(Archery range, Metropolis U. campus)
Clark pulled his truck into the Athletics Department parking lot. He checked his watch. He had a little more than an hour to talk to Oliver, before returning to the Four Seasons Metropolis. With any luck, Lex would have already convinced Bruce to stay.
There were at least two dozen archery targets aligned in a row. He could easily super-sprint around the field, but Oliver could be watching. Forget that idea, Clark frowned. There were plenty of trees obscuring a clear view of the range, so he had to search every one.
Distracted by his thoughts, Clark failed to notice the 'Keep Out! Archery Ranges in Use!' warning signs. He heard a slight buzz in the air. He used his enhanced vision to spot a thin object in the air. An arrow was arcing directly towards him!
Clark instinctively ducked and dove into the ground. A few feet away, he heard the arrow zip just above him. A 'thud' behind him indicated that it had hit the target several feet away.
"Clark!" someone yelled at him. Clark brushed off the grass from his jeans and looked up. It was Oliver Queen. He had discarded his business suit for a Metropolis U. Athletics track suit.
Clark glanced at the target. Queen's arrow had nailed the red bullseye. "Nice shot," Clark offered.
"Nothing on earth could have stopped that arrow," Oliver observed. "If you hadn't hit the ground, that arrow would've gone straight through your throat!"
"I'm just lucky, I guess," Clark suggested, sheepishly.
"Next time you think about taking a walk on campus," Oliver warned, "you should keep your wits about you. It's a live archery range. Arrows everywhere. You're a big guy, but getting an arrowhead embedded in you -- well, it ain't pretty." He slung his quiver on his shoulder and began walking towards the field entrance.
Oliver wasn't interested in small-talk, Clark observed. But he couldn't just let Oliver sell away his family birthright to Lionel, who was surely exploiting him to move against Wayne Enterprises.
Oliver anticipated why Clark was there. "Look, I know Lex probably put you up to this. And don't get me wrong, I'm impressed with your loyalty to him. Him and Bruce. But, don't you get it. We don't fit in their world." He spotted a bench, and nodded at Clark to take a seat.
"With all the wealth and privilege I had," Oliver continued, "I always felt 'not good enough' to be their friend. That's why I pushed myself to excel. Unfortunately, on those occasions when I did beat them at school or in sports -- it only made them more guarded around me." He wiped his brow with a towel, and took a sip from his water bottle. He was tired, but not because of his workout. He was tired of having to prove to Lex and Bruce that he was worthy to be their friend. He had spent his whole life living up to the expectations of others.
Now, he wanted to fulfil his own expectations.
"I don't presume to understand your relationship with Lex and Bruce," Clark replied. "And if you want to tell me it's none of my business, go right ahead. I was hoping you'd see beyond the horizon."
"Beyond the horizon," Oliver laughed sarcastically. "You know the only thing I could look forward to every day, stuck on that godforsaken island in the South Pacific? It was waiting for the day to come, as the sun came up over the horizon. I've spent an entire year looking at that horizon. I had lost everything. Lionel had seized the Queen empire, Dinah had walked out of my life, Bruce had killed our partnership. Was I looking for an escape at the time? You're damn right I was! To my dismay, I got far more than I had bargained for. I was about 100 nautical miles southwest of Tahiti when Tropical Storm Gayle caught up with me ... I tried so hard to keep the rigging tied down ... but the waves, they just wouldn't stop ... I could have gone overboard so many times ... and the rain, my god the rain ..."
Clark saw his emerald eyes. The same haunted look he had seen, staring out from the Daily Planet's front page on the day he was rescued.
"I didn't mean to bring up bad memories," Clark apologized. "I'm sorry."
"The thing is, Clark," Oliver added, "I don't think I'll ever rid myself of those nightmares. When I found myself on that island, I knew I had gotten my second chance. To fix things. The Oliver Queen that Lex and Bruce knew -- the fool that partied hard and wasted away his fortunes on girls and gadgets, he died. He died fighting that tropical storm! I blacked out, and woke up on a beach a new man. Reborn. I'm a different person now, but Lex and Bruce don't seem to get it."
He checked his watch. "I've got to hit the shower, and prepare for tomorrow's news conference."
"-- where you're going to announce your alliance with LuthorCorp." Clark grumbled. "Lionel Luthor's not to be trusted. He is using you."
"Using me?" Oliver challenged. "It seems to be both Lex and Bruce were using me. Lex to wage his private war with his father, and Bruce to target me for some sort of misdirected childhood guilt. When we had that blow-out, just before I left for the race, I knew I had said too much. No one could possibly know what Bruce has been through. Not me, not Lex ... not even you, Clark. Frankly, I don't know how much more we can do to help him. All that's out of my control."
"So that's it, then," Clark answered, irritated. "The final curtain for the great Wayne-Queen-Luthor coalition? The three of you had the power to thwart LuthorCorp.'s ruthless deeds in the business world, in the environment and in society. And, because of your bruised high society egos, the three of you are simply going to walk away from it -- while Lionel does what he pleases with your fortune. You could have made a difference. You're telling me you've changed. If all you're going to do is look out for yourself, and allow Lionel to tear apart your childhood friendships ... then maybe you haven't changed at all."
Oliver had quickened his pace: he wasn't interested in yet another lecture. Clark wasn't going to give up, and halted in front of him.
"Think about what you're doing, Oliver," Clark pleaded. "Lionel might let you do what you like in Asia, but back here, he'll use your inheritance to destroy Bruce -- one subsidiary at a time. We both know there's not a whole lot we can do about Lex's feud with his father; that's why Lionel doesn't care if Lex gets trampled in this fight. He wants this wedge between you guys, don't you see? He's the one using Bruce and Lex to exploit you. If he finds a way, he'll probably use Dinah Lance, too." Clark went for broke and invoked Ms. Lance's name, unsure if that past relationship might cause Oliver to stop and think.
"Dinah's left me for good," Oliver mumbled. "She wants nothing to do with me now. Lex told me so. It's over." He spun around to face Clark. "What would you have me do, Kent? Crawl up to Bruce and Lex with my tail between my legs, and beg them to let me into their freaking elitist clique? You and I are average joes caught up in their blueblood dramatics. Lionel's offered me an out. A new path, and I'm taking it! If you want to remain my friend, stay the hell out of this!"
"I'm trying to be your friend," Clark argued, "but you're so caught up in feeling wronged that you can't see how to set things right. Look over that horizon. I'm not asking you to become their lackey. After all you've been through, they can't expect you to sit on the sidelines. You're their equal in every respect, maybe even more so because of your ordeal. Show them what you've become."
"So what are you asking me to prove?" Oliver demanded.
"I'm asking you to prove them wrong, Oliver Queen," Clark replied, as he headed towards the parking lot.
Oliver took another sip of his water bottle. In frustration, he hurled it at a tree trunk. He was confused. He had allowed so many issues to become buried in discreet behaviour and obscure upper-class honour codes. That was how they were all raised. Now, those issues had returned to torment him.
He walked into the locker rooms. Ollie, what are you going to do tomorrow, he asked himself.
(Four Seasons Hotel, Metropolis)
Chloe nervously tapped her pen against the arm rest. She had been sitting in the hotel's ornate lobby for the past hour, with no sign of either Bruce Wayne or Alfred. She was still annoyed that she had actually 'left' a message with the front desk. Alfred warned her to be discreet. Now, all her efforts might be for nothing.
What if Lionel has spies at the Four Seasons, Chloe feared. Her stomach began to swirl in loops, like a Six Flags rollercoaster. If Lionel found out she was working against him -- the game was all over.
A hotel bellhop approached her. "Miss Sullivan?"
"Yes?" Chloe asked.
"A friend is waiting for you," the bellhop replied. "Pinkerton's Pub and Grill." The pub was near the hotel's west entrance. Chloe picked up her laptop and scurried to the grill. In a darkened corner booth, Alfred calmly sipped a cup of orange pekoe tea.
Alfred immediately showed her the crumpled message she had left at the front desk. "This is hardly discreet, Chloe."
"I know, I know," Chloe sighed in relief. "Won't happen again. Was that guy I met at the MSE ... Westerling?"
Alfred huffed, apparently shocked that Chloe would think the CIA would be so obvious. "Hardly, Miss Sullivan. I've never met Westerling. I only know his voice; he only knows mine. Whoever you met was likely one of his runners."
Chloe pulled out the confidential file. "It looks like a FBI threat assessment file that they passed on to Wayne Enterprises -- one week before the Wayne-Queen partnership was to go ahead."
Alfred reviewed the document, which had been heavily censored -- except for a few paragraphs. "Apparently, there was a confirmed threat against Wayne and Queen assets and personnel: Queen's diamond mines in Finland, Master Bruce's shipping ports in Egypt. There seems to have been a threat against the actual Star City news conference where the partnership was to have been announced."
"Do you think Langley might have told Mr. Fox to kill the deal?" Chloe suspected.
"That is possible," Alfred nodded. "The CIA must have had some field agents infiltrating the group who made the threat. They didn't want to tip their hand yet -- whether or not it strained Bruce's friendship with Oliver. Kriegsvolk, eh? An obscure Bonn-based anarchist group, but with powerful ties to the Russian underworld."
Chloe folded the file, and quickly put on her jacket . "So we have what we need right? We just give this to Bruce and Oliver, and everything will be cleared up!"
Alfred grabbed her arm. "'We' are doing nothing. 'You' have done more than enough. Now, it is too dangerous for your continued involvement. Kriegsvolk, they're supplied by ultra-nationalists in the Russian military. Thugs in Red Army uniforms. You do not cross these men -- that much I do know. I'll bring this to Bruce's attention ... and Oliver should definitely see this right away. Thank you, Chloe. Now make yourself scarce, before the Wayne entourage returns from city hall.
Chloe wanted to be there when Alfred gave the information to Bruce and Oliver, but she had learned that Alfred knew when discretion was needed. No one might ever know how she had helped, but she had helped. And that knowledge made her feel pretty good.
She was too busy thinking about the small victory she had achieved, when she spotted Lex Luthor. Wrapped in a black overcoat, he was busily scanning the lobby -- as if he was looking for someone. Chloe thought of ducking into the women's washroom, but it was too late.
Lex's eyes had noticed the familiar blond wisps of hair among the hotel patrons. He didn't seem angry, but you could never tell with Lex Luthor. He could be smiling at you, but his intent could be anything but friendly.
"Chloe Sullivan, editor of The Torch," Lex declared, as he strolled across the lobby to meet her. "The Crows' training camp is at Metropolis U., so I gather you're not here to follow-up on last night's victory."
"That's right," Chloe replied. Say as little as possible, she cautioned herself.
"They why is it, Chloe," Lex inquired mildly, "that the Torch's intrepid reporter is here -- in the Four Seasons Hotel, the most exclusive hotel in the city? The same hotel, I might add, which Bruce Wayne and his entire entourage have adopted as their home away from home during the NAFTA hearings. It must be quite a story, to have pulled you away from your editorial duties at Smallville High."
Alfred was nowhere to be found. Lex knew something was up -- and he wasn't going to leave without an answer that satisfied him.
Chloe grinned at him, seemingly helpless. What else could she do?
She was trapped.