Linda came to a full stop behind a large pile of wooden boxes next to a decrepit-looking warehouse, holding Jimmy in her arms, her braid half undone; she put the photographer on the ground down and began messing with her hair, trying to fix it.

"You want your glasses back?" Jimmy asked as he reached into his jacket pocket, holding them out to her, waiting.

"No," Linda said after a few moments, pulling the rubber band from her hair, letting it hang loose as she stuffed the rubber band in her pocket; Jimmy put her glasses back in his pocket. The two peeked stayed behind the boxes, looking up at the warehouse.

"So, how do you want to do this?" Linda asked.

"Can you give the place a quick buzz?" Jimmy asked; he glanced over and saw Linda looking at him, confused; he smiled slightly and tapped a finger near his eye. "I mean, x-ray the place."

Linda smirked. "Do you have a sound effect for every one of my powers?"

"No," Jimmy replied, blushing as he looked away.

Linda smiled a little as she turned and faced the building. Jimmy watched as she stared intently at the building. A few seconds passed before she growled softly.

"What?" Jimmy asked.

"It's lined with lead," Linda replied. "I can't see in."

"Probably figured Clark would be looking for him and took precautions," Jimmy said as he glanced around and saw a security camera placed high above an entrance door, slowly sweeping back and forth, "and he also has a camera."

Linda smiled. "That I can fix," she replied as she stared at the camera and focused. Her eyes briefly flashed a deep orange before two thin heat beams shot from her eyes. They struck the camera and sparks flew out before it partially melted to slag; smiling, she turned to Jimmy. "We're clear to go."

Jimmy slowly grinned. "You are awesome," he replied as he took her hand, and the two headed toward the door; Jimmy tried the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. "Locked."

"Not a problem for me," Linda replied, reaching for the handle.

"Not one for me either," Jimmy retorted as he stopped her before reaching into his other jacket pocket; he pulled out a small case, smiling. "Not every door has to be torn off." Linda raised an eyebrow as she watched him pull a few tools from the case before handing it to her. The photographer inserted the tools into the keyhole and expertly maneuvered them. After a few moments, he tried the knob again—it easily turned, and Jimmy pulled the door open before grinning at Linda; he put the tools back in the case and then slipped the case back in his jacket pocket. "I rest my case."

"So, let's review your talents," Linda said quietly after they carefully walked into the darkened warehouse, maneuvering around piles of boxes and crates. "You can hotwire a truck, hack computer systems, and pick locks."

"Next time I'll show you how to build a nuclear bomb out of paper clips and chewing gum," Jimmy replied. Linda gave him a weird look, and Jimmy chuckled. "Forget it."

The two teens walked into a clearing and stopped short, their eyes adjusting to the dim light. They spotted a workbench nearby, a single lamp shining brightly on the few small toys on it, machinery parts scattered everywhere; the two cautiously made their way over.

"I think it's safe to say your search paid off," Linda replied, slightly stunned.

Jimmy whistled softly. "I'll say," he said as he glanced around, squinting, trying to see into the shadows, "but where's Schott?"

Before Linda could answer, two large metal claws clamped tightly around the teens' necks; the two were quickly hoisted over ten feet into the air just as the overhead lights came on. They looked down and saw the clamps were actually hands attached to the arms of a nine foot metallic robot with glowing red eyes; standing beside it was Winslow Schott.

"Right here, kiddies," he said, smirking up at the struggling teens as he walked closer. "Mr. Olsen, it's been a long time."

"Not long enough," Jimmy wheezed, his face red.

"And who's your friend?" Schott asked, glancing at Linda. "She's cute—almost like a life-size Barbie doll," he smirked, "only not quite so endowed."

"Up yours, you psycho creep," Linda muttered.

"Sticks and stones may break some bones," Schott said in a singsong voice, "but Hal tears you to pieces." He smiled and gave a little wave before strolling casually away. "Hal, kill them—with extreme prejudice."

The robot's hands squeezed tighter around their necks; Jimmy's face turned a deep red as he struggled to breathe. Linda tried prying the robot's fingers from her neck, but she couldn't get a good grip; she quickly focused her telekinesis—and Hal's hands immediately flew open, dropping the two teens to the floor. Jimmy landed on his feet and stumbled, falling backward onto the hard concrete; Linda managed to land on her feet, crouching low.

"Jimmy, take cover," Linda said, her tone low and serious as she kept her eyes on the giant robot towering over them. Jimmy opened his mouth to protest, but quickly decided against it before scrambling to his feet and hurrying away; he took cover behind some nearby crates.

Linda narrowed her eyes as the robot raised its clenched fists, slamming them down. The teenager blurred away at the last second, and Hal's hands hit the floor, concrete cracking on impact; Linda stopped behind the robot.

"Over here, tin man," she shouted confidently.

The robot quickly turned and swung a fist down at her, but Linda easily caught it with both of her hands. Keeping a tight grip, she swung the robot around and let go; Hal sailed through the air and slammed into a wall fifty feet away, smashing into hundreds of pieces before falling to the floor.

Linda smiled, folding her arms, but she barely had time to savor her victory as she heard a deep rumbling sound; she turned to see two headlights shining from the shadows. The young girl furrowed her eyebrows when she saw a large, blue and green remote controlled monster truck slowly roll toward her, stopping twenty feet away.

"Okay," Linda said slowly, confused. The truck's hubcaps suddenly shot out, spinning like little silver Frisbees around the room, circling around before zooming toward her.

Jimmy watched from his hiding place as Linda easily knocked them away before they hit her, sending them in different directions; the hubcaps whizzed around with such force that they embedded themselves in different objects as they hit them—including the crate Jimmy peered over. The photographer stared at the silver object with wide eyes for several seconds before he cautiously reached out and ran his finger carefully along the edge, noting how razor sharp it felt. He glanced over at Linda, and their eyes met briefly, and Jimmy couldn't help but stare in awe as he watched her in action.

The sound of clicks and whirs caught their attention, and the teens looked over to see ten robotic ants the size of a Great Dane emerged from the shadows and quickly converged on the young girl, surrounding her.

"Really?" Linda asked, sound a little annoyed. A moment later, the ants simultaneously jumped at her, their metallic pinchers glistening in the light as they knocked her to the ground, piling up on her. Suddenly the ants flew in all directions, smashing into walls and other objects, breaking on impact. Linda got to her feet, her jacket completely shredded and her pants slashed, her hair mussed; she quickly removed the remains of her jacket, tossing them to the side, glaring.

A loud buzzing sound overhead caused her to look up and she saw a Volkswagen-sized robotic bee hovering overhead. She barely had time to register its arrival before it fired a harpoon-like stinger the size of a sabre at her; she deftly caught it with one hand before snapping it in half, tossing the pieces to the ground as she glared up the bee, focusing. Her eyes flashed deep orange, and intense heat beams shot from her eyes, striking the robot; it exploded, sending smoldering pieces in all directions as the main body of the machine fell to the floor in a charred, smoking heap.

"Is that all you got, Toyman?" she shouted in a mocking tone, smirking as she looked around for Schott. Suddenly, a sharp pain resonated through her head as a white flash of light simultaneously blinded her. The teenager shouted in pain as she grabbed the sides of her head, squeezing her eyes shut.


Linda opened her eyes and looked around in shock. She stood in the middle of a large circular room, but it wasn't Schott's warehouse. The walls and floor appeared to be made out of opaque silver-blue glass, and Linda looked up; the ceiling, at least thirty feet off the ground, appeared to be missing, but then the young girl noticed the glare from the red sun and realized the ceiling was made of a glass. The glass began splintering, and the floors and walls were developing large cracks; sections were crumbling, and Linda realized in that moment that everything was shaking.

A commotion caught her attention, and Linda looked down to see two figures fighting nearby. She couldn't see their faces, but she could tell by their builds that they were both adult men. The first held a large dagger—with a crystalline handle and silver blade with Kryptonian symbols Linda couldn't make out—in his hand; he appeared to be using it to defend himself against the second. Linda watched in horror as the second man suddenly maneuvered, swiftly grabbing the dagger from the first man and plunging it into the first man's abdomen. As the first man screamed in pain, a white light engulfed Linda and her head exploded.


Linda opened her eyes wide, gasping, as she quickly looked around in confusion. She was back in the warehouse in Metropolis, staring at a life-size replica of a green nutcracker with a musket. As it lifted the musket and aimed it at her, Linda raised an eyebrow, giving a slightly amused smile as she put her hands on her hips, setting her feet.

"Do you honestly think—"

The sound of the musket wasn't as loud as Linda had anticipated, but she ignored it when she saw the single bullet spiraling toward her in slow motion. She glanced over at Jimmy, and he appeared frozen in time, watching her with an expression of extreme worry; she grinned at how cute he looked before looking back at the bullet, now less than a foot away; her eyes widened in horror when she noticed the sickly green glow of the projectile. She quickly leapt to the side, but she wasn't fast enough, and the bullet pierced her right shoulder, embedding itself deep in her tissue; her shoulder exploded with agony, and she hit the hard concrete.

Linda rolled onto her back, writhing, clutching her shoulder, feeling her blood; this was far worse than the last time she'd been exposed to kryptonite. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, the bullet's toxic radiation spreading through her body. She stared up at Schott as he approached from the shadows and stood over her, a maniacal look in his eyes; her vision started blurring, and she felt like she was going to throw up. Jimmy, help me, she pleaded in her head.

"Well, this certainly answers a couple of questions," Schott said, kneeling beside the girl, still smiling cruelly.

"What are you talking about?" Linda asked, breathing hard, beads of sweat formed on her brow.

"Who you are," Schott said. "You see, I had intended that bullet to be used against Superman, but when I saw all the things you did to my lovely little inventions—which was very naughty, by the way—well, I asked myself if you shared Superman's weakness as well as his abilities," his smile widened, "and there was only one way to test that theory." He giggled excitably.

"You shot me," Linda moaned softly. "You've proven nothing."

"I've read what kryptonite does to Superman," Schott said, his eyes dancing maniacally. "A human can be injured by regular and kryptonite bullets—and it hurts—but to a Kryptonian, being shot with a kryptonite bullet is one of the worst pains imaginable. The poison spreads fast, making your blood feels like it's boiling, doesn't it?"

"You're sick, you know that?" Linda said softly, her voice shaking.

"Perhaps, but I'm also right," Schott replied before he smoothed some hair from Linda's face; the teenager flinched under his touch, disgusted. "I'm willing to bet Superman's been hiding you for quite some time, hasn't he?"

"I'm not…Kryptonian," Linda replied, wincing as her shoulder throbbed. "I have…no idea…what you're…talking about."

"Now, now," Schott said in a sickly sweet tone, "it's not good to lie to people; makes a bad first impression—and Lex really hates dishonest people."

"Lex?" Linda asked weakly, slightly panicked as she fought to stay conscious.

"Lex Luthor," Schott answered. "We have a small agreement: I kill some people for him, and he provides me the kryptonite I need to take care of Superman. Now, despite your impressive abilities, you are not my intended target; it's nothing personal."

"So, what are you going to do with me?" Linda asked softly, her vision growing dim.

"Hand you over to Lex, of course," Schott answered. "He's always experimenting on different and unusual things, and I'm sure he'll have more use for the infamous Girl of Metropolis than I will." Linda stared at him with a look of horror as he smiled cruelly down at her.

A sickening crack of metal against bone suddenly echoed through the warehouse, and Schott instantly grunted and his smile faded; his eyes rolled up, and he crumpled to the floor beside Linda, unconscious; Linda blinked blankly at him for a few seconds before she slowly craned her neck upward. Jimmy stood nearby, breathing hard and clutching a metal bat so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"The hell he will," he growled, glaring at the unconscious villain.

"Jimmy," Linda whimpered softly, and Jimmy looked down at her. His stomach turned to ice when he saw the blood oozing slowly between her fingers. Time suddenly felt as if it were crawling as he dropped the bat; it clanged against the floor as he hurried over to Linda, kneeling beside her.

"It…hurts," Linda whimpered softly, tears filling her eyes.

"I-i-it's okay, Linda," Jimmy whispered, his voice and hands shaking as he tried to stay focused; he felt as if everything gently removed her hand to get a look at the wound. Blood—her blood—soaked through her shirt, and he saw the slight green glow of the bullet still deep in her shoulder as the edges started turning black.

Get her out of here, Jimmy.

Jimmy jerked his head up and looked around, tensing as he quickly reached for the bat. The voice had been so soft that the teen wasn't sure he'd actually heard it. He scanned the shadows, looking and hearing for anything. After a few seconds, he slowly put the bat down next to his feet. "Alright, Linda, I'm gonna get you out of here." When Linda didn't respond, Jimmy glanced down; her eyes were closed. "Linda?"

When she didn't respond, Jimmy quickly scrambled into a kneeling position. He took a deep breath and braced himself, mustering all his strength and slowly lifted her in his arms; his muscles strained as he slowly got to his feet. He held her securely in his arms and carried her out of the warehouse; he was so focused on getting Linda to safety that he missed the figure standing in the shadows, watching the teenager leave with his precious cargo.

Once the coast was clear, the figure left his spot and walked into the light. He was tall, well-built, with a long facial structure and sharp eyes. He wordlessly approached the unconscious body of the toy man and smirked briefly before pulling a white cloth and small brown bottle from his trench coat pocket. He poured some liquid on the cloth before wiping up the small drops of blood on the floor where Linda had lain; he then took the bat and carefully held it as he wiped the area where Jimmy had held it. Wordlessly, he put the bat back where he had found it before putting the bottle and soiled cloth back in his pocket; he got to his feet, picked up the remains of Linda's jacket nearby, and calmly walked back into the shadows.


Jimmy kicked the door open, huffing loudly as he carried Linda's limp body out of the warehouse. His body quivered as he made as far as the pile of crates they had earlier hid behind before his legs finally gave out; he collapsed to his knees, breathing loudly, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked down at Linda and noticed how ashen her face looked, how lifeless she appeared. The photographer smoothed some hair from her face, knowing there was only one thing to do as he craned his head skyward.

"SUPERMAN!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

(End of Chapter 14)