Table of contents is here .

LAST TIME ON EMII:

CJ had never realised that stakeouts could be so dull. The only reliefs to the tedium were occasional comments from Plotnek, bathroom breaks and deliveries of coffee and doughnuts, which arrived midmorning, and a platter of sandwiches, which served as lunch.

It was close to two thirty when the sound of a rasping buzzer shattered the observation room's expectant peace. Everyone's attention jolted automatically towards the screen that showed a view of the front gate. Unnecessarily, Plotnek announced, "They're here."

NOW READ ON...


CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


"The intercom rings in the house," Plotnek explained, and pointed at the screen showing the hall. "But we've tapped the line so you'll be able to hear the conversation out here, too."

The image showed the fake butler rapidly walking over towards what looked like a cream-coloured wall-mounted phone. If she squinted hard enough, Lois could just make out a small video screen mounted next to the handset. The fake butler picked up the call and said, "Hello?"

The voice that answered him was female. "Open the gates. I have Lex Luthor with me; he wants to see Mr Pagliano on an urgent matter of business."

Lois recognised the condescending tones immediately. "Monica Carnes," she quickly muttered to CJ, who had missed Wednesday's stakeout.

On screen, playing his role to the hilt, the butler replied, "I will just see if Mr Pagliano is free."

"You do that," answered Carnes.

The butler pushed a button on the phone, presumably to put Carnes on hold, and he produced a small walkie-talkie out of his breast pocket. "Stations, everyone. Luthor's just coming through the gates."

Then he returned to the phone, pressed the button again, and said, "You may come up to the house."

"Thank you." Carnes' words sounded politely sarcastic.

Lois turned her eyes back to the screen showing Luthor's car – a relatively modest Mercedes, she noted – and watched as the gate slid open to allow it begin its long journey up the drive. She, together with everyone else, except Pagliano's goons who were now engrossed with ancient copies of the National Whisper, watched the car's progress via a series of monitors until finally it ground to a halt on the forecourt where she had stopped earlier.

Luthor, dressed in a light-weight suit, eased himself out of the passenger's seat. From the driver's side appeared first one heeled shoe then another, two shapely ankles, and then, finally, the rest of the woman. Monica Carnes was dressed in a parody of a chauffeur's outfit. She wore a bottle-green peaked cap over her cascading brown hair. Her jacket, also bottle-green, was a perfect fit that suggested expensive tailoring. Her skirt stopped mid-thigh, and showed off her long legs to perfection. Pagliano, it appeared, wasn't the only one who liked his female employees to flaunt their assets. At least, Lois thought grudgingly, Luthor managed to mix male chauvinism with a modicum of style.

Luthor nodded to Carnes and they headed towards the front door, drawing alongside each other on the way. "Are you ready, my dear?" he asked.

Lois jumped, startled. "How are you doing that? Picking up their conversation, I mean." She knew the inside of the house was wired, of course, but she hadn't realised that they'd be able to hear anything outside.

"Gun microphone used in conjunction with a parabolic reflector," said Plotnek. That meant nothing to Lois. Her confusion must have shown, because Plotnek elaborated. "It's the kind of microphone that documentary makers use when they're recording wildlife. Tony, over there, could tell you more about it than I can. Cameras are my speciality."

Lois turned to look in Tony's direction, but as he was busily turning dials on a tape recorder, she decided not to disturb him.

She turned back to the screen in time to see Carnes speak, her words simultaneously coming out of a speaker. "I’m always ready. And you?"

Luthor nodded a silent reply and patted a spot near his left armpit. Was it her imagination, Lois wondered, or could she see the faintest hint of a bulge there? A bulge that just might be a holstered gun? She shivered involuntarily at the thought.

When Luthor next spoke, the words were quiet, almost whispered, and Lois had to struggle to make them out. "Now, remember... If Pagliano won't play ball, then we'll have to kill him, along with everyone else on the estate."

Lois gasped. Of course she'd known Luthor was capable of such atrocities, but to witness it first hand... And the casualness with which he spoke was chilling.

"And we'll need to destroy any surveillance tapes."

Carnes smiled, nodded and said huskily, "It's a good thing that Pagliano's wife turned out to be so... helpful."

"Indiscreet, don't you mean?"

Again, Carnes nodded. "Benton says that she makes a very talkative drunk."

"And now we know how big this place is, how many people work here and how... lazy Pagliano's security guards are..." Again he smiled, but this time the expression had a predatory quality to it. "They won't notice a thing."

Lois glanced around and felt her stomach twist. The two guards were still lounging around, apparently too engrossed for what passed for a crossword in the National Whisper to have noticed the exchange. It looked as though Luthor was right about them.

She turned her attention back towards the monitors in time to see Luthor and Carnes walk up the steps to the double front door. Luthor waited as Carnes pressed the bell. Lois glanced across at the monitor showing the interior of the hall and saw the butler jogging across it. He opened the door and beckoned the guests inside. "If you will come this way, sir... madam. Mr Pagliano is waiting for you in his study."

"Wrong," said a voice from just outside the field of view. Plotnek fiddled with a couple of dials, and the camera shifted slightly to show the speaker. "Mr Pagliano is right here. It's an honour to meet you, Mr Luthor." He held out his hand.

Lois noticed that Luthor did not bother to take it. Nor did he formally introduced Carnes to Pagliano. Instead he merely said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, too. I was wondering if you could spare me a little of your time. I'd like to discuss a matter of business with you."

"Certainly," replied Pagliano. "If you'd like to come through..."

"Rather than staying in, might I suggest that we take a stroll around those admirable grounds of yours? It is, after all, a quite wonderful afternoon."

Pagliano nodded, smiling at the flattery, and turned to the butler. "We're going for a quick walk. Please get some cold drinks ready to serve on the terrace for when we get back."

Plotnek gave vent to a short, pithy expletive.

"What?!" cried Lois, alarmed by his reaction.

"They're going outside!"

"So?"

"So we specifically told Pagliano to stay indoors. We've done what we can to keep him safe – Kevlar vest and the like – but that only reduces the risk of injury. It doesn't get rid of it all together. We've got people hidden throughout the house so it'd be relatively easy to intervene if things get nasty in there. But there's no way we can contain the situation if they go outside!"

The butler didn't look happy. "Sir, with all due respect, may I remind you that the... doctor... has recommended that you take things easy." It wasn't a very good lie, Lois thought, but it was probably the best thing that the man could come up with on the spur of the moment. His next comment had a ring of truth to it, though. "It might not be... good for your health... to leave the house. If you'd care to go into the living room or the library, I could bring the drinks through to you there."

There was a glint of defiance in Pagliano's eyes, and Lois could tell that, no matter how willing he had been to be used as bait, he wanted to do it on his own terms. He was obviously a man who liked to be in control of situations and he resented the fact that, having agreed to help the police, they were trying to tell him what to do. Fool, she thought, sympathising with Plotnek's anger. This was hardly the time to be having a fit of post-adolescent rebellion. "A little stroll won't hurt me, I'm sure," Pagliano said, staring the butler down.

"And we'll take very good care of him for you," said Carnes silkily. "He'll be in safe hands with us."

The butler looked torn, but what, really, could he do? With forced calm, he said, "Very well, sir," and turned away.

Pagliano looked at his guests, then gestured back towards the front door. "This way," he said. "The lake looks particularly fine at this time of year."

Anyone listening to the next few minutes worth of conversation could have been excused for thinking that everything was normal. They discussed the weather ("Particularly fine for the time of year, don't you think"), the lawn ("Remarkable: so green and free from weeds") and the house ("Quite beautiful. Have you lived here long?"). Only as they reached the shores of the lake and began to walk around it, did the talk turn towards business.

"My... sources," began Luthor delicately, "tell me that you are reluctant to sell your shares in MaxiComm." His image was small on the screen, and Lois realised that the camera that was focused on the group had to be mounted somewhere on the front of the house. If they moved much further away, it would be hard to make out very much in the way of details.

Pagliano slowed his walk to a crawl as he turned to look at Luthor, and Lois guessed from the way his head didn't move that he had to be staring, trying to work out where Luthor was going with this. "And how would your sources even know that I had received an offer for those shares?" he asked carefully.

"Because I—"

Tony swore violently as the sound vanished.

"What happened?" demanded Lois.

"We've lost it!" explained Plotnek hurriedly. "They've just moved out of audio range! Dammit!"

"So what do we do now?"

"Do? There's nothing we can do. We just have to rely on the video, pray they don't move out of shot, and hope that'll be enough!" Plotnek's anger was palpable, and he began swearing about Pagliano again. "We told the little—" Lois decided that she hadn't heard that particular word. "We told him and told him about the limits to the equipment. We told the... idiot... not to go outside, but did he listen!? Stupid... stupid..." Lois wondered whether it was anger that was breaking up the fluency of his diatribe, or whether it was the strain of having to contain yet more foul invective. She got the feeling that it was probably the latter.

On screen, civilised discussion segued into something less refined. Pagliano shouted silently and began to flail his arms around. Luthor's body language was restrained, although there was something about the way he was standing that suggested that he might be smirking, as though he was enjoying the other man's discomfort. Carnes seemed to be watching with detached disinterest. It was hard to tell from a distance, but Lois got the impression that she was probably smiling, too.

Then Luthor reached under his jacket and pulled out a gun. He aimed. He fired.

No amount of Kevlar could have protected Pagliano from that shot. Instead of aiming at Pagliano's well-protected chest, Luthor had gone for his head. The back of Pagliano's skull exploded, shattered by the force of the exiting bullet and Lois got a flash of nauseating pink and crimson before Pagliano collapsed onto the lawn.

"Oh, God!" she cried and flung herself around, wanting to bury her head in the comforting haven of CJ's chest. However, after only the briefest of embraces, she forced herself to turn back, forced herself to watch the last of the obscene scenes unfold.

Luthor looked down at the body for a moment, then with the exaggerated movements of a street mime, he lowered the gun and blew across the top of the barrel. Then he made a performance of holstering it. He straightened, raised his arms in triumph and turned his face to the sky. Small as his image was, Lois could see that he was laughing with joy as he spun on the spot.

She'd heard that Luthor enjoyed killing, but hearing about it and seeing it, even filtered through the surveillance equipment, were two very different things. She felt suddenly and violently sick, and had to place a hand across her mouth as she forced bile back down her throat.

Her attention was so tightly focused on that one screen that she barely heard Plotnek screaming at Henderson through a radio link. She didn't see a stream of officers, Henderson in the lead, pour out of the house. It was only as they came into view, running across the lawn that she – and Luthor – become aware of them.

Just before he, too, passed out of the microphone's range, Lois heard Henderson yell, "Armed police! Get on the floor and place your hands behind your heads!"

For a second it looked as though Luthor was going to go for his gun but, to Lois's surprise, he did as he was told. Carnes, apparently also taken by surprise at his acquiescence, managed to scramble down onto the grass, though with some difficulty, given the tightness of her skirt.

Why had Luthor given in so easily? Lois wondered. Was it because he knew he was outnumbered? Or was it because he believed that he could get away with even this, given time? He knew the system. Heck, he owned most of it! It wasn't beyond the realms of possibility that Luthor thought he could get away with murder, even when there were a dozen witnesses to it.

"C'mon, CJ!" Lois said, grabbing hold of his hand and trying to pull him out of his chair.

"What...? Lois!? What are you doing?"

"Going to see Luthor!"

"Lois! Henderson said—"

"Look, CJ, the stakeout is over. Henderson's caught his man. We're hardly going to mess things up now and I want –need – to get to him, even if it's only to hear him say, 'No comment'."

She almost stumbled backwards when CJ stood while she was still pulling on his hand. He continued protesting as they ran down the stairs and clambered into the Jeep.

Lois didn't bother following the narrow track this time. She drove the Jeep straight across the perfect lawn – it wasn't as if Pagliano was going to care any more – and reached the front of the house in a time that would have made a rally driver proud. She slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt just inches away from Luthor's Merc.

Henderson and another man were prodding Luthor towards the house. Two other officers were having trouble with Carnes, who was struggling in their grip. From around a corner, police cars appeared, spilling out more officers and standing ready to take the prisoners back to Metropolis.

Lois jumped out of the Jeep, peripherally aware that CJ was still following her. She ran up to Luthor and planted herself directly in front of him. Henderson, she noticed, looked exasperated, but he didn't protest at her presence.

Luthor looked her up and down, his eyes raking her body, making her feel distinctly uncomfortable. "You think I don't know it was you?" he said finally. "I read the Daily Planet, you know. I know all about your vendetta against LexCorp, Ms Lane and I know that Henderson couldn't have done this on his own. Don't think you're safe, Lois Lane, because the charges won't stick; they never do. And when I'm out, I'll get you. I'll. Get. You."

Lois almost missed Henderson quietly saying from behind him, "Was that a threat, Mr Luthor? Tut, tut. I'd be more careful if I were you; you're in quite enough trouble already."

"Trouble?" demanded Luthor. "Believe me, you and your little minions don't even know the meaning of the word! And as for you, Ms Lane—"

CJ startled Lois as he stepped in front of her, offering her what little protection he could. "Leave her alone!" he demanded.

"No, CJ!" protested Lois. "You don't have—"

"Well, well, well," Luthor bit out, and for a moment CJ thought that the billionaire was going to spit at him. "So the crusading assistant District Attorney is in on this, too. I should have guessed. You never did know when to give up, did you?"

"It seems to me," said Lois boldly, leaning out from behind CJ's left shoulder, "that you're the one who should be giving up, Luthor. I should tell you that today is just the tip of the ice-berg of what we've got on you. We've got you implicated in homicides, organised crime, drugs trafficking... You name it, we've got it." She shook her head and said with satisfaction, "There is absolutely no way you'll be getting off this time."

Lois felt herself smiling as she saw Luthor pale as the reality of his position seemed to sink in. His rage contorted his mouth and narrowed his eyes, which flashed with a dangerous fury.

"Lois!" hissed CJ and Lois could hear the nervousness in his voice. "Don't provoke him!"

"What, like you were, you mean?" Lois muttered back, but she was shaken by what she was seeing, herself. But she swallowed her fear and turned her attention back to Luthor. Very sweetly, she asked, "Would you like to make a statement for the press?"

"No comment," Luthor snarled, and, this time, CJ was positive that he could see him begin to ball saliva in his mouth. Before Luthor could let it fly, however, the police pulled him out of firing range. No longer was Luthor going quietly, though. Now he was squirming and fighting, and it took three of them to drag him away.

CJ and Lois watched as one of the officers placed his hand on the top of Luthor's head and pushed it down so they could get him into the back of a waiting squad car. The string of imaginative and highly varied words Luthor was pouring forth verged on the poetic.

Lois burst into laughter. It wasn't that the situation was remotely amusing, a detached part of her mind told her; rather it was the release of tension. It was relief that was making her hysterical.

As the car with Luthor in pulled out, CJ turned around and gathered Lois into his arms. She clung to him desperately. Adrenaline had carried her this far, but now that the confrontation was over, she felt it drain away. She wanted – needed – to feel him, to draw strength from him, to be in his arms, the safest place that she knew.

They watched as the car receded down the drive. Only after it had turned the bend, vanishing out of sight, did Lois bury her face into his chest and sob, "Oh, CJ!" She realised that she was trembling.

His grip on her tightened, and he whispered into her hair, "Shush, Lois. It's all right. He's gone now. He's gone." His words were nonsense but she didn't care. All she cared about was the man who was holding her, keeping the rest of the world at bay.

*****

It wasn't until much later that they arrived back in Metropolis. CJ insisted that they went to Lois's place because, although she had recovered her equilibrium enough to drive them home, he doubted that she should be left alone. In any case, he didn't feel like being on his own, himself.

Lois found some wine and they sat together on one of the love seats slowly drinking and recovering. At one point, Lois said, "We did it, CJ. We really did it. We beat Lex Luthor," but her words were more numbed disbelief than triumphant.

Softly, CJ said, "Not just us, Lois. We had a lot of help, remember."

"But we organised everything."

CJ found himself smiling. Even after a traumatic day like today, even in a state of semi-shock, Lois wanted glory. "Henderson might say the same thing," CJ pointed out. "We just pushed him in the right direction."

"Are you deliberately trying to be annoying?" she asked, and he was delighted to hear that the numbness in her tone was giving away to a more familiar teasing note. He found that both reassuring and comforting. Things were getting back to normal, he thought.

"Maybe."

"Okay, let me rephrase it: Lex Luthor is beaten!" It was incredible, CJ thought, how rapidly Lois had gone from disbelief to happy satisfaction. "Can you at least agree with that, CJ?"

CJ nodded, but Lois noticed that he didn't look too thrilled about it. He should have known that things rarely got passed her, and she'd noticed that he was sharing little of her glee. "Maybe," he said softly, noncommittally.

Her grin slipped away and, her tone rich with concern, she asked, "What's wrong? Aren't you happy?"

With a huge effort, CJ forced himself to smile. "Of course I'm happy," he said sombrely. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Maybe for you this is the end, but for me this is just the – how did Churchill put it? – end of the beginning. We've still got the arraignments to look forward to, and the trial. I dare say that I won't be the one prosecuting, even for the State offences – I'm too close to this – but it'll be my office. My colleagues." He shook his head. "No, Lois. We've got a long way to go before we can say that we've won."

"Oh," she said. "I guess I never really thought about it that way before. I'm so used to getting my stories and then just moving on to the next thing, you know? I guess... I've never really stopped to think about what happens next."

They lapsed into a silence, which Lois broke a few minutes later. "CJ," she said, "maybe you are looking at this the wrong way."

"Wrong way, how?"

"Maybe you're right – we haven't won the war. But we have won a decisive battle. Just for tonight, we should celebrate that. Everything else can wait until tomorrow. Let's just be happy for now. For this moment."

CJ nodded. "How," he asked, his voice rich with emotion, "is it that you always know the right things to say? How to make me feel good about things?"

Lois shrugged, apparently embarrassed at his praise. "I don't always know what to say. You know that."

"You always know what to say to me. It's like you know me better than I know myself, sometimes."

"You feel that too?" she asked softly, feeling slightly awed by his comment. "I hadn't realised that it worked both ways." She smiled. "I guess that can only mean one thing."

"Oh? And that is...?"

"Just this," she whispered. She placed her hand lightly on his arm and pulled him around to look at her. Their eyes locked for several seconds. Then she slid closer to him and raised her hands to stroke the sides of his neck and ease his head down towards hers. She kissed him, pouring all the love she felt for him into the action and feeling it returned in equal measure.

She pulled away for just long enough to whisper, in case he hadn't quite got the message yet, "I love you, CJ Kent."

"And I love you, Lois Lane. More than I ever thought I could love anyone."

Whatever else he might have said was lost as she reclaimed his mouth.


TBC