When people spoke of the art capitols of the world, it was always Paris…Rome…New York. Those were the cities that sat at the pinnacle for most. In art school, most of his classmates had spent a summer or two abroad in Paris. They came back, stating that there was no more inspiring a place than the City of Light.
Roy had nothing against those cities. They were impressive in their scale, and in their collection of historical artworks. He had visited each, numerous times over the years. But he never truly felt inspired by them. He didn't know why.
For Roy, the most inspiring city in the world was Prague. There was something about the city that spoke to him. He almost felt like the city understood him in a way that nowhere else had before. He felt more connected to the artists, the architecture, the night life. If he had to choose one place to live in for the rest of his life, it would always be there
That didn't mean he hadn't made a few stops along the way.
Two months ago he had been in Paris. Touring the Louvre, walking along the Seine, sitting in coffee shops and sketching in his notebook. All the things that artist did when they visited that great city.
Of course, he had been doing those things as part of a heist with Shawna and Lisa. No one looked twice at one more artist in the city. He could sit in front of the bank they were casing for hours and no one questioned him. Just another artist inspired by the city, by all the beauty around him.
Of course, becoming a cliché had paid off handsomely. Between the three of them, they walked away with a couple hundred thousand a piece. It had been a relatively simple job. One they could have done with minimal planning and without the use of their powers.
Honestly, Lisa's plan should have taken roughly three days to put into motion. It ended up being closer to three weeks. They kept getting distracted. They would go over the blue prints for five minutes, then spend the next few hours talking about what was happening back in Central City. Whether anyone had heard from Digger. How Axel was fitting in with the other Rogues.
Roy was able to admit that the actual heist was just an excuse to meet up with them again. Shawna had been out of Central for almost four months by that point. Traveling the world on her own. She had seemed genuinely happy to see both Roy and Lisa.
She had spent the first few days telling them about everywhere she had been. Showing them the list of countries she had knocked off. Where she had pulled a few heists.
"I swear man, if Central doesn't work out, we should all pick up and move to the Netherlands. It was so beautiful. And their security was like ten years behind what we have in Central now. They barely know what metahumans are. I think one security dude thought I was a witch or something, started crossing himself."
Lisa and Shawna had traded stories over who had stolen the most jewelry in the past few months. Roy had to admit the amount of gold jewelry Lisa had in her luggage was impressive.
Lisa had just laughed it off. Saying that stealing jewelry was the easiest way to make money. Even if you never sold it. Wearing expensive jewelry opened all kinds of other doors.
"I'm telling you Shawna. Stop breaking into banks. The easiest marks are the ones that invite you inside. I was at this gala a few weeks back in Rome and I was able to snatch most of these right off the necks and wrists of heiresses and socialites. Most won't even notice they are missing. Tell you what, you and I are going to buy some new dresses tomorrow, then we are going to find a fundraiser or something and we can work on your slight of hand. Have you been working on…"
"Making just parts of myself go sort of incorporeal without actually teleporting anywhere? A little bit, but it's been slow going. It's like, once I try to use my powers, my body knows that means I need to get away. So my whole body just jumps."
"Well, we can always do it the old fashioned way. Nothing like a pretty smile and plunging neckline to distract some creepy old man long enough to steal his wallet."
Roy had been content to sit and listen to them, painting the Paris skyline from the luxury apartment Lisa had managed to get for them. It was opulent, so much so that Roy almost wanted to lecture Lisa on wasting so much money on an apartment.
Even with all the money she had now, Roy doubted that Lisa had to pay for this room.
A friend of a friend had lent her the keys, she had said with a wink.
Roy didn't turn away from the painting. Watching the flickering lights outside the window. Trying to capture the movement of the city with his brush strokes.
"I could use a new watch."
Lisa had slipped off the bed and came to stand behind Roy. She put an arm around his shoulders.
"Well, why didn't you say so Roy? Gold or silver?"
"Not like I will be able to tell the difference."
Shawna leaned back on the bed, kicking off her shoes. He imagined those sheets must cost more than most people spent on a new tv.
"Definitely silver, that's more your style. Anything else when we are out? I'm sure the old guys at the party will have all kinds of fun things to take. New top hat? Oh, no wait, a monocle!"
Roy smirked.
"I think I'm good."
The girls had gone out the next night. They were only gone for approximately two hours. They brought back seven different watches for him to choose from. And two men's winter jackets, both roughly his size. Roy wasn't sure how they knew his size, but wasn't going to question it. It was going to be cold in Prague while he was there. They had dozens of women's watches and bracelets as well. All spread out over the bed, he couldn't imagine how they had managed to take so much without being seen.
Shawna dropped a monocle into his hand. Roy had smiled at the ridiculousness of it.
"I don't even want to know how you got this."
"Oh. It's a pretty good story. Though we might have had to pull a page from Mick's book."
"You started a fire to steal me a monocle."
"A small fire. And it was just the distraction so we could walk out with our take. I just happened to see a dude with a monocle on the way out and couldn't resist. I mean…come on. Who still has a monocle? Dude was basically the Monopoly mascot. He was asking for his shit to get stolen, wearing something like that."
Lisa had pulled the three of them into, at least on Roy's part, a very reluctant selfie. She texted it to Cold back in Central. The man still insisting that they check in every week, no matter where they were. And no cell service was not a valid excuse to miss a check in. As Shawna had learned when she was in Ireland.
"I'm chilling in this pub in the middle of freaking nowhere and this old man walks up to me and is like…are you Shawna? I thought he knew me from the news or something but he just shoved a freaking rotary telephone at me and Cold was on the other line. How the hell does he do that? I mean, how did he know where I was?"
"Oh don't get me started on Lenny being able to find someone. Imagine being sixteen and trying to sneak off with your boyfriend…"
Roy had stayed relatively up to date on what was happening in Central since he had left. Hartley and Mark he texted rather frequently. Usually just pictures of things he was planning on stealing or some interesting art he thought Hartley might appreciate.
And then there was Axel.
Who had a tendency to live-tweet Rogue heists.
Roy had never understood the social media craze that most people were enthralled with. Being a wanted criminal usually meant not doing anything that could lead the cops to your location. Keeping off of the radar and out of the public eye.
Axel had apparently decided to take the opposite approach.
In the past month Roy had learned the difference between Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, Vine, and Snapchat.
All words which would have been completely meaningless to him very recently. And he might have continued to ignore Axel's self aggrandizing posts on the various media outlets. Until Hartley had sent Roy a video of a recent heist.
Axel had somehow managed to convince nearly two hundred of his followers to show up to a bank robbery and do a flash mob performance of Smooth Criminal.
In the middle of the street.
Completely blocking the cops from being able to pursue the Rogues.
Roy had been following the kid on Twitter ever since.
Roy was certain Cold would find the kid's antics infuriating.
"Oh I thought Lenny was going to freeze the kid on the spot when he realized the cops had shown up 30 seconds early because Axel had posted a photo of the bank during one of the first jobs he was a part of. Mick somehow managed to talk Len out of it."
"I can't believe that Mick Rory is being the level headed one."
"Apparently he thinks the kid has potential. And Mick is rarely wrong about that. Figures if Axel lives long enough, he might grow out of this psycho murderer phase Jesse tried to mold into him."
Shawna had left before Axel had even healed from his wounds. So she didn't really have an opinion on the newcomer. Although she did have a tendency to scowl when his name was brought up. Walker had almost killed her with a bomb at Jesse's rally.
Roy hadn't spent much time with Walker either. The kid had been skittish at first. Which was understandable. Roy had spent most of his first few weeks with the Rogues watching his back. Waiting for one of the others to stab him the second he dropped his guard.
Not to mention the kid was still dealing with the fact that Jesse wasn't his father. Axel had latched onto the idea of someone caring about him so fiercely, he had broken the man out of a maximum security prison. Had poisoned an entire room full of people. Had dropped bombs on school kids.
All because he thought he had found his real family.
Because he thought his father had loved him.
It was that kind of unquestioning, unbridled loyalty that Jesse had exploited. And it was going to be hard to convince the kid that anyone would ever be truly loyal to him. That the Rogues, while also being criminals, weren't the same as Jesse.
They meant it when they said they had his back.
As long as he had theirs.
And he followed the rules.
Which, Roy was slightly uneasy with the thought of. He wasn't sure Axel would ever follow any sort of rules laid out. The kid thrived on anarchy, on the spectacle of it all. On the thrill of the gunshots and the sirens blaring.
Course the same could have been said for Digger. And up until his betrayal, the man had actually followed the rules.
"Any word from..."
"Nothing. Although Lenny doesn't seem too worried about it yet. If another couple months go by and we still haven't heard anything, then he'll pull out all the stops. Find our resident creeper wherever he might be hiding."
Roy had nodded at Lisa's words. It made sense. Roy didn't know how much time it would take Digger to relocate Owen and his family. Didn't want to go looking for them only to lead someone else to the trail. They would just have to wait and see if Digger popped up again.
Roy left a little under two months after Shawna had. Once Hartley was completely healed and Mark was back to being a pain the ass.
Hartley had spent most of his time during recovery working on different projects in his room. The kid had been bed ridden for weeks, which caused his already short temper to flare out. Roy had walked into Hartley's room and almost been beamed in the head by some sort of mechanical device.
Hartley hadn't apologized, just glared at Roy like it was his fault that what he had built wasn't working.
Roy bent over and picked up the…glasses?
"You planning on shooting sound waves out of your eyes? That seems dangerous."
Hartley had huffed and rolled his eyes.
"Obviously not. They aren't for me."
"Ah. These the ones for Shawna that…"
"No. Look just…never mind alright. It's pointless. It's just something I have been working on in my spare time for the past year or so and I'm no closer than I was then."
Roy turned the glasses over in his hand. They looked like ordinary sunglasses, similar to the ones Roy normally wore. But the lenses clearly weren't made of regular glass. And there was some kind of strange electrical wire surrounding them that lead to a small battery on the back left earpiece. The right earpiece had a button on it.
"Who are these for then?"
Hartley rolled his eyes again.
"They were for you. But biology is not my area of expertise and even though I have tried every single permeation in the visible spectrum and some in the non-visible I have been able to overcome the ocular…"
"You made me glasses."
"Yes."
"To…"
"They don't work."
Roy looked at Hartley. Kid was avoiding his gaze. Angrily pulling at some pieces of wire attached to his computer. Roy glanced at the hearing aids in Hartley's ears. The ones he had created for himself.
Ah.
"You were trying to cure my color blindness?"
Roy was…incredibly touched.
"Kid…"
"Yes, I know. I shouldn't have said anything. Believe me, I know there is nothing worse than some asshole telling you they are going to make you better and then failing spectacularly. I didn't want to give you false hope in case it couldn't be done, which clearly…" Hartley trailed off. Waving at hand at the glasses in Roy's hands.
Roy looked closer at it. Hartley had spent how many countless hours trying to find a way to allow Roy to see in color. Roy didn't know how to respond to something like that.
"Why would you…"
"I…owed you."
Roy knew that Hartley meant something entirely different than what he had actually said. Maybe he had started out working on this as a way to pay Roy back for some act that Roy had done. Though what the kid could be referring to, Roy wasn't sure.
Everything was square between them. Always had been.
So Roy just took the glasses and handed them back to Hartley. The young genius took them back hesitantly.
"While I appreciate the sentiment, I don't think glasses that allow me to see in color would work very well on the job. Especially if I can't use my powers with them on."
Hartley raised an eyebrow.
"You have something else in mind?"
"Well…it is rather inconvenient that I have to look someone directly in the eye in order to influence them. And I can really only do it one at a time. Sure if people are standing in a row I can hit them all at once. My powers are mostly defensive. But maybe if there was a way to amplify my powers, maybe if the glasses could refract them somehow into…"
"A beam of condensed energy. It could magnify your power, then focus it in a beam that could cover a wide area…You might not even have to hit them in the eyes, if the beam was strong enough. The emotional wave would hit them and they would have to react. Although that could decrease the intensity of the emotions and your ability to…"
Hartley was already writing notes down on his laptop. Changing and adding designs so quickly Roy could barely follow what he was saying.
Roy had walked out of the room when it was clear to him that Hartley was no longer aware that Roy was still there. Roy wasn't even sure if what he had suggested was possible. He had simply wanted to give Piper something else to focus on, to not think that he was failing Roy by not fixing his colorblindness.
Being colorblind was something Roy had come to terms with years ago. With only minor resentments still lingering.
Maybe slightly more than minor, but that was his problem.
Not Hartley's.
Hartley was still working on the glasses when Roy had left Central. Promising him they would be working by the time Roy got back from his "little sabbatical."
Roy had stayed in the US for a little while, before booking a flight to Europe. He hadn't lingered for long in London, the city had never really appealed to him.
Maybe it was just that he didn't like all the rain.
Once the heist with Lisa and Shawna was done, Roy took the money and bought himself an apartment in Prague. Lisa had said she was off to Venice, and Shawna had mentioned something about China.
For the past two months had been painting, walking the old streets, and breathing in the city around him. He spent most of his days, and his money, working on his craft. Living the sort of life that he had always dreamed off back in art school. So the money he had didn't come from his paintings, didn't mean he didn't still deserve it. He just considered the money they stole as donations from wealthy benefactors.
In the four months since he had left Central, he hadn't had to use his powers. Which was both odd and somewhat strangely comforting. He was just another artist in Prague. Or just another thief in Paris. No one looked at him as anything else.
Not that he didn't miss the excitement of Central City. But it was good to get away for a while. To spend some of that money they had been accumulating. To breathe in a world outside of the one that had become familiar.
Which wasn't to say he had forgotten what he was. He was still a meta human, still a criminal, still wanted by several government agencies. He may occasionally let his guard down when he was alone in his apartment. But never when he was in public, no matter how innocuous the situation.
He was sitting at his regular café, drinking an espresso and casually checking Axel's twitter feed, when he felt a familiar sensation at the back of his neck.
He was being watched.
He made no outward signs, simply continued to drink his coffee. When he finished, he stood and casually headed in the opposite direction of his apartment. There was an art museum only a few blocks from here. One he liked to frequent, there would be no reason for anyone to doubt that he would want to go there.
He walked slowly, as though he was completely unaware that there were now two men following him.
They were dressed like tourists, both in their late twenties or early thirties. They even had street maps in their hands. But Roy knew the truth. He had been a criminal long enough to be able to spot a tail.
Roy stopped walking, pretending to look at something in a nearby convenience store window. The two men stopped as well, taking a photo of a nearby cathedral. Roy discreetly took a quick photo of the two men and sent it to Hartley.
Being followed. Not local. ARGUS?
Cold had warned them all to be extra cautious if they thought they had been spotted. Roy could tell these weren't city cops who had simply happened to see an international criminal.
These were professionals.
Roy's phone buzzed.
Running it now. Get somewhere with security cameras so I can track you.
Roy ducked into the museum. If Roy needed a quick extraction, Hartley could forward the video from the security cameras to Shawna's phone. If she was too far away, he would provide her with some live streams of countries along the way. Then she could quickly pop in for the save.
Roy looked behind him, pretending to admire a statue in the lobby.
Huh.
The men were gone.
Roy could see them through the glass entrance doors, they had walked by without glancing in his direction.
Roy's phone buzzed again.
Not ARGUS. Stay there, I'll check a few more databases
Roy wandered further into the museum, keeping himself in clear sight of the security cameras.
A text from Shawna arrived a few minutes later.
Need a lift?
He responded quickly. Well, as quickly as he was able to text. It still irked him when he didn't use proper punctuation, but in the interest of time…
Probably not might have been nothing
Nice jacket
Roy looked up at a security camera and smirked.
It was the jacket Shawna had stolen for him in Paris. Said it made him look like all the other fancy artists.
Roy wandered aimlessly through the museum. Passing through the different wings slowly. He examined several of the more interesting pieces for longer than most people would. He wanted to examine the brush strokes, he wanted to see where the technique bled into the creativity of the artist.
He was standing in a room filled with modern art when his phone buzzed once more.
Facial recognition came up with nothing. They still following?
Havent seen them
They aren't on any of the security cameras. Looks like you are clear.
Thanks Hart
Roy quickly sent Shawna a message.
False alarm, sorry
Don't be, pretty sweet museum. Pick me up something pretty.
Roy looked around. He was surrounded by statues, most of which weighed considerably more than he would be able to lift.
Doubt I can sneak out of here with a statue
What about the one on your left with the people and the boat?
Roy glanced to his left, it was a painting of a field of flowers. People and the boat? What the hell was Shawna looking at?
Boat?
Yea, the sinking one
Roy stopped walking suddenly, he called Shawna. She answered with an amused tone.
"You know Roy if you want…"
"Do you see me talking to you on the phone?"
"What…oh. Shit, Roy…"
Roy hung up. He dialed Hartley's number. His heart beating rapidly in chest. His instinct were screaming at him to just start running.
The painting of the boat was two hallways back.
"Yes?"
"The security cameras are on a ten minute delay."
"What? Hold on I…"
The call was cut off abruptly.
Roy looked down at his phone but it showed no cell service.
Suddenly, all the lights in the museum went out. None of the standard back ups or emergency lights came on.
It was complete darkness.
Roy felt a hand cover his mouth and a needle was jammed into his neck.
Roy tried to struggle, tried to fight, but his arms began to feel weak. He was having trouble staying on his feet.
He felt rough hands grasp his arms and start to pull him away.
He had to escape. He had to get away quickly before whatever drugs they injected him with took their toll.
He could feel his body turning against him. He activated his powers, it was almost pitch black in the museum, but they were headed for an exit. He would have to hit anyone he saw with rage, hoping the distraction would be enough for him to get away.
The men who grabbed him dragged him through the door. He saw them flash badges at the security guards. He hadn't been in the country long enough to have fully learned the language, but he recognized one word.
Thief.
His powers were weakening, he didn't know if he would be able to effect anyone. He had to try.
He locked eyes with almost a dozen people.
None of them reacted to his powers.
How...he could feel his powers activating. His eyes should be glowing red...why weren't…
"Don't worry Mr. Bivolo, this will all be over soon."
Damn it. He was starting lose focus. His vision was blurring at the edges. He jerked his arm one way, quickly trying to grasp the gun he could see in his captor's jacket.
Roy wouldn't have time to pull the gun, he just wrapped his hand around the trigger and pulled.
The sound of the gunshot startled the crowd gathering outside the museum.
The man fell to the ground, grabbing at his leg where the bullet had entered. Roy wrenched his arm away from the remaining captor and tried to run.
He heard several more gunshots, but Roy kept running. He didn't turn, didn't try to see if the men were following him.
He just had to get away.
He managed to slip down an alleyway, past a point where he knew several of the homeless of the city liked to congregate.
He was having trouble breathing. The drugs he had been injected with were catching up with him. He hadn't made it nearly far enough. He had to keep moving.
He stumbled and hit the ground.
He tried to get up, but his arms and legs didn't respond.
He turned his head, trying to see if they were right behind him.
That's when he noticed the trail of blood on the ground.
Huh.
He looked at his chest, there was a large blood stain seeping through his shirt.
Damn.
His jacket was ruined.
Shawna would be upset.
Which was an odd thing to think about when you were bleeding to death in an alley. But it seemed to be a legitimate concern in his mind.
Bastards must have shot him in the back when he tried to run.
He couldn't move his arms to try and stop the bleeding. Couldn't try to escape. Couldn't even attempt to defend himself.
He heard footsteps. At some point he had closed his eyes, and was now oddly unable to open them again.
He felt a hand pull open his jacket.
Rummaging through his pockets.
If he still had the energy, he might have laughed. He was being robbed.
They took his shoes.
His head knocked hard against the street as his jacket was forcibly removed.
His phone was probably gone as well. Not that he would be able to call anyone, Hartley would have told the others by now what had happened. Would they be headed to Prague? Trying to find him, trying to rescue him. Only to find him dead in some lonesome alleyway.
It was almost poetic he supposed.
A thief, robbed in the last moments of his life.
Whatever the drugs were, they apparently hadn't been meant to knock him out. Just keep him docile, keep his powers down.
The blood loss on the other hand, was starting to be a problem. His limbs were so heavy. The pain was creeping up his spine.
He felt hands on him again.
Too late, they already took everything, he wanted to tell the new interloper. He barely got the thought out before a sharp pain laced up his side. He might have cried out.
He didn't know. Someone had picked him up.
He was being carried. There was a distinctly sharp shoulder digging into his stomach. Each step the man took was causing the bullet wound to jar.
Roy felt like throwing up.
If the person was rescuing him, he would feel truly bad about it. Throwing up on a person who saves your life, seemed like bad form.
But if it was one of the people who shot him, and were now taking him to where ever they were trying to kidnap him in the first place, well that was a different story all together.
He could hear sounds, words would fade in and out, though he couldn't ever seem to grasp them. At one point he was put down on a flat surface.
He was trying to figure out where he was based on the smells and sounds around him.
When suddenly someone drove something sharp into his wound.
He finally, blissfully, passed out.
"The security cameras are on a ten minute delay."
"What? Hold on I should be able to...Roy? Roy can you hear me?"
The screens went completely black. Which wasn't possible. Hartley had taken full control of the security system when he had hacked in. The alarms, the cameras, hell even the locks on the safe in the gift shop were supposed to be under his control. He furiously typed on the computer, trying to regain control, trying to see who had hacked in under his nose.
He couldn't find any signs that anyone else was attempting to take control of the system.
This shouldn't be happening.
"This shouldn't be happening."
Hartley wasn't in Central City, he couldn't just yell out to the others that something was wrong. He had taken a trip to Starling or Star or whatever nonsense they were calling it now. Palmer Industries was doing a presentation on some new sonic emitters they were testing and Hartley was going to go and scoff at the design. Their plans were at least five years behind what Hartley would be able to create.
But Palmer was going around saying they were the latest technology. A complete breakthrough in the field.
Which is why he had decided to come to the expo. Maybe he could cause some internal feedback that would shatter a few ear drums, make it look like a design flaw. Drop the stock of the company a few points, make them lose a few million dollars.
That would teach them to reject his job application from a few years back.
All thoughts of the expo were completely gone from his mind. He had come back to his hotel room after getting the first text from Roy. He kept trying, kept trying to locate…
No.
His own screen went black.
He was locked out of his own computer. Someone had hacked him directly. They would know exactly where he was.
Hartley didn't hesitate. He left the laptop and ran to the door.
Almost running right into the two men in suits in the hallway.
One had a needle in his hands.
Hartley shot a quick sonic blast at them and headed for the stairs. He raced down, he didn't know how many agents there were. This was a coordinated attack, if they were trying to get Roy in Prague…
They were trying to get all of them at once.
Cold, Axel and Mardon were still in Central. Lisa was in Rio? Or Rome. He couldn't remember. Shawna was in China. Hartley knew Mick had left Central two days ago, saying something about heading for California for a bit.
There were a bunch of wildfires happening, Cold figured no one would notice if Mick slipped in and set a few more.
Shit. They were too spread out. The cops must have waited until the Rogues were divided before making a move like this.
Hartley made it to the lobby. He pulled out his cell phone.
No cell service.
What the hell? He was in the middle of Star City, how was there no cell service?
Hartley ditched his phone. His best chance was to get back into the expo, there were thousands of people over there. He could get lost in the crowd. Hell even if he was spotted, it would be better than being caught by…
Hartley saw a reflection of the two men in the glass in front of him, he ducked just as a bullet shattered the glass.
Apparently whoever they were, they didn't care about being subtle.
Fine.
Two could play that game.
Hartley turned and used the full power of his gauntlets to knock the men backwards. He turned and ran across the road to the expo, quickly hiding himself behind a particularly large exhibit.
Security was swarming everywhere. There was no way he was going to be able to hide for very long. If those agents in the suits were working with security, they would be able to shut down the building. Lock all the doors. Then the Arrow and his little gang would end up sticking their nose where it didn't belong.
He needed to...seriously?
Hartley spotted Cisco talking to a blond woman near the entrance to the main auditorium. Hartley considered his options. He was alone, cut off from the other Rogues, and being hunted by some unknown force.
Desperate times and all that.
Hartley slowly made his way towards Cisco. Two men in suits came up behind Cisco and the blond woman, who Hartley was now able to determine was Felicity Smoak.
Hartley pushed down his irritation at the idea that Cisco knew so many high profile people in the field of science, and continued forward.
The men in suits must have been bodyguards, because the started to herd Cisco and Smoak towards the exit. Hartley kept his eyes open, looking for any sign of the men that had been pursuing him. He quickly followed Cisco out the side door. He was barely through when he saw the one of the body guards pull a needle out of his jacket.
Hartley hit both of the guards with sonic blasts.
"Hartley? What the hell man…"
"I don't have time to explain…"
Felicity Smoak was suddenly pointing a gun in his face.
"You're Hartley Rathaway."
"Yes…"
"You graduated top of your class."
"Is this a job interview…"
"Now you're a criminal."
Hartley smirked.
"Technically so are you, unless of course vigilantism has suddenly become legal in Starling. Though considering the state of your city I wouldn't be surprised."
Felicity lowered the gun.
Cisco took a slow step between them.
"Look, this is super fun and all but if you are going to rob us or whatever other ridiculous plan…"
"Please, like I would ever be so desperate as to rob you Cisco. I doubt there is a market for vintage sci-fi t-shirts on the black market."
"Hey…you don't know. People love Lost in Space."
Hartley rolled his eyes, seriously reconsidering this entire plan.
He bent down and picked up the syringe from the hand of the guard.
"Thirty minutes ago, Roy texted to say he was being followed. I wasn't able to find any information on the men following him. Then I lost contact with Roy and with Shawna. My computer was hacked, without me knowing it. I haven't been able to contact any of the other Rogues, but seeing as two men carrying a syringe like this tried to take me from my hotel room. I would say this is some kind of coordinated attack. Although why they would go after you…."
Cisco shared a quick look with Felicity.
Oh you have to be kidding me.
"You're a metahuman."
"Whaaaaaaaaat. I mean…I…I am yes."
Smoak took a small step in front of Cisco.
"You think they're targeting metahumans?"
"That always seems to be the case doesn't it. They must know that the Rogues are a package deal and tried to take all of us at once regardless of…"
The two men from the hotel came around the corner.
"Down!"
Hartley shot sonic blasts towards the men, one of whom was thrown into the wall. The other shot Hartley in the shoulder.
Hartley hit the ground, grasping at the wound.
Felicity aimed her gun and started firing back. Hartley felt Cisco grab his uninjured shoulder and pull him up.
They ran to a nearby car, Cisco driving them away as Felicity continued to cover their escape.
Hartley must have lost consciousness at some point because the next time he opened his eyes he was in a very nice apartment over looking the city.
The Flash was standing in the middle of the room, talking quietly to Cisco.
"Hey man!"
Hartley tried to ignore the false cheer in Cisco's voice. He turned towards the Flash.
"Well?"
The Flash opened his mouth for a moment, as if hesitating on what to tell Hartley. Hartley wondered if the old adage about your eyes getting stuck if you rolled them too much was true.
"I assume Cisco here told you what I told him and that you checked in with the Rogues in Central or you wouldn't have sped over here."
"Hartley…"
There was hesitation in the Flash's voice. Hartley covered up his fear at the sound with irritation.
"Are you going to answer or just waste all of our time…"
"The Rogues are gone."
Hartley took a moment to stare at the Flash. The Flash seemed to catch what he had said.
"I mean! They aren't dead. I don't think…"
"So they found another safe house and…"
"We tracked the cold gun to a safe house on Millner. It looked like there had been a fight. I…The cold gun was still there. But Snart wasn't."
Cold would never leave his gun behind. There was nothing that would make him part with his weapon.
"Mardon and Axel would have…."
Cisco took a step forward.
"You were right. It wasn't just the Rogues. Someone broke into the pipeline and took every metahuman."
"Clearly they didn't go after every meta." Hartley leveled a glare at the Flash.
"Hey what the hell are you…"
"Just seems convenient that no one came for you Flash."
"I had nothing to do with this. Someone tried to take Cisco!"
"How lucky he got away."
"Look Rathaway. I didn't have anything to do with this. I want to find the missing meta humans. And the Rogues. Because as much as you assholes annoy me, clearly something far worse is going on. So can you put your ego aside for one second and help us figure out what is going on and who is behind this?"
Hartley considered another retort. Considered antagonizing the Flash and Cisco further. Until he saw Snart's cold gun on the table behind the Flash.
Hartley didn't want to think about what these people would have had to do to Snart to make him leave that behind.
To be able to overpower Mardon.
To coordinate an attack against every known meta…
"Do you know of any other metas? Is there anyone else that has been taken?"
Flash shared a look with Cisco.
"Look you asked for my help and I'm helping. We need to see if there was a pattern. Cross reference who they took with any other missing persons reported over the next few days. If they are smart, they wouldn't just take metas. That would be too obvious, so they are probably going to grab a bunch of random schmucks as well. If we can track when and where people were taken..."
"Maybe we can triangulate some kind of central position. See if they are moved somewhere in some kind of general direction."
Cisco was already pulling up a laptop for Hartley to use.
Hartley tried to pull up the security footage from the museum where Roy had been taken.
It was gone.
"What the...they've managed to delete the security footage from Prague."
Cisco looked up from his own laptop.
"Not just that. The hotel security and the expo security systems have all been wiped clean. I can't even find a signature that shows the data ever existed at all. How the hell are they doing this?"
Hartley didn't have an answer for that.
Which really pissed him off.
"Give me your phone."
"What?"
Hartley snapped his fingers at Cisco.
"Your phone."
"Alright, geez. Glad to see your crime bros have been teaching you manners."
"My criminal friends might be exactly how we find out what is happening."
"What do you mean?"
"Axel Walker. The guy never does anything without taking a video or checking in or..."
Cisco had Axel's Twitter account already in his phone, which wasn't a surprise. Hartley was certain the Flash would try to use Axel's tendency to over share as a way to find out where the Rogues were going to hit next.
Plus Axel was, when not trying to blow up small children, genuinely funny.
Hartley looked at the message on Cisco's phone. He reread it a dozen times and still couldn't comprehend what he was seeing.
This account has been deleted.
Cisco looked over Hartley's shoulder.
"He deleted his account?"
"Axel would rip off his left arm before he would delete his Twitter account."
"Ok. This is starting to get seriously freaky."
Hartley spent a week recovering in what he later found out was a high rise belonging to Ray Palmer. Recovering from his injury and searching for any sign of the Rogues. The more he searched, the less he found. He couldn't understand how this could have happened. No one is this good. No one could hack this many systems and not leave a single trace.
He thought about the safe house in Kansas City. The one the Rogues were supposed to go to if shit ever hit the fan. He kept telling himself that he would leave tomorrow. Sneak out of the high rise, head there, meet up with whoever else managed to escape, and then take care of their enemies.
But…he couldn't be sure any of the others would be there. And Cisco, Caitlin, and the Flash were here. They had access to all of Palmer and Smoak technologies. Not to mention, Hartley was fairly confident, secret ARGUS satellites as well.
The safe house in Kansas City might not even have wifi.
…It…it made more sense for him to stay here. At least at the moment. He could find more information this way. He would be better prepared to help out the rest of the Rogues if he knew what they were facing.
It wasn't like the others would be any good at this kind of thing anyway. The only other person passably good with technology was Axel. And he had the attention span of a bunny rabbit hopped up on pixie sticks and speed.
Hartley needed to focus. He couldn't do that with Cold breathing down his neck or Mardon threatening to kill the whole city with a tornado if things weren't going his way. Whoever they were up against was the best hacker Hartley had ever seen. He couldn't even begin to understand how they had managed to attack so many systems simultaneously.
He needed more information. And, sure, Cisco was still completely annoying and immature, but he was, on occasion, able to make semi-coherent hypotheses about what was happening. And Caitlin had yet to screw up tending to his injured shoulder. She had even double-checked to make sure he hadn't aggravated any old injures. Which was her job of course.
And the Flash did provide a good enough distraction. Keeping Harltey's mind off of what could be happening to his missing comrades. He bolstered their security and helped them track some criminal activity back in Central and in Starling. It was just a way to keep his mind from getting stuck, from spinning his wheels when all his searches came up empty. That was all it was.
He was doing the smart thing here. He was using his resources to his advantage.
The others would understand that.
After he saved them.
They would understand.