[I'm finally back after being gone for so long! Of all stories, I really, really wanted to update this one. You won't understand the plot to this chapter much without having already ready Bring Me Closer by XxPhonixFlightxX, but, Chartreuse is the man who hurt Jason really bad before, and his men were the ones Joey lashed out on. This idea was originally XxPhoenixFlightxX's!]
Chartreuse was infuriated - he was seething. How dare this small, insignificant mutant child just jump into his picture perfect plan and ruin everything. If it weren't for that heathen that Red Hood had picked up, Chartreuse would be running the underground by now. Instead, he was down at least twenty men.
He took another long, frustrated smoke of his cigar.
"...Horus," the old, pompous man rasped through cigar smoke.
"...get me the phone."
"What...in the hell do you mean, you won't take the shot?" Chartreuse argued over the phone, taking another sip of his bourbon, trying to calm himself down.
"You heard what I said, you incorrigibly degenerate excuse for a man. I. Will. Not. Take. This. Shot." The hitman said eerily from the over the other line, frustrated with this almost full hour long argument going on.
"Dammit, man! I'm offering you 2.5 million dollars! You will never get this money anywhere else - I know you won't! If you don't take this job offer you'll do nothing to further yourself!" Chartreuse yelled, slamming his fists, his face going red as if he were a child not getting his way.
"...What is it exactly, that you want, Chartreuse?" The man sighed.
Chartreuse smiled.
"I want that brat dead! I want his head on my doorstep, and I want that smart tongue of his on a silver platter! I want you to make sure he dies nice and slow in front of that dumbass good for nothing Red Hood!" Chartreuse near screamed.
A moment of silence.
"Well then, I suppose you'd best find someone capable of taking the shot soon, shouldn't you? Because I wouldn't touch that boy if my life depended on it, Chartreuse."
"Wha- God...Goddammit! Don't you dare hang up on me! You wouldn't dare-"
Followed by the inevitable tone of an empty phone line.
"God fucking dammit Deathstroke!" The man screamed at the desolate phone as he slammed it down on his desk.
"Finally…" Chartreuse said to the phone with a sickening smile, "someone who I know will get the job done - no matter the target."
"Obviously. So, who's the lucky rabbit?" Grant replied over the phone with ever so present suave confidence.
"So, here's the deal. You get 2500 in payment, all you have to do is take out a simple target. He's not much more of a nuisance, really. He may be able to slip around some, but even he can't be impervious to the right bullet." Chartreuse explained.
Grant whistled at the sum.
"That...that is indeed a lot of money sir. And you didn't go to Deathstroke first because-?" Grant questioned, a bit suspicious. It was his father with the sharpshooter aim, not him. He was just the backup.
"Your worthless father isn't good for anything, boy. Slade was afraid to take the shot, but of course, I know you won't be." Chartreuse said slyly.
"...Who is this you want dead?" Grant asked, nervous suddenly.
"Goes by the name Jericho. He's that little runt blonde kid who's been hanging around Red Hood and doing all his dirty work. He's really nothing more than a glorified sex kitten if you ask me. Of course - I'm sure it's an easy shot for you." Chartreuse said, taking another sip of his alcohol.
"...Listen here, Chartreuse." Grant said in a dangerously venomous voice.
"...My father isn't afraid of Jericho - far from it. But I can promise you, if you're the reason any harm comes to that kid, you'll sure as damn hell be afraid of me. Now...do yourself a good favor for once, and never call this line again." Grant threatened before hastily hanging up on the line.
Chartreuse groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. Did this kid really have a reach this far? Were this many people afraid to shoot at him?
Chartreuse sighed, letting out a weak and tired "hello?" at the last person he was making a call to.
"How do you have this line, and what the hell do you want?" Snapped the girl on the other side.
Usually, Chartreuse would never stoop to this level. Not to her level. She was violent, bloodlusting, over the top, and less of a hitman and more of a paid serial killer. She obviously had serious mental issues of some kind, and she took her emotions out on the people who were on her hitlist.
But, when all is said and done, Ravager will never deny a hit. No matter who or what it is, she's all for the thrill.
"Ravager, it's Chartreuse. The man you met at your father's last meeting? I have a hit for you." He said in all seriousness. Chartreuse knew how to play people. Deathstroke was all business, Grant all ego, but Ravager - there was no playing Ravager, you couldn't even try. If he made one slip up and angered her, she would have his head on a plate.
"...I'm listening." She answered, with a slightly amused tone.
"It's this kid. Everyone's afraid of him and I can't imagine why. I've got a grudge, he took out 23 of my men and ruined my chance at the underground. I need him gone, fast." Chartreuse said.
"He's the one that's been around Red Hood. Blonde hair, green eyes, pale face, y'know, that one. I've got a hefty price on his head. I just need him gone. I know you, I know you can get this done, it seems you're the only one who can get it done." Chartreuse said.
Silence. Silence, then heavy breathing, then suddenly the enraged scream of Ravager as she threw her phone against the wall hard enough to break in into pieces.
Finally, Chartreuse was starting to get a little worried.
After three hours and more than a few bourbons later, Chartreuse heard a cacophony of pained grunts and fist collisions and started shaking in his leather black chair like a child. This was it, Ravager had set her sights on him and he was going to die a horrible, bloody death all because of some stupid, insignificant annoyance Red Hood had picked up from the streets.
Suddenly, the grunts and the fighting back from his bodyguards outside stopped all at once, and a polite and petite knock sounded off the door.
A shaking Chartreuse, hiding behind his desk and his equally frightened and shaken personal bodyguard in the room with him shared a confused look.
Another few knocks, this time louder and more urgent, impatient even.
"...C-come in…?" Chartreuse sounded, hurrying to climb back in his chair and try to appear as if he hadn't been hiding like a child from the threat.
The doorknob turned ever so slowly, and Chartreuse was equally concerned, confused, and relieved to find that it was not Ravager at the door, brandishing her huge sword and out for blood.
She was a petite woman, but she looked...dangerous. Chartreuse couldn't put his finger on it. She was of the average height, the average weight. She wore simple clothing - a dark pink dress and heels, a pretty pearl necklace. Fluffy brown hair cascaded down her figure and she had the fine lines on her face of a mother.
"...Mr. Tristan Collins? Hello, I'm here on behalf of my family, my name is Adeline Kane." She said in a cheery voice like a telemarketer, smiling cheek to cheek. Chartreuse took an uneasy glance behind her at his nine knocked out bodyguards outside of the room, and faked a smile, shaking her hand.
"Hello, Ms. Kane. What...What can I do you for?" Chartreuse stuttered, wringing his hands nervously.
Adeline smiled sweetly again, humming a bit before reaching over and stealing Chartreuse's bourbon glass, swishing around the alcohol and studying it a bit.
Like a viper striking, Adeline moved faster than Chartreuse could keep up with.
Her smile dropped to a venomous frown in the same instant that she threw the glass against her side of the desk, creating a dangerously sharp edge of glass in her hand. Like a bolt, she suddenly spun around and sliced the sharp edge against Chartreuse's only remaining bodyguard's throat. She reached into the falling man's pocket, yanking out his gun and aiming at Chartreuse.
She didn't waste time, she didn't cackle, didn't monologue, didn't gloat. Adeline Kane was no villain - she was a mourning mother of three.
Instantly a gunshot fired and Chartreuse fell the ground, blood splattering the wall behind him.
Adeline sighed, shaking her head in disappointment before grabbing the other glass of bourbon the Chartreuse had laying on his desk. She downed it, before spitting it back out and making a gagging sound.
"Ugh - vile men and their alcohol. Why is it always bourbon?" She said to no one, spinning the gun in her hand.
[Read and Review please! I have a few more chapter I want to upload soon, so look out for those. If you don't know - Adeline is Joey's mother.]