"You think I have the money for extensive rebuilding?" Tony sneered. "You think I can afford to close down the hotel for months?"
"I don't think you have any choice," Barry said quietly.
A slow smile whittled through Tony's sour expression. "That's where you're wrong," he said. "I do have a choice. And I'm choosing to do what I need to do to protect my hotel."
"But if you kill us, it will only put off the inevitable. All your staff will start getting sick."
"Not if I fire them after a few months."
"Someone will hear the gunshot," Barry said, alarm pulsing through his tone.
"We're only a few blocks from Suicide Slum," Tony said nonchalantly. "I doubt anyone will notice."
Barry's hand dropped to his side. "You won't get away with this," he said. "Mr friend's uncle is a detec-"
"Yes, I will," Tony said. "She's a whore. You have probably made dubious connections through that community house you keep blabbing on about. You're nothing more than two misguided college students who were lured into the wrong neighbourhood. It was inevitable, really." He raised the revolver. "Now, get out of the way. My mother raised me to believe that ladies should go first."
Part 13
Lois examined Clark's drawing. It was Barry Russo. In precise detail.
"Well?" Clark said.
"It's him," she said triumphantly. "It's Barry. Exactly as I remember him. He can't be Tempus."
"Are you sure?"
Lois grinned. "Positive. You lose. You owe me -" Inside her chest, her heart reeled, thundering a rhythm of scorching panic. She whirled around, half expecting something or someone to have appeared behind her.
Clark seized her arm. "What is it, Lois?"
She turned back to him, seeing her fear mirrored in his face. "I feel ... scared. Terrified. My heart is racing. My throat ... You need to find young Lois. Now!"
The backdraught of rushing air mingled with the sound of a slamming door, and Clark was gone.
Lois collapsed onto the bed, entangled in an unseen net of gripping, paralysing terror.
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Barry had refused to move aside.
He'd faced Tony in defiance of the weapon and the threats. He'd made a couple more pleas, but Lois had known they would do nothing more than postpone the inevitable. There was a manic edge to Tony's behaviour that took him beyond the reach of reason.
He was going to kill both of them. Here. Now. She was going to die in the basement of the North-Western Hotel. Her whole life had spanned eighteen years. It wasn't enough. She hadn't even started to do all the things she wanted to do.
"Have it your way," Tony said when Barry again refused to comply with his order to step aside. "You deserve to die first - for your stubborn stupidity, if nothing else."
Lois closed her eyes. In the eerie vacuum of trepidation, the muted whisper of Tony lifting his arm painted horrifyingly real pictures across her mind. She held her breath. Waited.
It came.
The deafening explosion of sound.
A loud shriek pierced the air.
The reservoir of her breath dried up, and the shriek echoed away. She dragged in another breath to scream again.
"It's OK, Lois. No one is going to hurt you."
The voice was calm. It found her through the darkness and surrounded her like a covering of protection. She was going to be safe.
Lois prised open her eyes.
Barry was standing - *standing* - next to her. She skimmed over him for blood, and finding none, her eyes darted to Tony.
She couldn't see him. A broad back blocked her view.
Robert James.
"All right." Tony's voice reverberated through the basement, cold and hard. "I'll kill all three of you."
"You won't be killing anyone," Robert James said in a voice reinforced with steel. "Not this time."
The scream of gunfire ruptured the air. Robert James sprang forward. Lois lurched towards him. Half a step later, she realised he was still moving. Freely. He hadn't been shot. Her feet froze as she stared numbly at the scene playing out in front of her.
Robert James had knocked Tony to the ground and was holding him there, easily pinning both wrists against one shoulder. Robert James plucked the revolver from Tony's hand.
There was probably a good twenty years difference in age, but even so, Lois was stunned at the absolute ease and fearless manner with which Robert James had coolly disarmed the flailing, obscenity-riddled, abuse-spewing hotel owner.
Robert James turned his attention from Tony. "Barry," he ordered. "Go and call the police."
"Yes, sir." Barry scrambled up the steps and through the open door.
Tony stilled from his mindless and futile struggle, and he straightened sufficiently to look past his captor. "I'll give you the hotel," he said to Lois, his voice crackly with desperation. "Half for you, half for Barry. Sell it, and use the money to get your education."
"She doesn't want your hotel," Robert James growled. "She doesn't want anything from you."
"I'm not speaking to you," Tony snapped. The anger leached from his face. "Please, Ms Lane," he begged. "This is just a misunderstanding. It's nothing that can't be worked out by two sensible people."
"You tried to shoot me," Lois accused.
"I panicked," Tony said. "I'm sorry. This hotel means everything to me. I just wanted -"
"You tried to kill me."
"I was scared," Tony said, sounding like a small boy. "I was scared of losing my whole future."
"You've given up your right to a future," Robert James said harshly.
Tony turned his attention from Lois. "Please," he whimpered to Robert James. "This has nothing to do with you. Please, just let me go. I promise I won't hurt anyone."
Robert James looped Tony's shirt in the curl of his fist and leaned closer. "Did you really think I wouldn't come after you?" he rasped. "Did you really think I would let you hurt her?"
"That's him?" Lois shrieked. "*Tony* is the one who was trying to hurt your wife?" She advanced on the men. "Are you stupid?" she demanded of Robert James. "You brought your wife to *this* hotel? You thought Tony wanted to hurt her, and you brought her *here*? At least it explains why you were so paranoid about keeping her hidden."
"I didn't -" Tony's squeak of protest was chopped off by one glare from Robert James.
"I didn't know it was him until I'd already checked in," Robert James said.
"I've never seen him before," Tony said, his eyes volleying between Lois and Robert James. "I'm not involved in any trouble. I swear I've haven't done anything wrong."
Robert James turned on Tony, his face livid with resentment. "You killed -" He swallowed roughly. "Never again," he vowed. "Never again will you have the chance to hurt anyone."
Tony slumped against the wall, his fight gone. Lois stared at her boss. He'd killed before? And Robert James knew? Tony had seen her coming out of room 518. Had he assumed that Robert James had told her secrets from Tony's past? Is that why he'd wanted to kill her? That made more sense than murdering her because of something as unsubstantiated as Barry's lead poisoning theory.
Lois felt tears push against her eyelids. What sort of a reporter was she? She'd been right in the middle of this and had become fixated on the wrong person. She'd thought Robert James was the bad guy. But without him, she'd be a corpse now. Had he known she'd needed him? He couldn't have. But if he'd come a few seconds later ...
Her knees seemed to turn to putty, and her stomach caved in on its emptiness. She stumbled and reached for the wall for support.
Robert James rocked onto his feet and straightened. "Don't move," he ordered Tony. He approached Lois, put his hand on her waist to steady her, and looked down with soft brown eyes that were brimming with concern. "You OK?" he murmured.
There was movement from Tony. Lois looked past Robert James to see the hotel owner gathering himself in preparation to rise.
"Sit down," Robert James barked, not even bothering to turn around.
"You won't shoot me," Tony sneered. "I know your type. Full of lofty principles that amount to nothing useful. If I stood up and ran, what would you do?"
"I would hit you into next week," Robert James said. His words had the potential to be amusing, but there was nothing light-hearted in his tone.
Tony had detected it, too. He sagged against the wall, staring balefully at Lois.
Robert James lifted his hand from Lois, but stayed close enough that she was sure it would return if she showed the slightest sign of unsteadiness. The effects of his touch - light and inconsequential though it had been - were still humming through her body, creating a weird sensation of how comforting it would be to lean into his broad chest and let him hold her up for a while. "Everything's going to be OK," he said. "No one's going to hurt you now."
And she believed him.
Lois Lane - who considered her distrustful nature to be her greatest asset - believed him.
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Sam Lane climbed the fourth flight of stairs. He'd arrived at the North-Western Hotel, introduced himself to the receptionist, and asked for Lois. The receptionist had told him that Lois was busy, and despite persistence that had bordered on bullying, she had steadfastly refused to try to contact his daughter. Sorely tempted to turn around and walk out, Sam had found enough restraint to inquire if the receptionist happened to know the room of the sick woman.
"That would be room 518," she'd replied. "Lois was asking about her yesterday."
Sam had sighed with resignation. "What is her name?"
"Mrs James. Mary."
"Do you mind if I go on up?" Sam had asked.
"No."
So he'd begun climbing the stairs. He reached the fifth floor and found the door marked '518'.
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Lois Kent's heart rate had slowed, and the gushing rivers of fear had begun to disperse from her body.
Something had threatened young Lois, and Lois's natural instinct was to tear out of the door, down the stairs, and into the midst of the action.
But although she knew the layout of the hotel, she didn't know Lois's location. She didn't know who was trying to hurt her. She couldn't risk running into young Lois. Or Carol. Or Steve, the chef. Or Tony. Exasperating though it was, she had to stay here.
Tony. Her angry, never-satisfied boss.
Was *he* Tempus?
Was he the one who had threatened Lois's life?
Lois was sure Barry wasn't Tempus. Clark's drawing had been photographic in quality, leaving her with no question that the Barry Russo who had followed young Lois home last night was exactly the same person she had known in college.
Paul had been the most obvious choice, but he was in Jersey, and there hadn't been enough time for him to travel back to Metropolis.
As her boss, Tony provided Tempus with similar advantages to those that had led Lois to focus on Paul as the most likely incarnation of the time-travelling murderer.
But she shouldn't dismiss the other hotel employees. Steve. And Mark, the porter-cum-odd job man. And Darren, the -
A knock sounded. Crisp and decisive.
Lois sat up and stared at the door, wishing she had Clark's x-ray vision.
Who would knock on her door?
Not Clark, obviously.
Young Lois?
Tony?
Carol?
What should she do?
She couldn't open it.
She couldn't respond verbally.
Her curiosity surged. She desperately wanted to know what was happening with young Lois. Whoever was at the door might have news. But she felt hobbled by Clark's caution. She hadn't heard Wells' warning firsthand, but she had seen Clark's deep anxiety about doing anything that could adversely affect their lives in 1993.
"Hello? Mrs James?"
Lois's mind whirled. Her heart torpedoed through her abdomen. She had thought she would never hear that voice again.
It was her father.
Lois swallowed down a gulp, but it rose again, pushing up tears of grief and loss and a hovering cloud of numbed disbelief.
Her *father* was outside the door - just a few feet away. Alive.
Lois had never had the chance to say goodbye to him. She'd never had a final opportunity to tell him that, despite all the mistakes, all the arguments, all the animosity, she loved him.
"Mrs James? Mary? My name is Sam Lane. I'm a doctor. I believe that you haven't been feeling well."
What should she do?
Take the chance she'd been impossibly given? Risk her future for one final glimpse? A couple of words? One last memory?
Was there any chance he wouldn't recognise her? Could it be possible to answer the door as 'Mrs James' - steal a few precious moments with her father, and then close that chapter of her life - without him ever realising that he'd been speaking with his daughter? His Lois?
Lois stood slowly, wiping away the sheet of tears.
Was there any way to try to influence the future? Could she beg him not to go on that fateful date with her mother?
If she did try to change the future, would there be consequences? Could saving her parents jeopardise the love she shared with Clark?
She couldn't see how; she had already met Clark and been a long way towards falling in love with him when her parents had died.
Since their deaths, Lois had tortured herself with regrets, rueing that she hadn't spoken up, hadn't taken her chances, hadn't tried to work out something better in her relationship with her parents.
She wanted both of her parents alive when she returned to 1993. She wanted the opportunity to go to them and say all the things she had yearned to say since their deaths.
She wanted a second chance for her family. Her dad. Her mom. Lucy.
She wanted to see if they could be more like the Kents. If they could be friends instead of awkward acquaintances, forever joined by blood, forever separated by memories of a turbulent past.
"Dad," she whispered through her tears. Her fingers gripped the tiny stethoscope on her charm bracelet. "Dad."
Lois took a shaky, hesitant step towards the door. Towards re-shaping destiny. Towards restoring what she had lost.
Towards her dad ... whom she missed so much.
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Barry's hurrying footsteps preceded his breathless and panicked return to the basement. His eyes scanned the scene, and seeing Tony still sitting on the floor and the weapon lying harmlessly on a barrel, he took a huge breath, releasing the coiled tension from his stance. His eyes settled on Lois. "Are you all right?" he asked.
She nodded. "Are you? He didn't hit you, did he?"
Barry shook his head and stretched a shaky hand past Robert James to lightly touch her shoulder. "No," he said. "He didn't hit me."
"Did you call the police?" Robert James asked.
"Carol did," Barry answered. "They are on their way."
"Thank you for standing in front of me," Lois said to Barry.
"I was too scared to move," he said with an awkward smile.
Lois returned his smile. He was a lot nicer than she had realised. Perhaps they could be friends. Except ... right now, he was staring at her in a way that made her feel just a bit uncomfortable, so she shifted her gaze to Robert James. He was watching her, too.
Her eyes met his.
Locked.
And Lois felt ... something.
He was too old, she told herself. And he was married.
Then, he smiled.
And she was besieged by a wave of yearning - something inexpressible, something intangible, a hint of what it would be like to be loved by a man like Robert James.
It could never be, of course. He was hopelessly in love with his wife. And he seemed to be the sort of man who would give away his heart only once in his whole life.
The woman in his room ... Lois's envy rose like steam.
She tore away from his gaze, angry with herself.
What was wrong with her? Why was she always attracted to men who were unavailable?
Robert James stepped closer to her and looked down with a smile that was pure magic. "Everything's going to be fine now," he said. "You'll write great stories. You'll graduate from college. You'll be a star reporter for a great newspaper."
But would she find a man who would love her? A man who would talk about her the way Robert James talked about his wife? A man who cared whether she was happy or not? A man who might stand up to her, but would never stand over her?
A second flash of insight brought certain conviction that Paul Bender could never be that man. He just wasn't ... He wasn't ... He wasn't *right*. Not for her.
He never would be. He could never love any woman the way Robert James loved his wife.
Barry put a light hand on Lois's shoulder. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Still a bit shaky," she said. She tried to add a laugh, but it caught in her throat and came out sounding strangled.
Looking a little embarrassed at his forwardness, Barry thrust his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket and nodded up the stairs. "Carol said your dad is here. Something about a woman in one of the rooms. She asked -"
Robert James was suddenly gone from their little group. He yanked a length of old rope from a nail in the wall and crouched next to Tony, quickly looping his wrists together and then securing his ankles. Robert James picked up the gun and shoved it into Barry's hand. "Lois," he said. "Get up the stairs. Barry, keep the gun trained on him. Don't let him move. The police will be here any moment."
"Where are you going?" Barry asked as he looked askance at the gun in his hand.
"I have to go," Robert James said. "Watch him. Whatever he promises you, ignore him. He might tell you fanciful stories, but don't believe a word he says." He grasped Lois's elbow and hustled her up the stairs. At the top, he said, "Go and check that Carol is all right and get an update on when the police should arrive."
"You're going to stop my father from seeing your wife, aren't you?"
"I ... Yes."
Without further explanation, he leapt up the stairs, taking them three at a time. When he was out of sight, Lois slipped down towards Barry. "Are you all right?" she asked.
He was holding the gun as if it could explode without warning. "Yeah," he said.
From the opposite wall of the basement, Tony looked up at them with a hopeful smile. "I'm sure you can see that this is just a little misunderstanding," he said. "Let's go up to my office and -"
Lois's chaotic bundle of emotions erupted. "It was *not* a misunderstanding," she shouted. "You tried to kill me. Over a stupid hotel." Except, she was sure it was more than that. A *lot* more than that. And it involved Robert James and his wife.
Tony slipped his tied wrists over his arched knees and began working at the knots at his ankles. "All I'm asking is that you step aside," he said. "You keep the gun. I go past you and take my chances."
"What did you do?" Lois asked. "How do you know Robert James?"
"Robert James?" Tony asked. "Is that the man who came down here, interfering into something that has nothing to do with him?" He wrenched at the ropes, but they held firm.
"It has everything to do with him," Lois said. "He thinks you want to kill his wife."
Tony stopped pulling at the ropes and stared at her. "His wife? I didn't even know he had a wife. Until he broke through the door, I had never seen him before."
Had Robert James been chasing the wrong man? Or was Tony lying? Robert James had warned them against believing him.
Tony freed one end of the rope from the jumble of knots around his ankles and looked up triumphantly. "He's not the hero you both think he is," he said. "In a few more moments, I'll be free."
Barry lifted the gun, but there was no conviction in his action.
"What are you going to do?" Tony derided. "When the police arrive, they're not going to believe two stupid kids."
"You fired the gun," Lois said indignantly. "Twice. The police won't need to believe us. They'll find the bullets."
"I'll tell them Robert James fired the gun. His fingerprints are all over it." He nodded to Barry. "So are yours."
"We'll tell them the truth - that you fired the gun and Robert James stopped you from killing us," Lois said.
"I'll tell them about your sordid little rendezvous in his room," Tony retorted. "Nothing you say about him will have any credibility at all."
"There will be shot residue on your hands," Barry said before Lois could respond to Tony's allegation. "You can't change that."
Tony released another portion of the rope. "Then we're back to where we started," he said. "Before I escape, I'll kill both of you. There's no one here to stop me now."
"We have the gun," Lois said.
"But you won't use it," Tony said. "He's scared of it, and you're a screeching little girl."
Lois met Barry's eyes. Would they? If Tony escaped from the ropes and came for the gun, would they shoot first? Would they kill to avoid being killed?
Lois saw the answer on Barry's face. He wouldn't. He couldn't.
But she would.
Lois snatched the gun from Barry and aimed it at Tony. "I will do it," she warned. "If you stand up, I will shoot you."
His laugh rasped with contempt. Then he returned his attention to the ropes confining his ankles.
Lois and Barry waited, straining for the first sound that would announce the arrival of the police.
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Clark zoomed up the stairs to the fifth floor.
To his immense relief, there was a figure waiting outside the closed door of room 518. Clark rounded the final turn at human speed, and the man turned. Clark recognised him from Lois's photographs.
It was his father-in-law. Sam Lane.
Clark stepped forward, his hand outstretched. "I'm Robert James," he said. "This is my room."
Lois's father shook Clark's hand, although the gesture reeked of disinterest. "I'm Dr Sam Lane," he said. "I was informed that your wife was sick."
"She was," Clark said. "But she has made a full recovery."
"Now that I'm here, I might as well see her. I don't expect payment -"
"Dr Lane?" Clark said. "Are you related to Lois Lane, one of the employees?"
"Yes. She's my daughter."
Clark took a step closer. "Your daughter is fine," he said. "But there has been a nasty incident. The police will be here soon."
"The police?"
"Two shots were fired."
"Is Lois all right?"
"No one was hurt, but I think she'd be glad to see her father."
Sam brushed past Clark and strode along the corridor.
"Dr Lane?"
He turned at the top of the stairs.
"Thank you," Clark said gravely. "Thank you for checking on my wife."
The doctor nodded and began descending the stairs.
Clark watched him move away, plagued with indecision. He couldn't leave it there. He had to say something. But what? He ran to the stairs. Dr Lane stopped and looked up at him. "Was there something else?" he asked impatiently.
"You ... you can't go back," Clark said. "When something has finished, it's over."
Dr Lane's eyebrows dipped with incomprehension.
"If a relationship finishes ... a marriage ... it's best to move on. If you try to mark occasions that are no longer special ... people get hurt."
"Are you going to divorce your wife?"
"No!" Clark exclaimed. Then he added, "But if I did, I wouldn't date her again. It would be over. We would both move on. We would live separate lives."
With a slight shake of his head, Dr Lane continued down the stairs.
Clark turned and hurried to his room. To his Lois.
