Oliver takes down Ricardo Diaz before receiving some troubling news about an old adversary.
[THREE DAYS LATER]
"That's odd," said Mia, as she watched Anthony Moreno's car pull into the underground parking of a ritzy hotel in the city center through her CCTV feed.
"What is it?" asked Oliver as he walked over and peered at the monitors.
"Moreno just pulled into the Conrad. What business does he have with a one-percenter luxury hotel?" she asked.
"I think we may have just hit the jackpot," replied Oliver, "Pull up the list of condo owners."
"You really think Diaz is dumb enough to rent a place under his own name?" she asked as she retrieved the list.
"No, but under a recognisable alias," replied Oliver. He eventually found the name that he was looking for. "There," he said, pointing to it, "The owner of the penthouse. Richard Dragon."
"How do you know that's Diaz?"
"Richard Dragon was Diaz's former mentor. Thermal scans, please."
Mia initiated a scan of the penthouse. The results came through after a few seconds, causing her eyes to widen.
"10 armed hostiles plus one unarmed. I assume that's Mr Richard Dragon," she said.
"Big mistake," replied Oliver.
"Him hunkering up in a penthouse under his mentor's name? Yeah, not very smart."
"Not that," replied Oliver, walking away and grabbing his bow, "Him thinking that 10 men would be enough to keep him safe from me."
Ricardo Diaz Jr. stood by the large glass panes in his penthouse, looking over the rest of Star City. Just a couple of months after he'd been broken out of Slabside, he'd already made enough profit from his drug-running to purchase the penthouse and began transforming it into a secure bunker in case things ever went sideways. If he ever ended up in his current situation: Azrael's backing gone, the police making strides in shutting down his operations and the Green Arrow starting to catch up to him. He doubted that they would ever find him though.
Although they knew he was now wealthy, nobody would expect him to be staying in a penthouse right in the city center. Rather, they were looking for him in The Glades, anticipating that he was hiding in a slum or in a run-down hotel that he ran. If they ever did find out that he was here, he would know in an instant due to the moles he had in the police department. It wasn't ever the police that he was worried about. The reason he'd fortified the place was because of the Green Arrow. That man… That man was something else.
Of the many teachings and sayings of Richard Dragon, there was one that rang truer for the Green Arrow than most men that had ever lived. "The man that can't be bought is far more dangerous than the one who can."
Diaz firmly believed that 99.99% of people in the world were the latter. If you could throw enough money at them, they'd always buckle, no matter what righteous façade they put up. But not the Green Arrow. He is one of the few that is truly who he says he is. He figured out by now that the reason he stopped seven years ago was because his team had somehow died, but even then, Diaz was sure that the only thing that he laid down was his bow. He must have continued to help clean up the city from the shadows, only coming out of retirement once a threat that couldn't be fought from the shadows appeared – Azrael.
The way that Diaz ran his organisation attempted to ensure that if he ever fell, completely dismantling it would still require a continued, organised, incorruptible effort. That problem of a snake that doesn't die even when its head is cut off is a problem that the Green Arrow now presented.
While every hero had a cult following, the Green Arrow was now starting a movement. He'd heard the rumours of vigilante archers in Austria and Japan, and only a fool would say that they weren't inspired by the Green Arrow. If the original man behind the hood ever died or retired again, another one would pop up. Another hypocrite, not smart enough to realise that the only person ever worth looking out for is yourself. They were all going to die horrible deaths as a result of their stupidity, but the only death that mattered to Diaz was that of the original, and he wanted to be the one to personally deliver him to his maker.
Someone knocked on the titanium-enforced door of the penthouse. Diaz signalled for his men to open the door, knowing exactly who it was. Anthony Moreno stepped through, carrying a duffel bag full of cash. Diaz turned around and stepped forward to greet the young man.
"Only one bag today, mano?" he asked.
"Sales are decreasing," replied Moreno, "Either our dealers are starting to take their own cuts or the police are doing a better job than we think."
"Don't worry about them. They ain't going to shut me down anytime soon," replied Diaz, "It's the other guy that I'm worried about. How'd you get away from him? The full story."
"He's getting slower, mano. He's not the same guy he was back in the day," replied Moreno arrogantly.
"I said the full story."
Moreno gulped, suddenly feeling a heavy weight on his chest. "There's not much to say. He kicked down the door, took out the guys with me and then tried fighting me. He slipped, so I landed a lucky punch and got out of there. I also checked my clothes to make sure he didn't plant a tracker on me. "
"Good. Now get the hell out of here."
Moreno turned away to leave. But as he did so, Diaz frowned.
"Wait a minute," said Diaz, furiously pacing over before grabbing Moreno's head and turning it. "What the hell happened here?" he asked, referring to the small cut on his neck.
"Nothing."
"So it just got there by itself?!"
"He tried shooting me, but he missed. It just skimmed past me, mano, that's all."
"Oh. He missed?"
Moreno nodded.
"He missed," repeated Diaz, lightly tapping the side of his head. Moreno's fear subsided when Diaz smiled and began chuckling. But in an instant, he was bludgeoned with a punch that knocked him to the floor.
"You fucking idiot!" screamed Diaz in Spanish, before continuing in English, "If there was one thing that I thought we knew about the Green Arrow, it's that he doesn't… fucking… miss!"
Diaz swung his boot into Moreno's face before drawing his pistol and putting a bullet through his skull. As the gun fired, the penthouse went completely dark, the lights being shut off.
"Secure the door!" screamed Diaz, as he walked over to the glass panes and peered at the opposing buildings. It was pointless to attempt to flee. The Green Arrow was nearby and Diaz wanted to see if he had a way to get into his fortress. He couldn't make out a figure on the opposing buildings, but he knew that the Green Arrow was there when an arrow nudged into a glass pane. The glass was reinforced, preventing the arrow from cleaning penetrating. An incendiary arrow, it was unsuccessful in breaking the blast-resistant glass when it combusted.
"He's going to need a whole lot more arrows to get through he-"
Diaz was cut short when five more arrows quickly hit the pane and exploded, shattering the glass and sending Diaz and his nearby men flying back.
With the glass now breached, Oliver fired a sonic arrow into the penthouse. Immediately, the deafening screech being emitted by the arrow sent Diaz's enforcers into a state of painful disorientation. Zip-lining into the penthouse with a grappling arrow, Oliver immediately took the chance to put arrows in five of the discombobulated enforcers.
Crawling over to the sonic arrow, Diaz quickly snapped the sonic wave generator off and smashed it with his fist. Now without the benefit of sonic disorientation, Oliver quickly leapt behind a nearby pillar to take cover from the ensuing gunfire. Attempting to take a peek or return fire could prove disastrous, so Oliver bided his time. He'd already made out the weapons that they were using – Heckler & Koch G36 rifles being fed with 30-round box magazines. With a fire rate of 750 rounds per minute, Oliver patiently counted down the seconds until their magazines emptied
3… 2… 1…
The gunfire seized. Oliver leapt away from the pillar, nocking an explosive arrow and firing at the center of the five men.
Just as the incendiary arrow took out the last of the gunmen, Ricardo Diaz leapt up off the floor towards Oliver, not giving him enough time to nock another arrow. Having waited months for an opportunity to get his hands on the Green Arrow, Diaz channelled his anger and frustration into every strike, throwing with vicious intentions. Having rushed forward and now throwing a multitude of varying strikes, some managed to find their way through Oliver's defences, who was shifting backwards and defending the onslaught.
Compared to Azrael, the only skilled fighter that Oliver had fought recently, Diaz had a much different style. While smaller and less powerful, his movements were far more chaotic and he threw far more kicks from unorthodox angles. This presented quite a different puzzle for Oliver to solve, but not one that was unsolvable.
Given how effective of a technique that the calf kick was, Oliver was baffled at how sparingly he used it in his younger days. Depending on the muscularity of an opponent's leg, one powerful well-placed kick could easily be enough to damage the peroneal nerve, effectively numbing the foot and making one lose control of it.
With the amount of kicks that Diaz was throwing, a well-timed kick could disrupt his balance and give Oliver a chance to retake control of the fight. Eventually seeing his opening, Oliver threw a heavy calf kick and as he anticipated, swept Diaz off of his feet, allowing Oliver to pivot away and create space.
With distance now between them, Oliver fired a flashbang arrow at Ricardo Diaz, who caught the arrow and quickly flung it away before it activated.
"Really thought I was going to fall for the same trick again?" he asked.
"Wouldn't put it past you," replied Oliver, mocking him. The taunt angered Diaz, who engaged Oliver once again.
Ricardo Diaz was fighting like a raging bull, and unfortunately for him, he was in front of a deft matador. Having seen Diaz's entry punch coming from a mile away, Oliver easily slipped to the outside of it before countering with a perfect right hook. Dazed from the blow, Diaz stumbled back and it was now Oliver's turn to be the aggressor.
Another difference between Diaz and Azrael was their defensive capabilities. Azrael was far better at evading and blocking strikes before returning with powerful counters. While Richard Dragon was a skilled martial artist in his own right, his teachings were still levels below that of what Oliver had studied, and those levels were on full display as Oliver proceeded to put Dragon's student through a meat grinder.
Unable to contend with Oliver's skill, precision and ruthlessness, Diaz struggled to process the strikes that were coming his way. He blocked a few but the majority were starting to find their way through his guard. Oliver's varied his attack too, puzzling Diaz who now had no idea when to drop his hands to defend a body strike or to keep them raised to protect his face. Eventually, he succumbed to the avalanche of pain, dropping to the floor after a knee to the body from Oliver.
"This ain't over," wheezed Diaz, "Go ahead. Lock me up in Slabside again. I'll get out eventually."
"You're not going to Slabside, Diaz. You're going to Purgatory."
"Purgatory? No, I'll see you in Hell," he replied, pulling out a detonator from his pocket. Immediately realised that the place was laced with explosives, Oliver sprinted to the shattered panes, readying himself to jump out of the building. He could already feel the inferno of the explosions brush his back just as he was about to make the leap. Just as he felt as if the flames were about to engulf him, the heat disappeared as his body suddenly zipped through the air.
Coming to a stop on an opposing rooftop, Oliver took a moment to regain his bearings. He felt arms around his waist and looked down to see Supergirl gripping him. He looked back at the destroyed penthouse for a second before turning back to Kara.
"Close call," she said.
"I was handling it," replied Oliver nonchalantly.
"Not without sustaining some second-degree burns in the process," she replied.
"First-degree," replied Oliver, correcting her with a grin.
Kara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure… Dumbass," she said before bringing her lips up to his for a peck.
As Kara and Oliver walked through Verdant and down to the lair, she continued to light-heartedly scold him.
"I thought we agreed to no 'superhero-ing' on date night," she said.
"I know, but I finally managed to locate Ricardo Diaz. I thought I could take him down and be back in time."
"I suspected that you were busy when you were late, so I called Mia. Thankfully I did, otherwise I wouldn't have been there to save you."
"I didn't need saving."
Kara frowned. "Really?" she replied, pulling out an arrow from his quiver and showing him the burnt bristles of the flechette.
"That's not the grappling arrow that I was reaching for though," replied Oliver, smirking to purposely annoy her.
"Whatever. Now that I think about it, why is it always me saving you?" she inquired, playfully poking at his ego, "The Dominators, Harris, Azrael, now Diaz…"
"Hey, I saved you in the Earth-X Crisis," replied Oliver, "And didn't we also agree to not keep score of things?"
"Sorry. It's just, you know, Kryptonian memory. I remember things easily."
"Yeah, yeah, keep reminding me that I don't have superpowers," he replied, pretending to be disheartened.
"But you do," she replied, "Your superpower is being stubborn."
Oliver sighed, not having any comeback due to the simple fact that she hit the nail on the head. As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the lair, Mia sprung up off her chair to greet Kara.
"Mia, it's nice to see you again," said Kara as they hugged.
Despite this being her third meeting with Kara, Mia was still "geeking" out over the fact that she was actually in the presence of Supergirl. "Yeah, yeah, good to see you too," she replied, swallowing her words.
"Oliver's not giving you too much trouble, is he?"
"No, no, we make a pretty good team. Right?" she asked, turning to Oliver.
"Yeah," replied Oliver, chuckling. "Did you ever get that autograph?" he asked.
"What autograph?" asked Kara. Knowing what Oliver was doing, Mia's head shook as her jaw dropped.
"Mia's a massive fan of yours. I actually believe the more appropriate term is a… stan? She's always wanted an autograph."
"Since when do you know what a 'stan' is?" asked Kara.
"I googled it after Mia told me that she's a 'Supergirl stan'," replied Oliver.
"Don't listen to him, he's being a goof," said Mia quickly, trying to save face.
"I really don't mind if you want an autograph," replied Kara.
"I don't. I don't stan you either. I mean I do, but like, not in a creepy way or anything like that."
Kara couldn't help but giggle as Mia's nervous rambling reminded her of her younger self. "I appreciate it. I'm going to be on my way now. Like I said, it was nice to see you again."
"The pleasure is all mine," replied Mia, shooting a middle finger at Oliver as soon as Kara turned around.
Kara walked away with Oliver to the other side of the lair. "So, you ruined date night. What happens now?"
"I'll make it up to you," he replied.
Her eyebrow raised as her curiosity peaked, wondering what Oliver was about to propose. "How?"
"Well… you can fly us to my apartment right now," he replied, edging his face closer to hers, "Straight into the bedroom. And by the end of the night, I'm sure I'll be forgiven."
"That sounds promising," replied Kara, giggling as her and Oliver's lips met. But their kiss was cut short…
"Woah!"
They suddenly broke after hearing the exclamation from a deep voice, turning to see Diggle behind them.
He apologised immediately. "Sorry for interrupting, but Oliver, there's something that you need to see. You too, Mia," he said, calling her over.
"What happened?" asked Oliver, sensing the severity of the matter.
"Joe Wilson was just broken out of an ARGUS black site prison."
"By who?" asked Oliver. Diggle handed Oliver his phone, showing him the footage of the man tearing through the facility with help of two others and releasing Joe from his cell.
Oliver immediately shook his head. "It can't be."
"Can't be who?" asked Mia. Her question went ignored.
"It's not him, Diggle."
"The suit, the height, the build, the motivation for breaking Joe out. It all checks out."
"He's not that person anymore, John. It's not him," repeated Oliver, raising his voice in denial.
"Not who?!" exclaimed Mia, finally catching Oliver and Diggle's full attention. Oliver handed her the phone.
Mia watched the footage, taking note of everything about the man. As Diggle had said, his height, his build and most importantly, his suit. The katana strapped to his back, the heavy armour and the mask…. Half-black, half-orange.
Oliver finally proceeded to answer her question.
"The original Deathstroke… Slade Wilson."
A/N: Oh yeah, Slade Wilson is alive.
For "When Destiny Calls", I did originally envision Slade as also having died on Lian Yu, and such would have been made clear in the story. But then something in my mind sparked and told me that I should never outright confirm his fate so that if I ever wrote a sequel to WDC, I could incorporate him into the story.
He is the character that I avoided putting in the tags early on. He will be appearing to help Oliver deal with one of the new threats that the city will face. He will be back and as badass as ever, so stay tuned! ;)