Lois drove the small hatchback through the narrow streets. Clark tried not to keep a death grip on the dashboard. He felt almost like a clown. The passenger seat was pushed back as far as it would go, and Clark still felt cramped. Lois turned right down the street the club was on. Clark looked at the club as they drove by. "You're passing it, Lois" he said.

"No, duh, Smallville" said Lois, rolling her eyes. "We pass by and park down the street. Recon then attack, the general always said."

"Uh, right" said Clark sheepishly. "So, what do we do when we get in the club? It's broad daylight and the club is closed."

Lois looked at Clark as she parked the small car. "Jeez, are you completely dense? There will probably be cleaning staff and management there. I'll flash Lucy's picture and ask some pointed questions."

Clark looked back at Lois. "So, what do I do?" he asked.

"Stand behind me and look tough" she said. "That shouldn't be too hard for a guy that can take out three armed terrorists without waking the houseguest" Lois said, raising an eyebrow.

Clark squirmed. She wasn't going to forget that, and she sure wasn't going to let it go much longer without some explanation. "Look, Lois, about those guys…"

Lois held up a hand. "Hey, farm chores keep you strong, football taught you how to hit people, blah, blah, blah. You say that you took them out. I say that a platoon of Navy SEALs might've taken them out. Which makes you, a farm raised college boy, tougher than a unit of the most elite special-ops in the world. Sure, okay, whatever."

Clark sighed and looked at the floor. "Okay, Lois, look…I really want to tell you the whole truth. I think that you can handle it, and we're good enough friends that you won't see me any different than you do now."

Lois softened. Lana Lang always thought that Clark was keeping a secret from her, and that is what eventually drove her away. "Look, there's not time now for a big soul searing confession. So, hold that thought. After we're done here, you can say anything to me you need to."

Clark nodded and they got out of the car. They crossed the street and walked the half-block to the club. Just as Clark predicted, the door was locked, but, just as Lois predicted, there were several people cleaning inside. Lois smirked and Clark rolled his eyes. Lois knocked on the door, and an old man with a mop opened it.

"Wie Gatez?" the old man asked.

"Uh, hi," said Lois. "Do you have anyone here that speaks English?"

The old man gave her a blank stare. Clark put his hand on Lois' shoulder, "let me try, Lois" he said. He turned to the old man, "Ja, meinen herr. Wo ist der manajaren?"

Lois stared at Clark, her jaw dropping open. The old man went to the back, motioning them to enter the building. "Where the hell did you learn to speak German?"

Clark looked at her. "I borrowed a dictionary from the guy you made me sit next to. You know, the one in the Grateful Dead T-shirt and FK YOU! hat."

Lois narrowed her eyes. "You mean to tell me, you learned to speak a foreign language perfectly on a nine hour plane flight by reading a book?"

"Well, technically, it only took about two hours for me to learn" said Clark. He grinned smugly, "This is one of those things that I am supposed to wait to explain to you."

Lois shook her head. "Your explanations better be outstanding, Smallville." She pointed at a younger man dressed in an expensive suit, striding toward them. "This must be the manager, let's hope he speaks English."

Hamed was one of the best in "the organization". He acquired the targets at the airport. He followed them to just outside the base, where he waited for them to emerge. Hamed was a man of faith and patience. He spent the time in his car, praying silently, thanking God for the opportunity to strike at his enemies. Hamed checked the device in the seat next to him, even though he had checked it twice already.

The device was small, about the size of a box of cigars. The surprise within was much larger than the package implied. Hamed had built it himself, using techniques he learned almost a decade ago in Afghanistan. The device was very simple, Hamed having learned long ago that simple failed less than complex. A small battery provided the power. The circuit were plain stereo wire, soldered to the radio controlled switch. Hamed had included a small electronic switch that provided a beep and a half-second delay from when he activated the device. Hamed liked to let his enemies realize that judgment was upon them. Once the delay was done, the power from the battery would move along the completed circuit, activating the electronic primer. The primer would cause a chemical reaction in the five pounds of SEMTEX plastic explosive, vaporizing the target.

Hamed saw his target leave the base, with the woman driving. How typically western. No woman had ever driven him anywhere, and no woman ever would. Hamed pulled into traffic and followed the small car, staying at least three cars behind. The couple pulled into a parking spot and got out of the car. Hamed pulled around the corner and got out his cellular phone. He called his controller, giving them the location of the woman. Hamed knew his mission. Kill the young American man very visibly, leaving the woman alone.

Hamed watched the Americans enter a nightclub, then made his move to the car. He pulled off the backing of the double sided tape, placing it quickly underneath the car on the passenger's side. Hamed retreated to a vantage point. He now had to wait for the man to get into the car without the woman. He could follow them all day, if need be.

Clark thought they were wasting their time. This metrosexual manager wasn't going to give them anything useful. Lois wasn't letting up, and the manager was getting annoyed. "Lois, this is getting us nowhere. I'm going to bring the car around" said Clark.

Lois shot him a look. "Alright. If that's how easy you're going to give up, fine!" Lois slammed the keys into Clark's hand. She turned back to the manager and began to read him the riot act.

Hamed could not believe his luck. The man was emerging from the club with the keys in his hand, and the woman was still inside. He flipped the cover to the activation button open and positioned his thumb above the stud. His eyes lit with a fierce anticipation.

Lois emerged from the club, with the manager's hand firmly on her elbow. "Get your damn hands off me!" shouted Lois. She pulled her arm from his hand and turned to look for Clark. He was in the car, starting the engine. He looked at her through the windshield. Suddenly, the sky caught on fire, and Lois fell to the ground, screaming Clark's name.