Supergirl locked gazes with the deranged Doctor Willoughby as she slowly eased up the lid of the lead box. She didn’t need to be Kryptonian to recognise the gleam of triumph that was glinting in the doctor’s eyes as she watched the lid edge ever higher, millimetre by millimetre. That told her all she needed to know. Yet a part of her wouldn’t stop. She had kidded herself this was to help placate the doctor, but it was truly just for her own ends, her own …not amusement, that was the wrong word, her own…desire. But not quite what the doctor supposed, this wasn’t her showing off – after all she only had an audience of one- no this was just an urge, a craving to be tested to the limit and prevail.
This time the lead box had an inner lip and no hinges, so the lid had to be lifted off vertically. She held it in her left hand, her right lifting the lid. She was holding it high, just below her eye level and looking across the box at the expectant face of the doctor. The lip posed a problem. It meant she could not take a quick peak inside as she had hoped. No matter. She knew it was some kind of trap, and that knowledge alone was enough to help her brace herself, to steel herself for a shock , for pain. As the lid rose higher she suddenly felt extra force pushing the lid up against her palm, so quick it almost surprised, such that she juddered slightly with her hands almost dropping the lead container. She realised that the box was spring loaded, like a Jack-in-the-Box. She felt the pressure build, until suddenly the lid was free of the base and the full force of the spring was pushing up the inner lining of the box into the lid, as she struggled to keep the top in her grip. She was battling against that force now as suddenly her strength ebbed away. She felt the pain in her forearm first, the one holding the lid; the dreadful sapping ache of Kryptonite. But this was different to her previous exposure. This was …more diverse, a strange sensation as if her strength were being drawn in different directions along the length of the box. As the pain hit her, she sagged slightly, then she winced and her hand started to shake. As she looked at the doctor the scientist beamed happily, content at last. Supergirl clamped her mouth shut, biting down and clenching her teeth. As her jaw locked, she looked steely- eyed at the doctor in defiance, her muscles bulging in her cheeks just in front of her ear. She was biting down so hard her cheeks started to shake slightly as she fought the pain, the pressure against the lid and the overriding urge to release her grip on the box, to fling it across the room as far as possible, to end the burning pain in her limbs that was even now hitting her chest with a dull ache. And that, she realised, was the whole point. It was spring loaded to fling out its contents into the room the moment she released her hold on the lid. But what were its contents? The truth hit her then, just before the Doctor spelled it out for her.
“What’s the matter Superbitch? I told you there wasn’t a big piece of Kryptonite in there. And it’s true.” She grinned. It was true because there wasn’t one big piece but hundreds of smaller shards. All of different purities and drawn from different samples. That was why the effect on her had felt so strange, so diverse – each separate splinter was drawing her strength at a slightly different rate depending upon its content level of the deadly mineral. And the spring loaded base would shower the room with them all, the moment she let go. The burning pain she could feel was from where the box and lid had become misaligned as the spring had pushed the base upwards in that first powerful release. Slightly askew, the contents were even now drawing her life force from her, cell by cell.
Supergirl struggled to hold the lid as it was, poised over the base, barely keeping it in check, fighting the almost irresistible urge to release it , which would have surely killed her. Breathing heavily through her nose she focussed her eyes solidly on the doctor’s, and her will solidly on holding on to the lid. Then slowly, ever so slowly, she realigned the top with the bottom and kept watching the Doctor as the lid slipped down and back into place. She was secretly delighted as she saw the Doctor’s gloating smile of triumph fade and disappear into first confusion , then disbelief, then anger and rage. As the Doctor finally realised what was happening she lunged at Supergirl to stop her closing the lid, but the Girl of Steel was now restored to almost her old self as the box slid shut and she snatched it easily out of the Doctor’s reach.
“NO!!!!” cried the Doctor as she grabbed at it and failed, her swipe clutching at air.
“What?” Supergirl raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Didn’t it ever occur to you, that I was just as capable of shutting it again as I was of opening it?” Supergirl said with a slight smile. Though in truth, she barely had been.
Now it was the Doctor’s turn to grit her teeth as she shook with rage. “You cocky bitch!” She levelled the .45 again. “Well, good. This was how I always wanted it. I set traps in five rooms, but I always hoped it would come down to the very last one, and do you know why? Because in there –“ she angled her head to indicate the control room “- was the last one. And that one was just me. And this.” She hefted the Colt .45 menacingly.
Supergirl glanced at the box, welding the lead lid shut as she did so, turning it in her hand as she ignored the doctor and the brandished gun for a few seconds until she had finished. As she worked, she let out a weary sigh. When done, she set the box back on the table and turned to face the doctor once more. This time it was her turn to feel triumphant. She squared up to the doctor, her hands upon her slender hips, her cape hooked behind her elbows as she looked sternly at her.
“I thought you were going to give up if I opened that box? Oh well, no honour among thieves I guess.” She challenged the ex- geologist
“I don’t need to give up any more, because in a few seconds you’ll be dead.”
“Oh, p-lease!” Kara rolled her beautiful blue eyes to the ceiling then back to stare determinedly at the Doctor. “You of all people must realise bullets can’t harm me? Go ahead give it your best shot, literally.” Supergirl said, having scanned the gun and only found ordinary lead bullets.
“Oh I will!” Willoughby hissed as she levelled the pistol and opened fire.
There were many ways Supergirl could have handled the bullets – she could have avoided them with her super-speed; she could have let them bounce off her impervious body. She chose to simply swat the first shot with her right hand , thereby showing the doctor the futility of firing at her.
In the microsecond before Willoughby fired, Supergirl had already worked out the trajectory of the first shot, worked out exactly where her hand needed to be to intercept it. With her super-speed she flashed her hand up into position ready to catch the bullet.
In those tiny moments as the gun was fired and her hand came up, she could feel the warmth of the explosion in the chamber flashing out from the barrel of the gun, even smell the cordite with her supersensitive nose, as a micro instant later the pressure from the shock wave travelling in the air ahead of the bullet pressed briefly against her palm only to be followed almost instantaneously by the warm lead of the bullet. She felt the lead soften and flex as it hit her hand, could feel the bullet flatten , its head bursting, splitting and peeling back. All that, she felt in an instant. And then a millisecond later she felt the pain.
“AAARRRRGGGGHHH!” she screamed a short, sharp shriek, grabbing the wrist of her injured right hand with her left as she frowned in pain and bewilderment, doubling up as shock stole the breath from her body as now she felt the burning heat in the palm of her hand as her skin was punctured, shredded by dozens of shards of Kryptonite that perforated her, the bullet’s momentum burying them deep within her flesh as they showered out from inside its hollowed out interior.
Her fingers were clawed and shaking as she stared first down at the blood on her hand in surprise and then raised her head, frowning in disbelief as she looked at the beaming face of the Doctor, just in time to see her fire again.
This time the doctor aimed lower, deliberately hitting Supergirl in the centre of her left thigh, just below where the hem of her skirt ended. ”Can’t have you zippin’ about with that super speed of yours , now can we?”
“AAAGGGHHH!” Supergirl screamed again as she felt the lead hit her, soften and fall away, only for the burning pain of the Kryptonite fragments to fill her senses as she released her wrist to clutch ineffectually at her thigh. As she felt all strength leave her leg, it collapsed under her as she dropped down on to her knee, her head arched back in pain, returning slowly to look in horror at the doctor as tears pricked at her eyes.
“N-No…..” she gasped weakly. “P-please….not like this. H-how….?” She began, bewildered by the fate that had befallen her.
“Where better to hide Kryptonite than behind the lead of a bullet, where you an’ those beautiful baby-blues of yours, can’t see it?” The Doctor smiled back at her as she fired again.
The third shot hit her high on the right shoulder, spinning her back to slump against the wall, the spent bullet falling to the floor with a ringing sound of metal on metal just like its spent brothers as her red cape spun about her. Supergirl could feel the draining sensation of having the shards embedded in her skin, each second leaving her weaker than the last. The doctor fired twice more, catching the Girl of Steel in her right forearm with the first as she desperately raised her injured hand to try and protect herself and then grazing across her right ribs, below the raised arm, with her second shot.
Her face was a mask of hatred as she ruthlessly pumped the last four bullets into the stricken heroine. Supergirl finally responded to the danger the only way she was able, with a short sharp burst of her super-breath that caused one bullet to be deflected, missing her completely, ricocheting dully off the lead wall behind her, just passed her cheek. She almost diverted the second, with it barely clipping Kara’s neck but with the graze causing a spectacular spray of red that darkened her cloak. Though the bullet and most of its lethal cargo embedded in the soft lead of the wall, some sharp barbs still managed to plough into her as the bullet head split and parted. But it was a brief, small victory for her. Although she had managed to deflect one and almost avert another, in her weakened state, with her reactions slowed by the poisonous shards already inside her, she was powerless to stop the last two bullets that were delivered mercilessly into her chest, catching her twice in her left breast, one an inch or two above her teat, the other higher, towards the shoulder, just above her heart. The thundering reports echoed around the tiny metal room, bouncing off the lead walls with a resonating ‘boom’, filling her ears as the tears of pain filled her eyes, and the agony of defeat ached in her heart.
“AAA-AA-aaa……..” the scream died in Supergirl’s throat as her body stiffened, arched and then slid down to the base of the wall and lay very still, a bloodied, crumpled form on the floor. Her left leg was folded at the knee, her ankle beneath the knee of her straight right leg; her left arm was outstretched, the wrist bent where it fell against the wall, before sliding down, finally coming to rest against the wall and the floor; her other wounded arm was draped across her breasts. Her head was propped against the wall, her back to the floor; her chin was on her chest; her eyes were screwed up tight as she winced and grimaced, before her head rolled around to rest on her left shoulder; she braced herself against the wall for a moment, then slowly slipped down and her head came to rest on the floor. Her long golden hair was dark in patches and matted with blood from the wound at her neck, lying haphazardly where it had fallen about her. Her face had softened slightly from the mask of pain it had been, but her lips were curled back in a frozen grimace of agony and disbelief as the deep frown on her brow eased into shallow lines of discomfort; her chest heaved once , twice, then with a slow, low, moaning sigh she lay still.
The Doctor walked over to stare down at the seemingly lifeless body. She kicked Supergirl’s right foot, which rocked the bright red boot from side to side on the heel, before coming back to rest in the same position. She did not stir.
Satisfied, the doctor squatted beside the motionless body of her sworn enemy, her forearms on her knees. The Kryptonian seemed smaller now, she thought, as she crouched up close beside the shattered body of the brave young girl who had dared to oppose her. But any thoughts of remorse from her were fleeting. She looked down at the gun, then at the bleeding form on the floor, and casually tossed the weapon away. “That was for you, Richard” she said quietly to herself, taking a deep breath. Twin tear tracks flowed over each cheek as she let out a long slow shuddering sigh of relief that it was all over. Then she straightened up, sniffing loudly , turning her head to face Jarvis who entered from the control room. He had come running when he heard the shots. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with her palms as she blinked the moisture from her eyes.
“Jesus! You’ve- you’ve killed her!” said Jarvis disbelievingly.
“Well, that was kinda the general idea.” Willoughby stood up fully , turning to face him, as she let out a sigh of satisfaction.
“Doc!” Wheeler’s voice entered the room from outside as the sounds of him rattling down the metal steps from the bridge deck above reached them. “DOC!!!” he called again.
“In here” she answered as a moment later he stuck his head into the room.
“Doc!” He said breathlessly. “ They’re on the radio! The Mayor himself – he says they’ll agre- Holy shit!! Is she…?”
Jarvis just nodded. He looked slightly shell shocked by events. “Poor kid.” He whispered quietly to himself, too low for them to hear, as he gazed down at her body. “You poor, poor kid”.
“SHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! Way-to-go-Doc!” Wheeler said admiringly, as he looked at the still form of the once powerful heroine, now just a small, dishevelled, bloody heap.
“What they say?” Willoughby asked irritably.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, shit sorry, er- yeah it’s the Mayor. Said the city agrees to everything. Offerred himself and his wife, in exchange for her, as well as all the money.” Wheeler nodded towards Supergirl’s body.
“Crap! I thought they’d negotiate for a coupla hours, not just agree. Why the hell would I want his wife?” Willoughby asked puzzled.
“I asked that. He said they’ve gone everywhere together for 40 years ain’t gonna split up now. He said he wants to speak to you about coming over with the money. Only condition is he wants to speak with -oh. Problem there. He wants proof of life.” Wheeler said looking at the still form of the bleeding girl lying before him. “You’d better come”.
“Shit. Wasn’t expecting them to cave in so fast. Or at all, really. Can’t believe they’d let the Mayor just waltz over here either… SHIT!!!!.... Oh, crap.” She thought for a moment as she paced back and forth a few steps, one hand on her hip, one grabbing her hair in a bunch at her forehead. “Wait…wait it's ok, they don’t know she’s dead. You say you’re in charge, do the talking, you could say I’m dead or something… no…no, say...say I’m busy but you are in charge anyway, I’ll just put on a weak voice over the radio ‘H-help..me…Mayor’“ she said in weak whisper, disguising her voice as Wheeler nodded approval, before continuing as normal - “over the crackle of the R/T they won’t be able to tell for sure it’s not her…we'll keep it short and sweet....we’ll just have to make sure they can’t see on to the bridge…put the storm shutters down over the windows, that should screen us enough and protect us from any snipers they got." she ordered Wheeler. "That fake message should stall ‘em. I still need a few hours, maybe less. Need to check on deck.” She seemed to mumble the last sentence just for her own benefit, like a memo to herself.
“Few hours for what?” asked Jarvis.
“The escape plan to work.” She lied. She ran her index finger across her pursed lips as she thought. “Yeah, I’ll just pretend to be her. It’ll work. You –“ She turned to Jarvis.
“Throw this …– this trash over the side” she said, jerking a thumb at the bloodied, unmoving body of the golden haired girl in the corner of the room.