0 0 0
“Nigel, I assume you’ve discovered where the intrepid Ms. Lane and her sidekick have gone to ground?” Lex Luthor asked his security advisor.
Nigel St. John smiled. “Indeed I have, sir. My people followed Doctor Lane to his brother’s flat on the south side. We also found Miss Lane’s car parked several blocks away. There was blood in the interior.”
“Mister Kent’s blood, no doubt,” Lex commented with a sly smile.
“No doubt. I am surprised Myerson’s people let him survive. Apparently the Bureau’s reputation for ruthlessness was a bit exaggerated,” Nigel said. “My sources also tell me that Mister Kent’s parents are being brought in by private jet to facilitate his recovery.”
“Is this an opportunity we somehow missed?”
“I’m sure we can redeem something from the situation,” Nigel responded. “One warning, however. General Straker’s people do not take kindly to being interfered with. It will not go well should they discover our dealings with the Bureau and our acquisition of advanced alien technology.”
“Are you saying this Straker could be a threat?”
“I am saying that SHADO is a dangerous enemy to have. Their reputation for ruthlessness is not exaggerated.”
Lex considered Nigel’s statement for a long moment, weighing his options. “Pity,” he said finally. “I was so looking forward to meeting the senior Kents and rescuing the damsel in distress.” He paused, eyeing Nigel thoughtfully. “Make sure there’s nothing linking us to the Bureau. And should you locate any of Myerson’s people, be sure to let the General know. We do want to cooperate with the authorities.”
“Naturally, sir,” Nigel agreed.
0 0 0
“Eddie, what the devil’s going on?” Jonathan Kent demanded as he walked into the Daily Planet newsroom, his wife holding on to his arm. “First we get a call that Clark’s been kidnapped, then we hear Lois was taken too, then we get word they both escaped and you fly us out on a private jet?”
“Nice to see you too, Jonny, Martha,” Straker responded with a faint smile. He beckoned them to enter the conference room.
“Eddie, what’s going on?” Martha asked.
Straker ignored her question for the moment. “I’m not sure who you’ve met here. Perry White, Jimmy Olsen, the Planet; Detectives Henderson and Reed, MPD and I’m pretty sure you’ve met Alec Freeman over there,” Straker said, indicating each person in turn.
“Mister Olsen is the one who got Clark and Lois away Myerson’s base. Then, like the resourceful and completely terrified kids they are, they dumped him, ran and went to ground.” Straker paused, gauging their reactions.
Martha looked at him in wide-eyed confusion. “But they’re safe now?” she asked.
“We believe so,” Henderson answered. “At least for the time being. But Clark is very badly hurt and we believe Myerson may have the ability to kill him, even from a distance.”
“But how . . .why would anyone want to hurt Clark?” Jonathan asked.
“For the same reasons they went after him in Smallville,” Freeman answered. “They think he has information on Superman. Plus, Clark made them look like fools, twice.”
“Ed, if you know where they are, and you know these bastards are after them, why haven’t you done something?” Jonathan asked. “I assume you can do something.”
“The circumstances demand this situation be handled more delicately than normal for us,” Straker said. “Not simply because family is involved, but because we can’t use our usual tactics when dealing with someone as severely injured as we believe Clark to be, not to mention the paranoia Myerson’s techniques will have instilled in them. If we could, this would have all be over two hours ago, and the two of them would be in protective custody, probably in Smallville. That old barn of yours would make a real good sniper platform.”
Jonathan looked over at Martha, worried playing over both their faces. Jonathan was about five years older than Straker but looked much older thanks to worry and lack of sleep. Martha’s usual vivaciousness was dimmed for the same reason, her blue-gray eyes washed to almost colorlessness behind her glasses.
“What do you need us to do?” Martha asked.
0 0 0
Sam bandaged Clark’s back as best he could with what Mike had available. The two Lane men then wrestled the unconscious Clark into the bathtub, pouring ice into the already cold water as Lois stood by, watching.
Sam had already explained the process to her. The ice bath was the fastest method of getting Clark’s body temperature into the normal range before there was irreparable damage to his brain and internal organs. Sam didn’t need to tell her that chances were, the damage was already done, that whatever poison had sent Clark’s temperature into the stratosphere had most likely done it’s dirty work already. Chances were Clark would never come out of the coma he’d slipped into.
Lois sat on the edge of the tub to keep an eye on him. Unconscious, there was a good chance his head could slip under the water. He looked like he was simply asleep, but normal people didn’t sleep in bathtubs full of ice.
“Clark, I don’t know if you can hear me, but please wake up.”
0 0 0
“General,” S’vram announced over the com-unit. “I think they’ve taken the bait. Someone’s tapped into the DOD satellite surveillance system and is focusing of the south side of Metropolis. They’re using Lexcorp protocols, by the way.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Freeman commented to himself.
“Is everything else in place?”
“Yes, sir,” S’vram affirmed. “The false data stream is being fed to them and we have a ship in low orbit feeding us the real thing in real time.
Straker turned to Martha and Jonathan. “It’s nearly show time. We need to get over there.”
Traffic was surprising light for the mid-afternoon, so the journey from the Daily Planet to the American Bistro didn’t take long. Straker found a parking place in a day lot not too far from the cafe and parked the rental car.
“Miss Lane’s uncle owns the restaurant. They’re both upstairs with her father,” Straker explained as they crossed the street to the front entrance.
“And we’re just going to go in and get them?” Martha asked with more than a touch of sarcasm. Straker had given them a tactical briefing on the situation in the car. Martha had not been well pleased with his plans.
“I really wish it could be that easy,” Straker told them, leading them into the restaurant. A burly, graying man met them and led them to a table near the back and handed them menus. He seemed distracted, hyper-alert, watching the door and the customers as if expecting something to happen.
“Colonel Lane, I presume?” Straker said softly, holding the menu up. The man’s surprise was only evident in a slight widening of his eyes. “I’m General Ed Straker, and this is Mister and Missus Kent, Clark’s parents.”
“We’re told you know where our boy is,” Jonathan said with a soft rumble.
Mike nodded almost imperceptibly. “My niece brought him here. He’s in real rough shape. Plus, I have reason to believe the building’s being watched.”
“I’m sure it is,” Straker murmured.
Mike considered the implications of the other man’s statement. “What do you need me to do?” he asked.
Straker’s eyes went distant as he listened to voices coming through the nearly invisible ear bud he was wearing. “They’re here.” He turned to his companions. “Go upstairs with him. And whatever you do, don’t try to remove that torque from his neck. It’s designed to kill if you try. We have people working on a safe method to neutralize it.”
Martha paled, placing a hand on her husband’s arm for reassurance.
