Chapter 21: Things I’m Learning About You
Once they’d decided, Spalding poked his head out the door and called, and a tall, wiry young man wearing a black suit joined them. He had an earpiece in his ear.
“Hi,” he introduced himself. “My name’s Jarrod Gardiner. I’m your Secret Service protection, and this time around, your driver.”
“Umm, hi,” croaked Emily.
“Protection?” asked Kara.
“Not as much for you, Miss Kent,” said Jarrod with a smile. “For your foster mother and sister.”
“Oh.”
“Ladies, if you’ll follow me?”
He led them to a nondescript gray government sedan parked in the back and held the doors open for them. Emily sat in the front passenger seat and the two girls in the rear. “Sorry it’s not a limo, but we want to keep things quiet. We don’t want folks wondering what government limos are doing in Milford. Cars like this one come through all the time. Anyway, it’s a short ride and there’ll be refreshments when we get there.”
“Oh, umm, it’s… it’s fine,” stammered Emily.
He went around to the driver’s side and slid in, pulling the door closed and buckling up. He touched his earpiece and said, “Gardiner. Bluebird and friends en route. Out,” then pulled out of the parking lot onto Front Street.
“What’s ‘Bluebird’?” asked Kara.
“That’s you, Miss Kent,” replied Jarrod with a grin in the rear view mirror. He headed for the Route 1 bypass.
“Oh,” said Kara, blushing. Emily and Caitlin were too nervous to smile.
Kara watched the rural scenery go by and wondered what was going to happen. Dover Air Force Base was about twenty miles away up Route 1, and they were there in half an hour.
They pulled onto the base access road. Jarrod flashed an ID at the gate; they were waved through by a stony-faced guard. Their bodyguard navigated the car through the roads of the base and pulled up next to a moderate-sized building. “Here we are, Ladies,” he said.
Kara, somewhat worried, looked into the building. There wasn’t much to see: military personnel going about their business, and a large conference room where a handful of civilians and military were gathered.
“This way,” said Jarrod. At no point did anyone hold a gun on them or force them to do anything.
They went inside and were met by an officer; Kara didn’t know how to read his rank insignia. He guided all of them to the conference room she’d seen earlier and ushered them inside, Jarrod included. Kara clung to Emily, nervous at the way everyone was looking at her, and Caitlin stayed close.
A thin, middle-aged man with gray hair at his temples rose from his place at the table and came to meet them. “Dr. Jordan? I’m Fred Douglas, Homeland Security. I’ll be your family’s liaison going forward.” He held out a hand, and Emily shook it, a bit dazed.
He nodded to the girls. “Miss Jordan, Miss Kent. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” He turned. “This is the rest of the team. If you’d all introduce yourselves?”
A woman in uniform stood. “Felicia Mendoza, Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. I’ll be your interface with the military, should you need it.”
An Asian-American man stood. “Harry Matsuoka, State Department. We can help you with any international issues.”
Mr. Douglas continued, “We don’t have a representative from every Cabinet department because we wanted to keep the team small. However, they’re all available if you need them for anything.”
Emily, Caitlin, and Kara exchanged looks.
“Uh, thanks,” said Emily. “Do you mind my asking… umm…”
“Why you’re here?”
“Um, yes?”
He nodded. “I guess you could call this a ‘getting to know you’ meeting. Naturally, we want to understand this young lady here better,” he indicated Kara, “and we want you all to get to know us. We want to help her continue to help out, if we can, while making sure she doesn’t get in over her head.
“Speaking of ‘getting to know you,’ the President wanted to meet you all personally. He’s busy at the moment, but he’ll be heading this way by chopper shortly. He should be here in about an hour.”
“The President is coming?” asked Kara excitedly, her anxiety forgotten.
“Yes, he is,” replied Douglas, smiling. “Would you all like to sit down?” He waved at the conference table. Jarrod took up a station near the door, while Emily and the girls sat.
There was a knock at the door.
“Ah, that’ll be the refreshments. Would anyone like something to drink?”
• • •
“OK,” said Caitlin as they drove through the streets of Milford. “Was that really the U.S. government or have we landed in Bizarro World?”
“What’s Bizarro World?” asked Kara.
“I’ll tell you later,” said Caitlin. “Em, what’s up with this?”
Emily thought as she drove. It was getting on in the evening and the girls would barely have time to do their schoolwork once they arrived home.
“I think we were interrogated, but it was certainly the nicest interrogation I’ve ever heard of,” she mused. “Considering this was one of my ‘ultimate disaster end of the world worst case’ scenarios, it turned out pretty well.”
“That was like the ‘Hello Kitty’ version of interrogation,” observed Caitlin. “It couldn’t have been any nicer if they hugged us.”
They’d been asked what seemed like a thousand questions. This despite their hosts already seeming to know a truly creepy amount about Emily and Caitlin.
A child psychologist had come in. Emily had explained the reluctant process that had led from her complete refusal to allow Kara to use her powers in public to the debut of Supergirl. The psychologist had interviewed Kara about how she felt about helping. He’d wanted to talk to her in private but Emily had insisted on being present. There’d been no pushback on that.
He’d ultimately agreed with Emily’s approach to the issue. He’d recommended she continue to exercise caution in what Kara was permitted to do, as if he advised the parents of preteen superheroes all the time.
They’d been served dinner.
The President had arrived and had a friendly chat with them all, for a bit more than an hour. He’d asked about their family life and personal interests. Considering that he was the
President of the United States, Emily was impressed with how much time he’d spent with them. He’d seemed a little stiff at first but had quickly grown warmer.
He’d spent the most time talking to Kara, asking her not only about life in Milford but also life in Metropolis. He’d laughed when she’d asked if he was really the President. After some back and forth they’d realized that wherever she came from, he wasn’t. There was a President Cutler in office instead.
He’d asked about her father, Clark Kent. Not about his superpowers, or Superman, but about him as a person. Kara had been quite voluble about her family and gotten a bit sniffly. Tissues had been provided.
Emily had had the distinct impression that they were all being treated as VIPs. This had been driven home by the discussion of Secret Service protection. Not the President’s. Theirs.
The Secret Service wanted Jarrod to be around them full time. Emily had pointed out they couldn’t fit anyone else in the cottage and besides, how would they explain the new member of the household? DHS had promised to go off and brainstorm. Perhaps they’d rent another house on the street.
As a parting gift they’d been given a list of contacts to call if they needed anything. Emily had not given them any phone numbers; they hadn’t asked. She figured they already knew them all.
Emily tapped on the steering wheel as she waited to make a left turn. “Kara, let me ask you a hypothetical question: how would you feel if the government took you away from Caitlin and me, or took us away and put us in jail or something?”
Kara thought for a moment. “I guess I’d be pretty mad. I don’t know what I’d do, though.”
“And how do you think your dad would feel if you got hurt, or the government treated you badly?”
“He’d be really angry, but…” she shivered, “but
Mom would completely blow her stack.”
“Oh,” said Caitlin. “Now I get it.”
Emily nodded. “I think they approve of what you’re doing, Kara. As long as that’s the case they want to keep us happy.” She sighed. “Let’s hope we can keep it that way.”
• • •
Mike Hooper closed the door to his room at the Super 8 Motel on Route 1 and walked to his car, to head into downtown Milford for the day. Personally, he thought the lead for this trip was thin. However, the Supergirl story was still white hot and his bosses at the CNN Philadelphia bureau thought it was worth checking out. If something came of it he’d get a camera crew from a local affiliate and film a report.
He was planning to stop at the police station first to ask about the kidnapping, but knew they were unlikely to give out any details that hadn’t already been in the local paper. He could always ask them to give his contact information to the foster family of the girl, to see if they were willing to grant an interview.
He had to be very careful about any investigation involving minors: people tended to get suspicious when you started asking questions about kids, especially girls. Mike thoroughly approved but it made his job harder.
His best leads were probably the guys at the marina and the man whose boat had sunk. If he was confident they weren’t faking it the security tape was enough to get the story on the air.
• • •
Mike sat down with his pastry and coffee in front of the bakery downtown and reviewed his notes.
He tended to believe what he’d heard from the men he’d talked to that morning. Scott Reid in particular had said he didn’t recall anything from the time his boat sank to when he woke up in the ambulance. Similarly, the two men at the marina office hadn’t had much to say beyond the bare details of the story. People who invented stories to get on TV tended to embellish them with detail they thought would interest viewers. They usually didn’t say they couldn’t remember anything.
The biggest question was, what had Supergirl been doing in Milford, a small city in the middle of rural Delaware? If the kidnapping was related, what had she been doing in Milford
twice?
Mr. Reid’s boat had sunk a couple of miles offshore in Delaware Bay. There had been no witnesses to his calls for help, no radio report; no one had known he was in trouble. This was a vital detail that hadn’t been in the original letter or the local news reports. How had Supergirl known about it? He didn’t know how far her hearing extended, but just based on the speed of sound and the timing she couldn’t have been too far away.
She must already have been near Milford when the accident occurred.
Mike started to get a prickly feeling on the back of his neck. He supposed she could have just been passing through, to Mr. Reid’s good fortune. But if she’d been here twice…
He took a bite of his pastry and a sip of his coffee, and looked around. At least it was a beautiful fall day. He supposed the outside tables wouldn’t get used for too much longer.
He caught the eye of an elderly man at the other table, who smiled at him. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” said the man.
“That it is,” agreed Mike. “Nice town.”
“You not from around here? Come to think of it you don’t look familiar, and Milford isn’t that big.”
“No, you’re right. I’m a reporter in town on an assignment.”
The old man perked up. “A reporter, eh? Say, do you think you could look into the noise problem from the air base?”
Mike didn’t have any intention of doing so but played along. “Maybe I could. What noise problem is that?”
“Those jet fighters they have. Every few days there’s a sonic boom. I admit they’re not that loud, but they’re annoying.”
Mike took another sip of coffee. “How long’s it been going on?”
“Started two, three weeks ago I reckon.”
“Huh,” said Mike. “Thanks for the tip. I’m busy with my own assignment but I’ll pass it on where I work.” Mike honestly thought he might; it might make a good local interest story.
“Well, thank you.” The man tipped his head, then motioned towards the notebook computer on the table in front of Mike. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take you away from your work. I’ll let you get back to it.”
Mike smiled. “Not a problem.”
Mike went back to work on his story. As expected, the police had been tightlipped about the girl. Since the case involved a minor they’d refused to give out any personal information. Mike had learned few details beyond the news account.
She’d been found unconscious by the side of the road, late at night. She’d had nothing but the clothes she was wearing. Other than a short illness, no doubt due to exposure, she’d been unharmed, thankfully. She’d been found by a driver going by. Chloroform had been found in her blood so it was definitely a kidnapping. But why had the kidnappers dumped her by the side of the road?
Mike had a hard time believing that Supergirl would dump an unconscious, feverish girl her own age out in the middle of nowhere, even if she hadn’t wanted to be seen at that point. It was just too dangerous. Too many things could go wrong.
Her own age…Mike frowned. The timing was plausible. But Supergirl wouldn’t be susceptible to chloroform or illness, would she? Nor could she have a blood sample taken: bullets had bounced off her in Colorado. Really, the thought didn’t make sense.
Something was buzzing in the back of his head, but Mike couldn’t quite put it together. He needed to take a break from thinking about this. He pulled out his smartphone and looked for information on fighters at Dover AFB — his laptop didn’t have a cellular connection.
Wikipedia listed the commands stationed there as airlift. No fighters or anything else supersonic. Mike frowned.
Well, Wikipedia wasn’t always up to date. The man had said it had started two or three weeks ago…
Mike closed his eyes. What if Supergirl hadn’t been in Milford the one time, or twice? What if this was her home base?
He looked around. It seemed ridiculous. Why here, of all places?
Unless she were kidnapped. Brought from… wherever, and left here?On a whim, Mike Googled “Supergirl Delaware.”
He scanned the listing and stopped about three quarters of the way down the page. There was a listing for Metropolis in Wikipedia, and he didn’t even need to follow the link: the summary read “… stated that Metropolis was located in Delaware …” He followed the link anyway, and read about the various locations proposed for Metropolis.
One of them was exactly where Milford was located.
Mike had the prickly feeling on his neck again. He picked up his coffee, tossed the remains of his pastry into a nearby trash can, and headed for his car.
Dover was only a half hour away.
• • •
Mike didn’t go anywhere near the air base; he knew better than to try to get information out of the military personnel. He could point out that the sky was blue and they’d just say they couldn’t comment.
Instead he went to Starbucks and started interviewing people, saying he was doing a story about noise pollution. He asked them if there was a problem with sonic booms from fighter jets.
No one recalled hearing any jets or sonic booms. One man testily informed him there hadn’t been a fighter jet at Dover in years.
One woman had observed a different aircraft. “There haven’t been any jets, but the President was here a few days ago.”
“The President? Are you sure?” There hadn’t been any release from the White House about a visit by the President to Dover AFB.
“Well, it was his helicopter, anyway. Marine One. It’s pretty easy to recognize.”
Mike had to allow as how it was, in fact, pretty easy to recognize.
He thought hard on the drive back to Milford. He had a theory but it was pretty speculative at this point. The key to proving it or disproving it was the kidnapped girl. However, finding her was going to be a big problem. Hanging around spying on kids at the middle school was a good way to get arrested. The police weren’t talking.
This story wasn’t going to be easy.
• • •
