A Death in the Family, Chapter 15:

   The small room in the private living quarters adjoining Lionel Luthor's office in the Luthor Corps building was still dark as Lionel entered it to look in on his son whom was sleeping.  He turned the dimmer switch on low and made his way over to the small bed.  Lex Luthor laid peacefully, almost with out any movement at all as Lionel watched.

   After a few minutes, his young, blond, male, assistant Randolph joined him.

   "What are all these drugs doing to him?" Lionel asked softly.

   "The doctors assure us that there will be no adverse side effects, sir," Randolph replied.

   "That's what they said about the drugs we used to fake his death," Lionel added.  "And those almost killed him."

   "You need to remember that those drugs had only previously been tested on lab animals," His assistant explained.  "The Luthor Corps doctors used a higher dosage of Opium and other medications developed in your labs.  The drugs had only been used to slow down the respiratory system and body functions in other test subjects, but you asked that your son's death be even more convincing.  So a higher dosage was used, and Lex's body attempted to fight it off as long as he could.  In his weakened condition, the task could have been fatal, but Lex survived."

   "Yes, and I knew that the Kent's and his other friends would be watching," Lionel said in a hushed tone.  "Lex's death needed to be completely convincing.  Little did I know that Clark would actually hold onto him while the drugs were taking their effect."

   "It actually worked in our favor, sir," Randolph smiled.  "The Kent boy was a great help in making Lex's death convincing.  Who could deny a person's death when they died in your arms."

   "But was it enough?" Lionel huffed.  "Even after all the trouble I have gone through to protect my son, Clark still has questions about his death."

   Randolph gave him a worried look.  "That was because the previous nurse did not give Lex enough medication, sir.  When he was able to make that phone call from your office phone, our credibility was greatly hampered."

   Lionel rubbed his chin. "Lucky you were able to cover the trail as quickly as you did, or the Kent's would have traced the call back here.  Yet it was still enough to alert Clark and his friends that something was amiss."

   "We have the kid's under surveillance, and Morgan Edge will be dealt with, Mr. Luthor," Randolph assured him.  "Once Edge is gone, along with all the Luthor Corps records, there will be nothing left for them to trace back to you.  The car Lex was driving and the cadaver we placed in his tomb were both destroyed."

   "And what about Nell Potter?" Lionel turned to him for the first time.  "How long can we hope to keep her in a coma?"

   Randolph sighed heavily.  "She could prove a problem sir," he agreed.  "But we are keeping her sedated until we are able to find a way to wipe her memory of what she saw.  No one will be able to find Lex until you are ready.  Once Morgan Edge is destroyed there will no longer be any danger."

   Lionel turned back to Lex's sleeping form.  "You make this all seem so easy, Randolph.  I have been around long enough to know that things are never easy.  Something could go wrong at any minute."

   "Let me worry about that, sir," Randolph gave a half smile.  "The only loose cannon in this whole mess is being handled right now.  Morgan Edge will die and Perry White will be warned about ever interfering again."

   "What if the reporter doesn't remain silent?" Lionel asked.

   "Let me worry about that, too, sir," Randolph told him a firm, reassuring voice.  "As your head of internal security, I will deal with any and all threats to your family's security."

   Lionel eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds, but he knew what Randolph meant.  He would just let the words remain unspoken for now.  He already knew too much by ordering the death of Morgan Edge, he didn't want to be implicated in the possible death of Perry White as well.

   "Very well," he finally responded.  "Take care of these matters, and let me know when the danger is gone."

   Randolph nodded his head and stepped out of the room.

   Once in the living room area of the Luthor Corps private living quarters, Randolph's cell phone began to ring.

   "What?" he said into the small phone.

   He waited a second until the voice replied.  "Sir, we have a problem."

   "What type of problem, Matthews?" Randolph groaned.

   "The operative you sent to handle Perry White was just found dead in the Daily Planet's parking garage."

   "Are you telling me that White killed him?" Randolph asked.

   "No, sir," Matthews returned.  "Perry White told the police that he was being attacked when a third person showed up and killed our man."

   "What third person?" Randolph almost screamed but thought better of it.

   "According to the police, Perry White claims the man referred to himself as Death Stroke," Matthews finished.

   "What is Death Stroke?"

   "Our sources in the underground have identified him as a hired assassin," Matthews told him.  "Apparently someone has hired him to protect the reporter.  The only question would be: who?"

   Randolph sat on the arm of the chair as he thought.  "I think I have a good idea whom," he spoke softly again.  "It would appear that Morgan Edge is onto us, and he wants White to be able to print the story once the truth is uncovered.  Our only question I: how much does Perry White already know, and when will we be able to get to him?  We need to let this die down before we go after White again."

   "Do we have that amount of time?" Matthews asked.

   Randolph wiped his face with his free hand.  "That I don't know.  We just have to watch Perry White closely, and if he gives any indications of acting before we are ready to deal with him, then we will have to silence him at once and deal with it at a later time."

   "I understand, sir," Matthews returned.  "We will handle White, if need be."

   Lionel was on his cell phone when he passed the maintenance.  As he passed by, the light indicating that the lift had reached its floor lit up over the doors.  A second later the dividers opened, and out stepped the night janitor with his cleaning cart.  He wheeled the large apparatus over to the main entrance of the Luthor Corps executive offices.  The rest of the lobby was deserted as he pulled a ring of keys off his work belt.  Pulling his head cap's visor from over his brow, the janitor looked back over his shoulder to assure himself he was alone.  When he had done that, the dim evening light flashed against his face and it was revealed that the man in the guise of night maintenance was actually Pete Ross.

   Working quickly, Pete rushed to find the right key and soon found it.  Within a few seconds, he was in the inner sanctum of the Luthor Corps offices.  He quickly pushed his cart through the door and again checked behind himself.

   Once inside, he took a relieving breath of the air-conditioned air.  He had made it this far undetected.  All he had to do now was uncover the Luthor secret that he was sure was hidden behind these walls.  So, wasting no time, Pete began his search through each office.

   Bill Ross had been a lawful man all his life.  Even after passing the Kansas Bar Association Legal Litigation Test he had sworn to up holding the law and being fair and honest at all times.  The task had proven difficult at times, but he had been able to keep his vow.  It was for this reason that his latest act seemed somehow dirty to him as he drove his late model ford into the emptied parking lot behind Fordman's Department store.  He was told to turn his headlights off when he drove between the two large buildings on Main Street, and he had done as instructed.  Once in the parking area, he saw the Chevy Lumina he had been told to seek sitting under a large light.

   Bill drove his own vehicle over to the other car slowly and pulled up next to it until the two driver's side windows were inched apart.

   Looking over, Bill could not help but smile as he saw that person he was expecting was sitting behind the steering wheel.  Gabe Sullivan had come just as he had promised in the conversation on the phone a short while earlier.  They both proceeded to roll down their windows.

   "We're you followed?" Gabe asked eying the entrance way again.

   "No," Bill replied with a cautious look back in his rearview mirror.

   "Good," Gabe smiled, holding up a case containing a CD-ROM disc.  "I think you will find this very helpful."

   Bill smiled as he reached for the case.  "I'm sure I will."  He rolled the disc in his hand for a moment.

   "From what you said over the phone," Gabe explained, "this anti-virus that our people came up with should clean up your problems."

   "The only question would be how the virus that was supposedly eradicated in the Luthor Corp's computers found its way into the court's system…" Bill looked up over his driving glasses.

   "There are a lot of questions surrounding the Luthors and Smallville these days," Gabe gave a serious frown.  "Jonathan and Martha are good people and deserve to have fair and legal representation.  No one, or thing, should prevent that."

   Bill looked at the disc in his hand.  "You know, of course, that Lionel would not be happy with you for giving me this cure.  Allowing a company secret like this out can put his company in suspicion of illegal activities. This could cause you your job."

   "My daughter is on the run as we speak because she already believes that Luthor is hiding something," Gabe told him.  "If helping the Kents get out of jail, as they should, will help keep my child safe and bring her home, then Lionel can fire me as often as he wants.  No one hurts my baby girl."

   Bill nodded his agreement and slipped his car into gear.  "Be careful, Gabe," he warned. "From here on in, we are up to our necks in this."

   "Will do, Bill," Gabe gave a short wave.  "You go and save the Kents and our kids."

   With their mission accomplished, each car drifted back into the dark night.

   Back in the bedroom, Lex began to fidget in the bed.  He seemed to be having a nightmare, and a cold sweet covered his face. The sleep seemed to be an endless cavern to Lex as he struggled to regain consciousness.  After several minutes, he finally achieved his goal and opened his sleepy eyes.  His chest heaved as he tried to get control of himself.  It had been a long few hours since he was given the drugs to knock him out, but Lex felt that he had made his way back to reality.  He was careful to lay his head back on the pillow.  He did not want to slip back into a deep sleep.  He stared at the ceiling and tried several mind games to keep himself awake, like naming all the United States presidents in order, or reciting the capital of each state to himself.  It was several minutes before he heard a voice speak from the shadow area in the far corner of the room.

   "Does that stuff really work?"  The voice asked.

   Lex lifted his startled head.  "What?  Who's there?"

   The form of a tall man stepped out from the shadows.  "Has it been that long, Lex?  Have you forgotten me already?"

   Lex instantly recognized the smiling teen.  "Clark?" he almost screamed in joy.  "You found me."

   "Of course I found you, Lex," Clark approached the bed.  "Did you really think I would leave you here alone at the mercy of your father?"

   "Oh, God," Lex allowed his head to fall back with a large grin across his face.  "I knew you would find me.  I knew that Clark Kent would never believe that I was dead."

   "Lex," Clark smirked.  "Everyone knows that only the good die young."

   Lex gave his friend an odd look.

   "Oh, come on, Lex," Clark grinned again as the light caught his eyes.  "We both know that being good is a struggle for you.  You want to do well, but this alter ego you keep hidden in your head always pulls you in the opposite direction.  Maybe this whole prisoner thing is God's way of paying you back for your sins."

   "Clark?" Lex stared up at him.  "Is everything alright?  You seem to be acting strange."

   The younger man turned away from the bed.  "Don't be so surprised, Lex.  We both know that I have some little secrets of my own."  He stopped at the window and turned back.  "Maybe now that you are laying here helpless, I can show you the real me and tell you what I really think."

   Lex took a few deep breaths.  "What ever it is, Clark, could we wait.  You need to help me get out of here before they come back to drug me again."

   "What's wrong with drugs, Lex?" Clark smirked again.  "You use to like getting high.  In fact, I'm told you could never get your fill of them."

   "Those drugs were recreational, and they almost killed me," Lex was growing angry with his friend.  "Come on, Clark, these drugs are to keep me under my father's control.  What ever they gave me the last time has made it impossible for me to move my arms and legs off of the bed.  Help me up."

   Lex held out his hand to his friend.  "Please, Clark."

   Clark crossed his arms and simply stared at him.  "Did you ever take a minute to think that your father might have the right idea by holding you here?"

   "He's keeping me prisoner, Clark," Lex grunted.

   "He's also keeping you safe," Clark added.  "Or perhaps he's keeping the world safe from you."

   Lex was able to roll his upper body to face Clark again.  He held his hand out another time.  "Please," he almost cried.  "I'll die if I stay here."

   "And you'll die if I let you out," Clark said sitting on the wide windowsill.  "For your own good Lex, you need to stay here."

   Lex fell back onto the bed.  "Please, Clark, don't do this."

   All he could see when he lifted his head were Clark's eyes and bright, evil grin among the shadows at the window.

   "Clark," Lex screamed.  "Clark!"

   The jolt of his own screams awoke Lex as the realization of the pain his body was in came back with alarming speed.  He knew that he must have been moving around a lot in his sleep, and he was now feeling the effects.  With his head still in a heavy fog, Lex began to look around the dark and empty room.  He could swear that Clark had actually been there with him only moments before.  With the affects of the heavy sedation it was not clear if he was dreaming, or if his friend had actually been there.  Yet, somehow, Lex felt that Clark's presence had been in the room. 

   He tried earnestly to search out his friend in the shadows, but after several minutes it was clear that all that accompanied him in the room now was the wooden horse from a Christmas long since past.

   The drugs were beginning to take affect again and the pain was minimizing to a constant throbbing as opposed to its earlier sharp, stabbing, and searing jabs.  Lex lowered his head to the pillow with a defeated sigh.  He knew he would soon slip back into the warm arms of drug-induced sleep, and he wondered if he would have to live with these feelings forever.  Lex fought not to close his eyelids, but alas, they closed slowly against his own will, and he slipped effortlessly back into his forced slumber.  The small amount of light that trickled in across his room caught the small glint of a droplet of moisture on his left cheek.  The small tear shined brightly across the blackness of the room.

   A performer with the big lips and very thin frame was on stage at the Edge comedy club giving the room his best material, but few people, if any, were laughing at his pathetic act.  It was visibly clear that he was shaking inside his purple suit with the thin blue stripes and a large green bow tie.  Even his bowling shoes did little to endear his performance with the difficult crowd.

   Chloe pulled her attention away from Clark, who had Salina Kyle wrapped around him, to take notice of the young man on stage.  "That poor guy is bombing big time," she said to her group.

   "Ah, yes," Morgan Edge who was standing a few feet away, said with a sigh.  "Such are the drawbacks of armature night.  You have about nine bad acts, but if you luck out there just might be that tenth person who blows the audience's socks off."

   "How do you make it through the nine bad?" Lana asked.

   Morgan gave her a big toothy grin.  "That is why we serve alcohol my, young friend."

   Chloe could not help but notice Salina who seemed to be whispering in Clark's ear.  "Do you two want a room?"

   Clark's eyes opened wide as Salina slipped her hand under his jacket.  "Miss Kyle," he gasped.  "I'm afraid you have the wrong idea."

   She pulled her head away from his neck.  "Oh come on, farm boy.  Don't you want a real woman for a change?"

   "I said no," he stood up as she dropped to the floor.

   "Why, you rude jerk," she looked up with a scold. 

   "I'm so sorry," he leaned over and took her hand allowing him to look over his shoulder once they were out of the room's view behind the table.  "Which one?"  He whispered.

   Salina allowed her free hand to rise slightly pointing to Lionel Luthor's hired assassin who was approaching the group.  "Him."

   The blond man opened his jacket and pulled out his pistol as Chloe turned to see what Clark and Salina was looking at.  "Oh, my God," she screamed.  "He has a gun!"

   The scream got the entire room's attention over the bad comedian who was pouring his heart out on the stage.  Summers heard the yell, but his gun was already drawn and he knew this would be his only chance at Morgan Edge, so he took aim.

   "Oh, my goodness," Lana gasped seeing that he was aiming at their direction. 

   Time seemed to stop while the entire room stood still.  They all watched in horror as he pointed the barrel and fired at Morgan, who stood next to Bruce Wayne.  Bruce had wanted to react, but found himself paralyzed with the memories of the last time he had face down the nozzle of a weapon.  It was the night of his parent's death, and the nine-year-old boy watched, as they were each murdered before his terrified eyes.  The child had stood motionless as the string of pearls coming apart danced in the dank, city streetlight.  He now found himself frozen in the same dazed-like state.

   Clark's extremely quick reflexes seemed to be the first to snap out of the shock and he knew he had to act fast.  Knowing everyone was watching, Clark dove at the lone gunman at normal speed knocking each of them into the thick crowd of people.  They rolled into the group with a great force knocking several bystanders off their feet in the process.

   "Clark?" Chloe yelled as they seemed to disappear into the throngs of people and a loud panic began.  Everyone in the room began screaming and running about as Clark fought to subdue the sniper.

   Morgan Edge had the reflex enough to dive away from the bullet as fast as he could, knocking himself over onto Lana and they fell to the ground with a thud.  He attempted to regain his composure as quickly as he could and lifted his heavy frame off of her.

   "Are you all right?"  He asked, helping her up.

   "Yeah," Lana tried to regain her breath.  "Did he hit you?"

   Morgan looked at his shoulder where a streak of blood seemed to be dripping.  "I got grazed, but I should be fine."

   "Mr. Wayne," Salina looked across the table at the young billionaire with the far away look in his eyes.  "Are you okay?"

   Chloe and Salina turned to each other with a puzzled look, as he made no response.

   On the floor, Clark continued to try and subdue the attacker, but was not making much headway through the maze of people trying to recover from their fall, and to get out the door as quickly as possible.  Summers had seemed to get him self lost in the large group.

   Lana kneeled at Bruce side trying to get his attention.  "Oh, my God, Bruce, are you alright?"  She asked, placing her soft hand on his face.

   Morgan jumped away from the table and seemed to disappear in to the crowd himself.

   "Bruce," Lana spoke loudly into his face again.  "Bruce, say something."

   Clark was able to recover himself enough to get back up to his feet as he searched the room for Summers.  It was Salina who looked across the large room and shouted to him.  "Clark," she screamed.  "He's at the door already.  He's getting away."

   Clark followed her stare to where the blond man was forcing his way through the congested entryway.  He knew he could not let Summers get away if he were going to get some answers about why the guy was firing at them.  So, Clark began to make his own mad rush towards the doors.

   Salina's scream seemed to get Bruce's attention and awake him from his trance.  He stood up quickly pulling himself away from Lana's grasp.  "He can't get away this time," He muttered.

   "What?" Lana asked as she fell to the floor again.

   Much to her surprise, Bruce made his way through the group quickly and headed for the door as well.  "Wait," she called out pulling herself to her feet and followed.

   In a far corner Morgan Edge met up with two of his security guards.  "Mr. Edge, are you okay?"  The first young man asked.

   "How could you let a gunman in here?" He ignored the concern and snapped at him. 

   "We have no idea how it happened, sir," the second man spoke.  "We are trying to get a detail after him right now."

   "Forget that," Morgan rubbed a clean napkin against his bloody arm with a grimace.  "I don't need the thug to know who sent him here.  Lionel Luthor is trying to give me a little pay back," he huffed.  "He has figured out what has happened.  It's time for me to enact the next part of my plan."

   "What is the plan, sir?" The first guard asked.

   "It's time that Lionel's secrets are exposed," Morgan gritted his teeth from the pain.  "It's time that the great people of Kansas know what their great benefactor has truly been up to."

   Back at the table, Chloe realized that everyone had left her to her own devices while they chased after the gunman.  She knew that if anyone could find him and still come out without a scratch, then Clark was the man for the job.  She felt that, in spite of his appearance, Bruce was also very capable of watching after himself.  Between the two of them they would never let any harm come to the prize jewel of Lana Lang, so she tried to push the concern for her friends out of her mind and take advantage of the situation to do a little investigating of her own.

   Using the distraction all around her as a cover, Chloe slipped away from the table and made her way down the hall where she was sure Morgan's office would be tucked away.  Much to her delight, she found the large door with his nameplate over the word 'private.' 

   Taking a deep breath she slowly reached for the knob, inspecting the emptied hall.  Everyone one was too worried about getting out alive and made no attempts to go down the service hall, in spite of the clearly marked fire door.  Chloe turned the metal lever and, much to her surprise and delight, the door was not locked.  Apparently Morgan had planned to step out for only a moment when he spotted Bruce and did not bother to lock his office.

   With a large smile on her face, Chloe slipped into the room and closed the door behind her self.  Once the door had closed, Salina Kyle appeared in the hall from around the corner and stared at the office entrance.

   When Clark had reached the street he searched the area and spotted Summers stepping away from the crowd into a dark narrowed street.  He was about to pursue when he felt Bruce's hand on his shoulder. 

   "Where did he go?" Bruce asked.

   Clark instinctively pointed in the direction of the street.

   "He's going for the Gotham reservoir," Bruce stated as he began to run.  "We can't let him get away."

   Clark followed quickly behind him in his fastest normal run.  He didn't want to reveal himself in front of Bruce, just yet.  The older man had not proven himself to be the most stable of persons, and Clark had enough nutcases who were aware of his secrets already.

   It was a few seconds later when Lana came out of the club and saw her two friends jogging down the alley.  She looked around and could not see Alfred or the car, so she decided to follow on foot.  She pulled off her high heels as she sprinted in the same direction.  It was unclear as to what she could do, but Lana knew she had to make sure they were okay.

   Back in Metropolis, Pete had finally made his way into Luthor's private office on the top floor of the Luthor Corps building.  He slowly entered the dark room that was only accommodated by the bright moon light outside of the windows.  He cased the office for a few minutes and then saw the door to the living quarters.  Pete made his way over to it quickly and opened the door.

   The same light from the night lit the new room.  Pete slowly made his way around the room knowing that he had hit pay dirt by discovering the inner sanctum of Lionel's office space.  If there were any secrets to find, then they would be in here.

   After roaming around the cabinets and draws of the few furnished pieces provided for the room, Pete saw another door and he rushed to it trying the knob to find that it was locked.   A smile wiped across his face as his instincts set in.  He had spent enough time with Chloe and Clark at the Torch to know the feeling of uncovering a mystery, and that small rush that comes just before the discovery. The only chore now was to get inside the locked room.

   "What are you hiding in here, Lionel?" Pete whispered as he pulled the key ring from his pocket again.  He fumbled with the keys looking for the right one.  He knew that the truth was only a doorway away.

   On the other side of the locked door, Lex jumped as he heard the knob being fiddled with.  The cold sweat returned to his forehead as he realized that they might be coming back to give him more drugs.  His dark-rimmed eyes opened wide as he attempted to force the grogginess from his head.

   "They're coming for you, again," Clark leaned his ear against the door with an evil grin.  He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

   "No," Lex grunted.

   Clark played with his head as he twirled his eyes.  "It's happy time again."

   "No," Lex groaned again.  "I can't handle anymore drugs."

   Clark tapped the palm of his hands against the door.  "I don't think you have a choice in the matter, Lexy," He grinned.  "The candy man is coming for a refill."

   Lex used his good arm and pushed himself up to a seated position.  "I can't let them do it."  With a heavy grunt, Lex used all his might and swung his legs over and off the bed.  The sudden movement and thrust of the force made him loose his balance and he slipped off the side of the mattress, landing on the cold floor with a loud thud as the cast from his leg and the one on his arm smashed against the hard surface.  Lex let out a yelp of pain.

   Pete stopped for a moment as he fumbled with the keys.  The door was thick and solid, but he could swear he heard a sound on the other side.  Someone, or something, was in the other room.  As to what it was, Pete was sure he was about to find out.

   Clark looked away from the door over his shoulder at Lex who was dragging his frail form across the floor.  The fog in his head and the two casts were making it almost impossible to achieve his goal, but finally he reached the window and pulled down the wooden horse again.

   "Where do you think you are going to hide with your little teddy bear, Lex?" Clark asked.  "They know that you are here, and they'll find you in a second."

   Lex looked around the room with a hastened scan.  "The closet," he announced softly.  The small encasing was on the other side of the bed, opposite the entrance door.  He knew that it had no lock, but it was the only place where he could seek shelter.

   "Oh come on, Lex," Clark sighed.  "They'll know you're in there.  Besides, you'll never make it before they unlock the door."

   Lex gave the Clark illusion a nervous stare from his crouched position on the floor as he saw the doorknob continue to be jiggled with.  He knew it would only be seconds before it was turned, and his jailers would return with more drugs.  Lex began to panic and shake in fear.

   The Gotham night was gloomy and overcast as Clark and Bruce made their way to the city water supply where Luthor's hit man had raced to.  The blond gunman attempted to hide behind the small service building on the pier at the mouth of the large, river-like bed of water.  He watched as they stopped in their tracks to case the area.

   Bruce took a few heavy breaths as Clark stood searching the area.

   "Which way did he go?" Bruce squeaked out between hasten gulps of air.

   "I don't know," Clark said calmly with piercing eyes on the surrounding area.  "Maybe we should split up and search."

   "Are you crazy, Clark?" Bruce gave him a look of disbelief.  "I'm not leaving you alone to find a crazed killer."

   Clark gave him a frown.  "This coming from the guy who froze at the sight of a gun back at the club."

   Bruce took a few steps forward, casing the pier.  "I have a few issues with guns in my face that I haven't resolved yet, Kent.  Cut me a little slack."

   "This is no time for slack, Bruce," Clark grabbed his arm.  "This guy won't think twice about using his gun on us now that we have him cornered."

   "You should listen to your young friend," Summers stepped out into the light of the street lamp aiming his gun at them.  "The only bad move he has made so far is following me here.  Too bad it will be the last for the two of you."

   "Step back," Clark whispered.  "I think I can get the gun before he can fire."

   "Sure kid," Bruce sighed, sarcastically.  "I guess you have super speed to fight with."

   Summers took a few steps forward until he was about five feet away from them.  "Let's not bicker boys, I have enough bullets for both of you."

   "Wait," Clark put up his hands.  "If you are going to kill us, then could you at least tell us why you wanted us dead in the first place?"

   Summers gave him a puzzled look.  "What do you think this is, kid?  You want the plot revealed to you before the murder then buy yourself a comic book," he frowned.  "Now, both of you walk over to the edge of the pier," he waved the gun in the proper direction.

   Clark looked over at the dark water.  "What for?"

   Summers gave him a grin.  "Call me a humanitarian, kid.  I don't want to bloody the docks with your dead carcasses.  Now move."

   Clark slowly began his walk as Bruce followed.  When they reached the edge of the docks, Clark suddenly doubled over as Bruce reached to grab him.  "What's wrong, Clark?"

   A cold sweat began to roll down Clark's face as he looked up at Bruce.  "I don't know.  I feel sick all of the sudden."

   "Yeah, you and the whole city of Gotham who has to drink this swill," Summers said with a hiss.  "Lucky for you, I have a cure right here," he raised the gun to Clark's head and fired.

   The impact of the bullet on the back of his neck in his weakened state knocked Clark over and he fell forward into the water with a large splash.  Bruce looked up at yet another gunman as still another person he had come to care about was murdered right before his eyes. 

   It had been simmering for all these years as his mind raced through all the pain and anguish of years of built up pain and grief.  Bruce could not believe that he was watching helplessly again as Clark's body sank to the bottom of the lake.  The sounds in his head became those of a rushing train as it sped towards him.  He could feel what little sanity he felt he had left slowly slipping away with the sweeping sounds. 

   Then a screech was heard piercing the darkness and the trains in Bruce's head.  They both turned to see Lana standing a few feet away with the same grief that Bruce had committed to memory of the little girl's three-year-old face on the Time magazine cover.  She, too, had watched as Clark was killed before her eyes.  Taken without warning just as her parents had been all those years ago.  Just as Martha and Thomas Wayne had been torn away from their son in a moment's time.

   Perhaps it was the sight of Lana's face or the memories of that fateful night that had changed young Bruce's life forever, but the world stopped for a split second and Bruce felt all the blood rush to his face in an anger that he had never thought he could express.  His hands grasped into tight fist and his teeth clenched with grit.  His eyes disappeared behind a shadow of hatred and only his large growling grimace was seen in the dim light.  With a swift motion that he had learned in his years of physical training, Bruce lunched forward and crashed into Summers before he could turn his attention away from Lana's scream.  The two men shot backward onto the splinter filled pier in a blur of motion as the darker man began to beat the lighter blond. 

   Lana watched in horror as the gun quickly slipped from his grasp on to the docks.  She had enough of her senses to rush over and kick it into the water before Summers could reach for it.  It was just then that she heard a splashing sound off the edge of the pier.

   Turning her attention from Bruce and Summers, she ran over to the edge of the wooden deck and saw Clark splashing in the water below her.  Her tears stopped instantly at knowing he was alive, but he did not seem to be able to get to the top.

   "Clark," Lana kneeled on the pier and reached down for his panicking hand that was splashing in the lake.  "Clark, take my hand."

   He was able to regain enough composure to reach and grasp her wrist.  "Help me, Lana," he gasped through lungs of water.

   "Come on, Clark," she tugged at his arm.  "You have to help me stop Bruce before he kills that man.  Help pull yourself up."

   Clark was unable to comply as he continued to flounder in the water.  He was too weakened and sick to be able to help himself.  His weight pulled heavily on Lana's arm as he went under for a second time.

   "Clark!" She screamed, as she was able to pull herself free just as he slipped away.  "Clark!" She yelled into the rippling waves.  She glanced over her shoulder to see Bruce was still wresting with the gunman who seemed to be getting the worst of the thrashing, and then turned back to the water to see the last of the bubbles disappear into the black water.

   "Clark!"  She screamed into the blackness again.  "Please, Clark. Don't give up!"

   Her heavy sobs were only met with the silence of the water as the sounds of Bruce screams and fist pounding the unconscious man, echoed behind her.  Lana buried her face in her hands and cried.

TO BE CONTINUED:

***NOTES***

Hey Gang, another Monday and another chapter.  I know I say it every time, but thank you all for reading and for showing enough interest to write.  Please keep the reviews coming.

To Robyn:  Thanks for the review and I hope that you liked my take on how Lex's death was faked.  I did a little research and then I also used the fall back that the show gave us and created a drug in the Luthor labs.

To Ingrid mathews: Thanks for the kind words.  Poor Lex seems to get tortured allot on the net as well as the show.  As for Clark discovering the truth, the next few chapters are going to be a roller coaster ride for the gang, and all secrets will come out, maybe.

To Merrie:  Thank you for your faithfulness in reading.  I look forward to your comments every week.  As for everyone forgetting Lex, the reason for Clark and Chloe going to the Edge was to try and uncover some clues.  I am sorry I didn't bring that up again, but look for a special conversation on Lex in chapter eighteen that was written with your comment in mind.  I hope I remember to point it out.  I'm also enjoying working with Bruce and will be doing some stuff with the man who would become Batman that I was not even thinking about when I started this story.  So you'll have to let me know what you think of that when it happens.

  Thanks for the nice words on my other stories, too.

To Suz:  Thank you so much, and I hope I don't disappoint you.  Please keep letting me know what you think.

To MitchPell:  Thank you for your continued support, but try not being so hard on Lionel, the guy is trying to do the right thing for the wrong reasons, so he has it half right.  Of course he has allot of his own secrets to keep hidden as well.

   Death stroke is a piece of DC Comics history that I threw in for an extra 'fans' interest.  He is more associated with the New Teen Titans from the eighties, but I thought using an assassin who had a history in the DC universe would be an extra plus.  Sorry if I confused you.  I don't think Pete knew anything, but he might be finding something soon.  The Gotham and Morgan Edge connection will become clearer next chapter, and I hope it will be worth the wait.  Edge is also a part of the DC universe that I added in.  He's a crime lord with a strong history in the Superman lore.  Keep reading, and the rivalry between Edge and Luthor will become clearer.

Thank you all again, and I look foreword to your comments on this chapter.  Thanks again.

Phaze