Outside Luthorcorp...
The Sheriff's police cruiser pulled silently up to a secondary entrance of the Luthorcorp plant, its engine dying as Walters cut the power. She gazed around cautiously, and then glanced to her passenger with a concerned frown. "Seems kind of deserted...I thought they had a guard at every gate..."
Jonathan Kent shot the peace officer a look of contempt. "I've been trying to tell you, something is going on here, and my son and his partner need help!" He tugged at the car's door handle, but Walters put a restraining hand on his arm.
"Sir, you know I can't let you go out there, no more than I could let you run rampant with that shotgun. I'll go take a look, and if I think it necessary I'll call out some back up. Now you stay put, you hear?" Her stern gaze said she wouldn't take no for an answer.
Jonathan nodded, but already didn't like the feeling he was getting in the pit of his stomach. Something was off here, and it was way more than a missing security guard at his post. Why do I have the idea that if she hadn't confiscated it, my father's shotgun would have come in handy anytime soon? The farmer rubbed the bottom of his jaw, as he watched the sheriff approach the Luthorcorp gate, gun drawn. He had no doubt that she was a fine cop, but right now he also thought she was in way over her head. Why doesn't she just call for backup...?
Walters pushed on the wire mesh entrance, and it swung open with a rusty screech. It wasn't locked, and no alarms rang, or guards appeared at her little invasion. Apparently intrigued, but unafraid, she carried on to a side door and entered the seemingly abandoned building.
As the cop vanished from sight, Jonathan fidgeted more. Something is just so wrong here... Suddenly unwilling to follow the Sheriff's orders to stay put, he jumped from his seat, and began to tug at the standard issue shotgun Walters had in her car. It was fastened in by some kind of security clamp, but Jonathan wasn't about to let that stop him. Searching the ground around the cruiser, he found a suitable rock and began to smash away at the locking device. For a moment he even thought about using the vehicle's radio to summon more help, but after what he had just construed, could anyone be trusted?
Clark edged out from an abandoned office and sighed. He hadn't found any sign of Lex so far, and he also hadn't seen any of Kazuku's men in over fifteen minutes. There was no way to be sure, but he guessed whatever was going on here had reached some kind of conclusion, and that might not be good news for anyone. There was only one place now left to check, before doubling back to where Lois was searching, and he didn't like the idea one bit.
As he approached the steel doors to the infamous level 3 area, he paused, his hand outstretched tentatively, expecting the evil pain of kryptonite exposure to tear into him.
"Hold it right there Sonny!"
Clark turned slowly, his hands raised. Strangely he didn't recognize the woman cop before him, and his brow furrowed. "I'm a cop with the Metropolis P.D." He offered, "But I don't know you...Where's Adams?"
Walters scrutinized Kent with an unfathomable stare, and then lowered her weapon slightly. "Adams is indisposed, I'm standing in. Now I don't suppose you have any I.D. on you Detective Kent?"
Clark shook his head; his badge and driver's license had all been in his other clothes, and Martha had those right now. Thinking about it, he had no proof of the woman cop's identity either, and that bothered him. How does she know my name, and that I'm a detective? Had he the use of his powers, he could have utilized his x-ray vision to help perceive if she was lying, but now he had to apply simple logic instead. "I don't have any identification, but then how do I know if you're for real either...?"
Walters dropped the gun to her side, apparently giving in and trusting him, for no apparent reason. "We don't have time for all of this. I need to know just what's been going on in here..." Smiling suddenly, she offered Clark her free hand, "Sorry if I was a bit terse there, I came out here with your father, and I really never expected to find this mess. I'm Sheriff Walters..."
Kent took the cop's hand to shake, and then quite surprisingly, grabbed the 45 from her and stepped back out of her reach. The weapon felt cold and evil in his grasp, and although he no longer had his powers, he still abhorred its sole purpose. Nevertheless he pointed the sidearm at Walters, hoping to bluff his way along with it until he could get more help. God, I hope my Dad is safe... "You were the one in the alleyway who poisoned me..."
Walters stayed silent. She had no intention of giving him any answers.
"Did you kill Adams to take her place too?" Clark carried on with his barrage of questions anyway. "What about Lex? Is what Lucas paid you worth it all?"
"I won't answer your petty queries..." Walters, or whatever her real name was smirked, "But if you insist on talking...How did you know who I was? I didn't make any mistakes..." As she spoke she eyed the gun in Kent's hand, and then edged ever so slightly closer. He hasn't used any abilities; maybe he doesn't have them back... He won't use that thing either...he never has used a gun on anyone. If I can get close enough maybe I can take him...
"The burn," Clark explained, "When I took your hand to shake it, I noticed the burn I put there back in Metropolis, when you sprayed me with that chemical. It's kind of like a signature I left behind..."
Walters rubbed around the wound, wondering how she could have been so careless after all. "I guess I should have put a dressing over it, but it doesn't matter now. Lucas is done for; I doubt I'll be paid for half the work I've carried out here..." She let her words appear defeatist, as if she had resigned herself to capture now, but in reality it was a ruse as ever.
Waiting until she dare not creep closer, the fake sheriff dived at Clark, knowing even without his extra strength he would be an impressive foe. He didn't disappoint her.
Walters rotated around on her left leg, bringing her right knee up, and snapping her foot forward in a roundhouse maneuver. The aim was to slam Clark straight in the face, but Kent managed to block it using his forearm, and then grabbed his adversary's leg, while she was still vulnerable from the ill-fated kick.
Angered, Walters managed to twist away from his grasp in classic martial arts style, and renewed her attack with an elbow strike straight to Kent's chin. "I see my little shot of mace worked wonders on you..." Her sarcasm bit deep, as did her move.
Clark stumbled back into the wall, his lip bloodied, and the 45 clattered from his hand, and spun across the floor. He only just managed to dodge a second blow from his opponent, and had no chance of retrieving the weapon. Walters fist slammed into the plaster, just as Kent slipped away to the side, and reluctantly laid a punch of his own. I don't think I'll ever get used to hitting a woman...
His blow was half-hearted, and Walters guessed why as she fell back a little from the swipe. "I admire your chivalry Kent, but it will get you killed...especially now you have no abilities..." She leered, and then came rapidly forward. It was most enjoyable to finally have a foe worthy enough to fight.
Clark backed up again, realizing without his gifts, he would be hard pushed to stop this hardened killer without hurting her. When today is through, if I live, my career as a cop is over...
"Shying away again?" Sensing his unwillingness to attack, the assassin decided to have some fun, and used a thrusting front kick to liven up her rival.
Clark caught the blow however, and this time spun Walters around, pulling her into a tight choke hold with his still muscular arms. Had his foe been anyone else, it might have been enough to restrain her, but she had expected his every action as soon as he had begun to execute them. Without you're gifts Kent, you're no match for my C.I.A. training...
This time Walters fought dirty, biting hard into Kent's hand like a vampire, until she drew a fine trickle of blood. Unconsciously, his grip relaxed a fraction, and she followed up with an agonizing back kick straight to his groin. The blow brought tears to the once invulnerable cop's eyes, and he reeled backwards with the force of the impact. Surprisingly though, he still kept a tenuous grip on his enemy, and the pair smashed straight into the level 3 doors with a collective grunt.
Under the strain of their combined weights, the double metal entry finally gave way, and both Clark and his quarry found themselves on the floor of Bryce's extensive research area. In the dim light it appeared almost benign, but Clark knew he had to be even more careful here, because somewhere, there would undoubtedly be a source of the evil kryptonite.
Walters realized it too, and leapt to her feat triumphantly, as she spotted a stand containing several different sprays. She knew what they contained from past experience, and that with just one dose Kent would be finished for good this time.
Laughing, she bent low over Clark before collecting the correct aerosol. "If only you had fought me like I know you are capable of...who knows, you just might have won..."
Clark gazed into her eyes, knowing she was right, but that he would never sink to her level and kill. He writhed from the pain her kick had caused, struggling to catch his breath and rise before she grabbed a spray. The agony in every muscle though seemed so intense, and as he looked around desperately, he finally saw why.
Beyond Bryce's functional desk, cabinets, and lab set up stood six innocuous looking barrels. From the corroded edge of one, leaked an emerald executioner that could not only kill Clark, but maybe half of Metropolis too, should it get in the wrong hands.
Clark coughed, feeling its effects already on his weak body, and then turned back just in time to see Walters heading for him with a deadly atomizer...
Lex leapt towards the gun on the floor, his arm extended ready to grab its butt and put it to good use on his brother; should he get the opportunity. He expected Lucas to make a dive too, and almost stopped in his tracks, when he noted the younger Luthor hadn't moved.
Instead of lunging carelessly for the weapon, Lucas pulled a small Tanto from under his jacket, and with a quick tug unsheathed the deadly blade. He grinned, and then with a calculated pitch, let the oriental dagger fly. It struck home far faster than Lex could grab the automatic, and he howled as the razor sharp steel bit into his flesh, abruptly forgetting all thoughts of the gun he so desperately needed.
As a burning pain began to seep up his arm, Lex felt the warmth of his own blood leaching through his shirt sleeve, and dribbling onto his pants. He ignored the sensation, swiftly recognizing the need to react, or be killed. The millionaire stumbled back slightly, and then as he bumped into the wall, he grabbed the Tanto's hilt and gritted his teeth.
Pulling the blade from his own arm wasn't the easiest of tasks, but he was spurred on by the fact that Lucas was now retrieving a much larger weapon from his duffle bag.
Lucas swung the Katana in an arc, letting its potency sink in with his brother. "Why don't you just let me finish this Lex? One swift blow to the neck and it would be all over..." He watched as his sibling yanked the smaller dagger from his forearm, and almost collapsed with the effort, as metal grated on bone. "You can't fight me in your condition, yield to my superiority dear brother..."
Lex hung his head low, catching his breath, and letting his agony turn to rage. He blinked, looking through swollen and bloodied eyes, and then totally out of character, made a frontal assault at his foe. The attack was unexpected, and almost insane in nature, but it was just what Lucas hadn't counted on.
The two Japanese swords collided with a spark, as each brother gave victory their best shot... like raging bulls locking horns in a show of power. Of the pair, Lucas had indisputably the most strength to give, but Lex had always been the better swordsman, and right now was the most incensed.
"You never could beat me in a fair fight..." Lex virtually spat the words out, as he repelled every lunge with equal force, and then made a jab of his own.
Lucas parried the thrust and made a suitable counter move. "I don't need to beat you Lex. Your temper will do that for me...Don't you ever put father's teaching's to good use?"
Lex inhaled, and wished he had a weapon more up to the task. I remember... I remember fighting him to try and save jobs at Luthorcorp, and even when I won, he still found a way to defy me in the end...Knowing Lucas would cheat again, should he be given the chance, Lex concluded he must be the first to utilize subterfuge.
With every well timed blow from Lucas, he let his body be pushed back towards the wall; and nearer to the gun on the floor. He feigned weakness enough to let his brother think he would win, and then at the very last moment, sprang forward like a panther seizing its prey. Lucas rose to the offensive, just as Lex had hoped, and slammed the Katana down hard using both hands.
Instead of defending from the blow however, Lex dropped hard to the floor, and rolled to his left. Lucas' sword screamed as it hit the wall, tiny flakes of the ancient blade embedding in the brickwork, and ruining its perfect cutting edge.
He screeched, infuriated that someone had outsmarted him, and swung his now damaged weapon around for a second charge. "I should have killed you years ago..."
"Perhaps you should..." From his prone position on the floor, Lex let his inferior dagger drop from his palm, and abruptly his lips curled in a wry smirk. In the Tanto's place he had managed to retrieve Lois' gun, and was now pointing it at his brother. This time it was his ploy that had paid off. "I have no wish to kill you Lucas. Why don't you stop this façade of bravado and give in to the inevitable?"
Lucas huffed, allowing the now splintered Katana to fall to his side, but not losing his grip on its hilt. He looked deeply at the bald man before him, the man he had never truly called a brother. "We were always worlds apart, you and I. Even when I discovered who my true father was, I never expected to be taken in and accepted as a Luthor..."
"And yet you had it all, Luthorcorp, money, our father's respect...You had more than even I could have dreamed for in the end. And yet you threw it all away...even had Dad disposed of..." Lex wiped away a stray drop of blood from his reopened head wound, and continued, "Why?"
"Because I could? Because our father would have done it to us in the end if I hadn't, just like he did to our grandparents?" Lucas didn't even know anymore. His questioning tone said it all. What had begun as a vendetta against one evil man, had turned him into something no better, maybe even worse. "Does it even matter why? It was predestined that one of us at least, would follow in his footsteps." He shrugged, succumbing to his fate. "As Julius Caesar said, 'the die is cast...' "
"There is always a chance to change..."
Lucas shook his head, surrendering to what he knew he would have to do next. He had lived on the edge, taking whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and now it was time to visit the reaper and pay his penance. With one last smile he looked to Lex. "I don't want to change..." As he said the last words, he made one final death charge at his brother, knowing Lex would have no choice but to pull the trigger, or die by his sword. It was ironic, but in the end Kazuku had still won, because this was still nothing more than ritual suicide.
Lex waited until the last possible moment, not wanting to be the man who killed his own brother, but in the end he had no choice but to squeeze hard on the trigger. With a resounding crack the bullet tore from the weapon, slamming into Lucas, and sending him hurtling back onto the floor. He didn't squirm, or even move, but Lex couldn't bring himself to check if he was truly dead. The millionaire had stared death in the face many times, but to have killed his own brother nauseated him to the extreme. Why couldn't it have been someone else? Lucas got nothing more than he deserved... but to die by my hand was so wrong...
Gulping, Lex let the gun fall from his grasp, and he began to tremble as the shock of his harrowing ordeal began to sink in. For a time, it appeared he would collapse to the floor out of mental and physical exhaustion. I can't let myself go just yet. Clark is still out there...maybe he needs my help...
Glancing to where Lois lay so deathly still, Lex felt his wrath return with a vengeance. From deep within, adrenalin fueled hate began to take control, and he headed for the door, before his newfound energy waned. He wasn't thinking straight, or he would have picked up the gun he had dropped, but in his haste he left without any kind of protection...
Clark had confronted his enemies many times in his life, but only once had he been as powerless as he felt right now. A fleeting vision of Eric Summers flashed across his subconscious, and somehow it spurred him on. I had no abilities back then either, but I faced my mortality that night and won...Without time to think further, Clark pushed up on his elbows, and kicked out at Walters shins as she speedily approached. His strength was fading fast, but the fight wasn't over yet.
Clark's huge boot missed her shinbone, and caught the sheriff's left ankle instead, impacting where only a thin layer of skin protected bone. It was only a glancing blow, but it had the desired effect, and Walters fell forward with the spray still in her hand. She can't depress the trigger this close, or she'll inhale it too! She has no mask...
Realizing he had to keep the battle at close quarters, Kent stayed down and let his feet do the work. As Walters rolled over from her fall, Clark booted her straight in the face, trying to gauge his force to limit the damage. It wasn't easy to judge the potency of his moves anymore however, and as his sole slammed into her nose, he felt something give way.
A gush of blood, and a howl of rage from his foe made Kent feel guilty, but then his common sense took control of his conscience. I can't be vulnerable in front of her again, or she'll win...I only have so long before that kryptonite in the barrels brings me down...
Clark paused a second to see Walters drop the spray, and clutch at her crushed nasal bones in fury. From her manner he knew she was only further incensed, and would retaliate more. There would be no talking her down; he would have to use reasonable force. I have to stop her...there are ways without killing. If she hadn't taken my gifts, it would have been so easy...
Convinced he was doing the right thing, Kent scrambled painfully to his feet, just as Walters regained her composure. She wiped a hand under her shattered nose, then spat out clots of blood that were trickling down the back of her throat in abundance.
Clark didn't expect any words from her now, and he knew it was useless to try and reconcile their differences. All he could do was attempt to guess her strategy, just as she would his. And Walters was oh so good at that...
Walters tugged her police issue baton from the holster she wore, and then undid the buckle, letting the empty leather belt slip to the floor. "Too cumbersome..." She hissed, a sudden vehemence tainting her voice. "I like to fight free of impediments..."
Kent skirted evasively to his right, needing to put more room between his ailing body and the lethal drums, or lose the imminent fight. Walters noted his avoidance, and snorted as she sucked in air through her mouth. "Just dying to get away aren't you?" She wheezed.
Clark didn't reply. In her attempt to goad him, Walters had given him a clue to her own debility. She's struggling to breathe. She won't be as adept at her moves; breathing is all part of the technique in her style of combat...
The revelation gave the detective a fresh surge of hope, and cashing in on his adversary's cockiness, he made a lunge for the nearby double doors. If he could just escape the effects of the kryptonite, then perhaps the odds would now be more in his favor.
Walters anticipated his reaction, knowing it would be her choice too, should she be in his position. Sneering, she rotated the baton in her hand, sizing up her target, and then hurled the heavy stick at the back of Kent's legs. The weapon hit just where she had aimed, forcing Clark's muscles to spasm, and compelling his right knee to give way. He tried frantically to clamber back up, but Walters wasn't about to let that happen.
Using a hand at each end of the baton, the bogus cop looped it over Kent's head, and yanked back hard. It was a simple tactic, effectively squeezing his windpipe closed the more she tugged backwards. "Hey Sonny, you can't go without your medicine, surely you know that..." Dragging Clark back into the room, she headed straight towards the drums he was so allergic to.
Clark rasped, clawing back at her hands until he got a grip on the baton. Using all his remaining energy, he wrenched violently on the weapon, keeping his own body as low as possible. The move caused Walters to lose her balance, and she was pitched straight over Kent's head, with the sheer momentum of his endeavor.
Choking, Clark made it to his feet just in time to see a new barrage of kicks headed his way. If nothing else, this woman was relentless to the extreme. He ducked the first volley, and then brought his fist around straight into Walters ruined nose. He didn't want to hurt her, but right now it was her weak spot, and it might help end the fight early. The remnants of cartilage and bone exploded, as his bloodied knuckles contacted with her already flattened proboscis, and she reeled backwards.
"Don't worry..." Clark offered, "You won't need to bother about your appearance where you're going. I hear the Kansas State Prison fails to notice such things..."
Walters screamed, and seized a large conical flask from Bryce's workbench, slamming it across Kent's head with all the force she could muster. He deflected most of the blow with his forearm, but still felt the sting, as several tiny shards of glass embedded in his skin. The container's innocuous liquid contents dribbled down his face and hand, but he had little time to notice. Walters had an even larger beaker in her hand now, and from the color of the chemical within, Clark knew he had to be more cautious with this projectile.
"Come and get it farm boy..." Walters lobbed her liquid grenade and then charged forward.
Kent sprang sideways, allowing his body to impact with Bryce's desk, and hoping to avoid the flying beaker's path. The glass container caught the edge of the scientist's table however, shattering into innumerable shards. The malevolent liquid it held sprayed out like a geyser erupting, and Clark was caught in its path. Spatters of the emerald demon splashed onto his jeans, and immediately began to soak through to the flesh beneath. There would be no time to wipe it away, or take off the effected clothes before his rival finished him off. It's over...unless...
Walters saw her foe deteriorate as he came into contact with the chemical, and knew this was her chance. She wouldn't need a weapon now; she could do this job the old fashioned way, with her bare hands. He deserved nothing less after destroying her features...
Clark let her advance, and believe that she was in total control of the scene. Then, as her assassin's hands closed around his neck, he snatched Bryce's keyboard from the desk, and slammed it down hard on Walters's skull. One blow was all it took, and as her eyes glazed and she crumpled to the floor, Clark felt compelled to check that he hadn't gone too far. What if I hit too hard? What if...? He had had no choice, but still the self-reproach became unbearable.
Clark leaned, intending to check Walters for a pulse, but his body had taken a battering of its own, and instead he fell forward, surrendering to his own mortality. Rolling onto his back, he lay there panting, and in agony. I wonder how long it will take for the kryptonite to finish the job the virus started? The ceiling above him began to spin, and he welcomed the darkness, for at least it brought with it a respite from the never-ending pain... I pray it was worth it Chloe...I pray you'll forgive me some day, for leaving you alone...
