“I was dead the last time you were offered this choice,” Slade said.
“What’s happening?” Thea cried as Oliver struggled to sit up, testing the rope. It held fast, as Slade knew it would.
“I often wondered how you looked when he pointed the gun at Shado,” he said, kneeling down to Oliver’s eye level, “and took her from me.”
“You psychopath,” Oliver gritted. “Shado wasn’t yours.”
“No, she was yours,” Slade rasped. “Until you chose another woman over her.”
“That’s not what happened!”
“It is what happened. It is! She told me.” He pointed to Shado.
“What do you mean, ‘she’?” Oliver demanded. “There’s nobody there!”
“Slade,” Moira said. “You were on the island, with Oliver?”
“I thought I had known true despair, until I met your son,” he responded, staring down to where she slumped at his feet. “I trusted him to make the right choice.”
“Let me make the right choice now,” Oliver said, his voice pleading. “Kill me. Choose me… please!”
“I am killing you, Oliver.” Slade pulled a gun from beneath his black overcoat. “Only more slowly than you would like.” He pointed the gun at Moira.
“Choose.”
Then at Thea.
“Choose.”
The women gasped in fear.
Oliver strained at his bonds.
“I swear to God, I am going to kill you!”
“CHOOSE!”
“No,” Moira said. Twisting her body, she stood to face Slade.
“Mom, what are you doing?” Oliver cried.
“There’s only one way this night can end,” she continued, facing her captor. “We both know that, don’t we, Mr. Wilson?”
Oliver and Thea both pleaded with their mother, their words tumbling out, but she ignored their pleas, and stood firm. Slade met her gaze, then raised his gun.
“Thea, I love you,” Moira said. “Close your eyes, baby.”
“NO!” Oliver shouted, still struggling in vain.
“You posses true courage,” Slade said, pocketing his gun. “I am truly sorry…”
“What?” Moira said.
“…you did not pass that on to your son.”
Then he unsheathed his sword and drove the steel straight through her heart. Her body fell to the ground, lifeless eyes staring at Oliver. Thea cried inconsolably.
“There is still one person who has to die,” Slade said, stalking toward Thea, “before this can end.” Instead of killing her, he sliced the ropes that bound her hands. Then he walked away into the night.
One more life, then his revenge would be complete.
19
Slade returned to the abandoned warehouse near Collins and Main, just as the sun was getting ready to rise. He walked in to find Isabel sparring with one of the mirakuru soldiers. She was stronger than ever. She looked up and hesitated as he entered, dragging his sword behind him.
It still glistened with Moira Queen’s blood.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” Slade instructed.
She nodded and continued, using a bō staff to land a solid blow against the side of the soldier’s head. Astonishingly, she felt her power grow with each hit.
“This serum… it really is miraculous,” she said between breaths. She landed another strike, harder than the last, and sent him to the ground. “Although the army… may need a little work.”
“They are strong and ready,” Slade said.
Isabel cocked her head to the side, noticing Slade’s sword.
“You want to tell me something?” she asked with curiosity. “Did you decide to kill Oliver earlier than expected?” She suppressed a giggle at the thought.
“Moira, actually,” Slade said coldly, turning his back to her and walking away.
“What?” she yelped. “That’s it?! That’s all I get?” She followed him. “I’ve been visualizing her death for years, and now you claim it’s a done deal.”
In the next room Slade stopped to view the video feed from the Queen Mansion. Everything was still. It reminded him of his surveillance of the Queen family from A.S.I.S. Yet soon everyone would arrive and he would have a front row seat. Diggle, Felicity, Laurel, Quentin, and Walter Steele—they would all be under the same roof—
—and suddenly an idea sprang into Slade’s mind.
“You have to go attend the service, Miss Rochev,” Slade said, staring at empty rooms.
“Over my dead body,” Isabel said, then she cocked her head as she heard her own words. “I hated that woman—I’m not going to mourn her.”
“You must make an appearance,” he insisted. “Show them you are alive and well—intimidate them. I want them to be frozen in fear when they see you at the house.”
She started to answer, then stopped, letting the concept settle in.
“I understand,” she said at last.
“Have you heard from the next mayor of Starling City?” Slade asked. With Moira out of the way, Blood would take office immediately.
“No, he hasn’t called to check in,” she responded. “Now that he has what he wants, how are you going to make sure he stays in line?”
“I have my ways of keeping our mayor… motivated,” Slade said.
* * *
The mood was palpable when Sebastian entered Queen Mansion. This soon after his induction, he had to hide the elation he was feeling. He had done it—after months of endurance and struggle—but for now, he had to play the concerned leader of a city that had suffered a tragic loss.
The first person he encountered was Thea, her face white and emotionless.
“Ms. Queen,” he said, “I wanted to offer my sincere condolences on your loss. Your mother was a good woman. She would have made a wonderful mayor.”
“Thank you,” Thea responded.
“I’d like to speak with Oliver,” Sebastian said, “if I may.”
“Well, if you see him, tell him he missed his own mother’s funeral.”
“No one’s seen Oliver for days,” Laurel said over Sebastian’s shoulder. He turned and stared at her, burying his disdain, bordering on hatred. Felicity Smoak and John Diggle entered the room, as well.
“We all deal with grief in different ways,” he said, “and the loss of a parent is…” His words trailed off as he remembered his mother. “Well, it changes you. When you realize that your ancestors now look to you—that your family’s legacy, their continuing works, rest solely in your hands. If you see Oliver, please tell him I came by.”
He turned away from Laurel, headed for the door.
* * *
Laurel stared at his back, smelling something wrong. She looked over to Felicity and Diggle, who stood across the room. Felicity was weeping, and Laurel thought it was as much for Oliver as it was for Moira. Diggle handed her a tissue.
“Where is he, Dig?” she asked, her eyes red behind her glasses. “How could he not be here?”
“I don’t know…” Diggle said.
“If Oliver’s smart,” Isabel Rochev said, entering the room, “he ran back to his island to hide.” They stared at her, shock preventing them from responding. “But maybe he’ll attend your funerals,” she said, turning and walking off.
* * *
Mayor Blood sat his desk, signing documents, surrounded by reporters. Reveling in the moment.
“This legislation is the first step toward making Starling City the jewel that it once was,” he pronounced. “The jewel that it can be again.”
His assistant approached through the throng of reporters.
“Phone call for you, Mayor Blood.”
“I’m still getting used to people calling me that, Alyssa,” he said cheerfully. “Please take a message.”
“The caller insisted,” she replied. “He said he’s your father.”
“That’s impossible…” he said, but he stopped himself before he could say any more. “Never mind. I’ll take it.” He picked up th
e receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Sebastian,” Slade said, his tone threatening. “Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to check in and see how your first day is going.”
“Very well, thank you,” Blood replied, wary of the fact that there were still reporters gathered round. “But I’m a little busy right now, so if you’ll allow me to call you back, I’ll do that as soon as I can.”
“No need,” Slade said. “I’m sure you have quite a lot of business to attend to. You are the mayor now, after all.
“So get to work.” The line went dead, and he hung up, his mind racing. He finally was mayor, but he owed a debt to Slade that was yet unpaid.
What would be the cost?
He knew what the man was capable of doing.
* * *
Isabel burst into Verdant and found Thea Queen working at the bar, wiping it down.
Excellent work ethic, she mused, especially for a Queen. She extended her hand to shake. “Isabel Rochev.”
“I know who you are,” Thea replied brusquely, continuing her work. “What can I do for you, Ms. Rochev?”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Thea,” Isabel said.
“Is that why you came here? To offer me your condolences?”
“My condolences… and to give you this.” She set her briefcase on a barstool, opened it, pulled out some paperwork, and handed it to Thea. “It’s a notice to vacate the premises. This club and the steel factory in which it’s located are all assets of Queen Consolidated.”
“No, you can’t do this!” Thea said, instantly deflated.
“It’s already done.”
“How long do I have?”
“A couple days.” Isabel turned to go, but paused. “Thea, I know I’m probably the last person in the world you want to hear this from, but I’ve stood where you’re standing right now.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Thea replied with a sneer.
“Maybe. But I know what it feels like to be alone—to have everyone in your life, everyone you loved, betray you.” Isabel could tell that her words struck a chord. “I thought my life was over, too. Until someone helped me see that I’d actually been given a gift—the chance to start over, to build a new life.” She continued toward the door. “Think about it.”
As she closed the door behind her, she remembered how young she had been when she had met Robert. Thea had been dealt a bad hand in a life she couldn’t control. She looked somewhat like him, and for a second Isabel felt regret, knowing that she had just stripped away everything the girl had.
* * *
When she returned to her office at Queen Consolidated, Slade was waiting. He had used her computer to tune into his hidden camera feed from the Queen mansion.
“You shouldn’t do that,” she said. “It can be traced.”
“You’re just in time to watch some heartbreak, Ms. Rochev,” he replied, ignoring her comment.
She sidled up to him, viewing the screen over his shoulder. Oliver and Thea were standing together in the empty sitting room, the furniture covered with tarps. Slade brought her up to speed. After Isabel had taken Verdant from her, Thea had decided to leave Starling City. Oliver supported her decision, and implored her to get as far from Starling City as possible.
“You have the purest heart,” Oliver told Thea, “and I can’t ever have you lose that. Okay? You promise me?”
“Okay,” she said, and then Oliver hugged her. It was a desperate embrace, of the sort given by someone who was about to set forth on a journey from which they didn’t expect to return.
“I know that I haven’t always been the best brother,” he said. Even on the grainy security cam footage, it was easy to see the tears pooling in his eyes. “Or friend, or whatever you’ve needed me to be—but there hasn’t been a day since you were born where I didn’t cherish having you as a sister.”
“So touching, isn’t it?” Slade said, as the screen showed Thea leaving the room. He switched to a different camera, and they watched her exit the mansion.
“I’m surprised you even let him say goodbye,” Isabel commented. Secretly, there was a part of her that hoped Thea would make it out of the city before it was brought to rubble.
Switching back to the sitting room, they watched as Oliver pulled out his phone and tapped in a number. Then Isabel’s phone began to ring. Glancing at it, she turned to Slade. “It’s him.”
“Then let us see what the rat has to say.”
Isabel switched to speaker and answered.
“It’s Oliver,” he said.
“I was just thinking about you,” she replied. “Your sister was very sad when I took her club away.”
“This ends now,” he said, getting straight to the point. His voice sounded hollow, as if all the fight was gone.
“The mighty Oliver Queen is surrendering?” she responded. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I’ll be at the pier. I’ll be alone.” Then he ended the call.
On screen, Oliver wandered over to the mantle over the fireplace, touching it as if to say goodbye. Then he exited the mansion, just as Thea had.
Isabel turned to Slade. “He’s given up. Like a coward.”
“No,” Slade said. “Surrendering is too easy. He must suffer. If he’s truly broken, then now is the perfect time to begin our siege.
“Get ready. We attack tonight.”
20
In Starling City, the place to see and be seen was Rokkaku, a high-end restaurant located a few blocks from City Hall. Located on the top floor of the tallest skyscraper in downtown, it was both the literal and figurative mountaintop of the city’s social scene—and Sebastian Blood was its newly crowned king. It was customary for every new mayor to dine there on his first day in office to meet and greet the social elite.
Blood had always hated this ritual. It was symbolic of the very evils he hoped to expunge from his city, yet as he stepped off the elevator, the fact that he found himself welcomed by these people was oddly validating. He also pitied them, for they had no inkling of the destruction that was about to commence.
For this evening, however, he would enjoy a meal on their dime. It was a moment he wanted to enjoy by himself. He turned to Clinton Hogue, still acting as his bodyguard.
“Clinton, you can wait in the car,” he said.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Hogue said.
“Nothing’s going to happen to me here.”
Hogue nodded, and headed back toward the elevators. Sebastian entered the restaurant, glad-handing his way through the dining area, making the rounds. It was a strange feeling, being the center of attention after he had struggled his entire career just to get people to listen. It was a feeling he could get used to. But that reverie was shattered when he found Oliver Queen, seated at his table, staring at him with an intensity that was unnerving.
“Sebastian, may I join you for dinner?”
Blood tried to mask his surprise. He nodded as he slowly took his seat.
“I missed you at your mother’s memorial service,” Blood said. “I wanted to offer my condolences.”
“You’re the mayor,” Oliver replied. “Congratulations. You’ve always wanted that.”
“Believe me, Oliver, I wish it had happened a different way. Your mother and I, we didn’t agree on much, but we both wanted what was best for Starling City. I will help this city find its heart again, I promise you that.”
Oliver leaned across the table, dropping his voice low under the din.
“Do you really think that he will let that happen?”
Blood felt his defenses rise. He tried to play it off, tilting his head slightly in question, and feigning nonchalance.
“Do I think who will let it happen?” he responded.
“Slade Wilson.”
Blood swallowed. “How do you…” The words caught in his throat. “How do you know I’ve been working with Wilson?”
“Because I’m the Arrow.”
Blood
sat back, his mouth open but saying nothing. Then he scoffed at his own ineptitude, shaking his head.
How could I have been so dense? he wondered. “Of course,” he said, lowering his voice to match Oliver’s. “It all makes sense now. It was right in front of me.” He leaned forward, hoping to convince his friend that they were still allies. “You came to my office and you shook my hand. You said that together we can save this city.”
Oliver was incredulous. “You think there will be a city to be saved, after you unleash Slade’s mirakuru army?”
“It’s under control,” Blood replied. “They’ll only cause enough damage to make the city ready.”
“Ready for your leadership?”
“For my vision of what this city can be. A better place to live—and after the storm they’re about to suffer, the people will support me, and follow me to that city.”
“Whatever Slade promised you, he won’t deliver,” Oliver said. “He wants to hurt me. You’re just a pawn in a much larger game.”
Blood felt his anger rise, and with it came conviction.
“Slade promised me City Hall, and he delivered. He makes good on his promises.” Then he brought his cup of tea slowly to his mouth, his eyes gleaming. “I understand he made you a promise, too.”
Anger took hold of Oliver. On instinct, he reached for a dinner knife. Blood noticed, and leaned back.
“What are you going to do?” he asked grimly. “Are you going to stab the mayor in a restaurant full of people?” Knowing he had the upper hand, he relaxed with a smirk. Oliver couldn’t touch him—nor could the Arrow. Then he rose from the table, buttoning his coat. “It’s a new day in Starling City, Oliver, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
Blood exited the restaurant, feeling Oliver’s eyes burning a hole through his back. Yet once out of sight, his confidence began to falter.
Was Oliver right about Slade Wilson?
Why had he withheld Oliver’s secret identity?
* * *
He arrived back at the car to find it empty. It was unlike Hogue to just up and disappear without giving word. There had to be a reason, and that worried Blood. He tried to call the man, but his attempts went unanswered, and he began to suspect the worst.
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