Tracker

Lois walked into the student pilots' lounge at Ferris Air.

"You lookin' for Hal?" a voice said from across the room.
Lois turned to see Jill "Cowgirl" Pearlman sitting on the couch, her wide-brimmed cowboy hat tilted upwards on her head.
"Um... yeah.  How'd you know?" Lois asked.
Jill gave her a knowing grin.  "You ain't the first girl to come by here lookin' for 'im."

Hal suddenly came around the corner of the adjacent door.  "Lois!  Sorry; I... uh... had to finish something up.  You wanna get out of here?"
"Um... okay?" she replied, slightly confused.

Hal waved goodbye to Jill and walked out with Lois.  As they walked down the hall, he leaned over to whisper in her ear.  "So... um... we should go someplace.  Someplace without cameras everywhere."
Lois nodded.  "Okay.  Let's get lunch."
"Great.  Oh, and could we take your car?"
"Um, sure. Why?"
"Mine... kinda got wrecked last week.  Mostly not my fault."

Lois sighed and rolled her eyes.  She was beginning to understand why Diana had dumped him.


Ten minutes later, they sat at a diner.  For some reason–beyond the comprehension of most every girl he ever dated–Hal loved retro-style diners.  Something about the all-American atmosphere and the unabashed midwestern spirit appealed to him.

"So, what is it exactly that you wanted to talk to me about?" Lois asked.
Hal leaned in.  "Okay, so you remember how Lionel walked into the base that one day and literally said he'd own the place pretty soon?"
"Yeah.  He tends to say that about everything.  What about it?"
"Well..." Hal reached into his pocket. "I found this on the underside of one of the planes in the hangar yesterday."
Hal held up a quarter-sized metallic circle, its center crammed with a circuitboard, a flashing LED light, and a dozen metal pins.
Lois took it from his hand and looked it over carefully.  "And it's not supposed to be there?"
Hal shrugged.  "As far as I can tell, no.  It was stuck to the bottom of the Javelin prototype, and I've read the files on that thing's systems over and over again."
Lois raised an eyebrow.  "They let you read all the files on their experimental prototype?"
"Pilots are required to read all the technical information on their planes.  They need to know what they're flying, inside and out, before they ever get in the air."
"Well, sure, but this is a prototype.  And they let a high-school student have access to its files?"
Hal awkwardly rolled his eyes.  "Well... they only gave us basic information.  The rest I managed to copy off their computer systems."
"...How?"
Hal had the slightest tinge of a proud smile. "The computers on-base aren't firewalled from each other.  I just had to get on the receptionist's desk computer and it wasn't much trouble hacking through to the main system files.  Took me about a week to get through the encryption on the blueprints, but it was worth it."
Lois was almost shocked at Hal's nonchalant attitude towards his obviously illegal actions.  She shook it off, however, and kept herself from getting distracted.  "So you think this is a Luthorcorp bug or something?" she asked.
"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking."
"So why didn't you take this to your boss?"
"Well... I, uh... I wasn't actually supposed to be in the hangar at all, let alone near the Javelin."
Lois's head slammed down into her hands.

Hal was used to these types of reactions, and patiently waited for her to look up again.
Eventually, she did.
"So what do you want me to do about it?" she asked.
"Um, actually, I don't know.  I figured that since you're a reporter and everything, you've got connections.  I mean, you hugged Lucius Fox, and the word is you're dating Bruce Wayne."
"...Okay, you've got a point.  Lemme think here..."
Lois squinted her eyes shut for a moment.
"Okay, I've got an idea. Lemme make a call.  I think I know who we can talk to."

-

"Well, it's definitely a Luthorcorp design."
"How can you tell?"
"It's got their tech design team's signature all over it, and they're one of only a few companies that use that exact metal alloy."

Hal stood back and watched as Lois and her friend looked over the device.  Lois had insisted that this fifteen-year-old kid, "Ray Palmer," was some kind of techno-supergenius-prodigy.  He had already graduated from high school, and was taking distance-learning classes from Harvard.  Lois had interviewed him once or twice for the Daily Star, and he was a nice enough guy to help her out whenever she needed information on anything relating to technology.

"You're sure?" Lois asked.
"Yeah, definitely."
"So what's it for?"
"See this, here?" Ray pointed to a tiny section of the disk's circuitboard with a pin.  "That looks like a super-miniaturized transponder.  And the rest of it looks like stuff for measuring altitude, speed, hull temperature, energy output, and whatever else. This thing is basically a really elaborate tracker.  It can tell whoever it's transmitting information to—probably Luthorcorp—exactly what's happening with the plane.  Where it is, how fast it's going, how well it's running... pretty much everything."

Lois sighed. "...wow."
"Yeah," Ray said plainly. 
"Okay, thanks, Ray." Lois said.
"No problem.  Call me if you need anything else.  Nice meeting you, Hal."
Hal waved. "You too."

As Lois and Hal left Ray's lab—which was in his parents' basement—Lois was smiling.  Hal was confused by this.
"What is it?" he asked.
She turned to him with a huge grin. "We've got 'em."