Chapter Six: The Hunters Gather

"What's this all about, Lex? Cos I'm telling you, man, having your apes drag me away from my girl is not cool. You're out of line, Lex – way out of line!"

Bart Allen stood in the center of Lex's study, flanked by the two guards who had been dispatched to locate him. It hadn't taken too long to find the teenager. Lex had made it his business to keep tabs on his newest employee, and a quick search of his usual haunts had found him chatting up his latest conquest in one of the seedier neighbourhoods of downtown Metropolis. Dressed in the latest designer street wear, the kid appeared angry, even aggressive; he sneered at his new paymaster, squaring up to him as if seeking a confrontation he knew he could not win.

Lex said nothing. Instead he studied the boy for a moment, searching for any sign that the rebellious teenager was hiding something. Bart and Oliver had been close; so close, in fact, that their relationship had at times resembled that of father and son. Turning Bart had given Lex particular pleasure, and he had enjoyed using the boy to effect his final revenge on his rival. Now, however, things were different. Oliver was back, and hell-bent on revenge – what if he'd succeeded in turning Bart? An ally inside LuthorCorp would be very useful, and Oliver would need allies if he was to carry out his promise to destroy the Luthor name. His scientists had reassured him that the effects of Bart's treatment were irreversible, and that there was no chance of him returning to his old allegiances. Still, the stark reality of a dead man apparently cheating death made Lex wary of any so-called certainties, and he preferred to trust his own judgement rather than rely on the reassurances of others. If Bart could be trusted he could be a powerful ally in the battle to come; if he was a traitor, he wouldn't leave the room alive.

"What the hell is this, Lex?" continued Bart, his frustration at the other man's silence beginning to boil over. "You don't own me, dude – tell me what this is about or I am outta here!"

He took a couple of steps towards Lex, his anger getting the better of him. The guards reached for their guns, but Lex gestured for them to stand down; he wanted to test the boy's reaction to what he was about to tell him, and weapons being flashed around was probably not the best way to get to the truth.

"Oliver's alive."

Bart stopped dead in his tracks. In an instant his expression changed; the surly aggression disappeared, to be replaced by a look of complete shock.

"This is a joke, right?" he asked.

"No joke," replied Lex. He appeared inscrutable, his features betraying not a hint of emotion. It might have only been a few hours since Oliver's call had turned his world upside down, but he gave every appearance of being in complete control. His survival instinct was strong, and he knew that he could not afford to go to pieces. Oliver had declared war, and in this final struggle between the two men Lex had no intention of emerging as anything other than the victor.

"But how?" continued Bart. He appeared genuinely stunned; there was no hint that he had any knowledge of his former mentor's miraculous return from the dead.

"It appears the lethal injection was not as lethal as we thought," said Lex dryly, still studying the teenager's reactions closely. "Someone betrayed me – someone close to Oliver."

Silence followed, Lex's words pregnant with meaning.

"Wait, you think I did it?" said Bart incredulously, eventually understanding Lex's unspoken accusation. "Dude, you could not be more wrong! There's no way I would help that son-of-a-bitch – no way!"

Again Lex said nothing. He could see the beads of sweat beginning to run down Bart's face, the fear in his eyes. The boy understood that if he failed to convince the other man of his loyalty, his life was at stake; one nod from Lex, and the men behind him would put a bullet through his skull.

"Listen Lex, you've got to believe me," pleaded Bart, a hint of panic audible in his voice. "Didn't I help you get Chloe? And at Nemesis – don't you remember how I tracked down Oliver? If I wanted to save him, don't you think I would have helped him to escape then? I'm no traitor, Lex – you know that."

"You betrayed Oliver."

"But he fucked with my mind, dude! You saved me, Lex – made me see the truth. And after all you've done for me – this is crazy, just crazy!"

Bart's increasingly desperate protestations of loyalty seemed to leave the other man unmoved. Lex remained impassive, silently watching as the teenager begged to be believed. And Lex did believe him, whatever doubts he might have been harbouring having been swept away by the logic of the boy's argument. The doctor had tampered with the injection at Nemesis, not Bart, and the look of surprise on his face at the news of Oliver's return from the dead had a truth about it which could not be faked. Still, Lex had enjoyed allowing his little charade to continue for a few moments, to watch as the other man squirmed. Bart's ability made him useful, but he was arrogant, full of himself; it amused Lex to watch all that street punk bravado fall away, to see the fear in his eyes. The irony of Bart's words was also not lost on Lex. It was he who had fucked with the kid's mind, not Oliver, and it gave him a kick to have the success of his "re-education" program confirmed once more.

"Just give me a chance to prove myself, Lex. I'll do anything you want – anything."

Lex smiled. "Relax, Bart," he purred, placing a reassuring hand around the boy's shoulder. "I believe you – I do! And there is something you can do for me – something very important."

"What?" asked Bart, his relief obvious. "Tell me what you want done, Lex – I won't let you down."

"That's good, Bart – that's very good. Because your next job is going to be a challenge, but one I know you're going to enjoy."

Bart grinned. He knew what was coming, and Lex's words confirmed it.

"I want you to kill Oliver for me."

Lex descended carefully down the narrow flight of steps. A single bulb illuminated the stairwell, making it difficult to see where he was going, and he did not want to lose his footing and end up in a crumpled heap on the floor. The air was damp and fetid, the faded, peeling paint on the walls and threadbare carpet beneath his feet only adding to the gloomy, dismal atmosphere of the place. It was typical of the man whose services he now sought to enlist that he should chose to inhabit a basement in a building like this; Slade was nothing if he was not unorthodox.

"Are you sure this is the right place? I know Slade's a psycho, but you'd have to be out of your mind to live in a shit hole like this."

Lex frowned. Bringing Bart along had seemed like a good idea, but already he was beginning to regret it; Slade didn't suffer fools gladly, and the kid's mouth could ruin everything.

"That's enough," he replied sharply. "We need Slade, remember? Let me do the talking – if I want you to speak I'll tell you."

The two of them reached the foot of the stairs, where they found themselves confronted by a steel reinforced door. To Lex's surprise it was slightly ajar, as if their arrival was expected. He pushed it open, and stepped inside.

The room was small, and if anything was even more poorly lit than the stairwell. Along the walls Lex could make out row after row of weapons, each carefully stowed away. Not only was there every conceivable type of gun, but also an array of knives and swords, as well as a range of devices that Lex could not identify. He was impressed; there was enough equipment here to start a war, which is exactly what he was now engaged in.

"Didn't think it would take you long to find me, Luthor."

Lex turned. Slade stood motionless just a couple of feet to his right, a crossbow clasped in his hands.

"You're not an easy man to track down, Slade."

"In my line of business, it pays to keep a low profile."

"I've got a job for you – a job….."

"You want me to kill Oliver Queen."

Slade's interruption left Lex speechless. Only a select group of people knew about Oliver's return – how on earth had Slade found out?

"How did you know?" he asked eventually, trying to recover his composure.

"I know everything, Luthor – remember that." Slade's cool certainty was unnerving, even to Lex; did those words carry some hidden warning?

"Then you'll know he was behind the attack on LuthorCorp," said Lex, his voice hardening. "I want him dead, Slade. I don't care how you do it – just kill him, kill him and bring me his head."

A hint of smile flashed across Slade's lips. "Looks like leather boy's got you spooked, Luthor - none of this would have happened if you'd let me deal with him my way."

"Name your price, Slade," replied Lex, ignoring the other man's jibe. "Whatever you want, I'll pay."

"I don't want your money, Luthor."

Again Lex was left momentarily speechless, wrong-footed by Slade's response.

"I don't want your money, because I never mix business with pleasure," continued Slade, holding aloft the crossbow as if to admire its craftsmanship. "And believe me, Luthor, nothing will give me greater satisfaction than to hunt down the Green Arrow. When I tracked him before he was wounded, half the man he'd once been. But now - now everything's different. He's angry, driven – more powerful than he's ever been. That may scare you, Luthor, but not me. I want him to be at his best – makes the hunt more of a challenge." He paused, levelling the crossbow as if aiming at some unseen target. "I will track him, snare him, and kill him. And I'll make him suffer before he dies – suffer far more than you ever did with your amateur theatrics. Torture's not a game, Luthor. It's about destroying a man, peeling away the layers until he's got nowhere left to hide. And I will peel away that pretty boy's layers, I promise you – by the time I've finished with him, hell's going to seem like paradise. He's gonna scream like a bitch, beg me to kill him, but still I won't stop. I'll take him to the edge of death a thousand times, and pull him back every single time – he'll feel pain like nothing on earth. I'm gonna break him, crush him, and then, when I'm ready, I will cut his throat." Again he stopped, turning and fixing Lex with a stare of piercing, ice cold intensity. "And that's why I don't why your money, Luthor. The look in leather boy's eyes when I finally take his life - all the money in the world can't pay for a kick like that."

Nobody spoke, Lex and Bart both rendered momentarily speechless by Slade's chilling words. Lex had always considered him to be the consummate professional, the dispassionate assassin who carried out his work with cool, clinical efficiency. Now he saw something else, a side to the killer's character that was rarely glimpsed. The man was a psychopath, a sadist who got high on inflicting torment on others. What's more, it was clear that Oliver had got under his skin, perhaps more than anyone had ever done so before. Something must have happened during those hours that Oliver had spent chained up in Slade's dungeon, something which this monster could not forget. Strange as it seemed, Lex could see that Slade was glad Oliver was alive: now he would get a chance to taste the blood that previously he had been denied.

"I knew you were the right man for this job, Slade," said Lex finally, his attempt to sound business-like not quite masking the unease he felt in the other man's presence. Few people intimidated Lex Luthor, but Slade was the exception; he felt relieved that it was Oliver, and not himself, who was to be the focus of the assassin's wrath.

"When I'm done, I'll bring you his head," said Slade, picking up a large knife and sliding it into its sheath. "Just stay out of my way, Luthor – this time we do things my way."

"There's one more thing," said Lex, trying to keep his nerves under control. "I want you to take the kid here along with you."

Slade glanced at Bart, contempt in his eyes.

"I work alone, Luthor – you know that."

"Bart was on Oliver's team – he could prove very useful to you," continued Lex, deploying all his powers of persuasion. "And the boy has abilities, as you may recall."

"I remember."

"I can help you, Slade," added Bart, stepping forward. "I know how Oliver's mind works. I can help you catch him – just give me a chance."

Slade paused, clearly weighing up the possible advantages of having a former member of the JLA as an ally. Whatever "treatment" Lex's scientists had subjected the boy to, it seemed to have worked; Bart appeared to have no recollection of how Slade had captured and tortured him just five months earlier. His knowledge of how Queen operated might indeed be useful, and there was always the possibility that his speed might be helpful in the hunt to come…

"Okay, the kid can come," said Slade eventually. "But you'd better stay out of my way, boy – one mistake, and it won't just be Queen who comes home in a body bag."

Bart blanched, Slade's warning wiping the smile from his face.

"That's settled then," said Lex quickly. "All the resources of LuthorCorp are at your disposal, Slade – I've already put all of my facilities on maximum alert for another attack, and my men are out searching for Oliver's hideout. When can you start?"

"I've already started," replied the other man. "And don't bother searching for Queen's hideout – there's no need."

"Why?"

"Because I know exactly where leather boy's heading next – and I'm gonna be waiting for him."

Slade and Bart versus Ollie and Roy - get ready for some serious action! I know that some of you were expecting a change of pace in this chapter, but I felt it was important to take some time to bring in Bart and Slade, and to set up what's to come in the next few chapters. The next chapter is full of action, I promise - stand by for plenty of twists, and of course a good dose of angst!

Sorry this chapter has appeared later than I originally intended. However, the good news is that the next one is nearly done, so that should definitely appear next week. Thanks so much for all the support, especially from my amazing reviewers. Please do post some feedback if you can - it really does inspire me!