Secret Weapon
Chapter 23
Author's Note
Hope you like some politics, some explosives, probably will edit this later.
The Politics and the Explosives
ARGUS plane, on the way to Star City with a pitstop in Washington.
Emily was nodding off, her head on Malcolm's arm when Sara stepped into the compartment and clapped her hands loudly to wake the team up.
"Whoa, subtle much, miss Hitler Jugend?" Tony asked grumpily, stretching out and glaring at her.
"Well, I'd never accuse her of being subtle or not akin to Hitler Jugend," Emily said, stretching as well, as Malcolm massaged his temples next to her, clearly fighting off a pounding headache.
John Carson and Sabrina were in the same row and woke up, uttering some expletives.
Abby was on her laptop, so she just waved, while Oliver lifted from his seat saying "What the f#$%& Sara?!"
Sara went down to business. "Sorry to wake you from your sweet slumbers," she said sarcastically, "but POTUS just called and we are on a detour to Washington."
"You failed to mention how well-deserved these 'sweet slumbers' were and how rare they are; what does POTUS want?" Emily asked, matching her sarcasm.
"Actually to reward you for your efforts-"
"You mean successfully thwarting massive bomb attacks,"
Oliver surprised everyone by standing up to her, speaking in an aggressive tone.
Sara sighed. "Like I said he wants to reward you and officially pardon Malcolm for his previous actions, muddle them as some undercover stuff. No publicity, just Malcolm's and our presence at the White House is requested to receive the signed documents. He is a sentimental type. Then you are free to work undercover as previously agreed, no 'parading', like Malcolm stipulated. And he wants to talk to you on the phone now, Emily."
"Awesome," Emily said sarcastically, as she stood up, then went past Sara, bumped into her painfully with her shoulder.
"Hey, wh-" Sara protested.
"It's either that or unloading my anger on the POTUS, so take the win," she said, went into the cockpit and took the phone from the copilot. "Hello, Mr President, how may I help you?" she asked in that polite stewardess voice she was afraid she'd be stuck with if she didn't growl on Sara more often.
"Hello, Emily, like Sara probably told you, I've decided to invite you to the Whitehouse to receive your commendations and give Mr Merlyn his official pardon. A very private gathering, but in order for you and your team, especially Mr Merlyn, to continue your mission, we need to muddle the waters. No huge headlines, just a note here or there about the loss of his wife and his quiet efforts to better the Glades and that the Earthquake was somewhat of a misunderstanding."
"Mr President, Malcolm is really not the type to–"
"I know what you are going to say, but that's in the past and he is good for this country and the world in the future. He can't let himself get gunned down, drown in guilt. The way he repents is by helping now, on a sort of down-low."
Emily smiled. "I think my team and I managed to convince him of that already, and we will be honored to meet you. Just no press, please."
"I will give out a minor release afterwards, saying nothing more than what we agreed to now."
"Allright, then we will shake on it as soon as we get to Washington."
"You will be guided to my private estate landing strip, no paparazzi. Looking forward to seeing you and your friends."
XxXxXxX
Emily came back to the main compartment and told the others of what POTUS had proposed.
"What do you think Ems?" Malcolm asked.
Sara started to say something but Emily shushed her with a sharp gesture of her hand.
"I think we should do it. He seems like a reasonable man, I don't think it's a trap. Look at these attacks we've been facing, look at how many people you've helped, despite your faults. He is smart, he knows he needs people like us to fight them. And let's face it, none of us are saints and we're warriors, we can hold our own. It's just a small gathering on one of his private estates."
"I agree with her. Not just because she is my daughter, but because she is one of the most annoyingly paranoid and cautious people on the planet and if she trusts this, I trust it," John Carson said, causing chuckles in the group.
"Dad, really?" She punched him playfully on the shoulder.
Sabrina, Abby, Kevin and Tim nodded in agreement.
Emily chuckled: "Okay well, then, team, get your best attires out, cause we are going to the Whitehouse!"
The people filed out, only Sara an Oliver were left.
"You know what Ollie, this feels eerily like I'm on an ARGUS version of the Waverider, Emily Carson has taken over my ship, she is calling the shots, and worst of all, she stole my inspirational send off line!"
Oliver chuckled. "You're Sara Lance, you'll bounce back from that. Come on, we have 'attires' to pick out."
XxXxXxX
Argus plane, hours before the recognition /pardon ceremony
Malcolm and John Carson were trying on their suits, fixing their ties, then Emily stormed in, holding some luggage.
"You two, strip, now," She said in a commanding voice.
"Ems, wha—"
"We need to change your suits. These -" she indicated the bag, "are next level Kevlar tuxes, developed secretly by Sabrina and Abby. Approved and tested by Kevin and Tim. You're gonna wear them." She pulled out the first one : "This one's for you Dad, light blue, reinforced shirt, dark blue reinforced tux, and a dark and light blue tie. You always look good in blue."
Then she turned to Malcolm and shoved a white shirt at him. "Kevlar reinforced," then a black tux. "Kevlar reinforced' and a bowtie. "You, Mr Merlyn, are going James Bond style. Now, chop chop you two, off to the changing rooms, we're on a clock here."
"Yeah, but you're still wearing your nightgown and your robe, is that the style you're going with? Do they make Kevlar lingerie now?" Malcolm asked and John Carson chuckled.
Emily huffed. "I'm a work in progress trying to make you safe! Now get in there and start getting dressed before I start throwing stuff at you instead of doing my gown fitting!"
"No objection there, dear," John Carson said, put his arm on Malcolm's shoulder and directed him to the changing rooms. "Trust me Malcolm, true love as it is with you two, you don't wanna challenge her on the wardrobe, especially when she's trying to protect you."
"Understood and very much noted, John. Now, let's try on these contraptions Abby and Sabrina invented."
XxXxXxX
Emily met with Sabrina in the corridor. The genius hacker was wearing a stunning black and red gown, the red made into small dragon patterns, her dark hair, slightly wavy, some streaks of red hair dye stylishly applied. "Well, don't you clean up well," Emily smiled.
"Ems, it's all well and good, but I really hate walking in heels."
"Why do you think I mostly prance around in studded motorcycle shoes and reinforced heels?"
"So you can pack an extra punch when kicking a bad guy in the nuts?" Sabrina smirked.
Emily chuckled. "Yeah, that too, but they provide more balance.
"Well I heard a rumor Sara almost made a dent with her stiletto shoe in the skull of a goon that was walking away from her."
"Well, impressive. Might include that in random conversation when we're bored."
Sabrina doubled over laughing. "So how do we survive today's charade?"
"We'll just sit sipping champagne most of the time with charming smiles, pretending we're above this."
"But you're not even dressed yet, what the heck?!"
"I had to deliver Kevlar enhanced suits to my Dad and Malcolm and the shoemaker had measured my feet wrong so I am waiting for them to make them right," Emily huffed.
"Well then at least go back in and get your frikking dress on."
"Cool it, Bri, we still have more than two hours."
"Yeah, so I'm going back to our room to put my frikking feet up, maybe ice them even! Good luck!"
XxXxXxX
Emily turned and saw Sara Lance in a close fitting green gown, hand in hand with Oliver Queen, in a very dark green shade of tux.
"Color coordinating with each other, nice," Emily said with a smile.
"If this is some attempt at sarcasm–" Sara started.
"No, really, it looks good, it's not me playing a mean girl." Emily waved it off in an honest tone. "Besides, green is usually called a color of hope, and we really do need that now. You two look dashing. AAAAnd I'm still waiting for my dressmaker to arrive, so no worries, I'm not attending the ceremony in a nightgown and bathrobe. The President said to feel free to wander the grounds while he and his wife get ready, so, it's up to you," She chuckled and headed in the direction of her own room.
"Shall we, Sara? Play the not so Mister and Madam President? We've been given permission, after all."
"Oh why not, kind Sir," Sara chuckled as she grabbed his gallantly offered arm.
XxXxXxX
"Calm down, Ems, this is not my first rodeo!" Sabrina griped as she put the curler through Emily's dark hair, spritzing it with hairspray moderately to add volume to her already luscious curls. Abby added a darker style of makeup with silver highlights, dark silver brocade nail polish, arrowhead earrings and necklace, then zipped up Emily's silver gown with black elements, added a Malcolm style green League necklace on top, put on her silver arrow themed bracelet and her always there, simple silver ring, and the re-made, fitting, comfy heels. Then as a final touch, a thin silver tiara with Swarovski gems on top, black and white, which Sabrina put there while she said; "Girl, every 'Dark Empress' has to make a statement with her crown."
Emily grabbed her wrist back then to check her other black and silver bracelets were there and exclaimed with relief.
Abby went all out with her gothic attire and the guy doing some last minute decorations asked her out on an impromptu date, which she felt kinda excited about.
The President was announced in the main hall, rocking a tux; his slightly overweight wife made the best of a golden gown and a very wonderful hairstyle.
Sara and Oliver, Kevin and John, Sabrina and Tim also scored pretty dates and looked very dapper.
Then there came the event of the evening. Malcolm Merlyn looking pristine in his James Bond tux, some silverish theme running discreetly down the subtle emblazonment on his arms. Accompanying him was Emily, who was a vision to behold. A bright silver ball gown with some discreet black elements, fit for an empress, silver and dark makeup, a tiara, also fit for an empress but not overdone. Her hair was down, slightly wavy, pinned with arrowhead silver pins, slightly to the side, cascading down her arm and back.
The pair managed to look royal but in a way that made people go 'ooooooh' with wonder or some envy not 'euwww': with like; they went over the top or what the heck are they wearing?'
The gathering could not be called intimate, but definitely moderate. Emily and Malcolm made polite chitchat with the President and his wife. The women complimented themselves on their attires, clinked some glasses of champagne, the men moved on a little further. Malcolm politely poured himself and the President some Scotch, informing him that NCIS was well versed in security procedures and on site. "So are CIA, NSA, FBI, ARGUS, Malcolm." We are like Fort Knox on steroids here."
"Yes, Mr President, but we are also targeted by unhinged individuals that make Hitler, Stalin, Bin Laden, Saddam Hussein combined seem like dolls throwing a small tea party in comparison." Malcolm sighed in exasperation. "I wish I'd been able to fool them longer, to stay undercover and maybe would have proven able to do it if they hadn't constantly pumped me full of hallucinogenic and mind- altering drugs.-"
The President put a hand on his arm. "Mr Merlyn, we know all that, our tests have proven what monstrosities have been done to you. You've shown extreme resilience and don't dare question me on that: 'heroism'. So I know beyond any certainty you are able to help us fight these new enemies. What I need you and Emily to do tonight is each speak briefly about your actions and how you are going to help from now on. The audience has been carefully chosen, our firewalls are constantly monitored. You are free to say what you need to say to further our common agenda. I will start, then you, Mr Merlyn, then Ms Carson. Afterwards, my wife concludes.
"We don't even have our speeches prepared, they''ll stone us on the stand!" Malcolm did his best whisper exclamation.
"Don't worry, strategy is in place, like we discussed. White lies and think about the future."
"It is for the best, Malcolm, you know," Gibbs said as he squeezed his shoulder. The Dark Archer nodded resignedly.
"Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen. I have decided to throw this gathering here to recognize the events the world, especially the United States and Europe have been facing recently. Terrorist attacks, not not mention the pandemic, the unjust war Russia is waging against Ukraine.
"We are here to answer these problems. It is no surprise that Mr Malcolm Merlyn, who is accused of multiple crimes against the Glades, returning from allegedly being dead, has been caught in a multitude of lies and muddles of scander. I am granting him this presidential pardon with full knowledge of the difficulties he and so many of us have gone through and are going through now. In fact, he shall speak on that topic briefly now."
He took a gulp of water. "So is Ms Emily Carson, and know that the rest of their team, have the full support of me and this government."
The President approached Malcolm, personally pinned an elegant silver medal of honor to his lapel and handed him a letter of pardon. Then it was time for the Dark Archer to speak.
"Thank you, Mr, President, although I must say, had she been alive, my wife Rebecca should be receiving this medal from you. Losing her has been the hardest thing I ever had to endure and the unrelenting goal of her life has been to remedy what ails this world. She did that as a doctor, as a humanitarian, a friend and a mother. I wish that what I did and am doing now could come even a smidgeon closer to…. to what she accomplished in a far more gracious and compassionate way than I ever could. War and loss tend to bring out the worst in us. The pardon, I will devote my life to earn. But earning this pardon is not my ultimate goal. What it is, is preventing from what happened to my family all these years ago, what Rebecca fought everyday to prevent or alleviate that she saw daily happen to other families and communities. What we faced then and what we are facing today - overcoming that, this is our battle and the goal of the team I am working with. Thank you."
Malcolm stepped down from the podium, while Emily climbed it and received her own small silver, arrow- shaped pin of recognition, while the other members of the team received theirs in the background.
"Thank you, Mr President. Like Mr Merlyn said, what we are doing started long ago, with his wife Rebecca, but also with soldiers in wars way before our lifetimes. War is a cruel time and, like my father and hero, John Carson, says: it doesn't have to be officially named a war to be so. But make no mistake, this is still a war, maybe not emblazoned with a Swastika or another symbol on a flag or a sleeve. Who knows, maybe it will be labeled somehow eventually, by the terrorists, the perpetrators of these hideous crimes." She sighed and continued. "The truth is brutal: Violence begets violence, peace may be peace only in name and hatred tends to rear its ugly head in many unexpected ways. Whatever history chooses to label Mr Merlyn or our teams, or even this or future generations, we are here, fighting, for our now. And for the future. We cannot promise there won't be bad guys after we are long gone, wars to be fought. But like a brilliant philosopher, Eckhart Tolle says: "Live in the now." And I add from myself: "so that a better future may come. Because staying down and cowering from your enemy is never the answer." Her voice resonated and she went down the podium to a towering round of applause.
"Thank you Mr Merlyn, Ms Carson. Let us enjoy the now and fight for the future," The First Lady concluded, smiling.
XxXxXxX
The US President's private estate, 40 minutes later.
Emily, Malcolm, Tony, Kev, and John Carson were making rounds inside, accepting some genuine, some fake smiles and toasts from the guests inside, while Sabrina, Abby, Tim and Gibbs and Sara were outside, scouring the roofs and grounds with Carson's and Argus Teams.
"How's it going, Team Dragon?" Tim asked.
"Would be going much better, if it weren't for those damn slippery heels," Sabrina griped.
"You can always drop them," Sara chuckled.
"Great idea, especially that you're directly on the level below me. Hope they hit you on the head!" Sabrina griped as she literally slipped them off.
"Ouch! I was joking!" Came Sara's voice.
"Hey, this is not a heel-slinging competition!" Gibbs chastised.
"Well, I won!" Sabrina chuckled while Sara growled.
"Okay, less slinging, more watching. What are you seeing?" John Carson asked.
"A couple of bogies with guns outside." Abby piped up from her vantage point.
"Okay, I am on them," Sabrina said sliding down a nearby pipe.
"Uum guuuuyys, I have way worse news inside." Tony joined in. "I got about two, make that four tangos approaching the President and his wife inside. Your father is dancing with her. No silencers visible. Malcolm, your six, Emily, your 11."
"Shit, my Dad is in the line of fire," Emily mumbled before she ran straight for her father, while Malcolm did the same for the President.
Gunshots exploded as they tackled them to the ground. Tony managed to down one of the shooters, Malcolm was closer to him, but the Dark Archer still received a nasty wound to his right side. The President was unharmed, just slightly shocked.
Emily managed to cover the first lady and her Dad but the full amount of the blast hit herself. Blood quickly spread on the silver of her dress. Tony was the closest.
"Damn, the bullet exploded during the blast, we need ambulances ASAP!" He took off his tux trying to stop most of the bleeding.
"We have top notch onsite medical staff," the President said as he rose after checking on his wife.
"Already called them, they're on their way."
Malcolm crawled towards Emily who was enclosed in her father's embrace. His hands quickly became drenched in her blood."Ems, just hold on!" the Dark Archer managed to whisper before losing consciousness.
Two faces appeared on the main screen in the room: "Hope you enjoyed your little soiree, Mr President?" Came Cayden's voice. "Lots of red liquid, not necessarily wine?"
Gibbs burst in and shot the other bogies, while Tony noticed the hidden cameras, his vision suddenly 360. "Not as much as he is going to enjoy another soiree with your red liquids painting every wall around wherever rock you crawl from under." He started shooting as well, hitting each camera perfectly, including that on the screen.
Author's note: Quite the cliffhanger, huh? Nothing like a good massacre to build up the atmosphere. And Tony out of it?
Gotta love NCIS as well as Arrow!