Secret Identities Chapter 13

Secret Identities
Chapter 13

“Chloe?”

Clark and Oliver entered the penthouse. There was no sign of her. Oliver did a cursory check of the other rooms, then returned opening his cell phone, pressing one button and holding it to his ear, waiting. “Voice mail,” he muttered, snapping the phone shut.

“Maybe she went home,” Clark offered.

Oliver’s brows knit, his eyes thoughtful, moving around the room once again, as though he had overlooked her, or missed some sign of her, or that she’d magically appear. His scowl deepened. “Something doesn’t feel right.” He stepped over to his desk scanning the top of it, looking for a piece of paper written in her familiar hand. Nothing. “She would have left a note or called one of us if she were going home.”

“I’ll go to the Talon,” Clark said and then whooshed from the room.

Oliver checked the security feed, rewinding it. He watched as Chloe stepped onto the elevator to leave. That was it. She’d left at 12:07 am. He checked the clock. It was now 1:00 am.

Clark was back in minutes. “She’s not at the Talon, and I just checked at the Planet. Her car is still there, but no sign of her.”

Oliver’s jaw clenched. “You said Lex knew about her break-in. What if he’s done something to her?” He then opened his cell phone once more, making a call, not waiting for Clark’s answer. “Assemble the team. Metropolis Clock Tower. Now.” He paused listening. “I’ll tell you when you get here, Impulse.”

He turned to Clark once more, hands fisted loosely at his sides. “If he’s done anything to her..”

“Oliver…”

“No Clark, if he’s hurt her in any way, you’ll have to do more than the thirty-foot toss on me to keep me away from him this time.”

Clark took a step toward him, clearly becoming agitated with worry as well. “She’s my best friend, Oliver. I want her safe just as much as you do.”

Oliver rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent night’s sleep. “Then let’s find her.”

* * * * *

“You know that you can be imprisoned for what you’ve done, don’t you?” Lex shark-circled her chair.

“You have no proof that I’ve done anything,” Chloe countered.

“Trusted employees saw you being carried off by the Green Arrow.”

“Even if that were true, it means nothing. And trusted employees? You sure? Isn’t that an oxymoron in your dictionary?”

Lex dismissed her comment. “I think you were meeting him to pass along Luthorcorp information. You’re well aware that he’s been a thorn in my side, using terrorist tactics to sabotage my corporate interests. Now, why would one of my former reporters be meeting him, I wonder.”

Lex smirked at the look of disbelief on her face. “That’s right. Consider yourself fired.” He approached her and stroked her un-bruised cheek with the back of his forefinger. “Such a shame. Bright. Talented. Beautiful.” Chloe recoiled at the familiarity, but Lex was insistent, and clutched her chin in his palm, forcing her to look up at him. “I’d be willing to bet that if he knew where you were right now, he’d be here to affect your rescue.” Chloe diverted her eyes. Lex smiled, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. “That’s what I thought. Now, tell me who he is, Chloe.”

“I don’t know him. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she bristled.

He released her chin and stepped toward the door, opening it and addressing his assistant, who waited for him obediently, like the female dog she was. “Find a way to get a message to our Emerald Archer friend. I don’t care how you do it. Put the word out. Lex Luthor’s got something he wants.” He turned to look back at Chloe before he exited the room. “You will tell me who he is. Make no mistake about that.”

When the door closed, Chloe slumped in her chair as though she were a deflated balloon. Being fired from the Planet was a hard blow. Her dreams of being the Pulitzer Prize winning Daily Planet reporter, came crashing down around the edges of her thoughts, and she tried to hold them at bay for now. With Lex at the helm of the paper, it simply wasn’t the same. He’d chisel away at its integrity until it was twisted and unrecognizable, much like all other things in his life that had once been good. At one time, she might have sympathized with him, but those days were long gone. First things first. Get the hell out of here, worry about her reporting career later.

Chloe knew she had to do something. She’d been trying to loosen the bonds on her wrists for the past half hour. They were raw and bleeding. It was too late to curse her stupidity now for the whole Luthorcorp break-in, but she’d gotten herself into this mess, and she’d simply have to find her way out of it. She wondered if Clark and Ollie were back at the penthouse, and hoped that Oliver had not done anything crazy. She snorted out loud. About as crazy as what she’d done? About as crazy as her predicament now?

Pot meet kettle. Maybe he was her match after all. The sudden realization of that last thought sent her heart pounding just a little faster. He was her match. Not Clark, not Jimmy, no one else. Oliver. He was her match. He was hers. Hers to love, hers to defend. And she at once knew what Oliver must be feeling when he worried over her safety. She sat up a bit, as a fierce sense of protectiveness for him coursed through her, giving her courage, making her suddenly more alert. There’d be no way on earth Lex Luthor would ever know who the Green Arrow really was. It was her turn to protect her Archer. One more secret she’d take with her to the grave, along with the secret identities of others who did their work to make the world a better place, with no extrinsic reward. No, this would be no plan to lure the Green Arrow to Lex, not if she had anything to say about it.

“Hey!” She called out, knowing there must be someone at the door, guarding it. “Hey! A little help here?”

The door opened and Ms. Assistant swept into the room. “What is it, Ms. Sullivan?” she asked impatiently, arms folded over her chest.

“Well, I’ve been here awhile, and I love coffee, I guess I drank way too much earlier, and…”

“Get to it.”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

The woman eyed her speculatively for a moment. “Fine. But no funny stuff,” the woman warned as she untied Chloe from the chair, but left the plastic handcuff binders in place.

They walked past a guard and into the dimly lit corridor. From the looks of it, this was yet another lab facility, but where exactly? They walked until they’d reached a door, and the woman pushed it open, waiting for Chloe to enter.

Chloe didn’t move. “Uh, I need my hands for this,” she motioned lifting the hands tied behind her back.

The woman gave an exasperate sigh, and moved to undo the bindings. “I’m not kidding. Any nonsense and I’ll knock you out flat.”

“Got it,” Chloe said as she touched her wrists gingerly, then entered the bathroom. She glanced around. Simple enough. A toilet, a mirror, (the bruise and swollen lip didn’t look as bad as they felt), a soap dispenser, and hand dryer. Chloe took a moment to run cool water over her wrists, and left them damp. But nothing much else here could be used as a weapon, or means of escape. Too bad she hadn’t paid more attention to those old MacGuyver reruns. Chloe eyed the toilet. Maybe she could dismantle the inner workings in the tank, pull out the pump and use something in there as a weapon? She lifted the lid carefully, the heavy porcelain in her hands, and peered inside the tank.

Ms. Assistant was becoming impatient, and moved to open the door, when it opened suddenly, and Chloe emerged wielding the top of a toilet tank swinging it like a baseball bat. She struck the woman, knocking her down and unconscious with one fell swoop, causing the woman’s eyeglasses to fly onto the floor beside her. “Knock me out flat? Not today, sister.” She thought to check the woman’s pulse, but if she touched her, she might heal her and then be incapacitated herself. Instead, Chloe turned, seeking an exit, looking for a way out. No one would ever believe it if she told them. She’d just knocked someone out with a toilet tank cover.

* * * * *

Oliver sat with his elbows on his desk, his head in his hands.

“But you don’t even know where she is!” Bart whined.

Oliver rubbed his forehead, and his eyes caught something in the partially opened top drawer of his desk. Opening the drawer, he pulled out the zip drive Chloe must have tossed there. He picked it up, turning it over in his palm, and on a whim, he looked up. “Victor, see what’s on here.” He tossed it to his friend.

Victor caught it easily, and inserted it into a port in his forearm. His eyes glowed momentarily. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“Mostly Luthorcorp business, internal accounts related stuff.” He paused. “Huh.”

“What?”

“I think I know where Chloe might be.”

Oliver rose from his desk eagerly approaching Victor. “Where?”

“Seems there’s a warehouse facility recently purchased by Luthorcorp in Granville.”

“That’s not far from Smallville,” Clark said, and then looked as though he was focusing on something. “She’s there!” he burst out suddenly.

“How do you know?” Oliver asked.

“Her heartbeat. I know it. And her heart’s beating pretty fast right now.”

“Clark, we need to get there now!” Oliver hesitated a moment. “Clark, can you…?”

“Come on, I’ll get you there.”

End Chapter 13

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