Home: Vendetta -- 6/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"You wanted to see me, Lieutenant?" Clark was suddenly standing in the room, clad in the bright primary colors of the Suit.
Velma blinked. "How do you do that?" she asked. "I didn't even feel a breeze. No, never mind. I need you to do something for me."
"Okay," Clark said. "What?"
"I need you to dress up in your best work civvies, get your little recorder, and wander around in unlikely places, getting reaction from people about today's bombing, or whatever other subject strikes your fancy, that will get you out and about in improbable and sometimes open, semi-deserted places, and give our kidnappers the opportunity to grab you, too. Got it?"
For the first time since she had seen him today, Clark smiled. "Got it, Lieutenant," he said.
**********
And now, Part 6:
"Hey," Meriel said. "Look at this." She indicated a name on the list of Gaia's Children's membership.
"What?" Carla asked.
"This guy -- Aloysius Fitzgerald. He's called a Section Leader, whatever that is."
"What about him? Besides his name, that is."
"He lives in the Hob's Ocean View Estates."
"That's on the North Side, isn't it? Didn't you say the police say they think she might be being held in a bomb shelter or something, to keep the supermen from finding her?"
"Yeah." Meriel nodded vigorously. "My dad and mom have a five bedroom house in Ocean View Estates. We've got a bomb shelter, too. The family that lived there before us put it in, I think, but Dad converted it into a wine cellar."
"Really?" Carla was diverted. "Mr. Olsen has a wine cellar?"
"Yeah -- a nice one," Meriel said. "But this Fitzgerald guy lives about a mile from our house. That's scary."
"That's for sure," Carla said. "I guess you can't tell anything about people just from appearances."
"I guess not," Meriel said. She glanced at her wrist talker. "Why don't we go over there and look around?"
"Us? What could we do?"
"Well, we could see if anything looks funny. Did Lori ever tell you what she and I did when we were trying to figure out who was dealing dream dust on the NTSU campus a couple of years ago?"
"I remember reading about it," Carla said. "It was Lori that figured out who it was, wasn't it?"
"Yeah. She didn't want to mention her part but since she was the one that figured it out, *and* saved my life, they couldn't leave it out -- especially since she had to give a deposition. Anyway, a guy at NTSU was selling dream dust -- his roommate had stolen some from the 'Professor' and got some of the super dream dust by accident. Lori and I went to try to see if we could find out if he had any in his room. She picked the lock on his door. We searched the place and Lori found a bag of it under his bed. She took a sample and touched it with two fingers. Clark said she was pretty sick. That was when he realized it was more than ordinary dream dust and had it analyzed."
"Wow," Carla said. "That's really cool. You know, my ambition is to be an investigative reporter like Lori, but you actually got to work with her. Did you ever learn how to pick a lock?"
"Sure," Meriel said. "I got her to show me how. It's easier than you might think. It's a lot harder to do an electronic lock, but one of her snitches showed her how to do those, and she showed me."
"Maybe you can show me how," Carla said. "Do you really think we should go check this guy's house out?"
"I don't see why not," Meriel said. "If we just look around, we can't get into any trouble. It isn't very likely that she's there but at least we can try to eliminate it as a possibility. Uncle Clark's nearly out of his mind with worry about her."
"I can imagine. Besides," Carla said, "she could have that baby any time. It would be really bad if it happened now."
"That's for sure," Meriel said. "We know they won't take her to the hospital and, unless there just happens to be a certified midwife around, the baby could die, and Lori, too. If they even try to help her."
"Yeah." Carla bit her lip. "Okay, let's go over and just sort of stroll past for starters. Then, if it looks like anything might be wrong, we can look a little closer. Connor will probably let me have his car. I couldn't get mine out of the Planet parking garage after the bombing."
"I brought mine," Meriel told her. "You don't get claustrophobic like Uncle Clark, do you?"
**********
Clark Kent had been interviewing persons on the street for nearly three hours and so far no one had shown the slightest interest in him. The experience of nearly three normal lifetimes taught him that these things took time, and that one couldn't expect results immediately, but time was something that wasn't on Lori's side or on the side of their baby. If Lori were to go into labor as a result of this -- or just because it was time -- he had no faith that the members of Gaia's Children would know enough to help, or that they would even try.
Now and then he seemed to catch traces of her thoughts, and, more strongly, her emotions -- fear, and the desperate hope that he, Clark, would find her. Once a wash of anger from her mind caught him by surprise, but, although his tenuous connection with her told him that she was somewhere to the north, nothing was concrete enough to give him a better fix on her.
He stuffed the little recorder into his pocket and strode on down the stationary walk, covertly observing the persons around him. No one seemed to display the slightest interest in him but, of course, that could be illusory. He had to keep moving about, making himself vulnerable to a kidnap attempt. If that happened, his next moves would be determined by the circumstances.
"Mr. Kent?" The friendly voice of a woman made him turn his head. She was about twenty-five, he estimated, smiling at him hopefully.
"Yes?" he asked. "Can I help you?"
She moved toward him and with a smoothness that would have astonished him a century ago, took his arm. Something cold and hard was pushed against his ribs. "This is a stunner," she said softly. "If I fire it at this range, you don't want to know what the results will be. Come with me."
He obeyed, allowing her to guide him toward the street where a dark-colored sedan awaited.
"Get in," she said, still in that friendly voice. "Don't make a fuss."
Clark got in.
**********
Oliver Brent had been leaning forward to read the print on the computer's screen, once again over Velma's shoulder, when the sudden catch of his breath alerted her. She turned. Brent was sitting up straight, a distant look in his eyes.
"What is it?" she asked.
"They just picked up Clark," he said. "He's on Maple Street near the intersection of Harper and Maple."
"He's talking to you?"
He affirmed it with a quick nod. "They just forced him into a car."
"Yes!" she whispered. "Now we're getting somewhere!"
"They're blindfolding him," Oliver said. "The car is moving. They're headed east, and turning left on Harper headed north."
"How can he tell?" Really, Velma thought, this telepathy wasn't so odd. Brent could have been using a hidden radio and no one would have known the difference.
"X-ray vision; remember? He can see through the blindfold."
"Right." This dealing with the supermen on an equal footing was going to take some getting used to after all, she thought. The telepathic link wasn't nearly as odd as realizing that Clark Kent was using his extraordinary abilities while in the guise of an ordinary man, and probably did on a regular basis. The thought of Lori Lyons married to Superman was still something she had trouble getting her mind around. It would take a very unusual woman to be married to one of the superheroes and to handle all the things that must involve. And the emotional link with her telepathic husband would have to be something special. No wonder the two of them had always seemed so close. She wondered what such a link would be like.
Inspector Brent glanced at her. "I guess this must seem pretty strange," he said. "Dealing with something like telepathy on a concrete basis."
"Well," Velma said, "there are a few humans that seem to have it, too. That psychic who's always in the news -- what's his name?"
"Romar," the Inspector said. "Yeah, I saw him on that vid show -- 'The Amazing Romar'. Spoon-bending and so forth."
"Is he real?" Velma asked. "I figured it was all a trick."
"Your guess is as good as mine," Brent said, still with that slightly distant look on his face. "I've never bent a spoon in my life -- except when I was a kid, and used my mom's cooking spoons to dig up a 'buried treasure' in my back yard. Mom about killed me."
Velma gave a strained laugh. "Yeah. I used my mother's spoons for the same thing -- only I think we were digging a 'fort'. I lost her spoon set and we didn't find it for a couple of years, when she was digging up that section of the yard to plant her spring garden."
"They're headed down Harper," Brent told her. "Still going north. No, now they're turning and --" He paused.
"And?" Velma prompted."
"They're headed through a car wash," Brent said. "He says they're making sure no one is following them."
"That makes sense," Velma said. "Keep me informed. So," she continued, "none of the telepaths in your family bend spoons."
"Not to my knowledge," Brent said. "I don't think it ever occurred to any of us to try. I'm sure the four of us did enough damage without a talent like that. At least Mom never had problems with the four of us losing her cooking utensils in the yard."
"Why not?"
"She always found them without any trouble," he said with a faint smile. "My mother is one of the supermen. So are all three of my sisters. I was the only one in my family besides my father who didn't have super powers."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It gave me quite an inferiority complex for a while. I guess that's why I wanted to be a cop."
Somehow, Velma couldn't imagine this quiet, self-assured man as having an inferiority complex. Her expression must have shown her disbelief, because he shook his head. "I got over it after a while," he said. "I'm not the only one in the family without super powers by a long shot. It's interesting, though, that most of us who are ordinary humans tend to try to stand out in other ways. There's probably some deep psychological meaning there, if anyone bothered to look for it."
"Probably," Velma said. "What's happening now?"
"They're leaving the car wash," Brent said. "Turning onto Sycamore ... He says they're driving up into a big truck. It's a rental. License number YMP4456U. It's an airtruck. Clark says it's soundproof, and lined with lead. He can't see out of it. This may be how they managed to hide Lori so Clark couldn't tell where they were taking her."
Velma spoke into her wrist talker. "Vern! I want a trace on a license number." She repeated the number and signed off. "I'm trying to keep this part of the operation limited to a very few people that I know I can trust," she told Brent. "The last thing we need is for them to realize we know Gaia's Children have Lori."
He nodded. "The less we put them on their guard, the better. I hope it won't be necessary, but it's just as well to be careful." He smiled at her. "Since you've been inducted into the secrets of our family, why don't you call me Oliver? All my friends do."
"All right. My name is Velma. I know," she added, "it's not a bit Chinese, but my mother was only half. Her family name was Murphy, believe it or not."
"You look more like a Chow than a Murphy," Oliver said. "Clark says they're in the air. He thinks they're headed north, but he's not sure."
Her wrist talker beeped. Vern's voice emerged from the unit. "We have the truck's signal, Lieutenant."
"Good. Track it, but don't do anything else. Let me know when it stops."
"Will do. It was rented by a Frederick Harkin, a week ago, from Speedy Truck Rental."
"Great. Now, if we can only find Fred Harkin," Velma said. "Thanks, Vern. Keep on it."
She turned back to Oliver. "What's happening?"
"Nothing. They took off the blindfold. He says he doesn't recognize either of the people in the car with him. No, now he says the truck is dropping. They may be landing." He was silent for several minutes, a slight frown on his features. Velma waited, holding her breath, but she couldn't help notice the fact that frowning didn't seem to detract from Oliver's looks. His brows were heavy, like Clark's, and when he frowned it was the kind of frown that gave him an intense appearance, and combined with the set of his square jaw would have made any teenage girl's heart do flip-flops. Of course *her* heart wasn't doing flip-flops. She was simply tense because of the importance of what was happening. If things went right, they might have Lori Lyons safe and this case sewn up in the next few minutes.
"They're making him get out of the car, and walk down the ramp. He's in a garage," Oliver reported.
Velma's wrist talker beeped softly. "Lieutenant," Vern's voice said, "the signal just disappeared."
"Where was it the last time you picked it up?" Velma asked.
"In the Hob's Ocean View Estates," Vern said. "Location was 4671 Seascape Drive."
"Thanks," Velma said.
Oliver was already scrolling the print on the computer screen. "There it is," he said. "That's the address of Daniel Carruthers. It says here he's a Science Consultant at Gaia."
Velma told the computer to cross-reference the name and address. "He's an employee in R and D at Preisman Pharmaceuticals, here in Metropolis," she said a moment later.
"Well, I guess that could make him a 'science consultant', if you stretch it a little," Oliver said. "Clark says he's being escorted through a kitchen and down a flight of steps. It's a bomb shelter, all right...." He frowned more deeply. "Clark says there's no one else there."
"Lori's not there?"
"No. Wait. He's talking to them." A long silence ensued. Oliver said something under his breath.
"What?"
"They're to be held separately until their trial. Apparently the people here don't even know where Lori is being held. If one of them is rescued, they don't want the police to be able to find the other."
Velma also swore under her breath. "Ask him what he wants to do next."
"He says to stay away. The last thing he wants to do is endanger Lori. At the very least, they'll be brought together at the so-called trial."
"But if she goes into labor first --"
"I know. *Now* what do we do?"
**********
tbc
