Part Two – Into the Abyss
Chapter Nine
The LexCorp helicopter landed gracefully onto the frozen lawn within the large rural estate. As the 'copter's blades slowed to a standstill, two well-dressed men jogged towards the small aircraft. They slid open the passenger door and assisted its lone occupant out of the aircraft.
Tess Carmichael paused momentarily to adjust her dark glasses and the knee-length wool and cashmere overcoat she wore. It was frightening to realise just how far the temperature could drop in this part of the country. Even though spring was upon them, the late thaw--so typical of rural areas-- made her long for the over-cooked atmosphere of a city like New York or even Metropolis, she mused.
Acknowledging the men with a nod of her head, she followed them as they led her across the estate's snow covered grounds. The three-inch heels of her boots crunched hard against the thick snow until they reached a cleared gravel path that lead up to the imported Scottish slate and stone walls of the Luthor mansion.
She'd only been here once before, years ago, when she'd first arrived in Metropolis. Back then she'd overseen the inventory and storage of a number of Lex's rare and delicate items.
Entering the mansion Tess quickly removed her dark glasses. The sharp contrast from bright, frosty afternoon to the darkened manor's interior was jarring. She removed her coat and handed it to one of the men who'd accompanied her inside.
"This way, Ms Carmichael. He's waiting for you in the library," another nameless man indicated, and she followed him down the long wood panelled hall.
-8-
The impressive two-story library struck Tess as lifeless and cold. The many shelves that at one time or another must have held thousands of rare books, first editions and other significant tomes, now stood bare, devoid of any literature.
She took a sip of the gin and club soda that Lex had met her with upon entry. With his back to her she watched as Lex prowled the large space around them, his fingers stroking across lonely wooden panels and shelves. He would pause at odd moments, as if lost in thought, perhaps recovering long forgotten memories, but he'd move on again quickly, banishing whatever emotions that threatened to surface behind a dismissive smile, or perhaps, Tess considered, it was a barely contained snarl. She felt she knew Lex well enough now to make that assessment of him.
Since Lex's high-profile return to Metropolis they'd developed a routine of getting together every few weeks to discuss LexCorp's expanding business empire's portfolio. Although she had to admit that this particular meeting hadn't been scheduled, her pilot had simply informed her that Mr. Luthor had required her presence.
As the corporation's acting CEO, Tess had initiated the development of a number of business ventures, including the creation of LexLand, the company's property development venture which now owned the city's newest and most fashionable hotel, The Alexander.
LexLand acquisitions were not confined to the United States, as Tess had also brokered deals that included developing prime real estate in many diverse locations across the globe, from London to Dubai, and from Sydney to Buenos Aires.
LexTec was the organisation's software and computing arm with its emphasis on targeting media related software applications. LexCorp analysts were projecting that within three-years LexTec would be the market leader in its field; with every news gathering organisation, every film or televisual company across the developed world, using equipment powered by the revolutionary and patented LexTec LTC-01 processor microchip.
The LTC-01, more commonly referred to within-house as the LexTec 'chip, had been designed and developed in secrecy to work almost like a virus; crippling and transforming any media specific applications around it into non-responsive programs, before grafting a new matrix onto its existing programming that could then work exclusively and seamlessly with other LexTec products.
Tess had recalled sharing a joke over a secured phone line with Lex about the prototypes they'd developed and how they'd managed to, "Beat Gates at his own game."
Lex had also fully endorsed Tess' ideas when she'd suggested that LexFoods become the natural successor to LuthorCorps' agricultural roots. LexFoods would become the global market leader by not only continuing to stimulate the growth of grain and crops in the developing world, but it would be responsible for producing and developing those foodstuffs -- effectively feeding the world and covertly influencing the diets of millions by infusing them with an addictive additives, designed to be untraceable to all world food and health organisations.
And so the list went on.
Unsure as to why Lex would divert her scheduled meeting in Central City to bring her to Smallville she half joked; "When are you going to put this place on the market, Lex? I'm sure LexLand could find a number of prospective buyers for you."
Lex had his body turned away from her, his body language not portraying he'd heard any part of her question. After another minute he casually turned and made his way across the floor to a large, flat mahogany desk, flanked on all sides by high-backed leather chairs. It was the only furniture in the room, and it seemed to be serving as a bar as well as a desk.
Lex stood to one side and poured himself a shot of whiskey from an ornate crystal decanter that sat between a bucket of ice, a fresh whisky glass, a bottle of gin and a half-opened bottle of club soda.
Tess watched in silence as Lex tossed a couple of ice cubes into the glass after the whiskey.
Perhaps this wasn't a "business" meeting after all.
Maybe this was the point, she mused, that Lex decided he was ready to come back and run LexCorp full-time. Maybe this whole mystery detour was his unique way of conducting an exit interview. After all, she knew this ride wouldn't go on forever, and after tasting life in the big chair; as a head of a multinational organisation, she could never go back to being just another LexCorp Director.
"This is one home I don't know if I'll ever be ready to sell," Lex confessed suddenly. He offered Tess a tight smile as he raised his glass in acknowledgment before taking a drink.
So, he had heard her.
"I learned a lot about life, right here in this room," he went on. "I learned about friendship and loyalty and betrayal."
Slowly Tess approached the desk and slid her glass along the surface, she turned to face him, her hands resting determinedly on her hips.
"Is this your way of telling me I'm out?" she demanded. "I always knew you'd want to come back and pick up from where you left off, Lex, but like this? I did everything you asked of me, and more. I believed in you and I believed in this company, I still do—"
"Have you been watching him?" Lex casually interrupted Tess' passionate tirade.
"You… I … what?"
"I'm sure at some stage we'll have the conversation you were alluding to, but we're not there just yet," Lex said dismissively. "I gave you full autonomy and access to a very important project, Tess, and right now I need to know its status. Have you been watching him?" he repeated.
Tess struggled to compose herself for a moment, caught off guard by the combination of Lex's impromptu meeting and his unusually difficult demeanour.
"Yea … yes," she stammered.
"And?"
"We're ready to go to phase three," Tess responded smoothly, finally able to fully compose herself. "We're a go whenever you're ready."
"Where's the latest report?"
Tess removed a small, thin, compact hand-held device from a subtle pocket hidden in the folds of her skirt and tapped in a series of commands. "I've just encrypted and uploaded the latest surveillance to your organiser."
Sliding a similar device to the one Tess had used out of his jacket pocket he thumbed the device to life before concentrating on the small screen for a few minutes, nodding his head in approval.
"Almost time," he whispered. He raised his head sharply and pierced Tess with a demanding and unsettling look. "What time is it?" he demanded.
Tess blinked and checked her gold Rolex watch. "It's 4:30."
"I have a plane to catch," he said suddenly. "I want you to go to phase three in exactly seventy-two hours. Understood?"
"Seventy-two hours; of course."
"Walk out with me," he said, striding towards the door. Tess dutifully followed. Along the hallway one of Lex' guards appeared, holding out an overcoat, Lex took it and smoothly slid it over his shoulders.
"I've been impressed with you, Tess," Lex said, turning to give her the first genuine smile she'd seen from him since she'd arrived. "Your loyalty and commitment have been outstanding. I won't forget your efforts."
And as quickly as that, Lex was making his way outside and along the gravel path, the helicopter Tess had arrived in, whirring to life, it's rotors picking up speed as Lex dropped to a crouch before climbing inside.
"We're bringing a car around for you now, Ms. Carmichael," the guard shouted over the rising aircraft. "It'll take you back to Metropolis."
"I have a meeting in Central City," she clarified, hugging her arms around herself against the cold while she watched the aircraft pull back and up before turning into the eastern sky.
"Mr. Luthor's rescheduled that meeting for you, Ma'am," the hulking aide instructed. Another guard approached them, this one carrying what appeared to be Tess' coat.
"Mr. Luthor said you have some urgent business to attend to in the city."
Yes, Tess mused, Lex would definitely want her to handle this next phase personally. And if he'd already made arrangements for her return, then wasn't he already aware of where the project stood? Had this been some sort of test or game?
Either way, he'd seemed to be pleased with the answers, so that had to be a good thing, right?
A little bit of the tension she'd been feeling began to ease its way out from across her tight shoulders and she found herself relieved and pleased that she had, A) put a smile back on Lex's face, and B) had retained the title of LexCorp's CEO.
As she accepted her coat from the other guard and slid her shapely legs into the newly arrived limousine, Tess was hard pressed to decide which feat had pleased her more.
-8-
Lex couldn't wait for the short flight to his fuelled and waiting private jet to be over. He rubbed lightly at his erection through the cotton and wool mix fabric of his trousers. He was so close now to achieving his aim that he found it almost impossible not to grope himself, and it had been years since he'd experienced this sort of excitement.
However, it wasn't time to celebrate, not yet, but perhaps he could take the edge off a little. He quickly made a phone call.
"Have a model waiting for me when I arrive," he coldly instructed before making a second call. "Ramp up the power outage on the plant. Move it from level 3 to level 5 … yes, I'm aware of that … no, we won't. Bring the teams in and await further instructions … Oh, really? … I wouldn't worry about that. Yes. Now, make it happen."
-8-
07:55 AM - 56 Hours and 35 minutes to Phase 3
"Honey, hurry up in the bathroom, we're going to be late."
Clark drained the cup of coffee he'd been drinking before placing the mug into the kitchen sink. He fidgeted with his shirt collar and tie before scanning the bathroom again, situated on the upstairs level of their comfortably sized three-bedroom apartment, a wedding gift from Oliver Queen.
The apartment was part of an 18-story luxury apartment complex, owned by Oliver's Queen Industries.
Oliver had insisted that they accept this particular apartment as a wedding gift for a number of reasons; the large secluded balcony off the main living room, which afforded Superman the privacy of arriving or leaving home without the added fear of prying eyes; a large fourth bedroom, which Ollie had generously converted for them into an office/library space, big enough for two spacious desks and a giant flat screen TV that hung on the wall simultaneously broadcasting all the major news channels from around the world on a picture-in-picture application.
There were his and her walk-in closets fitted in the master bedroom and Ollie had been sure to provide Clark with enough room so that he could create a false space behind his regular suits, to hide his Superman persona costumes if he so desired.
Clark and Lois' combined annual incomes wouldn't even have gotten them a viewing in this part of the fashionable New Troy area, but as close friends of the philanthropic billionaire the rent on such a large, fully modernised, wireless enabled and custom ready apartment, was--without question--also scandalously cheap.
There was no way to turn down such a generous gift or ever thank Ollie enough for his generosity.
"Lois, you look beautiful already, now come on," he shouted up to her.
He was using his X-ray vision to watch Lois while she applied her lipstick and primped at her hair. "We have a staff meeting this morning, remember?" Clark continued to urge impatiently.
His wife shot back an irritable and loud, "Hold your horses."
Clark smiled to himself as he watched Lois emerge from the bathroom fully dressed and at a run. She used her momentum to slide her stocking clad feet across the parquet floor of their bedroom, coming to rest by the foot of their king sized bed.
"Where the hell are my shoes?" he heard her mutter from above.
Giving the large living area of their apartment a quick scan, he spotted the heeled pair of pumps his wife favoured for work. "Lo, they're down here," he shouted up to her obligingly.
Collecting his jacket from the back of their burgundy leather couch he slipped into it before retrieving the shoes in question and brought them to the foot of the stairs, where he met her as she made her way down breathlessly.
"Thanks," she said, grabbing the heels from him and slipping one on, before hopping and hobbling her way into the kitchen.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what she was after and Clark beat her to it. Super-speeding ahead of her to fix her a mug of coffee, just the way she liked it.
It was under her nose before she'd made it to the kitchen island.
Lois took a sip from the offered mug and nearly swooned. "Ummmm," she sighed dreamily, her eyes closing as the caffeine brought her slowly to full consciousness.
"Better?" Clark teased beside her.
"Much," she agreed with a long moan before taking another sip.
"Here," Clark said, lifting her easily and setting her atop the island before reaching for the shoe she still held in her right hand.
"I can do that," she protested.
"You always say that," he rumbled playfully. "Let me," he offered, kissing her nose. "You drink your coffee."
He bent and squatted back on his thighs, taking his time to ease her left foot into the shoe, taking time to caress her ankle, calf and her ticklish foot-bottom through the stretch nylon of her stocking.
"I thought we were running late," she reminded him with a giggle and a seductive smile.
"We've still got a few minutes," he said, his eyes full of amusement.
"Minutes?" Lois questioned, her demeanour changing instantly from playful to frustrated. "Nu-uh, Smallville! Enough of the stolen moments already; I need more than some heavy petting in a storage closet and a few kisses over coffee," she argued dejectedly.
He hung his head and moaned out an aggravated, "I know." His own mood instantly sobered.
Even when they experienced a slow news week in Metropolis, Superman was still needed elsewhere around the globe. There was never enough time for just the two of them and it had been weeks since they'd been able to make love the way they both wanted to.
They'd both been forced to subsist on too many rushed and fumbling hand jobs while rushing between hectic work schedules and having to divert disasters—literally. There never seemed to be enough time to indulge in the erotic pleasuring of each other.
And if it was already bad for him, Clark wondered how his very tactile and passionate wife was able to reign in her own needs during such a mutually unwanted "dry spell."
"Maybe we can get away this weekend," he suggested. "Visit Mom on the farm or maybe … you know, spend a day … at the … Fortress?" he finished hopefully, a bashful little grin lighting his features.
At his suggestion Clark immediately heard Lois' heartbeat speed up. He moved in closer to her, sliding her skirt up a little to stand between her spread thighs, brushing them softly with his fingertips.
She slid her empty coffee mug across the counter to reach up and, resting her arms on his broad shoulders, she threaded her fingers through the thick, dark hair at his nape to agree seductively with his suggestion, and biting her lower lip in that way she did that made his blood rush instantly south to Clark Jr, Lois purred, "The Fortress sounds nice."
"A weekend away it is, then," she agreed, leaning up to share a series of soft, wet, kisses that managed to be both affectionate and restrained.
Quality time together was just a few days away, Clark reminded himself.
They broke the kiss, sharing mutual looks of hunger and erotic anticipation before Lois gently, but deliberately pushed at his chest to create a little distance before sliding off the kitchen island. After adjusting her skirt she grabbed a reluctant Clark by the cuff of his jacket and marched them off towards the front door of their apartment.
"I'm going to hold you to that, Smallville. Now, come on, we don't want to be late," she prompted, stopping to grab her coat and throw her leather messenger bag across her shoulder.
"Glasses," she reminded him, bending to quickly retrieve Clark's spectacles from the nearby coffee table.
"What would I do without you?" he murmured teasingly, easing the glasses into place across the bridge of his nose and noticing that she'd managed to get her heartbeat back under some control. His slowly declining erection was still coming to terms with having to wait for what it craved more than anything; Lois.
His wife smirked and shrugged, "I don't know, but I'm betting it wouldn't be pretty," she joked, dragging him by the arm again as they made there way out of the apartment.
Clark paused as they stepped out into the hallway of their apartment building.
Lois looked up at his pensive expression. "What is it, what's wrong?"
"I'm not sure," he said, his voice barely above a whisper while he tried to concentrate on what had grabbed his attention. "Crying… moaning … sounds like twisted metal against--" His eyes snapped to Lois' in horror. "Highway pile-up."
"Clark, go!" Lois urged.
In a moment he had disappeared from her sight, the speed of his departure whipping Lois' shoulder length hair around her shoulders and face.
He didn't have to ask her if she would cover for him at work; he knew that she would. And he'd never had to ask her permission to save somebody's life or help someone in need; he knew she felt the same way about helping people as he did.
He could catch a falling plane; stop an out of control 18-wheeler, or a raging building or forest fire.
Lois helped people by writing--highlighting injustice and corruption, exposing fraudsters, thieves, liars and murderers--a pen and her hard-drive her only weapons against those she helped to bring to justice.
Clark often wondered if he would have shared his wife's bravery without his powers and virtual invincibility.
"Go, Smallville."
Her proudly whispered words, into the empty hallway of their apartment building wouldn't have been heard by anyone else, but he heard it. And those two simple words buoyed him up and sustained him throughout the long, gruelling and sometimes agonising task of pulling the dead, dying and badly injured from the shredded metal, gore and blood covered wreckage that met him on a rain slickened interstate highway.
-8-
17:37 PM - 46 Hours and 53 minutes to Phase 3
"Olsen!" Perry White bellowed out from the open door of his office.
"Yeah, Chief?"
"Where are those pictures I asked for?"
"Which ones, Chief? Superman pulling survivors out of that four lane pile-up this morning, or those pictures I got of Mayor Halloran slipping on a cow pile during the 'Fair Rights for Farmers' rally, this afternoon?"
"Both!" the Daily Planet editor-in-chief gruffly demanded.
"Ah, they're in your office, Mr. White. I put the proofs on your desk about an hour ago," Jimmy sheepishly explained.
"Then why the hell wasn't I told?" Perry complained.
"I think you were in a meeting with Mr. Stern?" Jimmy supplied carefully.
"I have a newspaper to run," Perry grumbled to himself as he turned back towards his office. "But instead I get caught up in meetings and web enabled conference calls, and marketing strategies," he continued to complain.
Jimmy watched his editor retreat back into his office, still muttering and cursing the ills of corporate shenanigans in the newspaper business. Pulling a palm sized photo out of his jacket pocket Jimmy quickly made his way over to Lois Lane's desk, seating himself comfortably on the edge.
He couldn't help but grin as he gazed down at his mentor, friend and work colleague expectantly.
"What is it, Jimmy?"
Lois didn't even look up; too busy typing up her latest story, her eyes moving between her note pad, her keyboard and her computer monitor.
Leaning in a little closer he eagerly whispered, "I think I found you something."
Lois continued to type. "Uh huh," she barely acknowledged.
"I'm serious, Lois. I think I really got my mojo working for ya'."
"What have you got?" she asked disinterestedly, her fingers pausing from their work over her keyboard to turn to another page on her notebook.
Jimmy showed her a small photo. "Look at this!" he said excitedly.
Lois studied the image for a few moments before spearing Jimmy with a completely dismissive arch of her eyebrows.
Ignoring her sceptical expression Jimmy continued undeterred. "Remember I told you about my source; who works at the World Image Archives in Paris?"
"The guy you shared an apartment with a couple of years ago, who moved to France?"
"Yeah--yeah, Jamahl Christie," he confirmed.
"So, what about him?" Lois returned to typing her article.
"Well, this is--"
"Lane!" The door to the Editor-in-Chief's office opened on Perry's booming voice. "Where's that story on the Queensland Park strangler you promised me this morning?"
"It's coming, Chief," Lois responded to the call. "Give me thirty more minutes."
"You've got ten!"
"Oh, Chief, come on! It's another Lane and Kent exclusive."
"Fine, you've got fifteen—and that's all!" Perry stepped back into his office, but paused at the threshold to turn back and cast his experienced journalistic eye around the still busy newsroom.
"Where's Kent?" he demanded.
"Umm," Lois hesitated.
"Right here, Chief," Clark responded, striding in through the newsroom's massive double doors. "I went out for food. Lois was hungry," he explained, lifting his arms to show off the fast-food packages he was carrying.
"Ooh, Chili-dogs," Lois enthused.
"With onions and extra sauce," Clark added with a grin.
"Well, hey, hubby's learning," Lois boasted proudly, taking the offered bag from her mate and instantly tearing into it.
"And I have a Tuna salad on wholegrain with no mayo for you, Chief." Clark rounded his desk to hand the sandwich off to his dumbfounded looking boss.
"Jimmy," Clark said, tossing another bag to the photographer. "Cheese burger and fries, with extra pickles."
"Thanks, C.K."
"Buying me food doesn't mean you get a by on this story you two. I still expect to see it on my desk in thirty-minutes," Perry stated sternly.
Lois shared a look with Clark, both of them knowing full well that Perry White, the gruff, exacting and highly demanding Editor-in-Chief of one of the world's most prestigious news publications was giving them just that.
"Yes, Chief," Lois answered contritely around a bite of her food.
The news editor returned to his office, but not before an exasperated, "Will you people stop calling me Chief!"
Taking a seat at his desk Clark rolled his chair up to Lois' and reached into the bag he'd given her, removing a Chili hot-dog for himself. He bit into his food and wheeled his chair around, Jimmy instantly moving aside to let him in, as he began reading what Lois had typed up so far of their article.
"So, Lois, about that picture …" Jimmy reminded her.
"Sorry, Jimmy, we've got to get this story out," Lois explained before taking another bite of her hot-dog. "Rain check?"
Clark leaned in across Lois and her keyboard, half-eaten food in one hand and his free hand on the PC's wireless mouse. " 'Evidence found at several murder scenes in connection with the case, that had remained undisclosed by the Police Department until now, linked Arthur Robson, a City Transit Officer, with the murders,' " he read aloud. "Did Detective Sawyer really confirm we could use this?" he turned to his wife and asked.
"Well, it's true isn't it?"
"Lois, we don't want to blow the police's day in court by saying too much now, and Maggie will kill us, especially if we name her," Clark argued.
"Okay, so maybe Sawyer didn't exactly give me carte-blanche on the details, but it's not as if we're shooting in the dark here, we know the evidence is a lock."
"Lois," Clark growled in exasperation.
"Umm, sure" Jimmy responded to Lois' earlier suggestion before silently stepping away from the arguing couple. They weren't listening to him anymore anyway.
There were very few things that came between Lane and Kent when they were deep into a story, he knew. They'd argue back and forth until one of them relented, or a compromise of some kind was reached, not an easy task with someone as stubborn as Lois Lane, though if anyone could get her to compromise or re-evaluate a situation it was Clark.
Jimmy had headed up plenty of betting pools over the years, on whom, between the two, would win what argument; or get a coffee refill; or break office protocol to sneak a kiss.
His own personal favourite was: how many times would Clark need to leave the office or a work event in any given week to attend to some last minute emergency at home, or at his dentist, his dry-cleaning or the parking meter around the corner from the building, even though the couple had earned themselves a free parking spot in the basement of the Planet in the last year.
With his un-eaten burger still in its bag, Jimmy slowly made his way back to his own desk in the imaging suite a few floors below.
He solemnly looked down at the picture he still held in his hand. The image was blurry and grainy, featuring an indistinctive male Caucasian dressed in dark clothes, his right hand raised up and over his head, as if to protect him from the rain beating down in the picture.
If his friend in France was right, then Jimmy was staring at the only confirmed picture of the elusive and mysterious Russian Billionaire, "Satirev Tenralk."
Jimmy murmured the name aloud before secreting the picture back into his shirt pocket.
-8-
21:15 PM – 44 Hours and 15 minutes to Phase 3
Tess emerged from the basement of the LexCorp tower and exited the building. She decided that a few minutes taking in a little night-air before her limo rolled up to take her home was just what she needed.
Since leaving the Luthor mansion a day earlier she'd buried herself at the laboratories at LexCorp HQ and at a number other covert labs dotted around the State. She'd been cajoling, supervising and directing operations for this crucial next phase, determined that neither she nor her teams would be found lacking when the clock ran down to zero hour.
She heard the toot of a car horn and turned to see that her driver was pulling her limousine up to the building. She began descending the concrete steps from the building's plaza entrance when something across the street caught her attention.
Slowing completely as she reached the chauffer opened door of her ride Tess couldn't help staring.
Across the street she saw two figures emerge hand-in-hand from the Daily Planet building, the reporters Lois Lane and Clark Kent.
They looked like any couple would, out enjoying a walk in the city on a mild spring evening.
"Ms. Carmichael?" her driver prodded.
She ignored him, still staring in fascination at the easy manner the couple shared as they talked and joked.
The woman across the street must have felt her stare, for in another moment Lois had caught her eye, gazing back at Tess with a puzzled expression.
Tess immediately broke eye contact and slid into the back of her limo.
As her driver sped her back to her apartment--a LexLand owned penthouse with its view of the river and the city--Tess smiled grimly.
The alien and his slut would both get what was coming to them, she vowed silently.
… to be continued …
Author's note: Apologies for the delay in between chapters, real life (work, bills, dealing with personal crap etc) is no easy thing to deal with sometimes.
I have outlined the final "half" of the story, but I don't want to rush into posting anything before it's really ready. And that means there may be a long wait until chapter ten, so apologies in advance.
Please don't forget to leave feedback if you're enjoying the story, or just have a constructive criticism. I welcome it.