From part 7:
There was probably no way - *no way* - to continue to conceal his… problem from Lois.
Who didn’t know his secret.
Who didn’t *like* not knowing secrets.
Who was almost certainly going to discover his secret.
Who was likely to kill him - figuratively speaking - when she found out.
Clark was doomed.
And now, part 8:-----
Five hours later, Lois and Clark sat on the couch in the main room of the suite. Both were dressed in casual, after-work clothing - shorts and t-shirts - and they’d just finished eating the room service meal which had been provided as part of the hotel’s ‘honeymoon package’.
When they had arrived at the Lexor, the bellboy had insisted on videotaping the ‘groom’ carrying his ‘bride’ over the suite’s threshold – “It’s part of the Lexor Honeymoon Experience,” he’d said.
Clark had hammed it up; he’d had to. Lois had initially been stiff and tense when he’d lifted her in his arms. He’d pretended to stagger under her weight, and she’d had to throw her arms around his neck.
They’d both been laughing by the time he’d entered the suite. The lightness of the moment plus holding Lois in his arms had conspired to bring Clark slightly off the floor, but he’d managed to set Lois down before he’d achieved any noticable height.
The bellboy had pointed out the suite’s amenities, taken the luggage to the bedroom and - to Lois’s amazed indignation - unpacked for them.
She’d still been muttering dire imprecations under her breath about the nerve of complete strangers when Clark had tipped the man and showed him out of the suite.
Shortly thereafter, Jimmy had arrived with a large tote full of equipment.
He’d set up the surveillance equipment for them in the bedroom. He’d brought a video camera with a telephoto lens and a tripod, and a spotting scope with its own tripod. He’d also set up a directional microphone equipped with a digital recorder.
Then he’d moved into the main room of the suite, and had set up a laptop computer and small printer on one end of the table in front of the couch.
“Okay, guys,” he’d said, “this is a wireless setup. You can access the Internet, of course, but also - the microphone and camera are networked to the computer and printer. You can print anything you record with the microphone or the camera, or you can import the sound and video files directly into the computer. The microphone’s voice activated, and you’ll hear an alert when the microphone picks something up. So you can monitor activity from out here, but most of the equipment’s not visible to visitors.”
Clark had found himself wondering, once again, why Jimmy hadn’t pursued a career in computers or IT - the kid could probably have become a millionaire. He doubted Perry knew the surveillance equipment he’d authorized was so sophisticated, but Jimmy had made the most of its abilities.
Shortly after Jimmy had left, before either Lois or Clark could begin to feel uncomfortable with the whole situation, there’d been a knock at the door.
The same bellboy who had delivered and unpacked their luggage had delivered their meal. He’d set it up - complete with main entrees, a selection of desserts, a flower arrangement, elegant tapers in heavy silver bases, a fruit basket, and a bottle of very high quality champagne - with much pomp and circumstance at a small linen-draped table near the gas fireplace. He’d lit the tapers and the fire, dimmed the room lights, and then accepted the tip Clark had proffered and had left the suite.
After a brief, somewhat uncomfortable moment, Clark had turned the lights back up while Lois approached the table to inspect its offerings. Clark had returned to the table and started to reach for the tapers, when surprisingly, Lois had stopped him.
“It’s okay, Clark, leave them lit; they’re kind of pretty,” she’d said with a slightly self-conscious grin. He’d smiled back and they’d sat down to enjoy the excellent food. Clark had had to keep his foot tucked under his chair for the entire meal, and even so, he had hovered a centimeter or so off the chair’s seat the entire time.
The idea of staying with Lois, in essence living with her, even for a few short days, was already increasing his longing for her. Perhaps here, in the cozy and protected world of the suite, was the ‘right place and time’ he was looking for before he revealed his secret. If it was, then all he needed to do was gather his courage and… tell her.
<...Maybe later…>
Now they were familiarizing themselves with the computer Jimmy had set up for them. Lois had decided to test the system by turning the directional microphone until she picked up voices.
Once she’d zeroed in on a conversation, she had returned to the suite’s main room. Clark had confirmed that the computer had sounded an alert when the microphone picked up the voices. The conversation didn’t show up on the laptop’s screen, but the printer delivered a copy when they tested the print function.
“This is nice, Clark,” Lois said, “Everybody travels with computers these days, so the hotel staff won’t think twice about our having a computer with us on our ‘honeymoon’. And there won’t be anything scrolling across the computer screen for just anyone to see, either.”
She tried importing the sound file, and the importation and playback also worked flawlessly.
<< …So I told her to stop calling me. I mean, when a thing’s over it’s over. Right? >>
<< Exactly right. Next time, don't even pick up the phone. Remember when I dumped Tawny? Women hang on like there's no tomorrow. >>
Lois grimaced. “I’ve heard enough,” she said disgustedly. “Turn it off, Clark… and delete the file, too.”
While Clark deleted the file and tore up the printout, Lois returned to the bedroom and turned the microphone so that it was once again aimed toward the office where she had seen Harrington and company on the previous night.
“What if no one shows?” Clark asked her when she returned to the main room.
“Then the honeymoon’s over,” she replied, “…but don’t worry, they’ll show.”
“For now, we just wait,” she added around a huge yawn. “I’m going to bed, Clark. You’ve got the first shift. Wake me up when our friends across the way show.”
“Wait a minute,” Clark said, “aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Like what?” Lois asked warily.
“There’s only one bedroom,” Clark replied with a grin. “How about we flip for the bed?” He tucked one foot slightly under the front edge of the couch where he was still sitting. <Better safe than… floating.>
“How about: I get the bed, I lend you a pillow,” Lois stated, her hands on her hips.
“How about we alternate nights?” Clark returned.
“How about we don't?’ she shot back at him.
Clark laughed. “It's a really *big* bed,” he said, “We could share.”
Lois sighed theatrically, but she was smiling, too. “How about we alternate nights?” she asked.
“Deal,” Clark said, delighted that she was so comfortable with him in such an… intimate setting. It was a good thing he was anchored, so to speak, or he would have been hovering above the couch - and trying to explain his lack of gravity to his partner.
Lois retreated to the bedroom and closed the door, only to reopen it a few moments later bearing a pillow and a blanket.
“Here, Clark,” she said almost shyly, and returned to the bedroom before he could do more than thank her.
“Goodnight, Lois,” he called.
There was no answer.
He stretched out on the couch; not the most comfortable of fits, he was finding.
“Lois? Goodnight,” he called again, smiling.
There was still no answer.
“Good ni-i-i-ght, Lois,” he sang, and was rewarded with her laughter and a firm “Oh, goodnight, Clark!” from Lois.
---
He was awakened by the soft beep of the laptop signalling that the microphone was picking something up. He stood up from the couch and headed toward the bedroom, only to hesitate by the closed door.
He lowered his glasses to peer through the door, but stopped himself. It felt like an invasion of her privacy to look through the door.
She had, however, told him to wake her up if there was any activity.
He settled his glasses firmly on his nose and knocked briskly on the bedroom door, then opened it.
“Lois?” he asked. “Wake up; they’re back.”
She woke surprisingly quickly, and was soon standing at the window watching the office through her binoculars. “Turn up the microphone, Clark,” she requested without removing her gaze from the building across the street.
Clark turned the dial and the men’s voices sounded clearly in the room.
<< That's the last of the system specs. I'll have the information on the testing for you tomorrow. Dates, procedures, the whole thing. >>
<< Good. What about a new vote? >>
<< I can't initiate a re-vote until after the test results are analyzed and the plan rejected. Hopefully... >>
<< 'Hopefully' isn't good enough. That's why I bought insurance: *you*. >>
Lois and Clark glanced at each other, then turned back to the office.
Clark recognized Congressman Harrington; looking closely at the other two men, he asked Lois, “Are those the same two guys Harrington was with on Sunday night?”
“Yes,” she said, “We need to send a video clip to Jimmy and see if he can ID those two.”
The older of the two men with Harrington was short, stocky, and dressed all in black. He seemed to be the one in charge. The other man appeared to be little more than hired muscle; he wore a white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his heavily muscled, tattooed arms, and a gun in a shoulder holster.
Harrington had handed Guy-In-Charge Goon a large manilla envelope, and was now transferring stacks of money from one briefcase to another. Guy-In-Charge Goon leafed through the sheaf of documents he’d taken from the envelope, while Hired-Muscle Goon watched Harrington with an unpleasant smile on his face.
As Lois and Clark watched, Harrington closed the second briefcase, picked it up, and turned toward the door.
Hired-Muscle Goon immediately advanced on Harrington, shoving him hard against the wall, and almost casually lifted the muzzle of his gun and set it against Harrington’s temple.
<< I own you lock, stock, and re-election fund, Mr. Chairman. Never forget that, >> Guy-In-Charge Goon said, watching impassively. At his nod, Hired-Muscle Goon stepped back from Harrington, holstering his gun.
Harrington, face white, stepped away from the wall, nodded shakily, and exited the room at a speed worthy of a much younger and healthier man.
Lois and Clark looked at each other again, and Lois said, “Clark, I don’t know what’s going on, but I think it may be even bigger than I originally thought. And I think Harrington’s in over his head. Once we figure out what they’re talking about, we may be able to get to Harrington. I think he would probably sell out to save his skin.”
“I think you’re right, Lois,” Clark said, watching Guy-In-Charge Goon leave the office. “Looks like they’re done for tonight, though,” he continued, “let’s get some sleep, and see what Jimmy can help us find out in the morning.”
He looked at her properly for the first time since he’d woken her up. She was wearing baggy sleep shorts and a loose t-shirt, and looked utterly adorable. Feeling his feet begin to leave the floor, he surreptitiously tucked his fingers under the edge of the windowsill.
“What?” she asked, catching him staring.
“Nothing. It's just that, well, you look pretty... decent, for the middle of the night,” he told her.
“Oh,” she said, “…you look decent, too.”
There was an awkward moment of silence as they stared at each other. Lois was the first to look away, blushing slightly.
“Well, um… goodnight, Clark,” she said, moving away from the window.
He got a strong grip on his emotions, forcing his feet down onto the floor, and with a quickly echoed, “Goodnight, Lois.” he let go of the windowsill and left the bedroom.
-----
Clark was glad he didn’t need as much sleep as most people did. He was awake long before Lois was stirring, and Superman had done a quick patrol over the city.
He had been floating in his sleep, but since Lois was in the bedroom and he was sleeping on the couch <above the couch> he hadn’t been too worried about it.
He had returned to the suite just as she was stirring.
He’d had one bad moment, shortly after he returned, when Lois had exited the bathroom wrapped only in one of the Lexor’s huge, luxurious toweling robes. She was swallowed up in it, but there was something about her slight form, flushed face and damp hair that he found very appealing.
He was lucky she hurried into the bedroom and shut the door; if she’d looked back at him she’d have seen her partner floating six inches above the floor. Chances were good she’d have had something to say about that.
By the time she emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed if not fully awake, he’d managed to return to the floor and order the Lexor’s signature breakfast, and had it set up and waiting for her. There was coffee, of course, but they had no way to take it with them without appearing suspicious. Lois gulped down a cup while they ate, but she usually needed more than one cup in the morning.
There was always coffee available in the newsroom, however, and there was a coffee kiosk in the Planet’s lobby. Clark got them each a cup of the daily gourmet blend before they entered the elevator, and Lois smiled gratefully at him as they continued up to the newsroom.
At the morning staff meeting, there was some good-natured teasing from some of the Daily Planet staff regarding Lois and Clark’s accomodations at the Lexor, but faced with Lois’s best Mad Dog Lane running-low-on-caffeine glare, even the most clueless got the message and backed off.
Only Clark saw the amusement in her eyes as their co-workers hurriedly shuffled pens, papers, coffee cups, and donuts, avoiding her gaze.
She flashed him a quick grin and a wink, and he had to hastily look down at his notes to keep from laughing out loud. He also had to grip the edge of his chair seat to keep from rising off it. With a supreme effort of will, he suppressed both his laughter and the floating.
Perry entered the room with his usual blustery greeting and immediately demanded his staff’s progress reports. While he worked his way around the assembled staff, Clark, feeling more in control, looked at Lois again. She smiled sweetly at him, then turned her attention to Perry as he addressed them.
“Lois, Clark? Any progress?” he asked.
“Some, Chief,” Lois replied.
“Some audio and video but still a complete mystery,” Clark added.
“Show me what you’ve got when we’re done here,” Perry said, continuing, “Friaz! What’ve you got for me?”
After the morning meeting broke up, they stayed behind and presented what they had so far to Perry. Jimmy was also present, at Lois and Clark’s request, since they needed him for a fair amount of research.
The four of them tossed ideas around; the primary theory was that Guy-In-Charge Goon wanted information about some new weapon the Defense Department was currently testing, although *why* he wanted the information was a mystery.
They presented Jimmy with a list of information they sought: Who was Guy-In-Charge Goon? Was he working for someone else? What ‘system’ were they talking about? What ‘test’? What ‘vote’? What, exactly, was Harrington selling to Guy-In-Charge Goon?
The ‘why’ of it seemed pretty obvious - big bucks. No one would court the kind of danger Harrington seemed to be in for anything less than a large amount of money.
“You two need any other help?” Perry asked them.
“Thanks, Chief, but no, we’re… coping,” Lois answered with a grin, glancing at Clark. At his nod, Perry dismissed them with, “You’ve got two more days in the suite - make the most of them.”
By lunchtime, they had discovered, via Jimmy, that the office suite was registered to a company called Apocolypse Consulting. “No bank accounts or transactions that I can trace,” Jimmy had said. “Apocolypse moved in a couple weeks ago. Paid off a five year lease on the offices *in advance*.”
After some extensive searching, Jimmy had discovered that the business was a subsidiary of a company called Shore Services, which in turn was a subsidiary of another company, Huxtoller Industries, which was based in the Cayman Islands.
“Tax shelter or shell company?” Lois asked Clark. They were sitting at the table in the conference room, surrounded by printouts. Jimmy sat at one of the computers, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he searched for information on Harrington’s two goons.
He’d printed pictures of both Guy-In-Charge Goon and Hired-Muscle Goon from the video clip Lois and Clark had sent him, and was searching for them in image databases too.
He had exhausted all of the resources that the Planet had legitimate access to, and had come up with nothing. He was currently seeking information from… other sources, as he’d put it.
“I found him, guys,” he said suddenly with glee. “Look at this!”
Both Lois and Clark stood and peered over his shoulder, while Jimmy read the highlights aloud, “Thaddeus Roarke. International arms dealer, electronic weapons system analyst, entrepreneur, and general bad boy. Last known base of operations: Beirut.”
“Arms dealer and House Defense Committee,” Clark said, “it’s beginning to make sense.”
“We need more information, Clark,” Lois said, “We have video and audio but we need to hear what, exactly, Roarke has planned in regards to this ‘test’ they were talking about.”
“Let’s go back to the Lexor, Lois,” Clark suggested. “We’ve still got a fair amount of audio and video files to go through.”
“Can you stay at it awhile longer, Jimmy?” he asked.
“See if you can find us the voting records for Harrington’s committee, for the past year,” Lois added.
“Sure, guys,” Jimmy replied, “The Chief told me to help you find whatever you need. I can fax anything I find to you at the hotel.”
Lois gathered up the printouts and stuffed them into her briefcase, then headed for the elevators, tossing a quick “Thanks, Jimmy” over her shoulder. Clark followed her after reminding Jimmy to be careful. “I think we may be dealing with some pretty dangerous people.”
---
Lois and Clark spent the afternoon at the Lexor, working their way through the video and audio recordings they had so far. Most of what they had was the conversation they’d witnessed the night before, but there was also a very short fragment of Guy-In-Charge Goon - Roarke - on the phone, possibly to Harrington.
They’d imported all of the video and sound files to the laptop. They were currently sitting on the couch in the Honeymoon Suite’s main room, watching one of the video files.
It had been recorded that morning while they’d been at the Planet. The video showed Roarke entering the office with a briefcase, transferring the contents of the briefcase to the filing cabinet along one wall, and then dialing a phone number.
He didn’t identify himself to the party at the other end of the phone, nor did he bother with any greeting.
<< ... no possible way the test will be postponed? >> he asked brusquely.
And after listening for a moment, << Good. And after the test fails, we'll get *my* system approved and installed. How soon before you can vote again? >>
He listened again for a moment, frowning, and issued a flat << No. >>
He concluded the short conversation with << After what happens at that test, no one will be interested in 'modification proposals’. >>
He hung up the phone decisively, shut the empty briefcase, and left the office.
“It *has* to be some sort of weapons system, Clark,” Lois said frustratedly after they’d heard Roarke’s phone conversation twice. “He keeps talking about a ‘test’ and its certain failure. They must be sabotaging something, and I think it’s going to happen soon!”
Clark had used his super hearing to listen to the other side of Roarke’s conversation; it had, as they had suspected, been Harrington.
Harrington’s reply to Roarke’s initial question had been << Weather's clear. Naval monitoring ships are en route. Dawn, day after tomorrow. It's set. >>
His reply to Roarke’s second queston had been << There'll be delays, of course. Analysis of test results, modification proposals... >>
And lastly, << We have to go through the process, Thaddeus. >>
The entire conversation, both sides, shed little more light on the mystery than listening to only Roarke’s side of it had. The only new things Clark knew were that the test in question involved something in the ocean and that they were, indeed, running out of time.
How to tell Lois he knew that? There was no way to explain how he’d heard Harrington.
The sound of the printer coming to life interrupted his rather glum musings.
He read the cover sheet as it was fed out of the machine, and told Lois, “From Jimmy. Voting records of the House Defense Committee.”
She leaned across him and took the next sheet as it fell into the printer’s tray, and still leaning against him, skimmed down it quickly.
“Let’s see…” she mused, “here’s something: Harrington’s committee voted on something called Shock Wave five weeks ago…”
The feel of her, warm against him, lightened Clark’s mood considerably - and with some alarm, he noticed his seat on the couch was also lightening. He hurriedly shifted enough to tuck one foot under the front of the couch, stopping his upward movement.
His sudden movement jarred Lois and she pulled back from him.
He grinned sheepishly at her as she said, with some asperity, “Clark! I bet your mother had to tie you to your chair at suppertime! You take fidgeting to a whole new level!”
He laughed as a quick mental picture of himself, tethered to a chair in his parents’ kitchen and bobbing around like a balloon, flashed through his mind.
Lois laughed with him but quickly sobered as she returned her attention to the fax. “…Where was I? Oh, yes… Here! 'Appropriation approval for system installation’. Passed eight to zero, with one abstention…”
“Congressman Ian Harrington!” they said in unison.
Now that Lois wasn’t leaning on him, Clark was settled fully onto the couch again. While he was relieved that he was back at full gravity, he knew he’d rather have her near him than not - even if it meant his apparent ‘fidgeting’ would continue.
They read through the rest of the document, but found no other information that stood out.
“Okay, we know there’s some sort of system… a weapons system? …called Shock Wave,” Lois said.
“And Roarke is using Harrington to help him sabotage it, whatever it is,” Clark said.
“We’ve got to find out what it is,” Lois said. “If we can figure that out…”
“…we’ve got him.,” Clark finished. “We’ve got video, audio...”
“…research,’’ Lois said, adding, “I wish we had enough to publish. Roarke scares me. If half of what we’ve heard is true... he's got to be stopped.”
“Lois, I think you’re right - it’s going to be soon,” Clark said, as the phone rang.
Lois answered it. It was Jimmy calling with more information; she put him on speakerphone so Clark could hear him, too.
<< Is this a good time, guys? >> Jimmy asked. << I’m not interrupting anything, right? I don’t want to mess up your stay but I have some information on the other guy with Harrington. >>
“Jimmy, this is *not* an actual honeymoon,” Lois told him.
<< Oh, sure, I mean, I know that, but you know, the Honeymoon Suite… and you guys are, well, uh… you know, you might as well be… uh… >> Jimmy stumbled on. Clark was having a hard time containing his amusement, and it appeared that Lois, lips twitching, could see the humor in the situation too.
“Never mind, Jimmy,” she said briskly, “just tell us what you’ve got.”
<< Okay, uh… his name is Bart Teller, >> Jimmy said. He sounded relieved, probably that Lois had changed the subject. << He’s available to the highest bidder for just about any kind of racket and has been in and out of jail for years. He’s usually a bodyguard and sometimes an ‘enforcer’, and has been arrested at least twice for intimidation. >>
“Anything else?” Clark asked him.
<< That’s all I could find, but I’ve got some ideas where to dig for more information on Shock Wave. It’s classified so it’s going to take some serious digging, but I might be able to come up with something… >>
“Be careful, though, okay?” Clark asked him, and having assured them that he would be very cautious, Jimmy wished them goodnight and hung up.
Clark’s super hearing picked up the soft click of the door latch as their targets returned to the office across the street just before the computer alerted them that the microphone had been activated.
---
tbc
