Chapter 3:When the door fell shut, Lois’ head was spinning. She wasn’t quite sure if that was for lack of oxygen – she’d been holding her breath for fear of being discovered – or because nothing made sense anymore. Her heart hurt like someone had ripped it out and squeezed it tightly.
How could Clark claim he didn't love Mayson when he was ready to die for her? Or act like that didn’t even mean anything? What fault could Mayson possibly find with him? Clark was the perfect boy scout. His disappearing acts aside…
There are things about me, you don't know; that you may never know. Lois felt a strong sense of déja-vu, as if she’d heard these words before, though for the life of her she couldn’t place them.
And Lois? Is she in love with you? I’m not sure.He’d sounded so sad, when he’d told Mayson about his feelings. Unbidden memories of a certain day in a park resurfaced. How many times had Lois wished she’d given him a different answer when he’d poured his heart out in front of her? So much heart-break she could have spared both of them. And even though she should have learned from the experience – even though she should know better than hurting the one man who stayed at her side no matter what – she did it over and over again.
Lois, I do care for you. But...There are things about me you don’t know; that you may never know. It hit her like a ton of bricks. Of course she’d heard these words before, from a man in a cape. And at the time she hadn’t understood it, this deep sadness in his eyes as she’d told him that she loved him. It hadn’t made sense then. Like the conversation between Mayson and Clark. Unless…
“But you don’t want me to be your consolation prize.”
“Something like that, yeah.” He’d always been a terrible liar, hadn’t he? Cheese of the Month, videos he needed to return. What he’d said to Mayson might have been intended as an offhand remark, but it went much deeper. Could it be? Was the real reason he didn’t choose Mayson the secret he carried with him?
Was Clark really Superman? Her mild-mannered partner who needed her help opening a jar? Who, at times, stumbled over his own two feet? It was impossible, and yet it was like a missing piece of a puzzle clicking into place. His disappearing acts, the things he knew, his strange attitude toward bullets – and the incredible loneliness she's seen in both their eyes, in Clark's and Superman's.
It would also explain where he’d been these past few days.
Struck by the sheer dimension of her discovery, Lois lost her balance and bumped into the hangers again. She bit back a curse, her mind reeling. Whatever she’d expected to find out following Clark into the hotel, it certainly wasn’t this. Her heart hammered in her chest.
“You can come out of the closet now, Lois.”
She froze.
He’d seen her.
Well, of course he’d seen her. He was Superman for Heaven’s sake. With a trembling hand Lois reached out and pushed the doors open. Clark was sitting on the bed, looking thoroughly defeated.
“I should have known you’d find a way to sneak into this hotel.” A faint smile crossed his face, awe mixed with a hint of annoyance.
Was he aware she knew his secret? Lois drew a shaky breath, not quite sure how to feel about that revelation. If it was even true. Had her partner, whom she had trusted more than anyone, really been lying to her from the moment she’d met him?
Voice hoarse, she whispered, “You told me you don’t love Mayson, yet you’re ready to take a bullet for her?”
Clark looked up, his expression troubled. He raked a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s not… Lois, when I said that…” He squirmed.
Like he always did when he was about to run off. How had she never seen it?
“Were you going to tell me you’re Superman?” Lois managed past the lump in her throat.
He flinched, but didn’t deny it. Lois stared at him. Had some part of her actually expected him to laugh and tell her she was crazy?
Well, he wasn't laughing. Any faint hint of a smile had vanished from his face.
“So you figured that out, huh?” Clark said flatly.
He didn’t look at her, instead he studied a piece of lint on his pants. As if the world hadn't just been turned upside down, as if her finding out his secret was just a foot note in the book of his life, barely worth mentioning. Anger surged through her in a tidal wave. Did he plan this? Was telling her his secret just some petty sort of come back for slamming the door in his face? Duh, Lois, look what you missed out on!
The angry beast inside her roared. “You knew the entire time I was hiding in the closet, didn't you?”
His eyes widened. “Of course not! I don't go around x-raying every room I step into. I heard you gasp when…” Clark pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. “Do you really think I wanted you to find out like this?”
“Oh, now you care? You had no problems letting me believe Dillinger killed you. That would have been a good moment to tell me the truth.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“You let me believe you were risking your life coming here.” Lois snorted. “But bullets don’t even hurt you! You lied to me, you pathetic…” Her voice broke.
Hurt and betrayal bubbled up inside of her, making her feel as if she was about to burst. But just as she opened her mouth to let it all out, she saw Clark’s eyes, devoid of their usual sparkle. Bone-deep weariness was edged into his features. And suddenly his reaction to the radio report the other night made a cruel kind of sense. It had been Clark who’d worked day and night to pull all these people out from under the rubble, Clark who’d been forced to see all the devastation, knowing that despite his extraordinary powers he wouldn’t be able to save everyone.
And even now as he sat on the bed, shoulders slumped, Lois could tell how that was gnawing at him.
“There are only so many times you can come back from the dead without people starting to ask questions,” he said quietly. “I was lucky people bought my explanation the first time around.”
Lois bit her lip in shame. She hadn’t really considered what exposure would mean for her partner. All the things Clark had that Superman never would. A life, friendships, perhaps love. Just the normal everyday things that made life worth living. Lois couldn’t picture Superman going to the cinema to watch a movie or spending a night in, sharing a pizza.
Because Superman did none of these things. That had always been Clark. Her best friend. The one man she’d thought she knew better than anyone else on this planet.
Lois sank down on the bed next to him. “When was the last time you slept?”
“I don’t know.” He blinked in confusion. “Like three days ago? Couldn't risk Mayson catching me floating in my sleep. But that's okay. I don't need much sleep.”
The dark circles under his eyes told another story. Had he lain awake, watching over Mayson, tossing and turning on that little couch instead of getting some much needed rest? And Lois had been ready to think the worst of him.
“You told Mayson that she didn’t really know you.”
“She doesn’t.” Clark took off his glasses and wiped his face with his hand before he continued. “When we first met, she thought Clark was brave - because I was willing to testify against the people who’d attacked your uncle. But it’s not like I was risking much. What she sees in Clark – it’s a lie.”
“You once said the same to me when I asked Superman if there was a chance for us.”
“Yeah. Because what you saw in Superman was a lie, too.”
“That’s not true. I knew you weren’t perfect, I knew that underneath all the spandex you were human like the rest of us.”
“Not exactly human,” he corrected her gently. A faint smile crossed his face and he reached out to brush a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Did you know that sometimes your unwavering belief in Superman is the only thing that keeps me going? Telling you no was one of the hardest things I ever did. But if I’d given you Superman, you would have ended up with Clark.” His face clouded over.
And Mayson would end up with the very man she hated most - Superman. No wonder, he’d told her there was no chance for them.
“For the record, I always wanted to tell you my secret,” he said quietly. “You were the first person I ever wanted to tell.” His gaze held no deception, just warmth.
He wasn’t lying, she was sure about that. How could he still feel that deeply about her, when all she ever did was make his life miserable?
Her gut twisted. “But then I slammed the door in your face.”
“Yeah.” He grimaced. “Though I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have told you two days ago even if you’d kissed me senseless.”
A rueful expression crossed his face before he looked down, not quite able to meet her gaze. Lois didn’t know how to feel. A part of her desperately wanted to reach out and cup his cheek, lean in and capture his lips, like she should have done two days ago. Another part of her was just deeply confused. The white hot anger burning inside her had vanished, leaving a hole inside her chest. Clark was Superman, Superman was Clark. She didn’t have to choose. She should be exhilarated.
Only she wasn’t.
Clark tensed and slipped his glasses back on. “This isn’t over yet, Lois. I know you must have tons of questions and I promise I’ll answer all of them. But I have to get back to Mayson before Intergang finds her here.”
He made the first step toward the door, but she held him back. “Is Superman the reason you broke up with her?”
Clark answered with a pained smile. “That and the fact that I’m madly in love with you. I wasn’t lying when I told you that.”
His chocolate brown eyes rested on her, kind and caring. Familiar in a way that made her breath catch.
Tell him you love him, a voice inside her whispered.
Is it really so hard to understand why he kept his secret? That he needed to be sure before he let you in? But there was also another voice, reminding her of the reason they were here. Mayson.
He’s not risking his life.
No, but he’s risking exposure.
You hurt him so many times, and still he’s willing to take a chance on you. Why don’t you take a chance on him?Lois opened her mouth, but Clark held up a hand. “Don’t say anything. I can only guess how mad you are right now and last time I blurted out my feelings for you didn’t work so well for me. I understand if it’s too much.”
He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants and bounced on his feet, seeming torn between needing to go after Mayson and staying with her to answer her questions. And there was really no question where he should be. She could still see it in his eyes, the pain of all these lives lost, his deep-rooted urge to save his friend.
There was one last thing she needed to ask him, though. “What about your feelings for her? I mean, if you weren’t Superman, if you didn’t have this secret.”
He stared at his feet. “That’s a pretty moot point, don’t you think?”
“Humor me.”
Clark pursed his lips. “So, you want to know if
you’re the consolation prize? If I’d choose Mayson if I could?”
“Is that such a strange question?”
“It’s always been you, Lois,” he said hoarsely. “From the moment you stormed into my interview, from the moment you saw me swallow a bomb and didn’t even flinch. What does it matter whether I could have loved her if I weren’t who I am?”
There was a raw honesty in his gaze, eyes that seemed to belong to a stranger. Like a mask just slipped from his face, revealing the real man underneath. He'd never let her see him quite this vulnerable. Not as Clark and particularly not as Superman.
She wanted to take his hand and say something meaningful. She wanted to tell him that, at her side, he’d never be lonely again.
But coming from her, that wouldn’t sound very convincing.
“Clark…” She drew a shaky breath and struggled for something to say.
A smile tugged at his lips and he shook his head.
There’s no need, his eyes seemed to say.
I understand. Somehow he always did, even without words. She didn’t know where to go from here. He knew her so well. And she’d thought she knew him. But also, she didn't. It was so confusing.
“It’s okay if you need time,” he said softly. “I’d also understand if you’ll never talk to me again, because–”
His head whipped around and he lowered his glasses to stare at something beyond the windows.
“Intergang’s people,” he said tightly. “Better call Burke and then get out of here. I haven't spotted any of them yet. Either they’re really good or they got held up.”
Then, with a whoosh, Clark was gone. Just like that. She didn't even get to tell him Burke had gone home sick last night. She stared at the door falling shut behind him. Though she should have expected him to leave right in the middle of a conversation, the reality was mind-blowing.
Her mild mannered partner was about to take on the bad guys. She felt like someone should pinch her, because she wasn’t sure she was ready for any of this. Dazed, she took the hotel room phone and returned to the window to peek through the curtains while she dialed Henderson’s number.
In front of the hotel, a non-descript white van stopped in the parking lot. The driver got out, dressed in a light brown overall. With his bowlegs he moved like a sailor who’d just disembarked from a ship as he went around the van and opened the rear door. Two men in similar clothes climbed out of the back, one at least a head taller than his companions. The third man had pulled down the top of his overall, and had tied the sleeves around his waist. A plain white t-shirt stretched above his muscular chest, revealing tattoos on both his arms.
“This is Henderson,” a rough voice on the phone startled her out of her observation.
“Henderson! Uh…It's me…um… Lois.” She took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. “Intergang’s assassins just arrived at the hotel.”
Or it was just a group of janitors. She bit her lip as she watched them stretch outside their car.
“You sure?” she heard Henderon’s soft groan on the other end of the line. “‘Cause I got my hands full already.”
Down in the parking lot, the sailor guy and his tattooed companion with the tied sleeves started pulling out a box from the back of the van. Lois had no idea what had caught Clark's attention. But she trusted his judgment. Especially now that she knew his uncanny instinct for trouble was supervision paired with extraordinary hearing.
“Look, Henderson.” Lois huffed in frustration. “We don’t have time for this. Three goons already got out of their van. After we talked this morning, I thought you guys would be here already.”
“It’s not that easy, Lois.” Another groan. She could almost see him sitting there, rubbing his temple as they spoke. “All I have is your word on this and – don’t get me wrong – but you seemed pretty rattled when we talked. We’re absolutely swamped over here. I can’t very well send out a S.W.A.T team because a few guys climb out of a van. Can’t you give me anything more concrete than that?”
Spelled out like that, it sounded ridiculous. She had to give it to Henderson that he’d stayed incredibly polite so far. He believed her, she was sure. But unfortunately, he was also right.
Downstairs a second van arrived and parked next to the first one. A man with a cowboy hat climbed out of the driver seat and went to the back. Two more men left the car through the back door, but Lois could only see their heads. Unless they pulled out a rifle, how was she supposed to convince Henderson they were dangerous?
“Come on, Bill!” Lois begged. “You and I both know that my leads usually pan out.”
“Sorry, Lane. But I really can’t afford to send any people on a wild goose chase.” He sounded tired, frustrated.
She obviously wasn’t the only one whose day didn’t go according to plan. Lois almost felt bad for him. But downstairs Clark was trying to keep Mayson Drake safe. And she had the sinking feeling he wasn’t going to just sweep her up and bring her out of reach. Because she’d insist they bring down Intergang. And knowing him, he’d comply. Even if it meant exposing his secret. To her or to everyone else.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Henderson!” Lois wished she could grab the inspector by his lapels and shake some sense into him “Superman said they belong to Intergang.” He hadn't. Not exactly. “Now get some people out here.”
“Superman? He’s there already?” That at least seemed to get the Inspector’s attention. “Can I talk to him?”
“No, he’s flown off to protect Mayson Drake. Which should be the job of Metropolis’ finest, if they were here, that is.”
Behind the vans, the man with the cowboy hat exchanged his headdress with a plain black hat. The others had put on similar hats. Sailor guy closed the back doors and signaled for the others to move. One after another, they filed into a line, ducking behind the row of cars as they approached the hotel.
Lois watched them with growing unease. Whatever these people had in mind, they sure weren’t janitors. “Henderson, these guys look like military. Ex-soldiers if you ask me. Get some people down here.”
“Okay,” Henderson replied with a hint of exasperation. “I’ll see what I can do. If you see Superman, please tell him to be careful. Someone broke into S.T.A.R. Labs this morning and stole Kryptonite.”
“What?” For a moment Lois forgot about the group of men in the parking lot. She stared at the receiver in her hand. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m certainly not,” Henderson grumbled.
At another sign of Sailor guy, the group of pseudo-janitors rolled down their hats until their faces were covered with ski-masks. Then they spread out, every single man armed with a machine gun. Sailor guy and his tall companion headed for Lois’ side of the hotel, Cowboy Hat and Tied-Sleeves turned left toward the side entrance. The last two men were carrying a toolbox between them, one of them bulky, the other guy lean but clunky.
What were they doing with a toolbox?
It made no sense.
Unless Burke was on Intergang’s payroll and had told them Superman was going to keep an eye on Mayson Drake.
Lois’ heart raced. “Henderson, did you manage to contact Burke? Henderson? You’re still there?”
“‘Course I am. Lois, I’m not in the mood for playing the twenty questions game. I’ve got to get back to work. I promise I’ll send out a police car to check out your guys. But that’s all I can do for now.”
Not good enough. “Henderson, they’re armed to the teeth. And that kryptonite you’re looking for - I think it’s here.”
***
Clark slowed to normal speed when he made it to the first floor. He lowered his glasses and peeked through the wall. Outside the first group had exited the van and the second group was approaching. His stomach twisted. Why had they sent so many people? It didn’t make sense. He’d expected a single assassin who’d mingle with the crowd and look for a way to kill Mayson without raising suspicion. But these guys had machine guns and enough ammunition to take on a whole army.
With a sigh, Clark pushed his glasses back onto his nose. He needed to get Mayson out of here. Better yet, Superman should just storm out there and rid these guys off their weapons. Problem solved. Surely, there’d be enough evidence pointing toward Intergang. He didn’t want to have any more blood on his hands. There were too many people here to keep them all safe.
But he’d promised Mayson not to let Superman ruin this.
He knew he owed her.
Heart hammering in his ears, Clark exited the staircase and headed for the conference room. The hall was empty and his steps echoed from the walls as he went toward the large doors. Inside the conference room, the first speech had already started. Clark snuck another glance at the Intergang guys. They were already gearing up. Not much time to get the people to safety, not much time at all.
He chewed on his bottom lip, wrestling with his decision to let Clark handle the situation. Hopefully, upstairs Lois was getting through to Burke. Clark gritted his teeth before he opened the door and snuck into the conference room. Several rows of chairs faced a stage on the other side of the room. Large curtains covered the walls around the stage. A projection screen hung from the ceiling, showing slides. An elderly man stood at the lectern and flicked through the slides while presenting one of his cases.
Veiled by the curtains a stage door provided an unobtrusive exit. Clark filed that away for later. He let his gaze drift across the crowd, looking for Mayson. He found her in the third row on the far left. Careful not to block anyone’s view, he went around the row of chairs, keeping his ears trained on what was going on outside the hotel rather than on the speech.
Intergang’s goons weren’t talking much, though. He heard the sound of metal as they pulled something heavy from the back of the van. Doors clapped, then they moved. Heavy boots hit the ground, one accompanied by a rhythmic jingle.
A sudden screech violently brought Clark back into the conference room. Wincing from the pain, he covered his ears and stumbled, needing a moment to realize the mic had been giving acoustic feedback. His ears were ringing and with some difficulty, he managed to get his hearing back under control.
The mic screeched again, but this time Clark was prepared. He cursed inwardly. No more listening to Intergang’s people, it seemed. He straightened his tie and continued his path along the wall until he reached the third row and sat down next to Mayson. Her gaze flickered toward him ever so briefly, before she set her jaw and stared right ahead, pretending not to notice him.
“Mayson,” he whispered.
She continued to ignore him.
“Mayson, please.”
“Shh,” someone hissed behind them.
Clark threw a glance over his shoulder, offering what he hoped was an apologetic smile before he turned his attention back to the woman next to him. Heaving a small sigh, he touched her arm. That got him a stern look and a deep frown on Mayson’s forehead before she resumed to follow the speech. Clark stifled a groan and leaned toward her.
“Mayson, Intergang’s here. I’ve got to get you out now.”
Her jaw worked, but she turned to him. “Let Burke handle them. You’ve done enough already.”
“Burke’s not here.”
She pursed her lips. “Says who?”
“Either you two are quiet now or you take your conversation outside,” a man whispered from behind.
Clark balled his hands into fists. What on Earth had possessed him to take on this job? He should just change into his suit, storm out and stop them. Weighing his options, he turned to Mayson once more, but she was still stubbornly ignoring him. Okay, if she wanted to play it tough, he’d handle this his way. Clark gritted his teeth, got to his feet and headed for the entrance.
Intergang was faster though. Before Clark made it half-way to the other end of the conference room, the doors flew open on three sides. Men in light brown overalls and ski masks stormed in, pointing machine guns at the crowd.
“Hands up where I can see them. Nobody moves,” one of the men shouted.
Behind him, four men spread out to the edges of the room. The last two men carried a tool box between them, their guns dangling at their sides. Clark watched them confused. What were these guys up to? Was that a bomb inside the toolbox? He surreptitiously lowered his glasses to find out what was inside.
It didn't work.
Lead.
Clark's sense of unease grew.
The men walked down the aisle between the two blocks of chairs, setting the toolbox down in the middle. At the nod of the man who'd spoken, they flipped open the lid and revealed an eerie green glow.
Clark felt the effects of kryptonite immediately. It began with a sharp pain behind his eyes, followed by a strange dizziness, then a dull ache settled in his bones. He was far enough for the kryptonite that the cramping in his stomach didn't set in. But already Clark felt his strength seeping out of him.
He staggered back until he hit the wall behind him. It didn't bring much relief. If he wanted to do anything remotely super, he needed to act fast.
The man who appeared to be the leader knocked his gun against the metal box.
“Know what this is?” He let his gaze drift across the crowd expectantly. “It's kryptonite. Meaning that the guy in blue is in for a nasty surprise, should anyone think about calling him. But as long as you all cooperate, nobody is going to get hurt.”
Clark tipped down his glasses, peeling away the curtains with his X-ray vision. The stage door was unguarded. If he managed to get Mayson behind the curtains, she might have a chance to escape.
“You!” Clark flinched at the yell.
He turned his head and found the leader of the gang aiming his machine gun right at him. Clark's breath caught as he stared at the man who was now approaching him. With his bowed legs he moved anything but gracefully. Still, the aim of the gun wasn’t wavering.
“You're not going to escape, so don’t even think about it,” the leader warned him.
“What do you even want?” A man on the other side of the conference room piped up.
Clark recognized him as one of Mayson’s friends from law school. Just an hour ago, they’d had breakfast together. None of them had expected to find themselves in a hostage situation. The young man stood with his arms akimbo, trying not to look intimidated when the leader of the gang slowly turned in his direction.
“That's none of your concern,” he growled. “Come here. You’re going to help him.” Then he swept the perimeter until his eyes found another man standing upright. “And you over there,” he waved Clark and the others over, then pointed at the chairs in the left block. “The three of you are going to stack these chairs, and then the first three rows on the right.”
Clark's gaze drifted toward the box with the kryptonite. Any closer and he'd be in serious trouble.
“Hurry,” the leader barked. “Everyone else, hand over your mobile phones and take a seat in the left corner.”
The muzzle of the machine gun - again firmly trained on Clark’s chest - left little doubt the man meant business. Gritting his teeth, Clark pushed himself off the wall and indicated that he would take care of the front rows. The other two men nodded and got to work.
Clark kept his distance from the kryptonite as he went to the first row and started stacking chairs. The lawyers who'd been sitting there stood. One of the thugs, at least a head taller than Clark, ushered them into the corner Clark was clearing of chairs.
As he moved past Mayson, she seemed to shrink into her seat. Her face was pale, her lower lip trembling. When Clark met her gaze, she looked at her feet and kneaded her hands.
He’d stopped working only for a moment, but already he felt the muzzle of a gun pressed into his ribs.
“Hey, no time for resting! Get on with it!” the tall guy hissed.
Clark hurried to pick up the next chair, afraid to draw any unnecessary attention to himself. With every row he cleared, he was feeling the effects of the kryptonite grow stronger. The dull ache in his bones had increased to a steady pain, his head was hurting and his stomach twisted. Sweat trickled down his back, soaking his shirt. Every chair seemed heavier than the last one.
When he’d finished one row, he went on to the next and bit back a grunt as a surge of agony went through him. He braced himself against the arms of the chair, breathing through the pain in an effort to get a grip on himself. Clark knew he couldn't keep this up much longer. His strength was dwindling fast. He hauled up the next chair, panting as he moved on.
“Look at this homebody, a few chairs and he's about to have a heart-attack,” one of the thugs leered.
He had tied the sleeves of his overall around his waist. His tattooed arms sported muscular biceps, and even through the mask Clark could see the constant motion of his jaw as he chewed on gum. The man ushered the group of lawyers on, while Clark loosened his tie before lifting the next chair.
At least he was almost done. The man who'd taken care of the three rows on the right had come to help. Clark risked a brief glance over his shoulder. Mayson was sitting in the utmost left corner, her back resting against the stage while she was keeping her head down.
It was a relief they hadn't singled her out yet.
Focusing back on his work, Clark put the next few chairs on a stack while the third man used a cart to store them at the far end of the conference room.
By the time Clark had finished his work, he was seeing stars. His knees threatened to give out underneath him and he almost fainted with relief when a bulky man with a machine gun in his hand shoved him toward the hostages that were already huddled in the left corner of the room.
But the intense pain lessened the further he moved away from the kryptonite, reverting back to the dull ache of what Clark assumed sore muscles would feel like. He wiped sweat from his brow and worked his way through the huddled crowd until he found a spot next to Mayson.
His heart was still racing and he leaned his back against the wall.
“Clark, you look awful!” Mayson whispered next to him.
“I'm fine,” Clark said through clenched teeth.
Or he would be if he stayed away from the kryptonite. He closed his eyes for a moment. Gentle daylight filtered through the skylights above, soothing his aches. It wasn’t going to be enough to heal him, though. He cursed his own arrogance, believing he could easily handle anything fate would throw at him because he was invulnerable. Well, he wasn’t.
And now Mayson might be paying the price - the very thing he’d been so desperate to prevent. Clark balled his hands into tight fists and opened his eyes again. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed Mayson had chosen a spot right in the corner of the stage. This could work in their favor. The curtains were just in reach, providing a covert route to the hidden stage door. All he needed was an opening to get her out.
Unfortunately, Superman was no longer around to help.
Clark bit his lip and focused his attention back on the conference room. Now all the people who’d been in the room sat in the left corner, hands above their heads, three of the goons assumed position to keep watch. The bulky man who had brought the kryptonite, climbed onto the stage; his lean companion took the right side.
The leader positioned himself right in front of the hostages. “While we’re keeping an eye on you, my men will be searching the rest of the hotel. I suggest you stay quiet. The sooner we have what we need, the sooner everyone can go home.”
He motioned at his people to spread out. Clark watched them as one after another they left the conference room, first the tall guy, then the guy with the tied sleeves, and finally the man whose every step was accompanied by a slight jingle. Clark saw that he wore cowboy boots. Not exactly unobtrusive in a city like Metropolis.
Clark watched them leave, deciding to wonder about their dress code later.
While they were out, he might have a chance at rescuing Mayson. Hopefully, Lois had listened to him for once and had gotten out in time.
He’d rather not think about what would happen to her if she was still up there.
***
Lois dropped the phone. Blood rushed in her ears. Someone had stolen kryptonite from S.T.A.R. Labs. And now these thugs carried a big metal box between them. This couldn’t be a coincidence. She stumbled back from the window and hurried out of the hotel room. Clark was down there somewhere and had no idea what he might be up against.
Rounding the corner, Lois brushed against her cart. The hallway was empty. She rushed past the long row of doors. Where was the staircase? Lois passed the elevators and hesitated. There was one waiting on her floor. But what if she took the fast way down and ran right into the arms of Intergang’s henchmen?
She wanted to help Clark, not turn into a liability.
Muttering a curse, she continued down the endless corridor until she spotted a green emergency exit sign. She was panting hard by the time she opened the door and stormed down the first flight of stairs. The banging of a door several floors down stopped her dead. She grabbed the bannister to keep herself from toppling down the next flight.
Muffled voices floated up to her.
Trying to catch her breath, Lois peeked over the banister, careful not to make a noise. Down on the first floor, she saw two people, arms clad in brown, gloved hands and black masks. A steady jingle accompanied the steps of the second one, sounding almost like he was wearing boots with spurs or a chain with keys. A third man appeared behind them, his arms covered in tattoos – the guy with the tied sleeves. Three men who were armed with machine guns. Lois backed away and pressed herself against the wall.
“You two search the upper floors for any remaining personnel,” a man barked. “I’ll secure the other entrance and see if there is anyone else left down here. Most hotel guests should be in the conference room already. Make it quick. Without the kryptonite, we’re sitting ducks.”
“Okay,” The other voice was hoarse like a chain smoker’s. "I take this staircase, you take the other one.”
“Will do,” the third man replied. He sounded young, more like a boy than a man.
From downstairs she heard the sound of footsteps, several at first, but gradually they faded. One man was coming her way, each of his steps accompanied by a jingle. Spurs, Lois decided, given that one of them had been wearing a Cowboy hat before he’d exchanged it for the mask. She pressed herself a little closer to the wall and looked up. Just one short flight of stairs back. Maybe she could find another way out.
But what if she wasn't quick enough, not silent enough?
Even her breathing suddenly sounded loud to her ears.
Staying where she was, Lois fought to suppress her mounting panic. The sound of her own heartbeat thundered in her ears. Downstairs, the steps didn’t change their pace, gradually coming closer until they stopped. A door below her creaked, then fell shut. The bang echoed through the staircase, followed by an eerie silence.
So they indeed had kryptonite.
Long seconds passed until Lois risked another peek over the banister. The staircase seemed empty. What now? How long was Spurs going to search the second floor? Assuming that was the door he’d opened. Lois glanced upward. One short flight of stairs up, about four down.
Had Clark gotten out in time?
Images of him writhing on the floor in agony crept up on her - Superman, curling up into a fetal position from the kryptonite he’d ingested. The bullet she’d had to dig out of his shoulder. She squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught. Maybe he got out in time, maybe…
Lois took a shuddering breath, slipped out of her shoes and picked them up. Down it was.
She’d made it to the fourth floor when she heard the door again. Spurs’ jingle was much too close for comfort now. She heard his wheezing breath as he climbed up, smelled his sweat. Her stomach turned and she pressed her hand to her lips. She counted his steps. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen… fourteen….fifteen. Her heart raced and she glanced over to the door that would take her to the next hallway. It was too late to slip inside now. Any moment now, he’d see her.
But then the next door squeaked and fell shut with a bang.
One floor beneath her.
Lois tried to remember how to breathe.
TOCComments
