Superman Movieverse Forum

Title: Family Reunion
Author: Mr. Beeto
Rating: PG-13
Beta: htbthomas and Shado Librarian
Summary: AU Twist on Donner/Singer Movieverse: Tie the three films together into a cohesive whole, and provide a more credible and interesting reason for Superman to have returned to Krypton.

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Author’s Notes:
Thanks again to the beta team of htbthomas and Shado Librarian, a.k.a. dandello.

Chapter 31 – The Trap

Tuesday, October 3, 2006 5:30PM EDT
Richard had successfully buried himself in his work, though he had to close the blinds in his office to avoid the distraction of seeing Lois huddled over her notes at Clark’s desk.  By the end of the day, the international breaking news was thoroughly broken down for the morning edition, and the Washington Bureau’s election stories had dovetailed quite nicely as well.  The results at the end of the day left Richard satisfied that he’d earned his keep.  However, he now faced a far greater challenge – convincing Lois to call it a day and leave with him.

As he feared, Lois had not been anxious to end her workday.  “Richard, you don’t bring down an elusive mad genius like Luthor by calling it a day at five,” she lectured him.  “This is arguably the most important story of the year.  No, of the decade!”

“We still have to pick up Jason by six,” Richard pointed out impatiently.

“Then pick him up,” Lois snapped.  “Oh, and take home the lasagna that Clark brought in from Kara’s babysitter.  Wait, let me find the instructions they wrote down for warming it up…”

“Lasagna?”

“It’s gluten-free,” Lois explained.  “When Clark told her about Jason, she looked up some recipes online, and experimented with one of them last night.  She sent us the leftovers…  Ah, here it is.”

Richard frowned at the reminder of Jason’s paternity and thought, We’ve managed to feed Jason just fine all these years without Clark’s help.

“Um, Lois?” Clark interrupted.  Lois looked over at him and the shy man nervously stammered, “Um, we’re actually at kind of a – a holding pattern until our, um, source comes through, and Jason’s going to, um,  need some Mommy-time with you just as much as Kara will need Daddy-time with me.  We’re – we’re at a good point to call it a day.”

“But the information from Boston…” Lois objected.

“…Isn’t likely to show up for awhile,” Clark finished for her.  “Lois, if I hear anything, I’ll call you – promise.”

Lois rolled her eyes and grumbled, “Fine, but you better be here bright and early tomorrow morning.”  She turned to Richard and said irritably, “Go pick up Jason.  I’ll meet you at home.”

Richard stared at Clark incredulously for a moment and thought, He says it and she listens, but I say it and it’s a fight…  Why is she so unwilling to listen to me?  Finally, he shook his head and marched off to the elevators.

Richard’s irritation with Lois’ stubbornness and the unwanted assistance from Clark had almost been forgotten by the time he reached the AfterCare facility, and he offered Jason a genuine smile as the little boy eagerly ran into his arms.  “Daddy!” Jason exclaimed enthusiastically.  “You’re back!”

“Yeah, kiddo, I’m back,” Richard said with a chuckle.  “Do you have fun today?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, you can tell me about it on the way home,” Richard told him pleasantly.  “Mommy’s even making lasagna.”

“Like Grandma Kent’s?” Jason asked innocently.  “She makes really good lasagna.”

“Really?  And how do you know that?” Richard asked with false cheer.

“Because,” Jason replied happily as he started giggling and shyly looking away.  That was the only answer that Richard was able to get on the matter.



Lois checked the oven timer and reread the simple reheating instructions that Clark had written down for her, smiling as the lasagna’s aroma filtered through the kitchen and recalling the source of the meal.  Martha had insisted on sending the leftovers with her, but everyone had forgotten about it when it was time to say goodbye.  She’d been sorely disappointed when she remembered about it afterwards, and delighted when Clark had shown up with the leftovers that morning.  Unfortunately, the explanation for the meal had visibly annoyed Richard, most likely from the reminder of Clark’s relationship to Jason.  How long is Richard going to sulk over Jason’s paternity? Lois wondered in frustration.  It’s not as if it will change if he ignores it, and it’s not the first time a relative has sent leftovers home with us.

She was interrupted from her thoughts when the door to the garage opened behind her and Jason came bounding through with Richard strolling in behind him.  “Mommy!” Jason said enthusiastically, running into his mother’s arms for an affectionate hug and excitedly showing her the toy spaceship that Richard had bought for him in Chicago and eagerly describing its features.

After sending Jason off to take care of his things, she stood up, noticed Richard’s stern expression and rolled her eyes.  “What is it this time?” she asked irritably.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Richard said curtly.

“Richard, I know you well enough to tell when you’re about to bitch about something,” Lois declared.  “Now what’s your beef this time?”

“Nothing… it’s just a bit surprising to come back and find that Clark was planning out your meals.”

  “He was just trying to help,” Lois snapped.  “He knows that cooking isn’t my strong point and we didn’t know when you were getting back.”

“Maybe you would have known if you had bothered to answer even once when I called to check in these past couple days,” he replied sharply.

“I never heard the phone ring – must have had a weak signal,” Lois replied.

Richard sighed heavily and pointed out, “Lois, we get four bars in the house.  Where exactly were you that there would have been a weak signal?”

“All over,” Lois replied angrily.  “Damn it, Richard, do we have to do this now?  I’d really like to have at least some peace tonight.”

“All right, but we are going to talk about this later,” he replied sternly.  He began walking out of the kitchen, but paused at the doorway, turning back to her and saying irritably, “By the way – Jason’s hoping that the lasagna will be as good as Grandma Kent’s.  I can’t wait to hear the story behind that.”  He then marched out of the kitchen, leaving Lois staring after him in surprise.

There was an awkward silence between the adults when they finally settled down at dinner, both determined to maintain their cheerful façade for Jason’s sake.  The little boy seemed oblivious to the tension at first, eagerly digging into his lasagna.  However, he picked up on their uncomfortable demeanor a short time later, looking nervously from one parent to the other.  Richard noticed his expression and finally broke the silence as he asked, “So… what have you two been up to while I was gone?”

“Jason, why don’t you tell Daddy Richard about all the fun you had playing touch football Sunday afternoon,” Lois suggested.

Jason smiled widely, and immediately launched into a detailed account of the game they’d played and his part in their victory.  The little boy’s enthusiasm provoked wide smiles from both adults, though Richard expressed some surprise upon learning that Lois had also participated in the game.  Both adults encouraged the little boy’s tale and temporarily forgot their recent troubles.

The tenuous peace came to an abrupt end when the tale moved past the game and Jason excitedly proclaimed, “…and after the game, Daddy Clark told us all kinds of neat stories!  There was one about a Thuselah from Midgard–”

Richard interrupted Jason’s narration, turning to Lois and angrily asking, “Clark was there?”

“Ron and Lucy invited him for dinner when he stopped by to get Kara,” Lois answered testily.  At Richard’s disbelieving glare, she added, “He’s their friend.  Don’t get your nose out of joint just because they don’t pick sides.”

“And just what else have you been doing with Clark while I was away?” Richard furiously demanded.

“Richard, I’m getting tired of all your insinuations,” Lois declared angrily,

“Why is it such a crime to wonder what roles the man’s taken over with my family?” Richard demanded touchily.  “This is still my family, isn’t it?”

“Richard, stop it!” Lois hissed.  She nodded her head towards Jason and added, “We’re not discussing this now.”  Further comment was prevented by the sharp ring of Lois’ cell phone, and she quickly got up from the table and fished the device from her purse.  Her brow wrinkled in confusion when she read the caller ID, and she answered the phone, casually asking, “Does this mean that ‘Daddy-time’ is over already?”

“Daddy-time’s been postponed, thanks to a phone call from Katherine Kowalski,” Clark told her seriously.

Behind her, Richard irritably muttered, “God forbid you answer a call from me, but you’ll interrupt dinner to answer him on the second ring.”

Lois ignored Richard, her attention focused exclusively on Clark’s surprising news.  She began marching briskly down the hall to the office for privacy as she incredulously replied, “Kowalski called?  What did she want?”

“She wants to lure me into a trap, but she said she’s got incriminating information for us on Lex Luthor,” Clark informed her.

“Are you sure it’s a trap?”

“Well, it sure looks that way.  For one thing, she insists that I come alone to an abandoned plant in Suicide Slum tonight at midnight,” Clark revealed.  “It’s at forty-ninth and Independence – it used to be the old Baxter Metal Stamping plant years ago, before the area went downhill.”

“Same place we found that InterGang Chop Shop back in the day?” Lois asked curiously.

“That’s the one.”

“No way is someone like Kowalski going there, alone, at that time of night.”

“Not likely,” Clark agreed.  “Another thing – when I suggested an alternate location and recommended involving friends from Witness Protection for her, she muted the phone.”

“How could you tell?”

“There’s always background noise if you know to listen for it, which suddenly disappears when someone hits the mute button,” Clark told her.

“And there’s only one reason for her to hit mute…” Lois began.

“…so that I wouldn’t hear Luthor telling her what to say,” Clark finished.  “There are some other minor inconsistencies in what she was saying, too, and it all points to the same thing – it’s a trap…  However, it could still be a good way to find out where Luthor’s hiding, if his flunkies take me there, and might be our best shot at recovering the stolen crystals before he does something crazy with them.”

“Clark, have you lost your mind?” Lois asked incredulously.  She pitched her voice lower and asked emphatically, “What if…  Wait, is it safe to talk about this on the phone?”

“As safe as being there.  After the upgrades on our phones, not even somebody with stolen Kryptonian technology could break the encryption,” Clark assured her.  “Unless your house is bugged, it’s safe to talk.”

“Well, what if Luthor has kryptonite?  And what if he’s figured out the, um, ‘family secret’?”

“I’m fairly certain that he’s after Clark Kent this time, not Superman,” Clark countered.  “Last time he lured Superman into a trap, he sent a bomb threat over an ultra-sonic carrier wave that only Kryptonians can hear.”

“Clark, Luthor does have the resources for a thorough background check on Clark Kent,” Lois reminded him.

“And he’d find a continuous record over the past several years,” Clark explained.  “My mom put down most of the farm income as mine on the tax returns, and used my checks and credit cards to pay the bills.  As far as any official agencies are concerned, Mom’s retired and I’ve spent the last six years working as a farmer in Smallville…  Lois, Clark Kent’s name is on those stories, same as yours.  That’s who he’s after, but you could be in danger, too.   Your name is on those stories, same as mine.”

“He’s insane, not suicidal,” Lois countered.  “He knows that if he came after me that he’d have a very pissed off Superman on his ass and he can’t go toe-to-toe with him.”

“He may have linked you to Superman back in the day, but I don’t think anyone’s thinking along those lines now – at least I hope not,” Clark argued.  “Besides, Luthor has to realize that he’s already angered Superman.  He’d have little doubt that the burglary would be discovered by now and this morning’s paper left little doubt about what Superman thinks of him.”

“Well, if he’s not worried about Superman, then why’d Kowalski call you instead of me?  I’ve got top billing on those stories.”

“Divide and conquer, maybe?” Clark suggested.  “Or maybe he needs to lure me into a trap because he doesn’t have a local address to target his rage against.  He wouldn’t have that problem with you.  Remember, he has the resources for a thorough background check on Lois Lane.”
 
“Luthor’s not chasing me out of my house!” Lois objected adamantly.

“Lois, at least lay low long enough for us to install some advanced security upgrades at the house,” Clark suggested.  “And we’re keeping Jason home from school tomorrow – Mom’s already volunteered to watch him.”

Lois was silent for a moment, and then quietly asked, “How long will we need to lay low?”

“At least for tonight – maybe a few days to a week while we wait for the dust to settle,” Clark said gently.  “We’ll know more after we see what Luthor tries tonight.”

Lois rolled her eyes and said irritably, “Fine, but it still sucks...  you do realize that Richard will go ballistic over this shit, right?”

  “Sorry about that,” Clark said sincerely.  After a brief pause, he added, “You know you’re welcome to stay out here.  It gets complicated with Richard back in town, though.  I can’t imagine a convincing way of explaining the portal system to him without giving him enough clues to figure out the family secret.”

“I don’t think we need to worry about that quite yet – it’s the other unconvincing explanations that are the problem,” Lois replied unhappily.  She sighed, and then added, “I’ll let Richard know we’re evacuating and make the arrangements.  I’ll call you back once everything is set.”

“Holler if you need anything.  I’ll be around,” Clark told her.

After ending the call, Lois looked down the hall towards the kitchen apprehensively.  He’d better not give me the ‘nothing’s worth getting killed over’ lecture, Lois thought.  Well, I might as well get this over with.  As she walked down the hall, the sounds of Jason’s piano practice informed her that he and Richard had finished their dinner.  A glance in the kitchen confirmed that the dishes had been cleaned up, with the exception of her plate.  She found Richard in the living room, staring blankly at the GNN newscast.  She called his name and when he looked up at her, she somberly told him, “Clark thinks that Luthor may try to come after us tonight – we need to get out of the house.”



Tuesday, October 3, 2006 11:45PM EDT
Clark leaned heavily against the fender of the Audi with Lois and Jimmy while they waited for the evening’s events to unfold.  He found himself exceptionally uncomfortable with the drastic alterations to his plan for handling Luthor’s trap.  However, his concern over Lois, Jason and Richard’s safety had morphed his plan for a quick and easy solo infiltration into an elaborate collaboration.  Once Richard reported the situation to his uncle, Perry had called in the cavalry.  Clark had found both Bill Henderson and Maggie Sawyer waiting with Perry and Lois in the penthouse suite at the Metropolis Paradise Hotel.  Together, they had hashed out the details of ‘Plan B’, which did not include Clark walking blindly into Luthor’s trap and hoping for the best.  Lois had been particularly adamant about that.

Clark sighed in frustration and nervously ran his hand through his hair.

  “You okay, Clark?” Jimmy inquired sincerely.

  “Clark, relax,” Lois added authoritatively.  “Everything is going to be fine.”

“It’s just a little nerve-racking,” Clark complained quietly.  “They’re taking a huge risk.”

“We’ve been through this,” Lois reminded him.  “There’s no way that Maggie is going to put a civilian in harm’s way, and since Robertson kind of resembles you and Luthor’s never met Clark Kent…”

“I know, I know,” Clark conceded.  “It’s just – well, I’m not really comfortable with other people risking their lives on my account.”

“Well, Superman will probably be looking out for him,” Lois pointed out.  “He’s already disabled the booby traps, remember?”

Clark nodded his head absently.  Prior to showing up with Lois at the S.C.U. staging area at the closed strip mall, he’d stepped away and inspected the facility that Kowalski had directed him to and identified two armed bandits waiting inside.  He also discovered a portable generator behind the facility providing power for the lights and an array of cameras, speakers and microphones.  They’d all been wired through a cell phone – apparently Luthor planned to call it in, which didn’t bode well for his intentions.

Even more disturbing were the numerous incendiary devices throughout the building, which were wired into a remote detonator.  He had disabled the detonators with his heat vision, but it had required an extremely tight focus to avoid tipping off Luthor to his presence, leaving only the smallest of pinholes through the building’s sheet metal shell.  The effort had had left him with a mild headache.

“Clark?” Lois prodded, interrupting his ruminations.

He sighed in frustration, and said, “It’s a mistake to underestimate Luthor.  We can’t know that we spotted all of the traps – and for Detective Robertson to be taking this risk…”

“It’s his job,” Lois said sternly.  She pitched her voice to a low whisper and added, “Not even Superman works alone these days.  Don’t forget that.”

Clark halted his reply when Detective Warren Robertson approached him.  The MPD undercover unit had done a remarkable job of disguising him to look like Clark Kent, and both the reporter and his partner found him to be a convincing double.  “Mister Kent?” he inquired.  “We’re going to need you on a headset so you can cue me over my earpiece when I talk to the bad guys.”

“I’ll be prompting you,” Lois interrupted.  “Clark’s too likely to freeze up or lose his dinner if things get dicey.”

Robertson regarded the pair skeptically for a moment before nodding his head and saying, “All right, then, but we still need Clark with us for the final briefing.  If you’ll follow me…”

The journalists obliged, and fell in step with the officer as he guided them over to the S.C.U. Mobile Command Center van.



Detective Robertson drove through the gate of the abandoned industrial plant and parked his car next to the side door.   Just before opening the door of his car, he whispered, “Here we go.”  He exited the vehicle and walked up to the door of the building.

“Don’t forget you’re Clark Kent right now,” Lois whispered in her mike from the Mobile Command Center van.   “That means you need to act nervous and scared.  Now, repeat after me:  Hello? Miss Kowalski?”

“Hello?  Miss Kowalski?” Robertson repeated as he opened the door.

A stocky man promptly pulled Robertson through the door by his coat.  “Get in here,” he commanded.

Robertson recognized the man as Ralph Simpson, thanks to the intel Superman had provided.  The crook had a long rap sheet and was suspected of being hired muscle for various Metropolis criminal figures.  Robertson stumbled and fell to his knees, afterward looking up at Ralph.

“You – you’re not Katherine,” Lois whispered, imitating her partner as best she could.

  “You – you’re not Katherine,” Robertson said apprehensively.  He slowly stood up, grimacing as he did so.

“She couldn’t make it,” another voice replied.  Robertson looked over and identified the muscle-bound accomplice, Shawn Timmons, who was also aiming a pistol at him.

“Wh-What do you want?” Lois whispered, again imitating Clark.  In her normal tone she added.  “Act scared.”

“Wh-What do you want?” Robertson asked meekly, again parroting the words in his earpiece.

“You’ve pissed off the wrong guy,” Ralph answered.  “He’d like a few words with you.”

A moment later, a sinister voice echoed through the empty plant.  “Mister Kent,” Luthor greeted with false cheer.  “You simply must forgive the staff for their impolite greeting – good help is so hard to find these days.”

”It’s Luthor.” Lois whispered.  “Ask him what he wants.”

Robertson nervously said, “Who are you?  What do you want?”

Luthor ignored the question and continued, “You see, Mister Kent, I have a bit of a P.R. problem – and you’re a big part of that problem.”

“Keep acting like you’re scared out of your wits,” Lois instructed, and then added in her ‘Clark’ voice, “You – you’re Lex Luthor, aren’t you?  Well we just report the truth.  If you think we were wrong, why don’t you tell me your side of the story.”

Robertson wrinkled his brow in confusion, and then said nervously, “You – you’re Lex Luthor, aren’t you?  Well, we just report the truth.  If you think it’s wrong, tell me your side.”

“My brilliant plan is beyond your capacity to understand, Mister Kent, and your pitiful paper has made a grave error in questioning my intentions,” Luthor said condescendingly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to set the record straight?” Lois whispered.

“You sure you don’t want to set the record straight?” Robertson repeated.

“There’s little time for that, Mister Kent – we’re at the dawn of a new era.  Unfortunately, you won’t be around to witness the Twilight of the Gods…  Awfully careless of you to wander alone through this part of town after dark…”

“Get out of there!” Sawyer barked into her mike from the van.  “It’s a hit, not a kidnapping!”

“You’re making a mistake,” Robertson replied quietly, slowly slipping his hands inside his coat.

“You’re the one who’s made the mistake, Kent, in your vicious attacks on my character,” Luthor countered sternly. 

“Well if he thinks our coverage has been inaccurate, he can call our complaint department,” Lois replied.

  “Oh… well if you think our coverage has been inaccurate, I could give you the number for our complaint department–”

“It’s too late for that, Mister Kent,” Luthor interrupted.  “Fortunately, my PR problem is about to become history.”

“Oh, shit,” Lois whispered.

“Really?  Well, if everything’s already taken care of, then I’ll be on my way,” Robertson said pleasantly.  He turned towards the door, but Ralph pushed him backwards.

“I don’t think so, Mister Kent,” Luthor responded.  “Pity, really.  As foolish as it was for you to have moved back to the farm years ago, you probably would have lived longer had you stayed there.  Good bye, Mister Kent.  I’ll be sure to offer my condolences to your lovely partner.”  Once Luthor finished speaking, Ralph stepped towards Robertson with his weapon pointed squarely at his chest.

Robertson grabbed Ralph’s gun hand, forcing it off target as his own service revolver came up under the felon’s chin.  He confidently stated, “I think you’ve made a mistake.”

“You’re the one who’s made the mistake,” Shawn said menacing, but just as he squeezed the trigger, the side door blew open, and a blue blur coalesced into the form of Superman, standing between Shawn and the other men.   A moment later, the hit men were disarmed and on the floor with their wrists bound in plastic police handcuffs.

“Stay in character!” Lois commanded into her mike.  “Luthor’s still online and we don’t want to tip our hand.”

“Actually, Luthor’s offline now,” Superman informed Detective Robertson.  “I fried the line with my heat vision when I flew in here – I don’t want to tip my hand to him quite yet.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be elsewhere right now.  Goodbye.”
 


A short time later, the police and fire units had converged on the derelict Baxter Metal Stamping plant, establishing a cordon that they stubbornly refused to allow the Daily Planet journalists to cross.  They were also burdened with a police escort, which Henderson had assigned for their protection.  Jimmy wasn’t so encumbered, and was determined to get some good pictures for Perry as he moved along the police line, searching for better camera angles.

Finally, after an intolerable wait, Maggie Sawyer approached, ducking under the police tape and walking over to them.  “It’s about time,” Lois complained.  “Maggie, what’s the word on this.”

“Looks like a waste of time to me,” Maggie answered in an annoyed tone.  “We’ll be leaving tonight practically empty-handed.”

“Well, this didn’t lead us to Luthor, but we’ve got a couple hoodlums off the streets and new evidence against Luthor for conspiracy to commit murder,” Clark corrected.

“He never really confirmed his identity, and the recording from the wire won’t prove beyond a reasonable doubt that it was him – not without proof that he was here,” Maggie countered.  “I also seriously doubt we’ll be able to tie these flunkies back to him – he’s not that careless.”

“Luthor’s words tonight are still valuable clues, even if it ends up being inadmissible,” Clark pointed out.  “Remember his delusions of grandeur from the psychological profile?  Nothing he said back there was arbitrary.  I suspect that we’ll find some darker meaning behind ‘Twilight of the Gods’ if we look deep enough.”

“Sounds like he’s going after Superman,” Lois speculated.

“Superman’s not a god,” Clark said adamantly.

“Well, no, but that doesn’t mean Luthor wasn’t referring to him,” Maggie countered.  “Imagine his ego-trip at the thought of bringing down a god.”

“That’s encouraging,” Clark said gloomily.

“We won’t let that happen,” Lois declared emphatically.  “Now, if somebody will let us though and maybe give us a statement, we can get our story in some time tonight.”

“It’s still too dangerous in there,” Maggie warned.  “Luthor had the place wired to blow, and even though Superman disabled the detonators, there’s still a ton of explosive material in there.  Nobody goes in until we get the all clear.”

“Is that on the record?” Lois prodded.

“Superman doesn’t want his involvement known,” Maggie reminded her sternly.  After a momentary pause, she irritably asked, “Lane, I know you guys already know as much as we do about all of this, if not more so.  Why are you pestering me?”

“We need official sources,” Lois insisted.  “Come on, Maggie.  You owe me.”

“Oh, don’t go pulling that shit on me,” Maggie replied harshly.

“Um, Captain Sawyer?” Clark interrupted.  “We, um, we don’t need much – just enough official corroboration to convince our legal department that we’re not exposing the paper to a lawsuit.”

Maggie sighed and frustration and then said, “Well, since you asked so nicely…  but don’t attribute any of it directly to me.”



Wednesday, October 4, 2006 12:15AM EDT
“No!” Luthor hollered into his cell phone, exhibiting a fit of temper after the failure of yet another brilliant plan.  Just as his independent contractor was about to plug Kent, the reporter pulled a gun and he’d lost the video signal before he could see the result.  He had immediately sent the self-destruct signal to the plant as a precaution, but Reilly had just reported that the building remained undamaged and was now surrounded by police and fire department vehicles.  The authorities had arrived within minutes after Kent entered the building and had cordoned off the area.  Luthor realized that they could only have responded that quickly if they’d already been staged and ready to go, which meant that Kent was working with them.

The plan had been brilliant:  Lure Kent in and take him out, dump the body in an alley in Suicide Slum, making it look like a mugging gone too far, and torch the old plant to destroy any evidence left behind.  He’d then send Lane a hyperlink to a non-recordable, single-play video of Kent’s death in order to force her to back off, or better yet, publish a retraction.  But somehow the country rube had been unmoved by Kitty’s siren song and shown up with reinforcements.  How’d he see the trap? Luther wondered.  Kitty did her best damsel in distress on the call to Kent, and the script was perfect, with just enough easily corroborated half-truths to be convincing.

He needed more information on the situation and ordered Reilly to get as much video as he could of the scene without attracting attention.  However, it would take time before the men returned with the video for his analysis.  The madman leaned back in his chair, his eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed as he analyzed the scant information.  The cops would never have allowed a civilian to enter the lion’s den unprotected, Luthor concluded.  He had to be wearing a vest – unless Simpson and Timmons really got lucky, it’s safe to assume that Kent is still walking around.  A moment later, Luthor frowned and thought, If he was wearing a vest, he was also wearing a wire, so the cops probably have a recording of our little chat, which could prove inconvenient…

Luthor open his eyes, and reached over his desk for the file folder labeled ‘Clark Kent’ and again purposed it.  He should have been an easy mark, Luthor thought.  How’d he see the trap?  Luthor could only come up with two solutions:  Either Lane had learned of Kent’s pending ‘exclusive’ and had become suspicious; or the reporters were covertly collaborating with the alien and the freak had discovered the trap.  Whatever the cause, the reporter hadn’t backed down.  He’d instead blazed forward, carrying a gun and bringing police backup as he tried to turn the trap around on him.

I still need to shut down these stubborn pests, Luthor pondered.  No point in trying to be discreet after tonight’s debacle, but what to do?  Lane would be too unpredictable if I grabbed her kid and that’d be too risky anyway, with the freak flying around.  I bet if the bitch calls out for help, he’d break speed records flying in to the rescue, despite recent rumors to the contrary.  No, if I want to shut her down, I’ll have to eliminate her before she has a chance to call for help.  Same with Kent.

He set the file aside and lowered his head to his folded hands as he continued to analyze his predicament.  The alien busybody is still too great an unknown, Luthor concluded.  If I send my direct hires to take out Lane and Kent, he could fly into the rescue.  Arming the men with kryptonite isn’t an option – it wouldn’t be nearly as poetic a death as Hagan’s spear, and I will not deprive myself of such richly deserved vengeance.  We might still have a high risk even without the freak, given how closely they seem to be working with the cops, and I don’t dare risk that my direct hires will lead the cops back here to me…

I’ll need new independent contractors to carry out the hit, Luthor decided.  We’ll get them at home, in the middle of the night.  Lane’s house will be easy to get at from the river, but I’ll need a tail on Kent to find out where he’s living…  They’ll never know what hit them.  Pity.  It simply won’t be the same without hearing them beg…

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