LEADERS, LEGENDS AND LORE
Page 2

July 30

Lionel was sitting at the breakfast table, listening to his grandsons and ‘great niece’ chat about their adventures last night. Martha and Anne were making breakfast, having told the cook to take the morning off. Jonathan sat down near Lionel and saw the headlines on the paper he was holding. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Jon sighed. “Has Lex seen this?”

Lionel sipped his coffee before responding. “Not that I am aware of, but he will.” The trio walked in looking refreshed. “And it will not be a welcome wake up, either.”

Lex was immediately accosted by two of his sons, one of whom ended up in his arms, but that didn't prevent him from noticing Lionel and Jonathan whispering. He could tell something was wrong. Cocking an eyebrow, Lex asked, “What? Spill it. What's going on?”

Lionel turned the paper so that he could see the headline:

              Luthor Leaves Minerva to Pursue Agenda in Senate

Lex reached for the paper, scanning Lois Lane's account of the inextricably-bound press conference and his surprise announcement at the Gala. The next article was a profile of the Luthor family, and a final piece on the front page referred to other articles in the paper. The front page of the business section had a biography of Tristan that detailed his career -- or rather, the portion of it that was public knowledge. The paper's crowning achievement, though, was an Op Ed piece that sermonized on the dangers of too much wealth controlling too much power without mentioning the words Lex or Luthor even once. The implication, however, was crystal clear.

With Ben in his arms, Lex controlled his response carefully. “Have to love the Daily Planet.” Lex deposited Ben in a chair and began to read the articles more closely. Lex found his chair by instinct alone, and was completely aware of Whitney placing a plate of toast and fresh fruit in front of him. “Thank you.”

Whitney smiled at him. “Not a problem. Is the front page article by Lois Lane?"

Lex nodded. "Yes."

"She's a very driven woman from what I was able to gather. Chris said she never made a scene and was devilishly subtle about it, but she made at least one attempt to go through every door leading in and out of the public rooms."

"She kept security on its collective toes, but I don't think she ever caught on that Chris had people subtly deflecting her every time she tried to get to Lex," Clark commented as he settled in with a plate he'd filled at the buffet on the sideboard. In the blink of an eye, Ben was in his lap, scavenging a piece of sausage. “Hey! I was going to eat that.”

Ben smiled at his Poppy. “I’ll have Nana get you another one.” Ben scampered down and hugged on Anne and Martha, then made a beeline for an empty chair by Elsa and Hamilton.

Clark rolled his eyes and rejoined the other conversation. “Ms. Lane also had a few chats with people--” Clark sipped his coffee. “--including Armitage.” In a moment, his mother handed him a small plate with a few sausages to replace the one that Ben had swiped.

Whitney groaned and looked at Lionel. “Has Armitage always been such a…a...”

“Snake?” Lionel offered. “No, but he has his masters. He also has his wealth and the insurance company he helped build. He is very well connected.”

Still buried in the paper, Lex studied a photo array from the night before. “Sebastian Shaw was talking to Bruce. That had to be fun. Hmmm... I never saw Oliver Queen. Nice to know he showed.”

Clark watched as Anne and his mom sat down and ate next to the kids. It never ceased to amaze him how close his family was. The boys loved their grandparents. He turned to his dad. “What are you doing today?”

Jon chuckled. “The lovely Elsa has asked Lionel and I to take her riding. As, and I quote, ‘My horse is here and I never get to ride much.’ Then I think I need to look over some of the Praetorian's and Royals' income statements. Thankfully, the Royals are winning and that means a nice full baseball stadium.” Before Jonathan could finish, Philip walked up to him.

“Excuse me, Grandpa. Can we go to a baseball game soon?”

Lex smothered a smile and glanced from Jonathan to Lionel. “Philip, I think your grandfathers would be delighted to take you and your brothers to a game soon.” Lex could not cover his smile at the simultaneous death rays Jon and Lionel shot him.

Whitney did laugh, but moved to change the subject. “Lex, about the news... What are you going to do?"

Lex sobered. “Nothing I can do until Lisa tells me how to move the media campaign. And I still have to file.”

Washington

“What the Hell does this mean?!” demanded Sen. Jacob Fromm. He had arrived in his office this morning to find that the Washington Post, New York Times, and Wall Street Journal that all had articles about Minerva’s change in leadership and Lex Luthor’s decision to run for the Senate. Each one cited Luthor as having accused him of lacking insight and leadership ability.

Jacob was in his mid-forties, had ties to the conservative wing of the Kansas Party, and had known Governor Ken Longworthy for most of his adult life. He was a rank and file worker bee, picked for his connections in the state and around the country. Everyone --including Jacob-- considered his election to the long-held Republican Senate seat a done deal. Luthor's announcement changed everything.

The immediate problem was the lack of financial power to fight a Luthor in the state. He looked around the staff that he had inherited from the late Sen. Voss. “I am going to need Dick Simons, ASAP.” 

Sen. Fromm’s Chief of Staff handed him a paper. “It would appear that The Daily Planet was less than impressed.”

Jacob read the articles but found them to be even-handed at best. “At least they downplayed his attack on me.” He was concerned about the politics and how it would play. He had a minor war chest. Longworthy was running again, but that might not help. Metropolis now accounted for more than half of all votes cast in Kansas. The current Mayor was a Democrat and very popular among his constituency. “Find out what the Governor thinks. I need to launch a defense of the seat before Luthor gets traction.”

Topeka

Gov. Longworthy read the accounts from papers about the Gala, still smarting from the lack of invitation. ‘Of course Luthor would snub me. I don’t belong to his father’s old network of cronies and sycophants. Hell, he is a crafty asshole. This could get messy.

The Governor picked up his phone and called the state party chair to demand that he make an appearance for lunch. “Hell yes, it's about Luthor," he barked into the phone. "Nobody has the money to take that son-of-a-bitch head on."

"Which ticket?" the chair asked.

"It looks like he will be running as a damn Democrat, which gives us time. If he was running as a Republican, the President would tell us to shut up and let him run. Luthor money poured into the Pesticide Ban campaign. He's an environmentalist. Come down here and we will talk. This changes everything!”

He slammed down the phone and walked over to his office window. Below him, a gardener was trimming hedges around the state house lawn. Everything down there was peaceful and green, a far cry from the panic what was undoubtedly gripping Washington at this moment. A Luthor in the Halls of Power was not something that had been expected. Worse, he was actually popular in some circles. “DAMN!”

Longworthy caught sight of the reflection of his chief of staff and turned, hoping beyond hope that the man was coming to give him good news. He could use some about now.

Smallville

Whitney followed Clark to his research office. They had yet to talk, and Whitney knew Clark was hiding something. He waited for Clark to sit down. “Okay, my love, tell me.”

Clark looked down, worrying his thumbnail. “Whitney…I can’t do this anymore. The world is falling apart in ways that the people of this planet can't even imagine, but I can change things. I can make a difference. I have to take an active role.” Clark hung his head, then leaned lightly into the hand that caressed his cheek.

Whitney sat on the arm of Clark's chair and bent to kiss him. “I know love, I know. But we can’t take that risk just yet.” Clark pulled back, but Whitney reached out to keep him close. “Listen Clark, I agree that you can do more, but Lex is now in the public. We have to be careful.”

Clark leaned over and hugged Whitney. “So much is happening right now. To simply wait is the worst option.”

“No, to be rash is the worst option. Anti-mutant sentiments are growing stronger. Senator Kelly and his allies’ voices grow louder. I am with you my love, so is Lex, but we can’t win that battle yet. Lionel and your father are the ones who don’t want you to expose yourself. The others follow that lead.”  

Clark sighed. “I am tired of the same old arguments.”

Whitney stood and pulled Clark into a full body hug, kissing him again before he told him, “Look, Lex is going to be very out in the open. We have to be careful, but I think you can do more of what you have been doing.”

Clark blushed fiercely. “You knew?”

Whit laughed and kissed Clark again, slowly and deeply. “Of course. Lex and I both know. You do what you can and we support that." Whitney grinned. "Well, we support it to the extent that we can hide it from the others.”

Clark smiled for the first time. “Now we have competing forces -- Lex’s desire to save the country and my desire to save the world. What are you going to save?”

Whitney grinned. “Our children from being spoiled by their grandparents."

“Far too late to worry about that!” Clark said with a laugh as Whitney disappeared out the door.


Jeff was in his office looking over the House accounts when Lex walked in without knocking and sat down. “Hello, Lex.”

“Jeff. I need to create a political action committee and also a campaign treasury.”

Jeff opened a desk drawer and handed Lex two files. “The top one has all the documents we need to form the treasury--it just needs your signature and a few details filled in. The other one has your filing papers for the Federal Election Commission.”

Lex chuckled as he flipped through a few pages. “Am I so predictable?”

Jeff laughed as he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk. “I am your lead attorney and one of your closest advisors. It's my job to anticipate these things. Besides Whitney clued me in three weeks ago that you were restless and looking for a new challenge. Plus Tristan and Lionel have been discussing the LFK proxy issue with me.”

Lex groaned. “I should have known Whitney would say something. I sometimes forget that my lover is also your brother. Is anything safe from your knowledge?”

Jeff laughed again. “Yes, but I can guess a lot of it.”

Lex picked up on the mischievousness behind that leer. “You are incorrigible. Now I know where Ben gets it from.”

Jeff chuckled. “Not me! Ben gets it from you three.” His tone changed and he straightened. “How much are you willing to spend?”

Lex looked at the figures Jeff had been reviewing. “No more than $30 million. That is $5 a person in the state.”

Jeff nodded and made a few notes. “I’ll get moving on that. You need to get a staff in place.” Jeff fixed Lex with a stern gaze. “Not me either. Too much on my plate right now. Maybe Lisa would like to do it. She has free time on her hands.”

Metropolis

Lois's nose was only inches from her computer screen as she reviewed her notes for follow up leads, the most promising being Brian Armitage. VR software and a nifty story editing program had transformed her voice tapes into digital note cards that she was busily organizing into a master sequence. A body materialized over the top of her monitor groaned when she followed the torso up to find Jimmy Olsen. “What do you want Olsen?”

“You're going to be really unattractive in glasses," he offered tonelessly.

Lois gritted her teeth. "What do you--"

Jimmy ignored the overtly unfriendly tone and handed her a file and a CD. "These are hard copies of some of the pictures and the corresponding images on disc. I am having the third and fourth chips processed right now.” He turned and left without waiting for a reply.

Lois began thumbing through the photos, noting that Jimmy had not included a single shot of any of the rooms, only of the people. She rifled through her files, found the guest list, and began matching names with faces. ‘Bruce said to look at who was talking to whom, so I will look. I know there are stories here, but focus on the big picture Lane. Focus on the Luthors.

Opening the CD, she began to organize a storyboard. The pictures had time stamps that could be edited out for the paper, but they were enormously helpful in allowing her to add cross-referenced images to her digital note-cards, all in an effort to give her the context of the conversations that she observed first hand. She was going to find the real story here, no matter how deep she had to dig. 'The Pulitzer will make it all worth it.
 
Smallville

When Lionel determined that there were not enough pieces to re-create the palace in Lego-miniature, Ben and Wes were disappointed but undaunted. They began redesigning the existing structure and built until every last Lego at their disposal had been pressed into service.

Wallowing in their sense of accomplishment they ran off to ask if they could go swimming, but Philip remained behind, studying his brothers' workmanship and ingenuity. He didn't feel like swimming; instead, he wanted to spend time on his computer and see if his recent moves on the ‘mini-market’ were paying off yet. He had just made it into his room when one of the dogs began prodding him lightly in the back with her cold, wet nose. “Duchess! No. Go bother Wes or Ben, I’m busy.”

In his room next door, Hamilton was repeating the same thing to Mohiam. “Go downstairs, Mohiam. Elsa and I are busy. No, we don’t want to play.”

Rachel was just passing the boys' rooms headed for the playroom when she saw both dogs trot purposefully into the hall and head directly to the stairs, just as they had been told. ‘What in the world?!’ she thought, fascinated that the dogs could be controlled with such ease. She stepped to Philip's door and found him booting up his computer. She rapped lightly on the facing.

"Hello, Miss Rachel."

“Good afternoon, Philip. Tell me something. Are the dogs always that well behaved?”

Philip looked up at her thoughtfully. “Um, I think so, except if we tell one of them to do opposite things when we are fighting," he confessed. "Then Daddy, Papa, or Poppy will get mad at us. We don’t do that much anymore.”

Rachel stared at him for a moment.

"May I help you with something?" Philip offered when she didn't move.

"Uh, no. Thank you. I heard that the castle had been completed and wanted to see the results."

"It's in the playroom," he said helpfully, then began opening his stock portfolio. He wanted to make his Grandpa Lionel proud, and his parents, as well.

Rachel moved on to the playroom, still digesting this new piece of the jumbled-up jigsaw she'd landed in. Four children with three fathers and no biological mother living under the same palatial roof with three sets of beaming grandparents. That was odd enough, but then there was the riddle of Poppy, Daddy, and Papa... Two of the "fathers" were almost certainly a couple, but which two? Rachel had more or less assumed that Whitney Fordman and Lex Luthor were together, but how did Clark Kent fit into the equation? Very little of anything was making sense to Rachel yet.

Though she made it a point never to pry into the private lives of her employers, she couldn't help but be curious. And surely, a little curiosity couldn't hurt anything, as long as it didn't harm the family tabbies.


Lisa settled into the chair opposite Lex and smiled. “Well, I have the outline for you. Your campaign needs to focus on your youth and experience. It's a powerful combination that illustrates that you are open to new possibilities. So how do you like, ‘Lex Luthor, Tomorrow’s Leader Today’?”

Lex stared at her for a moment. “Sounds rather…trite.”

Lisa laughed and nodded her head. “Yes, but it’s a campaign, not rocket science. We can refine some variations, but we need something visible and memorable out there now. I can only imagine the panic attacks that are going on in Topeka and Washington. By the way, nice article by Lois Lane. Some Society reporter she was.”

Lex leaned back. “The Planet likes to take a rather harsh view of what I am up to. The fact that I own the Inquisitor and have turned it into a legitimate rival means the Planet plays an adversarial role. So, we start with radio?”

She nodded again. “We hit the Metropolis, Wichita, and Topeka airwaves first. Manhattan and Lawrence are going to be where we see if we can get some ground staff. College students come cheap and both those campuses are loaded. We need a budget.”

“Jeff and Mike Ross are taking care of that. What I need right now is a campaign chair.”

Lisa smirked. “Not I. Why not Bill? He’s got time on his hands at the moment.”

Lex shook his head for a moment. “No, can’t be Bill, as much as I would like to use him. He still holds a seat on Minerva and that sends the wrong signal.”

Lisa sighed and looked down at her notes. “You need a Chair and a spokesperson. Like, yesterday. All your opponents will be coming at you with both guns blazing, Lex. You do not want to be standing still when that happens."

“Okay, I’ll get moving and have a staff in place by Monday. For now, I guess I will use LFK staff in town to handle inquiries.”

Lisa cautioned, “Make sure all those expenses are noted. This may be privately financed, but you opponents will be looking for any means possible to use your money against you.”

Lex chuckled. “Can't wait to see how my Republican opponents justify that. You're a real optimist.”

Lisa laughed and stood up. “I’ve followed a few campaigns of the wealthy. Jon Corzine and Michael Huffington each had different results after spending millions on Senate races." She sobered. "You realize that the family secret might not stay secret for long.”

Lex grew angry. “I will not let Clark’s secret be compromised.”

Lisa raised a hand to signal Lex to stop. “No, your bedroom arrangements. Clark’s secret is not on my mind. This could get ugly, Lex. How are you going to handle the ‘gay' question?”

“There is little stigma attached to being gay now, since more than a dozen professional athletes have come out, not to mention the biggest star in Hollywood.”

Lisa laughed. “How can I forget? I suppose you have the statistics on gay politicians, too?"

Lex sobered. “Three Governors and more than a dozen House Members. Scores of local and state officials are out in the open. Being 'outed' as a homosexual doesn't bother me.”

"Then why not pre-empt any possible scandal and come out?"

"Because my private life is mine. And my family's. It doesn't affect my ability to lead, and I'm going to stand or fall on that principle."

“But the fact that there are three of you...”

Lex nodded. “There are few scandals now when it comes to sex. More than half of all elected officials are divorced. But my situation is unique.”

“Then why risk it?”

Lex rubbed his head and looked out the window. “There is so much that needs to be done, Lisa. But who out there can claim to be independent? I can't be bought. If I make it to Washington, I'll owe favors to no one. I think I can make a real difference, and the people who love me are willing to risk much for the future.”

Lisa rose and kissed Lex. “Yes, we are. You have all our support. Just be careful. Many things can go wrong.”

Lex watched her walk out. “I know.” Lex whispered to the empty air.


Rachel was looking over the notes left by the previous nanny/governess and found that her methods had not suited the boys at all. Their Stanford-Binet IQ tests had them years above their chronological ages. Hamilton’s math skills were extraordinary and Philip’s weren’t far behind. Wes and Ben should not be reading at the level that was noted, but it was confirmed in multiple tests. ‘I am going to have my hands full keeping them focused and challenged at the same time.

Looking over things she decided that she needed to see exactly how advanced they were and what they did not know. By all indications, the boys were already getting classical musical education. She saw notes that Lionel Luthor liked to play for the boys and that Philip was trying his hand at the piano. She already had an inkling that Hamilton liked science and math. Ben and Wes, while very smart, did not seem to have found a drive to apply their formidable intellects yet. She decided that would be her job. Philip had written a few short stories and he and Hamilton had built a hologram. ’Simply amazing that they are so advanced for being so young.

It was going to take no effort to get the boys to want to learn, but to maintain discipline was the major challenge. She laughed when she saw the essays that the boys had written in May: “What I Want To Be.” Philip wanted to be President, Hamilton wanted to run S.T.A.R. Labs, Ben was waffling between being an astronaut or a magician, and Wes wanted to play baseball or football. ’Well boys, I will see what I can do to get you on your way to your dreams. And possibly inspire some new ones.’ 


When Whit walked into the Master bedroom, Clark was already under the comforter reading a book and Lex was at the desk looking over some papers. The kids were tucked securely in their own beds, but it was inevitable that sometime during the night, each set of twins would end up in the same bed.

“You two look relaxed.”

Clark smiled at Whitney and patted the bed next to him. “I am very relaxed, though I would like some company. Lex is still reviewing stuff.”

Lex pushed back from the desk, dropped his robe, and slid into the bed while Whitney changed. “I told you that I would come over once we were all ready.” He kissed Clark and held one of his hands. “I love you.”

Clark smiled at Lex and pulled him closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” Whitney slid into bed. “Come here you.” He pulled Whit close and wrapped all of them in a hug. “Some days are good by virtue of being together.”

Whitney kissed Lex and then Clark. “Yes. Shall we snuggle and watch a mindless movie?” He felt their assent, and all it took was a quick command into the nightstand touch pad and an enormous flat-screen plasma TV rose out of a chest at the end of the bed. The movie began automatically.

Clark burrowed into his pillows and settled back with Lex and Whitney cuddled close.


July 31, Costa Rica

Damien was looking over the news and threw his glass against the wall in disgust. "SHIT!" 'That son-of-a-bitch is going to run for the Senate!' As much as Damien wanted to harm Lex and Lionel, pragmatic considerations had to be observed. His project was far more important and useful. After some heavy searching by his associates, he found out that his former colleague; Dominic Haynes had been killed in Prague. The circumstances had been mysterious at best.

That search had turned up useful information. The new Russian syndicate, after a gang-war in 2003-2004, was now far more organized and ruthless. They also had moved into a number of very profitable ventures that were ignored by the current government. Contact had been sporadic over the years, but the Russians had been able to provide a pipeline of quality arms for the Cartel and also to the rebels in Arabia. The Saudi Kingdom had fallen after a revolution in 2005 and oil prices had not come down since. Current per barrel prices hovered in the fifty dollar range and the Cartel had been happy with that number, since they controlled production out of Peru and Venezuela.

Unfortunately, Lex's company had been able to use its synthetic products to keep the American economy from imploding under the weight of exorbitant energy prices. Regardless, the Cartel had achieved part of its goal in reducing American influence in Latin America and they had a number of allies around the globe.

Damien muttered as he continued to read about Lex and Minerva. "Everywhere I turn, Lex is ruining things for us. Minerva had to have an answer and help moderate oil prices with its stupid synthetic fuel. Have been unable to touch them since 2003. I think it is time to try again."

Washington

Henry was working on a weekend; being the Deputy National Security Advisor made for few days off. The mountain of paper in front of him would not clear itself. He had been monitoring events in many locations through the FBI's Special Hate Crime's Unit. The reports and raw data kept him up-to-date on the Anti-Mutant movement, which had grown into a major force. Since 2003, when the first mutant killings had occurred, more than three dozen had died.

Henry watched the movement known as "The Friends of Humanity" with great interest. The Senate was debating how to deal with them and the Courts were issuing conflicting rulings in different parts of the country. So far the White House had declined to take a firm stand since Senator Kelly was taking the lead on the issue.

Henry looked at the file on top of the pile and found a report on that subject that had been compiled by Asst. Director Chet Desmond. The task force had been his since the beginning but the Senate has not happy with the results. Senator Kelly had been fighting to have Desmond replaced in order to have someone who subscribed to his views on the matter.

Henry knew that his patrons had an agenda, thwarting the plans for a National Genetic database for years, but they also continued to aid Kelly as often as possible. It made no sense to him but it was not his call to make.

He pulled another file and saw the shape of a common Latin American policy forming from several countries. 'Whatever is going on, Panama will be next. I need to talk to Valerie, I don't want to create a policy issue, we have too many of those already.'

Aug 1, Smallville

The family had remained together for the extended weekend to celebrate Philip and Hamilton's birthday. The actual birthday was Monday, but Lex thought it best to celebrate while everyone was in town and could share in the fun. Philip did not care much, he was seven and just wanted to enjoy the day swimming and talking to the adults.

Clark walked into Philip's bedroom and sat down next to him. "What's this I hear about you not wanting a birthday cake? Hamilton doesn't mind."

Philip looked down before glancing at Clark. "Cause Poppy, I think that I am getting too old to have cake and ice cream."

Clark bit back a smile. He lacked the overt telepathic and empathic abilities of Lex and Whitney, but he could read his kids just as well as they could, his bond with them was very tight. He knew that Philip was fighting an internal battle over this. "Okay, but if Hamilton wants some, I think you should get some as well. Papa had birthday cake," Clark pointed out to his oldest son.

Philip wanted to argue but Clark lifted him up and hugged him tight. "Okay Poppy, if you say so. Can the cake be just like Papa's?"

A hint of a pout formed on Philip's face, and Clark kissed on his forehead. "Of course it can. We love you kiddo. We just want you to have some fun. So, let’s go bother your Nanas and see if they will make us breakfast."

Philip tried to look sternly at Clark, but had to laugh at his Poppy. "Maybe we will have pancakes today."


Justin Daniels surveyed his newly-rented garage apartment. It was a dump. No doubt about it.

"What the fuck am I thinking?"

This was a futile adventure, but he wanted some answers and all the signs pointed to Smallville.

All the signs. "Yeah, right." All the signs consisted of an eight-year-old cryptic note that had just come into his possession. He never would have known about it if his mother had not remarried and sent him the box that of Daniels family memorabilia.

It was all that he had from his Uncle Nathan, whose death had never been properly explained. Uncle Nathan, had worked as a Special Forces operative before going into private security practice; Uncle Nathan, who was the only father Justin had ever known. Uncle Nathan, whose mysterious, unexplained death had left a crater in Justin's life. And his heart.

That note was his only key to unlocking the mystery, and all Justin wanted was for the whole thing to make sense. He was ready to do whatever it took to find the truth.


The family was again in the family room, this time in the early afternoon so all the residents of Metropolis could return early enough to settle in. Elsa was trying to convince her parents that she could stay at the palace for the week. Her uncles would not mind, she argued. "Mommy, I'll be good. I like it here."

Lisa sighed and remained stern. "You know that you have class tomorrow just like the boys do. I'm sorry. We will see them again soon."

Elsa pouted and flounced over to sit next to Hamilton. "Mommy said no."

Hamilton pouted as well. "But--" He frowned for a moment before deciding that further argument was futile. " Okay. Want some cake?"

She perked up and they headed over to the cake table and each grabbed a second slice.

Philip was sitting down looking at the book he got from Lionel on the history of empires. It had a wonderful array of maps, which had always intrigued Philip. Beside him was the new laptop that his fathers had given him and some of the other cool things he received for his birthday. Occasionally he cast a covetous glance at the chemistry set Hamilton had received, but he knew Hamilton loved to play with stuff like that so he couldn’t begrudge him the gift.

Wes crept up behind Philip and captured his neck in a big bear hug. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you, Wes," Philip replied, trying to pretend he wasn't choking.

"Why don't we have hats?"

Lex was standing only a few feet behind them and Philip's response captured his full attention. "I did not want any silly hats, getting too old for that stuff."

Lex wanted to laugh at Weston's deflated, "Oh," but didn't. He could tell that Wes was offended, but the blue-eyed moppet made it a point not to fight with Philip. 'Very often,' Lex reminded himself.

Whitney and Clark were watching the kids chat and play, while the adults relaxed. It was the last day before the chaos began. Tomorrow Lex was flying to Topeka to officially file to run in the primary. A Press Conference would be held in Smallville later in the afternoon, and their lives might never be the same after that. They were watching Lex trying not to laugh at Philip and Wes when they heard something that made the whole room went silent. Whitney looked at Lionel. "What was that again?"

Lionel looked over at them. "This morning the White House Chief of Staff, Dick Simons, was began building the case that there is no reason for people to be afraid to share their genetic structure with the government and that those who are afraid must have something to hide."

Lex looked around the room and sat down. In moments, Hamilton and Elsa were squeezed into the chair next to him, bracketing him like bookends. He pulled Hamilton onto his lap and ruffled Elsa's hair as he observed, "They're shifting strategies, fishing for something. This Mid-term election could change the entire political landscape for the Republicans. It is a wedge issue. Michael Ross is going to be the general chair of my campaign, but the advice I trust most will come from this room." Lex looked at Clark and nodded. Clark left the room. "If any of you have noticed, Whitney, Clark, and I wear a bracelet with a small white jewel. They are Kryptonian in nature and design. They are tracking devices and also communications devices. They are impossible to remove. The three of us have talked about this for years but I think it would be wise if each of you had one as well. The jewel would look like onyx."

Silence fell over the room until Philip walked over and looked at Lex. "Do we get a bracelet Papa?"

"Yes, Philip. You and your brothers all get bracelets, but they are not ready just yet. You'll have to wait a day or two."

Elsa tugged on Lex's shirt. "I want one, Uncle Lex. They look so cool."

Small conversations began throughout room, but Lex focused on Elsa. "You will have to ask your parents, sweetie. That's their decision."

Clark walked back in the room with a metal case. He set it on a table but did not open it. "It's not mandatory," he told them. "We are only asking. Consider it the last line of defense that we have to protect you."

All eyes went to Lionel as he walked to the case and opened it. He lifted a thin metal bracelet and slid it over his right wrist. "I have been kidnapped before and it was a most unpleasant experience." Everyone watched in amazement as the bracelet shrunk to fit his arm perfectly. "Neat trick."

"They adjust to your body whenever necessary to accommodate swelling from a sprained wrist, growth spurts, weight loss or gain...anything at all," Whitney informed them.

"I'm in," Jonathan said. He looked down at his wife. "Martha?"

She nodded. "Me, too."

The consensus was unanimous. In moments everyone had a form-fitting bracelet except the four boys. Elsa was showing Hamilton how nice it looked on her, and Hamilton was admiring it politely.

Clark walked over and rifled Hamilton's deep auburn hair. "You and your brothers will have a bracelet soon." His warm gaze encompassed all of his sons. "Just like Daddy, Poppy, and me."

The boys ' glum faces brightened and they went back to eating cake or looking at gifts, but most of the Metropolis residents began to circulate, saying their good-byes. Elsa whined that she and Hamilton had not even had a chance to look at the chemistry set. That simply made her parents move faster. Hugs were exchanged all around and the boys headed to their playroom to see if the new hologram game Hamilton got was any fun.


New York

The Hellfire Club mansion, located on Fifth Avenue on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, radiated power and influence. It was a central gathering place for the wealthy and powerful, steeped in centuries of tradition. Bruce Wayne walked up to the door with all the dignity he could marshal. Harry Osborne and Sebastian Shaw had cornered him at the Luthor Gala and pressed him into accepting a dinner invitation at the Club. His decision not to bring a date had been wise one in retrospect. ‘At least I only have to worry about myself tonight.

Liveried servants greeted Bruce at the door.  “Good evening, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Shaw, Ms. Frost, and Mr. Wyngard are expecting you.”

Bruce was led through the mansion and taken to a private dining room on the second floor. Waiting for him at the door was Oliver Queen, an Old Money blueblood like himself who was a Hellfire member. “Oliver, I didn't know you were going to be here.”

The blond-haired gentleman in his early thirties smiled as he shook Bruce’s hand. “Sebastian asked me to join this little soiree. Besides, I didn't get to talk to you at Luthor's gala. Come on. Let me introduce you to Jason Wyngard.”

He escorted Bruce into the room and performed the introduction.

“Mr. Wayne, I’ve heard so much about you," Wyngard said as he lightly pumped Bruce's hand. "I regret to inform you that Harry Osborne will be unable to make it this evening. Oliver was kind enough to take his place.”

Bruce saw Sebastian Shaw and Emma Frost enter the room. In moments they were all seated around the table and the conversation turned to politics and Lex’s announcement.

Aug 2, Smallville

Lex came down to the breakfast nook in the suit he would be wearing to the state capitol. While he was filing his intention to run this morning, his newly appointed campaign manager, Michael Ross, would be meeting with Lex’s political advisors to review Lisa's ad strategy and plan the best method of their message to the people.

Lex walked into the nook and gave Philip and Hamilton a hug, a kiss, and a "Happy Birthday" before greeting Ben and Wes.

“Papa? When do we get to do our charts?” Philip asked as Lex made the rounds.

Lex looked at Clark and Whitney, who were already at the table eating. “Shall we do it this morning?”

"Do you have time?" Whitney asked.

Hamilton tugged on Lex's trousers. “Please???”

Lex looked from his watch to his son's green eyes and knew it was hopeless. Every one of the boys had Clark’s pout, even Philip, though he rarely used it. It didn't matter how tight his schedule was this morning--he couldn't say no to that pout. “Okay, everybody upstairs. It’s birthday chart time.”

Four sets of cheers went up and breakfast was forgotten. The guys simply smiled and followed them up to the playroom. It was a birthday tradition since Philip and Hamilton had turned one that they could get their heights measured on their birthdays. Now, it was a twice a year thing on Ben and Wes’ birthday as well. A colorful wall chart had rows and columns for each of the boys and their respective ages, and their heights were noted where the grids intersected. Now that Philip and Hamilton were seven, the chart was beginning to fill up.

Clark grabbed the measuring tape and the dry pen that was used for the white board. “Who’s first?”

Wes walked up to Clark. “Me, Poppy.”

Clark smiled and motioned Wes against the board. He made a mark for Wes, and repeated it for each boy. He motioned to Whitney who was writing it all down. “Weston is 47 and a quarter inches tall. Bennett is 47 and three-eighths inches tall. Hamilton is 51 and half inches tall. And Philip is 51 and a half inches tall.”

Whitney filled in the chart and could see that Wes was now only an eighth of an inch shorter than his twin. All of them were going to be at least as tall as he was -- 6’3”  -- but they might even challenge Clark, who stood 6’5 ½”.  “Okay guys, get ready for class with Miss Rachel and we will see you at lunch."

Topeka

Lex hated traveling by helicopter; the Shuttle was one thing, but helicopters another matter entirely. Getting off with Jeff, he walked to a waiting car to take him the Secretary of State’s office so he could file his papers as a candidate for the Democratic primary. A car was waiting for the two of them and whisked them to the State building. Lex saw that the Press was not around and that was perfect. Already the ‘Establishment' was trying to paint him as a radical and he didn't want to face reporters until his press conference where he had a better chance of controlling the spin.

Amazingly, it appeared that all three of the no-name candidates who had populated the Democratic field in early campaigning were considering withdrawing. If that happened it left only the former Attorney General, Alex Trahan, had made plenty of enemies in the Democratic Party in the last three years.

The Clerk looked at Lex with an awe that she couldn't keep out of her face or voice. “Okay Mr. Luthor, I need you to sign at the three noted places and I need a filing fee of $200.”

Lex signed the documents and handed the Clerk his personal credit card. Two minutes later Lex and Jeff were back in the car headed for the helicopter. They were just climbing in when Jeff’s cell phone buzzed. The conversation was short and terse.

“Well, it seems as though the it will be a two person race in the Democratic primary," Jeff announced as he buckled himself in. "Everyone has withdrawn but Trahan."

"Good. That will allow us to keep the race focused."

"Lex, all signs say that the Trahan camp is going to try everything they can to stop you," Jeff warned him.

Lex took a deep breath as the helicopter lifted off. Conquering his instinctive surge of panic, he smiled at Jeff. “There is more of my father in me than people know. Let them start a fight they can’t finish.”

Smallville

The boys were sitting in the classroom, heads bowed, their faces a mask of intense concentration in the silence. The cavernous room, which was located on the floor above the boys' living quarters, had been designed to be interactive and fuel their desire for knowledge. Around the central classroom, there were science stations for exercises in everything from astronomy to zoology; state-of-the-art computers were capable of accessing private and university databases research databases worldwide. One offshoot of the classroom was a circular library that housed the complete spectrum of the world's great literature.

Rachel had been overwhelmed when she first walked in; the feeling hadn't gone away when she reviewed what the boys had been studying--much of it on their own. Now, she was studying them as they took a new test that researchers at Harvard and Brown had put together, in cooperation with the American Pediatric Society. It was different from anything they had taken before and that was a good thing. These kids craved stimulation, and standardized tests would likely bore the life out of them.

Rachel observed them as they each read a section and then calculated the answer or figured out the logical explanation. She was amazed when one-by-one each boy switched writing hands. All four were ambidextrous! She couldn't wait to see the changes in their penmanship after the switch. ’Teaching the Fordmans is going to be a treat.’ 


Lex pulled up to the SCDC building, part of the office space that was being turned into campaign headquarters. He smiled when Michael greeted him. “Well sir, the Press Conference is set for this afternoon. We will be using the parking lot down the street--they are finishing the platform and decorations now.”

"Good." Lex glanced at his watch. “Where are Keith and Alice?”

Michael pointed to the Talon across the street. “Getting coffee. They had a two-hour video-conference with Lisa this morning. I've had a team working on your website all weekend and it will be will be up before the Press gets here. Oh, and Pete said not to let Clark anywhere near the campaign because he has no idea how to canvas.”

Lex laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Clark had been summoned back to Smallville at the end of Pete’s junior year to help place flyers everywhere announcing Pete’s campaign for Class President. Chloe and Clark had been respectful, whereas Pete had plastered mailboxes, telephone poles, store windows, and Church bulletin boards. Pete had lost that election on the grounds that he had annoyed everyone in the town.

Michael laughed as well and went off to supervise the staffers he had worked at hiring since Lex had drafted him on Saturday. His two years as a lobbyist in Washington made him ideal for this job -- that and the close family ties he had with the Kents and Fordmans.

Washington

Dick Simons had been White House Chief of Staff since 2004. He had directed Pres. Johnson’s reelection campaign and also eased the transition from Johnson to Hughes following President Johnson’s cerebral hemorrhage. He was the consummate insider, knowing what it took to get things done inside the Beltway, and he knew when to fight.

Unfortunately, the Kansas Situation, as it was now being called, was something he could have done without. He addressed the assembled gathering which included the Senatorial Campaign Chair, the Republican National Committee Chair, and three key political advisors.

“With Luthor in the race on the Democratic ticket, Kansas is no longer a solid state for us, but Voss’ seat has been in Republican hands for longer than anyone can remember. We have that in our favor, at least. We need to figure out how to attack Luthor.”

Storm Carver, the Senatorial Campaign director, looked at some data he brought along. “Dick, we have to tread carefully. Luthor actually has a following not just in Kansas, but across the country. Generic polls show that he has a base of ten percent to support him as President. And those numbers were generated by open response, not with pollsters reciting a laundry list of names for them to choose from. No other public figure came close to that.”

Mitch Dorgan, the National Committee Chair, scowled at the people in the room. “He is not some damn saint! We have to hit him hard and fast.”

"No!" Dick Simons raised his hand to halt the tirade. “Jacob is going to have to go toe-to-toe with Luthor. We need to focus our efforts on solidifying our platform and counteracting Luthor's as it emerges. Let the Press dig for dirt and we'll keep our eyes open for something we can exploit. In the meantime, Kansas moves up on the funding list, for now. If Luthor moves into a big lead we cut our losses.”

Carver and Dorgan did not look happy, but the main consultant, John Norris, quickly agreed. “Dick is correct. Kansas could become a major waste of resources or it could become a key victory for us. Jacob will be indebted to us and perhaps we can maintain some control over the Party.”

Glances were exchanged and the battle plan approved. Now they just had to get money to flow to Kansas and hope that Lex Luthor was not much of a politician.

Smallville

Lex walked out to the platform, the summer heat making the reporters sweat. Lex, though, looked fresh and refreshed when he took the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen. Today begins the journey for me and for the citizens of Kansas. It will mark a moment in time when a clear choice was placed before the voters." He officially declared his candidacy, then opened the forum. "So questions?”
 
Lex scanned the crowd of dozens of reporters and broadcast news crews. Spotting Lois Lane, he decided to take the plunge. “Yes, Lois Lane, I believe.”

Lois could not believe she would get the first question. “Why should the voters of Kansas send you to the Senate?”

Lex gathered his thoughts for a second and then responded. “Short answer: Quality of life issues and practical policies. We're a state of enormous diversity and there is great strength in that. But the issues that affect our farmers here in the heartland are often different from the issues that impact factory workers in the city and even our nation as a whole. I have ideas, and more importantly, I have answers. You'll be hearing a lot about them in as my platform unfolds in the days to come.”

Lois was unable to ask a follow up question as Lex called on Mark Radke of CNN. “Your father is now the Chair of Minerva. Was that your idea?”

Lois groaned at the cupcake question. She would have followed up with questions about Luthor’s personal life and asked if he was willing to release his tax information. Forbes and Fortune could only estimate his wealth; no one was certain what it really was.  She ignored his answer to CNN and waited for the next question.

“Mr. Luthor, Connie Smith, Newsweek. How much money are you willing to spend on this campaign, and are you aware of three strategy sessions that have already occurred in Washington?”

Lex composed his face into neutral mask. “I am willing to spend enough to make sure my positions are clear and my message reaches the voters of Kansas. Washington can have as many meetings as it wants. That's all it seems to do anyway.”

Lois laughed along with many members of the Press Corp. Another national reporter chimed in with a question. “Harold Baker, MSNBC. You have a reputation as a recluse. Are you prepared to let the voters know about your private life, and if so, how much of it?”

Lex smiled. “That was the first question I expected. I am running for office out of a sense of duty to the people of this state whose voices are being ignored, and out of a commitment to important issues that are being marginalized and trivialized. None of that has anything to do with my private life, which is none of the voters' --  or the medias' -- business. My qualifications and credentials to hold office are a matter of public record. My private life is private and will remain so.”

"Wow! Talk about throwing down the gauntlet," Lois thought with a growing sense of excitement that Lex Luthor was a man with something to hide. Of course, taking on the world’s wealthiest man was not something she could do alone. She needed information and a few leads. She noted a few more questions, but none were hard news. The press conference ended and Jimmy Olsen snapped pictures as the candidate was escorted off to his campaign headquarters.

Time to find out who the man behind the mask really is.

Washington

Henry enjoyed coming to this quiet pub near Georgetown University. He sat back, nursing his beer and worrying about the decaying global situation.

“Falling asleep?”

Henry jerked his head up and found Valerie Cooper smirking at him, a glass of her favorite single malt Scotch already in hand. “No, just waiting for you to get here. Drink?”

The tall woman nodded and slid into the booth across from him. “So Henry, what can I do for you?”

“I need a favor. Something is going on down in Latin America, but CIA has been unable to get agents in the field to create inroads.”

Valerie sat back, regarding him coolly. “Are you asking for my help?”

Henry smirked. “Yes, you are the liaison to the Avengers, and one of them might be able to investigate without it becoming official government policy.”

Val smiled and swirled her drink. “So this is an unofficial request for a fact-finding mission from the National Security Council to the Avengers. Because CIA is unable to get any information out of Latin America. Henry, I answer to the President and you know that. I can’t make that request, even off the record, without the Oval Office knowing. Captain America would be down here in an instant. I need a memo at the minimum, Henry.”

She was right. The super-humans who made up the organization known as the Avengers required oversight. The Avengers was a quasi-governmental organization made up of individuals dedicated to defending the United States, and the world, from threats unknown. With over a dozen members, it was formidable asset but also a way to regulate the super-humans. Dr. Valerie Cooper was that oversight, but they weren't about to follow her blindly without assurances that they would not be left out in the cold once the job was done. “I’ll see what I can do.” Henry finished his beer, paid the tab, and stood up. “Val, a word of warning. Things are getting dicey and I would not have asked if I really did not mean it.”

Val stood up and whispered in his ear. “I know Henry. But look at the overall situation... Would you take a mission like this without express cover? Sen. Kelly is beginning to feel his oats and soon not even the President will be able to stop him.”

Smallville

Whitney sat down to dinner with an uncharacteristically small gathering of the family in evidence: just the boys, Clark, Lex, and Jeff. All the grandparents were in Metropolis engaged in their various activities and responsibilities. Whitney looked down the table and watched as Wes struggled with his rice, getting more on the table than in his mouth. He wanted to laugh as Lex patiently demonstrated to their youngest son the relative value of manipulating the rice with a spoon.

“Daddy, Miss Rachel is great," Hamilton said, drawing Whitney's attention to his end of the table. "She had us take a test and then we worked on some puzzles.”

Whitney reached over a tussled Hamilton’s hair. “I glad you like her, kiddo. What kind of puzzles?”

Hamilton beamed at him. “Oh, it was a holographic puzzle of the inside of a frog and we had to put him back together and see if he would work.”

Whitney arched his eyebrows but did not respond. Clark did. “Really, how interesting. What else did you do today?”

All four boys suddenly began to talk at once and the four adults at the table listened to the enthusiastic ramble. Miss Rachel was apparently doing something right. Finally dinner was completed and Lex announced that it was time for the boys to get ready for bed and that meant bath time.


The guys were settling into bed when the first crash of thunder rocked the patio windows. The news was turned on and radar showed an intense line of storms coming up from the south, remnants of a middling hurricane that had landed in Texas. Whitney climbed out of bed and opened the door that led down to the playroom. Right on cue, four little people came running into the bedroom and hopped on the bed.

Whitney smiled. “Hi, guys," he greeted them as they climbed under the blankets and made themselves at home. It happened every time there was a loud storm; the boys would scamper up to the master bedroom and crawl in bed with them. Even Philip would climb into the bed, though he always insisted that he was only there to keep the younger twins from feeling foolish.

Whitney climbed back into bed and soon had a Teddy Bear plastered to his side. “Ben, buddy, sorry but Teddy is going to have to sleep on the head board. You are all getting very big.” In fact, the bed had been custom built to be larger than a King size bed. It was an emperor size, and all seven fit comfortably. For now.

“Okay, Daddy,” Ben answered, surrendering the teddy that was almost as big as he was.

Ben snuggled close to Wes who was next to Clark. Clark had Wes on one side and Hamilton on the other; Philip was sitting next to Lex and was asking what he was reading. All the boys jumped when another crash of thunder resounded over the Palace. There was a constant light coming from the patio doors as lightning continued to flash like a strobe.

Lex found that Philip had moved closer to him since the last boom of thunder. “So Philip, do you like Miss Rachel?”

Philip covered his mouth as he yawned. “Yes, Papa.”

Next thing Lex knew, Philip was asleep next to him, he looked over and saw that all the boys had fallen asleep despite the continued rattling of the walls by the echoes of thunder. //Well, never fails. They barge in and ten minutes later, sound asleep.//

Whitney and Clark chuckled, but did not respond. They too were settling in to sleep. Lex looked over and put out the lights and went to sleep as well.

Aug 5, Metropolis

Lois walked into the cubicle that Jimmy used as an office. “So Olsen, have you found anything?”

Jimmy looked at her and went back to typing. “I'm running through all the pictures of the party. There were a number of very important people, but the blond you wanted to know about is Tristan Fordman’s youngest brother, Whitney.”

Lois leaned against one of the walls. “Whitney Fordman? Doesn't he sit on Minerva's board of directors? Isn't he a little young to have that much power?"

"Everybody in Luthor's camp is young," Jimmy commented. "Well, except his father, but--"

Lois cut him off. "I want to know more about Whitney Fordman's connection to Lex Luthor. We need to head back to Smallville, Jimmy.”

Jimmy looked at her with a blank stare. “No, I don’t think so. I have to finish pulling together all my shots for the photo essay on the palace.  No one has ever been inside before -- America’s Castles only filmed the grounds and the fountains, and stuff. I got the exclusive on the public rooms, and I have to submit it before 5 today.”

Lois wanted to strangle his neck. “You’ve had a week to get this layout done! What is the big deal?”

“The deal is, Luthor's announcement and the launch of his campaign pushed the Palace spread back from last weekend to this weekend for editorial reasons. Lex Luthor is off at county fairs and mini-malls now, the announcement is no longer news.” Jimmy replied while still moving photos around his spread.

Lois smirked, “I need you to come with me tomorrow then. You have that damn memory for names and faces that I need.”

Washington

Raven Darkholm looked over the results of the last round of tests. They were promising but not perfect. The ‘enhanced’ soldiers could handle more gravity stress than a non-enhanced soldier, a fact that was making it possible for Raven to develop a mechanized battle armor that would eventually turn every enhanced soldier into the equivalent of a mobile mini-tank. Darkholm, a weapons designer, was the assistant director of DARPA, Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. The USAMRIID enhanced soldier project had been moved to her department three years ago. They had made the soldiers stronger, faster, and more dangerous, but had not moved much beyond that. There were only 600 Top Secret "prototypes" in existence, and since the U.S. wasn't currently involved in any major military conflict, there was little hurry on the part of the Administration to expand the project out of its experimental stage.

Army Chief of Staff, General Sam Thames walked into Dr. Darkholm’s office. He had created the super soldier project and he oversaw all aspects of the program personally. “Dr. Darkholm, what are the latest results?”

Raven looked up from her notes. “Well sir, the newest version of the battle armor is handling better than we expected. Most countries' standard weaponry will prove ineffective against it. The problem is, the Ranger and Mountain divisions require speed to achieve the planning objectives, but we haven't been successful in making it mobile enough over rough terrain to accommodate the soldiers' enhanced speed. The pneumatics on the knee and hip joints of the armor are responding too slow, creating a drag that reduces the soldier's running speed by about 14.2%."

Gen. Thames sat down. “Can you reduce the drag?"

"I believe so."

"Good." He picked up another file. "The shoulder-mounted rail guns are finally working?”

“Yes, sir. We were able to get them to cool properly and not upset the balance of the armor. Sir, I think the Army and the Marines will be able to deploy full brigades in three years.”

“Dr. Darkholm, I don’t want brigades. All I need are a few battalions of enhanced, battle-equipped soldiers to allow our friends and enemies to see that American power is alive and well. That will allow me to convince the President that American troops can be used for foreign adventures whenever necessary.”

Raven fiddled with some papers and did not look up at him. She believed in the concept of the Super Soldier and its value to protecting America's interests, but over the years she'd become convinced Thames just wanted his own little private army he could send on "foreign adventures" whenever he pleased, America's interests be damned.

“I don’t make policy, sir. I just meet my objectives and report to you and Secretary Vance. Anything else?”

The General heard the explicit warning in her voice; she was a civilian answerable only to him, the Secretary of Defense, and the President. She was one of the foremost weapons designers the country had, and Secretary Vance would gladly serve Thames' head on a platter to the President if he did anything to impede Dr. Darkholm from getting the weapons systems up and running. “Very well Doctor. Have a good day.”


Aug 8, Metropolis

Lois was looking over some of the information Jimmy had gathered in Smallville. Perry had forbidden her from going to Smallville to dig up dirt; she was too high profile and sending Jimmy to snoop around made more sense, since he was doing the photographic essay of the Palace. As a result, Jimmy had been on the trail of the good stuff while Lois was covering the scintillating story of Lex Luthor's ribbon cutting at the McMinville Jiffy Mart. She had also spent three days failing miserably at getting Bryan Armitage to return her phone calls, although she did learn that he was in Switzerland. None of those facts had improved her disposition.

“Jimmy, what am I looking at?”

Jimmy looked up from his computer and smiled at her. “That guy, Whitney Fordman, that you kept saying was hot -- l found out he was outed back in high school.” Jimmy typed a command and suddenly a picture popped up of Whitney and a tall, dark haired kid. “This was his boyfriend, Clark Kent.”

Lois studied the picture. It looked like a Prom photo to her. “So Fordman is gay. What does that have to do with anything?”

Jimmy clicked another key and an image of Clark -- again in a tux, but older this time -- appeared on the screen of his laptop. “Kent was at the Gala, as well. He talked to a bunch of people. He even said hello to me -- the way he greeted people, it was almost like it was his party. It was nothing he said, just a feeling I got."

"Gee, that's helpful. Can I quote you on that?" Lois asked dryly, looking at the picture intently. “So Fordman is gay and his ex- or current boyfriend was at the Gala acting like a big shot. Fordman sits on Minerva’s board and a few other boards, as well. I'm missing something.”

Jimmy keyed up another picture. This one was of an old highway billboard that read: Welcome to Smallville. Meteor Capital of the World.

“You remember reading about the big meteor shower that hit Smallville in 1989? Well, it appears that after the meteor shower, a lot of strange things happened in Smallville, and Clark Kent's name came up in almost every story I heard. The weirdness mostly stopped after 2003, but apparently Smallville was a hotbed of strangeness in the first few years after Lex Luthor arrived."

Lois shook her head. "I've been searching the 'Net for information about Smallville, and nothing weird is coming up."

"Yeah, I discovered the same thing, and that alone is strange," Jimmy commented. "'Cause everybody I talk to remembered that a high school student named Chloe Sullivan was obsessed with what she called her "Wall of Weird“. She wrote lots of articles about strange stuff in the high school's online newspaper. We should be able to access that in our searches, but all of that data has disappeared."

Lois laughed. “I remember Sullivan. She was an intern three years ago -- damned bright reporter, great instincts. Okay, Jimmy, find me Chloe and keep up the good work.”

Costa Rica

Damien was looking over notes that had been left for him by Acevedo. Panama was the final domino and the lynch pin that would hold the whole enterprise together. The raid would begin in 36 hours; the endgame was approaching. The Cartel’s people now controlled most of Central and South America; and once Panama fell they would consolidate their power into a mighty Latin American Union.

Two platoons were already at the Panamanian border, armed with the latest version of the Russian RPG as well as the new silent fully automatic Kalshenko machine guns. Damien had seen them in action and they were lethal in power and ammunition. ‘Only time will tell if the plan will succeed’.

He still had to make arrangements to meet with a member of the Russian Syndicate to request more weapons. The entire campaign for Panama might require more than they currently held. 

Smallville

Clark was sitting in his office hooked into the United States Geological Survey’s mainframe looking at the latest plate shifts under California and the West Coast. Radar and seismic images showed that part of the major fault off the coast of Oregon was threatening to slip within the next three months. Clark was trying to get the projections down to a few days so he would know when he had to act.

//Kal-El. The last parts of the Larsen ice-shelf is going to collapse in a matter of hours.//

Clark sighed and rubbed his forehead. “And I am expected to do what exactly?”

//Might I suggest a trip down here to stabilize the shelf. The flooding problems and current weather issues are directly related to the increase in fresh water to the oceans. A few hundred million more gallons from the disintegration of the shelf is only going to make the problem worse.//

“Fine. I will be there after I tuck the boys in tonight. Lex won’t be home until late and Whitney is leaving early to head to New York.”

//I estimate that the ice-shelf will be beyond repair in fifteen hours.//

Clark groaned as he left his chair and went downstairs to check on Whitney, who was practicing with Chris. Clark wanted to make sure his lover did not hurt himself.


Rachel was finishing up for the day. Events had forced her to watch the boys until close to seven, but she did not mind. They were still getting to know each other, and so far there had been relatively few bumps in the road.

The heat of the day had given way to a lovely cool evening and she decided to take the long way back to the villa, choosing the path through the gardens instead of the brightly lit, climate controlled tunnel passage. This garden path was one of the few areas of the estate that she was familiar with -- security had taken her on a whirlwind tour of the palace grounds as a flurry of rules and regulations were communicated to her, but there had been no time to explore on her own. So far, the sum total of her palace knowledge was the two routes between the Staff Villa and the boy's area of the Family Wing of the palace.

In no hurry, Rachel stopped (literally) to smell the roses; the varieties were just amazing. And they were hardy, too, showing no signs of wilting in the summer heat. When a movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye, she looked down the path to her right and froze. Two catlike creatures were staring at her, studying her with the intensity that only a cat can direct toward an interloper, but these were no ordinary household tabbies. They were as large as panthers, but sleeker, finer-boned, like Siamese. They had the haughty attitude of Siamese and the startling menace of panthers, too, but unlike Siamese or panthers, these two cats had pale lavender fur and eyes that burned with a faint but fierce golden glow.

Rachel was fascinated and only moderately terrified as the two cats rose and began to purposefully circle her. Rachel released the rose she had been sniffing and straightened slowly.

"Nice kitties," she murmured under her breath.

“Don’t be afraid. They won’t hurt you.”

Rachel recognized Clark's voice, but wasn't assured enough to turn toward him. "If you say so.”

“Isis, Thoth, this is Miss Rachel. She belongs here." Clark came up behind Rachel and touched her shoulder lightly as though reinforcing the concept that she was an accepted member of the household. "Go into the house now,” Clark commanded and both ‘cats’ took off towards the palace.

Rachel turned to watch them go. “Ben mentioned cats, but I thought he was talking about Abyssinians, not..." her incredulous voice trailed off, waiting for Clark to supply the name of the breed.

He only smiled and gestured to the walkway. Rachel fell into step beside him when it was clear he intended to escort her to the villa. “They were a genetic experiment. They are highly intelligent, fast, and loyal.”

Rachel frowned. “Isn’t that illegal?”

Clark smiled at her. “Some forms of genetic manipulation are illegal, yes, but exemptions were made for those two as part of a genetically enhanced cross-breeding program. Feel free to interact with them in whatever degree you like. They'll accept you now. Have a good evening.”

They had reached the walkway that led up to the Villa, and Clark left her there, departing before she could question his thin explanation for the existence of two of the most exotic creatures on earth. But, of course, Isis and Thoth were not from Earth. They were fralics, the royal breed of Kryptonian cat. They had been a gift from the Keeper after the birth of Weston and Bennett. The cats stood three feet off the ground when on all four legs; their fur was silky smooth and pale lavender. They were faster than the Terran cheetah and the two in concert could bring down the strongest of mammals. Millennia of breeding had producing a guard cat that was loyal, intelligent, strong, fast, and psychic. The Keeper thought that on Earth they would live two hundred years. Clark loved them, and the dogs liked them as well. The boys had fun with them, but most importantly, Isis and Thoth were the last line of defense in guarding the boys from attack.

The fralics had retractable claws and the long ‘canine’ teeth of carnivores, but their preferred diet was vegetables and fruits. Clark still laughed when he remembered the day that the triad had walked into the boys’ playroom -- Wes and Ben had been almost two at the time -- and found all four of the boys climbing on the cats. Isis had been grooming Ben, making him giggle hysterically. That was when Clark knew, without a doubt, that the cats loved the boys and would die protecting them.

Antarctica

Clark flew over the Larsen Ice-shelf, looking for the fissures that were leading to its crumbling collapse. He had the data that the Keeper had given him. The lack of light forced him to use his X-ray vision to see. The cold was affecting him, seeping through his cloak and armor, giving him good reason to devise a way to stabilize the shelf in short order. The winds and the roaring seas were forcing him to concentrate on staying in the spot he was floating at. “This is not good.”

It took a few minutes for him to come up with a plan but he soon plunged into the frigid waters and went to the seafloor. The instability of the melting flows and the ice itself was causing the land fragment that supported the shelf to crumble. Clark burrowed under the seafloor and used his heat vision to melt the rock that was under the shelf, sealing fissures and strengthening it again. After an hour of fixing the foundation he surfaced, trying to catch his breath.

“This is where it gets tricky,” Clark said aloud as he began to use his heat vision to melt part of the shelf about two miles away from the ocean water, near the surface fissures whose instability was increasing the stress on the newly-reinforced bedrock. Water vapor formed and returned in the form of snowfall. Then Clark activated a device that was part of his armor. Flying over the fissures, he used a freeze ray to force the melting ice to freeze again. Making a full circuit over the ice-shelf Clark finally hovered again. “Keeper, status of the ice-shelf.”

//Kal-El, the ice-shelf is currently stable. Barring further warming trends in Earth's oceans, the shelf should hold for 4.3 years.//

Clark sighed. He had just averted an ecological disaster. He should have been gratified, elated. Instead, he was just sad. He'd slapped a temporary band-aid on a problem the people of his adopted home refused to even acknowledge existed. How long were the citizens of Earth going to ignore their responsibility to the planet that nurtured them and kept them alive?

Clark had already lost one home. He didn't want to see another one destroyed by ignorance.

He turned north and headed home.


Aug 10, Panama

It was the dead of night. The two platoons were a mere two miles away from the border. A Panamanian garrison was stationed four miles over the border; reconnaissance reports told the assault commander that there were no more than seventy soldiers at the garrison. A late night attack would pit the element of surprise against a miniscule number of sentries.

More than a dry run, but less than a full assault, tonight's excursion would test the readiness of the Cartel's forces and the "designer soldiers" who made up a portion of those troops.

The first platoon reached their objective and waited for the signal that the second was in place. A silent buzzing at the belt of the leader gave him his signal.

A sentry saw a brief flash from the tree line and that was all he would very see; a hole in his head rendered any remaining thoughts useless. Three members of the assault team sprinted to the fence and passed through without issue. In moments, the gate was open and the rest of the first team entered the compound. Sensors attached to the fence were disabled, allowing the second group to do its job.

The "advance" signal brought the Beta Team forward and two men phased through the fence. A bag of explosives was tossed to them and they moved on as the fence behind them was cut, allowing the rest of team two inside. A sentry appeared but was downed by an alert member of the team. The explosives were placed near the power generators and set for five minutes.

Alpha Team fanned out in two-man groups. Three more sentries fell to gunfire. Moments later, an explosion rocked the night sky and the lights went out. Both squads donned their night vision goggles and as the men of the garrison ran into the compound, half-dressed, panicked, they found themselves being fired upon. In moments, the garrison had been reduced to lifeless corpses and burning buildings. Neither team had suffered a loss nor had they retreated back into the jungle canopy.

The first test was to be considered a success.


Washington 

Henry was sound asleep when the phone on the nightstand began to ring. Moments later, his pager went off and so did his cell phone. He looked at saw that it was the White House Signals Office calling. "Gyrich."

"Mr. Gyrich, there has been an incident in Panama, Signal Intel is coming in now."

Henry swore and acknowledged the call. "FUCK!" He had been expecting something, but CIA had refused to meet his intelligence demands and now something was going on. Too many things were going wrong in Latin America. Peru's government had changed in 2003 followed by El Salvador. Soon Venezuela had also fallen to a revolution, but the United States had been unable to intervene. When Columbia held elections that brought FARC sympathizers to power, American military support had been ousted. Political repression did exist, but it was not widespread; oil and drug wealth were being used to buy popular support with alarming success. Latin America was no longer considered a safe zone.

When he finally made it into work, a naval officer met him with a report and a sheath of papers. "Sir, from what we are able to see in the intercepts and satellite imaging, a small raid took place over the Panamanian border. The Forest hindered some of the images but the military is reporting that a garrison was attacked. The assault came from Costa Rica but we have no Intel to suggest that the Costa Rican government had anything to do with this."

Henry glanced at his watch and then calculated the local time in Panama. "Someone contact the watch desk at State. We have treaty commitments to Panama we can honor if they ask. I'll call Dick Simons and see if he wants to inform the President."

New York

Whitney had just finished another contentious meeting with a group of NAI shareholders. North American Imperial had become one of the planet's biggest banks in the past decade, making it the crown jewel in a lot of portfolios--and a royal pain in Whitney's ass. In the aftermath of the sale of the Community National Bank of the Heartland to North American Atlantic in 2003, Lex, Lionel, and Tristan decided to fight for their rights when the board made the decision to merge with yet another bank, U.S. Bank & Trust. By mid-2004, the LFK holding company controlled over thirty five percent of the new North American Imperial. By the end of 2004, NAA merged with US Bank Corp to form North American Imperial. At that point, NAI was the sixth largest bank in the nation by asset size, but third in market capitalization. With slumping domestic economics and market trends going against financial institutions, North American Imperial took a huge gamble and purchased its second commercial bank, Mid-Atlantic Commercial in early 2006. During the entire timeframe, NAI had been taking a position in the Hong Kong - Shanghai Banking Company Ltd, or HSBC. By 2008, NAI was a major owner of HSBC and one of the largest banks in the world. It had also been one of the best performing bank stocks for the last five years. NAI was the pinnacle of financial companies, with a balanced portfolio and strong domestic and international reserves. That was what made it so attractive and why the proxy fight was getting intense.

The meeting had not been good news. Several investors wanted to have a shareholders meeting and oust the current board. Given the bank's unprecedented success under the current board of directors, such a move made little sense, and Whitney had been unsuccessful in getting a straight answer or a valid reason. Whitney was beginning to hate New York with a passion. He needed to clear his mind, but unfortunately, he had a lunch meeting before he could take a nap or exercise.

He pulled out his pocket PC to check the location of his lunch meeting.

"The meeting is at Kraken's, sir," Brian Nichols announced, sparing Whitney the trouble of looking it up. Not to mention reading his mind. "With Jared Cromwell and Sir Johan Night."

Whitney looked over at his body man and laughed. "I suppose you'll be wanting a raise for being my secretary now?"

Nichols laughed also and opened the door of the black Mercedes for Whitney and had the driver speed off down to Lower Manhattan.

Smallville

Lex looked at the numbers Alice and Keith had handed him. "So we're looking at a significant lead over Alex Trahan in the Primary and ten points over Fromm in the general election?"

Alice took the question. "Yes, sir. That poll was taken over a two-day period of likely voters. The most important number I would like you to notice -- forty percent of the voters have significant support for you. Right now against Fromm, you lead fifty to forty with ten percent undecided."

Keith jumped in, "But these are early numbers and don't take into account what the Primary could do to you. In either direction," he added quickly.

Lex shook his head and smirked. "Are you two always going to be this much fun?"

Washington

Valerie Cooper walked into the White House Situation Room, prepared to deal with the National Security Council. She had seen the report on the incident in Panama and knew that Henry would be livid. She took her seat quickly.

"Dr. Cooper, thank you for joining us," Dick Simons greeted. "We're both busy. I'll get right to the point. The United States Government can't investigate this directly, but the White House would like the Avengers to take a reconnoiter down to Panama and look around."

Val looked over at Henry and scanned the rest of the table. "Sir, given the current political climate, Capt America is going to want a formal request, not an informal one."

Secretary of Defense, Dr. Gabriel Vance stared at her for a moment. "Dr. Cooper, no one appreciates the role the Avengers have played for the country more than I do. However, we grant them special privileges and expect certain things in return."

Valerie lifted her glass of water, using the time to select the proper response. "I will talk to Captain America and to the Wasp. I'll label it a classified mission."

Dick Simons rose. "Say whatever you have to. The White House needs this done." With that he left the room and the senior members followed.

Henry walked over and sat down next to Val. "For what it is worth, I would not have sent the Avengers to the border."

Valerie nodded. "I have to call New York and convince the Avengers to help." Valerie stood up and left to plead her case.

New York

Whitney was getting ready to head out and have dinner with a friend, then fly back to Kansas on the private jet. He glanced at his watch; right on cue his body man entered. "I was wondering if you were going to check on me. You were almost late."

Brian smiled without commenting on the jape. "The jet is ready, sir. Once you leave the restaurant, we will be ready to go."

Whitney nodded and headed out the door. He could not wait to get to dinner; he was meeting Chloe and her new boyfriend. 'Well, he is not THAT new. They have only been dating for ten months.' Whitney chuckled to himself, curious to find out what kind of guy Chloe liked now.


Whitney was the first to arrive at the restaurant, which gave him a few extra seconds to size up "the boyfriend" when Chloe entered with a brown-haired, blued-eyed guy of medium height. Whitney wanted to laugh for a second but decided not to; it was clear that Chloe was very much into this guy.

Whitney stood up and gave her a greeting hug. "Chloe!"

"Whitney!" Chloe exclaimed as she hugged him tight. "Whitney, this is Bobby Drake. Bobby, Whitney Fordman."

Bobby shook hands with the taller blond. "Dude, she talks about you all the time. You and some Clark-guy she says is clueless."

Whitney could not help but laugh out loud. "Chloe! Clark actually does have a clue or two these days. Please, sit down."

An hour of food, wine, and conversation passed all too quickly. Whitney could tell that Bobby was hiding something, but it was not malicious. Overall, Whitney approved. It wasn't until dessert that he finally he brought up the subject that had prompted him to arrange this dinner. "Chloe, I need your help."

She looked at him with a hidden smile. "Do you have any idea how often I hear that?"

"I'm sure you very it very often, but you don't hear 'I'll pay you' very often do you?"

Chloe laughed. "No, I don't. You have my complete attention."

Whitney's sobered. "I need you to find out who is gathering proxies for a fight over North American Imperial. Take your time because I don't want you to get caught--discretion is absolutely vital."

Chloe nodded and jotted down a note. "I'm on it. Discreetly. Email me with what you already know, okay?"

Whitney shook his head. "No, here is a chip that has the key data. Keep in touch and be careful. I have to go." Standing up, he hugged Chloe and then shook Bobby's hand. "Pleasure meeting you. Good luck to both of you finishing up at Columbia."


Aug 15, Washington

Assistant FBI Director Chet Desmond was looking over the latest task force report on the anti-mutant violence that was plaguing the country. The task force was six-years-old and had been formed because of some vicious hate crimes in various locations around the country. The first crimes had been handled by local law enforcement in their various jurisdictions until patterns began to emerge that made it clear these were hate crimes. That put the crimes in the FBI's court, and routine DNA analysis of the victims made it clear what they all had in common. The question over the years had become politicized, making any solution very difficult. The issue was also driving a wedge across the electorate, making the hunt for the groups of people who were committing these crimes difficult, as well.

The Senate was getting very nasty regarding anything that the task force found. Some of the Senators wanted the task force to look into evidence that the mutants were dangerous. Senate Majority Leader Robert Kelly made it very clear that he thought the task force was looking at the wrong aspects of the case, and the entity that had been formed to stop the hate crimes and bring the perpetrators to justice was being pressured into leading a witch hunt for the very people it was supposed to be protecting. Sen. Kelly was placing mounting pressure on the President to force the Attorney General to make a change at the task force or to let Justice take the lead.

“Why do I even try?” Chet said out loud. A chuckle from the doorway brought Chet’s attention front and center. “Holly?”

Holly Jones walked into Chet’s office and sat down. “You do it because you have a passion for justice," she said with a wicked grin, “and a major martyr complex.”

Chet laughed. “Yeah, I’m just a big bleeding heart, and you are the ruthless counter-intelligence chief.”

The Deputy Director of the FBI’s Counter-Intelligence division shot him the finger. A Yale Law Graduate and former Federal Attorney, she directed all efforts of the government to find non-legal spies and safeguard America’s secrets. “I was going to offer to take you to a bar down the street. Not so sure now.”

Chet tried to put on his best pout, but got a paperclip thrown at him for his trouble. “Okay, I accept. Rough day?”

“No, same shit different day. I’ll be on the Hill tomorrow briefing the House Intelligence committee on what we know about current espionage efforts in the country.”

Chet laughed as he and Holly walked out of his office. “Well, at least they like you. The Senate is ready to declare me public enemy number one.” 

Aug 19, Smallville

Philip was kicking his feet in the lake. Ben was floating on his dinosaur in the cordoned-off section while Wes was trying to swim. Hamilton was jumping off the diving board, daring Philip to follow, but the eldest of the boys wasn't taking the bait. He was still wet from his own swim and dive, and he preferred to watch and laugh as his twin tried a back flip and ended up doing a cannonball.

Lounging on the huge wooden raft that was anchored in the lake, Clark, Whitney, and Lex were all watching the boys frolic. Mohiam and Duchess had been swimming, but were now on the bank, asleep in the sun. The cats did not care for the swimming, but were near, also sleeping in the sun. Clark could not stop laughing at Hamilton’s flop. “See Lex, he is as graceful as you are.”

"Oh, yeah?" Lex exclaimed.

"Brilliant rhetoric, Mr. Candidate. Can we quote that snappy comeba--oof!" Clark's teasing was cut short when Lex lunged at him.

Whitney's laughter at their antics was interrupted when he saw Wes getting on the raft's diving board. “NO! Weston you know better.” The inevitable pout began to form, but Whitney was unrelenting. “Wes, son, don’t pout. You know the rules.”

Wes climbed off the diving board and jumped back in the water. He came up next to Ben, who was still floating on his dino raft. “Daddy won’t let me dive.”

Ben nodded his head. “He won’t let me dive, either. Get your float and we can use our water guns to get Daddy. And maybe Papa and Poppy too.” Ben tried with moderate success to squelch a round of excited giggles as Wes swam off to get his dino float.

Lex's tickle-attack ended in a truce and a kiss. Lex turned in Clark's leisurely embrace and leaned against him. "Uh oh," Clark said quietly in Lex's ear. "Ben and Wes are headed this way. Smiling. Big smiles."

Lex looked toward the edge of the float as the boys neared on their rafts. He recognized mischief instantly. “Uh oh, is right," he said, but that was as far as he got. Next thing he knew, he and his lovers were being Super Soakered. He heard gales of giggles and then the traitorous laughter of his older sons, as well.

Clark was laughing so hard his side hurt. “I know two boys who are going to get it.” Two enormous squeals preceded Clark's dive into the lake by only seconds as the boys began frantically paddling their dinos. “I’m going to get you two!”

Ben was laughing and screaming. “No, Poppy! No!” He fell off his float and tried to swim back to the raft. “Papa!” But was met by Lex.

Wes soon found himself in his Poppy’s arms. “Poppy!” Wes tried to wiggle away from Clark but could not manage it.

Whit walked over and jumped in the lake near Philip and Hamilton. “Hi, boys.”
 
Philip and Hamilton both started to swim away screaming that Wes and Ben started it. In moments all seven of them were splashing each other and laughing. Ben climbed back on his float and Clark helped Wes back on his. Clark heard laughter from the deck that protruded from the shore. “Come and join the fun!” he called.

Jonathan and Martha waved him off, but sat down in the shaded pavilion. Martha waved at the boys. “Did you win against your parents?”

Philip swam to the deck and climbed up. “No, they cheated.” He ran over to the deck's springboard and did a summersault into the water.

All the boys splashed and played, enjoying a day of fun in water and with their parents. Whitney and Clark helped Ben and Wes with their swim strokes. Lex was teaching Hamilton how to dive without doing a belly flop. Philip kept trying to do a swan dive, but it was not working.

It was a perfect summer day.


When Rachel heard the boys screaming bloody murder, her first and only instinct was to get to them as quickly as possible. Logically, she knew that they had their own private security force protecting them -- not to mention three devoted fathers and several sets of doting grandparents -- but logic had nothing to do with instinct. Those first high pitched squeals sent Rachel sprinting off the riding/hiking trail she'd been exploring and up a beautifully manicured rise of lawn.

By the time she reached the top of the hill, it was clear the screams were all in fun, and she ground to a halt, relieved, and only a little out of breath. She made a mental note to start rising an hour earlier so she could get back to her normal regimen of an early-morning jog.

For now, though, she settled for edging into the shade of a sprawling maple tree and took in the scene below her. She was near the edge of a pristine lake with an anchored raft in the center and a jetty on the opposite shore. The pavilion, designed like ship sails fully unfurled, extended into the lake at the end of the jetty, and Rachel smiled at the sight of the four boys and their fathers cavorting in the water. Mr. and Mrs. Kent were meandering down a path that led from the castle that loomed majestically in the distance.

It was the perfect picture of a pastoral summer day in paradise.

Philip was climbing onto the jetty, preparing to dive. Whitney levered himself out of the water onto the right side of the raft; someone gave Lex Luthor a boost onto the raft from the left side. Laughing, Whitney walked across the raft, squatted beside Luthor, talked for a moment, then gave the newly-declared Senatorial candidate a kiss. Rachel was too far away to see any real detail in the kiss, but she could tell it was full-on-the-mouth and looked sweetly romantic. It lasted until an arm snaked up out of the water, grabbed Fordman, and toppled him into the water.

There was shrieking and laughing from the boys, then Clark Kent propelled himself effortlessly onto the deck next to Luthor and pulled him into an obviously comical but unquestionably real embrace. As they kissed, Fordman splashed them from the water, laughing and shouting and motioning for the boys to come join him.

The feeling of being an interloper prompted Rachel to her feet and she slipped off down the hill. To say that she was confused was an understatement. For weeks, she had been mystified by the "family" structure, unable to figure out who was biologically related to whom, nor could she find a conventional reason for what might have brought the three "fathers" together in the first place when clearly only two of the men could have had biological relationship to the twins.

A sexual relationship between Luthor and one of the others had seemed a likely possibility, but it had never occurred to her that he might be involved with both Fordman and Kent.

Rachel tried to decide how she felt about this revelation. Shocked? Well, marginally, yes. Revolted? Not in the least -- the boys were receiving too much love and support for her to find anything wrong with the relationship. But as for what the future held...that was another matter entirely. Luthor was embarking on a career in politics while harboring a secret that could -- if revealed -- have devastating impact on the lives of the four children he called his "sons."

No wonder they kept the boys isolated.


Aug 21, Metropolis

“Look Jimmy, maybe you need to go to New York, find Chloe Sullivan, and interview her there,” Lois told Jimmy in one of the conference rooms.

Jimmy sighed and tried to think of why he wanted this job in the first place. “Lois, I’ve called her and sent emails. I can’t make her answer me.”

Lois began thrumming her fingers on the table. “Which is why I want you to go to New York and talk to her in person. She is the only lead we have on the Fordman front, and the fact that it seems important makes me crazy! I have to cover the campaign but YOU are free to follow this lead. Hell, even that Armitage person still has not gotten back to me!”

Jimmy listened to Lois rant some more, but he had no clue how to find one person in a city of 13 million. “So you just want me to fly to New York and wander around looking for this girl.”

Lois calmed down for a second and handed Jimmy a piece of paper. “She requested a recommendation. This is her final year of grad school at Columbia. Use that address as a lead and find her. I need to know if she has any clues or knows why information about Smallville’s past is so hard to find.”

Jimmy looked at the address, then at the plane ticket Lois was waving in front of him. “I take it that I’m going to New York.”

Lois did not respond, but just walked out of the room. It was a slow news day and the fact that Lex’s opponent for the nomination had dropped out of the primary was not helping much either. Lex was going to be the Democratic nominee and would square off against Jacob Fromm.

She was already covering the campaign, but Lex was simply visiting various rallies across the state to get the Democrats out to vote during the primaries. Lois wanted to get an interview with Sen. Fromm, but he was not available, since the Senate’s August recess was being held up due to a number of bills, including fourteen funding authorizations that needed approval. “Will Labor Day ever get here?” The traditional starting point of the fall campaign was when she hoped the sparks would begin to fly. Current polls had Luthor up ten points, but with ten percent of the voters still undecided, it could be a very close horserace.


Eliot Armstrong was crucial to Lex’s campaign. The popular Mayor of Metropolis had a strong ground organization, and Lex's campaign staff had been preaching that "turn out" would be the key to Lex's victory. Lex wanted to tap the resources of the Mayor's organization. “Mayor Armstrong." Lex greeted him with a smile and a handshake as he was ushered into the mayor's office.

Eliot smiled and gestured for Lex to sit. “Lex. Congratulations. I see that you are the nominee now.”

"Yes, but the next one won't be so easy." Lex leaned back in his chair. “Eliot, let’s get right to it. I was one of your biggest supporters when you first got in the race three years ago.”

The Mayor nodded. “And you have been my key ally the entire time. I’ve heard that the Governor is not happy that you're running.”

“He and I disagree on just about everything. Why should this be any different?” Lex stopped for a second. “Eliot, I am going to need your organization here in Metropolis. The other key groups will follow your lead.”

“I will help in any way I can, Lex. I have a lot of faith in what you can do for the state of Kansas. Let me make a few calls -- I'll have my people get in contact your campaign. Anything I should know?”

"Yes." Lex stood and shook Eliot’s hand. “Washington does not want me to win. It might be a nasty campaign.”

Eliot followed Lex to the door. “Of this I have no doubt. I’ll see you in a few.”


Aug 23, Istanbul

Damien did not enjoy international flights; they were too long and too cramped. Regardless, this was no pleasure trip, it was all business. The ancient capital of a long forgotten empire, Istanbul was a city of many cultures. The Greek influence was still around, but Islamic and Turkish influences were far more prevalent. The city had been chosen as a meeting place because Istanbul was close to Russia and Damien could get there with ease. Walking down a narrow street, he turned down an alley towards a café that he had been told was excellent. The sun was setting, creating deep shadows across the city.

“Mr. Parker, a pleasure to see you again.”

Damien looked up at a man in his thirties, middling height, with a slight accent. “Kirov, please have a seat.”

Vitaly Kirov was a Russian Syndicate boss. He had deep connections into the government and used them to his advantage. “Well Damien, are you responsible for turning Panama into a hornet’s nest?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Vitaly’s eyes narrowed. “My friend, do not insult me by thinking I would not recognize Russian armaments after they have been expended. What you do in Panama is your business -- until the Americans begin asking questions. Then it becomes my business. That damned Monroe Doctrine has been letting them treat the Western Hemisphere like a backyard for two centuries now.”

Damien was not interested in a history lesson. “Thank you, but all I need from you now is a delivery schedule and price.”

Kirov pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag. “You are asking for enough weapons to field two battalions, correct?”

Damien waved a hand in front of him to clear the air. “Yes. Do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal, but for such a large shipment it will require time for you to take full delivery. I would estimate two months.”

Damien knew better than to expect a miracle, but he wanted them far sooner. “As soon as you can get them to us.” Damien left a wad of Euros on the table and departed. He wanted to return home quickly. He did not like to leave Dr. Corbeau alone for any length of time. Some of his more radical experiments had been disasters and Damien did not need any more issues on his plate.

New York

Jimmy was walking around Columbia University heading towards the building that housed the Journalism Department. He had a few leads on where to locate Chloe Sullivan, but was in no hurry to follow them. This was the first chance he'd had to get away from Lois in weeks. She was driving him nuts. If he was lucky, Chloe Sullivan would be hard to find. Very hard to find.

Jimmy had only been to New York once before and Columbia had not been on that trip. Now, he was enjoying exploring the campus. It was early in the day, and he had a few hours before he would knock on Chloe Sullivan’s apartment door.


Bobby Drake was watching a mindless movie when there was a knock on the door. “Yes?”

The lean, dark-haired stranger gave Bobby a bright, friendly smile. “Excuse me, but is Chloe Sullivan here?”

Bobby knew better than to be taken in by a friendly smile. “And you are?”

“Sorry, I’m Jimmy Olsen and I work for the Daily Planet. I need to speak with Ms. Sullivan please?”

Bobby looked at Jimmy for a second. “She is not here right now.”

"When do you expect her back?"

Bobby laughed. "With Chloe, you don't expect anything. Every day is a surprise."

Jimmy took out a card and pen and scribbled his hotel number on the back of it. He handed the card to Bobby. “I'll be at the hotel for another day, or she can call me at the Planet in Metropolis. Can you please have her call me when she gets home?”

Bobby was skeptical, but accepted the card. “I’ll let her know.”

Olsen left and Bobby added the business card to the small stack of messages that had started piling up the day after Chloe accepted Whitney Fordman's job offer. Any mystery was enough to send Chloe into a world all her own, but this was different. Bobby had never been to Metropolis, but he knew that Chloe missed the city. And her friends. This was a special assignment and she wouldn't let go of it until she had the answers her friend was looking for. This Jimmy Olsen guy could have a very long wait.

“Ah, Chloe, I hope you don’t get in too deep.”

Aug 26, Metropolis

Lionel walked into the Chairman’s Office for the first time as his. As a guest, he had sat and talked with Lex dozens of times over the years, but it felt different now. It had been eight years since he'd been at the helm of a Fortune 500 company, and his ambitions for being the best had already been achieved -- by his son. Lionel wasn't sure what that left for him.

He traced the contours of the desk and looked at the view of downtown. “And I wanted to come back to this why?”

“Because you have the ability to maintain control in the face of uncertainty.”

Lionel turned and saw Tristan framed in the door. “Quite an endorsement. Thank you. How are you faring?”

Tristan walked in and stood next to Lionel. “Concerned and excited. So much is in flux right now. The whole family risks much.”

Lionel directed his gaze over the skyline. “I believe one thing with all my soul now, Tristan. We are the guardians of the future."

"The boys?"

Lionel nodded. "And the rest of us, too. There is much at risk and much to gain. Our counsel of caution these last few years has been nothing more than a way of buying time, but that period is now coming to a close.”

Tristan walked to the door, but stopped and turned back. “Events have been set in motion and we have no idea how they will end.”

"Exactly. " Lionel faced Tristan. “The great Chinese curse ‘May you live in interesting times’ seems to be appropriate. I’ll be down in a few minutes for the meeting.”

Aug 31, Smallville

Lex was watching the returns from the Primary on the Internet. The election was a formality, but one that had to be completed. Most of the counties were reporting, and it was a huge victory, but against no opponent. The Get Out the Vote efforts had paid off well, but now the main event was coming up. None of the news stations were showing the results, but Lex was getting information. Keith and Alice would be up all night studying the key data for trends.

“My love, come to bed. You can look at the results just as easily there.”

Lex looked up Clark leaning against the doorframe. “Yes, but you and Whit would distract me. I tend to get nothing done when I try to work in the bedroom.”

Clark walked in and kissed the crown of his head. “Well, I won’t beg, but I want to spend time with you before you are gone for most of the week.”

Lex chuckled. “I have to win first, then we can worry about all that stuff.”

Clark walked to the door and waggled his hips. “Okay. I guess I'll ask Whitney to help give you a show…”

Lex grabbed the laptop and followed Clark quickly. Nothing was worse for any of them than the sexual torture of being left out.

Sept 2, Metropolis

The sleek, black Lexus extended cabin SUV rolled to Metropolis at seventy miles per hour. Philip and Hamilton were sitting in the middle row; Wes and Ben in the back. A car was following them, carrying two more bodyguards, even though the boys did not think of them as such. They were excited because they were heading to see the Royals play the New York Yankees. The season was beginning to wind down and the boys had been promised that they could see a few games live. They were meeting their grandparents at the stadium and then would have dinner at the Manor in Metropolis and spend the night before returning to Smallville the next day.


Hamilton and Ben wanted to sit on the front row of the Owner’s Suite seats. Philip was inside the Suite watching the game on the monitor, chatting with Uncle Nick about how much money Minerva had. Wes was sitting next to Jonathan right behind his brothers, yelling at the people to hurry up. Elsa was sitting on the other side of Hamilton, trying to devise a plan to get a ball hit to her.

"Are you sure your Grandpa Jonathan can't just order one of the batters to hit it to me?"

Hamilton sighed and shook his head. His Grandpa Jon was right: Women and baseball just did not mix. "No, Elsa. It doesn't work that way."

“But, Hamilton, I want a baseball,” Elsa whined as she finished the last of her ice cream. She saw her Daddy and got up to ask him for a baseball.

Jonathan was pointing out the flags hanging around the stadium, symbolizing the great victories in Royals’ history.

“Well, Philip, you know the family is very wealthy and much of that is based on Minerva, but not all,” Nick was telling his nephew.

Philip stopped eating his popcorn and cocked his head. “But isn’t Papa’s company doing things no one else is?”

Lionel had been chatting with Anne and Martha across the room and heard Philip’s question. “Philip, enjoy the game. Trust me, Minerva will be doing exciting things for years to come. There's plenty of time for you to get involved when you get older. For now, have fun.”

"Yes, Grandpa." Philip nodded and smiled. "Did you like baseball when you were my age, Uncle Nick?"

"Oh, sure. In fact, I played Little League until I was twelve,” Nick said as he reached for a handful of Philip's popcorn.

Philip frowned. "What's Little League?"

Lionel's head whipped round, shooting a death ray at Nick, who closed his eyes and shook his head. How could he have been so stupid? Given the security risks involved and the campaign just starting, enrolling the boys in the Smallville Little League was the last thing the trio needed. "Well--"

Lionel intervened. "Little League is one of several forms of municipally sponsored intramural sports engaged in by youth of lesser means than you and your brothers."

Philip frowned as he picked out the words he knew and tried to provide context to the ones he didn't. "Intra-mural?"

"You can look it up when you get home tomorrow," Lionel decreed with a finality that ended the discussion.

"Yes, Grandpa," Philip said without much enthusiasm.

"Come on, kiddo," Nick said, giving him a hug. "Let's go watch the game from the seats. That's what coming to a game means, you know. No TV. No sportscaster, just pure baseball." He guided Philip outside and they settled into seats behind Jonathan, who was explaining why the Yankees disliked the Royals so much.

Philip was antsy and kept looking over his shoulder at his grandpa Lionel and his grandmothers. It wasn't long before he was out of his seat and back in the Suite. He approached his grandfather hesitantly.

Martha saw him fidgeting. "What's wrong, Philip?"

"May I speak with Grandfather, please?"

Lionel turned to him. "Of course you may speak with me, Philip. What is it?"

"I believe that the prefix 'intra' means 'within', and I'm not sure what the Greek root word is for 'mural,' but murals are paintings on walls, so I would guess that 'intramural' means within the walls of something."

Lionel smiled broadly. "That is an amazing feat of deductive reasoning, Philip. I'm very proud of you."

"Proud enough to tell me what Little League is?"

The three grandparents’ surprised, delighted laughter rolled through the Suite.

"He's got you, Lionel," Anne murmured around her chuckles.

"Yes, I recognize a corner when I'm painted into it," Lionel replied dryly. He patted the seat next to him and Philip climbed on. "Philip, do you know what the Major League is?"

"Of course."

"Well, Little League is like the major leagues for children, played on a local level."

Philip's eyes got as round as saucers. "You mean, Little League is baseball for kids?"

"Yes."

"Like me and Hamilton and Ben and Wes? Cool! Does Smallville have a Little League?"

"Well, I expect it's likely--"

"Way Cool! Hamilton! Guess what?" Philip shouted, jumping out of his seat and darting out to his brothers in the box. "We can play baseball and be on TV and win the World Series and everything! I'm gonna play shortstop. What are you gonna be?"

Lionel sagged back. "Oh, I am in so much trouble."


Smallville

The rainforest section of the Conservatory was astonishing – a complete eco-system in miniature. Rachel strolled through, trying to enjoy it on an aesthetic level, but all she saw were lessons for the boys. "Relax, Rachel. Lighten up. Take a day off," she advised herself.

This was the start of a long weekend for her, but being new to Smallville, she had no idea what to do with her spare time. Truthfully, she'd been so absorbed in the boys that she'd never even been into town. She didn't even have a car to take her there, although she was certain she could find transportation if necessary. "I should buy a car," she muttered, then shook her head.

"But first I should stop talking to myself and get a life."

"A good first step would be talking to me."

Rachel's heart nearly stopped and her legs felt a tad unsteady as she whirled to find a man she had met shortly after her arrival, but couldn't quite place. He was fit, handsome, probably close to 40, and he had an amused twinkle in his eye that made her feel slightly less embarrassed. "Is stealth training a requirement to work here?"

The eye-twinkle broadened into a full-fledged smile. "It is in my job."

She placed him. Sort of. "You're with security."

"In a manner of speaking, I'm Christian Smith."

Rachel nodded. "I remember now. You are security." She paused. "What did I do wrong?"

"Not a thing. We're having trouble with corrosion in our sensors and I came in to assess the damage. Saw you and thought I'd say hello."

"Hello."

"This is your first visit to the Conservatory, isn't it?"

Rachel frowned. "Don't take this the wrong way, Mr. Smith, but exactly how closely are my movements within the Palace and grounds monitored?"

Chris laughed. "The look of awe on your face gave you away. I don't have a database somewhere that tells me what time you get up and what you have for breakfast."

"Glad to hear it. But you didn't answer my question."

"Hmmm... Noticed that, did you?"

"I'm quick that way," Rachel quipped, turning to move on down the path. Chris joined her.

"Motion sensors keep track of movement outside and in public areas of the Palace and Villa. If we want to know who is registering in a particular area, we have to turn on the security cameras."

"That's a relief. I'd hate to think that everyone knew about the mariachi band I smuggled into my quarters last week."

"So that's where that music was coming from!" Chris quipped, and they both laughed. Rachel liked the sound of it. She also liked the security man's accent and the aura of absolute calm that radiated from him.

The meandering trail led to a set of steps in natural stone, and as they reached the bottom, the air changed. The humidity dropped, making it feel cooler despite the brightening light, and the rainforest suddenly gave way to a sea of roses.

"Oh, my."

"Quite a sight, isn't it?  Mrs. Fordman and Mrs. Kent tend these and the gardens outside the Library and the Lovers’ Tower. They love roses. Mrs. Kent would like to tend the orchards, as well, but Mr. Kent, senior, has long said no.” Chris motioned for Rachel to follow. “Let me give you a tour.”

“Thank you. How long have you worked here?”

Chris smiled at her as they walked along the wild roses. “I’ve been here since the beginning, I suppose. This part of the Conservatory was not yet built when I was hired. In fact, I started before people even moved back in after the first major renovation.”

Rachel paused and bent to smell a blue rose that stood apart from the rest. Not surprisingly, the scent was as rare as the color. "You're the one I've heard referred to as 'the Spymaster,' aren't you?" she asked without looking at him.

"Yes, well... Everybody needs a nickname and that one was preferable to Sparky."

Rachel laughed. When she straightened, she met his gaze dead on. "There are a lot of secrets here, aren't there, Sparky?"

His gaze never wavered. "And it's not my place to tell you any of them."

He turned and Rachel followed as he led them through a huge door into the formal gardens outside. She looked back and saw they were at least 400 yards from the Palace. “Amazing. If you can't tell me any secrets, what can you tell me?”

Chris began pointing. “The Greenhouse and Conservatory are a marvel of modern engineering." He sounded like a professional tour guide. All he needed were a microphone, a trolley car, and a flat little hat. "The windows that let in the light are hidden between the trees and bushes down here until the pavilion. There are many more varieties of plants in the underground sections.”

Rachel laughed as they walked. She saw what was known as the Lovers’ Tower, the stand alone four story tower on a hill. “That wasn't exactly what I meant. What can you tell me about the family?”

Chris pointed to the Tower. “The Tower sits on the above-ground garage. It's three miles from here to the front gates, but few use that way to gain entry to the estate now.” He looked over and saw her frown. “Ms. Amstead, there is far more going on here than you, or even I, know. The amount of wealth controlled from this compound is stunning. Staggering, even. Some of the things they do with that money is worthy of monuments. All I can say for sure, they love each other, a fairy tale love and it is wonderful to see people who have it.”

"They..." Rachel murmured. "Lex, Whitney and Clark. The three of them are...together?"

"If you'll notice their rings sometime, you'll see everything you need to know."

Not Lex and Clark and Lex and Whitney, but a triad. That was the question that had been plaguing her since that day at the lake. "And the boys carry a surname of...?"

"Luthor-Fordman-Kent."

"And their biological mother or mothers?"

"I wouldn't know about that. The twins were brought home and presented to the family as fait accompli." He studied her closely. "Does all of this bother you?"

"Bother me? No. Of course not. But the relationship is unorthodox, and with Mr. Luthor entering the political arena, it will eventually become common knowledge. Only an ostrich would believe that it won't have an impact on the lives of these boys as they grow up and begin interacting with the real world."

"This world is real, Rachel."

"Yes, but it's only 7.6 square miles."

"Just wait."

What did he know? Rachel wondered. What plans did the wealthiest family in the known universe have in store for the rest of the world?

It was too big a question to contemplate, but Rachel realized that she was very glad to be along for the ride. The boys were a pure joy, and the family she had observed that day at the lake--

Ah.  A light suddenly dawned. Now she knew why the head of security for entire complex had stopped to pass the time of day. And why he was being so forthcoming about the family he worked for. "You know I was out walking by the lake that day," she accused.

"Yes."

"It wasn't my intention to spy."

"I know that. With the entire family out there, we had full electronic security hot for a quarter mile around the perimeter of the lake. I know you heard one of the kids screaming and without a second's hesitation ran to help. Ms. Amstead, I have trained security personnel who don't react that instinctively without regard for their own welfare."

Rachel was speechless. He was making her sound positively heroic. She didn't think she was, but she found that she didn't mind having Christopher Smith think so. She was stunned when he continued, "By the way, I passed that information on to my employers. I thought they should know that they had hired loyalty and courage right along with all that intelligence and passion for education. And beauty," he added as an afterthought that seemed to surprise him almost as much as it did Rachel.

"Th-thank you," she stammered.

"You're welcome." He grinned. "You know, Rachel, if you were serious earlier about buying a car, I'd be happy to give you some new car buying tips. Or you could just let me take you into town for dinner tonight."

"Ummm... Yes. Thank you. Of course." Rachel felt like she'd just been asked to the senior prom. It really was imperative that she get a life. It had been too long. She stopped stumbling over her words and tried to remember how to flirt. "I would love to have dinner with you. Sparky."

Sept 3, New York

Chloe was exhausted. She knew taking the job from Whitney would be stressful, but she hadn't known it would be next to impossible. She was no closer to finding an answer to his problem than she was when she had first looked at the files. All she really wanted now was some sleep; traveling between Boston, Chicago, and Atlanta for the past two weeks had drained her. On top of that, she would have to make up for the classes she had missed while out looking for Whitney’s information. Thankfully her advisor thought she was one of the most gifted students to come through the program and had allowed Chloe the opportunity to do the traveling. 

"Hey doll, you look like warmed over death," Bobby said as he slid next to her in their bed.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Drake." Chloe spoke mostly to the pillow, but the warm body snuggling against her was relaxing.

"Hate to interrupt your semi-unconsciousness, but some guy from the Daily Planet showed up at the door asking for you. It was a few days ago and unlike me, he couldn't hang around waiting for you forever. He called and left a message that he was returning to Metropolis. Wants you to call him ASAP."

Bobby's tone made Chloe sit up. "Really? Did he say what he needed?"

Bobby handed her the business card. "No, only that it was important." Bobby headed out the door. "I have class, I'll see you tonight. Missed you doll, I’ll make us dinner and treat you to a massage."

Chloe heard the door close and laid on her pillows, staring at the ceiling. 'I wonder what he could possibly want?' She passed out from exhaustion before she had a chance to speculate.


Chloe sat upright and saw that five hours had passed. It was almost mid-afternoon. Her body ached from sleeping in an awkward position. She looked over and saw the card on the bedspread. She recalled her conversation with Bobby and decided to find out what this person from the Planet wanted. She dialed and waited for an answer.

"Jimmy Olsen."

Chloe thought he sounded young. "This is Chloe Sullivan. You came by my apartment?"

"Ms. Sullivan! Oh. Uh, thank you for calling. I am a photographer for the Daily Planet."

Chloe was taken aback. "Photographer?"

"Yeah. I was sent to ask you about some strange happenings back in Smallville. It seems you put together some information that's now missing."

Chloe suddenly became wary. She remembered Clark telling her of the raid on the depository of the meteor rocks. She had become cautious in the face of that knowledge and removed the archives of the 'freaks' from the Torch's online database. She still had them, but did not want that information to get out. "Why do you ask about that now? As far as I know, it's been so long since anything freakish has happened in Smallville."

Jimmy heard the distance in her voice and knew that it would be a mistake to push her too hard.. "Just looking at various items involving the Luthor family."

Chloe had seen the news about Lex's race for the Senate, but had been unable to think about it in the face of her own investigation. "Not much to say about them, they own half the county by now."

"Actually, I was looking into his friendships and the affection that Smallville feels for him. And his relationship with the Fordman family."

Chloe's guard was up even further now. "What relationship?"

Jimmy knew something was there; her tone was too defensive. "That's what I'm hoping someone can tell me. Along with that missing information about Smallville's past."

"Mr. Olsen, I'll have to get back to you on that. I have no idea where to find that information." Chloe hung up the phone and tried to get her thoughts in order.


Bryan Armitage was looking out over the Manhattan skyline from his office in the Chrysler Building. On the desk behind him were reports for the company he helped run, Atlas Insurance. The hurricane that had hit near Victoria, TX, was going to cost his company over a billion dollars. Nothing that they did not have, but it might require some divestment of assets. Atlas owned a large chunk of Wayne Industries and that was how he held his Board seat. He was also a member of the pragmatic group that did not like Bruce's flights of fancy. It had taken considerable arm-twisting and favor-mongering, but Bryan had managed to get one of the Wayne seats on the Minerva board. That was when he learned just how tightly controlled Minerva was. He had used Atlas resources to try to get some leverage in Minerva but it had been for naught. "One hundred million dollars worth of stock in that company and it still doesn't get you the time of day!"

He'd come to hate working on that board. Bill Ross, Whitney and Tristan Fordman, Martha Kent, Lex and Lionel Luthor, and Nick Brady all combined to control every facet of that company. Donovan Watkins was the sole remaining member from the old Luthor Corp board, and he was a Luthor-man all the way. Even with Lex gone, the others held a plurality of stock. Wayne's ten percent the next highest, but after that it was decimal percentages only. It was impossible to get a voting block together to oppose the Luthor block; no one had the ability to coordinate so many small groups. Even if he wanted to launch a coup, Bryan was not the only Wayne seat on the Board, and thus his vote was a mere five percent. The other vote was held by Bruce Wayne himself, and that placed Bryan's opposition in a delicate position.

With all the confidentiality agreements concerning Minerva research and product lines, Bryan could not spill secrets without ending up in court and losing everything. On the day of the Gala, he had called Perry White to tip him off about a big press conference. He was the one who suggested an investigative journalist. He'd sought out Lois Lane at the party, but had been hesitant to return her calls. The Luthors' power knew few bounds and Bryan did not want to be on the receiving end of retribution. Lex in the Senate was something that boded ill for so many. Lionel at the helm was already creating a panic on Wall Street. One of the great Sharks of the Nineties was back and had billions of dollars to direct towards those who opposed Minerva. Lex was respected on the Street, but Lionel was feared. All that money and power would create a new center around which people would gravitate.

Bryan had seen it at the party -- the fawning of the American Elite. The only way to stop this was to unleash the press and to let everyone know about the Luthor family.

Sept 6, Smallville - Labor Day

Whitney looked over at the clock and saw that it was still early. The boys would sleep for another hour at a minimum. Just enough time.... Sliding over, he ran his hand over Clark’s bare chest, feeling the few hairs that covered his sternum. He pulled his body to spoon with Clark’s, gently kissing the nape of his neck. He heard the murmur from Clark and continued to rub against him. Whit loved early morning sex, it was a great way to begin the day.

Lex felt Clark stir next to him, heard the tell tale murmur, and moved closer to Clark. He saw Whitney’s hand moving along that sculpted chest. Lex wanted to laugh at Clark, who was trying to hide his smile, still pretending to be asleep. //Faker...// Lex slipped his hand inside Clark’s shorts while placing a kiss on his slightly parted lips. The hitch in Clark’s breathing was all Lex needed to hear to keep going.

Clark felt Whitney’s naked body against his when Lex began to feel him and kiss him. He returned the kiss and arched back into Whitney’s body. He could feel his shorts being pulled off but didn’t care. The boys were still sound asleep and that was good enough. His hand slipped down to free his shorts from his ankles and that allowed Whitney’s cock to rub against his hole. “Oh!”

Whitney continued to rub Clark’s chest and kiss his neck and shoulders. He could feel the kiss in front of him, but he was intent on fucking Clark. Reaching to the compartment in the headboard, he placed a dollop of lubricant on his fingers and brought them down to Clark’s ass. After a few tender ministrations, Whitney slipped inside.

Lex swallowed Clark’s moan as Whitney penetrated Clark. Lex wrapped his hand around Clark’s swollen cock, slowly jacking it. Clark did the same for him while the kiss became deep and more frantic.

Lex arched his hips into Clark’s grip, letting that large warm hand pleasure him. The moment Clark bit his neck, Lex came hard into that hand and felt Clark spew all over his.

Clark loved being in the middle, it made his day perfect. He was coming the moment Lex lost it and felt Whitney shoot a moment or two later. “Good morning to the both of you as well.” Clark turned as Whitney slipped free and kissed him. “Nice way to wake up.”

Whitney chuckled and kissed Clark again and then leaned over him to kiss Lex. He pulled back, resting partially on top of Clark. “Ready for your big day, Lex?”

Lex sighed, stood up, and headed to the bathroom. “The kids will be up shortly.” That got everybody moving for the day.

Metropolis

Lois walked toward Market Square, where Lex was hosting a Labor Day Rally. It was his first big event since he officially became the nominee. She saw all the banners and the poster proclaiming Lex to be ‘Tomorrow’s Leader Today.' It was annoying. ’This is the fluff part of covering a campaign, I want to get to the heart of the story!’ Jimmy had told her about his conversation with Chloe Sullivan and that made her mad as well. ’There is something I am missing and I am going to find out what it is!’

Lois really wanted to be in Topeka, covering Sen. Fromm’s Labor Day speech. It was being billed as the 'People’s rally’ giving the impression that Lex Luthor was not a person.

The Mayor take the podium to a rousing ovation, and Lois got her recorder ready without much enthusiasm. “ I guess that means that the Mayor is supporting Lex in his run for the Senate.”  She grew bored as the mayor went on and on about Lex, and she was enormously relieved when the candidate finally took the podium. She couldn't deny that he had charisma. “The man is a natural in this element. HAVE to find a way to get an interview.”

“Happy Labor Day folks! I am Lex Luthor and I will be the next Senator from the great state of Kansas!” Lex paused for the applause to subside. “We look to a future where government responds to the will of the people, not special interests. My opponent and his friends are going to make a huge issue of my money. Ask yourselves now; where did he get his? In this, trust me, I can’t be bought.”

Lois groaned but was amazed at the tactic. 'He is using his wealth to blunt attacks by Fromm and turning the issue around on him.’ She listened as Lex outlined what he wanted for the future of Kansas. ‘Get a speechwriter will you?

“This campaign is not about what we know, it is about what we do not know. It is about how we tackle the challenges we don’t see. It is about finding ways to do more with less. I am about innovation and pragmatism. My opponents favorite word is ’No.’ Now, that is not someone I want trying to find solutions to the problems we see and don’t see. Thank you and have a great holiday.”

Lois looked around and wanted to guess that at least fifty thousand people were here at the rally. She lifted her recorder, “Remember to ask Metro PD for an estimate on turn out.”  She turned and headed back to the office. With any luck she might get to hear what Fromm had to say.

Topeka

Jacob was watching Lex’s speech and was ready to strangle someone. “I can’t believe he just equated me with Special Interests!” Jacob began to pace back and forth. He was appointed and had little credibility with the voting public. He had never dealt with the public face-to-face but he knew how to get things done behind the scenes. The most important thing he brought to the table was loyalty to the President and not to the Majority Leader.

“Sir, you are on in fifteen minutes,” an aide called from the door.

“Thank you.” Jacob gathered his composure and headed to the stands. He was not going to go down without a fight.

Washington

Dick Simons was watching the speeches from Kansas and could not believe that Lex had already taken the fight to Jacob Fromm. He looked at John Norris and shook his head. “Polls already indicate a shift in how the voters are thinking. You need to head out there and take over the Fromm campaign.”

“We don’t have much to go on. Attacking Luthor’s inexperience leaves Fromm wide open to the same charge.”

“Do what you have to do, but remember that he has resources that you do not!” Dick looked up and saw Henry Gyrich at his door. “Call when you get to Kansas. If Fromm gives you any trouble, have him call me.” Dick waited for Norris to leave before waving Gyrich in. “Yes, Mr. Gyrich?”

“Sir, Panama is moving over two thousand troops to their northern border. Even after Iron Man and Hawkeye went looking, they found nothing except a few rounds. They examined them and found them to be Russian. So that did not help in the least.”

Dick looked over some notes and saw that Fromm was having trouble reaching his core constituency. “Contact Valerie Cooper and see if the Avengers will keep a member on station. What does NSA have to say about the country’s stability?”

Henry’s face turned to stone. “Many of the Panamanians are frightened and at the same time see their neighbors getting wealthier and want to be part of it. Another raid and there will be protests and further destabilization.”

Dick nodded. “Contact Cooper, we need the Avengers’ help."


Raven looked over her notes and could not get figure out why the armor’s cooling systems would not work properly. Gen. Thames was clear that he wanted this program operational before the end of summer and that was now here. “FUCK!” She ran through the calculations again and could not see the problem.

“Hey there. You looked stressed,” Valerie Cooper called from the open door.

Raven Darkholm smiled and motioned for Val to sit. “Only have to make the impossible work in a short time.”

Val laughed. “I guess that is the problem we both face. Sometimes I wonder why I took this job.”

“Same reason I did, because it was available and because we are good at what we do.” Raven shut down her computer and motioned for Val to follow. “Let’s grab a drink and commiserate over how horrible our bosses are.”

Val picked up her purse and followed, knowing she could count on Raven to cheer her up.

Smallville

Clark had a small case in his hand. The bracelets he and his loves had promised the boys were ready, finally. Clark and the Keeper had gone back and forth over what properties their bracelets should contain. The white jewels that the trio's bracelet possessed allowed them full access to all the files the Keeper had, as well as emergency teleportation to either the Palace or to Antarctica. The black jewels worn by the rest of the family were simple communications devices that allowed each member to be tracked and contacted in an emergency. Selected members of the staff and intelligence group wore jewels that were only tracking devices.

The boys’ jewel looked like sapphire. All the capabilities that the Triad held, the boys would, as well. The Keeper had informed Clark that eventually the boys' mental abilities would surpass anything Whitney and Lex wielded. The jewel would help monitor those abilities as they became active. Clark stopped his thoughts and walked into the playroom. Lex was showing Hamilton and Ben how to plot a strategy at chess. Whitney was showing Philip and Wes his baseball card collection.

Clark walked in. “Hi guys.”

//You have them?// Lex inquired.

//Yes. Ready?// Clark felt the agreement of both of them. “Boys, sorry it took so long but I have your bracelets.”

The boys cheered and crowded around Clark. Whitney and Lex laughed and told them to sit down. Clark placed the case on the table. Lex looked at his sons. “Boys, these are very special, in the future they will be even more important.” One by one each boy had a bracelet placed on his right wrist.

The overall response was somewhat anticlimactic. The boys enthusiasm for the bracelets had been replaced with another topic. “Papa, when do we get to play baseball?” Philip asked.

Lex looked at Clark and Whitney. The topic had been raised several times since the boys had attended the game and learned about a thing called Little League. They'd had several discussions, but had somehow managed to table the issue each time. //Well?// Lex prompted.

Clark chuckled and sat down. “Boys, come here.” As the boys gathered around, Clark sighed. //We knew we could not keep them protected forever. Chris will have a conniption fit.//

Whitney pulled Ben onto his lap as they all settled in around each other. “In March, Philip and Hamilton may sign up for Little League. Ben and Wes, you'll be signed up to play what's called T-ball with other kids your age."

"But we want to play with Philip and Hamilton!" Wes wailed.

Whitney crouched next to him. "Wes, Philip and Hamilton may not even be on the same team. Those decisions are made by the league officials."

The older twins exchanged concerned glances. "But can't you tell them--"

"No," Clark said firmly. "One of the reasons we want you boys to play is so that you can meet other kids your own age, and also to get an understanding for the way the world works outside the Palace grounds."

"There are rules for Little League that you'll have to follow," Whitney added. "And the four of you may not be playing together."

"We didn't know that," Hamilton said gravely.

"Have you changed your mind about playing?" Lex asked, unable to hide the hope.

Philip and Hamilton looked at each other, then their fathers, shaking their heads in unison. "No. We want to play," Philip said seriously. "We'll just have to figure out a way to keep them from splitting us up."

This time it was the three fathers who exchanged glances. This was going to be interesting.

"All right, then," Clark said, rising. "The games begin next May."

"May!" The chorus came from all four boys.

“Yes, but that's a good thing," Lex told them. "It will give Poppy and Daddy plenty of time to teach you some of the fundamental skills you'll need, and Grandpa Lionel has graciously consented to teach you the rules."

It was a miracle, but Lex managed to keep a straight face. Lionel's penance for his role in the "Little League Debacle," as he called it, was to coach the boys on the rules of Little League baseball and T-ball. But first he had to learn them.

"YAY!" Another chorus went up as hugs and backslaps and mini-high fives were exchanged. It was finally Hamilton, though, who settled them all down. "We want to go to another game," he announced. "We decided earlier."

The trio exchanged looks, but stopped when Philip spoke. “In the World Series, if the Royals make it.”

Clark was dumbfounded. //Lex, I am going to kill your father.//

Lex sighed. //Can’t, the kids love him.// “If they make it to the World Series, then we will discuss it.”

The boys cheered as if they had already won and went back to their activities. Whit rubbed his temples. //We are so going to regret this.//

Sept 8, Smallville

Whitney was in his office going over his notes for his next NAI phone call. "Chloe, I really need you to get me some information, this is getting tough." He had heard through two contacts at investment banks that pressure was being exerted to call for a vote on the board. He was waiting for Nick and Jeff to join him so he could begin to counter whatever was making so many large holders skittish. Whitney looked up when Jeff and Nick walked in. "Before we begin, Nick, what are Marauder's reserves?"

Nick sat down and pulled his laptop out of his backpack. The sleek one inch thick computer was up in a flash, and soon Nick had access to his database. "Assets are over six hundred billion dollars. That excludes the cash-on-hand that we have."

Jeff sat down and looked at Nick. "How much cash?"

"A little over two hundred billion dollars currently," Nick said with a smile. "But some of that is earmarked for other things. I can't justify spending billions to save our position in NAI."

Whitney smiled. "You realize that the only people you answer to are Lex, Clark, and me?"

Nick saw the grin on Whitney's face. "Yes, but I am allowed to manage the funds to the best of my ability."

Whitney laughed and hit his speed dial to NAI headquarters in Boston. All three of them knew this phone call was going to be long and frustrating, but a defense of their property had to be launched.

Sept 10, New York

Bruce walked into the Hellfire Mansion he'd joined with much reluctance. The idea of having so much information available to him had just been too good to pass up. It was a Friday night and the social season was beginning to rev up. There were less than one hundred members present at the moment and Bruce was walking through them casually listening to see if anything caught his ear.

"I heard that Lex Luthor is gaining momentum in his race for the Senate."

Bruce heard this and turned to see the who had made the comment. Someone he had never seen before. Bruce lingered to hear more.

"Yes, but the White House is calling for donations right and left to protect that seat."

Another unknown voice. "Their biggest concern is Luthor retribution if he does lose. They don't want him as a mortal enemy."

"Yes, I recall Dick Simons mentioning that they are going to let the Press do all the dirty work for them."

"Good luck with that. The press has been trying for years, but that town where he lives doesn't yield any of its secrets. They don't have time to waste. I haven't seen much from Lex Luthor yet, but once he moves into overdrive it will all be over. Now the mutant situation is what really scares me."

Bruce continued his walk, but was interested that the White House was looking at the Kansas race with such intensity. He thought a call to Lex might be in order soon.


Chloe looked over all of the information she had gathered. North American Imperial was a very widely held stock and a number of mutual funds loved it as a haven in turbulent times. What was curious was some of the stock was being purchased by shell companies. Her research found layers of dead ends and fake companies, and almost ten percent of the stock was now in these hands. What amazed her was that Whitney held the single largest chunk of the voting rights, but had not claimed any of the positions inside the Board's key committees.

She took Whitney's warnings to heart and was not doing anything too dangerous. It had not take her long to figure out who at the institutional investor level controlled the proxies and held the NAI stock. It was now a matter of figuring out if any of them were involved with the move to takeover the company. "FUCK!" Chloe suddenly realized that she had to work on her graduate thesis. She had to turn in something to her advisor in three days. "Shit!"

Sept 12, Metropolis

Watching the Metropolis Praetorians mop up the field with the Greenbay Packers gave Jacob Fromm a chilling sense of just how much of an advantage Lex Luthor had over him. Jacob was a sitting Senator, but Lex owned the Praetorians and had built Metropolis Coliseum with his own money. That made him very popular.

The Senator was in town to attend church services and to rally his party to his cause. Washington was beginning to panic, the latest polls had him slipping more than a dozen points behind Luthor and Lex had yet to spend big bucks. He looked at the TV again and saw the shot of the Owner's suite.

"Isn't that illegal for them to show that arrogant bastard on TV?"

John Norris wondered for the umpteenth time how Jacob had been appointed. "It is not illegal. He is the owner of the team and it was a simple shot of him in the Owner's box. But it illustrates the difficulties we are facing. He owns the Praetorians and the Royals. The Royals are heading for the playoffs and if they make the World Series, then the whole state will be focusing on his team."

Jacob scowled. "We need to begin pointing out that he has nothing in common with the citizens of the state. We need to focus on me as a common man for the common good."

Norris smiled and realized that Jacob was not going to be a liability. "An excellent slogan and it does play as a nice wedge. It will force Luthor to defend his wealth and background of privilege."

Jacob smiled and relaxed to watch the game. "You know, all of these shots of him at games and his stadiums could play for us as well. How hard is Luthor really willing to work for the state?"

John nodded thoughtfully. "I'll get our radio and print people to start getting those ideas moving. This could be very good."

Sept 15, Smallville

The Smallville Ledger had to be the unluckiest newspaper on earth. Established in 1939, the 71-year old rag lost its entire archive of paper and microfiche back-issues -- not to mention its printing presses, computers, and editor-in-chief -- when a meteor pancaked the office in 1989. In true never-say-die tradition, the paper's owner hired a new editor and began all over again. The re-building of the paper coincided with the blossoming of the Internet, and the Ledger was one of the first papers in the country to put its content online. Unfortunately, the site was hosted on an in-house web server, and in 2004, a lightening strike completely fried the server, destroying the paper's entire online archive of news from 1989 to 2004.

Mysteriously -- no, impossibly -- that same lightening strike somehow wiped out every data back up of the website's content; and to add insult to injury, it also caused a pipe to burst in the basement, flooding the archive of bound issues and rendering most unreadable. The papers that had been salvaged provided a less than complete picture of life in Smallville after the meteor shower.

"If I was the suspicious type, I'd say that someone wanted fifteen years of Smallville's history to vanish," Jimmy Olsen thought with growing frustration. He'd never realized that his job included becoming a research assistant, but that was what he was now. He spent his days buried in the stacks of moldy, bound newspapers at the Smallville Ledger, looking for information on Lex Luthor and coming up with next-to-nothing for the first few years of Luthor's residency in Smallville.

It took hours just to unearth an old photo of a bunch of people celebrating the opening of a coffeehouse called the Talon in 2002. Luthor was part-owner, according to the moldy text. Clark Kent was in the picture. So was a dark-haired cutie named Lana Lang. Close to her side was a tall blond guy in a letter jacket. The photo caption identified him as Whitney Fordman.

Jimmy's nights were a little more productive. Hanging around a bar on the outskirts of town, he'd learned of the Clark Kent and Lex Luthor friendship, which apparently began -- again according to gossip -- when Kent saved Lex from drowning after his Porsche went off a bridge. There had been sniggering speculation that Kent and Luthor became lovers after that event, but that was nothing compared to the scandal of All-State Football hero Whitney Fordman being outed as Clark Kent's boyfriend in 2002. That much, at least, Jimmy could prove after he found a photo in the Ledger of Whitney and Clark dancing at a Prom, which had been held, coincidentally, at the Luthor Mansion. They looked happy in the picture.

A couple of the bar's regulars remembered that after Whitney and Clark started dating, they went off with Lex Luthor on a trip. One of them even claimed to have been one of the day-workers Luthor had hired to cover Clark's farm chores while he was away. Jimmy found him to be less than a reliable source, though, because he claimed that Lex had hired ten men to do the work of one teenage farm boy. He could not get confirmation, but Hawaii seemed to have been the destination.

Other details of those early years emerged... The Fordmans had sold their store to Luthor's Smallville Community Development Company and Lex had moved Heaven and Earth to get Sebastian Fordman home before the father, David Fordman, passed away. A check at the school showed that Fordman graduated in 2002 and that Kent skipped two grades and graduated the following year.

Late nights at the bar had also yielded wild stories about strange occurrences -- a kid named Eric Something-or-Other had temporarily been imbued with superhuman powers and tossed police cars onto his parent's house like they were matchsticks. Some football player had killed his girlfriend, according to rumor, by freezing her to death... An elder lady had spontaneously combusted in her own bed.... High school kids had been attacked by bees, a school principal had been run down by his own car... Crazy stuff.

Jimmy managed to put together a few sketchy police reports on some of the incidents, but the real meaty details -- the stuff too strange to be included in any credible police report -- was rumored to be in a database created by Chloe Sullivan. A database she now claimed to know nothing about.

After 2004, the online archives yielded plenty of articles about Luthor's contributions to the community--financing storm clean-ups, charitable works, industrial development that had brought thousands of new jobs to the area. 'Luthor is a pillar of this community. No wonder few people speak ill of him.'

At the end of four days of hard digging, all Jimmy had was a photographic evidence that Clark Kent and Whitney Fordman had been lovers; anecdotal evidence that Kent and Lex Luthor were best friends, and all three of them had been present at Luthor's recent Birthday Gala.

Not the stuff of which Lois Lane's Pulitzer Prize could be made of, but if things kept going the way they were, Jimmy could always award her his pickled liver.


Whitney and Clark were in bed laughing. Lex was still in his office going over the latest polling numbers that showed he was beginning to pull away. They were laughing at Jacob Fromm's 'Common Man for Common People' ad. Jacob was still stuck in Washington, dealing with budget issues and was only in the state for the weekends. Lex had been crisscrossing the state giving speeches to unions and civil associations. Lex had enjoyed the process to some extent but said his hand ached from being squeezed by farmers who loved his aid program.

"I hope Lex is getting good news," Whitney said as he leaned up against Clark.

Clark wrapped an arm around Whitney and kissed his forehead. "Well, with cheesy commercials like that, how can he lose?"

Lex walked in and sat down. "The Daily Planet is digging around town. Joe Ross heard about it. And they have been going through the Ledger archives."

Whitney and Clark looked at each other for a moment before Clark responded. "What does that mean for the campaign?"

Lex finished getting undressed and climbed into bed with them. Clark's warm embrace helped him relax. "I don't know, but this is not good news. On the other hand, I am leading by fifteen points now. The fact that Sen. Fromm is hampered by the budget mess in Washington helps me." Lex yawned and kissed Clark then leaned over and kissed Whitney. "Sorry, tired and I promised Hamilton that I would show him my lab tomorrow."

Clark and Whitney groaned at that. Whitney turned off the light and they all went to sleep.

Sept 17, Washington

Having been summoned by the President, Senator Kelly walked down the corridor toward the Oval Office. He did not feel honored by the request for his presence. He despised this President as a man who lacked conviction on any issue. Sen. Kelly longed to make people understand the danger that mutants represented; the people were responding to his message, but the damn liberals kept arguing about civil liberties. He waited and was finally shown into the Oval Office.

"Mr. President, how may I be of service?" Sen. Kelly asked coolly.

The President disliked Robert Kelly for many reasons, the foremost being he was an insufferable bastard. "Senator Kelly, this budget dispute is a mess that we cannot afford. Cut a deal so Congress can go campaign."

Kelly leaned back in his chair. "Mr. President, I can't do that. The Liberals are holding up several pieces of legislation that I refuse to compromise on."

"Robert, your rhetoric on this mutant agenda is hurting the Party's standing. Moreover, it's a stumbling block for members who are up for reelection," The President practically spit out.

"Some things are important, like principles. With all due respect, I am not going to cave on anything. We will recess on time, by the end of the month. Much of this is out of my hands."

The President was seething. "You control the agenda. Move the bills to a vote."

"Some of them are still in committee, beyond my reach. Things must play out, Mr. President." With that Sen. Kelly broke decorum and left.

The President sat, stunned by his audacity. The national committee polls showed Democrats taking a generic lead on several issues. The mutant issue was listed a priority but it was not the top one. 'That SOB is going to take the Party down with him.'


Henry was looking over the latest intelligence from Panama. The increase in patrols of the Panamanian Army along the Northern Border was forcing Costa Rica to deploy troops along its border. There was a single Avenger on station, but Hawkeye was only to observe, not to interfere. That agreement was the result of an extremely contentious meeting, but Henry could not complain because he had someone there to see what was going on.

CIA had more information on the movement of arms from the Black Sea to Marrakech. Morocco was a smugglers paradise in some respects, but the amount of arms that looked to be on their way there was troubling. CIA estimated that it would be possible to field a battalion with the number of weapons that had been shipped.

"What the fuck does all this mean?" he muttered.

Events were moving in many directions, signals that could mean many things. 'The wrong assumption and we are in a worse place than inaction.'

Sept 18, Smallville

Jimmy was back in the basement of the Ledger. His head was pounding from the late night party and from the harassing phone call this morning from Lois. He was done with the stacks of newspapers, but there were a few boxes labeled Morgue Shots he wanted to go through. Despite the grisly name, Morgue Shots were just the black-and-white originals of the photographs that went into the newspaper. Fortunately, the condition of the boxes, moldy and dirty, did not affect their contents. He began thumbing through the folders of old photos, the artist in him awed by some of the quality of the shots.

He went through each folder, flipping through the pictures with reverence. They had been through so much, it would be a shame for him to damage them. It was time consuming but he was close to the last folder when something caught his attention. A CD in a generic, unmarked white paper sleeve was tucked neatly in between a batch of old pictures. Only the letters "BU" were scribbled on the CD.

"Back up?" Jimmy wondered out loud, reaching for his laptop to find out. He inserted the CD. It took only a few seconds to realize that he'd hit the jackpot. Picking his jaw up off the floor took considerably longer.

The CD was named Luthor Kent Fordman, and it had image after image of the three young men-- some together, some individually. A photo of the three sitting in a suite that looked like the old Shark's stadium. Another shot of Kent holding Luthor in a clearly romantic embrace. A photo of Luthor and Fordman together, Luthor holding Fordman very intimately. Picture upon picture of all three together or in various combinations, but all of them spoke of a relationship that was light-years away from casual. The most amazing shot of all, though, was one of the last in the directory. It was a photo of all three of them. Together. They were dressed casually, but the way they were looking at each other... Jimmy knew that there was no mistaking it. These three guys were in love. They were a couple.

Or was it a trio? Jimmy wasn't sure there was a wholly acceptable term to cover what was going on here.

"Holy shit! Lex Luthor is gay."

Jimmy quickly copied the contents of the CD to his hard drive, then put it back in its hiding place--that was the only way he could think of it. Someone had covertly taken these pictures over the course of several years, and hid the back up copy of their "evidence" down here in the Morgue.

Jimmy packed his notes and put the boxes back on the top shelf where he'd found them, anxious to get out of here and start digging up that skeleton in Lex Luthor's closet.

He stopped in his tracks just short of the staircase. He was going to talk to a few people tonight about the past, asking questions about Lex Luthor that were a lot more personal than any he'd asked on his other excursions to Smallville.

What if Luthor found out and took exception? What if Jimmy Olsen vanished without a trace?

Paranoia set in as he began to imagine all sorts of things that might have happened to the person who had felt he had a reason to hide those incriminating photos in the Ledger basement. Jimmy hurried back to his motel room and FTP'd the picture file to his own server, sent a copy to a secure email address, and burned a copy to a flash data drive. Which he promptly mailed to his mother from a local Kinko’s.

Sept 20, New York

Sebastian Shaw was sitting in his office at the Hellfire mansion. The third quarter was ending and the news for his company was excellent. He was waiting for Emma to show so they could discuss recent arrangements.

"Hello, Shaw." Emma said as she sauntered into the room. "I have news of a journalistic kind."

Sebastian nodded. "Continue, this should be good."

Emma smiled. "It appears that certain of our activities are being inquired upon."

"Oh? And these would be?"

Emma began to walk around the room. "Why did we invite Wayne into the Club?"

Shaw followed her with his eyes and tried to follow her mental trail, as well. "To see if we could use him to our advantage."

"Those activities now seem to under surveillance, but not by the source. I see an outside influence, but we have not yet found where the inquiry is originating."

"Then I suggest that we find out who is peering into our activities."

Metropolis

Perry and Lois were back to studying the photos that Jimmy unearthed. All their other material on Luthor was also being examined for implications and reinforcement, but the meat of the story were the photographs that connected Lex Luthor with not one, but two male lovers.

Perry was stunned. "Looks like Luthor has been involved with these two for eight years and no one has leaked a word. Not family, staff, townspeople... That level of loyalty is amazing in and of itself."

Lois was flipping through all of it, searching for an angle. She happened to be devoutly opposed to discrimination of any sort, and it made her crazy that homosexuality was still an acceptable prejudice in some circles. Mutants had become the latest target of discrimination. It went against everything she believed to write a story that pointed fingers and gave anyone grist to say, "Ooh, Luthor's Gay! That must make him unfit to lead." On the other hand, plural "marriages" had been outlawed a century ago. This obviously wasn't a marriage, but a three-way-romance was definitely more kinky than conventional.

"Well, it will change the race for the Senate, that is for sure," she commented around the ink pen she was chewing on. "I want more information on Fordman and Kent before we run with this."

Perry grabbed a cigar and pointed it at Lois. "Hold your horses there, Lane. This is a big story, but if we tip our hand before we're ready to publish, we will be working for Lex Luthor and this story will be buried so deep it'll never see the light of day. Follow your leads, but be careful."

Lois was annoyed at the lecture, but she understood the need for caution. "Okay, I will make another call and see if I can find out a few more things. Tell Jimmy he did good." Lois walked out of the room.

Perry looked at the photo of the three smiling at each other. "Wow. This is a powder keg. Jacob Fromm's group is going to have fun with this."

Sept 24, Panama

The second trial was about to begin. A force of three platoons was in Acandi, Columbia, getting ready to cross the border to the north and raid another Panamanian outpost. Dressed in jungle gear, Damien was looking over this force, getting ready for the next stage in the plan.

Damien picked up one of the handguns, looking at the elegant power it represented. "To think that we are about to undo something that Theodore Roosevelt started back in 1898. Gunboat diplomacy shall be trumped by genetic magic." He saw Ivan Acevado walking towards him. "Yes?"

"They will be moving in an hour. Meanwhile, how soon before we are fully resupplied?"

"According to my sources, all munitions will be in our possession in three weeks."

Acevado smiled and walked away. Damien looked at the gun and kept it. 'Beware the perils that you can see, and also the perils that you sense.'

Washington

The ringing of the phone, the buzzing of his cell phone, and the whining of his pager woke Henry up from his slumber. The troika of items could only be bad news. He picked up his house line. "Gyrich."

"This is the White House Signals Office. There has been an incident in Panama."

Henry cursed and rushed to get to the office, but while he was rushing he was going to get other people up as well. He attached his earpiece and autodialed a number.

"Cooper," came the groggy response.

"It's Gyrich. Panama has a situation. Find out from your guy down there what the hell is going on."


Henry had been looking over maps, satellite images and troop deployment orders. The losses for the Panamanian Army had been more severe this time. The incidents all happened in the southern area of the country and that was making the government nervous. The losses and having to increase the alert status was going to place stress on its remaining active forces.

Even worse, the Avenger in Panama had been in the wrong location and could not say what had happened. Something was going on, but without reliable information, it was impossible to make a reasonable guess. All he saw was a number of feints, but he had no clue what the true objective was.

Continue to Page 3


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Cast - Photo Gallery

Click for Photo/Bio
Leaders, Legends & Lore
Bennett Andrew LFK
Weston Graham LFK
Ivan Acevedo
Rachel Amstead
Aaron Boone
Adam Chase
Valerie Cooper
Justin Daniels
Raven Darkholm
Bobby Drake
Nigel Eason
Emma Frost
Richard Grayson
Vitaly Kirov
Lois Lane
Eric Lensherr
Jimmy Olsen
Donald Pierce
Oliver Queen
Michael Ross
Sebastian Shaw
Maxwell Smith
Anthony Stark
Janet VanDyne
Perry White
Warren Worthington III
Jason Wyngard
Raids, Assaults, Revels
Philip Jonathan LFK
Hamilton Ian LFK
Dr. Stephanie Fordman
Pursuits & Milestones
Brian Corbeau
Reflections & Mirrors
Chet Desmond
Lisa Fordman
Gabriel Vance
Destinies & Darkness
Dimitri Kartov
Alan Owen
Knights, Bishops & Rooks
Enrique DeSantos
Henry Gyrich
Senator Robert Kelly
Shadows in Spring
Christian Smith
Echoes of the Past
General Sam Thames
Shern Phipps
Scores & Solutions
Stephen Hamiltion
Nathan Daniels
Battlements & Barricades
Tristan Fordman
Nick Brady
Damien Parker
Dominic Haynes (Senatori)
Repercussions&Achievements
Lionel Luthor
Anne Fordman
David Fordman
Sebastian Fordman
Jeff Fordman
Bruce Wayne
Plans, Detours, Goals:
Chloe Sullivan
Lana Lang
Clark Kent
Whitney Fordman
Lex Luthor
Jonathan Kent
Martha Kent
Pete Ross
Victoria Hardwick