Long authours note/explination of absence: A funny thing happened to me a few months back. I was hanging out at my friend's apartment after class, like an idiot (and i do acknoledge my idoicy) I left my computer bag on the front seat of my car. I was not in one of the best neighberhoods in the Austin area and suffice to say my computer now belongs to someone else.
As a student i have access to the library computers, and occasionally i can use the one at my parents house, but i realised that i had to purchase a new computer soon. So i got another job and managed to save enough dough to buy this shiny new gateway i'm typing away on right now
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On the plus side the theif/theives didn't much care for my taste in music so my CD's are OK.
Disclaimer: I don't own Superman or Lois and Clark, nor do I own Remington Steele. All recognizable charachters property of some guys in suits. The situations and original charachters within, however belong to me.
Disclaimer 2: The letter at the end of this chapter in no way reflects the feelings of the author, the ideas expressed within are the fictional thoughts of a fictional mad man.
“We appreciate you taking the time to see us Ms. Holt.”
“Steele. My professional name is Holt, but I prefer Steele.” Laura self-consciously smoothed the lines from her skirt. Sitting up all night with he husband may be good for her peace of mind, but it played havoc on her appearance.
“Mrs. Steele” Lois corrected “my partner and I are sorry for what happened to you and your husband. Metropolis is no Mayberry, but our crime has been on the decline in the past year.”
“It’s just one of those random things Ms. Lane. All I can do is hope for a speedy recovery.”
“I hate to be blunt” Lois said, scowling as Clark cleared his throat “but we need to discuss something very important with you.”
“Superman, told me that you and your husband are in town working a case” Clark began, feeling only a slight twinge of guilt by mentioning his alter ego “what exactly was the nature of your investigation?”
Laura, eyed the two reporters warily “I’m not at liberty to discuss all the specifics Mr. Kent, but I will tell you it’s a matter of national security.”
Lois perked up immediately “Would this have anything to do with Felix Burmeister or a terrorist group known as The Hammer of Thor?”
“Ms. Lane, I’m sure you’re aware that I can’t discuss my clients or there cases without issue of a court order—“
“We have reason to believe you’ve been misinformed by your clients.” Clark said cutting Laura’s reprimand short.
“We do?” Lois asked, slightly confused by her partner’s outburst.
“Yes we do. Mrs. Steele I’d like you to take a look at a picture for me tell me if you recognize the woman in it.” From his briefcase Clark extracted a glossy eight by ten color photo. He extended it to Laura awaiting her verdict.
Laura glanced at the photograph tentatively, her breath caught in her throat at what she saw. Mrs. Cox, the immaculately dressed government agent smiling snidely at the camera, as the Metropolis P. D snapped her mug shot. “I don’t understand…” Laura said her voice catching in her throat.
“Do you recognize the woman in the picture?”
“Yes” she squeaked.
At Lois’s questioning stare Clark continued “Her name is Margaret Greer, or at least it was when this picture was taken. She was arrested in the early eighty’s for suspicion of armed robbery but the charges were never brought before a judge. She was married to a stage actor named Jay Hugh Cox briefly. He was poisoned supposedly by the jealous husband of his mistress.”
“She’s a thief?”
Laura replied, stunned by the revelation. Of course she couldn’t help but be slightly amused by the irony, a thief hiring an ex-thief to steal already stolen property. Her amusement, however, was quickly replaced by anger. How could she have been so blind? She was supposed to be a detective for god’s sake. She felt like the most galacticly stupid woman on the face of the earth.
“She’s a professional mercenary. She does any job for anybody, just as long as the money’s good. There are rumors circulating about her involvement with a mysterious Metropolis crime lord known as “The Boss”.”
“What reason would they have to bring us out here?” Laura asked, moving from her chair to pace around the room. Her brain kicking into investigative overdrive.
“Well Remington Steele is the most famous and well respected private detective in America, and you’re not as easily recognized on the east coast as you are in California.” Lois stirred impatiently, what was Clark playing at? They were here to expose Remington Steele as a fraud, not congratulate him on his impeccable reputation.
Clark could sense Lois’s irritation, he was pretty sure that his head would be a puddle of goop on the floor right now if his partner could emit laser beams from her eyes; nevertheless he’d decided on the way to the hospital not to reveal what they’d discovered about the Steele’s. His gut was telling him that it was some kind of plot devised by the very same people who’d brought them to Metropolis in the first place. His main concern was getting the detectives on his side. He would deal with the “Iron Fist” Of Lois Lane at a later point in time.
“Well, what do you suppose we do about all this Mr. Kent?” Laura asked, seating herself once again on the hospital’s less then comfortable chair.
“I think we need to talk to your husband. I know this hasn’t been easy for either of you, but I believe he can answer some of my questions.”
Lois, deciding she’d had enough of Clark’s one sided interview, finally spoke up “I think we both would like to speak with Mr. Steele about several things—“
“Actually I would like to speak with him alone, if that’s ok with you Lois”
“Well it’s not” Lois spat “what is your problem Kent?” she railed, unaware of her partner’s involuntary twitch at her use of his surname.
“I just think he would be more comfortable talking to me about this that’s all.”
Lois scoffed “and why pray tell is that? Is this some stupid male bonding thing or don’t you think I’m capable of handling one measly interview?”
“That’s ridiculous Lois; of course I know you can handle an interview. I just think that certain aspects of this investigation should be handled in a more amicable fashion then what you’re used to.”
“What—I---you---that’s it, outside right now” Not waiting for a response Lois grabbed the lapel of Clark’s jacket and dragged him through the automatic doors in the hospital’s foyer leaving a bemuse Laura Holt-Steele in her wake.
For a brief moment the detective was reminded of herself and Mr. Steele at the beginning of their tumultuous relationship. “If those two aren’t married within two years I’ll eat my fedora.” Shaking her head she began flipping through one of the hospital waiting room’s many outdated magazines waiting for the two reporters to return.
******
Metropolis Sewer
21:55:30
Lenny Jackson’s life was a living hell, of all the jobs he’d ever wanted as a kid sewer and pipeline repair had not been one of them. Yet, here he was knee deep in human waste on a beautiful day mending a crack in some stupid pipe, which had probably eroded from years of being covered with slime, roach eggs, and god only knew what else. To make things even worse there was a hole in one of his rubber boots, and his stocking foot was making a disgusting squishing noise with each footfall.
The only light at the end of this very dark, very rancid tunnel, in Lenny’s mind was that the new girl at the customer service center asked him out to a ball game on Saturday night. Her name was Pam, and in his humble opinion she was the most beautiful creature on god’s green earth. He was lucky that a girl that gorgeous would even look at an ugly guy like him. Not that he was Quasimodo or anything, but he was no Superman by any means. His nose was too big his feet were long and skinny and his hair never stayed flat on his head it always stuck straight up. He as pretty tall compared to most guys that was a plus, and years of playing center on his high school basketball team made him somewhat athletic looking. Of course being stooped over in a sewer he wished he wasn’t so protracted in stature.
Taking a moment, from his self flagellation, to study his map he realized he’d gone about half way to his destination. His brow shined with sweat from the humidity and his lungs begged for a rest, spotting a small enclave of steps leading toward a manhole covering he decided to sit down for a short reprieve.
He sloshed his way toward the stairs grimacing as what felt like a small bone poked its way through the hole in his boot, truly his life was hell.
At once a flicker of light caught his eye, had it not been for the scarcity of such a phenomenon in this part of the sewer’s he would have gladly passed it by in favor of rest. But he was hundreds of feet beneath the city, and the only light he’d seen for at least an hour had been the relatively dim beam of his heavy duty flashlight. Deciding, against his better judgment, to investigate Lenny veered toward the light.
He found his way to a small cavern no more than four feet high and three feet in length. A brilliant green light was emanating from within. Upon closer inspection, he noticed a clear container of some kind was the origin of the glowing substance. Inside, were three identical diamond shaped stones with a familiar “S” shaped pattern etched upon them. Each stone was connected via a series of wires to a large metallic box. The box was attached to a digital timer, and just beside it was a small envelope with two words written on the front: READ ME
Lenny knew he should run as fast as his torn boot and aching lungs could back to the surface. He knew he should bring this envelope to the authorities, but for some reason he was overcome with curiosity, and decided to open the letter instead. With trembling fingers, he freed the paper from its confines and quickly unfolded the contents:
To whom it may concern,
For too long the world has suffered at the hands of greedy, power hungry men from the west, and prideful barbaric fools from the east. The tyranny of both the United States and the Soviets has doomed this planet and its inhabitants to a fiery and swift destruction. May god have mercy on the souls of all their victims, and may the ruins of Metropolis serve as a reminder that all men, no matter how much political or economic power they may or may not have, are equal in the face of death.
This bomb, created by a power from beyond this universe, by a people who gave this planet its only true hero will serve as a great equalizer for all men. The power encased within these stones is so vast, that every human being, every animal every building, every body of water within seven-hundred miles will be seared to nothing more than ash.
This device cannot be defused even the slightest wrong touch will result in immediate detonation. If anyone (Superman included) touches this bomb for more than three-tenths of a second it will detonate. And even if Superman managed to move the device from beneath the streets to the sky in that amount of time, the shock wave has a vertical radius of three-hundred miles.
I speak to you not as a terrorist, or a monster, but as a liberator. How long will you be slaves to banks and mortgage companies? How long will you dance like contented marionettes for your masters in the government? I seek to free you from you bondage, to make you truly one with the earth again as god intended. Technology makes you apathetic, prescription medications sedate your judgment, and so-called insurance companies take money out of your pockets and food from your mouth without a care.
And this will not end with Metropolis similar devices have been wired beneath the streets of Moscow, Paris, London, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Rome, Mexico City, Ontario, Berlin, Tel Aviv, Bogota, and Morocco. They will all detonate Tuesday at precisely at 11:59 pm eastern standard time.
I have no demands, no conditions. It is what it is.
My only hope is that mankind’s survivors build a better future.
Signed
The Hammer of Thor~Dimitri Nowitski
Lenny’s mouth went dry. He was torn between vomiting the contents of his stomach into the brown waters at his feet, and screaming like a prepubescent boy. Within the space of thirty seconds he did both, and after finishing his miniature meltdown he began sprinting toward the surface the letter clutched tightly in his fist. Only one thought was pumping wildly through his mind “Oh crap!”
