[Luthor estate, Smallville]
Lex escorted Clark and the reborn Oliver Queen to the rear courtyard. In the distance, there was an archery range. Several arrows had already pierced their targets. Lex had been practising.
Oliver slapped Lex on the shoulder, clearly pleased that his old friend was still around. Lex laughed at another joke from Star City's engaging adventurer.
"Did you tell Clark about the time we crashed that sorority pledge party?" Lex snickered.
"Which one?" Oliver laughed. "The one where the chancellor basically had to chase us out with his cane? Or – wait – the one where we got buried in a pool of Jello with about a dozen pledge sisters?"
"Oh, man, that was quite a night," Lex remarked. "I didn't remember all the details, since I was so hammered." He noticed that Clark seemed uncomfortable with the image of his friend as an out-of-control drunken fratboy in a sorority house. He took on a more sombre mood. "I've grown up since then."
"Those were good times," Oliver noted. He stared into the clear, blue sky. He was supposed to inherit the family business, one that had prospered for 100 years. He had one year in solitude to contemplate the error of his care- free days.
Clark felt that he might have outlasted his welcome. Lex and Oliver had much to discuss. Lex had planned to join Oliver's quest to reclaim Queen Enterprises from Lionel's grasp. The NAFTA review board would hand down its final decision within weeks. They were running out of time.
"I should get back to the farm," Clark offered.
"Nonsense, Clark," Lex replied. "Stay awhile – at least until you see Ollie's archery skills. He and I joined the archery team in our freshman year. Though I must admit, I was a better fencer than him." He handed Oliver an exquisite wooden bow and a quiver of arrows. "You know, Clark, Ollie even got a nickname back then."
"Oh god," Oliver groaned, as he playfully shoved Lex away. "Don't start that again!"
Clark smiled. He hadn't seen Lex this happy in a long time. Who knows, he thought. Maybe Lex might become more open with his feelings. And that would be a good thing.
"Ollie bested all the top archers in the Conference," Lex beamed. "And he even got an offer to join the USA Olympic archery squad!"
"As an alternate," Oliver corrected him. "I turned it down. I lacked the discipline."
"Anyhow, he was so good," Lex continued, "that people on campus dubbed him the 'Emerald Archer'. I'm not sure if the co-eds who called him that were referring to his archery prowess ... or his skills in their dorm rooms!"
Oliver roared at the joke at his expense. "You're never going to let me live down that nickname, are you?" He notched the arrow into the bowstring, and pulled. His instincts took over. He adjusted the arc of the arrow according the distance of the target. He shifted to the right, compensating for the blowing breeze. He pulled the bowstring to its point of perfect tension.
Then he released the arrow. It sailed relentlessly towards the red target. Thud!
Lex ran towards the target, followed by Oliver and Clark. The arrow had just missed the centre, but he definitely pierced the outer rim of the red target. A half dozen of Lex's arrows had encircled the target, but none had hit as close as Oliver's. It was natural talent, and the Emerald Archer had barely lost his edge. Even after one year in tropical isolation.
"I had to make my own bow to hunt for food," Oliver admitted. "So I guess I got more practice in the South Pacific than I'd ever get on the Olympic team!"
"You're quite an excellent shot," Clark added, as he bid goodbye. "I've got to get the supplies to the farm, but I'm glad to finally meet you, Mr. Queen."
"It's Oliver," he replied. "You're Lex's best buddy here. That's good enough for me, Clark." As Oliver continued practising, Lex escorted Clark to the front entrance.
"I've heard that Bruce was a close friend of Oliver," Clark stated as mildly as possible. He didn't want to seem like he was prying for information, and he hoped that Lex wouldn't sense his curiosity.
Lex did sense his curiosity, though. "In those days," Lex remarked, "Bruce was the spoil-sport. People always said Queen was never as mature as Wayne, even though Ollie is only a year younger. You probably heard about a rift between Bruce and Oliver ... and I know Ollie would never intentionally hurt Bruce ..." He stopped himself. I've already said too much, he feared.
"I realize that your past, and those of your school chums, are none of my business," Clark explained. "But is there something I should know about their relationship, just so I don't slip up if it's ever brought up with Bruce?"
"First of all," Lex replied. "You're right – it is none of your business. But you're my friend. And Bruce Wayne's. It's not fair that we exclude you from discussions because of some outdated, blue blood code of silence. Look, I wasn't there when Bruce confronted Oliver that night in Metropolis. All I know is that the argument wasn't about business. Oliver said some hurtful things to Bruce ... about his family. It was in the heat of the moment, and Ollie never really meant them ...but Bruce swore never to speak to Oliver again."
"What exactly did he say, Lex?" Clark inquired, immediately realizing that he had crossed the line.
"That's all I'm prepared to say, Clark," Lex stated, abruptly ending the discussion. "I'm sure you understand. Bruce is protective of his family's legacy and reputation, even in death. Bruce Wayne had watched his parents murdered before his eyes. In his mind, Oliver disturbed their peace – if only by uttering a few poorly chosen words in anger. How can anyone argue against that?"
Clark sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry I pressed you about this, but it's been nagging at me ever since I met Oliver."
"Trust me, Clark," Lex replied, as Clark turned on the truck's ignition. "The fireworks have yet to come. I'll be hosting a welcome back party for Oliver at the museum, to introduce him to the Metropolis elite. Here is your invitation. Bruce is expected to address Metropolis U.'s business grads tomorrow, so the museum party could be an opportunity for him and Oliver to finally mend old wounds."
"After what you've told me," Clark hollered over the rumble of the engine, "is it a good idea to bring them together like this?"
"I should hope so," Lex remarked, "otherwise my snafu will make quite the headline in the Planet the next day."
[The Torch office, Smallville]
The LuthorCorp. technicians installed the new computer equipment for the Torch. The high school was pleased that Lionel Luthor had donated some technology to them.
Chloe wasn't as enthusiastic. Lionel was trying to leverage his influence to prod Chloe into investigating Clark. She felt trapped in an ethical crisis. By staying within arm's reach of Lionel, she could keep an eye on him. But, the pressure to betray her friend was almost unbearable. She didn't understand why Clark was of such interest to Luthor the Elder, but that interest was enough to make her nervous.
It didn't help that Lionel was there to personally supervise the computer installation. When the technicians left, Chloe saw an opportunity to leave.
"If you will excuse me, Mr. Luthor," Chloe stated, as she packed her bag. "I have to get these basketball photos developed for the next edition."
Lionel laughed. "Ah yes, the downtrodden Crows' basketball team. Hardly the earth-shattering news one would expect from the Planet's newest intern."
"I don't have the time or patience to trade verbal barbs with you, Lionel," Chloe snapped. "If you have something to tell me, just spit it out."
"Tsk tsk," Lionel shook his head. "And I was hoping to parry your insults to pass the time!"
He glanced at Chloe's desk. The Planet's late edition had a full-page photo of Oliver Queen, who had arrived in Metropolis late this afternoon. "I see that you are aware of the miraculous resurrection of Oliver Queen. It's a shame he wasn't there when I plucked his prized corporation from his wayward hands. Actually, I did him a favour. The young man, bless him, is nothing but a charlatan in trendy clothes. With a brain the size of a pea. He makes Bruce Wayne look like a savvy businessman! Queen would have run those companies into the ground if I hadn't graciously lifted the burden from his family."
"Get to the point, Lionel," Chloe remarked. "What do you want?"
Lionel unfolded the Planet, apparently reading the Queen story for the first time. "My allies in Star City inform me that Queen, his family and several investors are planning to reclaim Queen Enterprises. The company is all but mine, but my son seems to believe that his school-age loyalty to Queen obliges him to interfere with my acquisition. I won't bore your little head with the politics, but the long-and-short of it is that the NAFTA board is ruling on the takeover shortly. Lex has mobilized his allies in Washington and Ottawa, as have I. I can rely on my ties with the Administration, but Lex has applied considerable pressure on the Canadian prime minister. Unfortunately, it appears we are at an impasse. This is where you come in, Miss Sullivan."
"What can I do?" Chloe shrugged. "High-stakes diplomacy isn't exactly in the Torch's mission statement."
"Let me put it to you bluntly," Lionel smirked. "If LuthorCorp. is to become the dominant multinational corporation in North America, it must thin the ranks of the enemy. Napoleon Bonaparte found it easier to conquer Europe once he had laid waste to his European foes in the Battle of Austerlitz. With his victory, he nearly pushed Britain and her allies into the sea. I am at that point now. I've taken much of Queen Enterprises, but I need to vanquish Oliver Queen – permanently – if I am to break his stranglehold on the west coast. With that blond buffoon out of the way, that would leave only two players in the fight for hemispheric supremacy: LuthorCorp. ... and ..."
"... Wayne Enterprises," Chloe blurted. "You want to use Queen as a stepping stone, to make a final push against Bruce Wayne's empire!"
"Shhh," Lionel gleefully hushed. "You're getting ahead of yourself, Miss Sullivan. But you are correct! Queen and Wayne together could pose a problem. And if Lex chose to defy family loyalty and side with them ... well, I could have some difficulty."
Lionel paced around the room. He slowly spun a globe, and traced the outline of North America's west coast. He didn't care if he tore apart the Queen family fortune, or destroyed a century of Queen tradition. He would have their fortune. Then, he grinned, Wayne would be isolated. That was the final goal: to break Bruce Wayne.
"Oliver and Bruce have a reported rift in their relationship," Lionel observed. "I want to know if that spat still stands. If so, I want to widen it. To exploit it."
Chloe scoffed at the disgusting scheme. I'm not going to help Lionel destroy Oliver Queen, she thought. "I'm not your errand girl, Lionel! You want dirt on Oliver Queen. Something that would raise doubts about his ability to lead the family firm. You must be truly afraid that the NAFTA board is going to rule against you! Find yourself another lackey, because I'm not a muckraker!"
Before Chloe could storm out of the room, Lionel stepped in front of the door and grabbed her wrist. "I plan to destroy Oliver Queen," Lionel demanded. "And you are going to help me. You have to help me. Divide and conquer, Chloe. That is how I intend to thwart Bruce Wayne. He is my nemesis, and I will sweep him aside. I want to see Thomas Wayne's son grovel at my feet, on bended knee, as I scoop up his broken empire."
"No!" Chloe yanked her wrist free from Lionel's grasp. "Bruce is one of Clark's closest friends. I already regret helping you with your investigations. I am not going to risk hurting either of them and become an accessory to your scorched-earth business plans!"
"Give me my Austerlitz, Miss Sullivan," Lionel declared. "Give me that gateway to victory, and I promise you, you'll be the most influential columnist in North America before the age of 35! Think of it: your by-line in Metropolis, Gotham City, Star City and all centres in-between. A radio talk show, or your own magazine. Kings and presidents will beg to talk to you! Dare to dream, Sullivan. Defy me on this, and I will strip you of your reputation. A few choice words to my college dean friends, and you'll have to get your degree online. No paper in this hemisphere will hire you. Ask yourself: how can you serve the people as a journalist, if those people don't believe a word you say?"
Chloe slammed the office door as he left. She felt trapped. What was she going to do?
Her computer still had a web page on-screen. She knew she wasn't going to dig up dirt on Oliver Queen, but she was curious. Oliver, Bruce and Lex had been good friends as teenagers. They had attended similar boarding schools. Bruce had even taken a semester at Metropolis U., when Lex and Oliver were just freshmen.
But something happened – three months before Oliver's around-the-world yacht race. There was an argument. Bruce never said a word to Queen since then. She typed "wayne queen luthor" in Google search. I'm just keeping three steps ahead of Lionel, Chloe convinced herself. I need to know 'why'.
A picture appeared, dated from Lex's freshman year. It was a Planet article about some athletics reception. Lex was there, hoisting a fencing trophy in the air. Bruce was handing out the medals. Oliver Queen was standing beside his longbow, with yet another archery title. Beside him, a petite – and attractive – blond woman beamed at the camera.
The caption read: "Oliver Queen, cheered on by Gotham student Dinah Lance, receives Chancellor's Medal for athletic excellence"
Chloe browsed through the rest of the article, but found nothing more. A further search yielded similar stories, full of varsity hoopla – but little in facts. She scratched her head in confusion.
Who is Dinah Lance, she wondered.
Lex escorted Clark and the reborn Oliver Queen to the rear courtyard. In the distance, there was an archery range. Several arrows had already pierced their targets. Lex had been practising.
Oliver slapped Lex on the shoulder, clearly pleased that his old friend was still around. Lex laughed at another joke from Star City's engaging adventurer.
"Did you tell Clark about the time we crashed that sorority pledge party?" Lex snickered.
"Which one?" Oliver laughed. "The one where the chancellor basically had to chase us out with his cane? Or – wait – the one where we got buried in a pool of Jello with about a dozen pledge sisters?"
"Oh, man, that was quite a night," Lex remarked. "I didn't remember all the details, since I was so hammered." He noticed that Clark seemed uncomfortable with the image of his friend as an out-of-control drunken fratboy in a sorority house. He took on a more sombre mood. "I've grown up since then."
"Those were good times," Oliver noted. He stared into the clear, blue sky. He was supposed to inherit the family business, one that had prospered for 100 years. He had one year in solitude to contemplate the error of his care- free days.
Clark felt that he might have outlasted his welcome. Lex and Oliver had much to discuss. Lex had planned to join Oliver's quest to reclaim Queen Enterprises from Lionel's grasp. The NAFTA review board would hand down its final decision within weeks. They were running out of time.
"I should get back to the farm," Clark offered.
"Nonsense, Clark," Lex replied. "Stay awhile – at least until you see Ollie's archery skills. He and I joined the archery team in our freshman year. Though I must admit, I was a better fencer than him." He handed Oliver an exquisite wooden bow and a quiver of arrows. "You know, Clark, Ollie even got a nickname back then."
"Oh god," Oliver groaned, as he playfully shoved Lex away. "Don't start that again!"
Clark smiled. He hadn't seen Lex this happy in a long time. Who knows, he thought. Maybe Lex might become more open with his feelings. And that would be a good thing.
"Ollie bested all the top archers in the Conference," Lex beamed. "And he even got an offer to join the USA Olympic archery squad!"
"As an alternate," Oliver corrected him. "I turned it down. I lacked the discipline."
"Anyhow, he was so good," Lex continued, "that people on campus dubbed him the 'Emerald Archer'. I'm not sure if the co-eds who called him that were referring to his archery prowess ... or his skills in their dorm rooms!"
Oliver roared at the joke at his expense. "You're never going to let me live down that nickname, are you?" He notched the arrow into the bowstring, and pulled. His instincts took over. He adjusted the arc of the arrow according the distance of the target. He shifted to the right, compensating for the blowing breeze. He pulled the bowstring to its point of perfect tension.
Then he released the arrow. It sailed relentlessly towards the red target. Thud!
Lex ran towards the target, followed by Oliver and Clark. The arrow had just missed the centre, but he definitely pierced the outer rim of the red target. A half dozen of Lex's arrows had encircled the target, but none had hit as close as Oliver's. It was natural talent, and the Emerald Archer had barely lost his edge. Even after one year in tropical isolation.
"I had to make my own bow to hunt for food," Oliver admitted. "So I guess I got more practice in the South Pacific than I'd ever get on the Olympic team!"
"You're quite an excellent shot," Clark added, as he bid goodbye. "I've got to get the supplies to the farm, but I'm glad to finally meet you, Mr. Queen."
"It's Oliver," he replied. "You're Lex's best buddy here. That's good enough for me, Clark." As Oliver continued practising, Lex escorted Clark to the front entrance.
"I've heard that Bruce was a close friend of Oliver," Clark stated as mildly as possible. He didn't want to seem like he was prying for information, and he hoped that Lex wouldn't sense his curiosity.
Lex did sense his curiosity, though. "In those days," Lex remarked, "Bruce was the spoil-sport. People always said Queen was never as mature as Wayne, even though Ollie is only a year younger. You probably heard about a rift between Bruce and Oliver ... and I know Ollie would never intentionally hurt Bruce ..." He stopped himself. I've already said too much, he feared.
"I realize that your past, and those of your school chums, are none of my business," Clark explained. "But is there something I should know about their relationship, just so I don't slip up if it's ever brought up with Bruce?"
"First of all," Lex replied. "You're right – it is none of your business. But you're my friend. And Bruce Wayne's. It's not fair that we exclude you from discussions because of some outdated, blue blood code of silence. Look, I wasn't there when Bruce confronted Oliver that night in Metropolis. All I know is that the argument wasn't about business. Oliver said some hurtful things to Bruce ... about his family. It was in the heat of the moment, and Ollie never really meant them ...but Bruce swore never to speak to Oliver again."
"What exactly did he say, Lex?" Clark inquired, immediately realizing that he had crossed the line.
"That's all I'm prepared to say, Clark," Lex stated, abruptly ending the discussion. "I'm sure you understand. Bruce is protective of his family's legacy and reputation, even in death. Bruce Wayne had watched his parents murdered before his eyes. In his mind, Oliver disturbed their peace – if only by uttering a few poorly chosen words in anger. How can anyone argue against that?"
Clark sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry I pressed you about this, but it's been nagging at me ever since I met Oliver."
"Trust me, Clark," Lex replied, as Clark turned on the truck's ignition. "The fireworks have yet to come. I'll be hosting a welcome back party for Oliver at the museum, to introduce him to the Metropolis elite. Here is your invitation. Bruce is expected to address Metropolis U.'s business grads tomorrow, so the museum party could be an opportunity for him and Oliver to finally mend old wounds."
"After what you've told me," Clark hollered over the rumble of the engine, "is it a good idea to bring them together like this?"
"I should hope so," Lex remarked, "otherwise my snafu will make quite the headline in the Planet the next day."
[The Torch office, Smallville]
The LuthorCorp. technicians installed the new computer equipment for the Torch. The high school was pleased that Lionel Luthor had donated some technology to them.
Chloe wasn't as enthusiastic. Lionel was trying to leverage his influence to prod Chloe into investigating Clark. She felt trapped in an ethical crisis. By staying within arm's reach of Lionel, she could keep an eye on him. But, the pressure to betray her friend was almost unbearable. She didn't understand why Clark was of such interest to Luthor the Elder, but that interest was enough to make her nervous.
It didn't help that Lionel was there to personally supervise the computer installation. When the technicians left, Chloe saw an opportunity to leave.
"If you will excuse me, Mr. Luthor," Chloe stated, as she packed her bag. "I have to get these basketball photos developed for the next edition."
Lionel laughed. "Ah yes, the downtrodden Crows' basketball team. Hardly the earth-shattering news one would expect from the Planet's newest intern."
"I don't have the time or patience to trade verbal barbs with you, Lionel," Chloe snapped. "If you have something to tell me, just spit it out."
"Tsk tsk," Lionel shook his head. "And I was hoping to parry your insults to pass the time!"
He glanced at Chloe's desk. The Planet's late edition had a full-page photo of Oliver Queen, who had arrived in Metropolis late this afternoon. "I see that you are aware of the miraculous resurrection of Oliver Queen. It's a shame he wasn't there when I plucked his prized corporation from his wayward hands. Actually, I did him a favour. The young man, bless him, is nothing but a charlatan in trendy clothes. With a brain the size of a pea. He makes Bruce Wayne look like a savvy businessman! Queen would have run those companies into the ground if I hadn't graciously lifted the burden from his family."
"Get to the point, Lionel," Chloe remarked. "What do you want?"
Lionel unfolded the Planet, apparently reading the Queen story for the first time. "My allies in Star City inform me that Queen, his family and several investors are planning to reclaim Queen Enterprises. The company is all but mine, but my son seems to believe that his school-age loyalty to Queen obliges him to interfere with my acquisition. I won't bore your little head with the politics, but the long-and-short of it is that the NAFTA board is ruling on the takeover shortly. Lex has mobilized his allies in Washington and Ottawa, as have I. I can rely on my ties with the Administration, but Lex has applied considerable pressure on the Canadian prime minister. Unfortunately, it appears we are at an impasse. This is where you come in, Miss Sullivan."
"What can I do?" Chloe shrugged. "High-stakes diplomacy isn't exactly in the Torch's mission statement."
"Let me put it to you bluntly," Lionel smirked. "If LuthorCorp. is to become the dominant multinational corporation in North America, it must thin the ranks of the enemy. Napoleon Bonaparte found it easier to conquer Europe once he had laid waste to his European foes in the Battle of Austerlitz. With his victory, he nearly pushed Britain and her allies into the sea. I am at that point now. I've taken much of Queen Enterprises, but I need to vanquish Oliver Queen – permanently – if I am to break his stranglehold on the west coast. With that blond buffoon out of the way, that would leave only two players in the fight for hemispheric supremacy: LuthorCorp. ... and ..."
"... Wayne Enterprises," Chloe blurted. "You want to use Queen as a stepping stone, to make a final push against Bruce Wayne's empire!"
"Shhh," Lionel gleefully hushed. "You're getting ahead of yourself, Miss Sullivan. But you are correct! Queen and Wayne together could pose a problem. And if Lex chose to defy family loyalty and side with them ... well, I could have some difficulty."
Lionel paced around the room. He slowly spun a globe, and traced the outline of North America's west coast. He didn't care if he tore apart the Queen family fortune, or destroyed a century of Queen tradition. He would have their fortune. Then, he grinned, Wayne would be isolated. That was the final goal: to break Bruce Wayne.
"Oliver and Bruce have a reported rift in their relationship," Lionel observed. "I want to know if that spat still stands. If so, I want to widen it. To exploit it."
Chloe scoffed at the disgusting scheme. I'm not going to help Lionel destroy Oliver Queen, she thought. "I'm not your errand girl, Lionel! You want dirt on Oliver Queen. Something that would raise doubts about his ability to lead the family firm. You must be truly afraid that the NAFTA board is going to rule against you! Find yourself another lackey, because I'm not a muckraker!"
Before Chloe could storm out of the room, Lionel stepped in front of the door and grabbed her wrist. "I plan to destroy Oliver Queen," Lionel demanded. "And you are going to help me. You have to help me. Divide and conquer, Chloe. That is how I intend to thwart Bruce Wayne. He is my nemesis, and I will sweep him aside. I want to see Thomas Wayne's son grovel at my feet, on bended knee, as I scoop up his broken empire."
"No!" Chloe yanked her wrist free from Lionel's grasp. "Bruce is one of Clark's closest friends. I already regret helping you with your investigations. I am not going to risk hurting either of them and become an accessory to your scorched-earth business plans!"
"Give me my Austerlitz, Miss Sullivan," Lionel declared. "Give me that gateway to victory, and I promise you, you'll be the most influential columnist in North America before the age of 35! Think of it: your by-line in Metropolis, Gotham City, Star City and all centres in-between. A radio talk show, or your own magazine. Kings and presidents will beg to talk to you! Dare to dream, Sullivan. Defy me on this, and I will strip you of your reputation. A few choice words to my college dean friends, and you'll have to get your degree online. No paper in this hemisphere will hire you. Ask yourself: how can you serve the people as a journalist, if those people don't believe a word you say?"
Chloe slammed the office door as he left. She felt trapped. What was she going to do?
Her computer still had a web page on-screen. She knew she wasn't going to dig up dirt on Oliver Queen, but she was curious. Oliver, Bruce and Lex had been good friends as teenagers. They had attended similar boarding schools. Bruce had even taken a semester at Metropolis U., when Lex and Oliver were just freshmen.
But something happened – three months before Oliver's around-the-world yacht race. There was an argument. Bruce never said a word to Queen since then. She typed "wayne queen luthor" in Google search. I'm just keeping three steps ahead of Lionel, Chloe convinced herself. I need to know 'why'.
A picture appeared, dated from Lex's freshman year. It was a Planet article about some athletics reception. Lex was there, hoisting a fencing trophy in the air. Bruce was handing out the medals. Oliver Queen was standing beside his longbow, with yet another archery title. Beside him, a petite – and attractive – blond woman beamed at the camera.
The caption read: "Oliver Queen, cheered on by Gotham student Dinah Lance, receives Chancellor's Medal for athletic excellence"
Chloe browsed through the rest of the article, but found nothing more. A further search yielded similar stories, full of varsity hoopla – but little in facts. She scratched her head in confusion.
Who is Dinah Lance, she wondered.