Listening to Lex get the information he needed was like seeing a Machiavellian prince in action, Lana decided. Bonhomie one moment, veiled threats the next, and then perhaps bribes or back to bonhomie. And each approach was an extreme, charm couldn't get more charming or threats more menacing. She concentrated on watching, not on the unease that had risen in her. She'd have expected to be repelled by seeing what happened when he fully exercised the power of his money and name, but she wasn't. He finally hung up and turned around.

"He did go to the airport," he announced. "The van driver doesn't remember which airline, but they're all delayed with the weather. If we go to the airport, we can find his destination."

"Then what?"

"We can probably get there before he does, if we use the jet."

Jonathan, who had been staring out the window, stood up. "And just what is your interest in our son?"

Lex's face was expressionless. "He tried to kill me, Mr. Kent. If I find out who sent him, I'll be able to forestall any further attempts."

"Is that your only interest?" Jonathan clearly wasn't ready to believe the answer.

"Mr. Kent, we don't have time for this. We need to get to the airport. We can finish this on the way."

"That's not quite enough. We're not going to help you find him if you're planning to use him for your own purposes. Or do anything else to hurt him."

Lana could see that this stung Lex and that he was biting back the first response that came to his mind. Still, there was more than a hint of malice in his voice as he answered, "I don't think I *can* convince you. You'll just have to decide whom you trust *least*--me or them." Lana bit back her own angry response to the almost-taunting words when she saw the bleakness in his eyes and quietly moved to stand next to him. Shrugging angrily, Jonathan nodded and after a moment's silent appraisal, Martha rose and went to the door.

***

Clark had hoped that reading would calm him down, especially since all his books were about people who made the right decisions and did the right things. But he couldn't concentrate at all, not on the books or on his own thoughts. Now that he was back at headquarters, one thing was clear. He hadn't told his commanders everything. He wasn't supposed to make decisions without telling them, but he had. He had even deceived them. That was treason.

Part of him shouted that he wasn't a traitor. He had tried to do the right thing at every step. But a louder voice kept repeating the facts. It wasn't his place to make decisions about targets or potential targets. It was his duty to tell his superiors everything and they would make the decisions. If he told them what happened and they judged that the target and witnesses still had to die, that was the right thing. Sometimes innocent people have to be sacrificed for the greater good. They told him that.

Except. He couldn't stand the thought of anybody hurting the Kents or that beautiful girl who had eventually been so kind to him. He wanted to be back in the Kents' arms, where it had felt so strangely right and comforting, even while insecurity and doubt were still tearing him apart inside. He hadn't known what to think or do, but then they had taken him in their arms, and then he had believed them whole-heartedly. He shouldn't trust his feelings like that, though. And they were the ones who had given him to his commanders. Which meant that they trusted his commanders to do the right thing. Which should mean that his commanders would know that they were reliable, good Americans. But what they told him to dispose of them anyway? If the target was a big enough threat, they might.

He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, wishing that things would make sense again.

***

Martha had to pray that the man she was following hadn't paid enough attention to recognize her, or at least not with her hair and some of her face covered by her raincoat's hood. They had agreed to split up and use the cell phones Lex had bought and activated on the way to call the others if any of them saw him, but when she saw him talking on a phone, it was too good a chance to miss of finding out more.

As she moved closer, she was thankful that the delays had made the airport crowded, but wished that he could be one of those people who shouts or over-enunciates when using a cell phone. But even though he was speaking impatiently, his voice was moderated and she could only make out a few words.

"I was there, Bob, remember? I'm telling you, it's not worth it."

"We turned a good profit on the deals, we refund this one, get out while we can."

"Don't worry, I got plenty."

Martha grimaced. He was speaking in guarded enough terms that she wasn't going to learn anything. Noting the rescheduled departure time--four hours--she went to call the others and find out just how Lex Luthor would get them to Baltimore ahead of their opponent. She suspected that it would involve so much money it would seem downright effortless.