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Mr. Beeto
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Family Reunion - 41/?
Feb 26th, 2009 at 10:32am
 
Title: Family Reunion
Author: Mr. Beeto
Rating: PG-13
Beta: htbthomas and Shado Librarian
Summary: AU Twist on Donner/Singer Movieverse: Tie the three films together into a cohesive whole, and provide a more credible and interesting reason for Superman to have returned to Krypton.

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Author’s Notes:
Thanks again to the beta team of htbthomas and Shado Librarian, a.k.a. dandello.  This is another chapter that ended up better than I started with thanks to the collaborative feedback on some of the military aspects from dandello.  Many thanks.

Chapter 41 – Threat Response

Thursday, October 5, 2006 3:45PM EDT
General George Matthews pensively observed the Command Center at the Cheyenne Mountain Operations Center through the window of his office on the level above it.  There was a bank of large plasma screens mounted high on the far wall, with banks of workstations lining the center of the room.  Each workstation gave the worker access to an array of data and communications to feed up to the decision makers.  The facility had been emptied barely two months earlier and everything transferred to Peterson Air Force Base – the government simply couldn’t justify the cost in the post cold war era.  However, the site had been quickly reactivated after the EMP attack just ten days earlier, given its superior EM shielding.  Matthews had been surprised at just how quickly they’d been able to transfer everything back.

General Matthews reflected that the individuals below who had been recruited from all five branches of the United States military were the best of the best.  They’d need to be to survive the current threat, which was unlike any he’d known of in his lifetime.  Not even 9/11 could compare to the burden he felt on his shoulders for this crisis, and not even the cold war had ever presented the existential threat they now faced.  With few exceptions, Fortress America simply wasn’t breached.

The assault from Lex Luthor had begun with an EMP that was far more powerful that the initial one from ten days earlier, and it had darkened cities along the coast from Alexandria, Virginia north to Boston, Massachusetts and as far inland as Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.  The EMP had destroyed virtually all powered electronics in the area, disabling running vehicles and silencing civilian communications.  The coastal cities had been further rocked by a five point seven earthquake originating ninety-three miles offshore from Metropolis, which was certain to have been caused by the stolen Kryptonian technology.  The Eastern Seaboard was simply not a seismic zone.

NORTHCOM was already providing logistical support to those areas, sending C-130 cargo planes from the First Air Force to airlift National Guard personnel and equipment into affected cities – the roads were simply impassible with all the disabled vehicles.  General Matthews was grateful that military communications tended to be redundant and EM shielded - the necessary coordination would otherwise have proved impossible.

Of course, the relief delivered to the cities would be a moot point if they failed in their primary objective of stopping Lex Luthor and seizing control of the alien technology.  Towards that end, they had a pair of the Navy’s V-22 Ospreys on the way there from Little Creek, Virginia to deploy SEAL squads against the madman.  The first squad’s mission was to seize control of the yacht, with a secondary mission to liberate Lois Lane, the daughter of Lieutenant General Sam Lane, who was one of George Matthews’ closest friends.  He remembered Lois as a bold teenager, whose antics provoked frustration and grey hair for his friend.  We’ll get her back, Sam, Matthews silently promised.

The second Osprey carried a standby team, which would circle the engagement zone waiting for additional targets to be identified.  Though both the Navy and Air Force had plenty of firepower ready in the air, it was a mission requirement to capture Luthor alive and preserve whatever control systems were directing the assault against U.S. soil.  If they destroyed it, they could very well destroy their only chance of stopping the threat.  Failure was not an option.

General Matthews diverted his attention to the center screens across from him, which revealed live radar and infrared images from the surveillance satellites now trained on the yacht, and he noticed something that was likely to generate a lot of excitement among the analysts below – a small seaplane had just ferried up and docked behind the yacht.  Matthews ran out of the office and down the stairs, and found his Chief of Staff, Air Force Colonel Mike Johnson.  “What have we got on that plane?” Matthews asked insistently.

“Sir, we hope to have clear video from the Predators in a few minutes,” Colonel Johnson told him.  “We’ll have to wait until then to get the tail numbers.”

Matthews nodded his understanding.  While the infrared and radar sensors aboard the satellites easily penetrated the now-heavy cloud cover over the target and provided precise information on the movements of people and equipment, they didn’t easy lend themselves to capture the plane’s markings.  “How far out are our boys right now?”

“They should be there in another twenty minutes, sir,” Johnson informed him.

“Sirs!” a voice called out urgency.  Matthews and Johnson looked over to find Navy Petty Officer First Class Hannah Daggett standing in front of them, the cord from her headset stretching tightly back to her desk.  “Sirs, the Truman has new information on the target.”

“How did they come by this information?” General Matthews asked.

“Apparently, the enemy’s prisoner got loose, sir,” Daggett explained.  “Lois Lane just radioed in from the yacht and reported that Lex Luthor and some of his men had left the vessel on a helicopter.  She believes that only two hostiles remain aboard.”

  “Do we have the audio from Lane’s call?” General Matthews asked.

“The Truman’s sending it now, sir,” Daggett answered.  “Give me a moment, and I’ll queue it up for you.”

“Thank you, Petty Officer,” Matthews replied.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

General Matthews and Colonel Johnson followed Daggett back to her station, and plugged in spare headsets and listened to the message.  Afterwards, the General turned to his chief of staff and asked, “So what do you think?”

Johnson turned towards the overhead screens displaying the yacht images and commented, “It could be legit, sir.  That does look like a helipad behind the wheel house – and an empty one at that.”

Matthews followed his gaze in time to notice another screen light up with clear video showing a side view of the yacht from a Predator UAV flying below the clouds.  Matthews heard another officer holler, “Have them circle behind the ship!  We need the tail numbers from the plane tied up behind it.”  The image on the screen slowly panned aft, finally circling behind where the tail numbers were clear to see:  N-7241H.

“I’m on it sir,” one of the other analysts said.  “Tail number November seven two four one Hotel.”  Matthews marched over to the analyst, who was an Air Force Tech Sergeant named Reynolds.  He held a hand over his earpiece as he concentrated on the conversation with the other party.  Finally, he looked up and said, “Sirs, it’s a private aircraft registered to a Richard White from North Bridge, Delaware.  FBI is running a background check.”

“You said it’s White’s plane?” Matthews asked urgently.  Didn’t Sam call his daughter’s perpetual fiancé ‘White’? he wondered.

“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Reynolds answered.

“Do you know him, General?” Johnson asked.

“No, but I think I’ve heard the name ‘White’ associated with Lois Lane before,” Matthews informed them.  “If he’s who I think he is, he’s a civilian would-be rescuer, which is the last thing we need right now.  We don’t need some amateur wannabe hero getting himself killed.”

“Lane did say they were only two hostiles aboard,” Johnson reminded him.

“Sirs, you’d better take a look at this,” Reynolds interrupted, pointed to one of the overhead screens.

The Predator video had zoomed in on the stern, where a dark-skinned man had just untied the seaplane and pushed it adrift.  He was hiding beside the stairs down to the stern swimming platform and was carrying a handgun.  There was an armed woman behind him, though she seemed uncertain what to do with the firearm and was constantly switching it from one hand to the other.

“That’s got to be Harris and Kowalski, sir,” Johnson speculated.  “It looks like you were right about White trying to be a hero.  With all due respect, sir, I hope you’re wrong about the other part.”

“Captain Archer!” Matthews shouted to a naval officer across the room.  “That hostile is not Lex Luthor.  Get a fighter down there and take them out!  Gatling gun only, and don’t sink the ship.”

“Sending the order now, sir,” Archer replied.

Matthews returned his attention to the screen and a minute later witnessed an armed man and women running across the deck past the Jacuzzi.  The woman was in front as they raced down the stairs towards the swimming platform, and the moment she cleared the bottom step, Harris punched her in the face with his gun hand, sending her flying back and nearly into the sea.  A moment later Harris and Kowalski led their two prisoners up the stairs at gunpoint.

“Call off the air strike!” Matthews ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Matthews turned to his chief of staff and said authoritatively, “Keep on their communications.  If they call that into their boss, I want the target location.  And let the SEAL squads know about this development.”

“Yes, sir,” Johnson replied deferentially.

“I think it’s safe to assume that Lane was loose on the ship, and the new intelligence really did come from her,” Matthews declared.  “That means we have a helicopter to find, and a S.O.B. to take out of action.  Let’s get to it!”

-o-o-o-


Luthor set the helicopter down at the extreme edge of the plateau, not wanting it to be in the way of the video they’d soon be shooting.  He shut off the helicopter’s engine, stepped out and carefully extracted his kryptonite spear from the back seat, before turning to scrutinize the new land mass.  Its peak rose another seventy feet at the other end of the surface, with stairs at either side leading up to the command chamber, where there would be a replica of the crystal console from Superman’s Fortress.  Unfortunately, this console would at least temporarily remain devoid of data crystals, just like the one at the Fortress.  Luthor cursed his luck and hoped that the idiots he left behind on the yacht would find his missing crystals quickly.

He walked away from the edge and motioned for Grant to join him, commanding his subordinate, “Set the tripod at the bottom of the stairs on the right.  Make sure you get a clear picture of me.  Once I come down to greet our guest, move it to the center of the plateau and join us.”

“Tripod?  I can get everything with the steady-cam,” Grant protested.

“Well if Brutus was here to join Reilly and me on the welcoming committee, I could leave you behind the camera,” Luthor replied condescending.  “However, since that fool got himself killed, I’ll need you to join us, which means you’ll need to leave the camera unattended after we get started.  And I don’t want to miss a second of this.  You do have the tripod in that bag, don’t you?”

“Yeah, boss.  I’ll get it set up.”

“Reilly, wait for the freak over there at the bottom of the stairs, just like we planned,” Luthor commanded.

Reilly nodded and staked out a spot near the left stairway, while Luthor jogged up the stairs towards the command chamber.  He was halfway up when he heard the sonic booms and the roar of jet engines.  He paused and looked towards the sky, spotting the fighters in the distance.

“Boss?” Grant questioned nervously.

“I’ve been expecting them,” Luthor replied casually.  “They’re no match for the advanced weapons systems of this place.”  He hurried up the stairs, again cursing his luck.  He wasn’t about to let the men know how defenseless they were without the crystals taken by Lane and her brats.  As he rushed up the stairs, he deviously plotted how he would punish them for the trouble they’d caused.

Luthor reached the top of the stairs and entered the chamber through a doorway centered between the two staircases.  The chamber inside was lit with an eerie green glow, and Luthor spotted the console at on an elevated platform in the center, three steps up from rest of the room.  He walked up to the console and examined it, his eyes widening in surprise when his gaze locked onto the single crystal located in a holding slot near the lower edge of the top panel.  The construction crystal? Luthor wondered.  It wasn’t consumed?  Or was this regrown as part of the program?  He pulled the crystal from its cell and inserted it into the reader slot at the top, which immediately lit up with a bright green-white illumination.

Luthor smiled evilly and commanded, “Target the fighters flying outside and destroy them.”

“Khartau ri s’frei(1),” an unfamiliar male voice replied.

“Shoot down the fighters!” Luthor screamed.

“Khartau ri s’frei,” the voice repeated.

“Raise shields!” Luthor demanded desperately.

“Khartau ri s’frei,” the voice again stated.

“Damn it!” Luthor swore.

“Khartau ri s’frei.”

Luthor stared at the console briefly and thought, That wasn’t Jor-El’s voice – it sounded almost mechanical, empty and emotionless.  It must be some kind of rudimentary operating system, with only the default language installed…  It’s probably telling me the Kryptonian equivalent of ‘Syntax Error’…  All this advanced alien technology, all useless without the other crystals.

Luthor reached to pull the crystal from the reader slot, but suddenly pulled his hand back.  No, maybe not completely useless, he corrected himself, Maybe it’ll at least have some automated defenses to protect me from the fighters.  He left the crystal in the reader slot, and walked over to the doorway, taking a standing position just inside.  Luthor wasn’t a patient man, and cursed the wait that the loss of the crystals would impose on him.

The original plan had been to use the Kryptonian technology to send out the ultrasonic beacon to lure the freak in.  Now, he’d have to wait for the alien to figure it out, which could be a long time.  Luthor parked the butt of his spear between his feet, and leaned against the door frame while he waited for his adversary to show up.  Where are you, you meddling freak? Luthor wondered.  Let’s get this over with.

-o-o-o-


Richard followed Kitty Kowalski through the yacht’s dining room with his hands parked on top of his head.  He didn’t dare try anything with Stanford Harris holding a gun to Lois’ head behind him.  As they walked, Richard reflecting on the words exchanged between Harris and Lois.  The rogue thought the kids were on the ship and was asking where they were, as well as demanding the return of Superman’s crystals.

The argument about the kids confused him, since Perry swore they were with him.  He didn’t know what to think of Lois’ assertion that Superman had rescued the kids and recovered the crystals.  He also found it baffling that Lois’ declaration that Superman would be back to rescue them would have provoked a chuckle from Harris.  The felon was apparently unconvinced that the Man of Steel would show up.

They walked into the galley and Kitty opened the door to a large walk-in pantry cooler, gesturing for Richard to enter.  He reluctantly complied, turning around inside to face the others just as Stanford shoved Lois in after him and slammed the door behind her.

“Hey!” Lois shouted, pushing futilely against the door, which had been locked from the outside.  She pounded her fist against the porthole in the door, but to no avail.  She sighed and finally turned around to face Richard.

Richard involuntarily cringed at the sight of the angry bruise along her jaw.  “Your jaw…” he began.

“I’ll be fine, assuming we can find a way out of here,” Lois replied quickly.  She opened one of the drawers in the cabinet along the wall and started rifling through it.

“I’m so sorry,” Richard said quietly.  “I wanted to rescue you, and instead I’ve pulled you out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

Lois looked over at him and said firmly, “Don’t blame yourself.  We almost made it, and if we’d been as careful around that last corner as we were earlier, it’d been a different result.  I’d have surprised him just like I did you.”

Richard chuckled at the memory and said, “Well, you certainly surprised me.”  His tone turned serious and he added, “I guess we were in too big a hurry to get off the boat.  We got careless.”

“Well, it ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings, and I don’t hear her singing yet,” Lois insisted.  “At least the kids are safe with Perry, right?”

“Actually, I think he handed them off to Ron pretty quickly after the earthquake,” Richard informed her.

“Earthquake?”

“Yeah, it hit about a half hour, forty-five minutes ago, I think.  It was after I was in the air.  Perry said the building got rocked pretty thoroughly, toppling things over and cracking some of the walls and windows.  It’s hard to really get a handle on the magnitude of it with everything down after the EMP, however.  We’ve got people out there trying, though.”

“Metropolis doesn’t get earthquakes,” Lois pointed out.

“We got one today.  Anyway, Perry said that Kara freaked out when the quake hit, and was crying hysterically and speaking some strange language.  Perry may have a secret soft spot for kids, but that kind of thing gets delegated and quickly, especially at the office.  Ron’s looking after them now.”

“Oh, God,” Lois replied, her expression betraying her worry as she looked back over at him.  “I hope he can calm her down.”

“He’s had plenty of practice with the twins,” Richard assured her.  He hesitated a moment and then asked, “Why does Harris think the kids are here?”

“He’s out of the loop,” Lois insisted.  “He saw them earlier but he didn’t see them get away.”

“So… what really happened this afternoon?”

“It’s a long story,” Lois answered wearily.

“Looks like we have some time,” Richard countered.

“Actually, no, we don’t,” Lois snapped.  “I’ll be damned if I’m going sit on my ass like some defenseless damsel in distress and let that lunatic use us as bait to lure Superman into a kryptonite trap.  We have to find a way out of this.”

“They have kryptonite?  No wonder they’re not worried about Superman showing up,” Richard commented.

“No kidding,” Lois retorted.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something to get that door open,” Lois replied.  She pulled out a rolling pen, eying it carefully as she added, “Or something we can use to surprise them.  Anything to give us the upper hand and turn the tables.”

“Do you really expect us to MacGyver our way out of this?”

“If we don’t, we’re dead,” Lois said simply.  “You know Luthor’s not just going to let us go if we ask nicely.  And he’s probably livid over the loss of Superman’s crystals.”

Richard nodded, frowning as he considered her words and he said somberly, “Then we’d better figure something out.”  He turned his attention to the cabinets and began looking through them as he joined Lois in her search for something they could improvise into tools or weapons.

-o-o-o-


Ron Troupe had tried every trick he knew to try to calm Kara down as he sat on the couch in Richard office, with the little girl on his lap.  Everything that worked like magic with his daughters was wasted on Kara.  He sang happy songs, and she remained inconsolable.  He’d rock her in his lap, with no effect.  He rubbed her back and gently asked what was bothering her, to no avail.  She was crying so hard, he couldn’t make out the words.

He was grateful that Jason was calm, at least.  The little boy was seated at Richard’s desk, coloring with the crayons that were always in the top drawer.  Or at least, he was trying to.  The first few crayons had inexplicably shattered before he found one that would stay in one piece for more than a few seconds.  Jason looked over worriedly several times, but ultimately returned to his drawing.

Ron reflected that his daughters had never been this upset, or been upset for as long as Kara had.  Of course, his daughters hadn’t lost a parent in a natural disaster, as Kara had.  Nor had they been reminded of that loss in another natural disaster, as he suspected was the case currently.  Ron patiently continued his ministrations and after twenty minutes that seemed an eternity, her cries began to lose strength.  He again prodded her to tell him what was bothering her, and although her words were clearer, he found he still couldn’t understand her.  She wasn’t speaking English.  In fact, it didn’t sound remotely like any language he had ever heard.

“Kara, can you try that in English?” he asked gently.  “I can’t understand you otherwise.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara replied tearfully.

“Was it the earthquake that scared you?” Ron prodded.

Kara nodded her head and mumbled, “The sun’s making the world shake ‘cause it’s going to explode.”

“What?” Ron replied incredulously.  “What would ever give you that idea, sweetheart?  The sun’s not going to explode.  It’s just an earthquake.  Yeah, they can be scary sometimes, but it doesn’t mean the world’s going to end.  It’s just one of those things that happen from time to time.”

“That’s what they said on Krypton, but then the sun exploded and everybody died,” Kara told him through her tears.

Her reply caught Ron off guard and he wasn’t sure what to make of her statement.  Maybe it’s not such a good idea for Clark to be telling her stories about Superman and Krypton’s end, Ron thought.  I’d better have a word with him about that.  He resumed rubbing Kara’s back and gently told her, “This isn’t Krypton, and things are different here.”

“How can you be sure?” Kara insisted.

Ron considered his answer for a moment, and then confidently told her, “Because of Superman.  He’s always out there helping people.  You trust him, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” Kara confirmed sadly.

“Well, he’s not about to the let the world end after all the effort he puts in.  If the world were ending, don’t you think he’d tell us, or try to stop it from it from happening?”

“I guess so,” Kara admitted.

“And has he told us the world is ending?” Ron pressed.

“No,” Kara conceded.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” Ron declared.  He wiped the tears from her face, grateful that she was finally calming.  She remained sitting quietly on his lap, clinging tightly to him as he rubbed her back.  They remained seated like that for several minutes, while a few more crayons were sacrificed to Jason’s drawing.

Kara was sitting so still on his lap that Ron was beginning to wonder if she had fallen asleep when the aftershock hit.  Though he’d been expecting it, its strength surprised him.  Aftershocks were supposed to be smaller magnitude quakes that the main shock, yet this one seemed to be of equal strength or stronger.  He pulled Kara tightly to him with one arm, reassuring her that it was just an earthquake while gesturing for Jason to join him with his free hand.  The little boy quickly ran over, and the three huddled closely together for the duration of the quake, which shattered the remaining glass windows and walls.

Finally, it was over, and they heard Perry’s booming voice as he declared, “Time to evacuate, people!  Everyone stay calm, but keep moving.  Everyone down the stairs.  Let’s go!  …That means you too, Troupe.”

Ron nodded and checked the children on his lap.  He looked at Kara’s terrified expression and told her, “It’s going to be okay, Kara.  I know it’s scary and dangerous, but it’s not the end of the world.  Do you think you’ll be okay to walk downstairs with us?”

Kara nodded silently, and Ron lifted both children to their feet.  He firmly grasped their hands, and led the two frightened children out into the bullpen and joined the exodus.

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Mr. Beeto
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Long Live the Movieverse

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Re: Family Reunion - 41/?
Reply #1 - Feb 26th, 2009 at 10:34am
 
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Superman had finally cleared the last victim from the collapsed buildings, and felt he could finally fly out to sea and rescue Lois.  He paused in the sky above Metropolis, and sought out the ship, his vision again extending through the hull, where he found Lois locked in a pantry cooler with Richard.  What on Earth is Richard doing out there? he wondered.  He pulled back his vision and found Richard’s seaplane adrift behind the yacht, along with an empty life raft.

He was about to head out to free them when the powerful aftershock hit the city.  By the look of things, it was every bit as powerful as the original quake, and as before, the city’s older construction wasn’t faring well against it.  He indulged in a longing look out to sea, and was surprised to discover a Navy Osprey lining up behind the ship, rotating its prop nacelles upwards as it slowed.  A peek inside the aircraft revealed a squad of Navy SEALs who were preparing to rappel out the back.  Superman exhaled in relief, and as he again turned towards the city and answered his call of duty, he thought, Looks like Lois got a hold of her dad.  Well, if I can’t get to them, maybe those SEALs can.  The Man of Steel then launched himself into action, once again providing relief to the victims of Luthor’s madness.

-o-o-o-


“Damn it, Kitty, you really are going to wash up with the surf if you don’t start helping,” Stanford hollered.  Kitty had abandoned the search immediately after locking up Lane and the pilot, insisting that the mother would never have made a run for the plane if her kids were still onboard.  However, he couldn’t afford to take that chance on making that assumption and being proven wrong in front of his unforgiving boss.  For all they knew, the kids could have been behind them, but scared off after their mother got hit.  They had to complete the search.  Or rather, he did.  Kitty wasn’t interested in helping, and was probably planning on her biological assets to keep Luthor’s wrath at bay.

He was searching through the lower decks when he heard the thrum of rotors.  That sure didn’t take long, Stanford thought.  I’d better get up there – he’s going to want a progress report, though he won’t be happy with it.  At least we caught the mother.  Stanford trotted over to the interior stairway up to the ‘Sky Lounge’ and out the port door to the exterior stairs up to the wheel house.  However, his eyes widened in panic when he looked up the stairs and saw four men in military garb pointing submachine guns at him.

“US Navy SEAL!” the one in front shouted as Stanford darted back inside the door.  However, his escape was blocked when another group of men in the same uniforms burst through the starboard door across from him.  With nowhere to run or hide, Stanford raised his arms in a surrender gesture.  The SEALs descended on him, knocking him to the ground.  A moment later he was laying face down on the floor, spread-eagled and stripped to his underwear, while they searched his clothes and the contents of his pockets.

-o-o-o-


Navy SEAL Lieutenant Alex Daniels was disgusted by man on the floor at their feet.  This was not some soldier or misguided believer fighting for a cause.  Instead, he was a petty criminal whose cause and loyalties were likely simply side effects of greed and fear.  Greed for whatever undeserved compensation he’d get, and fear for the wrath of his partners in crime if he betrayed them.  Daniels concluded that the felon was also a cowardly criminal, judging by the smell of the clothes they were examining, which suggested that the man had wet himself at the sight of them.

“Lieutenant,” Petty Officer Second Class Kevin Ramsey called out.  Daniels looked over at the irregular shaped piece of glowing green crystal slightly smaller than a baseball that Ramsey was holding up.  “Sir, do you think it’s kryptonite?”

“Intelligence said they had some,” Daniels reminded him.

“They say it’s radioactive,” Ramsey pointed out.

“Which is why we have the rad bags, so let’s get it bagged.  Better safe than sorry,” Daniels decided.

One of the other men turned his back to Ramsey and the petty officer unzipped the pack on the man’s back, extracting what looked like a metallic letter size envelope, albeit with a yellow and black radiation trefoil warning symbol on it.  Ramsey spread it open, dropped the kryptonite inside, and folded the thin metal over on the end to seal it inside.  The packet was then zipped back inside the other man’s pack.

“Find anything else?” Daniels inquired.

“The Glock, pocket knife, a wallet and pocket change.  It’s all bagged,” Ramsey told him.

“Get him on his feet,” Daniels ordered.

Two of the men roughly pulled Stanford up and turned him to face their Lieutenant.  Stanford wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his fear, assuming he was even trying.

“Where’s Lois Lane?” Daniels asked sternly.

“I… I don’t know who that is,” Stanford stammered.

“Sir,” Ramsey interrupted.  He poked his MP5 submachine gun in Stanford’s chest and added threateningly.  “I think the enemy is shooting at us.  I recommend that we return fire.”

“What! No, you can’t!” Stanford protested fearfully.

Daniels didn’t normally tolerate harassment of prisoners, but in circumstances where they needed to quickly recover a hostage, he’d allow the men to bluff.  The current situation certainly fell into that category, and Daniels replied, “Better get him dressed first.  There’d be too many questions otherwise.”

“Whoa! Wait!” Stanford said urgently.  “I remember now – she’s locked in the pantry on the deck below us.  I can take you there.”

Daniels turned to Ramsey, and neutrally said, “Give him his pants and let’s check it out.  Ramsey, Peterson, Michaels – you’re with me.  We’ll take the prisoner to the pantry.  Everyone else continue clearing the ship.”  He turned back to Stanford and warned, “And this better not be a wild goose chase.”

One of the men threw the pants to Stanford, and immediately after the criminal pulled them up, Ramsey pulled his arms behind his back and cuffed them.  Stanford turned back to him and complained, “What about the rest of my clothes?”

“No time,” Ramsey said simply, prodding the criminal ahead at the point of his gun.  “Get moving, and keep your mouth shut.

A couple minutes later they were in the galley, and Stanford nodded towards a heavy insulated door with a small porthole at the top.  “They’re in there,” he said enthusiastically.  “Just pull the handle to open the door to let them out.”

“Sir, he seems a bit eager for us to open that door, don’t you think?” Ramsey commented.  “Luthor’s just the type to set a few booby-traps.”

“Maybe we let him open the door,” Daniels suggested.  He nodded to his men, and Peterson and Michaels took cover around doorways at either end of the room, with their weapons trained on Stanford.   Daniels took position five feet to the left of the door.

Ramsey removed the plastic cuffs from Stanford’s wrists and backed away from him, taking cover behind one of the stoves before he commanded the prisoner, “Open the door, or we really will ‘return fire’ this time.”

Stanford nervously walked ahead, unlocked the door and opened it.  He immediately ducked to avoid the wine bottle that was hurled out, but as he did so, a woman swung a rolling pin into his face.  The felon screamed and stepped back and looked up to see another wine bottle hurled his way, but when dodged it, he found himself stepping on one of several olive jars that the man inside the pantry had sent rolling out.  Stanford lost his balance and fell backwards, landing hard on the floor.

The woman was menacingly wielding the rolling pin and looked like she was about to launch herself at the fallen criminal when Ramsey’s voice stopped her.  “Easy, ma’am!  I think you got him!” he hollered mirthfully.

The woman looked up and seemed to suddenly notice the men taking cover around the galley.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded to know.

Lieutenant Daniels quickly answered, “US Navy SEALs.”  He emerged from his hiding place and walked up to the woman as the unidentified man in a business suit emerged behind her.  He had a bottle of wine in each hand, holding them by the neck like weapons, presumably ready to launch them at whomever else they found on the other side of the door.  “Lois Lane, I presume?” Daniels asked.

The woman nodded, and said irritably, “You from the Truman?  It’s about time you got here.”

“Actually, we flew out of Little Creek, Virginia, and we got here as quickly as we could,” Daniels said apologetically.  He looked down at the groaning man on the floor and then turned to the man behind him, telling him sternly, “Ramsey, get this garbage out of here.”

“Yes, sir.  Good thing we had him open the door, isn’t it, sir?”

“Damn straight,” Daniels agreed.  As Ramsey and Peterson dragged Stanford Harris way, the lieutenant turned to the gentleman behind Lois and said, “You must be the cowboy who flew in here on that seaplane.”

“Richard White,” the man introduced himself, holding out his hand.

Daniels shook his hand and said, “Lieutenant Alex Daniels.  That was a valiant effort, Mister White, but next time, leave the rescues to the professionals.”

“This coming from a man who jumps out of perfectly good aircraft,” Richard replied pleasantly.  “By the way, I actually have some experience taking out the bad guys – during the first Desert Storm, behind the stick of an€-130.”

Daniels quietly mumbled, “Flyboy…”

Before Richard could reply, there was a horrendous sound of groaning metal, and a crystal spike burst through the floor of the galley, shaking the ship and knocking everyone off their feet.  Stanford seized the opportunity to dart out the door of the galley.  However, just as the SEALs started after him, the yacht ripped near its center line along the weaker seams of the upper decks.  The tear caused the stern half of the yacht that included the pantry to fall back, rotating down nearly ninety degrees and sending Lois, Richard and Lieutenant Daniels falling towards the opposite wall of the pantry twelve feet beyond the door.

Lois and Richard caught themselves on the cabinets along the wall, but Daniels hit the back wall hard and was momentarily stunned.  Lois and Richard climbed down to check on him.

“You okay, Lieutenant?  Sir, ma’am?” Ramsey called down.

“We’re okay,” Lois shouted up.  “We’re checking on your lieutenant.”

Daniels blinked a couple of times and looked up in alarm at the sky beyond the door above them.  He immediately pressed the push to talk button on his throat mike and said urgently.  “Wolf pack, Wolf leader.  Abandon ship.  Repeat, abandon ship.”  Richard helped Daniels to his feet, but before beginning the climb up to the door, the lieutenant again pressed the talk button at his throat and said, “Wolf den, Wolf leader.  Request emergency evac.  Repeat, request emergency evac.  Over.”

The trio began climbing up the cabinets secured to the wall, and Daniels hand again went to his throat, as he irritably replied, “A spike from the land mass just impaled the ship and split it in two.  It’s going to sink, and we need evac.”  He resumed his climb behind Richard and Lois, but just as they reached the door, the steel of the hull finally gave way, dropping each half of the yacht into the sea on opposite sides of the new peak and sending Richard, Lois and Daniels again falling to the back wall of the pantry.

-o-o-o-


(1) Kryptonian for “Command not understood.”  Again, substituting Federation Standard Vulcan for Kryptonian.  Refer to (You need to Login or Register to view media files and links).

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« Last Edit: Mar 4th, 2009 at 11:30pm by Mr. Beeto »  
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