Arrow--Vengeance

by Oscar Balderrama

  He stepped away from her, staring at her as if he had never seen her before. Then he turned to leave.

  “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Oliver,” Isabel called out to him. She looked down at her disheveled clothes, and attempted to fix herself. She walked out of the conference room and into the executive office, tucking her blouse back in and straightening her jacket as she reached for the office phone. She punched in a number.

  “The location has been given,” she said.

  “You have far exceeded all my expectations, Miss Rochev.”

  “Your office will be ready and waiting for you,” Isabel responded, hanging up the phone.

  * * *

  Slade stood on a cold, dark, empty street, wearing his Deathstroke armor. Not a car went down the road. He took the moment to reflect. His plan had taken years to fashion and execute, and the moment of redemption was approaching. Suddenly, in the distance, he saw headlights.

  Here we go.

  The headlights grew closer, and revealed a bus. Slade stood his ground in the middle of the street as the vehicle came to a slow and cautious stop. Passengers were visible, though only as shadowy figures—prison inmates on their way to Iron Heights. They peered out through the windows, their orange jumpsuits all but indistinguishable. The scum of the city—men who would make fine soldiers.

  An officer with a shotgun in tow stepped off the bus.

  “Halloween was six months ago, ass hat,” he said. “Now get off the road or get put down.”

  A moment later the man was staring at his chest, and the sword that protruded from it. The officer fell onto the cement road, crumbling to his death. Two others, still on the bus, reached for their guns—but Slade won the draw, downing them with just two bullets through the windshield. The inmates, unsure of what was happening, just stared. Slade motioned, and they slowly made their way out, one by one.

  “I have a proposal for you men,” he said. “Starling City has turned its back on you. You’ve been called the slime of the city, but you are not. You are exactly what the city needs, you are exactly what I need. Together, you will become an army. With my help you will become stronger than anyone in the world.

  “Your one goal will be to destroy the city, and everyone in it. We will take no prisoners, we will stop at nothing, and after we’re done, we will rule the city.”

  “What if we don’t want to be a part of no army,” one inmate called out. “What if we just want to make a run for it?”

  Having no patience for anyone questioning him, Slade pulled his other sword and lodged it in the inmate’s chest. The man coughed up blood as he slowly fell to the ground.

  “Anyone else have questions?” Slade asked as the rest stared at him in silence. Then he glided past the inmates and entered the bus, placing himself behind the steering wheel. The inmates climbed back onto the bus, as well, taking their seats quietly.

  He pressed his foot to the gas, and drove the bus into the dark of the night.

  15

  “How did the hijack go?” Isabel asked.

  “Everything has been satisfactory so far,” Slade said, taking a seat at his desk. “Do we have Thea’s status?”

  “According to my sources, she hasn’t yet reported to the police, which makes it more likely that she’s shared the news with Moira and Oliver, just as you said she would. It’s just as likely that they’ll want to keep the details to themselves.”

  “Wonderful,” Slade said, and he smirked.

  “Also, I wanted to talk to you about the boy—the one who follows Oliver around in the red hoodie,” Isabel said.

  “Roy Harper. I met him at Queen Mansion—he was a test subject months ago, and was a success. What about him?”

  “Tensions appear to be high over there, and it may be in our best interests to keep an eye on Oliver’s little protégé,” Isabel said. “There may be a way to turn it to our advantage.”

  At that moment, Sebastian Blood barged into Slade’s office, seething with anger.

  “What is it this time, Mr. Blood?” Slade asked without rising.

  “Turn on the news,” Sebastian barked.

  Slade turned to the desktop screen in front of him to stream the news. A surprisingly chipper Bethany Snow delivered the late-night reports, and he turned up the volume.

  “It’s been a wild few hours for the Queen family after Thea Queen, daughter of Moira Queen, was kidnapped and held hostage. At the mayoral debate tonight between Moira Queen and Sebastian Blood, a horrific video played to show Thea’s captor. Then, hours later Thea Queen arrived at the Starling City Police Department, unharmed and claiming that a man named Slade Wilson was the person who kidnapped her.

  “On the political front, in what can only be called a ‘sympathy bump,’ Moira Queen has pulled far ahead of Sebastian Blood in the latest poll, conducted over the last twenty-four hours,” she continued, and Blood slammed his fist on the desk, causing the screen to shake.

  “This whole thing just blew up in our face,” Blood raged. “How the hell do I get elected now? You said I would be mayor, yet you just delivered the election for Moira Queen—and for what? What is this obsession you have with the Queen family?”

  Isabel snickered, but held her tongue.

  “You promised me,” Blood gritted. “Where are your promises now?”

  “I promised you this city,” Slade said, rising suddenly and charging toward the alderman until they were only inches apart. “I promised you an army with which to take it.” He turned to peer at Isabel. “What is our status?”

  “Queen Consolidated Applied Sciences Division is now fully dedicated to replicating a serum based on your blood sample.”

  “You see,” Slade said, calm again. “Everything is proceeding as planned.” He grabbed his suit coat, putting it back on, and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going now?” Blood demanded.

  “To service my ‘obsession’—Oliver Queen needs one more distraction,” Slade said, the ghost of Shado lingering in his mind.

  * * *

  Sebastian turned to face Isabel.

  “I demand that you tell me what is going on with the Queen family,” he said, his voice echoing through the space.

  “Excuse me?” Isabel snapped.

  “The goal of the kidnapping was to push Moira Queen to drop out of the race and search for her daughter. Yet the entire focus seems to be on Oliver—the one member of the family who at least seems to try to do the right thing. The only one I might call my friend.”

  “Friend? God you are a fool, Sebastian,” Isabel snapped back. “Open your eyes, and connect the dots.”

  “Just tell me—what is going to happen to Oliver?” Sebastian said.

  “Don’t be an idiot, Mr. Blood—it’s going to get you killed,” she replied, turning on her heel and heading for the elevator.

  * * *

  Slade knocked on the door to Laurel Lance’s apartment. When she opened it, the look of surprise, tinged with fear, almost made him laugh. She immediately tried to slam it shut, but he easily blocked and pushed his way in, sending her back-pedaling into the living room.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, pointing a black-gloved finger. “I’m not here to harm you.”

  “Go to hell,” she replied.

  “All in good time, I’m sure,” he said. “But before then, I’ve come to Starling City to see Oliver Queen suffer.”

  “Oliver…?” she said. “What? Why?”

  “Because he’s not the man you think he is.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  “Because I know Oliver Queen is the Arrow.” Slade watched as the revelation landed on Laurel. She gasped, stunned by the information. It was the reaction of someone finally realizing a truth long suspected, but buried deep. Then Slade turned… and left.

  He exited her apartment building feeling virtuous. He had dropped a bomb into Oliver’s world, the result of which could only be catastrophic. Slade remembered his first year on the i
sland, and how Oliver had boasted about the most beautiful woman, back in Starling waiting for him. He scoffed at the thought.

  Laurel Lance, Shado, Sara… Slade thought fiercely. He takes whatever he can get from anyone. As he walked, he looked up, and froze in his footsteps.

  Shado stood before him.

  “He never had me,” she confessed to Slade, “I was never his to take.”

  Slade squinted at the beautiful woman standing before him. He took a tentative step closer, then relaxed, seeing that his love was in fact real.

  “I should have been stronger,” he said. “I should have taken you away from him when I had the chance.”

  “You have already done so much for me, Slade,” she answered. “Don’t you see that? You have spent years seeking to get to this moment—and it’s here. I am so proud of you.”

  “I have done all of this for you.” Slade reached out to touch her. “It’s always been you.”

  “I know, and now you need to finish what you started—what we should have done together back in Lian Yu,” Shado said with a glint in her eye. “Kill him.”

  “I will,” he promised. “For you, for us. There are a few more steps before that sweet moment can come.” He took another step closer to Shado, then another, remembering the smell of lilac. He extended his hand, ready to take hers, and she smiled back at Slade—a look both beautiful and devious. Just when Slade was close enough to grab Shado’s hand, take her in his arms, and finally kiss her—

  His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. Involuntarily Slade glanced down, pulled out the phone to check the caller I.D. It was Isabel on the other end.

  When he looked up again, Shado had disappeared, a stealthy phantom in the night. He looked frantically over his shoulder, wondering where she went, and suddenly felt more alone than ever.

  He jabbed his finger to answer the call.

  “What is it, Miss Rochev?” Slade said crisply.

  “Oliver’s protégé, the boy in the red hood,” she said. “As we suspected, he has left Oliver and his friends in the dust.”

  Slade’s eyes widened at the news—a turn of events that not even Slade could have planned so well. He had to capitalize on it.

  “Where are you now?” Slade asked.

  “I’m trailing him. He just crossed over the Starling City border—my guess is that he is headed to Blüdhaven,” Isabel said.

  “Good. Keep me posted as to your location, and I will meet you.” Then he hung up.

  He stood in the street, frozen for a moment.

  “Shado?” he called out, hoping she would reveal herself.

  His heart ached, and the emptiness there left him feeling insignificant. He let the despair rush over his body as he called out her name again, then again, each time a little louder.

  Suddenly Slade’s despair dissipated as it turned into anger, mild at first, then became a boiling rage. He began to walk again, and reached his black Porsche.

  Why are you always leaving me? Slade thought as he clicked on his seatbelt.

  “Because of him,” Shado replied from the back seat, and he could see her in his rearview mirror. “I have to leave you because of Oliver,” Shado said as Slade pressed his foot to the pedal. The Porsche purred down the road leading to Blüdhaven, where Slade would take someone else away from Oliver Queen.

  * * *

  Slade exited his Porsche to find Isabel waiting patiently.

  “Where are we?” Slade asked.

  “A shelter, mostly for broken families that need help. Harper went in about thirty minutes ago.”

  “Very well,” Slade said as he approached the building, “let’s go get Mr. Harper to bring him home.”

  The two entered the shelter, passing through a lobby, and reached a makeshift living room. There was a mother sitting in a rocking chair, reading a book to her child. There were children playing checkers in the corner, and a group of men sat on the other side of the room playing chess. Slade’s eye landed on a club chair, the occupant’s back to them. He motioned to Isabel, the two approached the chair, and saw a red hoodie.

  Slade put his hand on Roy’s shoulder.

  “Down on your luck, kid?” He felt muscles go tense, and he stepped around to face the chair’s occupant.

  “Oliver Queen is a foolish man,” he said.

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Roy snapped back.

  “You are special, Mr. Harper,” Slade pressed. “He doesn’t realize that.”

  “Special? Because I have your crazy serum in me?”

  Isabel rolled her eyes. “Enough lip.”

  Roy stood up, coming face to face with Slade.

  “You may scare Oliver, but you don’t scare me,” Roy said. But Slade just smirked, appreciating his boldness, knowing that this was far too easy.

  “Well, then,” he responded, his brow raised, “lead the way, Mr. Harper.”

  “You’re not even going to fight?” Isabel asked as Roy turned on his heels.

  “Why bother?”

  16

  “Coward.

  “What else would you call someone who needlessly destroys Queen Consolidated Applied Sciences division, in which is housed scientific cutting-edge medical technologies with the sole purpose of making Starling City, and the world, a safer and better place?”

  “That was the statement made this morning by the new CEO of Queen Consolidated, Isabel Rochev,” Bethany Snow reported, “just hours after their Applied Sciences division was brutally destroyed in an explosion, late last night.”

  Slade continued to watch the broadcast, even as Isabel burst into the room, her attitude far less calm than she had exhibited in the news conference.

  “I just lost a quarter of a billion dollar facility,” she raged. “How can you just sit there so relaxed?”

  “Change of strategy. A minor setback, Miss Rochev. Let them have their glory for a fleeting moment. Because it will be just that—only for a moment. We need to reproduce the serum… again. However, this time we have something we didn’t have before.

  “Roy Harper,” Slade said eagerly. “We use Mr. Harper’s blood to replicate the serum—draining him of it in the process.”

  “But we still need a centrifuge large enough and precise enough for the process. How and where are we going to find another one in Starling City?” Isabel demanded.

  “We aren’t,” Slade said. He opened the cabinet that housed his Deathstroke gear.

  “What do you mean, Slade?”

  “Nothing, Miss Rochev. You may keep doubting me, and Oliver Queen may think he is smarter, but I… always win.”

  * * *

  Slade looked around the foundry, peering into shadows. He had retrieved the skeleton key he needed, so he could leave well before Team Arrow returned. Yet without hesitation, Slade decided to stay, eager to send a message. He stood in the middle of Oliver’s underground lair, dressed in his Deathstroke body armor. Then he heard the click of a door on the level above.

  “I know Slade.” It was Oliver. “He’s not going to stop until—”

  “Welcome home.”

  Slade relished the look of shock on Oliver’s face. He was with Sara, Diggle, and Felicity. Slade pulled his Glock and opened fire, scattering the team. He had no intention of killing Oliver. The others, however… if they were lost in the crossfire, so be it.

  Oliver grabbed Felicity and leapt over the railing. Diggle and Sara raced down the stairs and around the perimeter of the lair. Diggle was the only one holding a gun, so Slade continued chasing him with gunfire.

  Diggle hit the breaker box, throwing the lair into darkness.

  Almost instantly Sara charged from the shadows, grabbing the metal bar from Oliver’s salmon ladder, then leaping over Felicity’s workstation to attack. Before she could land, Slade caught her by the throat and held her suspended in the air above him.

  “Hello, Sara,” he said, then with one smooth motion he threw her into a supply table, her momentum taking her past it and into a support po
st.

  One down.

  Diggle, the bodyguard, sprinted out from the shadows, firing his Glock.

  “Diggle!” Oliver shouted. “Stay back!”

  Some of the bullets struck home, but Slade didn’t flinch. They bounced harmlessly off his promethium-enhanced body armor, sparks flying, until the clip was empty.

  “You’re wasting your bullets,” Slade remarked wryly.

  Yet Diggle continued forward, using his gun like a club, punching Slade several times in quick succession across the helmet. The blows had no effect, and once he became bored with the man’s efforts, Slade snatched Diggle’s arm and threw him into the glass case that held Oliver’s Arrow suit.

  Oliver entered the fray, sprinting over a table and snatching up Sara’s bō staff, wielding it over the shoulder like a baseball bat. He let his momentum carry him, and Slade saw him coming. He evaded the swing, unsheathing one of his tactical swords in the process.

  They exchanged a rapid flurry of blows, Oliver splitting the bō staff and wielding the halves like Eskrima sticks, just as they had sparred on Lian Yu. With his enhanced reflexes, though, Slade easily parried his opponent’s assault. Their weapons locked, each pushing into the other, but Oliver was no match for enhanced strength. Slade shifted and pushed the blade into his arm, cutting it.

  Oliver bellowed with pain.

  Slade flipped him onto his back, then knocked him unconscious with a punch to the face.

  “Don’t forget who taught you how to fight, kid.”

  Scanning the room, he confirmed that there would be no more opposition. So he exited the lair, leaving Oliver and his team behind—broken, shaken, message received.

  Nowhere was safe.

  * * *

  THWAT!

  Slade’s knife penetrated the spine of the S.T.A.R. Labs security guard, and the sound echoed down the hall. He continued on, firm in his resolve. The Arrow believed he had stymied Slade by destroying his centrifuge.

  Not this time, kid, Slade thought to himself as he stalked the Starling City facility, decked out in his Deathstroke armor. Superior even to Queen Consolidated, S.T.A.R. housed the most cutting-edge technologies.