Lex winced inwardly as Clark lept to his feet and stood rigidly, as if at attention. Fortunately, the intruder was staring at Clark, not at him, so he was able to slip his hand closer to the gun hidden inside his jacket. Lana's well-intended interference and emotional judgements now meant that if he was lucky, he'd only have to kill Clark in front of his parents. If he was unlucky...

The intruder barked again at Clark, "Why haven't you accomplished your responsibility?"

Jonathan Kent's expression indicated that he'd shove a thousand tanks aside, if need be, to stand between the shamefaced Clark and his interrogator. "Who the hell are you and why are you giving my son orders?" Lex decided that yes, in fact, there was something scarier than a superhuman assassin with his hands around one's throat. However, the object of the infuriated farmer's wrath was either one of the most imperceptive or bravest man in the world, as he ignored him to address Clark again.

"Clark. What do you believe in?"

Martha put a protective hand on the boy's arm as he raised his eyes and answered, as if automatically, "Truth, justice, and the American way."

"And how do you-"

"So tell me the truth now!" All eyes turned to Clark at his outburst. "Are they my parents?"

"Of course not. Clark, these people have been lying to you. They don't believe in what you and I believe in. How can you expect them to tell you the truth?"

Clark lowered his eyes again. "I...sir, it feels like they're telling the truth."

"Feels like!" The man snorted. "When were you told to obey feelings instead of orders?" As if it were a palpable flame, Lex felt Clark's momentary defiance waver and begin to die out, and his fingers wrapped around the gun as he waited for the moment to pull it out and fire. He had to manage to disable or kill Clark with one shot and just as quickly disable the other man. He let his eyes sweep the room once more, looking for the meteors. Lana must have disposed of them. *Thanks a lot,* he sent as a vengeful mental telegraph. *If I survive, remind me to repay the favor.*

Martha Kent's voice was scalding with fury. "You told us he was dead. What was in that coffin, another little boy? You certainly don't have a problem with killing."

She, too, was ignored. "I'm losing my patience with you, Clark." There was an ominous undercurrent as though some unspoken but potent threat passed from him to the boy. "Your mistake cost these additional people their lives. Though in fairness, people like that who do not tell the truth are no loss to this country. Now finish, Clark. I'll wait outside." Lex had to admire the gamble: The man was showing himself so certain in his authority that he didn't need to enforce it with his presence. The moment the stone door closed, he whipped out the gun and fired, a straight, clean shot to Clark's right temple.