Cross Fire

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Cross Fire Page 7

by Michael Kogge


  “Lois, I’m not that different. My appetite’s the same as everyone else’s.”

  She shook her head. “Is your X-ray vision that bad?”

  “What?” He followed her gaze to the pizzeria. A neon sign on the window read CLOSED. “Oh. I am late.”

  “By like an hour,” she said.

  He looked about. “There should be a food truck around here.”

  “We don’t have time for that. We’ll grab a coffee at the diner. We’ve got too much work to do to get this in by tomorrow’s deadline.” She flapped the notepad closed, then walked down the street.

  Puzzled, Clark followed. “We? That’s my story, Lois!”

  She frowned at him. “You going to write about yourself?”

  He blanked for a moment, then adjusted his glasses. “I was going to write about Doctor Aesop.”

  “The story’s not about Doctor Aesop. It’s about Superman saving a boy and his mother from Doctor Aesop. You said so yourself.”

  He hesitated. By intervening, he had made Superman the story. He had no regrets about it, though he didn’t want to come back to Perry White empty-handed. “Well, what about the interview? Can’t we publish that?”

  “I’ll use it as background. Don’t worry, I’ll acknowledge your contribution,” she said with a wink.

  The diner shone ahead. Some insomniacs could be seen sitting at tables through the window. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t have gotten involved,” Clark said.

  “Quite the contrary,” Lois said. “I think you’re a hero. You sacrificed writing the lead article in tomorrow’s edition for saving people’s lives. I wish I could do that.”

  “Yeah, but it won’t save me from White.”

  She leaned her back into the door of the diner, opening it. “You still have that blog article to write on the telethon, don’t you?”

  Clark sighed. Even he would need coffee. It was going to be a long night.

  Located in Metropolis, the Hotel Grand Lux subscribed solely to the Daily Planet, so that’s what the server gave to Bruce Wayne. He sat at a table in the hotel’s five-star restaurant, waiting for his lunch date. If Miss Crane, the real estate developer who had won the telethon bid, did not come within the next ten minutes, Bruce was free to go.

  To pass the time, Bruce glanced at the headline of the morning paper, and a smirk came to his lips:

  SUPERMAN SAVES BOY AND MOTHER FROM MAD SCIENTIST

  The article by Lois Lane detailed Superman’s rescue in Gotham City of Rory and Amelia Greeley from their closest of kin, a fugitive of Arkham Asylum, Doctor Babrius Aesop. Nowhere did the text mention Batman or how he defeated the drones and hauled Doctor Babrius Aesop back to Arkham. The only other name referenced in the article was a credit to “Clark Kent” for additional reporting.

  “I’d let it go, Master Wayne,” said a voice with a British accent. “You don’t do this for publicity.”

  Bruce lowered the paper. Alfred sat down across from him. “Looks like Crane canceled, thank goodness.”

  Alfred gestured for the server to come over. “Might I have some English breakfast tea, with milk? And a menu, too?”

  The server went into the kitchen. Bruce folded the paper and dropped it on the table. “You’re going to make me sit here while you drink and eat?”

  Alfred unveiled a sly smile. “I won’t be the full two hours.”

  Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’re Miss Crane?”

  “The phone operator may have mistaken my accented miss for mister, but if you remember, Crane is my middle name.”

  The server returned with tea and a menu. “Cheers,” Alfred said.

  Bruce stared at Alfred as the gentleman sipped his tea and browsed the menu. “How much did you spend on me?”

  “You have your secrets, Master Wayne, and I have mine. But as I mentioned before, it has been a while since the two of us lunched,” Alfred said. “What better way to arrange it than by assisting those families who suffered so greatly in the attack?”

  “You’re a good man, Alfred Pennyworth.”

  “It goes with the company.” Alfred held out the menu. “I recommend the paniki stew. It’s delicious.”

  Bruce waved off the menu. “That’s what I’ll have,” he told the server.

  The two lunched, enjoying a stay for much longer than two hours.

  So many people attended the Metropolis-Gotham City Young Engineers’ Challenge that the organizers had to move the event out of the gymnasium into a parking lot. Even then, it was hard to get a glimpse of the action. Students of all ages from both cities demonstrated their technical prowess by showing off what they had designed and built. Among the most applauded projects on display were a battery-operated pet groomer, a lawn sprinkler that used collected rainwater, and an entertainment-exercise bike that powered a television while the rider pedaled away calories.

  Rory was nervous that his project didn’t match up with these other projects. But Miss Paiva didn’t seem concerned. And his mother smiled the entire time. So he stood on the sidelines, watching and waiting for the inevitable.

  “Next up we have Rory Greeley of Lewis Wilson Middle School!” called a judge. “Come join us in the ring and strut your stuff, young man!”

  Rory took a deep breath, received a pat on his back from his mom, and then walked out. His project walked with him.

  The judge, a lady who was a science teacher at another school, held out a microphone for Rory to speak into. “Tell us a little about your project,” she said.

  “Well …” The microphone squealed. Rory winced at the noise. A happy look from his mother kept him going. “I … originally designed a flying drone. But I ended up working with a friend on a model that had more personality.”

  “Does it do any tricks?” the judge asked.

  “Arr-Eee-Two, sit,” Rory said.

  RE-2, a robotic dog cobbled together from a shoebox, a jewelry case, and paper-towel-roll tubes, bent its cardboard legs to squat on the ground. A plastic tongue darted out of its mouth and fake eyeballs rolled around on its head.

  “Arr-Eee-Two, come.”

  The dog raised its legs and waddled over to him.

  “So much more obedient than my Chihuahua,” the judge said. “Can I trade?”

  The audience of parents and students laughed. The dog’s internal speaker woofed in response. It wagged its tail.

  “Sorry,” Rory said. “This model’s taken.”

  Standing beside his mother and Miss Paiva were Ajay, his lunch buddies, Mina, and Ellie. She was looking at Rory and smiling.

  Rory wasn’t upset when he didn’t win a prize that day. He had all he needed.

  It was break time at Arkham. The other patients played badminton or cards. Aesop avoided everyone and sat by himself in the yard.

  His beard and hair had grown out, and he wore asylum scrubs instead of the lab coat. Since he had destroyed the hard disks with his records, he was forced to undergo a battery of medical and psychological tests again. The doctors had declared him in prime physical health, with no lung damage from the smoke, yet he felt worse than ever. He had been so close to getting his revenge, yet he had failed so utterly. He doubted he would ever get over it.

  Jackalope bounded over to him. “Doctor Aesop! You’re back!”

  He sneered at the button-nosed, buck-toothed, antler-headed lunatic. “Go away.”

  “Why? You came back for Jack! Now Jack forgives you!” Jackalope bounced from one foot to the other. “Can you tell Jack a story?”

  “I’m out of stories.”

  Jackalope blinked his wide eyes. “You’re out of stories?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Then let me tell you one,” Jackalope said. “There once was a bat who was snatched by a weasel …”

  Aesop buried his head in his hands. The stories that had once been a comfort to him now only reminded him of his failures. And with Jack at his side, he would be reliving those failures over and over for the rest of
his life. It seemed that Aesop had been wrong: Not all bad situations turned good.

  Born on the faraway planet of Krypton, Superman uses his alien powers to fight for the people of Earth.

  When Superman isn’t fighting crime, he works for a newspaper called the Daily Planet as Clark Kent.

  Clark’s editor, Perry White, is always on the lookout for the next big story.

  Lois Lane also works at the Daily Planet as an award-winning reporter.

  When Clark takes to the skies as Superman, he is always ready to help people in need.

  Many people look up to Superman for saving so many people.

  But some people worry that Superman could be dangerous.

  Batman is also a crime fighter. He has vowed to protect the people of Gotham City.

  Batman is a man named Bruce Wayne, and he does not have superpowers like Superman. Instead, he uses gadgets to defeat villains.

  Batman keeps one step ahead of his enemies by constantly developing new gadgets in his Batcave.

  Batman’s confidant, Alfred, is always there to help Batman when he needs it.

  Batman and Alfred use high-end technology to help them analyze evidence and solve crimes.

  The Batcave not only stores Batman’s gadgets and Batsuit, but also Batman’s greatest weapon against crime: the Batmobile.

  With such a powerful arsenal, Batman is ready to take on any villain.

  MICHAEL KOGGE’s other recent work includes Empire of the Wolf, an epic graphic novel featuring werewolves in Rome, and the junior novel adaptation for Star Wars: The Force Awakens, along with the Star Wars Rebels series of chapter books. He resides online at MichaelKogge.com, while his real home is located in Los Angeles.

 

 

 


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