DISCLAIMER: I claim none of the characters. They are all DC's; a good majority of the characters are from the Superman comics, but there are a few of them from the Supergirl comic series. In short, they're not mine; I'm just borrowing them. I'll return them, I promise!
- - - -
Lightning streaked across the sky, thunder rumbled, and the wind blew as the dark sky threatened to open its fury upon Metropolis. Lex stood at the edge of the terrace, feet should width apart, his arms behind him. His back was facing the terrace, the shattered remains of his broken wine glass still on the floor, but he didn’t care. He looked down at the city below him, a smug look on his face. Above the cacophony from in front of him, his ears picked up the sound of crunching glass behind him.
“It’s a lovely view, don’t you think, Sydney?” he asked without turning around.
Sydney stopped about ten feet from him, startled. He would never figure out how his boss managed to do that. “Uh, it is, sir,” he answered slowly.
Lex leaned forward, resting his knuckles on the rail of the terrace, letting the wind sweep around him. “It’s amazing that these people can be so easily manipulated; that they’ll believe anything you tell them.” He chuckled. “Some things never change.”
“Sir, I’ve received news from Australia that Lois Lane and Clark Kent have begun interviewing some of the businesses you worked with in Australia,” Sydney said.
“We knew to expect that,” Lex replied. “The one thing about those two is that they will always look into something to authenticate it, but they can also be convinced, if given the proper information; they are like fish: just give them the proper bait, and they will eventually be hooked.” He turned around. “And what is the status on our little friends?”
Sydney swallowed hard, backing up a few steps. “Well, uh . . .”
Lex’s smile faded as he stepped menacingly toward his lackey. “What happened?” he growled.
“Th-th-they were d-d-doing just fine, s-s-sir,” Sydney stammered. “They almost had Olsen, but then Supergirl showed up.”
“Bloody hell,” he muttered. He looked at Sydney. “Where are they now?”
“They’re in police custody.”
“Are they talking?”
“No, sir. They’ve been unconscious since Supergirl brought them in. Seems she got a little aggressive with them, but the police aren’t complaining, and it’s going to be hours before they even wake up.”
Lex grabbed Sydney by his lapels and glared at him, his eyes daggers. “Make arrangements to have them transferred before they do,” he said in a surprisingly calm tone. “Arrange for a little escape while en route to their new location. Have them brought to me. Understood?”
“Sir, if I might say so, I did warn about this type of strategy earlier; Miss Lee is unimportant in our plans.”
“My plans, Sydney. They’re *my* plans; you’re just a lackey, or do you need a little reeducation in that particular area?” Sydney swallowed and slowly shook his head. “Miss Lee is a simple pawn to get to Clark Kent. How I go about getting that revenge is my business. You are getting paid to do *my* bidding, understood?” Sydney nodded slowly. “Now, you have work to do; get to it.” He let go of Sydney, and the assistant scampered back into the building.
Lex turned around, looking down at the city. He had his plans fail twice in one evening, both of them by the very pawns he wanted to control. He did not like it when his plans failed - period. He watched his city as he recalculated his strategy.
- - - -
Harper sighed as he lay on his bed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, exhausted after a long day. He had spent most of last night and the better part of the day keeping an eye on the boys, but they still managed to set off five stink bombs, escape from their classes, and almost took off in one of the all terrain vehicles. Harper groaned as he sat up; even with his youthful body, he was still an old man in his mind. He was contemplating Westfield’s conversation with him the previous night; part of him wondered Westfield was right in how he sought fit to deal with the boys.
<But you could never do that, Jim.>
Harper looked up and around his room, but there was no one there. Yet, he had clearly heard the voice as if someone was standing next to him.
<I’m sorry, but your thoughts were so strong that I couldn’t help but hear them.>
<It’s okay, Dub. Where are you?>
<Right outside. May I come in?>
<Of course.>
The door to Harper’s room opened, and a six-foot tall figure walked in. He was humanoid in appearance, his skin a rock-like gray, and his green eyes elliptical, like those of a cat’s. Two, small, hornlike protuberances grew from his high, wide forehead. He was dressed in a dark shirt with a design of the DNA helix on the sleeve, dark pants, and dark shoes. He closed the door behind him and walked over to Harper’s desk, sitting in the chair.
“You’re worried about the boys, Jim,” he said, his voice low, even, and unnaturally distinct.
“I’ve been worried about them for quite some time,” Harper replied. He chuckled wryly. “Long before your time, remember?” He swung his feet around and placed them on the floor. “Be honest with me, Dubbliex. Should I be firmer in keeping the boys in line? Do you think I’m more their friend than their . . .”
“Gatekeeper?” Dubbliex suggested. Harper nodded. “What more could you do for them? They are already locked up here; they don’t have a say in the matter. They didn’t ask to be who they are any more . . . any more than I did.”
“Or me, for that matter,” Harper replied. He sighed as he got to his feet and walked over to a small, framed photograph sat on his desk, and he picked it up. It was yellowing around the edges, but Harper smiled nostalgically. There he was in his old policeman’s uniform, four of the five boys clustered around him, all of them grinning. He stared for a few moments, the smile slowly fading. “I’m grateful to the boys for what they did to me, Dub; they’ve given me a new lease on life, but there are so many times when I wish was that man again. Things were so simpler back then. Now, it seems as if everything and everyone has gone crazy.” He put the photograph back on his desk. “It’s been ages since I’ve had to be responsible for anyone, and now I’m responsible for the boys all over again, only now there’s *five* of them.” He shook his head. “And they are like their fathers in every way, right down to Patrick’s accent - which is something I’m *still* trying to figure out how they managed to get that so accurate.”
Dubbilex smiled. He knew that his friend was more protective of the five young boys than he let on, sometimes more so than their real fathers were. It was something he envied; his own father - his creator - was dead, but even when he was alive he showed little compassion for Dubbliex, treating him as only a project and not as a living creature. He could also sense in his friend that he wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle the responsibility of raising ‘his’ boys all over again, considering the challenges that Harper had to overcome, both with himself and the boys alike.
“Jim, I have read about your past work,“ Dubbliex replied as he stood up and put a hand on his friends shoulder. “You have accomplished so much and faced so many obstacles in your lifetime - most of which was done while you were raising the boys and having duel identities. You should not worry about your capabilities now, just because you have gotten older. Have faith in yourself; I already do.”
Harper glanced over at his friend. Most people in the Project were very uncomfortable being around Dubbliex, though he had been a fixture at the project for many years, but Harper had never been one of them. Over the years Dubbliex had become a friend and confidant to Harper. He smiled.
“Thanks, Dub,” he replied. He sighed.
“You are still troubled, my friend.”
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Westfield, but this is the first time that we’ve had to worry about a possible security breach. Both Superman and Supergirl will be determined to find out what’s going on after last night. It won’t be easy to keep them away from this.”
“Have you taken any precautions to make sure they don’t find out?” Dubbilex asked.
“There’s not much to do, Dub. It was a security risk for the boys to be out and for me fighting Supergirl, but I don’t think with all the measures we’ve taken that anyone will be able to find us, much less learn about the Project itself. We’ve gone this long undetected; I don’t think our luck’s run out just yet.”
Dubbilex nodded and looked at the clock on Harper’s nightstand. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, Jim, I’ll let you get some rest.” He left his friend’s room, closing the door behind him. Harper went over and locked the door, then he walked over to his bed and carefully lay down. He was so exhausted that he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
(End of Chapter 12)
