The Supergirl of Smallville by Team Acenaut --------------------------------------------- DOWNLOADED FROM http://www.superwomenmania.com/storybank --------------------------------------------- Chapter 10 Lana paused in the doorway, surveying the crowded interior of the Diamond Bar. A huddle of men at a nearby table turned to stare at her, squinting through a haze of cigarette smoke at the two figures silhouetted against the light from Tony's office -- the shapely girl in the short skirt and boots, and the stocky, disheveled man she was holding up by the back of his collar. Other customers began looking up from the pool table or from their glasses of beer, and within a few moments the bar was silent except for the strains of a Hank Williams song pouring from the jukebox. Lana was conscious of the scrutiny of several dozen pairs of eyes -- some puzzled, some amused, some leering. "Jeez, I didn't know Tony was into that kinky stuff," snickered a customer at the far end of the bar. Lana took a step forward. She just wanted to get out of the Diamond Bar as quickly as possible, to get away from its noise and reek and unpleasant atmosphere. She wanted to deliver M. D'Amato to the Shelbyville police and then put this depressing town behind her. But before she could take another step, Tony squirmed in her grip. "Listen, you mugs!" he bellowed. "This ain't no joke! This chick is some kind of circus freak! She broke my desk in two and she ripped open my safe like it was cardboard! I don't know what kind of dope she's taking or what her story is, but I'm telling you, she ain't human!" He took a deep breath. "A thousand bucks to the guy who takes her down!" The snickers died down and the grins faded. A dozen men were already standing shoulder to shoulder, blocking the way to the front door. Brawny arms folded across their chests, they gazed down at Lana through hard, narrowed eyes, clearly intent on ? what was it Mr. D'Amato had said? -- "taking her down" ... Uh-oh, she thought, careful not to avert her eyes. So much for getting out of here quietly. She lifted her chin defiantly. Just walk toward the door, she told herself. They're just a bunch of overgrown bullies. Show them you're not afraid of them, and they'll back down ... I hope ... Looking straight ahead, ignoring the men closing in from all sides, she stepped forward ... Suddenly a pool cue was pressing against her throat, bending as a pair of beefy hands pulled on it from behind her. Lana felt a knee digging into the small of her back; she heard its owner grunting with effort, and smelled the cheap whiskey on his breath. The cue bent back, cracking under the strain, until it snapped in two and her attacker stumbled backward, knocking down several of his comrades who were eagerly pressing toward Lana from behind. Men were closing in, grabbing her arms, clutching her waist, tugging at her hair and cape. A massive fist landed squarely on her jaw, and a howl of pain rose above the angry roar that filled the room. Lana's free arm swung back, bowling over half a dozen of her assailants; she swung her other arm in a wide arc, using Tony as a flail to knock down half a dozen more. This is getting out of hand, Lana thought desperately. I'd better put a stop to this before somebody gets seriously hurt. "Listen to me!" she shouted, in a voice that pierced the roar of the mob and rattled the bottles and glasses on the bar. Stunned, the mob fell silent. Lana raised her arm, dangling Tony like a fisherman displaying a prize catch. "Listen to me," she repeated. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm taking Mr. D'Amato out of here. Well, I'm afraid I have some shocking news for you. Mr. D'Amato isn't what you think he is. He pretends to be an honest businessman -- but he's not! He's a crook!" Tony's jowls flapped as Lana gave him a vigorous shake. "That's right! You may not believe me, but it's true! And I have proof! Mr. D'Amato is nothing more than a -- a common criminal!" Lana saw that her words were having an effect. Jaws dropped, eyes widened, glances were exchanged ... and then the bar erupted into loud, raucous laughter. "No!" wailed a customer in mock consternation. "Say it ain't so, Tony!" shouted another. "I am shocked -- shocked!" cried a third. Lana looked around the bar in astonishment. Men were doubled over with laughter, wiping tears of mirth from their eyes, clutching their sides and slapping their knees. Over the roar of merriment she heard a mocking voice: "What planet are you from, doll-face?" Lana narrowed her eyes. "Hmpf!" she snapped. "I guess this isn't news to any of you, after all. Well, good -- because it'll come as no surprise that I'm taking Mr. D'Amato to the police!" "What are you mugs laughing for?" Tony shouted hoarsely. "I don't care how you do it, but take her down! Two thou -- no, five thousand bucks to anyone who puts this chick on ice!" A man rose to his feet. He was a powerfully built man with a crooked nose and a scar running raggedly across his left cheek, and when he held up a hand for silence, the laughter stopped abruptly. "Look, miss," he said gruffly. "Let the boss go and you can leave without nobody getting hurt. But if you don't -- well, we will do what he just said." A grim silence had fallen upon the Diamond Bar. With her x-ray vision, Lana could see hands reaching into pockets for knives and blackjacks. Men were slipping on brass knuckles and grasping the necks of whiskey bottles, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bartender take a shotgun from behind the counter. Lana glanced toward the ceiling, wondering if she should leap up and smash through it, dragging Tony behind her ... when a wooden chair came crashing down against her shoulders and splintered into fragments. Lana spun round. Men were rushing at her from all sides, brandishing weapons, shouting wildly like a crowd at a boxing match. Lana's heat vision made the blade of a knife glow red-hot as it fell from its owner's hand; a slash of her fingernail tore open the leather casing of a blackjack and emptied its contents on the floor. A beer bottle came flying from the direction of the bar and shattered against her forehead. Shards of glass flew in all directions as the amber liquid splashed down the front of her costume. Lana grimaced. Ewwww! She looked around angrily. "All right," she demanded. "Who threw that?" But before anyone could reply, Lana heard a plangent clang right behind her, accompanied by a yelp of surprise and pain. She turned around. A pudgy, unshaven man in a New York Yankees cap was staring incredulously at the bent and twisted length of metal -- once a crowbar -- that he was clutching in both hands like a baseball bat. "Holy Toledo," he stammered. "What's this chick made of -- steel?" That does it! thought Lana. Time to go on the offensive. Turning toward the front door, she pursed her lips and blew a jet of super- breath across the bar. The men facing her tumbled over like so many bowling pins. Eddies of sawdust and peanut shells and cigarette butts rose from the floor as the powerful wind rushed toward the front wall, then rebounded and swept along the sides of the room, knocking the liquor bottles from the shelf behind the bar and tearing caps off heads. Men dove for cover or lay flat on their faces as the blast howled over them. Chairs and tables rose eerily from the floor, smashing against the walls, crashing into the lights. Lana stood unflinching in the whirlwind as it tousled her hair and tugged at her cape and stirred the hem of her skirt. "There's a tear in my beer -- " A barstool flew across the bar and impaled the jukebox, silencing Hank Williams's lugubrious croon. The blast died down as suddenly as it had burst from Lana's lips. Lana smoothed her hair and surveyed the wreckage. Her attackers lay everywhere, too frightened to move, amid broken glass and shattered furniture. Fat Tony had collapsed whimpering at Lana's feet. Lana picked him up by the back of his collar and began dragging him, limp and unresisting, toward the front door. Broken glass crunched beneath her boots as she strode to the door, and a few men groaned softly as they began to sit up, nursing their bruises, but otherwise the room was silent. So Lana hardly needed her super-hearing to register the sharp metallic click that suddenly rang out behind her. She turned -- and found herself staring down the twin barrels of a shotgun. She looked up. The bartender was eyeing her narrowly from behind the counter, with the shotgun raised to his shoulder and his finger resting on the trigger. "Stop right -- " The words came out in a high-pitched squeak. He cleared his throat and started over. "Stop right there." His voice was back in the baritone range, but he couldn't quite suppress a nervous quaver. "Who's going to pay for this damage?" Lana's eyebrows rose. "Not me!" she said indignantly. "Why don't you ask your customers? They started it." She began to turn back toward the front door. "Hold it right there!" His voice cracked again. "I'm warning you. Put Mr. D'Amato down or I'll -- " "You'll what? Shoot?" Lana rolled her eyes. "You haven't figured it out, have you? I'm invulnerable. Do you know what that means? It means I can't be hurt -- not by anything ... and certainly not by that pop-gun!" She reached out with her free hand and grabbed the shotgun by its barrels. "Whoa!" sputtered the bartender. "I'm warning you -- " Lana yanked the shotgun toward herself, pulling the trigger against the bartender's finger ... A loud bang shattered the silence of the room and echoed from its walls. The bartender let go of the shotgun and jumped back, his face ashen. He couldn't see the slugs bounce off Lana's chest, but he heard one of them whiz past his ear. Another one ricocheted into the mirror behind the bar, splintering it into a dozen jagged shards that fell to the littered floor in a loud, prolonged crash. Lana let go of Tony and stood grasping the barrels of the shotgun in both hands. "Now I 'm warning you," she said. She began bending and twisting the shotgun as she spoke. "My name is Supergirl, and I suggest that you remember it. It's my duty to protect law-abiding citizens from crooks like Mr. D'Amato -- and from those who associate with them. So in the future, don't interfere when I'm trying to do my job." She laid the shotgun on the counter. Its barrels had been tied in a neat overhand knot. "And here's a little souvenir to remind you of that!" She turned and strode confidently out the front door, dragging Tony behind her. Stan came out from his hiding place behind the counter, brushing sawdust from his corduroy jacket. He had taken cover as soon as the fighting had begun, peering cautiously over the countertop to gaze in wonder at the most amazing female he had ever seen. Eyes bulging, he watched her walk away from the counter and toward the front door, mesmerized by her firm calves, her shapely thighs, the rhythm of her hips and the swish of her short skirt. "What a knockout!" he said with a grin. "Ain't she something? I think I'm in love!" "Careful, Stan," said the bartender. "I know, I know -- sixteen will get me twenty." "Are you kidding? With that little fireball, sixteen will get you killed!" ---------- Lana breathed a sigh of relief as the door swung shut behind her. The late-afternoon sunlight was a wholesome change from the smoky atmosphere of the Diamond Bar. Tightening her grip on Tony's collar, she was about to spring upward and fly off toward the police station when she heard the wail of a siren. A patrol car drew up in front of the tavern and two policemen scrambled out, staring at the redheaded teenager and her disheveled captive. "Good evening, officers," said Lana. "I'm sure you recognize Mr. D'Amato. Well, you can arrest him on charges of extortion, racketeering, and bribery. All the proof you need is right here in this ledger -- and there's plenty more where that came from!" There was an awkward silence as the policemen exchanged uneasy glances. "Er -- no need to thank me, officers," said Lana, hauling Tony up onto his feet and pushing him forward. "Just doing my duty!" "You heard the lady," Tony muttered, scowling at the policemen. He raised an eyebrow meaningfully. "Better do as she says." He put his wrists together and held out his arms. "Uh ... right," said the older of the two policemen. He took out a pair of handcuffs and slipped them around Tony's wrists, while Lana handed the ledger to his partner. "Uh ... thanks, miss," said the older policemen. "We can take it from here." "All right, then!" chirped Lana, smiling brightly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to be going." She rose several feet into the air, then placed her hands on her hips and looked down at the astonished policemen. "And if you ever need my help, just call Chief Parker in Smallville and ask for ... Supergirl!" Turning, she raised her arms and flew off. "I don't believe it," said the older policeman, staring after the blue-and-red-garbed figure. "Some of the guys at the station were talking about her, but we figured it was just one of those crazy stories -- like that spaceship that crashed on some farmer's property about fifteen years back." "Yeah," said his partner. "Or that monster in Strawberry Lake. Uh -- you okay, Mr. D'Amato?" "I'll live," growled Tony. "But you two had better take me back to the station with you. I want to know what the boys have heard about this so-called Supergirl." ---------- High in the air, halfway between Shelbyville and Smallville, Lana put on a burst of super-speed. Faster and faster she flew, zig- zagging back and forth, until air friction created an incandescent orange glow around her body, burning off the beer and liquor that clung to her hair and costume, removing all trace of the cigarette smell that she carried with her. But she still felt as if the atmosphere of the Diamond Bar was clinging to her. What she wanted was a bath. She toyed with the idea of a quick dip in an active volcano, or a plunge into an erupting geyser ... or maybe a nice long bubble-bath in the tub at home, using her heat-vision to keep the water at a rolling boil? Glancing down, she saw Strawberry Lake directly below her, reflecting blue sky and white clouds on its placid surface. No one was fishing or boating at the moment; it looked like a perfect spot for a nice refreshing swim. Lana extended her arms straight before her and dove down at a steep angle. The tips of her outstretched fingers broke the smooth surface of the lake, and the next moment she plunged through, so deftly that she left only the faintest of ripples behind her. It was dim below the surface -- not the unpleasant smoky dimness of the bar, but a lovely blue iridescent dimness. Delighted, she looked around her -- at a cluster of silvery minnows, at water- plants undulating in the subtle currents, at shafts of late- afternoon sunlight slanting down into the lake's depths. Her red hair drifted about her face as she rolled over and gazed up at the clouds, turned violet by the layers of water. She allowed her body to rise slowly and gently break the surface. She spread her arms and lay drifting, enjoying the water's delicious cool embrace. Swallows were dipping and soaring on the afternoon thermals; a heron rose from a thicket of reeds with a loud flapping of its wings; and turning her head, Lana saw a doe and fawn emerge from the woods and step delicately to the lake's edge to drink. The Diamond Bar seemed like a distant memory now. Lana rose above the lake and spun around, flinging drops of water in every direction until she was dry. Pleased with her day's work, she flew off to Smallville, working out a suitably edited version of her activities for her mother's benefit. And I'll see Chief Parker first thing tomorrow morning, she thought. Wait till he hears how I saved his brother-in-law AND got the goods on Fat Tony! ---------- Chief Parker was rummaging around in the top drawer of his desk. "I'm sorry, Supergirl," he said. "I can't seem to find the bottle opener -- " "That's okay, Chief." Lana slid her thumbnail under the cap of the Coca-Cola bottle and pushed upward. The cap went spinning toward the ceiling. She caught it in her free hand and dropped it into the wastebasket by Chief Parker's desk. Chief Parker smiled. "That must come in handy at picnics." He filled a chipped coffee cup from the pot on the burner and stirred in a spoonful of sugar. He sat down and waved his hand at one of the chairs facing his desk. "Well," he began, as Supergirl sat down. "First of all, I want to thank you again for looking after Jimmy. If you hadn't shown up ... well, goodness knows what those two goons might have done to him." "Happy to help." Lana lowered her eyes modestly, but inwardly she was beaming with pride. "I hope he's okay now." "I hope so, too. He called me last night. He's on his way to Kansas City, to join his wife and kids." "But he'll be back, right? To testify against those two men?" Chief Parker shook his head. "I doubt it. I'm guessing he just wants to put this whole thing behind him." "But those men are still going to jail, right?" Chief Parker gazed thoughtfully at Supergirl for a few moments. "I'm afraid not," he said. Supergirl's eyes widened. "Why not? They were going to beat Mr. Whelan." "That's right. They were going to. You stopped them -- thank goodness. But they can't be charged with an assault they didn't commit." "But Mr. Stroud confessed!" "While you were dangling him by his shirt five hundred feet above the ground. Under those circumstances, I would have confessed to kidnapping the Lindberg baby." Lana 's heart sank. This conversation was not going the way she had imagined. "But we've got their boss, right? Mr. D'Amato? We've got plenty of evidence to send him to jail, don't we?" Chief Parker continued to gaze steadily into Supergirl's eyes. "No," he said gently, almost apologetically. "I'm afraid not." "What do you mean?" Supergirl had risen from her chair, her eyes flashing with indignation. "What about those ledgers I took from his safe?" Chief Parker was careful not to avert his gaze. "Please, Supergirl -- sit down." Pouting, Lana sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. Chief Parker cleared his throat. "Law enforcement isn't like what you see on Dragnet and The Untouchables," he explained. "There are rules the police have to abide by, and laws that protect everyone's rights -- even criminals'. What you did in Tony's office -- I know your intentions were good, but ... well, you were the one breaking the law." "Huh?" Lana was too surprised to be angry. "Me? What you mean?" "Trespassing, destruction of property, assault ... " "But Mr. D'Amato is the criminal -- not me! He's a crook -- a racketeer!" "I know. But like I said -- our laws protect everyone's rights. You didn't catch him actually committing a crime, you had no legal standing -- no badge, no warrant -- " "Those ledgers -- " "Were they in plain view?" "To me they were. I've got x-ray vision." Chief Parker's eyebrows rose. A corner of his mustache turned up as he chuckled softly. "I bet the lawyers would have fun batting that one around." But Lana was not amused. "Mary Marvel -- " She blushed. "You know -- from the comic books?" Chief Parker nodded. "My son used to read those. Captain Marvel's sister, right?" "Right. She never worried about stuff like that. She just beat up the bad guys and dragged them off to jail." "So she did. But we're not in a comic book." Supergirl grinned ruefully. "I guess I messed up, didn't I?" "Let's say you made a few rookie mistakes -- just like I did when I started walking a beat.? "So am I in trouble?" Well, I doubt that Tony will be bringing charges against you. Admitting that a teenage girl was too much for his hired muscle to handle -- that wouldn't do his reputation any good, to put it mildly." "I'm really sorry. I just wanted to help -- " "I know. And you did help. If it weren't for you, Jimmy might be lying in a hospital bed right now." Chief Parker leaned forward earnestly. "Listen. Your powers -- the things you can do -- they're pretty amazing. But you know what's even more amazing?" Supergirl shook her head. "The fact that you want to use them to help people -- to do some good in the world." He rose to refill his coffee cup. "People in my line of work can get disillusioned and cynical," he said. "I started out walking a beat in Chicago. I was an honest cop, but not a day went by that I didn't have to look the other way, to make some kind of ... compromise with my conscience. It finally got to the point where I took a job as police chief in my wife's home town -- where the biggest problem I have to deal with is teenagers drinking beer out by the lake." He sat down. "I guess what I'm saying is -- you have a -- a destiny. Smallville is lucky to have you. But the whole country needs you. The whole world needs you. So -- never lose faith in what you do. Okay?" "Gosh. That's kind of ... scary." "Oh, I can imagine. But listen. Every cop starts out by being assigned an easy beat. Just think of Smallville as your first beat, all right?" Supergirl beamed gratefully at Chief Parker. "I like that. And don't policemen have partners? Would you be my partner?" "It would be an honor." Chief Parker turned to a shelf and took down a heavy volume with a dark blue cover. REVISED STATUTES STATE OF KANSAS was stamped in gold letters on its spine. He set the book down on his desk and began thumbing its pages. "All right, partner, let's go over the rules for a citizen's arrest ... "