* For those of you wondering why this story is rated M, it's simply because this is a story about Deathstroke, a trained killer who doesn't mess around and will stop anyone in his path. The violence and language present is just a factor in his character. I'm sorry if some of you are offended but I'm trying to make these characters as relatable and real as I can. And if you find yourself rooting for Slade... don't worry, I am too. : )

"You've created a nice little assassination plot here, Slade. I'm impressed." Luthor said as his men continued to aim their guns at him.

"What are you planning to do with me?" Slade asked as a man walked over and took his rifle.

"Oh no, no, no. I've learned my lesson with giving the "Here's My Plan" speech. Remember what happened last time? Those two freaks in spandex made me make you a terrorist. I am truly sorry for that." Luthor replied.

"I'm sure you are." Slade growled as he stood up; Luthor's men searching him.

"I'm liking your new look. How's your eye?" Luthor asked, taking Slade's pistol from his holster.

"Fuck you, Luthor." Slade replied dryly.

Luthor laughed and looked over at his men at the other building. They had nearly finished off Slade's crew and he looked over, shaking his head in disappointment. He looked up at Luthor and scowled, forgetting that nobody could see it. Luthor searched him head-to-toe, seeing the grenade belt and all the extra weapons he probably had on him.

"You're a walking armory, Slade. Bulking up seems to work for you. Oh, this is for you." Luthor said, his soldier handing him a tablet.

He held it if front of Slade and Slade nearly winced at the images on the screen. It showed "Rookie", the youngest member of the crew, a twenty-year old man who wanted to help kill Luthor after he canceled a medical supply company to make room for his new stock trade in Metropolis. Rookie's mother died since she couldn't get her liver medication. Rookie's left eye was gauged out and the soldier committing the murder laughed as blood shot out of the socket. He pointed to the man holding the tablet and struggled to talk over his laughter. Slade watched in silent anger as they took all his weapons.

"Hey, look! Now they match!"

Slade struggled not to take the tablet and break it against Luthor's head, knowing that he had to see the rest. Rookie screamed as the soldier stabbed his chest and slowly cut through his skin, blood pouring onto the concrete roof as the tablet camera drifted to the other surviving member, an older assassin named Pete Grace. He was in his late-fifties and had worked over sixty-five assassinations during his career. He had taught Slade everything he knew. Slade's fists cracked when he saw the two soldiers take off his mask and start punching him in the face. He saw the Bolt rifle on the ground beside and saw the second soldier grab it, trying to see the ammo inside the chamber.

"Holy shit! This is the Russian Bolt! This guy knew what he was packing!" the soldier told the camera over the screams of Rookie as his mouth filled with blood.

The solider went up to Pete's temple and fired the bullet, the small amount of space letting it shoot straight into his brain, almost instantly killing him. The man turned on the battery and Pete's body started to convulse and move around erratically. As the two men laughed, the cameraman went back over to Rookie and it showed his mouth full of blood and his chest pumping out blood. The man with the knife threw it downward straight into his skull, the camera cutting off.

"Hm. These mercenaries are so violent. But you don't care do you? Terrorists are usually self-centered." Luthor said, handing the tablet back to the man behind him.

Slade stood his ground and looked back, seeing the city below. Luthor saw him as his eyes flicked to the edge of the roof and Lex raised an eyebrow.

"What are you gonna' do? Jump?" Lex laughed, ordering three men to grab him.

"No..." Slade said with an evil tone.

"Kill."

Before Luthor could move, Slade flipped a small bowie knife from a secret holster in his left arm and swung down, stabbing a soldier right in the throat. He pulled the knife out and sliced across Lex's chest with all his might, the first layer of fabric tearing and the metal plate screeching against the blade. Slade dodged a rain of silenced gunfire and flipped the knife to his right hand and breaking the visor on the helmet piece, shards of glass falling to the ground. He grabbed the injured man and tossed him over the edge, gaining his footing before he fell off as well. Slade punched Luthor in the nose as hard as he could and stabbed two more men multiple times and taking one of their suppressed SMGs. The surviving men ran after Slade as he ran across the rooftop and he fired half the magazine in their direction as he jumped across a cooling vent. Dozens of bullets hit one of the soldiers in the head and he dropped dead instantly. Two more men fired pistols at him, two bullets hitting Slade's back vest, making him grunt in pain. He saw the edge of the roof quickly approaching and he narrowed his eyes, sprinting with the force and stamina of an Olympic long-distance runner. He took one large breath and leaped as hard as he could, soaring through the air, seeing an apartment complex fifty feet down. He kept his feet straight as the men above fired at him and he grabbed a catwalk at 30 MPH, spraining his thumb as he bounced off the other wall ten feet away. He slid twenty-feet before leaping off the wall, grabbing the catwalk. He saw the men above leave the roof and he hopped to the ground.

"Dammit! Those fucking sons-of-bitches!" Slade yelled quietly as he punched the brick wall beside him three times, trying to get rid of his anger.

He checked the magazine and groaned, seeing it was half empty. He ran along the narrow alley and stayed in the shadows, watching an old couple walk by him as he slowed his breathing. He waited for a moment before hearing the doors slamming open and heard the sound of Lex's men as they grabbed the couple and threw them against the wall. Slade heard the woman scream and smirked at his chance to escape. He was about to dart down the sidewalk before hearing the woman scream again and saw one of the soldiers smack her with the gun, the top of her head bleeding.

"Have you seen a big man dressed in black and yellow? Don't lie, bitch!" the leader asked, about to hit her again.

"Please stop! We haven't seen anybody!" the husband said, stepping in front of his wife with no fear.

"Wrong answer." the leader said plainly, raising the pistol and about to strike.

Before he could Slade fired one shot and blood sprayed all over his men. The leader fell to the ground in a disgusting splash of blood and brains as the couple held each other and ran towards Slade's direction. The woman screamed when she saw him and they ran past him. Slade ignored them and aimed the gun at the two remaining men. They fired their weapons and blew out the car window behind Slade and he jumped over the roof, hiding behind the hood. As bullets pierced the car, Slade winced at the sparks in front of his face. He rolled onto the ground and aimed for their feet. He fired three bullets in quick succession, missing one but hitting two in one of the man's feet. A mist of blood shot up and he screamed in pain, falling to the ground and firing the rest of his clip at the car, all missing him. His partner ran to the car and fired an entire clip of SMG ammo into the interior, hitting the gas tank and puncturing it, gas beginning to spill on the road. Slade smelled the gas and cursed to himself, hopping up quickly as the soldier reloaded, firing six bullets into his chest, making him land on the ground.

"Where is he?" the man yelled to his partner as blood pumped from the stumps where two toes once were.

"I... I don't know!" the other man responded, painfully getting up as the hot bullets burnt his skin through the Kevlar.

The injured soldier hopped up with his partner and signaled for him to cover the opposite end of the car. He sprinted to the front and his eyes widened as he saw no sight of their enemy.

"What the f-?" the man began.

From the opposite end of the street, Slade smiled and fired his last round at the puddle of gas collecting at the bottom of the convertible.

"Boom."

The car exploded in a haze of fire and hot metal, instantly killing both of the men, their charred bodies flying into the brick wall with a bloody splat and an ashy mess. Slade ran from the scene as he saw the familiar sound of the Man of Steel flying to the scene. From three blocks in the darkness, he saw Superman hover around the fiery car and use his cold breath to extinguish the fire. He saw him check the dead men and Slade laughed quietly before taking off into the night.

"Good luck, Boy Scout."