Long Live the King – Deathstroke's Forced Descent into Villainy

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Chapter 14: When Abandoning Ship, Always Bring an Extra Life Jacket with You

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And abandon ship he did, right into Star city to get far, far, away from that nutty bat – daddy and his broken promise to mount the kid's captor's head on his wall.

Slade took the shortest route to his personalized jet, getting ready to swim back into the role of mercenary.

Oh, yes.

He was this closed to going to jail, not collecting that two – hundred dollars, and?? (Quoting on the board game, Monopoly) He was not going to win the lotto again through sheer luck.

Robin's team had kicked him out; haunt and all, decimated to bits. Blown up like one of the many ships he'd swamped on the force years ago as a covert – ops badass.

If only he could seek a bigger alternative to get back…It was perfect Jump City was his city, and he'd have it. He just had to go back and…make some cash first on a few dead meat targets. Slade picked up his crackling unit and dialed for the only person who could save his skin in moments.

"Will. I need you to arrange a few jobs for me. We have, more work to do."

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Slade had his disguised bots take them to a base outside of Arizona. He needed to get mobile and fast. Meaning, he was on the run. For a while.

Slade's first idea was to go into hiding for a bit, build back up his new base from scratch. He wasn't bankrupt yet, but that Jump city "trap" had been his latest achievement. When the wheels had stopped turning all because of some "overzealous teen crime fighter and his kiddie side kick rejects from the institute…" Why? They were good enough to…

It was him." Slade sighed and looked down at his palms, both still shaken from the ordeal. The DESTRUCTION of HIS BASE that HE HAD CAUSED.

Slade was the reason this had fallen, his time in Jump city would have to start anew, somehow.

In a paper article or was it online...

Will had sent Slade a link or printed page of a country known as Markovia that needed to some "protection" from inside their ranks. It paid a lot more than a few days in cancun to Wilson, so he went after the publishing info to hunt down who'd tipped them off to begin with.

He'd head out first thing, line his pockets and then?

He'd see about getting paid like a professional killer should, of course.

Donning the old mask was now beneath him, so he prepared a few upgrades to make it harder to trace his face back to the now long forgotten Slade's. This trip could take months, weeks, so he had to make it count. Unlike the workings of his enhanced brain at ninety – percent being correct biologically, he was one – hundred and ten percent reassured that he could not screw this mission up.

Well, he'd just had a minor setback with the boy and his companions. It could happen to Ra's even, or Joker. He couldn't beat himself up for one hit to the face.

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"There was a secret war in Markovia going on…" Slade read out his passage while the plane took off.

"To the eyes of Interpol, no crime, no conviction. Seemingly only it was political unrest. A war from within the kingdom; a brother against brother stand - still... where only one may hold the crown…. who the hell wrote up this report? "Slade's eyes flickered as he tossed the report paperwork to collapse into a heap by his seat. "Wintergreen? Are we close yet?" He touched his earpiece by his mask and breathed outwards. ~ Where the devil are you, Slade? I can't pinpoint your blasted jet's location! ~

"I'm keeping a low profile. Seems I'm being followed…"

~ Slade? What is –

A sharp sound shot out, as the door to the jet was cut away by a laser against its outer surface. Slade got into stance and held his hand to one of the surfaces as the craft jutted, by this covert team of assassins, probably.

They came wielding guns and even swords too, idiots. Slade imagined the logo on their suits was a clue to him. As to who wanted him out of these skies and back in the States. Or dead.

He wasn't having any of that. Not after the month he'd had ruined for him by some unruly brats in tights.

"Hands up; where we can see them!"

Slade raised a brow below the mask. No. These weren't killers. Subduing. They wanted him, but why here?

"What is your mission here; these skies are under heavy guard by Mother, Markovia's Knights. You are breaking the law of our country, and will be taken in for questioning, immediately." The gun or laser was pointed at the man, but in all honesty, he needed to get past the sensors. "I'm all for adding protection to your cause." Slade put his hands up and edged his eye to peer or have them look at his files. "My mission here is of some value to your crowned prince." Slade said to the soldiers. "You might find that to be worth your while…"

He was in, and so it was to begin, again.

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The ship flew over tree bound forests and mountains in the heart of eastern Europe. He was kept away from the windows and doors; the control was out of Slade's hands until they'd landed. He could escape capture, if need be, but these were Markovia agents, he imagined fresh from the academy. Speakig of that…

What was poor Addie going to do about losing their son this time?

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Slade was led off of the craft and marched to the grand hall, to be at the beck and notice of a rather worried looking brunette. He was adorned in military attire as beside his seat sat two more. A boy with red hair and freckles, he seemed more inflexible and colder towards the staff. The other was a young blonde girl in a rather long dress. Too big and her eyes stared out the window, uninterested in the war going on inside the palace walls.

"Welcome, you must have traveled far…. Ah, you…would not happen to be the hired "gun" we asked for over the line?" The brunette' accent was a tad strong, but Slade nodded, understanding plenty. The grinning idiot was terrified, he couldn't be or maybe…

"Yes." Slade replied. "I'm here to assist with your war efforts and to covet secrets off of the enemy, as per your request."

"Ah! Wonderful! Sister, brother? This man will be the one guarding your lives as well. Mr. Wilson? Where were you stationed in your country, might I ask you?"

Slade nodded against his better desire to tell his story, start to finish. "I was placed onto a special team, Team Seven, they were called. We took out the worst known leaders and their dogs with only our wits and ammo to see us to our, resolution. I will promise to keep to my word if you certainly wish for me to stay and guard your family. I do find it strange that you called me, of all of the other heroes in my country."

"That is because, brother knows what you are, what you do." The younger teenaged red head snootily tossed his head to the side. "The mercenary that cannot be killed by stray bullets. A man of vast knowledge? You are Deathstroke."

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Slade imagined the kids were involved in the politics of their country a little too much. The blonde seemed naive. She was, or she wasn't willing to listen like her siblings. "We won't judge today, there is a lot to discuss. I can see that my timing is a bit, unsettling to you, your highness?"

"No need for the formalities, comrade." The brunette seemed to relax a bit as he took Slade to his side to talk of a way to infiltrate the enemy's greatest excuse for all of this fighting.

Genetically altered super – weapons.

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Short in order to keep it, sweet! This is just going on about his involvement rom the 2003 comics Teen Titans where Slade's face is barely visible in background. Ah, and the kids' personalities are a bit standoffish but it is to the young justice series that I filled in some blanks. Instead, their older brother is the one working with a bad guy while…you'll find out soon enough! Deathstroke Inc is on hiatus until Slade' gets his work done stopping a civil war? More like treason between family members. Tara Markov is the blonde, so also Brion is the red head. Rest to come. Stay tuned and read on, stay curious.