HOLDING OUT pt11

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 – Started this chapter too late in the day, odds are I'll only get part way done what I need to do and it won't get posted for a few. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I can squeeze something out …. Nope. I'm wrong. But enjoy!

September 27, 2013

2:40am

Metropolis Docks

If she could have moved, Martha would have been shaking her head in amazement. As it was, the rushes of air that brushed against her face succeeded in blowing the lustrous red hair out of her eyes, leaving the stunned expression of awe in place.

Near the center of the warehouse stood the petite auburn-haired woman who referred to herself as Knockout. All around her was a series of red blurs as Bart Allen tore up the pavement with his uncanny speed.

The wind picked up pace until the blurring became more than just a red flash circling the titanically powerful woman. Dust and grime were sucked up by the gale force currents Bart produced, abruptly engulfing Knockout in a compact and grimy funnel cloud.

Martha's body started shaking from the force of the wind. Loud creaking noises permeated the air as Bart's mini-tornado began shaking the building's structural integrity. The rafters that Martha's chains and restraints were connected to began to rock in time with the rest of the warehouse.

"Bart!" Martha screamed. "Bart you have to stop this!"

The updraft of Bart's funnel cloud reached the warehouse ceiling. Within moments the top structure began to buckle to crumple under the pneumatic pressure. Shards of wood and metal fragments became ripped from the ceiling, getting sucked into the maelstrom or being flung across the warehouse at impossible velocities.

"Bart!" Martha continued screaming, her voice getting swirled away in the rush of air. Her body writhing against her bonds and in the chaos.

The roof tore completely open, the twisting tornado of death rising into the night sky and attracting the attention of the overhead cloud cover.

From out of the windstorm hurtled a frail, feminine form. With an accompanying shriek of agony, Knockout's body was hurled across the length of the warehouse. The impact of her form with the heavy concrete wall on the far side created a massive soundwave. Already having difficulty dealing with the tornado, her body's impact caused half of the wall to collapse in upon itself, burying her frail body in rubble and dust.

As abruptly as it began, suddenly the funnel cloud dissipated. Martha's body continued to sway in the remaining breeze. The remaining airborne debris quickly found it's way back earthward, clattering there in an existential cacophony.

"Hang on, Mrs Kent." Martha sighed in relief a the sudden rush of blood to her tortured and swollen ankles. There was another swift red blurring, and suddenly she was on her feet with Bart rubbing feeling back into her wrists with his gloved hands. "Let's get you better before I zip you to safety."

Martha sighed heavily, and choked on the remaining dust floating in the air. "Do you think she's …"

"She'll be fine. Just out cold." Despite the gravity of the situation and the devastation around them, Bart chuckled. "Knockout, huh? Damn straight I knocked you out, girl!"

Martha's eyes were drawn to the pile of rubble over Bart's shoulder. Near the center of the pile, rocks and pebbles began rolling away from the peak.

"This is way more fun than stealing info from companies in Korea."

"Bart," Martha cautioned. "I think she's …"

Dirt, concrete dust and heavy head-sized rocks erupted into the air in a massive cloud. Recovering instantly, Bart scooped Martha up and sped her over behind a set of steel barrels that had yet to be knocked over.

From the center of the cloud came the sound of footsteps off concrete. A small feminine figure stalked forward from the wreckage.

"No way," Bart breathed. Martha's eyes were riveted on the woman before them.

With her chemise torn and dirty in place, and the stiletto heels discarded, Knockout run her fingers through her wildly disarrayed hair. The expression on her face was murderous, at best.

"I thought you wanted to dance, boy."

Martha grabbed Bart's arm before he could stand. "Don't do it. If she gets a hold of you she can rip you apart."

Hiding a suddenly fearful look behind a bravado-laden laugh, Bart prying Martha's hand from his bicep. "S'all good Mrs. K. I can handle her."

"Maybe you can. But we're in their territory here. Backup's probably on the way."

"I won't be needing backup. Come on Red, show the lady a good time!"

Bart's lips compressed in a thin line.

"Mrs. K. Someone's got to stop this lady. If she's the reason that InterGang's taken over Metropolis, then I've gotta do something. Now."

"You can come back. Bring Oliver and the team."

"They're buried deep in Korea. By the time they got here, these guys'll be ready for us."

Knockout laced her fingers together and folded them over. Her knuckles cracking drily in the cavernous warehouse.

"I'm ready for you now."

Bart stood to his full height and slowly stepped out from behind the barrels. Martha watched him go wide eyed, concern written in her expression.

Knockout smiled. Raising her hands, she motioned him forward.

To Martha's eyes, it was as if he suddenly vanished. With a high pitched whine as the air rushed out behind him, a red streak began peppering the diminutive woman on every side. The sounds of flesh smacking flesh filled the air for a few moments.

Bart's body would appear every few moments after landing a particularly good blow, rocking Knockout's head or body around.

Within moments, Knockout was down on her knees, holding her abdomen with one hand, the other braced against the floor. Her breathing came in ragged gasps.

Coming to a halt, Bart stood in front of her beaten form. Seeing her staying down, he allowed a triumphant smile to crease his lips, his fists unclenched from their white-knuckled grip.

Crouching down beside her fallen form, he placed a hand on her shaking shoulder. "Next time, if you're good, I'll teach you the fox trot."

Knockout levered her face up to meet Bart's gaze. Once their eyes were locked, a firm grip took hold of his left leg and squeezed.

The sound of Bart's leg being broken right above the ankle snapped wetly in the warehouse. Bart's cry of agony prompted an agonized scream from Martha's lips, her hands clutching at her stomach as if sick.

Trying to escape Knockout's grip, Bart hammered with both fists on the back of her head and neck. His cries of pain coming continually and wetly, gurgling in the back of his throat. His mask quickly became stained with tear tracks, as the pain coursed the fluid from his eyes.

In one smooth motion, Knockout hoisted Bart over her head by the ankle and the waistband of his suit. Treating him like a red-suited hay bale, she twirled once and hurled him bodily out the open gap in the ceiling. His body vanished from sight.

Martha was done screaming, but really wanted to when Knockout turned towards her. Her dark eyes smoldering with venom and rage.

The Metropolis Skies, a few minutes ago.

The wind stopped biting at her face and ripping at her clothes as Clark began his still rapid descent, the thick cape rippling behind them. Stealing a look down, she saw that they were hurtling in a surprisingly controlled fashion towards the Metropolis docks. Towards one warehouse in particular. The one that no longer had a roof.

"Clark," she had to shout to hear herself over the whistling wind. "That's one of the warehouse InterGang uses to smuggle goods into the city."

He nodded. Not slowing their descent a fraction. His eyes narrowed slightly on their destination.

"Can you see anything?"

He nodded. "Some woman and Bart are squaring off. Looks like Bart's got her though."

"So why are you frowning?"

"I just … That suit Bart's wearing is ridiculous."

Keeping her face as neutral as possible as they came in for a soft landing, outside the warehouse, Chloe pointedly ran her gaze up and down Clark's barely concealed physique..

Ignoring her gaze, he tugged his cape straight but had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.

Bart's screams of agony echoed out of the warehouse. Clark's face snapped to fully serious in a heartbeat.

"Clark, can you see what's …"

The back draft rush of air nearly knocked Chloe off her feet. When the dust settled, she cleared the hair out of her eyes. Off in the distance, she watched a tiny flying form swoop down and snag another tiny form an instant before it hit the water.

Whoa.

Another scream came from the warehouse.

"Mrs. Kent!"

Trotting quickly over to the warehouse opening, noting absently that the hinges appeared to have been torn off, Chloe reached into her tote bag for her pistol and rushed inside.

Mrs. Kent was sprawled out on the concrete floor next to broken pallets and crumpled steel barrels. Standing over her form was a frazzled looking woman, her auburn hair in disarray.

Armani pants? "Hold it honey!" She raised her pistol to eye level. "Stay away from the Senator."

The woman turned towards her, eyes widening in surprise. "Chloe Sullivan," she said in a surprisingly satisfied voice. "I knew you wouldn't leave the Senator to suffer."

She began to stalk forward menacingly.

Aw crap. "Stop or I'll shoot."

She opened her arms wide, still smiling. "Go ahead. I dare y…"

The sharp retorts from Chloe's high caliber pistol created painful echoes in the remaining walls of the warehouse. At this range, it was difficult to miss anything, even a woman as slight as the one before her.

Bullets impacted her torso, tearing into her chemise and ricocheting away. She smiled and kept on walking forward.

No way.

"You're her." Chloe lowered the empty pistol, the gun smoke wafting up in front of her eyes almost obscuring the view of her implacable approach. "I thought you were a myth, something my sources used to throw me off. But you're real." Chloe scrambled in her bag for a spare clip. "You're Knockout."

The woman slapped the empty pistol across the room negligently before grabbing the front of Chloe's coat and shirt. Effortlessly she held Chloe off the ground. Grabbing at her with both hands, Chloe frantically began kicking and flailing in her grip.

"Oh I'm real, honey." Knockout sneered, shaking the reporter by the collar and brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. "And you're going to learn just how real I can be."

"Ladies, please. No more fighting."

It's about time!

Knockout turned her body towards the healthy baritone voice, still holding Chloe up with one hand. Chloe followed her gaze with eyes wide in anticipation.

Floating in the air approximately fifteen meters away was Clark. Arms folded just beneath his chest so that the S-Emblem was prominent. His cape rustled faintly behind him and his blue-green eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light.

"It's you," Knockout whispered, her voice in awe. Her arm began to tremble, whether from fear or rage was impossible to tell. "After all these years …. I've finally found you."

Clark lowered his body to Earth and began to walk forward calmly. His gaze seemed to take in the whole room, flickering once over the fallen form of his mother. With every movement, every look he managed to radiate a sense of reassurance. Of peace.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage." How can he keep so level? "My memory is pretty good, so I think I'd know if we'd met before."

Knockout's arm trembled more fiercely, her free hand clenched and unclenched spasmodically. "I know it's you, Kal." Her voice was low, almost feral. "I know you're the man that killed Morgan Edge. That sent him into hiding."

"Morgan Edge died as a result of his own actions and lifestyle, ma'am. You're going to have to live with that."

"Just like I have to live with what the Luthors did to me? The chemicals? The testing?" Chloe's body was shaken like a rag doll. "I was turned into a freak, because of you! So I could find you. To kill you."

Clark paused in his approach, his eyes sympathetic. "I am very sorry that you went through that. I truly am." His eyes shifted focus to Chloe, then dropped back. "Now why don't you put Miss Sullivan down and we can work things out."

Can't breathe!

Knockout's grip began to tighten. "There's nothing to work out, Dr. Phil. Sullivan's going to die, and then you're next. You hear me? I'm going to …"

Air suddenly flooded into Chloe's lungs as she was dropped to the floor, where she collapsed onto her back. Knockout's high pitched scream of agony filled her ears, and the smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils. Rubbing at her throat, Chloe blinked away the tears of pain and saw Knockout holding her right hand pressed against her torso, as she scrambled back and away.

Clark stood in the exact same position, his eyes slowly losing their hazy red glow. The look of sadness on his face spoke volumes.

"Don't Clark." Chloe whispered, knowing that his ears would pick it up. "Don't give her a moment. She's a killer. She runs InterGang."

He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the sadness was gone. In its place was a steely determination. He stalked forward.

"That was your only warning, miss." Knockout glared daggers up his advancing form, flexing her burnt hand tenderly. "Don't make this harder than you have to on yourself. You've been through enough."

Her lips peeled back in a deathly grimace. "You have no idea."

She surged forward, rearing back with her good hand with a wordless cry of rage.

Clark stood there impassively. Refusing to move.

Move Clark!

Knockout's left hand hammered into Clark's face with every ounce of her strength. The impact created a small shockwave that ruffled Chloe's hair, and swirled Clark's cape. Clark's head rocked under the impact, turning his upper torso slightly around.

It also sounded like a million dry twigs snapping in unison.

Knockout dropped to her knees in front of Clark, holding both hands out in front of her. One blackened and still smoldering, the other mangled and lifeless. Tears rolled down her cheeks in silent agony, her lower lip quivering.

Holy …

Clark shook his head slightly and worked his jaw around on its hinges, fingering at his face lightly.

Chloe's eyebrows tried to rise up into her hairline.

"Are you … Cl …"

"I'm fine," he cut off quickly. Glancing back over his shoulder he shot her a small smile. "She hits harder than I expected is all."

Knockout turned her face up to him. "What … What are you?"

Clark smiled sadly. He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when Martha groaned across the room.

Chloe tried to scramble to her feet, but Clark gently grabbed her arm and helped her up. "Go see to her, please." His voice was hushed, for her ears only.

Chloe nodded. Her voice barely a whisper. "What are you going to do with her?"

He pursed his lips narrowly. "I don't know. I don't think there's a jail cell that can hold her."

"Ollie's got a place out near Star City. Whenever they've run into someone like her, they usually end up there."

Martha groaned again. Knockout whimpered in unison.

Clark looked towards his mother longingly, then turned his attention back to Chloe. "I've got to get back to Bart. He knows where this place is?" Chloe nodded. "Okay. You see to my mother. Call a cop you can trust, and stay with them until I get back."

As he turned away, Chloe gripped his arm desperately. Possessively.

He turned back to her silently.

Her lips quivered, trying to form a sentence. Just say it Sullivan!

"Are you … You're coming back. Right?"

Don't you dare cry!

He raised a hand to her cheek, pressing his fingers lightly against her face. Unconsciously she nuzzled her cheek into his palm.

"I'll come back."

Then with a pneumatic rush and a cloud of dust and debris, the two of them were gone.

"Clark?"

See to Mrs. Kent. Cry later.

END of pt10