Chapter Three
Chloe, Clark and Pete waited patiently by the door of the penthouse while Quinn went from room to room, searching for any possible intruders. Chloe let out a tiny breath of relief when he returned to them. "All clear," he told them stoically.
"Great, thanks," she smiled tiredly at him and flipped on the lights in the living room.
"Damn!" Pete cried, looking around the room in awe. Chloe had to agree with that; the penthouse was amazing. Unlike the antique, conservative mansion, this place was sleek and modern. One wall was made entirely of windows overlooking the city, and there was a wire-suspended staircase leading up to a second level, probably containing the bedrooms. The couch was very comfortable looking, made of stretched black leather, and faced an enormous wall-mounted wide screen TV. There was a fireplace, a few paintings hanging on the walls, and a huge skylight.
The kitchen was sleek as well; all stainless steel, and the cupboards were stacked with food. "Lex said that there was a room here for me," Chloe told them.
"Well let's see it then," Pete grinned. They all climbed up the stairs to find her bedroom. Along the way they discovered what was clearly the master bedroom, a large bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub, and a storage cupboard full of linens. Pete wandered down to the end of the hall and announced that he'd found another bedroom. "It could be this one."
Clark peeked his head out of the last room and shook it at Pete. "That must be a spare room," he told them quickly before ducking back in. Chloe and Pete hurried to join him, both of their eyes widening as soon as they entered the room.
"Uh...well this one is definitely your room," Pete nodded. Chloe smiled and sat gingerly on the plush white duvet cover. There was a glass-topped desk built into the wall, a large comfy bed, a changing screen in the corner, and several shelves with various picture frames sitting on them. Pete walked over to the desk and opened the blue iBook that sat there, whistling while he did.
Clark picked up one of the frames off of the shelves and held it up for Chloe to see. "Is this you in Paris?" he asked her. Chloe frowned and hopped off of the bed, walking over and taking the frame from him. It was a picture of her and Lana, in front of the dress store, smiling into the camera. She nodded to Clark and quickly checked the rest of the frames, discovering that they were copies of all of the pictures that she had framed in her room at the mansion.
"He must have had copies made," she told them, smiling gently at a picture of her and Gabe on her eighth birthday.
"Wonder what's in the closet?" Pete reached out and opened the door. "Oh, a mall." Chloe snorted but went to see what he'd discovered, finding a walk-in closet full of clothes.
"I guess he likes to shop," Clark eye's widened at the selection.
"No he has a personal shopper," Chloe told them absentmindedly and pulled a gold bustier-style shirt off of the rack.
Clark eyed the shirt. "That can't be comfortable," he noted, eyeing the vertical boning in the bodice.
"Not really," she shrugged. "But they make your chest look..." she trailed off, realizing that both Clark and Pete were watching her with wide eyes. "I mean, no. They're not really comfortable."
Pete checked the label on the shirt. "I don't think people buy this for comfort," he noted. Clark looked at the label too and frowned.
"Who's Vera Wang?" he asked them. Chloe rolled her eyes at his small town mind.
Suddenly a loud thump sounded from downstairs. "What was that?" she muttered. She closed the closet door and followed Clark and Pete back down the hallway.
"Quinn?" Clark called as they rounded the corner. The lights were off downstairs and they had to cling to the side rails of the staircase on the way down. Chloe reached the landing just after the others and they all began groping at the wall, trying to find a light switch.
"Yes," Pete muttered quickly before flipping on the switch that he'd found. The room was flooded with bright light so harsh that they all flinched momentarily. When the spots in front of her eyes cleared, Chloe began to look around the room for Quinn. "Oh shit," Pete swore.
They followed his gaze to the crumpled heap on the floor. Quinn. Chloe rushed over and felt for a pulse. "Is he dead?" Pete cried.
"He'll be fine," a gruff voice said from the doorway behind them. They spun around to see a large man step out of the shadows, a handgun trained on them and another gun hanging limply at his side. "That one was just a tranquilizer," he slipped the one gun into his waistband, still keeping the handgun trained on Chloe. "This one however..."
She knew this guy. She ran through London trying to get away from him. Clark raised his hands slowly and stepped closer to her, easing himself to stand in front of her.
"Just put the gun down," Clark told him slowly.
"How about you move away from the girl and I don't shoot your other friend in the head," the man growled at Clark and then moved his gun to the left, training it on Pete now. Pete gulped and stood ramrod straight.
"Don't listen to him Clark," Pete shook his head nervously. "He'll shoot her; don't move!"
"Okay!" Chloe cried and slowly eased her way around Clark, hands up in the air so that the gun-toting-hit man could see. "How about you don't shoot anyone. We can talk about this."
"Sorry honey," he leered at her. "I'm not stupid Sullivan, I know that you know who I am."
"Yes I know," she nodded, trying not to let her body quake with fear. "And I know why you're here."
"Good that makes this easier then," he smirked, waving the gun a little. "I usually have to explain why I'm there, why I have a gun. You know."
"Why are you?" Clark demanded. "What is it that is so important that you have to kill an innocent girl?"
"Right," the guy rolled his eyes and trained the gun on Chloe again. "You must be the small town kid. Listen Sullivan, not that I'm holding a grudge or anything, but you made me look real bad in front of my employer."
"I'm sorry," she deadpanned. "Next time I'll remember to let the bad guys catch me once or twice so that they don't look bad."
"I'm not the bad guy Chloe," he feigned hurt. "You're the one who backed out of your contract with Mr. Luthor. I'm just here getting retribution."
"You're crazy if you think that killing me will solve everything," she snarked. "If I turn up dead the courts are going to be pretty curious as to why the leading witness in the Luthor case suddenly got shot. You can't think for a second that Lionel will take the fall for that. You'll be in jail faster than he can point his finger at you."
"We have an agreement about that," the guy smirked at her. "A safe getaway planned. They'd never find me."
"There's no where on this planet that Luthor won't find you," she told him darkly. "If Lionel doesn't, Lex certainly will. If you kill any of us he'll have you begging for mercy."
"Yeah I heard that you had a real smart mouth on you," he returned just as darkly. "That's what got you into this whole mess in the first place, isn't it?"
Chloe blinked at him as if he'd just slapped her. He was absolutely right and they all knew it; it was her smart mouth and curiosity that got her into this situation. "What do you want?" she asked him slowly, voice gravelly.
"Are you stupid too?" he cried, shooting a look at Clark quickly. "I want you dead Chloe." He said it as if they were all very deficient.
"No," she said in the same tone. "What do you really want?"
"I just told you," he growled. "I want you dead so that I can get paid!"
"Is that it?" she snorted. "You want to get paid?"
"No I don't buy it," Clark shook his head. "If that's all he wanted he'd have shot us by now. I think he's looking to make a deal."
"Actually flannel boy, I'm not," he rolled his eyes.
"Then why are you still here?" Pete finally found his voice again. "I mean, shouldn't you shoot us and then get out as quick as you can?"
"Luthor told me that I could take care of blondie anyway that I want," he leered at her again. "I hadn't planned on having you two here, but let's just call that a bonus."
"There must be something else that you want," Chloe pushed, trying to quell the sudden urge to vomit. "Something that Lionel Luthor isn't really in the position of giving you right now."
"Chloe!" Pete and Clark both gaped at her.
"Oh please!" she yelled back in disgust. "I was talking about money! How much is Lionel paying you?"
The man frowned. "Why?" he asked her suspiciously.
"I can double it," she told him confidently. "Twice what he's giving you and a plane ticked to wherever you want to go."
"You don't have that kind of money," he shook his head and leveled the gun on her head again.
"Lex does," she told him evenly, ignoring the worried glances from Clark and Pete. "I can get it for you before daybreak."
"How? You call Lex Luthor and fill him in on the fact that I'm here? I don't think so," he shook his head again.
"No, I get a cash advance off of the credit card that he gave me and you hop on the first place out of Metropolis," she explained.
"That's an awful lot of money to take off a credit card little girl," he sneered as if she were that stupid.
"Lex has an awful lot of money," she sneered back. "And he's very generous, didn't even limit my card access. I can take out as much as I want."
"So apparently he's stupid too," the guy laughed bitterly. "I'd always assumed that he was intelligent. What's to stop you from robbing him blind?"
"He's not stupid," she said defensively. "And he's not worried about me taking his money."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want it," she smirked at him. "But I know that you do."
"We're done talking about this unless I see some plastic darlin'," he told her.
Chloe nodded. "It's in my purse," she pointed to the couch where she'd put her purse down.
"Go get it," he pointed quickly with the barrel of the gun. "Slowly." She nodded again and made her way over to the couch. She turned her back to them and opened the purse, trying not to let them see when she grabbed the wallet with one hand and the cell phone with the other. She quickly hit two buttons on the phone, speed dial 2. While her phone dialed she found the credit card in her wallet.
Lex groaned when the cell phone rang again, but he rolled over and grabbed it off of the nightstand anyway. He'd just started to fall asleep! The call display read "Chloe". "Luthor," he yawned into the phone. There was no answer on the other line, but he could make out voices, very faint and far away. "Hello?"
A muffled voice came through the speaker, vaguely familiar. "What's taking so long?"
"I'm sorry but having that gun at my back is making me kind of jumpy," Chloe's voice was louder than the first and it made Lex sit up straight in his bed. "Here."
He struggled to hear the rest of the conversation but could only make out vague muffled sounds. Keeping the cell phone to one ear, Lex reached for the house phone and dialed Quinn's cell, wondering where in the hell the bodyguard.
Lex could hear Quinn's phone ring over both lines. "What's that?" the fist voice demanded, more clearly this time.
"His phone," Lex recognized Clark's voice. "Should I answer it?"
"Should I shoot you in the head?" the man returned. "Sit your ass down...now! All of you!" Lex felt his throat tighten at the very idea of his three young friends getting hurt.
"Listen," Chloe said shakily and Lex had to strain to hear her. "If I go with you right now to get the money will you leave them alone?"
"She's not going anywhere with you," Clark said. Lex hung up on Quinn's phone, the ringing stopped, and dialed the Metropolis Police Department.
"No one is going anywhere until morning," Randy told them sharply.
"Why not?" the girl demanded.
"It doesn't matter why," he snapped. The fact was though that if Randy wanted to get out of the building without being caught on tape, he'd have to wait until the next shift change for the security team, which was at noon. "Best get comfy kids, we're here 'til lunch time. That is, if you don't piss me off."
"You know," the girl raised her hand as if she were in class. "If Quinn doesn't answer his phone, Lex will wonder why."
"Let him wonder then," Randy scowled at her even though he knew that she was right. He sighed. "Okay, all of you get up and sit on the couch." It was easier to keep an eye on all of them at once if they were all close together. They slowly climbed to their feet and made their way to the leather couch, the girl sitting in the middle. "Good. Now stay." He sat down on a nearby stool and kept the gun trained on them, his back to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows.
He glared at them for a few minutes, enjoying the way that they fidgeted uncomfortably. Like he'd told the girl, Randy just wanted to get paid. He was considering her offer though, because the extra money would be enough to get him away from Luthor for good. Unless they managed to find him...
"Do you guys hear..." the third kid listened carefully. "Sounds like sirens." Randy listened too, and sure enough, the distant sound of sirens began to grow louder. He wasn't worried, a city like Metropolis had plenty of crime and he had no reason to believe that they were after him.
"It's just a siren kid," Randy told him shortly. "How about you stop talk—"They all froze, the girl sat up straighter, as the familial sound of a phone left off the hook filled the room. He looked at the girl in realization. "Throw me the purse. Now!"
The Kent kid grabbed the purse from behind him and tossed it to Randy. The sirens were growing louder even as he dumped the contents of the purse out onto the hard wood floor. He found the source of the beeping, a cell phone, and picked it up. The keypad was illuminated and the display read "Lex". He clicked the off button and hurled the phone at the wall, watching in satisfaction as it broke into dozen's of pieces.
"You stupid bit—" Randy's cry was drowned out by the sudden appearance of a blue floodlight hovering outside the windows, and the telltale whirring sounds of helicopter propellers.
"This is the Metropolis Police Department," a voice said through a megaphone. The helicopter flew up to the top of the building, they could see it through the skylight, and Randy was sure that officers were making their way up from the lobby at that very moment.
The three kids all watched him nervously from the couch. "Sorry sweetheart," he yelled over all of the outside noise. "No deal!" Randy pointed the gun straight at her chest and pulled the trigger.
Clark watched the hit man wearily from his position on the couch. When the floodlights shone in he considered jumping to action then, to catch him by surprise, but hesitated. He wasn't about to let Chloe and Pete be shot, but he was still hesitant about using his abilities. Especially with cops swarming around the building.
But when the guy aimed at Chloe again, and pulled the trigger, Clark was off of the couch in a flash. The boom of the gun, and Chloe and Pete's cries echoed through his ears as he sped forward. The world took on that familiar, slow motion feeling while he interacted in a speed that felt normal to him. He dove forward, allowing the bullet to hit him in the chest, where it caved in on itself and fell to the ground. His arms locked around the man at the knees to knock him onto his back.
Clark slowed down and time moved back to normal, Clark and the man hit the floor roughly, the other's screams dying out. Clark grabbed for the gun but the man had already dropped it, and it went sliding across the hard wood floor.
Clark struggled to hold the guy down; he wasn't nearly as strong but he refused to hold still. Chloe scrambled across the floor to get the gun, and he could hear Pete opening the door and calling out into the hallway; the cops were coming.
Chloe ran back over, gun in hand. She pointed it at the hit man and, though her shoulders shook with barely restrained fear, her hand was surprisingly steady. The sound of another approaching helicopter distracted Clark for a second. One second too long apparently because the next thing that he knew, two metal prongs were sticking to his side and a bolt of electricity was shooting through his body. Not enough to seriously hurt him, but he definitely felt it. He cried out and instinctively rolled off of the man, feeling the after effects of the tazer and only faintly hearing Chloe scream.
The man scrambled to his feet and stared Chloe down. Clark struggled to shake himself out of the trance he was in.
"I don't think you have it in you," he leered at Chloe again and pulled a gun out of a holster on his ankle. They circled each other tensely until his back was to the window again. "Come on little girl, you were the one who messed with the big boys." He cocked the gun.
Clark shook himself mentally and managed to climb to his feet, the ground swaying slightly under him. Before he could reach them, a second gunshot rang out through the room. Chloe and the hit man were standing too close together for him to stop the bullet, and Clark saw the splatter of blood as it fanned out. Chloe made a choking noise and dropped her gun in shock. She stuttered. "I- I..."
Clark watched in shock as the man teetered back and forth a bit, and they reached out towards her. He grabbed the front of her shirt and when he fell backwards she went with him. They both crashed through the window, shattering the glass into a waterfall, and began to fall. Clark ignored the familiar cries from the doorway behind him and dove forward again. He landed on his stomach again and reached out the window, locking his hand around Chloe's wrist just before she fell out of reach.
When time returned to normal, the hit man lost his grip on Chloe, plummeting to the ground with a sickening scream. Clark grabbed her other wrist with his free hand and used his feet to anchor himself enough to pull her back inside. He tugged upwards, hard enough to lift her back into the building. She crashed into him roughly, sending both of them sliding backwards into the living room. Clark fell back onto the floor, the glass shards hitting his back harmlessly, and Chloe landed safely on top of him.
For a few seconds everything was still, and Clark worried that he had hurt her pulling her back in like that.
Chloe felt nauseous, and heard nothing except the memory of a blood curdling scream and the steady thumping of Clark's heart beating under her ear. She could feel the wet and sticky blood that splattered her face and soaked her shirt. Blood...
She scrambled off of Clark as quickly as she could, her shoes slipping on the shards of glass and air seemingly impossible to find. "It's all over me," she muttered, replaying his shocked face over and over in her mind. She barely registered Clark climbing to his feet, or Pete and Lex's rapid approach. And then someone said her name.
"Chloe?"
"Chloe?"
"Chloe!"
"What?" he head snapped up and the haze seemed to lift. Everything was suddenly painfully clear. She looked up and saw Pete, Clark and Lex staring at her. She frowned at them. "I..."
"Are you okay?" Clark asked her. She blinked at him and then looked down at her blood soaked, and now ripped, shirt.
"I..." she lifted the hem of the shirt up, as she'd done in the tattoo parlor, and let them see that she was not shot. Her skin had no bullet hold through it, the blood wasn't hers. "I shot him. I shot him...I d-didn't ...I just..."
"It's okay Chloe," Lex rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you need to sit down?"
"No," she shook her head and then peered up at Clark, realization dawning on her face. "You..."
Clark's eyes developed that familiar, panicked look and she shook her head, forgetting what she was about to say. "I thought I was going to fall," she muttered instead. Pete grabbed her hand and led her to the couch, and she let him.
"So did we," Lex nodded, crouching down in front of her. "We're lucky that Clark was able to catch you."
"Yeah," she nodded absentmindedly, trying to forget the oddly clear memory of sitting on a couch, staring down the barrel of a gun. "Lucky."
TBC...