Joe Wilson meets the Deathstroke who broke him out of prison.
"Let me guess, you can't get a hold of him," said Diggle as Oliver ended the unanswered call to Slade.
"These details are probably outdated," he replied. Oliver hadn't seen or spoken to Slade since November 2017 when he had helped him find Joe in Kasnia. "ARGUS is supposed to be keeping tabs on him."
"We were until we lost track of him two years ago. His last known location was Buredunia."
"That doesn't mean that this is him, Diggle."
"Who else could it be, Oliver? There are no other candidates unless this is someone new."
Oliver closed his eyes, attempting to think deeply of anybody that could be a potential suspect. After a few seconds, the name finally sprung to mind.
[TWO HOURS EARLIER]
"Who the hell are you two?"
Having yet to speak with the Deathstroke that had broken him out, Joe Wilson decided to inquire further on the two metahumans who had accompanied him.
The British man answered first, politely extending a hand. "Charlie Allen."
The Hispanic woman followed suit, albeit, slightly less courteous. "Valentina Quiñones."
Their physical appearances and mannerisms seemed to accurately represent their powers. Allen, a teleporter, was lean and dressed casually yet sharply, while Quiñones was hulking and dressed in a green tactical suit. At nearly six feet tall and as muscular as either of the two men, one would not be remiss to think that she had super-strength at first glance, which she did.
Eventually, the chopper landed in a cornfield. Joe stepped out, still with no idea which country he was currently in, and eagerly waited for the Deathstroke to step out of the pilot's seat and join him.
"Bloody took you long enough," said Joe as he approached, "I was stuck in that shithole for two years."
"Don't be a cunt, mate," he replied, "It was a black site, hard to track down."
"Still, with everything that I taught you, you should've found me sooner."
"Maybe you're not as good of a teacher as you think," he replied, finally taking off his mask. Elated to see him, Joe chuckled and embraced his brother, Grant Wilson.
"Fucking hell mate, it's good to see you," said Joe, "What have you been up to these past two years?"
"A lot," replied Grant before elaborating, "Trying to find you, building an army…"
"For what?" asked Joe, chuckling at the absurdity of Grant's statement.
"I'll tell you later. Let's first get back to the safe house."
"Where'd you find these two?" asked Joe, gesturing to the two metahumans accompanying them.
"They're part of a metahuman mercenary group called The Hangmen. The other two members are waiting for us back at the safe house."
The drive to a safe house took them an hour, with Grant revealing to Joe that they were in the Albanian countryside. Joe was surprised at how well guarded the safe house, with several armed men being inconspicuously stationed outside.
As soon as Joe entered the safe house, his eye caught a silver knife gliding through the air before lodging into a wall. He looked to where it had been thrown from, spotting an American woman and Japanese man on the other side of the room with more knives in hand.
"That took longer than I expected," quipped the woman.
"What's wrong, darling? The FOMO getting to you," replied Allen.
"Call me darling again and I'll rip your brain apart, Allen."
"So you are the brother," said the man. "If 'daddy issues' had a face, it would be his," he turned to the lady and joked in Japanese, unaware that Joe fully understood him.
"Watch how you use that tongue before I cut it out," snarled Joe.
"Easy now," said Grant, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder to calm him, "Leah Wasserman, Hiroyuki Serizawa. They hung back because I didn't want to risk exposing their identities before their next job."
After cooling the tensions, Grant let Joe freshen up with a shower as well as giving him a fresh change of clothes, some good food and a beer before they spoke more.
"Who are those blokes outside? Some of our old Jackal pals?" asked Joe.
"Nah. Cobalt," replied Grant.
Joe's eyes widened. "You've been busier than I thought. When did you start working with them?"
"I haven't. Their leader, Azrael, is dead. The Green Arrow killed him."
Joe scoffed. "Yeah, right."
"I'm dead serious, brother. He's back. With Azrael gone, I've gotten a few hundred of his men to join me for my next mission. A mission that I'd like you to be a part of."
"What mission?"
Grant smirked before replying. "To take over Star City."
Joe scoffed again, attempting to keep the urge to laugh contained in his chest. "I was the one in prison yet you're the one who has lost their mind."
"Star City is in shambles right now, brother. It's primed for a takeover."
"Why on Earth would you want to take over Star City?"
"Why not? We'd have a whole city to ourselves. We could do whatever we please."
"I ask again, why do you want to take over Star City?" repeated Joe.
"Think about it, brother. This is our chance to rewrite history. We could do what our father failed to do."
"I couldn't care less about him," replied Joe, the cold intensity in his voice freezing Grant for a second.
"And what about this?" asked Grant, as he held us his mask, "Does this mean nothing to you? This mask, our mask used to be a symbol of fear. Now, nobody takes the Deathstroke name serious anymore. If we do this, we'll be feared and respected once again. The Star City police are weakened and the city is miles away from any military bases. I have over five-hundred men and enough firepower to bring the city under my control."
"Aren't you forgetting something?" asked Joe, "We'd still need to get through the Green Arrow and his superpowered friends."
"Why do you think they're here?" replied Grant, pointing to the four metahumans. "Listen, brother. The choice is yours. You could watch Star City fall from the sidelines or you could be there when it happens and then rule it with me. Who knows? Maybe you'll even get your hands on Oliver Queen and finally make him pay for what he did to our father."
Joe Wilson thought deeply about Grant's plans. Whether or not the effort of taking over Star City would be worth the rewards, what the chances were of them succeeding and if he actually had the desire and patience to carry out such a mission. He eventually came to a decision.
"Alright… I'm in. But your plan is horseshit. Storming the city guns blazing won't work. As soon as we hit the city, the Green Arrow's 'super-friends' are going to arrive and we'll be thwarted in seconds, no matter what metahumans we have at our disposal. If we want to stand any chance of taking the city, we're going to have to lure Supergirl and The Flash into a trap and eliminate them first."
"How do you suggest we do that?"
"The old faithful Deathstroke tactics – Deception and diversion."
"Right off the bat, there is no record of a Grant Wilson," said Mia. Kara had left, telling Oliver she'd catch up with him later while he, Diggle and Mia researched further. "But with some more digging, I found a Grant Jericho."
"You sure that's him?" asked Oliver, as he looked at the image of the young man on the monitors.
"His mother is listed as Adeline Kane, Slade's ex-wife, so it probably is," replied Mia, before reading the rest of his profile, "Although, it doesn't look like he took after his brother. Studied a Public Health degree at the University of Canberra before becoming a humanitarian, joining aid missions to various regions in need."
"What is his last known location?" asked Diggle.
"It looks like he's back in Canberra. He last went on an aid mission two years ago. A clean water project, digging wells in Nigeria for children." Mia spun around to face Oliver and Diggle. "Look, unless we're missing something big here, Grant Wilson is not our guy."
"Yeah, it's not implausible to suggest that all of that is just a cover-up, but it's highly unlikely," said Diggle, agreeing with her.
"Mia, I'm going to need you to keep digging," said Oliver, "Start with Slade. See if you can locate him, then move on to Grant. We need to be sure that it's not him."
"I don't know if it gets any more 'sure' than what I've just read," replied Mia.
"I hate to say it, but you're in denial, Oliver," said Diggle, "And when you're in denial, things tend to start going south."
"John, there is absolutely no hard evidence to suggest that it was Slade. We can't just assume that it was him."
"Any more so than you're assuming it's Grant?"
"I'm just covering all bases. I'm sorry that I find it a little hard to believe that after seven years, Slade has suddenly had a change of heart."
"Is it hard to believe or do you just not want to believe it?" asked Diggle, "People change, Oliver. You did. You were out of the game for seven years and you came back."
Still refusing to concede, Oliver shook his head while Diggle continued. "You're a father, Oliver, and I hate to bring William into this, but there isn't a damn thing in the world that you wouldn't do for him. Who's to say that Slade wouldn't do the same for his son?"
"I think if my son was a terrorist, I'd let him rot in prison," remarked Oliver, "Keep me updated on any changes. I'm calling it a night."
When Oliver returned to his apartment, he was surprised to see Kara sitting on a couch, waiting for him.
"I thought you said you were going home," he said.
"I did, but then I came back when I realised that I should probably be here for you," she replied, standing up and walking over to him.
"Thanks, but I kind of want to be alone right now."
"I know, but that's what you want, not what you need," she replied, wrapping her arm around his and dragging him to the couch to sit with her, "I take it the research didn't go too well."
"Yeah. Grant Wilson is looking like a dead-end," replied Oliver. "What do you think about this?"
"Well, a long time ago, Lena was framed by her mother and nobody else believed me when I told them that she was innocent."
"Do you believe me?" asked Oliver.
Kara's lips tightened. "A big reason why I believed that Lena was innocent was because it was unthinkable for her to have done what she was framed for. Is it unthinkable to believe that Slade would do this?"
Oliver sighed. "Whenever I think of Slade, it's like I'm thinking of two different people. I see him as the man who helped me become the hero that I am today, but then there's the other side. The Mirakuru-mad man that murdered my mother, and even though he's cured, it's not hard to imagine that that part of him still exists."
"Which man do you think he is right now?"
"I don't know. Somewhere in the middle, perhaps. So, no, it's not inconceivable that he broke his son out of prison, but I simply refuse to believe that he did."
"Why?" pressed Kara, "Oliver, he murdered your mother. I can't fathom how you still have faith in him."
"Because I wouldn't be here today without him. He has saved my life countless times. I am in debt to him as much as he is in debt to me, and I need to give him benefit of the doubt right now. I owe him that much."
"After everything that he's done, you still somehow find a way to see the good in him," replied Kara in admiration.
"That's a trait that I got from you."
Kara smiled before giving him a quick peck on the lips.