Chapter 5
'So, you're saying he might know Clark's identity? And he has Kryptonite?' Sam hissed, clearly angry that his daughter hadn't come to him about this sooner.
He didn't know which of them was more stubborn when it came to asking for help.
'Clark thought he'd destroyed the AI that scanned him … but maybe there was a back-up or this John Irons guy was able to restore it somehow? I don't know! Dammit, I knew I never should have agreed to Clark's plan,' Lois exclaimed loudly, obviously regretting not having taken the threat seriously enough. 'All I know is that my husband and two teenage sons are not answering my calls and some maniac from another universe who has been trying to kill Superman is at the same time unaccounted for... and that just seems a tad suspicious, don't you think?'
Sam softened a bit at his daughter's outburst.
'Hey, honey, it's okay,' he reassured her, 'We don't know what's happened yet, but whatever is going on, we will find them.'
'How?' she asked, 'Rosetti already tried tracking their phones but something's blocking their signals.'
'I… have another way…' he told her, with a hint of reluctance.
He lifted his radio from his belt and spoke into it commandingly.
'Rosetti,' he instructed, 'Pull up the location of tracking device 45792.'
'What are you…?' Lois began, but Sam put a finger to his mouth and gave her his best 'I'll tell you in a second' look.
'On it, Sir, we'll have a location for you shortly,' Rosetti responded.
Lois eyed her father suspiciously.
'Dad, what exactly are we tracking?' she asked.
'Superman,' he admitted, seeing no point in trying to sugar coat it, 'I planted a nanotech tracking device on his suit. About a year ago.'
At the shocked and disapproving look on Lois' face, he continued in his defence.
'I run the department of defence, Lois. It's my job to be one step ahead of any possible threat at all times. Keeping track of Superman's whereabouts is a tactical advantage,' he explained.
Lois raised her eyebrow in response.
'You think pissing off Superman is a tactical advantage?' she questioned, pointing out the flaw in her father's logic.
Despite her admonition, he could see that his daughter was struggling to stay angry about that right now. As upset as they both knew Clark would be when he found out he'd been tracking him without his permission, she was clearly relieved they had a way to find out where he was.
'He's at the abandoned Luthorcorp factory, Sir. The one behind the mines,' Rosetti reported back.
'Get me satellite footage of the building, I want to know how many heat signatures we have in there,' he ordered.
Rosetti confirmed and the line went silent again.
He heard his daughter's breath catch in her throat and he could see her anxiety triple at the mention of the Luthorcorp building. Whatever connection John Henry Irons had to the Luthors, Superman's location being one of his properties was unlikely to be a coincidence.
It looked like Superman had gone to meet him after all, without waiting for back up. But why would Clark go solo like that, with everything he knew.
'I've got 4 signatures, Sir. Two out in the open on the factory floor and two in some kind of motor home parked inside. Looks like they could be hostages,' Rosetti reported back.
Sam watched his daughter's expression turn to panic at the mention of the two unknown heat signatures. Could that be his grandsons? It would certainly explain why Clark would do something so irrational.
'Mobilise a team. Full arms,' Sam commanded, not wanting to hesitate if there was any chance they were right. 'We're going in. This is a rescue mission soldiers. Extracting our asset and any civilians on site is the priority here… And Rosetti, make sure there's medical assistance standing by.'
Sam watched his daughter fight to stay calm as he finished his orders. He indicated for her to follow him out of the building, and they moved quickly towards the helicopter pad to the left of the entrance.
Soldiers dashed back and forth around them, grabbing weapons and supplies. Numerous bodies spilled out of the building, climbing into vehicles and heading off in the direction of the Smallville mines.
Lois climbed into the waiting helicopter, pulling on a pair of protective ear coverings, and Sam jumped on board, directing the pilot to get them into the air immediately.
'I'm coming Clark,' he heard her whisper as they watched the DOD building shrink beneath them.
The first crushing blow of the hammer nearly knocked Clark's jaw clean out of its socket.
The force of it sent him flying up into the air, his body spinning several times before crashing to the ground painfully on his back. He scrunched up his face, writhing in agony as his body tried to recover from the sudden assault.
As if that wasn't enough, the unpleasantly familiar waves of radiation from the chunk of kryptonite caused his blood to boil and his muscles to spasm. With each painful contraction, he gritted his teeth and grunted in protest. The agonising sensations threatened to take over his system.
'That looked like it hurt,' Marcus commented, seemingly enjoying his chance for some kind of warped vengeance.
Clark knew he had to move, had to fight back somehow... but even without the kryptonite's constant torment, the red solar flares were making his usual quick recovery impossible. He managed to roll over to his front and pull himself up onto all fours, breathing heavily from the effort.
He heard movement next to him and looked up just in time to see the head of the hammer coming back towards him furiously. It hit him square on in the face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch and sending him firmly back down to the ground.
His hands went up to his face instinctively, gently feeling the extent of the damage. His face felt swollen in places and there was a deep cut above his eyebrow. Clark blinked at his blood covered hands as he pulled them away, feeling his mind going into shock.
The attack was so unexpectedly fast & vicious, he could barely process what was happening.
His ears were ringing and his vision spun so violently he was afraid he might throw up.
'This hammer harnesses kinetic energy,' he heard Marcus' voice through the ringing. 'The further it travels, the more energy it creates.' As he spoke, he began walking away from his target.
Clark struggled to make sense of the man's words. His mind felt so clouded from the sudden severe blow to his head. The taste of metal filled his mouth and he realised with shock that some of his teeth had come loose.
He spat them out as he coughed up a pool of blood.
'From 20 feet, it can stop a car in its tracks,' Marcus continued as he strolled further away. '30, a truck. From 60, it can destroy a tank.'
Clark grunted from the effort as he tried to get his body to respond, searching inside of him for any hidden pockets of strength. He had to find some way to beat this man. His sons were here somewhere, he needed to get them away from him.
He clenched his fists and tried to push himself up with his arms, wincing from the strain. As the kryptonite moved further out of reach, he finally found the strength to rise to a wobbly standing position.
'Anything beyond that rivals a blow from Superman,' Marcus finished, before launching the hammer back towards it's intended target.
Clark saw the hammer coming, but his reaction time was simply too slow to respond in his hazy condition. The incoming weapon slammed straight into his chest, knocking him clean off his feet and into the wall of a crate a few meters behind him. The crate's metal bent and caved in where his body hit it.
He felt his ribcage crack in several places and let out an agonizing scream.
All the air was knocked out from his lungs and his heart seized up for a torturous moment before returning to an uneven frantic pulse. The kryptonite hammer clanked heavily to the ground beside him as his body slumped forwards. He managed to turn slightly as it did so that he landed on his side rather than his chest.
Clark wheezed painfully from his position on the factory floor, trying desperately to pull air back into his lungs, but the simple task was met with unbearable jolts of sharp fiery pain as the broken bones shifted agonisingly against the smallest movement.
He struggled to manage his growing feelings of panic as Marcus held out his gloved hand and the hammer flew back into his possession.
The man was clearly nowhere near done with him.
'Jordan please, you have to wake up,' Jordan heard his brother repeating frantically as he drifted slowly into consciousness.
He felt a sudden hard slap to his face, and his eyes flickered open, an annoyed frown appearing on his face.
'Jon? What…?' he asked, in a hazy confusion.
'Jordan! The guy who took us, he thinks dad killed mom… well I mean it looks like he did kill her, but it's not really her and it's not really him either. I don't think this guy gets that though, I think he's going to kill dad!' Jonathan rambled at him, and he tried to make sense of what he was saying while still trying to remember where exactly they were.
His brother seemed to sense his mental overload, and tried a simpler approach.
'You have to use your heat vision on that thing,' he said, pointing at the electrical board that he guessed controlled the RVs security system.
'What?' Jordan asked again, rubbing his head where he'd been hit.
His brother helped him to a sitting position as he looked around the RV, trying to will his thoughts into order. The memories of the day so far started coming back to him in a jumble and he looked back up at his brother in panic as some of what was going on clicked in.
'Jordan please, you have to focus,' Jon insisted, ignoring the plea for explanation in his brother's eyes. 'We have to help dad.'
'Where is he?' Jordan asked, looking around for any sign of the man who had so easily taken him out.
'I don't know, but I don't think we have much time,' Jonathan explained, clearly disturbed by something he'd seen while Jordan had been unconscious. 'You need to blast that thing!'
Jordan looked up in the direction he was pointing and then back at his frantic expression, his self-doubt kicking in immediately. He was still learning how to focus his powers on command after the random incident at the party.
'You can do this,' Jon assured him, his voice steady and confident.
Somehow his brother's belief in him always made him feel just a little bit stronger.
Jordan placed the electrical board in his sights and willed his vision into action, thinking about everyone and everything that had ever made him angry.
'I'm so sorry Lois', Clark thought with regret as he watched his attacker approaching with dread.
She'd been 100% right. He cursed himself for being so unbelievably stupid.
Marcus pulled the chunk of kryptonite out of the hammer and brought it over to his position on the floor. Clark could do nothing to hide the strangled sounds of pain that escaped him in response to it's closer proximity. His body clenched and tensed shakily against the waves of searing pain that coursed through him.
He twisted away from the rock's sickening green glow and rolled over onto his back, desperate to find any way to ease his discomfort. His back arched upwards as another jolt of pain coursed through him and he cried out sharply.
'Is that all you have Kal-el?' Marcus yelled at the suffering man before him.
It was clear all rational thought was gone from the man's mind. All of his anger had risen to the surface and vengeance had taken over completely. He set the rock down on the ground next to Clark's contorting form and picked up the hammer, walking a short distance away once more.
'Please... you're wrong about me,' Clark managed to choke out between spasms of pain.
It was a desperate plea, he knew it, but he knew he was at the man's mercy.
Marcus didn't even seem to hear him. Without hesitation, he threw the hammer once more, this time catching Clark on his side and sending him across the oil covered floor.
His already broken ribs dug into his flesh and organs as he tumbled helplessly and landed in a heap. His cape was covered in black smudges and his suit was stained with blood.
He started to feel numb as shock began to really set in, protecting him from further trauma.
Clark coughed and spluttered, his own blood gargling in his throat. His survival instincts took over and he began trying to limply pull himself forward on the ground, without any conscious thought of what it would achieve.
He'd barely moved a few inches when he was grabbed roughly by the neck and lifted upright. His legs dangled beneath him, scraping at the ground.
Clark couldn't breathe. He grabbed weakly at the man's gauntleted hand, trying to loosen his grip on his throat. Marcus' eyes bore into his and he looked away, feeling some shame rise up as he did. He wanted to be able to match the man's stare with some kind of heroic defiance, but the combination of his bodies response to the severe beating and the man's murderous intention was triggering something primal in him.
He felt an overwhelming panic flooding through his nervous system and there was no strength of will that could fight against it.
An intense pressure began to build up and his face turned red as the man squeezed his throat, cutting off his blood flow. His vision started to dim and unconsciousness threatened to take over.
'This hero act of yours is all propaganda, a way to soften the masses before you turn on them,' Marcus accused angrily, before throwing him back to the floor like a ragdoll before he could pass out.
Now free from the man's grasp, Clark's body automatically tried to pull air back into his lungs, setting off excruciating jolts of pain as his fractured ribs dug in to his flesh. He broke into a coughing fit as his bruised wind pipe protested his attempts to breathe.
Marcus headed back over to the workbench and put down the hammer, before picking up another weapon from behind – a long staff with a kryptonite blade at its tip. He headed back towards Clark, who was once again sliding forwards on his front in an effort to get away, coughing weakly with every move.
Marcus kicked the fallen superhero over onto his back and Clark felt something in his body surrender as he slumped against the cold floor.
His arms and legs stopped moving and he became completely still, fading in and out of consciousness as his system began to shut down from all the internal and external damage he'd suffered. He twisted his head for one last weak look around to see if there was any hope.
His body was like a dead weight as he lay helplessly before his would-be executioner.
'Out of all the weapons I've used to kill Kryptonian's, this was my favourite,' Marcus said with vitriol in his voice, twirling the weapon like a baton.
'I'm not your enemy,' Clark managed to squeeze out in a pleading whisper, finally meeting the man's gaze and trying to search his eyes for any sign of humanity that might spare him a gruesome death. He thought he saw a flicker of something... but it was quickly clouded over with hatred.
Marcus placed the kryptonite blade over his heart.
Clark closed his eyes and prayed to whatever god there might be that the man would let his sons go after his mission was complete.
After he was dead.
'I love you, Lois', was his last thought before everything went dark.