I'm sorry, who are you? And how do you know my Father? Lois says confused and concerned. She stands in the doorway, holding the doorknob, hesitant to open it any further or to even open the screen door to this woman. Despite her supposed history with her Father, Lois got a bad feeling in her gut the moment she saw Brooke King.
Your Father and I were colleagues Ms. Lane, Brooke says in a warming yet impatient tone. I'm not here for formalities, Brooke thought. Now is there any chance I could come in because the information I would like to share with you is not meant to be said in a front doorway.
Of course, of course, come in, Lois says. She opens the screen door with her left hand and gestures towards the kitchen island for Brooke to take a seat.
Would you like something to drink, Ms…
King, Brooke said, and no thank you.
Lois sits down to the side of Brooke and wonders what this woman is here to tell her. Her hands are shaking, her heart is racing. She for whatever reason doesn't trust her. But if her Dad worked with her, obviously she is a good person, right?
So, Ms. Lane, first of all, my condolences in the loss of your Father. He was an amazing man.
Yes he was, Lois agrees quietly. Instantly all of her feelings of loss and grief hit her at once.
A few tears escape and Lois wipes them irritatingly from her eyes. Sorry, I'm not doing so well.
Brooke looks at Lois with a concerned, sympathetic face. It's okay Lois. You aren't going to get much better.
Lois looked at Brooke to ask her what that meant, but she couldn't even get the word What out of her mouth. Lois was face to face with a revolver.
What, what are you doing?! Lois shouted.
You're coming with me Ms. Lane. Whether you like it or not. Brooke points the gun at Lois' face with her one hand and grabs her right arm with the other. She shoves Lois violently out the door. Lois tries to fight back but is struggling because it is then that she realizes that Brooke shot her, with a tranquilizer.
The front yard is swirling all around her. She sees the yellow siding of the house, the American flag from the front porch flapping in the wind, the bright blue and cloudy sky in a giant twirl, as her head slams on the sidewalk.
Help me get her in the van, Brooke orders. We have to get her out of here before he returns. Mr. Luthor will be pleased.