From part 26:
She saw Clark’s sudden move as he reacted to something that she didn’t hear. He thrust the mugger into the policemen’s hands and in the next instant had disappeared. He’d moved too fast for her to follow, which was pretty impressive.
She strained her ears, but heard nothing.
How frustrating. The speed with which he’d left implied something important, unless he’d somehow heard or sensed her up here watching and was replaying the scene at the airport… She whirled around.
Nothing.
Okay, so there had been an emergency of some sort. She had no idea where he was; she’d have to go back to the Planet and discreetly listen for any news of an emergency of some sort, or any Superman sightings.
Turning, she headed back toward the Planet. Might as well go work on the bomb story. And maybe set Jimmy to finding out what he could about the security for the building with the bomb.
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The Girl Next Door, part 27:
When Clark finally returned to the Planet, at almost lunchtime, she was just about ready to scream from frustration. She’d heard nothing that gave her any clues as to where he’d been or what he’d been doing.
He looked…not tired, exactly. But definitely not his usual cheerful self. It was more like he was… preoccupied. Yes, that was it. He looked preoccupied, worried – as if something quite serious was bothering him.
He flashed his usual smile at her, but it fell flat. He might look much the same as always to anyone else, but he couldn’t hide his disquiet from her, and it shone through the smile. There was no danger of floating today.
She watched anxiously as he came down the ramp and arrived at her desk. Pulling out her desk chair, he sat down, saying, “Hi, partner. What are we working on?”
“Clark, what’s wrong?” she demanded.
He hesitated, then leaned forward, rested his elbows on her desk, and dropped his head into his hands with weary sigh. Alarmed, she asked, “Clark, are you okay?”
He raised his head and glanced around the newsroom, then looked at her somberly. “Lois.” He spoke very softly. “Can we talk? Privately…” He looked around again. No one appeared to be paying any attention to them. “Let’s use one of the conference rooms.”
She suppressed a frisson of fear. There was something really wrong. She’d never seen Clark like this. In his Superman guise, he could be formal and stern, but this was… He looked troubled. Grim. Almost angry, in fact.
“Okay.” It was almost a whisper. He rose to his feet and pulled her chair out for her, and she stood and followed him to the smaller conference room.
As soon as he closed the conference room door behind them, she whirled and demanded, “Clark, what’s wrong?”
He hesitated, and her fevered imagination began to conjure up worst-case scenarios. He was… was quitting his job and moving back to Kansas. Or no, he’d… changed his mind about… them. Their relationship. No… He’d met someone else. Or… his parents were ill. *He* was ill. No, wait. He was Superman; he couldn’t *get* ill. He was…
He was repeating her name, in a voice that suggested he’d already repeated it more than once.
She blinked and realized that she’d been standing there, staring at him without seeing him. She’d been seeing him in her mind, remembering. Remembering when they’d first met – how startled they’d both been, and how attracted to each other. How she’d fought it. Remembering all the sweet things he had done – still did – for her. Remembering –
She was startled when he stepped in very close to her, tugging her gently into his arms. As she looked up at him, he brought one hand up under her hair, cradling the back of her head as he bent his own and kissed her tenderly. And then lifted his mouth a hair’s breadth from hers to whisper her name.
“Lois, sweetheart, are *you* all right?” He pressed a second gentle kiss to her mouth.
Neither of them remembered that they could be seen by anyone who cared to look into the conference room through the wide-open blinds.
“Clark.” She closed her eyes and tipped her forehead against his chest for a brief moment. “I’m okay. I’m just…” she drew a deep breath and looked back up at him.
There was still something very much the matter - she could feel it.
“I’m worried – scared – for you. Clark, what’s the matter? What is it? Did something happen? Did you…” She caught her breath as something else occurred to her. “Oh, God. Has someone discovered… your secret?”
He was still holding her. “Lois, no.” His arms loosened and he turned her toward the conference room table.
“Here, sit down,” he added, pulling out a chair on one side of the table for her.
She sank into it as he pulled out a chair at the end of the table, at a right angle to hers, and dropped into it.
“It’s nothing like that,” he continued. “Nothing terrible. At least… Well, it’s… troubling. I thought I might be imagining it, but…” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table and dropped his forehead into his hands with a heavy sigh.
“Clark!” Now she was really worried.
He lifted his head, looking at her soberly. “I think…” He hesitated. “I’ve thought and thought about it… And I just don’t know how else to explain it, Lois. I think someone is… testing me.”
“Testing you?” she asked, confused. “What do you mean?”
“The last few…” He frowned and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know… *things*… that Superman was needed for were…” He shook his head in frustration. “They were… false alarms. Sort of.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, bewildered. “Somebody called you when they didn’t need you? So… somebody just panicked or something. It’s happened before, Clark.”
He shook his head. “No. No… Okay, look – the bomb threats, for instance…”
“Well, yeah – the one yesterday was a false alarm, but there was a real bomb this morning, Clark. Just because it didn’t explode doesn’t make it a false alarm.”
“No… I know.” He had slouched in the chair and was staring at his hands as he fiddled with a pen someone had left on the table. “Maybe I shouldn’t say false alarms. Maybe *setups* is a better word.” He looked up at her. “At this last bomb threat, there were similarities to the first one today.”
“The *first* one today?” She sat up straight. Had she misheard him? “What do you mean, the first one *today*, Clark? And what ‘last’ one? There was another one? Here? In the city? There wasn’t anything on the news – and… And I didn’t hear anything, either.”
He was shaking his head. “It wasn’t in Metropolis. It was in Washington. But… Yeah. After I left you this morning, downtown… Well, you know I went to that mugging. And right after I nabbed the guy, I was called to the second bomb threat.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “…I wondered where you’d gone.” He’d heard this latest bomb threat, in Washington, all the way from Metropolis? Even Clark’s hearing wasn’t *that* good, was it?
He straightened up, leaning forward. The pen rolled in a loose arc, coming to rest near her hand. “See, that’s what finally made me realize I’m not imagining this,” he said earnestly. “There were too many similarities to the first bomb today. And to the one yesterday. I think they’re setups, Lois. Someone has been planting bombs deliberately. To… lure Superman, I think.”
“Clark, I don’t understand. What similarities? How many bombs were there? And how did you know about the one in Washington? You can’t hear that far, can you?”
“No. At least, not unless I really concentrate, and even then, it’d have to be a fairly loud noise. I could probably hear a cry for help, but anything else – a conversation, something on a TV or radio, or something like that - I’d have to sort of be expecting it, you know?” He looked at her curiously. “Didn’t you ever test it out, Lois? See exactly how far you could see or hear?”
Momentarily sidetracked, she answered, “Well, sort of.” She stopped and thought about it for a moment, then frowned. “No, not really. I spent my whole life being very careful to *not* overhear things I shouldn’t. I guess… my focus was more on learning to live with the sheer amount of noise coming at me all the time. Mama used to sing to me – that’s how she taught me to… choose what I listened to.”
He was nodding. “Selective hearing. Yes, it takes on a whole new meaning for us, doesn’t it? I remember how scared I was when I was learning to control it. In a way, it was worse than when my super vision started. I could choose not to look at something, but learning to filter out the bulk of all that noise was really hard.”
She nodded, remembering. “I only really started seriously using my extra noi- um, my super hearing after I started working as a journalist. Well, when I was an intern at the Planet. I sort of tested it out then, I guess. It came in handy, you know – if I could overhear things without being close enough to be caught eavesdropping…”
He was grinning and nodding. “Yep, been there and done that, too. Yes, it’s a huge advantage in some situations, isn’t it? Although then you have to explain how you overheard something at a distance.” He chuckled. “Once, I told an editor I could lip-read. It was the only thing I could think of, but after that he never asked me again, so he must have believed it.”
She laughed. “Very creative, Kent.”
They had strayed off the subject, but the reminiscing and banter seemed to have eased some of his tension.
“So…” she hesitated. “…how many bombs have there been now, Clark? Three?”
He sobered, but to her relief, he didn’t seem as upset as he had earlier. “Well, technically, two – one in Metropolis, and one in Washington. But there were three threats - one yesterday and two today.” He picked up the pen again, capping and uncapping it absentmindedly.
“And how did you hear about the one in Washington?” she asked curiously. “Because I didn’t hear anything, and it wasn’t on the news – at least, not on LNN. And if LNN didn’t have a story, I doubt it would be on any of the local TV stations, either.”
“When I was handing the mugger over to the police, I heard a bulletin on their car’s radio.”
“But…” She shook her head in confusion. “…Why would a bomb threat in Washington be broadcast by the Metropolis police?”
He sighed. “I wondered the same thing, so I stopped by both police stations – in Washington and Metropolis - after the bomb was dealt with. It turns out that some anonymous someone called police headquarters here in Metropolis, asking for Superman’s help.”
“Someone from the Washington police?”
He shook his head. “No. Bill Henderson says it wasn’t an official request from Washington, but that when he checked with them, they acknowledged receiving a bomb threat. They then officially asked for my – for Superman’s – help, if Bill could get a message to me. He decided I’d be very likely to overhear a call put out on the police radios, especially since two units had responded to a call to assist Superman at a mugging in progress.”
“Who called police headquarters about the bomb? Do they know who this ‘anonymous someone’ is? Were they able to trace the call?”
“I don’t know - I don’t think so. Bill said there was some concern that it was a prank call, which is why he called Washington to verify the threat first.”
“Well, we need to find out who it was, then,” she declared. “How bad was it – the one in Washington? Was it just another threat or was there a real bomb?”
“It was a real bomb – it exploded when I entered the building. No one was hurt, though – the building was being renovated, so there weren’t any tenants. And the police evacuated the workmen when they first received the threat.”
“I wonder why it wasn’t on the news, then,” she mused. “Washington is… Well, you’d think that a bomb going off in a building there - even an empty one - would at least get a mention on a nationwide news station like LNN. Maybe we should check into that, too…”
He shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know. LNN may not have had video. Or it may have just been on the news ticker.”
She hadn’t thought of that. “True… I checked LNN a couple of times after I returned to the Planet, since I didn’t know where you’d gone, but I wasn’t watching the ticker. I guess I just expected that something involving Superman would be on the actual news.”
“Maybe there was something else happening somewhere, something more important,” he suggested.
She shook her head. “But that’s just it, Clark – there wasn’t. That’s why I couldn’t figure out where you’d gone.”
She paused. “But anyway, there’s something else, Clark, isn’t there? What else about these threats points towards a setup, rather than a coincidence?” She held up her hand for a moment as he began to answer. “You know I don’t like coincidences, but I got the impression it was something very specific that cemented the idea for you.”
“Yeah,” he said rather grimly. “At the first one this morning, for instance. You were there. You know it wasn’t a false alarm - there was a real bomb. On a timer, with less than five minutes to detonation. And you know I got it out of there, up and away from the city, before it exploded…” He was rolling the pen lightly back and forth on the table with one hand.
She nodded. “But…?”
“Well, then I came back to make sure everything was okay - you know I always do that if I can…”
“Yes,” she said encouragingly, “And…?”
“Remember how I said that the security setup was unusual…?”
She nodded.
“When I first went into the building,” he continued, “I was focused on that bomb. But even then, peripherally, I thought that there were an awful lot of cameras. So when I went back in again, with the bomb squad, I made a point of really *looking* for security cameras. And there were… just too many cameras. In addition to the ones mounted in plain sight, there were others. They were hidden pretty well – without my super vision, I might have missed them.”
“Couldn’t it just be an extra layer of building security?” she asked. “I mean, sometimes, if people know the range of a security camera that’s in plain sight, then they’ll just make sure they’re out of sight of that camera… So… I don’t know - maybe some hidden cameras add extra security…”
“I thought that might be the case at first, too, although I still thought it was odd. There’s nothing about that building – at least its lobby – that really warrants that kind of security. I looked through the rest of the building, too… It’s just medical offices, accountants – stuff like that. So I decided that you and I needed to talk to the building’s owner and find out about the security – have it explained to us. I figured the owner could tell us why there’s such an elaborate setup.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” she agreed. “So then, in Washington… Did that building have the same kind of overkill setup?”
He snorted. “Overkill setup. That’s exactly what it was, Lois. Too much security for the building’s needs.”
“Maybe the building owner’s just some chump that some overzealous security equipment salesman took advantage of,” she said facetiously. “And maybe the same guy owns the building in Washington.” She paused for a moment, then added with a smirk, “Of course, then we still have to investigate why two of his buildings had bombs planted in them…”
He rolled his eyes, grinning. “Talk about overkill.”
She laughed. “Okay, yeah, that is pretty farfetched. And we can check out the ownership thing easily. But I’m playing devil’s advocate here, Clark.”
“I know, Lois.” He stopped rolling the pen and took her hand for a moment, squeezing gently. “And believe me, I’ve been over it and over it in the last couple of hours, trying to come up with logical explanations for the similarity of the incidents. The one in Washington was another real bomb, but this time it exploded when I entered the lobby. The whole thing was the same sort of setup, Lois – the lobby of a public building, a threat called in anonymously, and everyone was safely evacuated from the building. The first big difference is that the bomb went off when I entered the building.”
“And there were too many cameras there, too?”
“Yes – I think so. And this time… I looked *very* carefully. It was harder to piece together because this time there was quite a bit of damage to the building, but there seemed to be a lot of extra cameras there, too. And even with the damage, I could tell that some of the cameras had been hidden. And the hidden ones were different – a different brand than the ones mounted in plain sight.”
He sighed. “So after I wrapped up stuff in Washington, I went back to this morning’s site and I looked again. Those cameras… the ones that seemed to be extras – they were placed to view the area where the bomb was. Only that area. So I looked very, very closely…” He tapped the temple of his glasses. “Those cameras were wired into the building’s phone lines. And I think now that they might have been transmitting video. During the bomb removal.”
“Why? And to whom?”
He sighed again. “I don’t know. But I think…” He lowered his voice, although they were alone in the conference room. “I think someone is… testing Superman.”
She leaned forward, worried but intrigued. “You said that before - *testing* you. Why?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “And part of me still wonders if I’m just being paranoid. But… there’ve been an awful lot of emergencies - the airplane, the window washers, the different bomb threats – that appear to be… manufactured.”
He’d gone back to fiddling with the pen again, flexing it between the thumb and fingers of one hand. She reached out and gently took it from him before he snapped the barrel and ended up with an inky mess on his hands – literally. He looked up at her again.
“And… I think these last two muggings were part of this thing, too. Well, maybe yesterday’s – I’m not as sure about that one. But especially today’s. It was… just weird, Lois.”
“How?”
“Well, yesterday – remember how *bold* the whole thing was?” When she nodded, he continued, “The mugger didn’t seem particularly concerned about being caught, and the victim took off. I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, though, because that’s when I heard the window washers yelling for help. I wrapped the mugger up in a signpost –“ He stopped when Lois laughed.
“I’m sorry, Clark,” she said immediately. She reached out and rested her hand on his; he turned it over and meshed his fingers with hers. “It’s just… do you remember our talking about that the other day? I know you already told me all this yesterday, but it’s still kind of funny to picture you actually securing somebody to a – what was it, again? A tree? No – a lamppost, right?”
He gave her a small grin, nodding. She laughed again. “…With a stop sign or something. It just seems more like something I would do.”
“It was a No Parking sign, actually.” He smiled at her; although he was obviously still worried, it was a brief but genuine smile. “And where do you think I got the idea, Ms. Lane?”
She laughed again, then sobered and squeezed his hand gently. “So… What was weird about today’s mugging?”
He frowned and ran his free hand through his hair. “Both times, the muggers shot at me. That happens; I catch the bullets, catch the guy, and that’s that. But this time…” He trailed off, staring blankly at the wall, shaking his head.
He couldn’t be implying he’d been hurt. It had to be something else, but – “What, Clark? This time, what?” She shook the hand she held a little.
He focused on her again. “Yesterday, it was just – you know, a gun. The guy shot at me, point blank in the head and chest. Five times. I caught the bullets, of course. The mugger acted almost… I don’t know – just not very amazed that the bullets weren’t hurting me. And not at all concerned that he’d been apprehended. And the victim took off running. That’s why I think it might have been another test – maybe whoever this is wanted to verify that bullets can’t hurt me.”
“And today…?”
“Like yesterday, the mugger shot at me. And like yesterday, the victim took off as soon as I stopped the guy. But the really, *really* weird thing? Was the bullets… They were… unusual.”
“*How*, Clark?” she asked impatiently.
“One was… a silver bullet.”
She gaped at him for a moment. “Okay… That’s just weird. Real silver? Like… vampire legends silver?”
“Yeah. And one was an uncut diamond. Well, mostly uncut. Cut enough to fit down the barrel of a gun.”
“So do you think the mugger’s just some kook? Have we maybe got some sort of serial-mugger lunatic out there?”
He ran his hand through his hair again. “It could be…” he said slowly. “Except that one of the bullets… The fired bullet was an unusual shape, so I took it to Bill Henderson. He said it’s a… It used to be called a Black Talon, and it’s designed to do maximum damage. It’s considered to be so dangerous that it’s marketed only to law enforcement. It’s called something else now, but the bottom line is it’s designed to incapacitate someone fast.”
“Okay…” She frowned. “Clark, that almost sounds like someone is trying to find something that will hurt Superman. What were the other two bullets made out of?”
“They were as strange as the first two. One was some kind of metal – I don’t know what it was and neither did Bill Henderson. The other was some kind of metallic rock. It crumbled when I put enough pressure on it. I don’t know what it was, either.”
“Do you think we could find a lab or something that can tell us what those last two are?” she asked. “Maybe it would give us some clues as to where they came from.”
“Bill Henderson probably knows someone,” Clark said. “I left them with him. But even if they figure out what those last two are, the materials may not be particularly rare or valuable.”
She sighed. “True. And even knowing the source doesn’t necessarily lead us to a specific person, I guess. Still, we should be as thorough as possible.”
“Definitely. But what do you think, Lois? Do I sound paranoid?”
She looked at him seriously. “No, Clark. I think you’re right – something is going on. There’s definitely something up with the bombs and bomb threats, I think. And yesterday’s mugging might have been intended not so much as a test to see what happens when you’re shot at, but more as a… distraction...” She trailed off, thinking.
“Especially if… If the window washers thing was partly a test to see how fast you are. You know -“ she continued, warming to her theme, “have Superman involved in stopping a mugging, and right in the middle of it, clear across town, you have a dire emergency that requires immediate intervention to save lives…”
She looked up to see him staring at her in amazement. “What?”
He shook his head. “I never thought of that. I was focusing more on the shooting. But yes, I had to stop what I was doing and head toward those yells at top speed, Lois, and you know I only just caught that platform in time.”
Frowning, she continued, “But that would mean that whoever this is has no concern for who might get hurt during these… ‘tests’...” She looked over at him again. “You’re pretty sure the window washers thing was a setup, too? So the guys you saved – do you think they’re in on it?”
She sat up straighter as something occurred to her. “Wait a minute. Clark, you said their safety harnesses were attached to one of the support cables, not to the anchor point on the roof. Why would they have done that, unless…”
But Clark was shaking his head. “No, Lois. The platform was already set up; that was their second day window-washing at the Baxter Building. Maybe they should have checked, but they assumed everything was the way they’d left it. They just climbed in, put on the harnesses, and deployed the platform.”
“Oh.” She slumped against the back of the chair. She didn’t necessarily *want* the window washers to be the guilty parties, but for a moment, there, she’d thought she was on to something.
“So do I think it was a setup?” he repeated. “Yes. Those cables were partially cut. But no, I don’t think the window washers are in on this at all.”
He shook his head again, and she could see how worried he was. “That’s the scary thing, Lois – I’d swear, based on their reactions, that they aren’t – weren’t - in on this plot. Scheme. Whatever it is. I think those guys were innocent bystanders. And if it turns out that the airplane was, in fact, part of this… Then yes, whoever is doing this is apparently willing to deliberately put people in danger.”
“Yeah. And then… today’s mugging sounds more like another outright test – because of the strange bullets. Whoever this is has already learned how fast you are…” She broke off again, thinking.
Clark didn’t interrupt her; he just sat watching her, waiting.
“And those bombs – well, they’ve learned that bombs don’t hurt you, so…” She sat up straight. “And from what you say, whoever they are might have video to prove it!” She frowned darkly. “I don’t like the way this is looking at all, Clark. I think today’s mugging was definitely a test to see if anything *else* can hurt you.” She looked up at him, worried. “So what’s next?”
He shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know, Lois. That’s why we need to figure out what’s going on – who’s doing this – as soon as possible.”
“That airplane is definitely looking like an awfully suspicious coincidence, isn’t it?” A sudden thought occurred to her. “What about that fire, Clark? You don’t think that was a setup, too, do you?”
He shook his head. “No. I really think that was just as it seemed – an accident. I think this thing started with that airplane.”
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To be continued
