The sun had already set over Metropolis as Perry White made his way to the empty parking lot around the corner from the Daily Planet building. He had promised his wife Alice that he would be home for dinner, and in time to tuck their son into bed for the night. Looking at his watch, Perry knew he was already an hour late on full filling his first commitment to her. When he reached his car he fumbled with the keys in his pocket as he pulled them out into the dim lights of the garage structure.
Reaching the keyhole with his keys, he felt a sudden shiver trace up his spine and a sense of danger lurking close by over came him. Perry turned quickly to see a very large man standing behind him. Before he could react, the larger man slammed his bare fist into Perry's face knocking him hard against the vehicle.
Perry grunted as he fell to his knees. Blood was coming from the corner of his mouth, which he found when he tried to test his jaw for damage. The attacker left no time for recovery as he swung his large foot into Perry's rib cage with great force.
Doubling over Perry was able to grunt out, "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
The man had placed his right hand on Perry's head and positioned his left fist high above him about to come down with a force. Perry thought quickly using his left arm and was able to block the fist, which, instead of smashing into his head or neck, cracked against his forearm. Perry screamed in pain as he was sure that his arm was now broken.
He slumped to the dirty ground and held his arm as the man lingered over him. "What are you going to do to me?" He cursed.
"You need to be taught a lesson on how to mind your own business," The grunt of a voice told him. "My employer wants you to stop your investigation into the Luthor accident."
"Who's your employer?" Perry asked through the pain as he looked up and saw the silhouette of the very large man.
"You don't need to know that," the voice grunted as his right foot met Perry's already, tender ribs, again.
"Argh!" Perry let out the loudest scream he had ever heard come from his own mouth. Then another fist came down on the top of his head just over his left eye, ripping the skin and crashing his head against the metal door of his own car.
Perry slumped foreword again and waited for the next blow. He only prayed that this beating would be over soon and he would be allowed to live and return to his wife and son. He waited with his head down for a few seconds, but no new strikes came. He could hear a struggling sound before him, so Perry decided he would slowly look up.
After a few short seconds, Perry raised his pain filled head into the shadow of the man who lingered over him. Between the blood in his eyes and the pain induced blur, not to mention the light behind his assailant being bright in his face, Perry thought he could see the larger man struggling with what appeared to be a slightly smaller person hanging off his back.
Perry took the opportunity and backed himself against the car hoping it would provide any comfort what so ever. He was in no shape to get up and run away just yet. He watched as the two men struggled with each other. He had already wondered who his attacker was, and now he was trying to figure out who would be stupid enough to wrestle such a large person to save him.
After a few more moments of a struggle, Perry watched as the smaller man's shadow reached around and grabbed the man's forehead and twisted his head swiftly in an unnatural direction. A horrendously sickening and muffled cracking sound of bones being broken and flesh being torn followed the movement. The sound was followed by the instant stop of motion from the large man. His hands were in the air reaching for the smaller man when the noise sounded. Now they hung in mid air for a few seconds and then quickly fell to his side. The smaller man jumped off and watched for a few more seconds as the larger one seemed to float in the space around him and then with out anymore commotion, slump to the floor.
His head hit Perry's lap and he could see blood draining from the man's mouth and ears. His eyes were wide open, but his neck was twisted in a manner that he was sure no human being could ever hope to achieve. It didn't take a medical degree for Perry to know that the other man had broken this man's neck, and he was now dead. Quickly he used his good hand and pushed him away.
"Are you alright, White?" the new shadow asked in a much more humane voice.
"Yeah, yes," Perry stuttered. "Who--who are you and why did you kill this man?"
"Who I am is unimportant," the shadow said. "You need to get yourself to a hospital."
"I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers," Perry tried to be stern as his face grimaced in pain. "Who are you people?"
"That man," a black-gloved hand pointed to the dead body. "He was a hired thug by Lionel Luthor to work you over in hopes of you stopping the investigation into his son's death."
"And who are you?" Perry looked up again.
"I was hired by some people who want to see Lionel Luthor pay for his sins," the shadow spoke. "There are some people who want you to tell your story."
"I don't even know what the story is," Perry insisted. "What should I be looking for?"
"I can't tell you that," the shadow began to walk away. "Just know that you are aiming in the right direction."
"Wait!" Perry screamed at the man that he could now see who was dressed all in black with a tightly woven ski mask over his face. "Who are you?"
The man stopped and looked back. "Some call me Death Stroke," he answered.
"Whom do you work for?" Perry thought he would push the limits.
The man remained silent and Perry thought he could see the man smile under the mask with no hole for his mouth. Then the man pulled a lighter out of his pocket and held it up to the sprinkler a few feet over his head. The flames touch the sprinkler, which set it off and all the sprinkler heads around them began to spew water. A loud screeching alarmed began and Death Stroke returned his lighter to his pocket.
"That should bring help for you in a few minutes," he said and then turned and disappeared into the shadows again.
Perry leaned his head against the car and let the water run down his injured face. He held tightly to his injured arm as he took another look at the assailant who laid dead just a few inches from his hurting body.
"Dear, God," he looked up into the heavens. "What I have gotten myself into?"
The water continued to fall and the alarm continued to sound as Perry waited for the help that he too knew would come.
The long black limousine pulled up in front of 'The Edge,' a comedy club on the upper west side of Gotham City. The club was ablaze with lights on the outside and Clark watched through the tinted windows of the car as people waited patiently to be allowed in. By the crowd that appeared, they could tell that this was a very popular and trendy place where not everyone was allowed to enter as some of the people on the sidewalk were now discovering.
Alfred stepped out of the driver's seat and walked around to the rear passenger door and opened it. Bruce Wayne in a smart dark blue suit was the first to step out. He turned and held his hand as Lana's hand came out of the vehicle and grasped it. He helped her to exit the car. Lana was wearing a teal blue evening gown with matching shawl, which Bruce thought made her look breathtaking, and he was right.
Clark was the next to emerge wearing a smart black suit with a royal blue dress shirt and matching silk tie. He held his hand out and Chloe took it as he helped her out of the car. She was wearing a soft pink strapless gown that also had a matching shawl that she let fall back and wore over her arms. They were all stunning and even after refusing the offer of new clothes for the evening by Bruce, they were shocked that Alfred was able to acquire the outfits that fit them perfectly and in the perfect styles for each one of their personalities.
Alfred took a moment to admire his handy work as they gathered together outside the club. "I must say," he commented. "You do all look quite smashing this evening."
"Yeah," Clark tugged at his lapel. "It's amazing what a two thousand dollar suit can do for a guy."
"Well, I personally love my Vera Wang," Lana smiled and gave them a twirl as her long skit danced in the breeze.
"Personally," Chloe added with a sour look. "This makes me feel that if I so much as put a wrinkle in this outfit when I sit down, the fashion police are going to show up and haul me off to fashion prison in Moulin or someplace stupid like that."
"I think you all look great," Bruce gave them one of his rare smiles. "Even you, Clark. You look so GQ in that suit. Have you ever done any modeling?"
"Me?" Clark blushed. "No, I could never pose or take my clothes off in front of a camera or anything like that."
"Yeah, right," Chloe chuckled. "Clark a model? The next thing you'll tell us is that you think Lana should be pushing makeup products."
"Oh, well," Bruce shrugged. "I guess we better get inside."
"I shall go park the vehicle and wait for your call for my return," Alfred announced to Bruce as he stepped away and returned to the driver's seat.
"Are you sure we can get in?" Clark asked loudly over the noise of the crowd as they approached the door.
Bruce stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at him. "Clark," he put his hand over his chest. "I'm Bruce Wayne."
"Oh, yeah," Clark shrugged with a forced dumb look on his face. "What was I thinking? My bad."
The line at the front door nearly stretched to the end of the block, but Bruce led his group to the front of the line. They all watched him attentively as he approached the doorman and gave him his best playboy smile. "My friends and I are here to enjoy the show," he said into the man's ear as their hands met in a brisk handshake.
"Of course Mr. Wayne," the large burley man grinned accepting the hand. "Step right inside."
Clark watched as they're hands separated and he could swear he saw some green and white paper slip from Bruce's palm to the bouncer's hand. He gave himself a rye smirk as it accrued to him, 'So that's how the rich do it.'
The inside of the club was bigger than anything the Smallville gang had ever been in, but given their limited history of night clubbing, this was perhaps the only club they had ever been in. Clark was shocked at the size of the large colorful and dazzling room. He was sure that they could fit four Talons into this place and maybe a Beanery or two for good measure.
They all stared at the hordes of people who were mingling around and enjoying each other's company. The room was filled with small wooden tables with a set of four high back chairs in abstract designs at each. Along the right wall was a large bar area with a mirror covering the entire wall that was lined with various types of alcohol bottles. The left wall was the emergency door and restrooms were located along with the entrance to the kitchen where the hot snack foods were prepared. The table settings were spread out around the room in a fan like position with a small modest stage in the center of the far wall as its center point where the comedians would strut their stuff. The walls and furnishings were all silver and shinny and shimmered as they made their way through the masses towards their table.
A hostess showed them to a small table near the front and off to the left side of the stage close to where the restrooms were located. One side of the table was to the sidewall, and it was there that Bruce placed himself after seating Lana to his right. Clark sat to Bruce's left and Chloe sat to his left. Chloe had the seat with the stage directly behind her, but Clark planned that she would be able to turn her seat and Lana and Bruce could still see over her as opposed to trying to see around his tall frame.
A cute, young, female waitress with short blond hair in curls wearing a black and white waiter's outfit came over to the table. "May I get you something to drink?" she asked.
"Pepsi all around," Bruce called out to her. "If that's alright with everyone?" he turned to his guest.
They all nodded their approvals. "We will also start out with a sample platter of you finger foods."
"Very, well," she wrote down his instructions and then disappeared.
Clark was surprised that Bruce did not order a hard drink for himself. Was he trying to fit in and be polite, or was he trying to somehow impress Lana with his own self-control?
"I don't know if we can eat after that great food at the restaurant," Lana told Bruce.
"The snacks will be here just incase," Bruce stared into her eyes. "So did you enjoy the restaurant?"
"It was so elegant and beautiful," Lana commented staring back in his eyes. "And so expensive."
"I wanted to impress you on our first night out," Bruce told her.
"Oh, and you did," she cooed back.
"Yeah," an annoyed Clark joined in. "We have a restaurant just like it back in Smallville," he told them. "Only we call 'The Outback Steakhouse.'"
Chloe could not help but snort back a laugh. She could not believe that Clark was behaving like this. After all this time of playing tug-a-war with Lana's feeling and finally admitting that their relationship was going nowhere, he was still jealous of her attention towards another man.
Lana took her eyes off of Bruce long enough to give Clark the evil eye.
Clark looked away, but was clearly proud with himself for the cheap shot. He then began to look over the patrons in the rest of the club. Everything seemed normal so far, and he was not ready to use his x-ray vision where so many people could see him and wonder why he was staring at the walls.
"Chloe," he leaned into her ear on the opposite side where Bruce could not see and hopefully not hear him. Yet with all his attention on Lana, it would surprise Clark if the playboy noticed anything else at all.
"What?" Chloe returned in a whisper as she too turned away from the table.
"Have you spotted anything suspicious, yet?" he asked.
"Clark," she sighed. "We've been here, like, five seconds. I don't think we've had time to spot anything."
"I know, but you have a natural gift for spotting anything out of place," he whispered back.
"Yeah," Chloe rolled her eyes. "It's kinda like Lana's gift of being able to suck the life out of any good looking guy in the room."
Clark raised his eyebrow in disapproval.
"I know," she tossed her eyes again. "Disk the billionaire play toy all we want, but the prom queen is the neutral zone."
"Thanks," he grinned with his boyish charm that always sent Chloe's heart into a flutter. "Now back to our plan."
"Bruce Wayne," a larger than life voice bellowed out above the rest of the sounds in the room. "If it's not my old friend, Bruce Wayne,"
They all looked up to see a man in his late thirties with light brown hair, bordering on red, and a mustache to match. He wore a thin, pin-striped maroon suit that would have looked out of place on anyone else, but seemed to fit in with this man's over the top personality. It also helped that the suite seemed close in color to his hair. He was a fairly built man who was not overweight, but was not slender either. He flashed a big, white smile as he approached the table.
"Morgan Edge," Bruce stood up. "You old dog. They told me the other night that you were still out of town on business."
"I was, I was," the jollier man replied. "I just got back this evening. My people told me that you were casing my place these last few weeks. You're not setting me up for a buy out are you now, Bruce."
"No Morgan," Bruce grinned. "I could never run this place as well as you. My own mother use to joke that us Wayne men didn't know comedy from crime."
"Ah," Morgan frowned. "Sometimes with these acts, it's hard to tell the difference."
Bruce laughed along with his old friend. "Oh, by the way," he gestured to the groups. "These are some new friends of mine." He pointed each one out. "This is Chloe Sullivan, my date Lana Lang, and our friend, Clark Kent."
"How do you do, sir?" Clark stood and shook Morgan's hand.
"Very well, young man," he grinned at the boy.
"Clark, girls," Bruce added. "This is Morgan Edge. He owns this club."
"You might say I'm the real edge to 'The Edge.'" Morgan joked.
Meanwhile, across the room, a stranger to the club stood alone in a corner that was hidden from the view of Bruce's table. He held his cell phone to his ear and waited for someone to pick up. After a few rings he heard a voice say, "Lionel Luthor."
"Mr. Luthor," the stranger spoke. "It's Summers. I have the three kids in my view right now at a club here in Gotham City."
"I was afraid of that," Lionel replied. "The fact that they are in Gotham at all means they are too close to the truth already."
"They seem to be getting in good with that Wayne guy, sir," Summers continued. "And that Morgan Edge guy is over at their table right now talking to them."
"Bruce Wayne is of no concern to me, but now that Morgan Edge is back in town, he could destroy everything" Lionel said. "You need to stop him before he talks to the kids. I want Morgan to be silenced. If he is responsible for our prior problems, then he is far more dangerous than I thought."
"What about the kids, sir?" Summers asked in a whisper.
"You need to stop Edge from speaking with them, Summers," Lionel was hesitant before continuing. "Once Morgan Edge is finished, then the problem should be solved, but if the kids get in the way or learn too much, then they will have to be dealt with."
"Yes, sir," Summers smiled as he removed the phone from his right ear revealing a large scar on his cheek. He placed the phone in his inside coat pocket and as he did, the silver metal of his concealed gun caught a glint of light and flashed along with all the other glitter in the room.
Once he moved away from the corner, a small girl stepped out of the shadows behind him. She was a very pretty young woman of about fourteen years old, and she was very out of place in this club, but she had connections. Her tight, silver, evening gown with the slits on either side that went up to her thighs left little for the imagination. The neckline was low and exposed much of her young figure. The stiletto heels she wore helped to make her taller than her mere five foot frame and her very short black hair was gelled and combed very close to her head in an almost nineteen twenties style. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and she was concerned. She heard what the man was saying on his phone, and she saw the flash of the gun's stock in the light. The only question was what to do next.
"Salina!" Morgan Edge's loud voice called across the room. "Salina, get over here. I have some friends I want you to meet."
The young girl blushed as she realized she was being called, and everyone in the club was staring at her. She quickly made her way across the room using all her womanly charm, as Morgan had taught her to do. Her movement was cool and précised and she seemed to have no body weight as she glided along the thin line she made across the floor. She moved with the poise and grace of healthy feline. One could almost swear they could hear her purr as she passed them.
Once at the table, Morgan wrapped his stout arm around her tiny waist. "Ladies and Gentleman," Morgan grinned. "This is one of my best working girls. Salina Kyle, meet the gang."
"Hello," Clark nodded as the girls did the same.
"Salina Kyle," Chloe commented. "What and unusual name."
"I like it," Salina shot a rye look at her.
"Salina, these are our special guests tonight," Morgan told her with a large grin. "See what you can do to make them more comfortable." He swung her around and gently placed her on Clark's lap whom instantly turned red.
Morgan moved to the back of the table to talk to Bruce as the others watched Salina wrap her arms around Clark's neck and planted a red-hot kiss on his lips.
"So this is what he meant by saying 'working girl'," Chloe commented. "Am I completely invisible to everyone?"
Salina nuzzled into Clark's ear as she raised her eyes to see Summers approach the table while resting his hand on the weapon under his coat. She saw when he moved it that it had a silencer on the tip, so whatever he was planning to do, it was clear that Summers was going to do it here and now. Salina buried her face in Clark's neck again. Perhaps if she didn't see the assassin coming, then he really wasn't there. She prayed that that alone was enough to save these people.
Martha waited behind the glass partition at the Smallville prison wearing a bright orange prison suite. She was pacing back and forth and could hardly contain herself as she waited for her lawyer. It was late in the evening and she was the only prisoner in the visiting room. So she took the liberty of walking off her anguish. Her side of the glass was much roomier than her small prison cell she had to share with one other prisoner. The other inmate was a call girl and she and Martha were able to get along very well, but this small blessing did little to ease her fear over her family.
"Martha," a slightly heavy set African American man sat in one of the window boxes and picked up a phone.
"Bill," She reached her receiver plopping herself on the wooden seat. "Did you do what I asked you on the phone?" Her voice was rushed and panicked. "Did you see Jonathan?"
"Yes, Martha," He tried to smile for her. "I just left him a few minutes ago, and he's fine."
"Oh, thank God," Martha leaned into her hand. "I was so scared when I heard about Nell. I could not help wonder if Lionel had gotten to Jonathan, too."
"Now Martha," Bill warned. "We don't know that Lionel had anything to do with Nell's attack. The Luthor Corps employee who brought her into the hospital said he found her in the parking lot. Her purse, shoes, and all her money were gone. So the police are calling it a mugging until they know more from her."
Martha leaned back in the chair, but she was still clearly upset. "She's in a coma, Bill," she fumed. "She was on the Luthor property and now she's in a coma. She knows something, and Lionel did this to her to keep her from talking."
"Don't you think that you might be getting just a little paranoid, Martha?" Bill Ross asked her with a concerned look.
"Bill," Martha leaned forward with a furious look in her eyes. "You are our lawyer and our friend. Have you not been paying attention to what has been happening around Smallville since Luthor came to town? You have also seen what Lionel has been putting my family through these last few weeks."
Martha brushed her hair back in frustration as she continued. "My God, Bill, Jonathan and I are in jail on a ludicrous charge that we never committed, and Clark is on the run looking for clues that might lead him to what really happened to his dead friend. And now, Nell has been silenced."
"Oh come on, Martha," Bill cautioned. "It's the police who have pressed the charges. Lionel waved all his rights to prosecution. As for Clark, they just want him to answer a few questions. He's free to go home right after he answers them. He's the one who went into hiding."
"If everything is going according to the law, then why has it been three days and Jonathan and I have not been arraigned yet?" She asked him with tear in her eyes. "You are the lawyer around here. Don't we have a legal right to a bail hearing and arraignment within twenty-four hours of our arrest? For goodness sake, Bill. Your wife, Sandra, is a judge. Couldn't she help move this thing along?"
"I told you why they haven't had a hearing yet," Bill sighed. "All the court's computers were hit by some virus and it will take a few days until they can sort this whole thing out. In the meantime, they do not dare to set bail for anyone until they have all the proper information on the case. It's completely legal to hold people for an extra few days in times of emergencies like this." He leaned forward. "I'm sorry Martha, but my hands are tied right now."
Martha seemed to collect herself but still had a stern look on her face. She leaned even closer into the glass and gestured for him to do the same. When they were inches apart with only a sheet of glass between them, she spoke into the receiver again. "We are overlooking one very important thing," she spoke softly and deliberately slow. "Who sent the virus to the court's computers?"
Bill was silent as he realized what she was getting at.
"Lionel Luthor has destroyed the court's computers so he can get us out of his way, just like he did when he planted those emptied booze bottles in our trash to frame us for Lex's death," She explained to him. "Now, somehow, Nell has gotten involved and he has found a way to remove her, too."
Martha sat silent for a moment and then her eyes grew large. "Wait a minute, Bill," She thought out loud. "I remember Clark telling us that the Luthor Corps computers were hit by a virus a few months ago. I remember him worrying about Lex getting all upset and wondering what his father would do to the company if he couldn't fix them fast enough."
"What's your point, Martha?" A perplexed Bill asked.
"Clark told us that the virus reacted very strangely," Martha recalled. "The virus did not destroy or harm any of the files, but it made it impossible for the people to get to them. It was like there was a wall placed in the hard drive that kept them out. Once the virus was destroyed, the computers and files were all returned to normal. Clark said it was like the hackers only wanted to make things hard and slow down the system but not destroy it."
"I," Bill stuttered. "Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this, Martha, but that sounds like the same virus that hit the court files. Everything is intact, but they just can't retrieve the information. The hackers must have attacked us, too."
"No, Bill," Martha returned with a concerned look. "Lex found the hackers and they were arrested. The virus was destroyed and Luthor Corps were the only ones infected."
"What are you saying, Martha?" He asked.
"I am saying that the only people with that knowledge and capabilities of that virus, were Luthor Corps employees," Martha almost whispered. "I would wager that they were the ones who sent the virus and that they still have the antidote to fix it."
Bill swallowed the lump in his throat.
"What's next, Bill?" she asked with haunted eyes. "What or who will Lionel go after next?"
He was unable to speak a word. The whole plot was becoming to clear for him, and Bill Ross was afraid.
The room was still fairly dark, but Lex Luthor had found the dimmer switch on the wall and turned the lights on low. He could not handle the brighter lights after so long of sitting in complete darkness. Pain from his previous injuries was coursing through his body as he sat perched against the wall next to the door. He had made his way over there slowly and was now pounding on the door with his fist. He was still frail and his voice was slightly horsed, but he continued to pound and scream as loud as he possibly could.
"Let me out of here!" His loud screech cut through the room that was void of everything but a bed and a few medical machines. "You have no right to hold me like a prisoner."
After several hours of the same behavior, Lex was surprised when he heard the knob on the door turning. If he had been stronger and healthier, he would have made his break at this moment, but all Lex could do tonight was wait in pain as the person behind the barrier opened the door.
A tall light haired man entered the room and stood over Lex.
"Let me out of here," Lex demanded with a sneer. He was clearly worn and in pain as the sweat from holding back the discomfort rolled down his face.
"You must try to relax, Mr. Luthor," the handsome man said. "All this yelling and banging is only going to wear you out and that is not good for your health right now."
"I don't care," Lex snarled in a slightly nasal voice as he rested his head against the wall. "I need to get out of here. You can't hold me like a prisoner forever. I want to go back to Smallville. I want to go to my friends. I want to go back to my life."
"I'm afraid that would be impossible right now," the standing man crossed his arms.
"Please," Lex almost pleaded closing his blood shot eyes with the wide black rings under them. "Please let me out."
"Why don't you let us give you something for the pain, Mr. Luthor?" he said. "You are clearly in a lot of discomfort."
"No," Lex's head shot forward and his eyes opened wide. "No more drugs. You people have had me on so many drugs the last few days, I don't even know what planet I'm on anymore."
"The drugs were to keep you from hurting yourself like you almost did when you got out a while back," the guard explained.
"I needed to get out like I need to get out of here now," Lex insisted. "I need to get some fresh air,"
"Now, now, Lex," another voice sounded from the other side of the open door. "This is Kansas. There is no more fresh air." The second man entered the room and stood next to the first. "We Luthors destroyed all the fresh air there was, or so the locals would have everyone believe," the second voice belonged to Lionel Luthor.
Lex looked up at his father with contempt in his eyes. "You can't hold me like a prisoner here, father."
"You're not a prisoner, Lex," Lionel reached down for one arm as the guard reached for the other. "You are a guest who is recovering from a very bad accident."
Lex groaned as they picked him off the floor, but he made no effort to resist. In truth, he was very uncomfortable on the floor, but could not get himself back up.
They walked him slowly over to the bed. "You have suffered some severe injuries, and you need to allow yourself to heal."
"I can do that at home," Lex grunted.
"But here you are safe," Lionel said as they slowly lowered him to the mattress. "Until I discover for sure who did this to you, I need to keep you guarded."
"Like a prisoner," Lex repeated.
"Nonsense," Lionel gruffer. "I told you that you would be free to go when the danger has ended."
They pulled the blankets back over Lex. "Why are you so concerned about my well-being all of the sudden, father?"
Lionel leaned over his reclined son and looked into his eyes. "Because you are my son, Lex. No one will kill a Luthor so long as I am alive."
"You can't protect me forever," Lex said in a tired voice.
"I will shield you for as long as I need to," Lionel replied. "Now let us give you something for the pain."
Lex reached up to his father's lapel with his good hand. "No more drugs to keep me under control," his eyes almost pleaded.
Lionel pulled his hand away and rubbed Lex's head with his other hand. "I need you to promise me that you won't try to make any more phone calls like you did the other day."
Lex nodded slightly and licked his dry lips. "I promise," he spoke in a hush tone. "No more phone calls or stupid stunts if you don't use the mind altering drugs."
"Very well," Lionel almost smiled in what seemed like a compassionate way. He waved the guard out of the room to get the nurse.
"Do," Lex spoke through his pain. "Do you know who did this?"
"I have my suspicions," Lionel said as he maintained his close proximity to Lex's face. "But we can talk about those things when you are feeling better."
The nurse came in with a needle and moved to the other side of the bed. She lowered the blankets and pulled down his pajama bottoms enough to reveal his lower thigh. "This might sting a little," she said as she wiped a swab across the exposed flesh. "But it will help you feel better."
"Nothing to make me sleep," Lex tried to warn her, but it came out almost as a plea.
"No, Mr. Luthor," she smiled. "You won't need drugs to help you sleep tonight."
She jabbed the needle into his soft flesh and Lex slightly cringed. After a few seconds, she removed it and returned his pajamas to where they were before. She then replaced the blankets and padded his hand. "You should feel a lot better in a few minutes."
Lionel nodded to her and she left the room.
"Now, see how much easier it is when you let me take care of you, Lex?" Lionel grinned. "Just remember that father always knows best."
Lex looked up at his father again. "You can't hide me forever, Dad. Someone will figure out where I am and come for me."
Lionel didn't say a word. He just stood up straight.
"I spoke with Clark the other day, and he knows I'm not happy to be here. He'll come and find me," Lex told his father.
Lionel turned away and began to walk to the open door. "Clark won't be coming for you, Lex."
"You don't know Clark very well," Lex warned as the pain reliever began to take affect. "He'll find me and save me from this prison."
Lionel turned to face his son. "Clark Kent has a lot of his own problems to deal with right now, Lex, and even if he didn't, he wouldn't go looking for someone who doesn't exist."
Lex lifted his groggy head, slightly. "What do you mean?"
Lionel gave an evil smile. "In spite of your phone call, Clark still believes like the rest of the world. To him and everyone else, you died in that car crash, Lex. It made the national news. Lex Luthor is dead."
Lex's body jolted at the news. "No," he tried to scream but found his voice was failing again.
"I must say that your dying in his arms was a nice touch. Clark Kent can never dispute what he witnessed first hand," Lionel grinned. "And so long as the world thinks you are dead then you will be safe here. Good night Lex," his father said closing the door.
"No," Lex said again. He tried to move but found himself unable to lift his body off the bed. Then he felt a heavy thickness hit his brain. The shot had not only contained pain medication, but also another doze of sleep inducing drugs.
Lex's head fell back hard onto his pillow and he felt the numbness of his body and was unable to move a muscle. The flow of the heavy narcotic began to wash over him and Lex could feel himself falling into its effects. He was beginning to loose consciousness. A stray tear seemed to roll down the helpless man's face, as he lay motionless beneath the effects of the drugs. His mind had to settle on the fact that he was a prisoner of his own father. Lex closed his eyes and began to drift off. In his approaching slumber, he was able to whisper one small sentence in a tone just an octave above a hush. "Clark," he cried. "Please don't believe I'm dead."
TO BE CONTINUED
***NOTES***
Hey gang, I'm back with yet another thank you for all the kind reviews. Not as many as last week, but still a good showing. Thank you all so much.
To Marrie: Welcome to Monday again. You are always so nice and supportive in your reviews, and I really appreciate it. I just hope the out come is worthy of your compliments.
To DarkAngel: Thanks you for the kind words. I'm glad you think things are getting
Better, because just when I think I am winding down, something else comes into my
Head, and the story goes off on its own again.
To Suz: Yup, it's Monday again. The Nell thing was one of those surprises that I throw at myself from time to time. Thank you for reading my other stories as well. I like to keep my stories where they work with or off of each other. I am really starting to like that wooden horse. I've gotten allot of mileage out of him in this story and it's not over yet.
To MitchPell: your questions were answered in this chapter, so I don't have to play at being aloof. But now that we know Lex is alive and who has him, the mystery is not over. As for the story not ending, I'm beginning to wonder about that myself. But I do hope to have this baby finished by Christmas where I have another story already lurking in the back of my head so please keep reading.
Thank you all again and keep the nice reviews coming.
Best Wishes and God Bless
Phaze