Lex Luthor in Action FanFic 5

The Opposition

This is my city. The commerce that runs through it comes back to me. The cars, jets, buses are assembled with parts from my company. It makes computers, it makes clothing, it has computers for business and homes, super computers for scientific and military purposes. If you can think of it, my company does it. Sure, it could've been said just as simply as that. After all, my time is money and my words are precious. I just want you to bask in the scope of my wealth and power. For what is a man in my position, if he is not as feared as he is respected. And you SHOULD fear me.

My name is Alexander Luthor. The city at large knows I go by Lex, but you will know me as Mr. Luthor. I grew up in wealth thanks to the genius of my father. He started in agriculture, making sure that people had grain for their livestock, seed to plant. When he became successful he bought the farms and ranches, sold to markets and made Luthor a name to be respected. With that money he branched out into new equipment to make it more successful. Making sure from organic weakness that technology would keep up with the job. Soon he was able to make more money by getting rid of most the 'hired help' and allowed the machines to do the work. All the human assistance that was required was to run those machines. The work of twenty men reduced to one. That's progress, and our name was synonymous with it.

When I was 8 years old I designed my first fully functional fighter jet. As you can tell, genius runs in our family. This jet was built with an android already installed within the cockpit. It would save countless lives of our troops, but kill several of the enemy. Eventually, with the right amount of learning from skilled pilots, it would conceivably be able to fight without the need of even having to be controlled remotely. A helpful tool during the gulf war incursion, which wasn't that far from the point I'd drawn these plans. The technical aspects were so far beyond the private tutor that my father hired to teach me, she actually called him to try and implore me to stop this foolishness. My imagination shouldn't be as violent as this, I was only a child after all. My father scolded me in front of her for coming up with something capable of so much death. In private he beat me senseless for showing the clod of a teacher something too advanced for her mind or morals to accept. As punishment he sold the design to the military with a contract stating for every plane built he would get a 4 million dollar check, with a payment up from of 15 million for the design. They've tried to follow my plans to the letter, only to find out that I didn't finish certain parts. Without my direct involvement the millions father would have made came to just the meager settlement of the initial contract. As to the military, they bought the plans instead of leasing them out for my father's budding business to construct. They were the ones who took a proverbial bath on the deal. Fools, one and all. Their scientists should've known, but I should've guessed that the real geniuses behind the scenes of the military wouldn't understand the scope of my project. The idea of Terminator intrigued me, I suppose the nanny should've been more careful to make sure I was asleep before she started her film.

This morning's newspaper didn't read quite the way I had expected it to. It was supposed to talk about the horrible crash of the LexCorp Space Jet project coming to sabotage. The horror of the LexCorp Towers coming crashing down around the ears of the working class. Oh yes, the waste of life. I couldn't be that evil could I? No, I'm not that evil! I'm just a good business man. This jet was a revolutionary technology, and NASA still sees it that way. Before long they'll identify that someone tampered with the Space Jet to cause it to crash within; LexCorp haters. A group that thinks this company isn't ethical. That's where they're wrong, I just follow a different ethic.

No, this morning's issue of the Daily Planet says 'My Night with Superman!'It speaks of a man from the stars that came here to be the savior of humanity. The fight with all those criminals and a being that they've dubbed "the Parasite", and he claims that he's not doing it for the glory. If I hadn't set up most of this myself, I'd say he did. He's supposedly altruistic, all he wants is to make the world safe. And yet with these God-like powers he still humbly stays out of the real world conflict. A chink in the armor perhaps? And as I further scan down the page it says that if he's choosing to make Metropolis his home that he'll be its new favorite son in no time. I don't think so. My image is clean to most of Metropolis. I make it run and I always will. These people all work for me in one form or another, so in the end I'm their favorite son, because I own them! Sooner than he thinks, I'll own this so called Man of Tomorrow too. This will be fun to test his altruism.

After cutting out what I need from the paper, the rest goes in the trash. I'm keeping the info on our new friend. It may yet benefit me. The question is, how old is he? How long has he truly been here? Lois Lane would have gotten to these questions if only he had stayed. I know that woman well enough to know that. Once I get the necessary data I'll find out where that blasted ship of his is. I want to know! First things first though, today's business. We must talk about the blunders of yesterday and why now my name isn't plastered all over the news. Even my own news station is reporting on this alien!

The elevator has 88 buttons showing for the various floors the public and workers are allowed to go, that is until you have the key to access the further floors. The other 20 going up to my penthouse and the 10 past the sub-basement. That's where my "special" employees go, and I need to talk to a certain special employee that's failed me. He's in luck that there was a contingency plan in case of failure. Still, I don't pay for losing. Hell will need to be paid for this, it's the only way these people learn.

After the 20 minute trip the doors open and standing there ever dutifully is the failure. Best to dispense with the pleasantries. "There's a problem."

"I know things didn't go to plan. I wasn't expecting this new element."

"No one can anticipate this new element. However, you told me that there were contingencies for these matters. I saw no contingency."

"It might've been beneficial Mr. Luthor, if the weaponry that we were supplied with hadn't been leaked to other non-personnel."

"That cannot be helped. And besides, you were aware when the police were called. They were dealing with that bank robbery. If you had coordinated your assault of S.T.A.R. at that point, the police and this Superman would have been otherwise occupied. You chose poorly. This puts your life at risk."

"Your father has me on retainer, Luthor. I'm going nowhere. You were the one supposedly set up to take out the building. If you'd have succeeded in doing so this wouldn't have been a problem. Remember, you're the one with the contingency plans. All of my plans were hinged on your machinations come to fruition."

"My father may have you on retainer Braverman, but that won't keep you safe forever. He's getting older and my reign is just beginning. I own this company, and you're just his private bodyguard. Your black ops training isn't going to save you from my wrath. Remember, I have a personal guard too and she is old enough to show you a trick or two."

"Noted. In any case, the mission wasn't a total loss. We were able to verify that they're moving the mineral to another S.T.A.R. location."

"Then I take it you will personally retrieve it?"

"Yes. It's obvious if Superman shows up again, he'll have to be deterred from any further complications."

"You surprise me, Kenny. I didn't think you would betray my father, especially after all he's done for you. Still, for the right price I suppose you'd betray anyone, eh?"

"Who says he did?" I turn to face the voice. My father smiles in an almost evil fashion. He looks like the main villain out of an old silent movie. "Do you think that he would do anything without my express knowledge?"

"Loyalist. Why Conduit, I thought you were in black ops? Still you look to a fatherly figure for approval. You might have power enough to defeat this new marvel that has come from the stars, and yet you are still so weak. It's almost pathetic."

Kenny Braverman comes from the Kansas town of Smallville. My father's business dealings kept him out there quite a bit, and he got to know some of the hands that worked for him. I wouldn't say that he became friends with his workers, but he did acquaint himself well. One in particular was Kenny's father, Matthew. He was a hard laborer and rather deadbeat father. Yet on the last count, I don't know necessarily that I would blame him. The mother died in childbirth on the back roads of the farmland while above a meteor flew overhead. It was the dead of winter so no one could go investigate. Worse still was the fact that the man sounded like a crazed lunatic when trying to explain to police and the doctors what had happened. The story was consistent, but no trace of any meteor was found due to the heavy snowfalls that year. There wasn't a visible sign anything touched down and so most people claimed the Matthew Braverman lost his mind while watching his wife die on a gravel road 20 miles from the nearest doctor.

After that Kenny grew up rather a sickly child. There was something wrong with him and his father spent more money than his meager job could afford trying to find out what was wrong with him. By the time Kenny was 10 they were struggling to keep the house and had sold everything else of any value. Mr. Braverman took out a lot of this on the poorly child. "Damn kid! You kill your mother and cost us everything! When you're in school you're always second best! Why don't you just die and leave me in peace? I don't want to be surrounded by failures, and second best is always failing!"

Finally it became too much of a burden on him, he was about to sign the home away for a cozy shack when Matthew's pride broke. He went to my father when he came to town to help him with the cost of his son's treatments. What great strides it took for him to go up to Lionel Luthor, a man with a reputation for firing people in his presence that dared to pollute his air with their whining and sniveling. Yet he gave credence to this man as he listened to the story. Matthew sounded quite the hero, considering the amount of abuse. Of course my father was intrigued and wanted to see the test results on the boy. He was a scientist himself after all. More to the point, when he rambled again about meteors causing all these problems my father's interest piqued. Did you truly think a sob story was going to interest him? This man knew how to work a menial position, if he wanted to help his son there was a plethora of ways he could've struck it rich. A small business loan would've given him enough to start creating better machines to plow. The man had ideas, he just needed to talk to the right people. There's a magnitude of those just waiting to be found. No, he chose to live this paltry existence and never attempt greatness. I would've let him hang. However, the meteor did interest me too.

Tests were run, scientist were bought to check over Kenny's condition. It kept father coming back and forth from Metropolis to Kansas with this child and father in tow. The scientists would give my father the technical analysis of Kenny's situation to which he would tell Matthew a tissue of lies. Kenny's condition still escapes me. The gist of the story turns out that somehow, from the night of his birth he was given what should've been a lethal dose of radiation. A newborn beat the odds by these few new cells introduced into his body. My father never informed me of what these new cells were or what this child was starting to metamorphosis into. Incredibly, it's caused him to grow cables from his body. This was explained as some sort of measure to deal with the advancing irradiated cells growing in power. It cause him to emit blasts of energies from his hands and grow cables from his arms that could be used nearly like tentacles. Quite impressive to say the least. However, I still strive to unlock my father's secrets. He guards them well.

One day, father went to the Braverman home and found the maniac beating his teen son. Apparently he had lost a track meet to a boy that always seemed to be one step ahead, no matter the challenge. Matthew found it a rewarding experience for himself to toughen his son up, make him take number one no matter what. I laugh at that every time I hear it. What he strived for in his son, is the same thing that he could never attain. Damn those that try and live through their children, eh? Still, Kenny had enough of it and the first signs of his real power flared up. At the age of 14 Kenny fired blast of energy that incinerated his father to cinders. I doubt they would've found a decent DNA sample left to identify what was laying int he mid of the house. Father took care of it though. He set the house on fire, ripped his shirt and coat to tatters, and smeared ash on him and the boy. Luckily Kenny was already bleeding. He called the police and told them that the property was ablaze. It was determined with a few dollars from father's pocket that Matthew Braverman was trying to kill his son. The man was obviously was in financial difficulties and blamed Kenny for it, as he did for the death of his wife. They've been looking for this man ever since, but the state found it best to make this boy a ward of the state. Lionel Luthor decided to make Kenny his ward instead. I'd be interested to know how much he spent on that endeavor or if the hayseeds were too stupid to look at the big picture.

Kenny, being no genius himself, was given the schooling and attention he needed in the privacy of a secure facility. This facility being LexCorp Tower 1, this is where my father's penthouse is located. Under father's wing, the little bastard was offered the same luxuries I was. He chose more or less to devote days on end to study of either the mind or the body. He learned countless styles of fighting, how to construct and use weaponry, and learned the social issues of our country and countless foreign nations. Most of which we either were in trade with or were posed by this country as enemies. He would've made a good soldier, had it not been for the one father figure that actually showed him the only kindness he ever knew. The sad truth is, the one that always bested him tried to offer his parents as a solution. Of course Kenny would have nothing to do with that. Second best everywhere else, it must mean that he'd be second best to them as well. Still, Kenny grew up very quickly and to his credit, very intelligent. However, he also grew up the way my father was hoping for. He is very aggressive and loyal to my father like a Rottwieiler to its master.

After a time, and much of my father's help, Kenny joined the intelligence community. He seemed quite adept at doing their "secretive" work. His tasks were usually things that would get a person disavowed should they be caught. They trained him to be a killing machine and information collector. Eventually the CIA wanted to cut ties with young Mr. Braverman. It seemed as if they were afraid someone would catch on the dangerous sort of man he was. He voluntarily left and started his own black ops team, doing jobs that no government would allow. This lead him back to my father's side.

When I turned 17 I had amassed enough designs together to make a fortune. At this point in my life, father had barely spoken to me in nearly 4 years. It could be counted on one had the amount of actual conversations he and I had. It was high time to make my mark in the world. To that end, I started LexCorp. It was a rival to my father's own business, at least where technology was concerned. Once I had the capital I started to build the designs in my catalogue and sell directly to companies and the military. In 2 short years I was able to perform a hostile takeover of LuthorCorp. Of course my father was proud to see his son do so well and learn to be so devious. I wanted to kill him so that his influence could no longer effect my plans. But the insect knew when the pesticide was going to strike. He told me that there were things he would show me if I'd subside my want for his head on a pike. Reluctantly, I agreed. Besides, a scapegoat is always a good thing to have. Sydney Happerson for example, one of my chief scientists and lackey. He grovels at my feet and I treat him well. But one day something will happen and it will cost him dearly. He's understands that it's not personal, it's business. That's all the reason I'll ever need to do anything. Eventually it'll be the reason for dearest father's demise. Why not? It was the reason my mother died! It was better to see the business through then to have her teach me morals that she didn't see in my father. If she'd only been that much smarter, she'd have seen it coming. And if for no other reason to keep my father here is to let him unfold his schemes then take them with his death. Until then I stick with the adage to keep my friends close and my enemies closer. As I have no friends, it makes it a lot easier to focus on the enemies.

I walk slowly towards the computers and start to look at the news buzzing around the internet. More Superman nonsense, there are other things going on in the world. Give me oil prices, stock reports, and the value of the yen and euro over the dollar. "Have nothing to say to me Braverman? Hardly living up to your surname are you?"

"Don't push me Lex. I've done my bit for you, and the money's nowhere near as good as your dads! You've paid to get the job done and I'll do it when ordered."

"Really, and what does it cost for competence?"

"Don't worry about Lex, Kenny. He's just a bit out of sorts, it comes with his own complex issues of failure. Such as his plans not coming to fruition because of his own ignorance."

"An attempt to lower my self-esteem? Surely we're past that now!"

"Are we? It seems as if the powerful billionaire Lex Luthor needs to have his ego stroked. I've seen the LexMarts go up, the Lexbucks. Lex this and Lex that. You even changed the company name from LuthorCorp. So in those terms, I don't think we are as past it as you'd want me to try and believe."

"Watch your tongue, relic. You don't have as much pull with me as you once did, especially when the information you've promised has been scarce. I'm slowly coming to the determination to just let you rot in Hell and find other means to unlock these little mysteries you seem bent to hide from me."

"Empty threats, Lex. Do you think anyone knows my secrets but me? Conduit here is the only one that knows truly what it is that's going on. And he's been instructed to keep his mask on in front of you so that you can't tell when he's lying."

I see my reflection in the plated mask over Kenny's face. The gold cable trim and the main piece that almost looks hematite in its appearance. He won't let me look into the eyes of his little action figure. That's fine, I don't need him to figure out what father's hiding. I can do that on my own. Father should know better than to underestimate me. Besides, the poor boy is being fed lines. He's the only one my father has entrusted his secrets to. If he believes that, than he's a bigger fool than I thought. "What are you looking at?"

"A creature that would be best used as satellite equipment than a bodyguard." I sneer at the thing. Even without the mask I can tell he's grimacing at me. He wants to kill me where I stand for daring to call him anything but a man. His father did that to him. Then the elevator rings and out steps a 5' 10" blonde that has a figure of a Grecian Goddess. She is dressed in a suit and her hair pulled back tightly. She takes off her sunglasses and looks at me with a wanting smile. She adores me, loves me like she believes I love her. I admire her loyalty to me. "Ah, Mercy. I see you've completed your task?"

"Indeed Mr. Luthor. It didn't take much persuading to get the mineral you required."

"You had her pick it up?"

"Not the same one, but yes, I had to entrust this mission to someone that I knew would succeed. There was a recent dig in Adis Ababa, Ethiopia. It was passed along the science community as a miracle. From the photos and data, it wasn't hard to extrapolate that it was the same substance as the tumors that came from our own Conduit. It's just a larger sample."

"So now you finally have scraped enough to build your own alternate power source."

"As you say. It's enough to start powering things that otherwise need to be recharged. The stone shows amazing properties! I estimate that the new line of laser weaponry we are creating could effectively run on the same stone for at least 15 years. This could give the U.S. Military the advantage to win this war! Possibly even give us the full control over the other nation's oil. Of course LexOil Refineries will be more than happy to their share as we are one of the few companies rich enough to acquire it."

"A bold plan, son. It deserves to work! All the same, come and tell me of your failure when it happens. Won't you?"

I scowl and walk towards the elevator. "Come Mercy, we have other matters to attend to."

"Such as?" My father raises his eyes in some sort of anticipation of my answer. I see no need to lie to him on the matter. I know he will find out anyway and more's the pity to him.

"I'm going to buy our newest import to the city."

"You're going to buy the alien? I'm intrigued!"

"Your intrigue underwhelms me. He's a commodity like any others. He'd serve a useful purpose to intimidate those that dare cross me."

"Do you have the price worked out then?"

"Everyone has a price, unless he truly is that altruistic. In which case, he'll be used in making my reputation further as a humanitarian."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. If he's not to be bought, the he's an alien threat. He's here for one purpose, to scout for invasion. We obviously only have his word for the destruction of his planet. Even if it is true that it was, it's still only his word that he's the lone survivor."

"You know, it's a shame you passed on actually becoming a lawyer. You'd make an excellent prosecutor."

"Law is made for those who don't have the means to circumvent it. Laws are made by those such as we, the ruling class, to see if man can evolve past the mediocrity of his existence. I neither need or wish to spend my time amongst the rabble unless it's absolutely necessary. In those few instances, they come to me."

"I see. Almost akin to climbing Mt. Olympus so that one may try and petition the Gods."

"Something of a modern world equivalent, yes."

"Then go Lex, make this alien your toy."

"I intend to." Mercy and I walked into the elevator and we took off towards my penthouse. She stood flanking my right shoulder. I smiled as I looked back at my assistant, she raised her eyebrow at me and gave a coy smile herself.

"What do you have in mind, Lex?"

"Ah Mercy, as ever you read my mind. Things with this new hero might get a bit tricky. The thought of him not being bought for instance. If such turns out to be the case, then an opportunity arises that I cannot pass up. Not only can I paste a smear campaign on him, but perhaps even pit him against Conduit. My murdering him is a problem at best, even if I'm not implicated. However, if it's done then I've got this alien that's now brought down the wrath of two new and powerful beings into play and a 'leak' that makes my father responsible for this newest one's creation."

"You would implicate Lionel for that?"

"Of course I would. The boy's father was murdered by a freak, which is why the body was never found. He had it planned the whole time, so he could take advantage of a delusional man's fantasy of a meteor that irradiated his son. Then genetically experimented on the boy to his own ends, namely creating a super-soldier for the express purpose of selling him to the highest bidder."

"And he sent out this new super-solider to test his strength on an opponent of uncalculated power. "

"Precisely." We walked out into my office and I walked over to the paper sitting on my desk. The alien looking so pleased with himself. The penknife of my desk finds its way into the heart of this Superman.

"Let us hope that Superman takes my offer, otherwise his genetic material will serve me just as nicely. I do so like things that obey me." I pour myself a small scotch and raise my glass, "A toast to you Lionel Luthor, I am my father's son."