~~~Part 25~~~
"We're going, and you're not changing my mind," Elle challenged as she reached over to turn the keys and start the ignition again.
"But..."
"No buts. Except yours, driving mine to the warehouse." She was proud that she'd managed to keep the tremor from her voice. She was scared, but this had to be done.
He didn't turn the car off this time. Which was probably a relief for the poor engine; they'd been arguing for at least ten minutes.
"Elle, listen," he started.
She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. The little lines of concern across his forehead were almost endearing. Despite all her tensed up nerves, she had to bite back a smile.
"You can't go. We'll have to find another way." He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I wasn't thinking... I didn't even realize there was no possible way you could get out of there alive. Well, I did, sort of... but the fact really hadn't sunken in. I can usually... handle situations like this."
He was looking at her, visibly shaken for some reason. She waited for him to finish.
"Luthor wants to kill you. *Is* going to kill you. And I think you've seen just how merciless he is..."
A horrid image of Joe falling to the ground flashed through her mind. Elle took a deep breath and exhaled unsteadily. Pete was right.
But if she didn't go... A lot of people would die, not just Lois Lane and her. The people in the Congo... Civil war... Incomprehensible evil...
And she had the power to do something about it. Oh, she didn't delude herself with fantasies of bringing down a crime lord and exposing mass corruption. But even if her part was a small one, she had to do what she could. Didn't she?
She looked back at Pete to find him still staring at her as if he was waiting for some kind of answer to a question he hadn't asked.
"We have to, Pete," she told him softly. "I have to. For Joe. If I run away now, he'll have been killed for nothing. I just... I feel if I stay, do *something* to put a stop to all this, then I won't feel as if it were me who murdered him."
"But you didn't kill him!"
"I might as well have." She almost whispered it, some part of her deep down wishing that it were anything but true. She may not have pulled the trigger, but she was the reason Joe was dead. And she'd never forgive herself for that.
That was why she had to do this. She would die herself before she felt the guilt of another death settle heavy on her shoulders.
There was a long moment of uneasy silence before she heard Pete release a heavy sigh. "I'm not going to change your mind, am I?"
"No, you're not," she said, and found she felt just a bit pleased with herself for winning one at last. "And if you'd been listening two minutes ago, you'd have heard me say just that. Now shut up and drive."
To her amazement, he did just that, throwing the car into drive and stepping on the gas. She tried to bite back that scared stiff feeling that was trying to sneak its way to the forefront. She'd rather been hoping they could continue their argument... because as much as she felt compelled to help, watching Pete squirm had been keeping her mind off the enormity of what she'd insisted on doing.
The worry lines creased into his forehead had only deepened, and that was unsettling. As was his silence.
Elle glanced around the car uneasily. She needed something to keep her mind occupied. Her eyes lighted on the radio, but she dismissed that idea right away, visions of her singing ardently along with the music dancing in her head. As much as she secretly enjoyed the sparring with Pete, she didn't relish the thought of relentless teasing. Not that she sang poorly, but...
She cleared her throat and tried for a different method of distraction. "So did you really have a brilliant plan there, Pete? Or were you just going to escort me to the door and bolt?"
His eye twitched the smallest fraction. She watched as he seemed to think, and then... success. The muscles in his jaw clenched ever so slightly.
"I was going to drop you off at the curb, actually. And I was thinking about being nice and slowing the car down first." He raised a challenging eyebrow at her.
"Gee, thanks. You must be a real hit with the ladies. Tell me, Petey, had many girlfriends? Or have they all turned heel and run?"
Elle tensed for a moment; that had been a bit harsh. But, really, she couldn't imagine any woman wanting to put up with him.
She saw the muscle in his jaw tic again, and there was an uncomfortable silence for at least a good thirty seconds. She'd counted. Thirty two. Thirty thr-
"Nope. I killed them." He had an evil grin on his face, and she tried to ignore the grief she saw hovering just below the surface. "Every single one of them."
"You really are full of it, you know."
"I don't have time for a relationship." He sobered. His words were clipped, but she sensed regret behind them. "Not with this job."
Well, damn. Now she felt kind of bad. This was completely unfair of him, getting under her skin all day, pushing her to the limits of her temper, and now... now he wanted to change the rules on her. Well, if that was what he thought, he had another think coming. She was going to show him who was really in charge... as soon as she apologized.
She sighed. Why she had ever thought a life of crime would work was beyond her. "Pete, look, I'm sor-"
"We're here." He cut her off.
Actually, it was more like he hadn't even heard her. His eyes were focused on the warehouse 200 yards in front of them. The warehouse that, suddenly, looked really ominous. More so than before. So much that she expected the creepy violins from all the horror movies to start screeching any second now.
She gulped. This was it. Do or die. And she was terrified it would be the latter.
***
Clark watched Lois pace back and forth in front of him. He hadn't been sure what was wrong at first, but after asking and getting a hasty reply he knew now that this was her way of thinking, plotting. Trying to come up with their escape plan, no doubt.
He was useless. All he was doing was just sitting back and leaning against the wall. What help was that? Yet what could he do? What could he say? Especially as every muscle in his body ached, and his head was still pounding. It was as if he'd died and was now slowly, painfully coming back to life. So watching Lois was better than any attempt at helping he might make.
Unfortunately, her pacing and the nervous ball of energy he could feel she had in her stomach were starting to make him just a bit nauseous. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. He just had to keep in mind they were escaping. They had to. And he had to stay focused.
Stay focused.
He couldn't let himself think about anything else. Not the look on her face when he'd bared his soul before her, or the tears that had formed in her eyes at his words, or the way she'd launched herself at him, the feel of her lips against his, the surge of something indescribable inside him. He couldn't think about any of that because then he'd have to remember the way she'd pulled away slowly, searched his eyes for something she must not have found, and hastily moved away, stood up.
It wasn't him. He had to tell himself that. It was the situation. And... she'd said as much. Sort of.
She'd mumbled something about needing to figure a way out of here. And that was when the pacing had started. Maybe if there'd been ranting or babbling it would have been okay. But this was just pacing, and he had no idea what was really going through her mind.
Maybe he'd been too forward, said too much. But she'd wanted to know about him. She'd wanted for him not to hide anything. To be honest.
So she’d said. But then, people didn’t always mean what they said.
If only he’d found that out before he’d bared his soul and left himself even more vulnerable.
***
Lois wanted to scream as she paced the length of the cell. No matter how many times she looked around the room, there just wasn't a way out. Nothing even remotely resembled a successful escape route. The slot at the bottom of the door wasn't wide enough for her to stick her arm through, not to mention her arm was a few feet short of being able to reach the latch, anyway.
She was still pacing; it helped her think. Or at least she was trying to convince herself of that. She knew it was only making Clark more antsy, but she couldn’t help it. Clark was still not feeling great, and she realized she'd forgotten to ask how long he thought it might be. But she had to assume that if he hadn't improved more than being able to stand up on shaky limbs in the time they'd been here, he wasn't going to be much help in their escape plan... when she figured out what that was.
The grating sound of the steel bar sliding open startled her. She stopped dead in her tracks, whipping around to face the door. Her mind flashed back like a pulse to the last time she'd heard that sound. Her heart jumped and started racing. Thunder in her ears. Whatever the plan had been... this was. Not. Part. Of. It.
She flinched at the deafening clang of the steel bar coming to a halt, and held her breath, dreading what might be on the other side of the door. Because there was no way in hell it would be the same as the time before. No mysterious rescuer this time. They were here for her. For what she knew. And then... they'd take her life too.
The heavy steel creaked on its hinges, swinging inward. Oh so slowly. Like the sick bastard knew each second increased her feeling of dread. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Clark struggling to get to his feet. She could feel his fear, and it wasn't helping.
Focus on the door. The guard. There had to be an opportunity. Like last time. She'd been ready before, honing her strength. She could... do something.
A towering, burly man appeared in the doorway. The same guy who'd dragged Clark like a rag doll. But...
He didn't have his gun this time.
Clark was sneaking into her peripheral vision. Edging his way towards the door. She couldn't let him. At the moment, she was stronger than he was; it had to be her, but there would only be one shot. She willed Clark to understand that. The connection had to be good for something. Hopefully. Maybe...
The man was speaking. Lois focused on what he was saying, hoping Clark would get the message somehow.
"... Boss'll be by later."
She inched closer. If she could just...
"Told me to check 'n make sure the sack of muscle over there wasn' dead."
The man turned his head to look at Clark, and she went for it. A firm kick to the to the solar plexus. He'd seen her move, though, and made a grab for her foot, but it fell out of his reach before he could grasp it. She'd knocked him off balance. And she had about a second before he gained it back.
Lois seized his shoulders for balance and kneed him in the crotch. He pitched forward, yelping on his way to the floor. She took her elbow to the back of his neck as he fell, hoping to knock him unconscious, or at least stun him long enough for Clark and her to get out. She held her breath for a second, praying that he wouldn't move, then she pushed the steel door open wide.
Clark was a few feet behind her, walking, but not fast enough. She hurried over to him, putting her arm around his waist and his arm around her shoulders. It took agonizing seconds reach the door, keeping her eye trained on the guard, tensing at each twitch and moan.
But then they were through. Outside. Still enclosed by concrete, but the hallway was a path to freedom.
She edged away from Clark, careful to ensure he was still standing, and moved to shut the door. With a quick yank and a satisfying echo of steel against steel, the cell was sealed, and she threw slide bar over to lock it, like a final nail in a coffin.
She turned to find Clark, weary and weak, but grinning at her as he did his best to hold himself upright.
In a flash, she was back beside him and leading him down the hall, though she spared a second to grin back at him. "Let's get the hell out of here."
TBC...
