Chapter 16
Lionel was sitting down in a chair across from Mary Burns' desk, a coffee mug in hand. Mary Burns was an elderly woman with gray, but rich, hair and few wrinkles. Lionel would have to guess that she was around fifty, maybe pushing sixty already. She had a warm smile that reminded him of a grandmother's love for her grandchildren.
Unlike most grandmothers, she wasn't predicting the weather or criticizing the shuttle bus for being five minutes late and most definitely wasn't baking cookies. She was the manager of the WayneHope facility in Ireland. WayneHope, one of the many subsidiaries of Wayne Enterprises, was dedicated to searching for cures to many of today's deadly diseases, such as AIDS.
The office was spacious, rivaling the size of Lionel's personal business sanctuary. Three of the walls were solid and bare. The fourth was behind Mary's desk – a giant window that gave a view of Ireland's magnificent countryside at night (it was about eight o'clock). A small, potted tree stood beside her desk, swaying with the air being blown out of a ventilation shaft.
After the guard had called the Head of Security, Jake Ashmore, he'd led the team to this building, and the secretary quickly set up an appointment for Lionel and Mary. Now, halfway into the meeting, Mary was explaining to Lionel that he could not get what he desired.
This annoyed him. He always got what he wanted.
"You have to understand, sir, that this plant simply cannot leave the country, at least, not in the quantity that you demand. The best I could do is give you a single flower, but even that would be difficult since your company is, well, considered a rival. Mr. Wayne may not allow it," she explained. There is another reason we can't let you have a plant. There was a theft of one, just earlier this week. When security breaches occur, we tend to get greedy and tightly hold on to what is ours."
Lionel clenched the mug tightly, as if he was afraid he would drop it. The theft, he had assumed, had gone unnoticed when he obtained it and given it to Ms. Drake to study; apparently not. "It's a matter of life and death."
"And the studies we are performing here could save lives, Mr. Luthor. For reasons I cannot disclose, the plant must be heavily studied until every secret can be unlocked to us. I'm sorry. We cannot give you a shipment of plants, like you requested."
Lionel glanced at her desk. It was empty except for the closed laptop in front of her. He looked back up at her. "You certainly don't seem to get much work done in this office, do you?"
Mary sighed, furious that the topic had been changed, yet grateful at the same time. "This office is rarely in use, but makes for a fine meeting room, like our meeting, which is over now. Good-bye, Mr. Luthor."
She got up and led Lionel out into the hall. Lionel thought she would follow him into the elevator, but she instead returned to the office and closed the door behind her.
* * *
Martha quietly wept while Jonathon paced the room back and forth, constantly rubbing his temples. She sobbed, "My poor baby... he's gone again..."
"We have to come up with an excuse for why he's not around," muttered Jonathon. "That should come first. Clark can take care of himself."
Martha looked up at Jonathon, horrorstruck. "How can you say that? He is a teenager with virtually no money and running around in a country that's probably full of the only things that can hurt him without the help of kryptonite!"
"Honey, I know. It's just that it could be worse. It has been!" urged Jonathon.
"No. When Clark was in Metropolis, at least he was only three hours away and we knew what was wrong with him. Now, he's over the ocean, maybe not even cured from that wolf bite, and – "
"...And smart enough to make the right decisions to survive. Not reckless and dangerous like when he was wearing the red kryptonite ring. I know it's hard, but we have to trust him. He may be using Lionel Luthor's help, but he's seeking to help others by getting that plant that can cure the police officers that were bitten," finished Jonathon.
Martha wiped away her tears. "What are they doing about that anyway?"
"Well of course, the National Guard didn't want to listen to anything they couldn't control, in this case, the werewolves, so Sheriff Adams ordered that they'd be locked up in the cells and that the town be evacuated immediately. None of the farmers have evacuated because they believe they can protect themselves and their livestock."
"They can't," murmured Martha. She gazed out the window before speaking to Jonathon again. "Do you think these wolves are like the ones in the movies?"
"What do you mean?"
"There's no full moon tonight."
* * *
And indeed, none of the police officers turned into their monstrous alter egos, not even after the sun had set. At around eleven o'clock, Sheriff Adams announced that they'd somehow cured themselves and called the janitor to come up from his house and release them.
But she was only partially right. While yes, they wouldn't transform into the wolf anytime that month, they were by no means "cured".
* * *
Lionel returned to the helicopter several hours later with obvious defeat painted across his face. Sgt. Willows walked up to him to question him. "What happened? Why won't they let us gather some of their plants?"
"It seems that WayneHope is strictly prohibiting the export of any of these flowers until they find the cure they desire," explained Lionel.
"And they won't find it," announced a voice from a few feet away. The figure stepped into the light from the flashlights carried by the soldiers.
"Who are you?" asked Sgt. Willows.
The figure wore a cloak, complete with a hood that covered his head and shadowed his face. "Not important. I wish to help you. The so-called miracle plant is ONLY good for curing those afflicted by the wolf bite. That is all. But because of all the proteins and the amphetamines and God knows what else they may have found, they think they can get the plant to cure anything."
"But it can't?"
The hooded man shook his head. "No. It cannot."
Sgt. Willows looked up at the night sky, then back at the man. "What are you doing out here, it's almost midnight."
"Indeed, but I have no where else to be, at least not at the moment. If you want help, I am the one to whom you should speak. For you see, I have a brother that was bitten by a wolf and I wish to help him. I, too, require one of the plants you seek. Though Wayne's men think they own them all, there is an area of land that they do not own full of the flowers. I will lead them to you if you wish. I only require one to save my brother."
"How do you know it is the plant we're after?" asked Lionel.
The hooded man held his hand, "I admit; I eavesdropped. And from your tone of voice, I deduced that there was no other plant that you could possibly want to get your hands on."
"Then show us the way," ordered Lionel.
"Hold it, I'm calling the shots. You are damn lucky we've waited for you this long, but it's about time we got home. This helicopter is considered stolen at this point."
The soldiers looked at each other as the realization sunk in. Lionel noted their expressions and calmed them down. "Don't worry, I'll talk to the people in charge. No one here will be discharged. You were only following orders."
One soldier, a comparatively skinny man with brown hair, spoke up, "Oh yeah? Well, why are we? What the hell are we doing here anyway?"
Lionel sighed, "How many times must I explain? The town of Smallville has been invaded by what I can only describe as werewolves. The problem is, they are also legal citizens of the United States, and so they must be cured, not killed. We are here to get the plant that can cure them!"
Another soldier spoke up as well; this one was blond. "Since when has the Luthor's ever been so altruistic? What's your ulterior motive?"
Lionel repressed a chuckle. "My son is one of them. And at this point, I don't know if he's been cured or not. I'll clear up this mess, friends. Just follow my lead."
Willows looked up at him doubtfully. He added, "Or I'll have you all discharged from the Guard, the Army, the Marines, or wherever else your services can be accepted to protect the country. Then I'll have you blacklisted."
The hooded man chuckled, "You do have a way with them, I see. Anyway, it is best to remain at your helicopter for the night. There are still wolves around, and you must wait until morning, when they go to sleep."
"Why don't you take off your hood?" asked Willows.
The man shrugged. "It's chilly. I wouldn't want to catch a cold."
Moments later, the man backed away and disappeared into the night.
Lionel was sitting down in a chair across from Mary Burns' desk, a coffee mug in hand. Mary Burns was an elderly woman with gray, but rich, hair and few wrinkles. Lionel would have to guess that she was around fifty, maybe pushing sixty already. She had a warm smile that reminded him of a grandmother's love for her grandchildren.
Unlike most grandmothers, she wasn't predicting the weather or criticizing the shuttle bus for being five minutes late and most definitely wasn't baking cookies. She was the manager of the WayneHope facility in Ireland. WayneHope, one of the many subsidiaries of Wayne Enterprises, was dedicated to searching for cures to many of today's deadly diseases, such as AIDS.
The office was spacious, rivaling the size of Lionel's personal business sanctuary. Three of the walls were solid and bare. The fourth was behind Mary's desk – a giant window that gave a view of Ireland's magnificent countryside at night (it was about eight o'clock). A small, potted tree stood beside her desk, swaying with the air being blown out of a ventilation shaft.
After the guard had called the Head of Security, Jake Ashmore, he'd led the team to this building, and the secretary quickly set up an appointment for Lionel and Mary. Now, halfway into the meeting, Mary was explaining to Lionel that he could not get what he desired.
This annoyed him. He always got what he wanted.
"You have to understand, sir, that this plant simply cannot leave the country, at least, not in the quantity that you demand. The best I could do is give you a single flower, but even that would be difficult since your company is, well, considered a rival. Mr. Wayne may not allow it," she explained. There is another reason we can't let you have a plant. There was a theft of one, just earlier this week. When security breaches occur, we tend to get greedy and tightly hold on to what is ours."
Lionel clenched the mug tightly, as if he was afraid he would drop it. The theft, he had assumed, had gone unnoticed when he obtained it and given it to Ms. Drake to study; apparently not. "It's a matter of life and death."
"And the studies we are performing here could save lives, Mr. Luthor. For reasons I cannot disclose, the plant must be heavily studied until every secret can be unlocked to us. I'm sorry. We cannot give you a shipment of plants, like you requested."
Lionel glanced at her desk. It was empty except for the closed laptop in front of her. He looked back up at her. "You certainly don't seem to get much work done in this office, do you?"
Mary sighed, furious that the topic had been changed, yet grateful at the same time. "This office is rarely in use, but makes for a fine meeting room, like our meeting, which is over now. Good-bye, Mr. Luthor."
She got up and led Lionel out into the hall. Lionel thought she would follow him into the elevator, but she instead returned to the office and closed the door behind her.
* * *
Martha quietly wept while Jonathon paced the room back and forth, constantly rubbing his temples. She sobbed, "My poor baby... he's gone again..."
"We have to come up with an excuse for why he's not around," muttered Jonathon. "That should come first. Clark can take care of himself."
Martha looked up at Jonathon, horrorstruck. "How can you say that? He is a teenager with virtually no money and running around in a country that's probably full of the only things that can hurt him without the help of kryptonite!"
"Honey, I know. It's just that it could be worse. It has been!" urged Jonathon.
"No. When Clark was in Metropolis, at least he was only three hours away and we knew what was wrong with him. Now, he's over the ocean, maybe not even cured from that wolf bite, and – "
"...And smart enough to make the right decisions to survive. Not reckless and dangerous like when he was wearing the red kryptonite ring. I know it's hard, but we have to trust him. He may be using Lionel Luthor's help, but he's seeking to help others by getting that plant that can cure the police officers that were bitten," finished Jonathon.
Martha wiped away her tears. "What are they doing about that anyway?"
"Well of course, the National Guard didn't want to listen to anything they couldn't control, in this case, the werewolves, so Sheriff Adams ordered that they'd be locked up in the cells and that the town be evacuated immediately. None of the farmers have evacuated because they believe they can protect themselves and their livestock."
"They can't," murmured Martha. She gazed out the window before speaking to Jonathon again. "Do you think these wolves are like the ones in the movies?"
"What do you mean?"
"There's no full moon tonight."
* * *
And indeed, none of the police officers turned into their monstrous alter egos, not even after the sun had set. At around eleven o'clock, Sheriff Adams announced that they'd somehow cured themselves and called the janitor to come up from his house and release them.
But she was only partially right. While yes, they wouldn't transform into the wolf anytime that month, they were by no means "cured".
* * *
Lionel returned to the helicopter several hours later with obvious defeat painted across his face. Sgt. Willows walked up to him to question him. "What happened? Why won't they let us gather some of their plants?"
"It seems that WayneHope is strictly prohibiting the export of any of these flowers until they find the cure they desire," explained Lionel.
"And they won't find it," announced a voice from a few feet away. The figure stepped into the light from the flashlights carried by the soldiers.
"Who are you?" asked Sgt. Willows.
The figure wore a cloak, complete with a hood that covered his head and shadowed his face. "Not important. I wish to help you. The so-called miracle plant is ONLY good for curing those afflicted by the wolf bite. That is all. But because of all the proteins and the amphetamines and God knows what else they may have found, they think they can get the plant to cure anything."
"But it can't?"
The hooded man shook his head. "No. It cannot."
Sgt. Willows looked up at the night sky, then back at the man. "What are you doing out here, it's almost midnight."
"Indeed, but I have no where else to be, at least not at the moment. If you want help, I am the one to whom you should speak. For you see, I have a brother that was bitten by a wolf and I wish to help him. I, too, require one of the plants you seek. Though Wayne's men think they own them all, there is an area of land that they do not own full of the flowers. I will lead them to you if you wish. I only require one to save my brother."
"How do you know it is the plant we're after?" asked Lionel.
The hooded man held his hand, "I admit; I eavesdropped. And from your tone of voice, I deduced that there was no other plant that you could possibly want to get your hands on."
"Then show us the way," ordered Lionel.
"Hold it, I'm calling the shots. You are damn lucky we've waited for you this long, but it's about time we got home. This helicopter is considered stolen at this point."
The soldiers looked at each other as the realization sunk in. Lionel noted their expressions and calmed them down. "Don't worry, I'll talk to the people in charge. No one here will be discharged. You were only following orders."
One soldier, a comparatively skinny man with brown hair, spoke up, "Oh yeah? Well, why are we? What the hell are we doing here anyway?"
Lionel sighed, "How many times must I explain? The town of Smallville has been invaded by what I can only describe as werewolves. The problem is, they are also legal citizens of the United States, and so they must be cured, not killed. We are here to get the plant that can cure them!"
Another soldier spoke up as well; this one was blond. "Since when has the Luthor's ever been so altruistic? What's your ulterior motive?"
Lionel repressed a chuckle. "My son is one of them. And at this point, I don't know if he's been cured or not. I'll clear up this mess, friends. Just follow my lead."
Willows looked up at him doubtfully. He added, "Or I'll have you all discharged from the Guard, the Army, the Marines, or wherever else your services can be accepted to protect the country. Then I'll have you blacklisted."
The hooded man chuckled, "You do have a way with them, I see. Anyway, it is best to remain at your helicopter for the night. There are still wolves around, and you must wait until morning, when they go to sleep."
"Why don't you take off your hood?" asked Willows.
The man shrugged. "It's chilly. I wouldn't want to catch a cold."
Moments later, the man backed away and disappeared into the night.