The door had been thrown to hopefully catch the attention of the man inside the room, and it had done what he’d wanted it to do. “Oh, but you see, I respect property when it suits me. Unfortunately for you, I’m not in the mood to offer you my respect.” Jor-El wasn’t at all worried about the possibility of security rushing in behind him. If they came they would be taken care of in a humane way, which was more than he would be offering to Lex.
On full alert, he wasn’t going to allow something to be taken and used against him. He flew at him, too fast for his choice of movement to be dodged. A hand was around his wrist, tight enough to cause a surge of pain through the arm. With his grip in place, Jor-El leaned forward slowly, so that his eyes were level with Lex’s and his body too close to be a comfort. His voice was low and dripping with warning when he spoke; it was cold, deadly.
“We can not have that, Lex. It won’t do at all.” By now his hold was a vice, a painful clasp that was strong enough to shatter the bones.