Hi,

Keeping my promise...

last time on chapter 3 part a --


“Can you stand? We need to take you to the treatment room.” She moved back again as she spoke, enabling Teo to offer him assistance.

“Why? Do I need more treatment?” His voice sounded slurred even to his own ears. He pushed himself up and swung his legs from the bed, the usual dizziness from the drugs making his head swim, but this time it was accompanied by a feeling of nausea. “I'm sick...” he managed to grind out before his head started to roll and his legs began to sag like an old, worn-out rubber toy.

Teo's large hands steadied him and, immediately, the second man was at his other side, propping him up. Between them they supported him as he made a stumbling attempt to climb the stairs. It took longer than normal and he was extremely grateful for the gurney which waited outside his door.

Now there was a thing: a question popped randomly into his hazy brain. Why did his hospital room have a flight of stairs? Wouldn't it have made his treatment easier if the gurney could have been brought to his bedside? Of course, under normal circumstances he'd always been able to walk from his room with just a little help, and he just about made it this time.... As his legs gave out completely, he was manhandled onto the gurney.

The lights in the corridor were dim, or was it his vision that was fading? Looking to the side he could still discern the figure of Dr Ducos as she hurried along, but she did seem to be wavering in and out of focus.

The little group about him swung the trolley into the treatment room and somehow managed to transfer him to the surgical table. He would have tried to help, but he felt a whole lot weaker than normal, and he knew he was going to throw up, unfortunately. This was different! What had they done to him, and what were they about to do to him?

*****

and now --


Stephan Janik noticed Superman's pallor turn from sickly green to gray. “Turn his head,” he demanded quickly of Adrienne. “Get a sick-bowl, Teo. Hurry!” All of their plotting to save the superhero would be useless if he choked on his own vomit first.

Some minutes passed while the patient heaved into the bowl, but as soon as Stephan was satisfied it was safe to do so, he gestured for Superman to be laid out flat again. Time was running out.

They'd chosen to make their move at 4am to be sure that those not on duty or out carousing were fast asleep, but late enough so the drive to the border could be made in some semblance of light. There was still a lot to be done in the next hour or so before they left the complex and Stephan steeled himself for the ordeal. As distressing as their plans for the poor man might be, it was better than carrying out Hyesan's orders.

The immunologist had allowed himself to be seduced by the promise of money and the scope to research projects which were banned in most western societies. Like Adrienne he'd fooled himself into believing that the end justified the means. Yet, as he'd listened to the General's callous commands to dispose of Superman, he'd found in himself a sense of morality which he'd believed long dead.

For the first time in many years, Stephan rediscovered the need to do the right thing, regardless of the consequences to himself. Of course, he wasn't brave or foolish enough to sacrifice his life for the cause, or for that matter, to allow Adrienne and Teo to do so either - - hence the need for this elaborate charade.

It was regrettable that Superman would probably be terrified by what they were about to do, but, thankfully, he would soon be unconscious. It would be easier to do what was necessary to a comatose victim.... Stephan just hoped that his and his fellow conspirators' acting abilities would be good enough to fool the cameras and the General, who was sure to avidly watch the recordings of the proceedings just as soon as he returned. That knowledge sent a chill down Stephan's spine.

There was no time, however, for misgivings, and he tamped the feeling down with actions, beginning to strap the superhero to the table. For the first time in many months, Superman resisted. “Dr Ducos, don't just stand there like window-dressing, help me here.”

Adrienne's gaze snapped from her contemplation of Superman to her fellow doctor. She shook herself and hurried to the table, taking Superman's hand in her own and squeezing it, she hoped in a comforting manner, as she slid his wrist into the thick leather bonds. “Don't fight us,” she instructed, her cold tone at odds with her reassuring press of his hand.

Clearly, though, the man on the table was not picking up on her unspoken message, since he weakly fought against the restraints. Even in his state of disorientation, he seemed to be aware that something was not quite right. If only they could explain what they were about to do was for his own good, but Adrienne, too, knew that was impossible.

Superman's frailty, however, allowed the two doctors to control him easily, and they locked tight the bonds around his wrists and ankles.

“Dr Ducos, I believe the next phase is up to you.” Stephan stepped back to allow Adrienne access to the table.

Their victim started to relax. He had been here before. Soon Dr Ducos would be inserting an IV tube into the back of his wrist. Soon he would be slipping into a deep sleep where nothing reached him, not even dreams. Soon, he would be waking up back in his own bed, feeling sick and melancholy, but with Teo to take care of him.

Only, not this time! It wasn't any type of medical implement that Dr Ducos pulled from beneath a side-trolley. It was an item of an entirely different shape and made of darker metal, which glinted evilly in the glare of the overhead lights, as she raised it towards his head. He'd seen the guards carry such things, though this was much smaller. Yet it still looked clumsy in her grasp. Perhaps, Dr Ducos was more at home with hypodermics than guns.

Immediately Superman tensed. His past and identity might be lost to him, but he sensed he'd faced guns before. He knew such weapons killed and maimed, but why should these people want to kill him? What had he done that his doctors would turn against him?

But you never were a patient, that tiny nagging voice reminded him. You were always a specimen! Wasn't that what they called you?

He'd allowed himself to be fooled by the caring manner of this woman and Teo. Strangely, he felt no fear as he stared into the barrel of the gun, held so near his face. His existence had been a living death for a long time now... it mattered little that this should be the end. If he had one regret, it was that he'd never discover the true identity of his dream woman.

That final thought shocked him. He was still conscious and he remembered that there was a dream woman! If only he could picture her. Dying with her image in his mind would not be a hardship.

But in his preoccupation with his dream, he failed to take account of reality. He hadn't noticed the gun begin to shake in Dr Ducos hand, nor that her aim had shifted slightly. He did, however, hear her strangled cry.

“I can't! What if bullets don't kill him?”

That seemed like a very weird thing to say, the man in the firing line decided somewhat distractedly. At this range he doubted any victim would survive.

“Dr Ducos, that's crazy.” The man in the white coat clearly agreed. “The injection you gave him earlier contained 'green K'. Even if he wasn't already vulnerable, he is now. And you know you've been sticking him with needles for almost a year.”

Listening to the conversation going back and forth above his head, the man wondered what 'green K' might be. Somehow he realized it was something that wasn't beneficial to his health... just as he'd known instinctively that he hated the color.

“Come on, Doctor! I don't want to hang around here all night waiting for you to do what you have to.” Janik's voice betrayed mounting annoyance.

“I am trying. I've never done this sort of thing before....”

A silence engulfed the room, the four occupants remaining in a frozen tableau, awaiting the deafening noise of gunfire. Then Adrienne gave a gulping sigh, freeing the still figures.

“It's no use.” She let the gun drop to her side. “I can't kill... anyone. Let Hyesan do what he wants to me. I won't shoot this man.”

Superman let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and directed his attention fully back to the people in the room. Perhaps he'd been reprieved, though he thought that unlikely... and he was right.

“Women! Never could trust them to do a job properly,” Janik complained loudly. “I knew Hyesan was wrong to put you in charge of the clean up. What in god's name made you think you could shoot him? I bet you've never used a firearm before in your life.”

“No,” Adrienne admitted defensively. “But you probably haven't either. Can you do any better?” She passed the gun to Stephan, holding it by her fingertips as if the butt was contaminated.

“Put that away,” he ordered. “Gunshot wounds are messy. I prefer something with more finesse. After all, we're physicians; we have other means of killing at our disposal. It's a good job for you that I have a back-up plan.”

The male doctor walked out of Superman's line of vision for a moment, but when he returned, Superman was in no doubt that his final moment had arrived. He didn't need to see the injection-gun in Janik's hand, his body was already cramping as much as it possibly could in his confined position. Through eyes wet with tears of pain, he became mesmerized again by the sickly green hue emanating from Janik's fist.

After one final feeble attempt to wrench his arm free, Superman once again gave into the inevitable. He closed his eyes and turned his head away as the injection was administered, trying to ignore the pain, trying not to allow his killers the satisfaction of knowing he was afraid.

Then 'she' was there, a wraith like figure in his fading consciousness, watching him with a gaze full of sadness and compassionate understanding, as if she shared his anguish. He almost cried out to her, yet her name remained beyond his memory, and it didn't matter anyway as he no longer had the power of speech. She smiled, and his terror ebbed away -- death would not seem so bad, if she were with him.

Around him the others waited nervously for the moment when the drugs would take effect and they could begin the next phase of the plan. Each of them were struggling with their inner dreads, while hoping they were maintaining a calm exterior for the cameras.

Adrienne hated to see such a brave and good man brought so low, and the knowledge she'd been part of Hyesan's horrific scheme shamed her to the core of her being.

Teo was upset by what he saw, but growing up in this harsh land had made him somewhat immune to suffering. Besides, he was a simple soldier in an army where to disobey orders would mean certain death for himself and his family. He was proud to be given the chance to help the superhero whom he admired, but he was taking a huge risk in doing so, and not just with his own life. Teo totally understood the need for this pretense.

Yet, perhaps the most anxious of the three was Janik. The theory he was following was not an exact science and he could only pray that he'd calculated the correct doses of the toxins that the Kryptonian could safely withstand. An overdose could be lethal, and there was still more torture to come. All Stephan could do to help was to work quickly and hope Superman would have the stamina to come through his travail without incurring any permanent damage. Or no more than they had agreed to inflict on him, at least.

Adrienne had been horrified when he'd suggested his addition to the plan. Thankfully, Teo had agreed stoically. The soldier had served under Hyesan's command for some years and knew exactly what would impress the sadistic General. Between them, Stephan and Teo had persuaded Adrienne to comply, though she still hadn't been happy. Hell, he wasn't feeling very good about what he was about to do!

Which reminded Stephan that Adrienne was not following the script. He took a chance and nudged her with his foot, which wasn't exactly easy, since she was standing on the other side of the table. He hoped the camera hadn't picked up his surreptitious prompt.

The woman sent her colleague a challenging look, but at his steady stare, she remembered she had a role to act out. “Just what poison did you mix with the kryptonite?”

“I don't think you really want to know. I mixed up my own concoction; something similar to the lethal injections used in the United States. The green K is just to make sure it takes effect on his alien physiology.”

The commentary was for Hyesan's benefit, though the latter was embellishment; without his powers, Superman reacted to drugs pretty similarly to a human. Since the General had kept a very close eye on the experiments over this past year, Stephan was pretty sure the top soldier would be very aware of all the medical details regarding his poor victim.

In truth, there was only a very minute quantity of kryptonite in the syringe, just enough to cause a reaction from the superhero, but Stephen had used a very powerful sedative, plus nerve and muscle relaxants. After all, it had to appear on camera that Superman had died. If Stephan had done his calculations correctly, his patient should remain totally comatose while they carried out the rest of their plan. Once they'd smuggled him out of the complex and they were no longer under surveillance, Stephan would administer the stimulant and with any luck Superman should regain his senses with nothing more than a giant hangover... and one very painful extremity.

Superman's breathing became laboured as if each single breath was dredged up from the very depth's of his soul. Thankfully, his eyes remained closed, though at this point he was probably still semi- conscious. A gentle smile turned up the corners of his lips, transforming the haggard look of his face.

The others had never seen him smile before during his incarceration, and the knowledge broke Adrienne's heart. Here was a man who deserved to smile at life. She prayed that in this moment he had found a safe haven... one that brought him some happiness... if it were fleeting.

The painful breathing stuttered and the body on the table gave one last convulsive jerk as the cocktail of drugs caused the nerve-endings to freeze - - the smile slowly faded, and yet a faint trace of peace lingered on Superman's face. Stephan placed his fingertips to the superhero's neck, searching for a pulse, while his fellow conspirators waited anxiously. They'd trusted the immunologist's expertise, yet they'd both known the very thin tightrope he'd been treading - - Adrienne more than Teo.

“He's dead,” Stephan stated baldy. “Would you care to confirm, Dr Ducos?”

Adrienne's frightened stare locked with Janik's. Superman was dead! Had all their scheming been for nothing? Had she placed her faith in the wrong man? No, this was part of the plan. She had to believe it.

“Adrienne, pay attention!” A mocking grin spread over his face. “I feel, since we're now partners-in-crime, so to speak, that first names are appropriate.”

She gave herself a mental shake, fully aware that it was crucial that she hold up her part of the act, and, so far, she decided she hadn't been doing a very good job.

“Sorry, Dr Janik.” She stressed his formal title. “It's hard to believe that we killed someone who's supposed to be indestructible. So many people have tried, in the past.”

“Even the mighty fall if you have the knowledge and the correct tools. It's a pity I can never record my findings, though,” Janik reflected with a disgruntled grimace.

Again Adrienne wondered if her trust was misplaced, or if Stephan Janik had missed his calling on the stage. She stretched her arm out, willing it not to shake, and followed Stephan's instructions. Beneath her fingertips, Superman's skin felt cold. For interminable moments she waited... seeking... sensing.... There it was... a pulse, but so thready, and slow that only a medical person would find it.

Adrienne had been brought up a Catholic, but she'd long forgotten her faith, until now. She'd been praying, silently, unceasingly till she had felt that pulse. Now her elation gave her the courage to continue.

“I confirm that Superman is dead,” she said, her voice steady and strong.

“Good. Now perhaps we can move along to the next phase,” Stephan suggested helpfully, relieved that Adrienne had not broken down, and also that her apparent calm manner meant that she was actually confirming the opposite of her words. He'd been afraid that detecting Superman's pulse was only wishful thinking on his part.

“Yes, let's dispose of the body. Teo, help us get him down to the boiler-room.”

“Wait, don't be too hasty, Adrienne. There's something I need to do first.” Stephan picked up a scalpel from the trolley by his side and held it under the lights.

“What do you mean? What are you doing, Dr Janik?” Adrienne demanded, staring as Stephan spread Superman's fingers on the table -- as the wicked blade nicked the skin of his middle finger. She knew this was part of the plan, and she had agreed, but the thought of it made her feel sick.

“We're cremating the body in the incinerator along with the rest of the stuff we have to destroy. By the time we're done there won't be anything left but ashes, so I thought General Hyesan might like a souvenir -- like a trophy! OK, it's a little small to hang on the wall, but I'm sure he'll find a spot for it.”

“You disgust me, Janik!”

“Don't be so squeamish, Adrienne,” Stephan replied on cue, and deciding to stick to his choice of her given name. “You're in this up to your pretty little neck, just like the rest of us.”

Janik had begun his amputation, and Adrienne didn't have to feign distaste. Stephan had explained last night why this had to be done. Of course she'd objected at first, but when the usually silent Teo had backed him, she'd known she'd lost the argument. Much as she hated to admit it, they did have a point.

The boiler room was also covered by CCTV, so unfortunately, the body they cast into the flames would need to be shrouded by a sheet. It would be possible to make the swap in the narrow anteroom leading to the basement which housed the furnace... the only place where the snooping lens had long since broken down and no one had thought to repair it. In fact, a body of similar height and build to Superman, which Teo had appropriated from the village cemetery, was already waiting there, suitably one finger less.

Just yesterday, three local men had been killed in an accident when their ancient truck had veered off a mountain road into a ravine. A tragic incident for the victims and their families, but one which the conspirators had philosophically accepted as timely for their needs.

The villagers had been grateful for Corporal Teo's assistance, first in retrieving the bodies and later burying them. The young soldier was fairly well known in the village for being of a kinder disposition than the rest of the men in his battalion. So the fact that one body had been spirited away had either gone unnoticed, or was stoically ignored. The villagers had learned to turn a blind-eye to the happenings at the camp on their doorstep and most would be likely to protect Teo, if the need arose.

Yet Teo wouldn't need protection if General Hyesan was convinced that the body being thrown into the flames belonged to his 'specimen'. The fact that he'd see the recording of Janik cutting off Superman's finger, an action which would appeal to his base nature, followed by a fortuitous slip of the sheet as the body disappeared inside the incinerator, allowing a hand minus a finger to be displayed, would hopefully dispel any doubt in the General's suspicious mind. People tended to believe what their eyes told them.

If Superman's death appeared so unimpeachable, then Hyesan would never contemplate searching for him. Adrienne had been persuaded, yet it didn't make the reality of the deed more acceptable.

Stephan was working quickly and expertly and she forced herself to remember her lines. If this was to be done, it had to be done convincingly.

“Why don't you just cut off the finger with a machete? He's dead. He won't feel a thing.”

“Tut-tut, Adrienne. I already told you - - I'm a doctor, not a butcher.” Stephan never once looked up. Within minutes he'd finished his task and Superman's middle finger was dropped into a bowl of embalming fluid. “There it's done. Now we can get him down to the basement. I want to get some sleep tonight.”

The gurney was brought back to the operating table, the restraints unfastened and the body transferred by Teo and Stephan. Before they had a chance to move the trolley, Adrienne had retrieved a pristine white sheet from a nearby cabinet and tucked it securely round the supposed corpse, shielding it completely from the camera's view. She was particularly careful when she reached the injured hand, but she had to concede that Stephan had done a proficient job, amputating the finger cleanly from the bottom knuckle. There was hardly any blood, though she suspected the drugs Superman had been given were partly responsible for that circumstance. They would treat the injury as soon as they had their patient out of this hell hole.

“Ever fastidious, Adrienne,” Janik sneered at her actions. “You worry me, you do! However did you get involved in this business in the first place? Just remember to keep your prissy little mouth closed. Hyesan wants this kept secret, so make sure you don't go crying to world the truth about the death of its hero. Even Hyesan's superiors would probably baulk at being implicated in that can of worms. They'd throw him to the wolves, and he knows it. So if you don't want to end up like this poor b*****d, you'd better grow a thicker skin.”

It didn't take much acting on Adrienne's part for her to look horrified. “I know all that! I just don't like seeing our work of the past year wasted. The new combination of drugs would have worked. I should have been given the chance to prove it.”

“Forget it, Adrienne. It's history. I'm sure if you ask the General nicely he'll find you some new labrats to play with. Now can we get this show on the road. I'm tired and I have a date with a bottle of vodka before I go to sleep.”

*****

tbc