* Here we are. At the end of Slade's story, you may be a little disappointed that Slade's plan doesn't work out exactly as planned but that wasn't really the point. The point of this story was for YOU, THE READER to question the kind of person Slade is, especially after seeing his actions in Batman VS Superman. Whether or not he's a good guy or not isn't up to me. It's up to you. Please comment on whether you think he is! And yes, this is an action story so the ending is over-the-top and violent of course. Once again, that's all part of Slade's character and who he is.
"Over there, right?" Slade asked, grabbing the pilot's hair as he pointed to the address.
"Yes!" the pilot said in pain, beginning to lower the helicopter.
"8th and Smith... good boy." Slade said coldly, about to jump as he was thirty-feet from the ground.
He aimed the grapnel-gun hook for the roof of the building and fired it, seeing compressed air shoot out from a chamber and feeling the cable becoming tight as it attached itself to the building.
"Thanks for the ride, buddy." Slade said, hooking the separate end of the cable to the door of the helicopter and jumping out, tossing a live grenade into the hangar as he used the gun's handle to zip down the line as the helicopter exploded, shrapnel and fire shooting into the air.
Slade felt the other end of the cable becoming loose as he was ten feet from the ground and he bent his knees as he hit, rolling into a vent duct. He groaned in pain and stood up, watching the fiery wreckage fall to the streets. He took out the rifle and held it in front of him, seeing three men in military-style body armor run to the side of the building to see the destruction. He hid behind the giant air duct as the men panicked.
"Ah, shit. Was that Wilson's ride?" one of them asked.
"Yep. Oh my God. We're dead." the second one said, backing up as the copter hit the street below, crushing two parked cars.
Slade stood up and silently ran towards the men, screaming as he was three feet away, pushing two of them over the edge. The first men dropped his pistol as he felt the painfully horrible sound of his spine being crushed against the catwalk fifty-feet below. The second man fired a rain of bullets upwards, all missing Slade as the man hit the pavement and died instantly.
"You're damn right you're dead!" Slade said sharply, tackling the man and punching his nose, firing his rifle into his face and creating a bloody mess as bloody concrete bits flew at Slade's cowl.
He heard more men head up to the rooftop and pulled the pin on two grenades, tossing them in their direction. Before they could react, both went off simultaneously and killed two men instantly, while wounding two others, including Slade himself. A piece of small shrapnel was lodged in his right thigh and the metal had gone right through his body armor. As he struggled to remove it, he saw the man he recognized on the tape. Bill. And he was firing Slade's signature rifle.
"You son of a bitch." Slade murmured as the rest of the squad began firing at him.
Slade fired his rifle at the men and hit all of them in their armor that forced them backwards. He screamed in fury and kept his eyes trained on Bill who was trying to hit him. A soldier ran at Slade and he stabbed the pistol in the man eyes, firing twice and watching blood spill all over the roof.
"Bill! You killed my crew!" Slade yelled over the sound of the gunfire that echoed across the city.
Slade reloaded his pistols as three bullets hit him in the back armor and he groaned in pain, blind-firing over the bullet-riddled air duct. He turned his head upwards and felt a bullet hit him in the cowl, knocking him to the ground as heat burned his head. He grunted in pain and reached for the small knife in his leg holster. He heard the gunfire stop and hid the knife in his left hand as his right hand was nearly broke from all its trauma.
"Wilson! You just don't give up, do you?" Bill said, taking the rifle and jumping on the air duct, shooting Slade four times in the chest.
As Slade silently groaned in pain, he watched as he commanded his men to stop moving. Bill hopped off the air duct and bent down to Slade, taking off his cowl and laughing when he saw the bullet a third of the way inside the cowl.
"Wow. That was close, wasn't it?" Bill laughed, tossing the cowl across the roof.
Slade could only grunt.
"Hm. I thought so too." Bill replied to himself.
"Boss. Kill him already!" one of the soldiers said.
"Give me a minute!" Bill screamed at his partner.
Slade held the knife in his hand tight and watched as Bill got close to his bloody face.
"Did you really think you'd get away with this?" he whispered in his ear.
"No. But now I'd say I have a pretty fair chance." Slade responded weakly, stabbing the knife into Bill's jugular quickly before he could react.
Bill stood up, gargling on his own blood as it spilled to the roof top. Slade stood up quickly and watched as Bill tried to contain all the blood in his veins. Bill went into a fighting stance and his men aimed their weapons at Slade.
"No! This is... me... and between him!" Bill said, dazed from the massive blood loss.
Slade prepared his own fighting stance and Bill ran at him, tacking Slade to the ground and taking the knife from his neck and trying to stab it into Slade's temple. Slade fought against his surprising strength and groaned in pain when he let go of the knife from exhaustion, the blade piercing into his right shoulder. Bill smiled with blood-stained teeth and punched him twice in the stomach, making Slade head-butt him hard, knocking him off of him. He grabbed Bill's head and slammed it into the metal vent with all his might, a large wound above his eyes having blood pour from it.
"I'll kill you!" Bill said with a dazed tone as Slade slammed his head into the roof.
Bill jumped on Slade and punched his nose before taking the empty rifle of a dead soldier and smacking him in the back with it. Slade ignored the pain as best he could but could barely hold his pain inside. Bill picked Slade by his hair and kicking him twice in the chest, watching him fall to the ground.
"What's next, hot shot?" one of the men laughed as they gathered around the fight.
Slade narrowed his eyes at the ugly man who said that to him and fired his pistol straight into his private area, making him scream in pain. Bill dodged a bullet and punched Slade twice again before spitting in his face. Bill was laughing crazily and Slade took a deep breath, grabbing the handle of the knife and pulling it out slowly, blood oozing out with every painful pull. Bill looked at him with blood-shot eyes and gritted his teeth, attempting to lunge for Slade before he stood up and stabbed him ten times in the stomach, almost instantly killing him.
"Oh my God! He killed Billy!" one of the soldiers said quietly.
"Fire!" another soldier shouted, making his crew fire at Slade, bullets whizzing all around his body.
Immediately, Slade ducked underneath the vent and watched as orange bullets tried their best to hit him. He blind-fired his two pistols over the side and when the magazines went dry, he switched to the high-powered shotgun. He quickly rose up and killed two men with three shots before crouching back down behind the vent. The men got closer and Slade knew his number would be up if he didn't move. He felt the five remaining grenades in his vest and he pulled all of them out, placing the pins around each finger. He rose up quickly and flung his hands out, watching the grenades fly away and hit the ground. He grabbed his signature rifle from Bill's dead body and ran as fast as he could, leaping off the building.
Just as he was flying through the air, five explosions went off an a gigantic hole was made in the building, body parts and metal debris flying into the air as Slade dove with his legs outstretched into the Metro River located beside the building. He held his breath as he hit the water and looked back up when he resurfaced, seeing the fiery damage. He gave a small nod in the direction of the building and said a silent prayer for his fallen men.
one day later...
As Slade woke up in the alley, he looked on his stolen cell phone and saw a message from his new contact. It was from an old associate who was having trouble in South America. Apparently, a group of tall women in flashy suits and brandishing swords were prowling around and destroying equipment for cutting down trees in the Amazon. The man had offered a million dollars for the reward and of course, Slade took it. A plane would pick him up within the hour.
He sat up in his pathetic bed and stretched his sore body, ignoring the pain in his homemade stitches.
Maybe Luthor isn't all that important. He's got the alien to deal with. I've only got some women that think they're hot shit. Piece of cake...
THE END...