HOLDING OUT pt10

Pairings - Not sure yet, Clark and Chloe most likely
Spoilers - It would help if you've ever Watched Smallville
Disclaimer - As much as I'd like to, I own nothing and will in no way make profit from this piece of fiction from the depths of my imagination.

NOTE – Ahhh … Weekends are the best time for me to get paid to write … While I'm working. Sadly, I doubt I'll ever get those manuscript Ideas in my head published by a company that'll make my mortgage and car payments seem more fun. (sigh) Sorry this chappie took so long folks. But I'm really doing the best I can for us all. I want to see where this fic ends up as well. Let's do it!

September 27, 2013

2:23am

Kent Farm

All was quiet. The air was still. The late September heat had turned typically chilly under the light of the three-quarter moon. Several lights were still on in the farmhouse, and new tire tracks were everywhere around the dirt and gravel driveway. Several fence posts were marked off with yellow "Do Not Cross – Crime Scene" police tape. More of the same decorated the porch and swing area near the front door.

Off at the end of the driveway sat a lone Smallville Sheriff Squad Car, keeping watch over the land.

Bored to tears, Deputy Barry Windham took hold of the shortwave radio. Stifling yet another yawn and running his fingers through his now sweat-greasy hair, he thumbed the transmit button.

"HQ this is Deputy Windham reporting in."

Static crackled softly for a moment.

"How you holding up, Barry?"

"I'm bored stiff, Terri." Yawning pause. "I mean, this place is dead quiet. Any action that happened here is long done."

"Well Sheriff Madison got his orders direct from the feds. We're to keep an eye and …"

"Prevent any pranksters from disturbing the crime scene. I know."

"Never seen the FBI take an interest in Smallville before."

Barry laughed. "Check the police records, doll. This town's had it's share of attention."

"I guess so. And this is a former Senator gone missing, so it makes sense."

"Uh huh." More yawning. "Godammit, Terri. I can barely stay up out here."

Brief pause.

"Bet I could keep you up."

Barry blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"You and I are the only ones on. Mike checked out almost half an hour ago."

Barry smiled softly. A dog quietly began to bark off in the distance.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Hmmm …. You want to know what I'm wearing?"

Barry began loosening the buttons at the top of his shirt. "Why not?"

"Well … Regulation uniform aside. Underneath all that I have a very soft pair of silk panties."

An abrupt breeze ruffled Barry's hair lightly, and stirred the police tape strung along the fence posts. The dog's barking became more insistent. "I like silk. What color are they?" Barry turned his gaze in the direction of the barking, a slightly irritated look on his face.

In front of the farm house were two figures, silhouetted by the light. A dog was trotting around and barking loudly.

"What color do you think they are?"

Barry's eyes widened in the darkness and he began fumbling for his pistol. Somehow the gunbelt had gotten tangled in with his seatbelt, and he had to scramble frantically.

"Barry? I asked what color do you think they are?"

Terri's voice shocked him out of his fumbling. Scrabbling for the transceiver, he pressed the activatior. "Terri I've got two people and a dog running around the farm now. I don't know how they got here but …"

"Excuse me, officer."

Barry jumped in his seat, dropping the CB transceiver and scrabbling desperately for his pistol again. Finally getting the gun in hand he whirled towards his open window and froze.

Standing several feet back from the car was an imposing man. Clad head to toe in tight fitting, primary colors. His long, heavy cape hanging off his broad shoulders and whisking just above the gravel road. The large S-Emblem on the man's chest radiated power. And strangely, comfort.

"Barry, are you kidding me?"

"Who … Who are …"

"I'm a friend, officer." With a steady and calm baritone, the man smiled slightly and gestured. "Please, put down the gun. I just need to ask you a question."

Hands suddenly trembling, Barry lowered the pistol. A look of horror and confusion all over his face.

"Dammit, Barry. As if your pathetic attempts at sex aren't bad enough. But now you're leaving me hanging over the radio!"

The man stepped forward again, then conspiratorially dropped to one knee next to the car, putting him and Barry eye to eye.

"I hate to interrupt your … conversation." The man looked slightly embarrassed and slightly amused at the same time. "But I'm hoping you can tell me what happened here today."

"So he didn't know anything?"

"Nothing useful. Some guys in Cadillac's drove up here. Killed a bunch of farm hands, and took off after Mom."

Chloe shook her head in frustration. "Now what?"

"Apparently they found my old truck rolled over a few miles away on the road to Granville."

"So you want to check it out?"

Clark nodded, and motioned for Shelby to go into the farmhouse. The dog wagged her tail excitedly and trotted away.

Despite everything, Chloe smiled. "She had an exciting day."

"Probably going to curl up in Dad's old chair." He smiled wistfully, scanning his eyes around the farm. He breathed in deeply, seeming to savor the air. The familiar aromas. Finally he released the breath in a sad sigh. "He hated it when she did that."

Chloe smiled up at Clark sadly and gripped at one of his arms. This suit is crazy soft. "Clark. We have to go."

"I know. Barry's on the horn right now, trying to convince his playmate to send out reinforcements."

Slipping his arm comfortably around her waist, Clark pulled her in close. Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling her pulse begin to race with excitement. Their first flight seemed to last for both an eternity and for no time at all. "You ever think about competing with TransContinental Airlines?"

Releasing the Earth's grip on their feet, Clark took himself and Chloe into the sky. His cape rustling silently behind them. "I don't know. Do you think I could get a business account to take credit card payments?"

"If not, you could still do a brisk cash only thing. I can think of one person for sure who'd recommend Flying the Friendly Skies in the arms of a super man."

Metropolis, on the docks

2:31am

"I tried to keep this from happening, Senator Kent. I really did."

Her back arched painfully with his tied over her head, and feet trussed up as well, elevated and behind her, Martha hung from the rafters in the warehouse. Her wet and frigid clothes could have caused shivers had she been able to feel anything beyond the pain of stretched-too-far muscles and joints.

"Wh – Where's …"

"Oh your friend is in the next room. John and the others wanted to get to know him better." The woman paused in her pacing. The light from the center of the room illuminating the sharp yet beautiful features on her face in an exotic and frightening way. "Quite a remarkable young man."

"I could say the same … about you."

She smiled. "We could say the same about your son as well, Senator Kent."

My God.

"What … What do you mean?"

"I think you know, Senator Kent."

Martha froze, all the remaining color draining from her face. "Have you done something to my son?"

"No," she admitted reluctantly. Then, lacing her fingers, she raised her arms over her head and stretched luxuriously. Auburn colored hair refracting in the lamp light. "But I'd like to."

With a strangled cry, Martha threw all caution to the wind. Writhing and straining, she twisted her body in every direction. Straining against her nylon and steel chain bonds that held her suspended.

Within moments, her exhausted body went still.

The woman looked impressed. "Please be careful, Senator Kent. You're much too valuable for us to lose. Especially like this."

Martha licked at her lips. Her mouth dry.

"What do you want with my son?"

The woman blinked her dark eyes in surprise. "Nothing." Off Martha's blank stare, she rubbed at her arms in thought. "I have no idea where Clark Kent is. I'm currently interested in finding and silencing Chloe Sullivan. Her articles are bringing too much attention to my city."

"Your … You're the head of InterGang?"

"Hardly. I leave that to arrogant, fat men who like feeling powerful." Taking two steps to her left, She picked up one of the nearby steel barrels. Gracefully, she balanced it in front of her on the palm of one hand. "I know I'm powerful. And those men need me to keep my city running smoothly."

Silence reigned for a few moments.

"Who are you?"

The woman froze, closing her grip on the barrels' rim. A soft grinding sound accompanied the crumpling. "Does it matter?"

Martha kept trying. "Do you have a name?"

Slamming the barrel down created a significant echo in the massive warehouse. The impact kicked up duct, and crushed the steel container like an aluminum can. "My mother named me Kay." Leaving the barrel behind her, stiletto heels rang noisily in the echo-filled room as she staked towards Martha. Stopping directly in front of her suspended form she showed true impatience for the first time. "But when I started working for Morgan Edge. He used to call me Knockout."

"I really want to rip this kid's face off."

"Settle down, John. You know what the boss said. She wants …"

"Shut the hell up Shawn. I am so sick of your constant you heard what the boss said crap." Leveling a finger at Shawn, John took a few menacing steps forward. The bruise spreading across his unshaven cheeks getting darker by the minute. "You might be scared to death of Knockout, but you know she needs us to do her dirty work. After she's done being a superhuman freak, all she knows how to do is sleep her way through the upper bosses. So don't get in my face …"

Shawn batted John's finger out of his face and got nose to nose with him. "Listen good you little bastard." Leveling his own finger, he pointed at the read clad man tied to a chair beside them. "Knockout wants us to watch this guy and make sure he doesn't wake up until she's ready to talk to him. And considering how badly he kicked our asses not half an hour ago, I tend to agree with her."

"Don't get in my face Shawn."

"Why not? You can't tell me what to do."

"If I think this freak's leaving this room without my knife in his throat you're out of your damned mind."

"And if you think I'm going to let that bitch turn my face into pudding because you're on a homicidal kick you can …"

"Boys."

Both men froze, turning to the man seated beside them.

The Flash raised now untied hands in front of his face, holding a pair shattered handcuffs before him. His eyes were narrowed dangerously.

"No fighting."

"Morgan Edge is dead."

"Really? I never noticed." Knockout's face tightened dangerously. "Ever since your boy 'Kal" spent his summer in Metropolis, everything in my life has been screwed up."

Martha's eyes widened in realization. "Morgan sent you after Clark."

"And then Morgan died. At the hands of a Luthor." Her hand lashed out, gripping Martha's jaw painfully, her mandibles creaking. "When the Luthors took over Edge's operations, I resisted. But the opportunity to get back at your son was too good to pass up."

A shrill whistle pieced the air.

Releasing Martha, Knockout turned. Martha looked up, hope in her eyes.

"I hope you like music, babe" Bart declared, His back straight and shoulder squared. "Because I feel like dancing."

11,000 feet above Kansas HWY 13

2:43am

This is never going to get old.

"What do you think we'll find in Metropolis?"

Clark said nothing for a moment as he scanned the ground below them fervently. "Hopefully more than we found at the crash site. Aside from needing a new paint job, my old truck had nothing to offer."

"So what are we doing?"

"Following the tire tracks of the car that sped away from the crash site."

Chloe blinked. Looking down from this height, her hair whipping in her face. "Clark, how can you even see the road from up here? How can you see the tracks? It's a concrete road?"

He smiled mysteriously. "I can see just fine. And even on concrete, the ires leave the occasional sign. Trust me. We're going the right way."

Chloe frowned. "I just hope that there's something for us to find when we …" Chloe cut off as Clark suddenly cocked his head, raising his gaze fervently towards the skyscraper laden city. "What is it?"

"Crashing. Sounds of screaming."

"I hate to say it Clark, there's a lot of that happening in Metropolis these days."

"One of the screams came from Mom."

Chloe's eyes widened. Their pace suddenly began to increase, the rush of air becoming more biting against her face.

Clark turned her head, forcing her face into his shoulder and wrapped his arm more tightly around her frail body. "Hang on Chlo'. I need to pick up the pace."

The back trail of air caused a swirling effect, dragging nearby clouds behind him in their wake. A muffled boom rocked the air as Clark broke the sound barrier.

END of Pt10