Superman: Dawnbreaker (DC Icons #4)(20)
But now he knew that was only an illusion.
The next day after school, Clark and Lana were sitting across from each other in their usual quiet room at the library. “Okay, now explain again what happened to your textbook?” Lana said, sliding her copy across the table. “You weren’t exactly clear about that on the phone.”
“Long story,” Clark said.
He hadn’t told Lana about the attempted burglary yet. He would eventually, of course, but first he needed to process it himself. Figure out if it was really just a simple robbery or if someone was targeting the Kents specifically.
And if so, why?
Lots of strange stuff had been happening in Smallville over the past several days, starting with the appearance of the man in brown, and Clark was beginning to wonder if it would get worse before it got better. He knew this: he no longer took his safety for granted in his hometown. Even on his own property. And there was no way he was going to just sit around waiting for the intruders to come back and try it again.
He was going to do something.
“I’ve got nothing else going on,” Lana said, waiting for the full story. “Why are you being so sketchy about a stupid physics textbook?”
“Forget the textbook for a second,” he told her. “Don’t you want to hear about my dinner with Bryan? I couldn’t really get into it at school with so many people around.”
She grinned and scooted her chair closer to the table. “Did you use the interview tactics I taught you?”
“Sort of.” Clark set his backpack on the floor and rolled up his sleeves. “He was pretty easy to talk to, though. I didn’t really need ‘tactics.’?”
“Oh, you naive junior reporter,” Lana said. “This entire industry is built upon the proper execution of one’s tactics.”
Clark shook his head. “My main takeaway was this: I think you’re officially wrong about the Mankins Corporation. From everything Bryan was saying, his dad is a genuinely decent guy. He’s even opening a food bank and homeless shelter down here. For people from all over Kansas. And he’s doing it anonymously.”
Lana seemed genuinely taken aback. “That’s a Mankins project?” She folded her hands and looked at the table in front of her. “Interesting. I’d heard it was linked to some big church in Metropolis.”
“Apparently Bryan’s dad does all kinds of charitable work on the down low. So you know it’s not just a publicity play.”
Lana furrowed her brow. “When was the last time you heard of a major corporation ‘hiding’ its charitable work?”
Clark shrugged. “According to Bryan, his dad thinks publicity can undermine an actual cause.”
“Yeah, okay.” Lana leaned back in her chair.
She was quiet for a long stretch, just staring at Clark with a blank look on her face. He knew this version of Lana well. She was moving chess pieces around in her head. But this time, he was, too. He suddenly remembered where he’d seen the beat-up white pickup truck. That day the football players had brawled with the man dressed in all brown. Just before the guy had carjacked the SUV and driven it into the retaining wall, he’d attacked the pickup with his bare fists while the driver cowered at the wheel inside.
Could these two incidents be related somehow?
Or was it just a coincidence?
Lana leaned forward, slapping her palms against the table. “I have an idea!”
Clark knew this excitement, too. And it usually required him to do something he didn’t want to do.
“We go ask him,” she said.
Clark frowned. “Who?”
“Montgomery Mankins.”
“You’re kidding, right?” But Clark knew she wasn’t. Lana had that look in her eyes that he knew all too well. It was the same look she’d gotten when she decided to investigate what percentage of the school budget was spent on the football program. Clark tried to reason with her. “Look, Lana, I’m pretty sure we can’t just waltz into the Mankins corporate headquarters and interview the most powerful man in Smallville.”
“Why not?”
“Because…well, he’s probably busy, for one thing.” Clark shook his head, trying to come up with other reasons. “He’s not gonna grant two random high school kids an interview right there on the spot.”
Lana started packing up her backpack with a sly grin on her face. “Clark, I’m insulted,” she said. “It’s as if you’ve never seen your best friend in action.”
“I bet they don’t even let us in the front door.”
“Watch and learn, Mr. Kent.”
* * *
—
Not fifteen minutes later an executive assistant—a young, clean-cut guy in a gray suit—emerged from a back room. Wearing a fake plastic smile, he said, “Montgomery will see you now.”
“I stand corrected,” Clark whispered as he and Lana hoisted themselves off the plush couch in the waiting room.
Lana had a cocky grin. “You never get answers if you don’t ask questions.”
Clark and Lana followed the guy into a huge corner office with floor-to-ceiling glass walls. It overlooked all of downtown Smallville. Clark had never seen such an amazing view of his hometown. The office was relatively spare, with a small seating area off to the side and a massive wooden desk in the center. It was obvious this setup was only temporary, until the company moved into its new facility.