Big Belly Burger

"So you want me to just leave my friends when they need my services the most and go win your rightful title back?" Sara asked, incredulous.

"It is not a request, Taer Al-Sahfer," Nyssa responded, "as I stated earlier, you owe me a debt for saving your life. This is how I choose for it to be repaid."

Throughout the entire discussion, Leonard had remained uncharacteristically silent. Sara turned to him now asking with her eyes.

"Well," Leonard drawled, "I've never liked leaving a debt unpaid for long."

"But, the timing," Sara protested. Traitor, she thought.

"Please, Sara," Nyssa pleaded, her voice losing some of the hauter and pride that had colored it since her interruption of date night, "I would not be asking this of you if I had another choice. I need your help."

Sara sighed, "Fine, I will help you," Nyssa nodded, relieved.

"I'll come too," Leonard stated.

"Len," Sara breathed, "It's not your fight."

"You'll be in it," Leonard insisted, "That makes it my fight."

Sara had never loved him more.

The Lawton Crib

Floyd sat at a computer, working photoshop while cursing his brother and his stupid honor. He was made for sniping and killing, not scaring and intimidating. Ghost Protocol was a very hard method of eliminating a target.

"No Floyd you got this," Deadshot mimicked in a sing-song, "I'll just go fight an army of assassins like it's no big deal while you stay and do grunt work"

The truth was, Ghost Protocol was very difficult, not to mention cruel. The essence of Ghost Protocol was to find the most easily influenced member of a group, which didn't always mean the weakest, and drive him to the brink of insanity through fear. It was very important, Karl had explained, to not actually drive the target insane.

"You want to demoralize the group," the Panther had said, "You need to make them desire to escape before it's too late. If you fully break the target, it's already too late. People do crazy stuff when you break the ones they love. Hope is the most powerful of all motivators. Ghost Protocol takes away almost all hope, and then offers a way out. Leave, and the agonies will end. Leave, and the target will be allowed to live in peace once again."

It was the perfect strategy, but Floyd was not as confident in his ability to carry it out as he would have liked. He had worked in tandem on a few Ghost Protocol jobs before, but never without his twin. He was going to have to do things a little differently, and he didn't like unknowns.

Nanda Parbat

"No battle with assassins would be complete without a little rain," Leonard pronounced, at the start of the rain. He was dressed in his stealing gear, his parka hood over his head, goggles on. Sara was also dressed to steal/fight, her standard white outfit complete with a white lacquer mask that covered the top half of her face.

Nyssa's army was camped at the foot of the ravine. They numbered about 500 in all, which paled in comparison to her father and sister's army of over 4,000. She had assured them that the most senior officers were with her, that her father's army would be far less organized and skilled.

"Still," Sara murmured, "How does disorganization defeat 8:1 numbers?"

"You doubt my chances, beloved," Nyssa asked, coming up behind them.

"I've always been one to sneer at the odds," Leonard commented, "But even I would hesitate when outnumbered by over 3,000. How can you be sure your men won't?"

"Because I have promised them a miracle," Nyssa informed them.

"And she has provided them with one," a voice interrupted. Sara swore, and Leonard whirled, cold gun coming out. The voice had been that of the Panther.

He was not dressed the same as when he had assaulted them. Gone was the kevlar armour and black mask. In its place was standard League of Assassins armour, but she would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Why are you here?" Leonard snarled.

"Why are dressed like a League member?" Sara asked.

"Because I am a league member," Karl Lawton replied, throwing back his hood, "I am Qat Asud."

His face was hideously scarred. Twin sets of claw marks adorned his cheeks, and a burn crept up the left side of his neck to his ear. The other side of his neck was also scarred by what appeared to be bite marks. Moving past his scars, Sara could tell that he had once been the spitting image of his twin brother.

"Your brother nearly killed me," Leonard observed, in the same tone of voice that he might of remarked on the weather.

"You were never in any serious danger, " Karl informed him, "trust me, Floyd always hits what he's aiming for."

"You told me Qat Asud was killed by League operatives," Sara accused Nyssa.

Karl smiled, "They tried," he said, "Made an attempt on my plane. I killed them, but in the process the plane crashed in the Amazon. I was the sole survivor of the crash, and I was set upon by a black panther immediately after the crash."

"Hence the costume," Leonard filled in.

"I wandered the Amazon for weeks," Karl continued, "Until I reached a local Brazilian town with an airport. I stole the airplane and flew back to Starling, where I created the Panther."

"So where do you come in?" Sara asked Nyssa.

"I was his pilot," Nyssa informed them, "I was sent to make sure he was dead. I found him in a village, and flew him back home. I then told my father that Qat Asud was dead."

"Why?" Leonard asked, "Why not follow through with the assassination."

"Because Qat Asud should not have been assassinated so cowardly for stating a simple truth," Nyssa replied.

"And what truth is that?" Sara asked.

"That I," Karl answered, "not Ra's al Ghul, am the greatest swordmaster the world has ever known."

"So why are you here now?" Leonard asked.

Karl looked down the ravine, towards the lights of Nanda Parbat in the distance, and answered with a single word.

"Vengeance."