothing shifted. Thoughts were always just out of reach, evading capture as she tried to grasp them.
Was there
anything...?
Eventually, resigned, she shook her head. “No. It’s hard to think... I mean, his voice was disguised... but, no. Nothing sounded familiar. Not even anything he said, or his speech patterns...” Frustrating. So incredibly frustrating! The first real lead they’d had, and she couldn’t fix on a single thing that would help.
She
was useless.
“Take your time.” Clark’s voice was gentle, encouraging. “Do you think you might know him? Have talked to him?”
Again, she frowned, racking her brain, but had to shake her head. “I can’t say for certain that I’ve never spoken to him before, but I don’t remember him and I don’t know if I should.”
Clark’s hand tightened around hers once more. “It’s okay. We’ll find him.”
“How?” Panic seized her, and she stared at Clark, wide-eyed. “I’ve just spent more than five minutes on the phone with him and I haven’t a clue who he is! We’ve got twelve hours left, if his timetable is genuine. Less than that before any damage is irreversible. We’re never going to find him!”
“We’ll find him,” Clark repeated, his tone firm and calm. Yet, as she searched his eyes, she saw her own panic mirrored there. A lead weight sank even lower in her stomach. He was nowhere near as confident as he pretended.
Clark thought she was going to die, too.
“I’m not giving up,” she told him, speaking quietly. “But I’m not going to fool myself, either. He was right. This is my last big story, and I’m not going to be around to see it in print.” The lump in her throat she thought she’d got rid of was back. “Maybe I should start writing it - at least then I’ll get a byline on it.”
“Lois, don’t!” The pain in Clark’s voice was a wake-up call. She wasn’t the only one suffering here. And, while he was trying to be strong for her, he needed someone to be strong for him, too.
And that was her job. Had always been her job. She was his best friend, after all.
“Okay.” She breathed deeply; once, twice. Her chest was tight. But not so tight that she couldn’t breathe, and that was all that mattered. Wasn’t it? Calmer, she met his gaze. “You’re right. We’ve got work to do. The cops can do their thing trying to trace the call. You and me: we’re doing what we should have been doing earlier. We’re getting out on the streets.”
“Oh? What for?”
“He’s watching us. You heard him say that, right?” Of course he had; he’d heard the entire conversation. Super-hearing.
How useful would that have been on the job, if she’d known...? Though, of course, he’d probably been using it all along and just made sure she’d never realised.
He simply nodded, tapping his ear lightly as if thinking she needed the reminder.
“Okay, so he’s probably out there somehow right now. So let’s make it easy for him to watch us. I should touch base with some of our sources anyway, and while I do that you can keep an eye out for our man. So let’s go, all right?”
Clark was going to argue, of course. He knew that she was getting progressively weaker. He probably knew that if she stood up right now she’d fall over. Hell, he’d seen her barely able to hold the phone at first - her hand had been shaking so badly she must’ve looked as if she had delirium tremens.
But, after a few seconds, he let out a breath and said, “Okay. On one condition.”
”What’s that?”
“You have to eat something first.”
She grimaced, but he was right. She really didn’t feel much like food, but she hadn’t eaten anything all day. Not even one of the usual morning doughnuts. All she’d had were a couple of cups of coffee. “All right. But nothing much, okay? I couldn’t face it.”
“Leave it to me. I’ll be back in a minute with something.”
**********
She’d almost fallen apart again but, a tribute to the amazing courage she had, she’d got her fight back. For that, he’d agree to anything she wanted - and he had to admit that she had a point. It was entirely possible that the guy was watching them, something he should have thought of himself.
He let himself out of the conference room. A high-energy chocolate bar and some orange juice should do it for now. Maybe some fruit for extra vitamins.
“Clark, can I have a quick word?”
Henderson had detached himself from the group of officers crowded around some machinery.
“Sure, Bill, but I’m just on my way out to get Lois some -”
“We have the tape of the call. I’ve listened to it - this is one sick bastard.” The inspector’s expression was coldly furious. “Foley’s already made a copy to courier over to the tech boys for analysis, but it occurred to me... It’ll take at least a couple of hours for the tech people to get any results. You want to listen to it?”
But he’d already heard it... Suddenly, the penny dropped. Henderson wanted him to
super-listen - to see if he could detect any background noises, anything that might give them clues as to where the guy was located. Quickly, he nodded. “Yeah. I should have thought of that. Where...?”
“I can get the equipment set up in a room for you - it’ll take about five minutes. Just say where.”
“Conference room’s fine.”
Henderson’s eyebrow went up. “Yeah? What about Lois?”
Clark smiled. “She knows. It’s okay.”
A nod of understanding. “Don’t know why I ever thought otherwise. Okay, five minutes.”
“Just a second, Bill.” Clark detained him with a hand on his arm. “Did you get a trace on the call or not?”
Henderson blew out a breath. “No. They were almost there - another few seconds would’ve done it.”
“Damn.” The word came out softly. “Don’t tell Lois - she’s feeling bad enough as it is.”
“I won’t. Anyway, my guess is this guy knew we’d be trying to trace it and he wouldn’t have kept talking long enough anyway.”
“I guess. Okay. Thanks.” And he headed for the elevator.
Damn, damn. If only they could’ve traced that call...
Though even that might not have helped. After all, would the guy be so stupid as to call from his home address? Or wherever he worked? So far, he’d proven himself to be pretty smart. Chances were he’d been using a payphone. All the same, if they’d been able to get a fix on
where then they might have been able to get a description from someone who’d seen him.
One super-fast flight to Smallville later, he was strolling back into the newsroom, a couple of his mom’s home-made fruit and chocolate granola cakes and some fresh orange juice in his hand.
Somehow, he’d managed to avoid telling his mom what was going on. She’d smiled at him and asked what he was doing there in the middle of the day, and he’d known that she hadn’t bought his story about having a sudden hankering for more of the snacks she’d made at the weekend. She’d given him one of her patient looks, letting him know that he was getting away with it for now but that she’d expect a full explanation when he was ready to talk.
She’d hear all about it soon enough - both of his parents would, especially if his fears were realised. He’d need every ounce of their support.
Think positive. Being defeatist was as good as giving up. They
would find a cure. Either one of Dr Sutton’s tests would come up positive, or they’d find the assassin and make him tell them what he’d injected Lois with. He had to keep telling himself that. For Lois’s sake, he had to believe it.
He pushed open the conference-room door, and heard the assassin telling Lois that he’d watched her being put into the ambulance. Lois and Henderson were sitting at the table listening to the tape. The detective was making notes, while Lois, her expression starkly pale, was leaning back in her seat, her eyes closed.
Something attracted his gaze. Her hand. It was resting on top of the desk, shaking. She couldn’t be that frightened by the tape, surely? No. Stupid. It was another symptom of the poison. God. She was getting worse in front of his eyes.
Was shaking a symptom of ricin? Why hadn’t he read up on this stuff?
He waited until the tape had finished, then laid the food and drink in front of Lois. She gave him a half-hearted smile of thanks.
“Anything?” Henderson, pen still in hand, looked up.
Lois shook her head. “I... I’m still drawing a c... complete blank. I really don’t think h... he’s anyone I ever met.”
Her whole body was shaking. Ice-cold chills ran through him. He stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. She leaned back against him, and after a few moments the tremors stopped.
“Okay,” Henderson was saying. “Not that that makes it any easier, but we’ll do what we can. I’m going to get some more officers over to your street - see if any of the neighbours saw someone watching.” He turned to Clark. “You ready to take a listen?”
“Sure.” He sat and waited while Henderson passed him headphones. Sensible; they’d cut out any extraneous noise. Lois didn’t seem surprised; Henderson must have told her what they were going to do. He’d have to find out later whether Henderson had told her that he knew about Superman. Somehow, given that the detective had avoided actually saying the words, he guessed probably not.
The tape played. He listened, trying to set aside his anger and concentrate on the sounds.
Background noises. Odd clicks - just part of the electronic transmission of sound, or something else? Voices. Some sort of swishing sound. Echoing effects... yes, this was indoors. Not a house, though. Wherever it was indoors, the place was large. Not like a stadium - somewhere with plenty of space, but plenty of walls to absorb sound. There was distant music - the latest chart hit, maybe? It sounded like it. More voices. Running feet. And more music, this time an easy-listening classic. But... He frowned.
“Can I rewind this thing?”
“Sure.” Henderson clicked some switches, and then the tape was playing the last few seconds over again. Strange. As he’d thought, there were actually two different pop songs playing, one closer, one appearing more distant. Maybe even a third. So where...?
“A shopping mall!” He pulled the headphones off. “He’s in a shopping mall. All the sounds fit - indoors, dividing walls and open space, people walking around, carrying bags and bumping into each other, talking, laughing, music playing in the shops. That’s what I couldn’t figure out - why I was hearing at least two different song tracks.”
“A mall.” Henderson’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Figures. Lots of people, but all too busy doing their own thing to notice one guy making a phone call. Lots of noise to cover his side of the conversation. Plus, have you any idea how many shopping malls there are in Metropolis?”
“Assuming he’s even in Metropolis,” Clark said. Despondency was setting in again. They were never going to find him.
“He has to be in Metropolis,” Lois, chewing listlessly on a granola cake, said. “He was in the city this morning. Outside my apartment. Okay, he could’ve got on the freeway or taken a plane, but my guess is he’s sick enough to want to see what he’s done to me. He’s in Metropolis.”
She was probably right - but finding him was going to be like searching for a needle in a haystack.
“Is there anything else? Anything that might narrow it down a bit?” Henderson wasn’t looking optimistic. “Course, the guys in the lab might be able to hone in on something.”
Clark picked up the headphones again. There had to be something. The city wasn’t that homogenous - downtown was different from the suburbs, and of course there were the river, the freeways, the arterial road system, underpasses, the airport - all of those would cause distinct background noises. If he could identify any of those, surely it would be possible to pinpoint the mall?
If he could do that, then there could be witnesses who might have seen the guy making the phone call - or, even better, security cameras.
He ran the tape again from the beginning, screening out all the sounds he’d already identified and didn’t want to listen to again. And, about halfway through, there it was. He’d missed it the first time because it was so faint. Yet it was unmistakeable.
The sound of a ship’s horn.
“It’s near the harbour.” Ripping off the headphones, he met first Lois’s gaze, then Henderson’s. “Not right next to it, but within half a mile or so. I heard a ship’s horn go - you know the sound they make when they’re in harbour limits and getting ready to dock? It’s a medium-sized cargo ship, I think.”
“Okay.” Henderson was on his feet. “A mall somewhere within half a mile of the docks. Thanks, Clark - that’s a big help.” And he hurried from the room.
“Yeah, thanks,” Lois said, sounding faint. He shot a worried glance at her. “It blows my mind how you can do that.” The smile she gave him was decidedly weak, and as she got to her feet she had to grip the table for support. He began to move, to go to her, but she shook her head. “I’m okay. I just have to go...” Waving her hand vaguely, presumably in the direction of the bathroom, she walked unsteadily towards the door.
Reluctantly, he stayed where he was. He couldn’t coddle her. Much as he wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool and make sure she couldn’t do anything to hurt or over-exert herself, this was Lois. She wouldn’t appreciate it.
Sure, anyone else would be tucked up in a hospital bed, letting the medical staff try everything they could to save her. Not Lois. And, even though part of him might wish that she’d stayed in the hospital, the rest of him admired her for the way she was handling this. Brave. Determined. Heroic.
If she was going to go down, she’d go down fighting.
**********
Lois slumped against the partition in the tiny cubicle, breathing shallowly and trying to avoid swallowing. After a moment, she leaned down and pushed the handle to flush the toilet.
She really shouldn’t have had anything to eat. She should have stuck with her instincts. But Clark had been so insistent, and he was being so caring... How was he to know that food would make her throw up?
There was no need to tell him about this. He’d only worry, and he’d obsess about having forced her to eat. He’d think it was his fault.
She left the cubicle and stumbled over to the sinks to run some water. By the time she’d rinsed out her mouth, she felt a little bit better. Still shaky, and her stomach still hurt, but at least she wasn’t nauseous any more. Just as well - she wouldn’t be any use at all out pounding the streets if she was having to stop to throw up every few yards.
God, when she got her hands on the bastard who’d done this to her...
She ached all over. Her hands were shaking. She could barely walk straight. Her vision was blurry. Her energy levels were almost at zero. And now the tips of her toes were tingling. Plus now for some reason she seemed to have no sensation at the top of her left thumb.
Was this what ricin poisoning felt like? Though there was no guarantee that it was ricin.
Standing around speculating would do no good. Time to paste a bright smile on her face and go off to find her partner.
Clark was in the bullpen, talking to Perry. Taking slow, careful steps, Lois went over to join them. Perry looked up, his expression concerned, as she approached. “Lois, honey. How are you feeling?”
She gave him a wry smile. “I’ve been better. But I’m coping, so don’t worry, okay?”
The direct look he gave her told her that he didn’t believe her for a second. “Clark here’s been telling me that the medics are still none the wiser about what it was. Jeez, with all the advances in medical science these days, you’d think working out stuff like that would be better than hit and miss.”
“Yeah.” She shrugged, and immediately wished she hadn’t as dizziness overwhelmed her again. She would have stumbled if Clark hadn’t slid his hand across her back. Nope, he wasn’t fooled for an instant by her bright smile and careful footing.
“I was just about to tell Clark that the Planet’s offering a twenty-five thousand dollar reward for information leading to identification of this poison - and another ten thousand for the capture of the guy who attacked you.”
“Really? How’d you swing that, Chief?” That was impressive. The Planet didn’t normally offer rewards. In fact, they almost never paid sources either, unlike the Star.
“Lois, honey, you
are our top reporter. Three Kerths in the last three years. Of course the big boys upstairs think you’re valuable.” His lip curled sardonically. “At least, that’s the type of argument they listen to. Anyway, feel free to spread that around. I’m telling everyone to get back onto their sources and get that message out. If there’s anyone out there who knows anything, we’ll flush them out.”
She reached out and squeezed his arm - or tried to; for some reason, she couldn’t get her fingers to obey her brain’s command very effectively. “Thanks, Perry.” Before she embarrassed herself again, she turned to Clark. “Ready to go, partner?”
“Sure.” He flashed her a smile and extended his arm. “Come on, then. You want to take the Jeep?” He began to steer her across to the elevator.
“Yeah. You better drive, though.”
“I guess.” He patted his pocket. “Okay, I still have the keys from this morning.” As the doors closed on them, he said softly, “So how are you, really?”
She leaned back against the wall. “I really have been better.”
“Yeah.” His worried gaze felt as if he could see more than she was letting on. “Lois, I...”
The doors opened and, eager to avoid another emotional conversation, she hurried forward. And then her legs went one way and her body another.
She cried out as Clark caught her, scooping her up against him before she could hit the hard concrete.
“Lois! Are you okay?”
She couldn’t answer. For several moments, she just rested against him. Her heart was thumping, beating so loudly and so quickly she couldn’t hear anything else.
He held her, not speaking, just rubbing one hand gently up and down her back. After what seemed like ages, she raised her head to look at him, to thank him. His face was so close to hers she could feel his breath against her lips.
She opened her mouth, but her vocal chords refused to work. So instead she reached up and touched her lips to his.
He started slightly, but then his lips moved under hers, kissing her back, a gently sweet kiss that ended almost as soon as it had begun. Wistful regret filled her as he drew back to gaze down at her.
“
Are you okay, Lois?” His voice shook.
Slowly, she nodded. “I’ll survive. For now. Thanks for catching me.”
“Are you sure?” He didn’t sound remotely convinced. “Cause I can do this on my own, you know. You could wait upstairs...”
“No!” She grabbed at his arm. The thought of having to go through this without Clark, even for half an hour or so, was terrifying. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me alone.”
If this next twelve hours was all she had, she needed Clark to be with her.
“Yeah, I did.” His voice was softer. “Okay. Come on, let’s get you to the car.”
All the time she’d wasted... all those months when she’d treated him as if he was beneath her notice. Or a convenient lapdog. Except he’d never been a lapdog; not really. He’d always let her know when he wasn’t happy with her. It was just that most of the time he’d gone along with what she wanted.
He’d crept under her guard and, before she’d known it, he’d become a friend. A close friend. The best friend she’d ever had.
And now, when it was too late, the truth was finally clear. He - as Clark, not as Superman - was the most important person in her life. He meant more to her than anyone else ever had. Ever.
She let him lead her to the Jeep and help her into the passenger seat. As he slid into the driver’s seat, she said, “I want you to have my rolodex.”
“Huh?” In the act of sliding the key into the ignition, he fumbled and she saw the keyring fall to the floor. He reached down to pick it up, then turned to her. “Lois, what are you - ?”
“Clark, let’s be realistic here.” He shook his head, as if to deny her words, as he backed the car out of its space. “I’m probably not going to make it. You know that as well as I do. And we should talk about that.”
“Not yet.” She could hear the tautness in his voice. “Lois, we’re going to find this guy. I swear it. You’re not going to die.”
Was she being defeatist by wanting to talk about the very real possibility that she might die? She was being
realistic! They had to face facts. More than half their time had gone already, and they had
nothing.
“But I might.”
“Yeah.” He pulled out onto the street. “And that’s a... slim possibility that we’ll face when we have to. Later. If we have to.”
She slid her gaze sideways to look at him. His teeth were clenched and a tiny muscle in his jaw was twitching. Yes, he was upset. This was hurting him too much.
Another reminder of how much he cared about her. And maybe even a hint of what she could have had. What there might have been between them, if she hadn’t been so dumb where he was concerned.
But he had to face it too, whether he liked it or not. If he couldn’t begin to come to terms with the fact that she would probably die, it’d be harder for him when it happened. Especially since he was Superman. He was probably already blaming himself for not finding a way to save her.
Maybe she shouldn’t push it right now. He was hurting enough as it was.
“Okay,” she conceded. “But I still want you to have my rolodex.”
He gave a half-smile. “Thanks. Y’know, Lois... don’t you think you should call your parents?”
No! No, that was just too much to face on top of everything. Her mother fussing neurotically. Her father arguing with the doctors, the lab techs, her mother and everyone else in sight. Both of them demanding that she do things she didn’t want to.
Oh, she’d have to tell them soon, if they couldn’t find the guy who did it or Sutton didn’t manage to identify the poison. But the longer that moment could be delayed...
They’d simply take over. Clark would be pushed aside and her mother would drown everyone else out.
“If we haven’t got anywhere by...” She hesitated. What was a realistic deadline? Bearing in mind that Sutton had made it clear that she could be incapable of functioning long before the twenty-four-hour deadline. Maybe she’d be unconscious, or in a state of semi-paralysis, or whatever, by midnight. Maybe even earlier. “Okay, by eight tonight, I’ll tell them.”
That gave them five hours to do
something.
For a moment, Clark looked as if he was going to argue, but then he nodded. “They’re your parents. It’s your decision.”
“Just promise me something.”
“Anything.” He brought the car to a halt at traffic lights, then turned to look at her.
“You’ll stay with me till the end, won’t you? Don’t let my parents or the doctors make you leave. Promise?”
He muttered something she couldn’t catch. Then he reached across to squeeze her hand. “I promise, Lois. Nothing could drag me away from you. If... If it comes to that, I’ll be right there beside you. I swear.” His voice sounded almost hoarse.
As she clutched his hand, the lump was back in her throat again.
*********
...tbc
Hope you appreciate the nice long part this time! 
