Special thanks - as always - to the fabulous betas Alisha, Beth, Nancy, CarolynK. Thanks also to those who helped reassure me that airplane cargo holds are indeed pressurized.
Bonus points to those who guessed that the girlfriend is Mindy.
I'm posting now because I realized where 21 ends and couldn't wait to post
. And I'll have to post Saturday morning anyway because of the way the day works for me...
Of course, I need to get some writing done. I've written like 500 words this week but I did get like 2.5 minutes of vidding done. I think I'm not going to let myself do anymore until I at least get the next chapter done.
But it's *so* much fun! /whine
Last time:
Lois
He let go of me and rested his head against the wall behind him. "Somehow, I don't envision Lois Lane waiting for anything to happen to her. I think she makes things happen."
"Well, it would be nice if I had a clue what was going on. I saw that logo on some paperwork at home, but I have no idea what it was." I pointed at the snake coiled on the side of one of the crates.
"I think that may be a good thing."
I sighed. "At least we know what's inside and we can try to be prepared."
"As long as they don't use them on us."
"Right."
Because they could.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I'd seen when Clark got that lid off.
Guns.
Lots and lots of guns.
*~*20*~*
January 2004
~~~~~
Clark
~~~~~
Lois was starting to shiver a bit.
I wondered if I could shoot a blast of heat vision at her without her noticing.
Deciding it probably wasn't worth the risk just yet, I pulled my jacket off and warmed up the inside with a bit of the lasers or whatever it was that shot out of my eyes and tucked it around her.
"Won't you be cold?" she asked me.
I shook my head. "I'm a bit warm actually. Must be the adrenaline."
"Thanks."
I lowered my glasses and looked through the floor of the plane and zoomed in on the ground below. It wasn't as far a zoom as it might have been. We were over mountains. The Alps? I guessed so. No other mountain ranges came to mind in Europe.
We didn't say much for a long time.
"Any ideas?" she asked.
I shook my head. I knew I could get us out easily and probably unseen if I was willing to risk what I knew about myself. I knew I could trust Lois, or thought I could. I was still worried about what Lana was going to say when I told her. I guessed that if I managed to get Lois out of a potentially life or death situation, it would go a long way towards making her feel friendly towards me.
If it came down to it, Lois and I would just disappear. Literally. There one second and gone the next and the people watching would never know what had happened.
Or something.
If I could make myself go through with it and hope that we didn't leave behind any evidence that would lead to us.
Her head rested on my shoulder and, unbelievably she dozed off.
I sighed and used my vision again to see how far away I could see and see if I could recognize any landmarks or anything. There was water nearby and I thought maybe it was part of the Mediterranean, but I had no idea. I looked around some more and realized that there was no rising or setting sun to help me figure out which way we were headed or anything like that.
The North Star.
I'd never tried to find it while looking through a plane and from a different hemisphere.
No luck.
Was it really a different hemisphere or just a different angle? I sighed. It didn't matter.
I turned my hearing back on and heard something about Latislan. I hoped we weren't headed there. They were in the middle of some kind of conflict with... Gadansk, I thought.
It would explain the guns though.
I wracked my brain to remember what I could about the small country in south-eastern Europe. Run by a military dictatorship. Not a pleasant place to be. And probably not a good place to let someone get their hands on Lois. I wasn't too worried about myself, but for her...
An indeterminate amount of time later, we finally started to descend.
~~~~~
Lois
~~~~~
The wheels touched the tarmac of some foreign country. I was sure I looked frightened. I felt it. We were in some other country and I knew I didn't have anything but my driver's license on me, certainly not my passport. I didn't know if Clark had his or not.
Of course, gun runners probably wouldn't care that we were American citizens or that we wanted to contact our embassy.
It was my fault we were in this mess, maybe I could distract whoever I needed to to let Clark get away safely.
He grasped my hand lightly and whispered in my ear as the sound of the engines began to slow down as we taxied somewhere. "We'll figure something out but don't do anything stupid."
"Do you at least have your passport with you?"
He nodded. "You don't, do you?"
I shook my head. "Here." I slipped my license in his hand. "You keep it."
"Why?"
"I don't know. My gut feeling says I shouldn't have it on me. They may be able to connect me to my dad's girlfriend."
"Right."
We unbuckled our seatbelts and hid as far forward in the plane as we could.
My stomach flu decided to pick that moment to come back with a vengeance. I managed to keep from actually throwing up, but I wasn't sure how long I was going to be successful.
I handed him my cell phone. "I don't think I should have that either," I whispered as the rear loading ramp began to lower.
He nodded and stuck it in his pocket.
"If you can find a way to do it without letting anyone see you, call my dad and tell him where we are." I paused. "Do you know where we are?"
"I think we're in Latislan," he said with a grimace. "I heard someone say something really loud while you were sleeping."
I nodded. We'd heard murmurs and a few words here and there but I hadn't been able to figure any of it out.
"Do you think we can send him a text message?" he asked.
"I don't think he knows how to check them."
Latislan. That explained the guns, but it wasn't good.
The pallets were being off-loaded one by one.
I whispered to him. "If you can, the phone book on there has Dad's cell Europe on it. That'll dial him from here. Country codes and all that. Call him over and over until he answers."
He nodded. "Can we find a way upstairs now?"
"Maybe they'll only unload half or something."
My stomach was roiling. I was going to throw up. I wasn't going to be able to stop it next time. I knew that.
I had to do something. I couldn't let them find Clark when I started puking my guts out again. He had to be able to get a hold of my dad or someone.
He was squatting precariously, his backpack straps in his thumbs.
I took a deep breath and whispered, "I'm sorry," before I shoved him.
He made a loud clattering sound when he landed and I didn't take the time to register the look of shock on his face before I started making my way towards the rear of the plane.
"Help me!" I yelled.
The two men who had jumped on the plane when they heard the noise grabbed my arms and I was sure they were immediately sorry, when the little I'd had to eat that day decided it was a good time to come back up.
~~~~~
Clark
~~~~~
I cursed under my breath.
What the hell was she doing?
She threw up on the two men holding her arms. She must have still been sick and was afraid she'd give both of us away if she threw up back here.
She was crying that she wanted to call her dad.
Call her dad.
I dug the phone out of my pocket and tried to figure it out.
I found the phone book and then the listing she'd given me.
"Hello?" came the voice on the other end of the line. "Princess?"
"Sam, it's Clark," I whispered.
"Clark? What's wrong?"
"I can't explain now, but we're in trouble."
"Aren't you in Paris?"
"We were, but it's a long story I can't get into. We're in Latislan." A scan of the area had confirmed that.
"What?!"
"Lois doesn't have her passport and left her ID and phone with me when she made a break for it." Or something like that. "Can you get a hold of the embassy and get them down here or something? We're at the main airport in Skopje."
"Is she okay?"
"A couple of guys have got her right now. I'm going to do whatever I can, but I wanted to call you first and have you start working on things there. See if you can get a hold of someone to get down here."
"I will." He paused for a second. "Take care of my little girl, Clark."
"I will, sir."
"Be careful." He clicked off.
Hopefully, he had enough connections that he could get the ball rolling or something.
I made sure the phone was on vibrate and stuck it back in my pocket.
I looked through the crate to see where they had taken Lois. They were half-dragging her towards the hanger nearby. I looked around and no one else was close. I took the chance and snuck out of the plane and zipped to a hiding spot near the hanger, using a plane landing to help cover my wind gust.
They sat her in a chair in an office and were arguing over what to do with her, I guessed.
She threw up again and one of them stuck a trash can in front of her.
When she was done, she started talking again immediately, telling them again that she was an American and she wanted to talk to her embassy or her dad or the president or just about anyone else.
The phone in my pocket vibrated slightly about ten minutes later. Not much had changed, though I wasn't sure Lois had actually taken a breath except for the two times she threw up again.
Looking around to make sure I was alone, I pulled it out of my pocket. A text message from Sam.
He didn't go into details but said that help was on the way in the form of a member of the ambassador's staff but it would probably be thirty minutes before anyone got to us.
I sent a message back that we were both still okay for the time being, but that I was still hiding and watching.
I hated text speak or whatever, but found myself using abbreviations I'd sworn I'd never use and some I doubted even existed, but hoped Sam would understand what I was trying to say.
Ten minutes after that, car lights caught my attention. It was too fast to be the embassy personnel. I zoomed in and confirmed that. I wasn't sure who it was, but he didn't look happy.
They'd tied Lois to the chair, but it wasn't the best job and she didn't look like she was in pain.
She was looking around, probably wondering where I was and hoping I was okay.
There was shouting from the tarmac and one of the men scampered out of the office and headed towards the yelling man.
There was more yelling and it sounded like he was 'yes, sir'-ing a lot in whatever language it was.
One of the men in a military uniform came into the office and untied Lois. I breathed a quick sigh of relief until he grabbed her arm and forced her out of the chair and towards the angry... general it looked like.
He better not hurt her. I seriously thought about just grabbing her and taking off, literally, but that guy had a tight grip on her arm and I didn't want to take him with us or hurt her, so I waited.
~~~~~
Lois
~~~~~
I didn't want them to think I was nearly as scared as I was.
"I want to talk to my embassy! I'm an American!" I shouted over and over as the new bully dragged me out of the hanger office.
I didn't know where Clark was, but I hoped he'd gotten a hold of my dad and that help was on the way.
"I want to talk to the ambassador! No! I want to talk to the president! I'm an American!"
"Shut up!" The man practically spat at me in heavily accented English.
"Will you let me call the embassy?"
"No."
"Then I won't shut up! I want to talk to my embassy. You can't hold me like this."
He leered at me, looking me up and down and practically undressing me with his eyes. It made me very uncomfortable and I almost prayed that I'd throw up all over him.
"Shut up!"
One of the men I'd thrown up on said something to him that I didn't understand.
"You've thrown up on my men, have you?"
"I'll throw up on you," I threatened.
"Are you sick?"
"Why?" He obviously didn't care about my welfare.
"You must have brought a vicious disease into my country. I'll have to have you quarantined until it can be figured out. I think three months should be sufficient."
He ran a finger down the side of my face, but I didn't flinch no matter how badly I wanted to.
And then I got my wish.
I threw up all over him.
I was sure his smell didn't help because he smelled like spoiled beets. It was his own fault.
He looked like he wanted to hit me but he didn't dare. If I was an American and I managed to get out, it wouldn’t look good.
Of course, if he managed to get me quarantined, that wouldn’t help much either.
Inspiration struck.
"I'm not sick," I told him, wiping my mouth on my sleeve. Well, Clark's sleeve. I apologized mentally for ruining his jacket.
"Then why are you throwing up all over my country?"
"I'm pregnant. You wouldn't want to treat a pregnant American woman poorly would you?"
It was all bluff and bluster, but it had to work.
A sinister grin spread across his face. I didn't understand why that would please him.
"There is no record of you entering our fair country," he reminded me.
"So?"
"You have been here for several weeks now, have you not?"
"I have not."
"Ah, I think you have. And while you were here, you..." His face took on that leer again. "You made yourself available to me, no?"
"No." It was nearly a whisper.
"You carry my child and in Latislan, that means I have full custody of the child unless I relinquish that custody. You will not be allowed to leave until the child is born and I can retain physical custody."
I was sure the blood had drained from my face. "There is proof that I entered Paris yesterday," I pointed out.
He shook his head. "It wasn't you. It was a friend of yours who looks much like you." He leaned in until he could whisper in my ear. "You could always marry me so our child will not be a bastard."
"Never," I hissed.
I heard cars approaching and saw headlights. They screeched to a stop nearby. Someone got out and called out, "General Navance! That young lady is an American citizen."
He didn't move as he yelled back. "She is carrying my child. She will remain in my custody until I can take physical custody of the child."
"Go to hell," I whispered between clenched teeth as I brought my knee up sharply, connecting with his most sensitive parts.
Hands grabbed me from behind before everything went blessedly dark.
*****
TBC
A/N: For the purpose of this story, Latislan is located where Macedonia is in our world. This in no way reflects my feelings for the Macedonians. No Latislani should be taken to resemble any Macedonian, living or dead.
