Nighttime in the Daytime, 19/21
By Artemis (jumpstick@eathlink.net)
June, 2011
Quick Summary of the story to date: Clark became Superman to defeat the Nightfall Asteroid and succeeded. Because of the memory loss at his first attempt at sending Nightfall on his way he was fired from the FBI. But Perry gave him an actual job at the Daily Planet. He had to prove himself by bringing in real stories solo, which he handily did. He also conveniently got a lot of Superman stories. Perry sent them back to Smallville to follow up on tips regarding the digging up of the Ross Farm next to Clark’s old Farm.
Rita gave a necklace and earring set to Lois. Unfortunately for Clark, the stones were “green quartz” from Kansas. There is a lot of quartz in Kansas, but some meteorite rocks from Krypton got mixed into this group of quartz. When Lois put on the necklace, Clark lost his powers.
Clark’s foster brother Pete Ross was taken from his home in Baldwin Kansas near the University of Kansas (KU) by Bureau 39 and Lois and Clark are searching for him. The job is made harder by the fact that Clark is now “normal” and not super.
Also in a previous chapter, Clark took his spaceship from the Bureau 39 warehouse on Bessolo Boulevard in Metropolis and now has it safely hidden in a subterranean room under the barn at his farm. Lois has seen it and it reacted to her. Seeing that, Clark knows Lois is the woman for him and that night they declared their love for each other.
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Previously in Chapter 18
Sherman relaxed a bit at Lois’ less confrontational attitude and handed her the formal press release. “Here you go.”
“Thank you. To quote a famous actor, ‘I’ll be back.’”
“That’s up to you. But the facts and the story won’t change.”
‘I’ll just bet they won’t,’ Lois thought as she climbed back into the truck and spun dirt out of the driveway.
Halfway back to the Kent farm she saw Clark leaning against the fence beside the road with his thumb out like a random hitchhiker.
Lois stopped with a squeal of tires and Clark walked over and opened the passenger door. “What are you doing out here?” she accused.
Placidly, Clark climbed into the seat, turned to her and shrugged. “I went over to see what was happening at the Ross’ – the conventional way. Actually I have a short cut behind the barn that I used as a kid.”
Lois stared at him in incredulity. “Are you crazy! If that field is full of green rock you’ll get worse!”
“That’s just it, Lois. I didn’t feel anything. There’s no green rock there. They are digging up that farm for nothing!
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Chapter 19. Between a Green Rock and a Hard Place.
“Lois, turn around. We’re going to go into Smallville.”
“Why is that?”
“Because nothing is a secret in a small midwestern town.
Lois just stared at him, and then nodded. But before she turned back to drive, she openly admired Clark in his new outfit. He was wearing tight worn jeans, a white T-shirt, open flannel shirt and an open worn brown corduroy jacket with leather collar and cuffs. On his large feet were worn farm work boots. “All country and no rock and roll here in Smallville. Is that it?”
Noticing her attention to him, he returned the favor by admiring her. “Well, you look pretty city there and no cowgirl.” Nodding to her hand on the stick shift, he asked, “So when did you learn to drive four-on-the-floor?”
Not replying right away, Lois put the ancient truck into first, then released the clutch smoothly and began her turn to go back down the road. “Well, I probably could say something like I used to go out on the farms in New Troy and pick green beans in the summer, but I won’t.”
Straightening out on her new path, she turned and smiled at him. “I took lessons on driving anything with four rubber tires and gears, fast, slow, or furious. I was doing a piece on the Indy 500 and I wanted to feel the real. So I took lessons. Came in handy in Metropolis’ traffic.”
“You are something, Lois Lane, you are definitely something.”
“Then we fit pretty well together, pretty boy.”
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Lois’ first impression of Smallville was that of a typical Midwestern farm town with a central plaza in front of the century and a half old City Hall. The outskirts, if you could call them that, were highlighted by the newer institutions such as a 1950’s Dairy Freeze and burger joint combined. The tractor and feed stores in barn like structures were here too. As they got to the center of town, actual sidewalks and curbs appeared instead of the dirt shoulders of the road further out. There was even a grass strip between the curb and the sidewalk and houses had a front lawn divided by a concrete sidewalk to the front door, with at least one tree in the larger portion of the front lawn. Most of the houses in town were two-story white clapboard with large front porches, built long before air conditioning. A few were dilapidated, but most were neat as a pin. In their way, they were charming.
Clark told her to stop in front of a railroad car diner with a sign that read “Maisie’s Diner.” The re-purposed car just fronted the larger single story building behind it. The parking lot on the side was full and cars were parked along the curb.
“There’s no parking here, Lois. Stop the truck and get out and I’ll drive over to a parking spot I know.”
“You’re sure you are O.K. to do that?”
“Yeah, I think the walk will do me good.”
Lois slid the transmission into neutral, and then got out and Clark slid over on the bench seat, pulled out after carefully looking for traffic on the totally empty road and drove on down the street, turning into an alley.
Lois walked into the diner to find them a booth or table. The place was full. Suddenly she noticed the silence caused by her arrival. She walked up to the counter and saw the beyond middle-aged blond lady there at the cash register wearing a peach colored starched apron and an old-fashioned waitress matching cap. “Table for two, please?”, she asked politely.
The lady just stared back at her. “We’re full today, Miss. New to town?”
Lois was piqued. The place was busy, but there clearly were some empty tables in the middle. But it seemed there was no room in the inn.
The bell on the door jingled again and Lois felt Clark walk up behind her. “Hi Maisie. Busy day today, I see.”
The dour expression left the blond lady’s face and she broke into a large grin. “Clark! You’re back! Of course I have a table for you.”
Nodding in a friendly manner, Clark said, “And this is Lois. She’s my work partner from Metropolis.”
Nonplussed, Maisie exclaimed, “Oh, you’re together!”
A satisfied Lois replied with an icy smile, “That we are, indeed, together.” It was clear one had to be a local to get service here.
Clark politely pulled Lois’ chair out for her as they sat at the table. Lois saw Clark smile and wave at the people now smiling at him. And she noticed they were including her in the smile, so she smiled and waved back now that her bonifides were confirmed by Clark’s presence. She muttered into her menu, “Now they’re warm and friendly. I bet Miz Sherman doesn’t get to eat here.”
“I heard that,” Clark muttered back as he quickly scanned the menu and put it down.
“Oh, pastrami! They have pastrami! With dill pickle! Civilization at last!” Lois exclaimed just a little more loudly and put her menu down.
Walking up to their table with two of the hugest mugs Lois had ever seen, Maisie asked, “Coffee?” as she put them down by the silverware wrapped in a paper napkin.
Clark smiled at her, “Of course, Maisie. Is it still as good as it’s always been?”
“Fresh ground from the bean right here, as always.”
Lois looked at Clark, “What no tea?”
“Not when there’s Maisie’s coffee to be had.”
Maisie set the cups she had by the handles in one hand down in front of them with practiced smoothness, then lifted up the large carafe and poured a cup for each of them before setting the carafe on the table for refills. Turning to Lois first, she asked in a now friendly manner, “What’ll you have, hon?”
“I’ll have the pastrami sandwich with dill pickles, please,” she said as she handed the menu back to her.
“Coleslaw or potato salad?"
“Go for the slaw, Lois,” Clark advised. “Maisie makes it herself.”
“Slaw it is,” Lois smiled and handed the menu to Maisie who tucked it under her order pad.
Maisie turned to Clark. “And for you, Clark?”
“The usual.”
“Gotcha. Be right out.” She turned and left, leaving Lois and Clark alone.
“The usual?”
“Cheeseburger. The best in the Midwest. With onion rings and fries.”
Lois whispered again, “Feeling better, are we?”
Clark just grinned then said, “Watch out for the pastrami. We might have to carry half home for dinner.”
“Please. I’ve eaten New York pastrami sandwiches. I can handle it.”
Just then, two men finished their lunch and got up to pay the bill and paused by Clark on the way out.
“Hey, Clark. Back to the farm for a bit now, eh?”
“Hi, Larry. Yeah, just got into town.” Clark was almost as tall sitting as the standing man. He lowered his voice and looked over at the man. “So what’s happening at the Ross’ farm? You know anything?”
“See you over at the bandstand.” He gave Clark’s shoulder a brief pat and then moved over to the cashier station. The second man followed with a brief, “Good to see you in town again.”
Lois whispered again, “Who was that?”
“Larry Johnson and Henry Ford. High school buddies of mine.” Clark saw her raised eyebrow. “Yes, Henry Ford. The Ford’s are a big family around here. And no, they are not rich and don’t have stock in the company.”
“Any plans for this afternoon, Clark?” Lois asked.
“Well … let's just say my plans changed suddenly. But we’ll think of something.”
Just then the food arrived. Lois’ eyes widened at the height of her pastrami sandwich. She wasn’t sure she could fit it in her mouth. A large bowl of coleslaw followed it along with a very large dill pickle cut lengthwise in quarters.
Then she saw Clark’s cheeseburger. It had to be 3 patties tall, dripping with cheese, onions and tomatoes and occupied its own plate. Green lettuce peeked out the side. A separate plate of onion rings and fries Maisie placed on the side.
Lois marveled the woman could carry all the plates. Lots of practice, she assumed. Here in the breadbasket of the country they ate well.
Following lunch, Clark carried the styrofoam box with half of Lois’ sandwich out of the restaurant without comment.
Lois was shaking her head. “I may not be able to eat for a week after that. I assume you are feeling better?”
“Pretty much. Just very … normal. Funny, it’s something I’ve always wanted to have since I found out about myself, but right now I’m not too happy about it. Mostly because Pete’s in danger and we don’t know what kind or why or how. Or more importantly, who.”
They passed the truck in the alley and Clark deposited the box on the seat and then began describing the park on the way to the bandstand. All of a sudden, Clark pulled on their joined hands and turned to look at Lois.
“What is it, Clark?” He was turning beet red in the face, his eyes were wide in panic. He shrugged, not saying anything. She looked at him more closely and had an idea. “Stop holding your breath and let it go naturally.”
She got out of Clark’s way and his head reared back and he sneezed a horrendous sneeze.
“Wow, I’m glad you don’t sneeze when you’re,” she mouthed, “super.” Back in a normal voice she continued, “You’d blow the paint off a wall.”
*+*+*+*+*+
“Just be careful you don’t get a paper cut,” Lois admonished.
“A paper cut? Paper can cut human flesh?” Clark had never heard of or observed such a thing.
“Yes, the edge of it can. If it happens your finger will bleed, but just put your finger in your mouth and suck on the cut and it will stop bleeding.”
Lois and Clark continued walking and soon came to the train tracks that ran through the middle of town.
“You have train tracks running through the middle of town?”
He just shrugged and began explaining. “Well, the tracks were on the edge of town, about, oh, one hundred years ago. But the town expanded and it became the middle of the town. The park and bandstand are on beyond it.”
“But there’s a gate down and the train is stopped on the tracks! When will it move?”
Clark shrugged.
Lois looked crestfallen. “How long will it take?”
“It takes as long as it takes.”
“Wow, I didn't realize Zen was popular in the countryside.”
“It always takes people from the city a while to decompress.”
“Do you think Larry and Henry will still be at the bandstand?”
“Yep.”
Lois wasn’t too sure she liked laconic Clark as well as voluble Clark. Two could play that game. She crossed her arms and turned to him. “Why?”
“They’ll be there for a six-pack between them.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Well, at least you have a reason. I’m not sure I could live so ‘laissez-faire.’”
Clark turned to her and crossed his arms. “You can joke, but take away Middle America and what have you got?
“Art, music, theater –“
Clark’s mouth twitched. “-- crime, drugs, poverty.”
Lois nodded her head at the gap between the cars. “How about we just hop on through?”
Shaking his head, Clark said, “Not a good idea. The train could move any moment and you could fall off the coupling and get run over. And I can’t fly us through, up, around or do anything to rescue you right now.”
“Coupling?”
“The thing between the cars is a coupling. It attaches the rolling stock to the power engine.”
“Is there anything you don’t know? And wipe that smirk off your face.”
“Trains built the Midwest and the West. The towns sprang up around the water tanks for the steam engines. We take our trains seriously in Kansas. Without them, there wouldn’t be any Kansas; no farms, no towns, no universities. There used to be lots of land and not much civilization." At her look of an impending comment, he said, "Yes, we consider this civilization. Back to trains. Most of today’s highways follow the train’s right of way.”
Lois emphasized her boredom by cupping her hand over her mouth and imitating a big yawn. “Fascinating,” she remarked sarcastically. “Again, how long is this going to take?
Unabashed, Clark continued, “And, although it is called the Mid West here, Kansas is the middle of the United States. There is a marker in Lebanon, Kansas that marks the geographic center of the contiguous United States. That means the Lower 48, as they are known.”
Lois raised an eyebrow, non-verbally saying, 'I know that, pleeeze.'
Clark was teasing Lois now, trying to get her to rise to the bait, so he continued pedantically, “The North American Datum of 1927 (NAD27) is based on the Clarke Ellipsoid of 1866 – that’s Clarke with an “e” at the end and has no relationship to me. It was created by manual surveying of the entire continent. Manual means two guys with tripods and a tape measure. The geodetic "center" of NAD27 is a base station at Meades Ranch in Kansas. Meades Ranch is in Lebanon.”
Lois was starting to looked beyond bored and he couldn’t resist continuing. “After NAD 27 came the World Geodetic Surveys, aka WGS. The current system of WGS-84 is what the GPS system is based on.”
After pausing for effect, he ended, “And again, the train takes as long as it takes.”
Lois began tapping her foot and stated firmly. “I know a fact about Kansas.”
Clark lifted an eyebrow. “Do tell. And what is that?”
“Boot Hill is in Dodge City.”
“And why is a cemetery called Boot Hill?”
“Because they were too poor to get a headstone and used their boots as a marker.”
Clark saw Lois’ mouth twitch. She was teasing him. Well, that was better than mock boredom. He replied in a like manner. “No, silly. Because they were gunfighters and died with their boots on. But, yeah, they often didn’t have money to be buried properly. Actually, the first Boot Hill in Kansas is in Hays, not Dodge City. Twenty-six people were buried in Hays before the first one in Dodge City.”
Lois tapped her foot again to see if the train would move. It didn’t. “Well, I’m never going to go on Jeopardy with you, mister.”
To kill the time, Clark started talking again. “Well, it’s too bad we’re here this time of year. In late September, after the corn harvest is in, we have the annual Corn Festival.
“This is a good thing?”
Dramatically, to counter her mock sarcasm, Clark replied, “Sure. We would see the Corn Queen Pageant. The Husk-Off. The Corn-O-Rama. Popcorn, creamed corn, corn-on-the-cob. We'd be in luck.”
“Be still, my heart,” Lois riposted. Just then the train began to creak as tension came to the car couplings. It began moving … very slooooowly.
Clark and Lois smiled at each other. Clark pulled her to his side and whispered in her ear, “I really am feeling better. Maybe tonight …” He had to stop as the train began rattling loudly down the track. He took the waiting time to give Lois a deep, soul searching kiss.
Lois replied in kind, intensifying the kiss and trying to give him support and comfort.
Finally the last car passed them just as they touched their foreheads together at the end of the kiss.
Few trains had a caboose any more, especially freight trains. They hurried on into the park and headed for the bandstand.
As they approached, Clark stopped and spread his hands wide as if he were envisioning and large banner sign over the bandstand. “Just picture this, the sign reads 'Smallville Corn Festival'”. He began describing a headline article in the Daily Planet. “The annual festival is a small, but well organized affair with a cute logo.”
Dropping the headline story imitation, Clark explained earnestly. “They run a contest for the logo in the spring at the High School. The touring carnival comes to town with rides, fun houses and feats of strength. Also the local crafters vie for prizes in quilting, knitting, art, garment sewing, cooking, clay working, painting and anything else they put their minds to. The local band, which is not bad, plays for dancing. We do all the country western stuff, line dancing, tush push, and the local high school has a jazz combo. You could even sing at it, Lois!”
Clark was so enthusiastic, Lois couldn’t help but be entranced. “I feel like Dorothy. Shouldn't a tornado be flying me off to Oz pretty soon?”
“Bad metaphor, Lois. Dorothy wanted to get back to Kansas.”
“Technicality.”
“There’s the bandstand,” Clark pointed out. Then he saw Rachel Harris, actually Sheriff Rachel Harris, complete with uniform, cuffs, and gun, walking toward Larry and Henry who were standing by the bandstand
Clark intercepted her. “Rachel?”
Intent on going to the two men, Rachel didn’t see Clark at first but was brought up short by his hail. “Clark! When did you get into town? I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age. Or since you left for college. But, don't let the uniform fool you. I can still two-step and tush-push better than anybody in town. Come the Corn Festival this year, I’ll show you! We can dance for old time’s sake.”
“I'm sure you will.”
“’Scuse me. I’m going to check up on these good ol’ boys now.”
“Actually, I’m coming to meet them.” Clark noticed Rachel suddenly seeing Lois with him and performed introductions. “Uh, Rachel, Lois Lane. Lois, Rachel Harris. I guess that's Sheriff Harris now.”
Rachel nodded sociably at Lois and the group of three continued toward the two men. Rachel continued, “I beat Fordman in last year's election just by promising to buy a couple of computers. Imagine that, in this day and age!”
Lois looked at Rachel, “Old time's sake?”
“Clark took me to his senior prom. Why are you two here?”
Lois hurriedly explained, “We're on assignment for the Daily Planet. We work together.”
“Really? Completely professional, huh?”
Clark interceded as they reached the men “Rach, see, the reason we're here is -- do you know where Pete Ross is? And what’s happening at the Ross Farm?” Clark pitched his voice to include Larry and Henry.
Giving Larry and Henry a professional once over and noticing that no beer was in sight, Rachel said, “Glad to see you boys are behaving yourselves.”
Larry pointed to Clark and said, “We ran into Clark at Maisie’s and he wanted to know what was happening at the Rosses and I said we’d meet him here and tell him what we know. Which isn’t much.”
Turning pleading eyes on the group of three, Clark explained. “The tearing up of the Ross Farm has reached the news in Metropolis and we came here to find out why. The government says it’s dangerous pesticides, but I lived there and I know Dr. Ross only supported green farming. Also we stopped by Pete’s house in Baldwin and he’s not there. So we were hoping he was here or someone had word on him.”
Henry spoke up. “They came into the shop to rent some equipment, but they sure weren’t farmers or the EPA or ATF or whatever. They didn’t know what they were doing to grow anything. They were dressed for combat, like in the video games. So they just got some backhoes. Several of them seemed to know how to run those. But those aren’t good for anything but tearing out fields.”
Rachel stepped in. “How about the rest of the Rosses. Where are they?”
“I talked to Rita on the phone and they are up in Florence at our Aunt Bessie’s,” Clark assured her.
Lois stepped in then. “I went up to the tent and talked to Miz Sherman. Mostly, she seemed to be there to give the party line and not a lot of detailed information. She denied that any of the Rosses were there and that includes Pete.”
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Pete Ross sat bound, gagged and blindfolded on a hard metal chair. Not knowing where he was bothered him. When the black clad military types had invaded his apartment, he had tried to call Clark on the phone. He had even tried to yell “Clark,” though he knew that Clark really couldn’t hear him all the way in Metropolis. But they had gagged him before he could yell and hustled him off to what felt like a delivery van as he bounced on a hard vinyl floor mat. He could tell he was on freeways and then surface roads, being transported at a fast rate of speed, but that was it. Nobody told him what it was they wanted. For they clearly wanted something from him. It surely wasn’t money, because he certainly didn’t have much.
‘Clark, Clark, where are you? I sure could use your help now, little brother. You saved the world, now come help me from whatever trouble this is,’ he thought frantically to himself. He tried wrenching his arms free, but of course it didn’t work. He could hop a little with the chair, but that didn’t really do much for him. Except, he could tell the floor wasn’t concrete, but hard packed dirt. Where in the world was he? It was hard to tell time elapsed, because he was rather in a state of panic, but it seemed like they had driven about two hours, mostly on smooth, straight highway. Could he possibly be back in Smallville? The timing was about right.
Was this whole thing something to do with Superman? Had they found out something about him somehow and tracked the S-man to his family? If so, he was in extremely deep do do. And that meant they might have gotten Clark first!
‘Way to stay calm there,’ Pete scolded himself. If somehow they managed to do something to Clark, he didn’t have much hope for himself coming out of whatever this was unscathed. He heard voices in the distance and then the sound of some – fabric? – being moved. Pushed aside? Opened like a tent?
Was he in a tent? He sneezed just to make a sound and listened carefully. The sound was absorbed and didn’t echo like in a building. Maybe. What did he know? Well, a lot; but not about guns, military guys and warfare. They had nuked Clark after he had saved the Nightfall asteroid! If this was the same group, he was indeed in deep kimchi. He felt someone untie his blindfold and somehow it didn’t make him feel better at all.
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Lois and Clark were back in Maisie’s diner in mid afternoon. Lois was glaring at Clark. “Don't mind my friend, Lois. She's from Metropolis.” Lois was quoting Clark talking to the clerk at City Hall.
“You were coming off a little ... 'intense.'”
“Clark, intensity might be a crime in Smallville, but in Metropolis, it's a survival skill.” Lois tossed her cellular phone on the table and pulled out her reporter's notebook. “All right. Four hours in City Hall. What do we know? What facts do we have to counter Miz Sherman?”
Summarizing, Clark said “We know that in twenty years, there were no permits and no citations on
the Ross property, just like I said.”
Lois wrote that down. “No activity that would attract the attention of the federal government.”
Maisie came over then and asked, “So how’s it going you two? Need any coffee? I just did a fresh pot for the mid afternoon crowd.”
Lois lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yes! Coffee, that would be great. Thanks, Maisie.”
“No problem. You two look like you are working hard. How about you, Clark. It’s not Kona, but it’s coffee.”
“Sounds really great right now. And what kind of pie do you have?”
“The old standard apple is pretty good. Not much fresh fruit around now for other kinds, though.”
“That sounds great. I’ll take it.”
“So you know about Clark’s love of Kona Coffee?”
“Oh, that's just Smallville for you. Everybody knows everything about everybody else,” Maisie asserted.
“So why haven't I heard any dirt on Clark?”
Maisie replied, “With Clark, what you see is what you get. I'll be back in a jif.”
Lois watched Maisie leave with an arched eyebrow, looked at Clark and said sotto voice, “Got them fooled, don’t you?”
Clark just smirked at her and flipped his legal pad to a new page. “Ow!” Clark looked at his finger in astonishment. He realized something that he had never had to confront before. “I'm bleeding!”
Lois said smugly, “Warned you. Put it in your mouth, Clark. Suck on it. Think of it as a life lesson.”
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Pete felt the blindfold being removed from his face. He squinted heavily as a very bright light nearly blinded him. Opening his eyes slowly, he began to make out three figures dressed in black military uniforms and heavily armed with side arms and rifles.
The man in the center approached Pete and looked down on him. “My name is George Thompson and these are my men. You are in a pile of trouble, young man. We are looking for something very important and you have it!”
It was the same man who had invaded the Daily Planet and interrogated Lois, Pete realized with horror. He’d heard the name from Lois, but never had seen him before. Mumbling through his gag, he tried to say, “Water!”
Thompson nodded to one of the men and he came over and untied the gag.
Pete spit out as best he could and rubbed his dry tongue over his parched lips. “Water,” he croaked.
At the leader’s nod, the same man brought a paper cup of tepid water from an expandable water jug on a table and held it for Pete to sip.
The water was warm, but tasted like heaven to Pete. He raised his face and let it trickle down his throat.
Thompson began his interrogation, for it was clear from his manner that that was what this was.
“We have two possibilities. Either you buried it somewhere on this farm or you gave it to someone. Now, which is it?”
Pete thought with returning clarity, ‘This farm? That means I’m home! What in the world is he talking about? What could I have had and buried? I have no clue what he means.’
With a returning voice, Pete decided they might kill him if he didn’t have what they wanted, so he decided on a stall tactic. He had to clear his throat, then simply denied he had anything. “There wasn't anymore. That's it.”
Thompson didn’t like that answer. He turned the light brighter and Pete flinched.
“Wrong answer.”
Just then, Pete notice the flap of the tent door open and a lady walked in. With his clearing eyesight, he noticed she looked shocked.
Thompson turned and noticed her. “Problem, Ms. Sherman?” His tone was both bored and derogatory.
In a voice full of surprise and anger, she said, “You told me he was being relocated to a motel. He is just a kid!”
Pete felt like protesting at that, but decided silence was the better part of valor.
Thompson waved at the tent and its contents. “He has been relocated. This is his new location. We brought him home! Something he should be glad to see.”
Sherman wasn’t to be so easily appeased. “Since when does the Environmental Protection Agency do interrogations?”
Thompson answered her concern curtly, “It doesn't. But Bureau 39 does. With great vigor, I might add.”
“Bureau 39? Never heard of you. What do you do?” Sherman looked angrier.
Arrogantly, Thompson told her, “That's on a need-to-know basis. You don't.”
“Well, I needed a job, but not this bad.” With a cutting gesture of her hand, she indicated her disgust. “I won't be a part of this!”
Thompson turned away from Pete and got in Sherman’s face. In a deadly monotone, he said, “Let me explain clearly and in simple terms. No one alive has ever quit Bureau 39.” He gave her a scary smile. “Now, if you're still determined to leave, I'd be happy to accept your immediate and permanent resignation.”
Thompson looked at his agents significantly. The moved their hands to the grips of their rifles. Pete looked shocked and so did Sherman. She tensed and said, “No. I'm fine.”
“Well, then, I assume there was something else you came to tell me.”
Sherman looked over to Pete and then back at the Bureau 39 men. “I just talked to two reporters. A Lois Lane and a Clark Kent from the Daily Planet.”
Thompson smiled and Pete closed his eyes in relief. Clark would come for him if he could signal him somehow. Yelling didn’t seem too wise with the guys with guns staring at him.
Sherman continued, “They're outside.”
“Perfect. If they're here, Superman can't be far behind.”
*+*+*+*+*+*+
tbc
Artemis
next part soon!
