Bloodlust: An Arrow Fanfiction-Ch.4: Brother's in Arms

Bloodlust: An Arrow Fan Fiction-Chapter 4: Brother's in Arms

         Oliver reentered the world of conscious beings by way of an ice-cold blast of water to the face.  Blinking away the shock and the pain that coursed through his body he tried to stand up only to find his hands and feet securely fastened to the chair that he was seated in.

            "Wake up Mr. Queen," Oliver heard a deep bassy voice say through the haze of his mind.

            Looking up slowly Oliver saw a grim looking Bruce Wayne standing over him holding an empty glass pitcher.  Watching Bruce place the pitcher down on a nearby table and pull up a chair Oliver struggled to free his hands from their bonds.

            "There's no use in struggling Oliver," Bruce said as he took a seat directly across from his captive.  "I tied those towels on your hands and feet pretty tight.  You'll just end up hurting yourself trying to get out."

            "Why don't you save the pleasantries and get this over with," Oliver said as he continued to struggle with his bonds.

            "What exactly do you think 'this' is Oliver?" Bruce asked as he leaned back into his chair.

            "I don't like waiting to die...so do what you came here to do and get it over with," Oliver growled.

            Breaking into an uncontrollable chuckle Bruce Wayne shook his head in amusement.  Managing to reign in his mirth after a few moments he looked at Oliver with a slight smile in his eyes and said, "Oliver you and I are a lot alike...just like I told you last night.  The only difference between us is that I don't kill."

            "You have a funny way of showing it," Oliver wheezed as his movements to free himself set off a fire in his chest from where Bruce's foot had impacted.

            "Ah.  You mean the kick...I'm sorry about that," Bruce said.  "I just needed to get you in a position where you and I could talk...without you shooting off your bow of course."

            Managing to catch his breath Oliver asked, "Who are you?  What do you want with me?"

            "As I told you last night in the alleyway I'm like you," Bruce said as he raised his glass and took a small sip of water.  "In Gotham I'm the one who goes out and does what the police can't...or won't.  I bring those who would terrorize innocent people to justice.  You could say I am Gotham City's vigilante."

            "Batman," Oliver said as he remembered what Bruce had called himself the other night.

            "That's right," Bruce replied with a smile.  "As for what I want...well that is rather simple Oliver.  I want your help."

            "With what?" Oliver asked sitting still for the first time.

            "I need you to help me catch Lawton...and I need to take him alive.  That's the real reason I cam to Starling City.  The business that I had with Queen Consolidated was just a cover up so that I could come out here without drawing suspicion," Bruce said.

            "Walter is going to be disappointed to hear that," Oliver replied.  "As for me...not so much."

            Chuckling some more Bruce said, "Yes, well we will get to Mr. Steele in a minute.  For now I need your word that you'll help me take down Lawton and that we'll be taking him alive."

            "He doesn't deserve to live," Oliver said quietly.

            "Why do you think that Oliver?  Why do you want him dead?" Bruce asked.

            "He killed my friend's brother," Oliver said with venom in his voice.

            "And that's enough to justify you killing this man in turn?" Bruce asked.

            "He's killed dozens of people all over the world!  Everyone of them is more than enough reason for him to die!" Oliver yelled.

            "There are other ways to bring a killer to justice Oliver," Bruce replied calmly.

            "Not this time," Oliver said in turn.  "Not for him."

            Bruce said nothing in return and let a tense silence hang between the two of them.

            After long moments of silence Oliver asked the one question that had been plaguing his mind since he had first heard Bruce's proposition.  Without a waver in his voice he asked, "Why do you want Deadshot alive so badly?"

            Looking up from his silent meditation Bruce Wayne arose from his chair as he grabbed his glass of water.  Turning his back to Oliver he took a few sips from his glass before replying, "He killed a friend of mine...a woman that I was close to.  Her name was Selina Kyle.  He also crippled the police commissioner’s daughter in the fight that ensued."

            "Deadshot always gets his target...he doesn't miss.  Bringing him in alive won't bring her back Bruce," Oliver said.  "He's better off dead."

            "This time he did miss," Bruce said quietly.  "The bullet wasn't meant for Selina...it was meant for me."

            "What?" Oliver said in surprise.

            Sighing heavily Bruce replied, "Deadshot was hired by a former lover of mine, Talia Al-Ghul.  Years ago I killed her father Ra's-my one time mentor. Ever since then Talia has tried numerous times to take my life in revenge- all of them with no success.  Selina got in the way...she was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

            After another moment of silence Oliver said, "I thought you said you didn't kill."

            "I don't!" Bruce snapped.  "Not since Ra's.  Not if I can help it.  Even with him I tried not to, but it couldn't be helped."

            "Maybe you should," Oliver said.  "Maybe Selina would have wanted it that way."

            "I've made my peace with Selina's death," Bruce said somberly still facing away from Oliver.  "She wouldn't want me to change who I am because of what had happened.  I know that."

            "Wouldn't she?" Oliver asked trying to get into Bruce's head.

            "Would Felicity if the roles were reversed?"  Bruce countered as he turned to face Oliver.

            Blinking in surprise once more Oliver didn't reply.

            Smiling down at him Bruce took a sip of his water and said, "You know the other night at dinner Felicity would not stop talking about you and the kind of man you can be Oliver.  That's one hell of a girlfriend that you have."

            "We're just friends," Oliver replied with a blank expression on his face.

            "Really?" Bruce said in surprise.  "From the way she spoke about you and the way you were looking at her in the diner two nights ago I could have sworn you two were an item."

            "You're mistaken," Oliver replied as he swallowed slowly to mask his discomfort of the topic.  "We're just friends."

            "Be that as it may," Bruce said with a knowing smile.  "Answer the question though Oliver.  What would Felicity want you to do if she were in Selina's place and you were in mine?"

            Oliver never got a chance to answer the question as a shot rang out in the club and the glass in Bruce's hand shattered.  Looking toward the source of the shot Oliver saw Diggle striding across the empty dance floor with his gun pointed directly at Bruce Wayne's chest.

            "Mr. Diggle," Bruce said in a warm welcoming tone.  "Welcome.  What took you so long?"

            Stopping in surprise with his gun still leveled at Bruce's chest Diggle asked," What?"

            Lifting up his right hand Bruce showed Oliver and Diggle the small button-like object that rested between his fingertips.

            "Oliver's boot distress beacon," Digg said.  "But I thought Oliver..."

            "No, Mr. Diggle," Bruce interrupted as he walked over to Oliver and untied the hand towels that restrained him to the chair.  "I've found the beacon in Mr. Queen's boot when I searched him.  I summoned you here...and if you are going to ask as to how I know your name the answer is pretty simple.  I hacked into Mr. Queen's phone."

            "That still doesn't explain why you have him tied to a chair," Diggle said as he readjusted his aim to Bruce's head.

            "It's okay Digg," Oliver said as he massaged his wrists and stood stiffly from the chair.  "Mr. Wayne and I just had a little...misunderstanding."

            "Uh huh," Diggle replied as he holstered his weapon.

            "I'm in need of your assistance Mr. Diggle," Bruce said not wasting any more time.  "Yours, along with the Starling City Vigilante’s."

            "Oliver..." Diggle began to say as he reached for his gun.

            "It's okay Digg," Oliver interrupted as he raised his hand to calm Diggle.  "He knows.  He's the guy from the alley the other night."

            "He's the freak that kicked your ass?" Diggle asked in surprise and what looked like mild respect on his face.

            "Yeah," Oliver replied with a tight-lipped grim smile.

            "No wonder he had you tied to the chair like a..." Diggle began to say.

            "Digg! Not now," Oliver interrupted in annoyance.

            Raising his hands in mock surrender Diggle asked, "So what does Mr. Wayne want with the two of us?"

            "I need your help with a mutual enemy," Bruce said with his back to the two of them as he scanned through something on his phone.

            Diggle looked over at Oliver questioningly.

            "Lawton," Oliver said stiffly.

            "Deadshot?!" Diggle said once again surprised.  "What does he want with him?"

            "Justice apparently," Oliver replied.

            "Don't you mean revenge?" Diggle corrected.  "With Lawton the only kind of justice that you can have is revenge.  What did he do to him?"

            "He killed a woman whom I was close with," Bruce answered for Oliver as he turned to face the pair.  "He also crippled the Gotham police commissioner’s daughter.  For that I need to take him alive.  He has to answer to the law for what he's done."

            "No way," Digg said heatedly. "If you want him to answer to the law then you should have gone to see Detective Lance of the Starling City police.  For what Deadshot did to Andy he's a dead man."

            "And if you kill him will that bring you some measure of peace?" Bruce asked Diggle.

            "Without a doubt," Diggle with no hesitation.

            After a few minutes of silence Bruce said, "I can't let you do that."

            "Excuse me?" Diggle asked as he moved forward to stand in front of Bruce.  "You won't let me?"

            "No," Bruce said tensely.  "I need you to help me take him down, but I won't let you kill him.  I need to bring him back to Gotham alive.  Killing him isn't my idea of justice.  He can rot in a jail cell for the rest of his life for all I care, but I need him alive."

            "Guys..." Oliver began sensing that the situation was getting out of hand.

            "Who are you to say what I can or can't do?" Diggle asked not hearing Oliver in his rage.  "Lawton is a dead man and there is nothing you can do or say to make me change my mind."

            "Walter Steele," Bruce said slowly as he stared Diggle down.

            "What?" Oliver asked upon hearing his stepfather's name.

            "Deadshot had three targets here in Starling City," Bruce explained to Oliver as he continued to stare into Diggle's eyes.  "Two of them are dead.  The third, Walter Steele, is next."

            "How do you know that?" Diggle asked as he met Bruce's gaze unflinchingly.  "Who hired the hit?"

            "I interrogated Deadshot's agent before I came to Starling City," Bruce said.  "As for who put out the hit all I got was a first name."

            "Who?" Diggle asked glancing quickly over at Oliver who was listening intently to every word.

            "Her name is Isabel," Bruce said.

            Looking at Oliver for a reaction, Diggle observed a searching expression flash across his face at the name.  Turning back to look at Bruce Digg asked, "Well when and how would he take out Walter Steele?  He's all the way in Metropolis."

            "The airfield," Oliver replied quietly.

            "Exactly," Bruce said in agreement.

            "Umm does anybody want to fill me in here? What airfield?" Diggle asked as he looked between the two men.

            "The private airfield at the airport," Oliver explained.  "It's where the wealthy hold all their private airplanes."

            "Care to elaborate? I didn't grow up rich you know," Diggle said searching for more.

            "Mr. Steele is flying in from Metropolis," Bruce explained picking up where Oliver had left off.  "All domestic flights with private jets aren't subject to the security checks domestic commercial flights are."

            "A private runway, multiple hangars, a private terminal, along with little to no security, and all of it being away from the main commercial terminals...it's the perfect killing ground," Oliver concluded.

            Breaking the silence that ensued Diggle asked, "So when does he get back into Starling City?  How do we know when this is all going to go down?"

            "Tonight," Oliver replied.  "Walter lands in Starling City tonight at midnight."

            "That only gives us a few hours to get ready," Diggle said looking at his watch.

            "That's why I need both of you," Bruce said.  "I can't take Deadshot alone and make sure that Mr. Steele stays alive at the same time."

            "Well," Diggle said as he glanced at his watch again, "I guess we need to get to work then."

            "Thank you," Bruce said as Oliver and Diggle began to head towards the exit.

            "Don't thank me yet," Diggle called back.  "I'm still going to shoot him when I get the chance."

*STARLING CITY PRIVATE AIRFEILD-MIDNIGHT*

            Hiding in the shadow of an airplane hangar Oliver scanned the Queen Consolidated hanger across the way while keeping an eye on the private Learjet that taxied slowly towards a full stop.  Spotting Diggle standing tensely in the shadow of a waiting S.U.V. Oliver searched the night for Bruce.

            "Bruce?" Oliver asked.  "Where are you?"

            "On the roof above you," Bruce's voice crackled through Oliver's earpiece.

            "Digg?  Do you have eyes on the plane?" Oliver asked as he scanned the night once more.

            "Five by five," Diggle replied quietly.

            Watching the area around him with intensity Oliver kept one eye on the now parked jet.  Walter would be getting off soon.

            "Digg, get ready to grab Walter as soon as he gets off," Oliver said as the plane's hatch opened and became a staircase.

            Just as Walter Steele poked his head out of the plane's hatch a loud retort from Oliver's right rang throughout the night.  Oliver had just enough time to see Diggle run up the stairs and tackle Walter back into the plane as the bullet sailed past and ricocheted off the railing in a small shower of sparks before he was off an running in the direction of the shot.

            "I'm on it Oliver," Bruce said through Oliver's earpiece as several more shots rang out into the night.  "He's four hangars over on top of the terminal building."

            Rounding the second hangar Oliver stopped in his tracks as he heard three more shots ring out.  The distinct pings of impact with the jet could be faintly heard at this distance.  Glancing over at the jet Oliver saw the flash of an impacting bullet as the jet was punctured and began to leak its remaining fuel onto the tarmac.

            With a horrifying realization Oliver yelled, "Digg! Get Walter off of the plane! He's trying to blow the fuel..."

            Right then a resounding explosion erupted from the direction of the Queen Consolidated hangar as the jet went up in a fireball of smoke and debris.

            "Diggle!" Oliver yelled as he shielded his shock and his eyes from the harsh light of the explosion.  "Diggle! Are you all right?!  Did you get Walter?!"

            For a few infinite heartbeats Oliver heard only the sound of the rumbling fireball that had been the jet before he heard Diggle say, "Yeah man, I got him!"

             Letting a sigh of relief escape his lips Oliver asked, "Are you okay?  Are either you or Walter hurt?"

            "Whom are you talking to?" Oliver faintly heard Walter ask Diggle before he heard Diggle reply," The police.  Don't worry sir they've got everything under control."

            "Are you two hurt in any way?" Oliver repeated.

            "No Oli...man.  Just a few cuts from when the windows of the car shattered from the blast concussion.  I managed to get Mr. Steele out of one of the emergency exits and had enough time to duck behind the S.U.V. when the plane blew.  The car is totaled though.  There's a piece of one propeller buried in the engine.  I'm going to get Mr. Steele out on foot then I'm coming right back to help you."

            "No Digg.  Get Walter out and stay with him until the police arrive," Oliver said.

            "But Deadshot..." Diggle began to say.

            "John! Please get Walter to safety,” Oliver said as he ran past the third hangar towards the terminal where he could see Bruce and Deadshot locked in combat on the flat rooftop.  "I'll handle Lawton."

            *FLASHBACK TO THE CLUB EARLIER*

            "Oliver," Bruce called out catching up to him at Verdant's exit. "Wait a minute please."

            Looking over at Diggle as the two men stopped Bruce held his silence.

            "I'll be along in a minute Digg," Oliver said catching on.

            "Your call man," Diggle replied as he headed out of the exit.

            "Oliver, I'm going to need you on the ground tonight at the airfield," Bruce said firmly not bothering to dance around the subject.

            "Why?" Oliver asked.

            "Frankly it's because I don't know that if you get Lawton in your sights first that you won't put an arrow through his eyes," Bruce replied.  "I need a shot to take him alive and the only way I feel that I can do that is if I get to him first."

            "I've already put an arrow through his eye," Oliver replied stiffly.  "You don't trust me? Do you really think you can take Lawton on your own?"

            "I trust you enough to trust me and give me this chance Oliver," Bruce said as he reached behind his jacket and into the waistband of his pants.  Bringing his arm around in front of him Bruce showed Oliver the black gun with an oversized barrel and hook attachment that he had pulled out.  "But if I do get into trouble take my grapple gun.  It will allow you to reach me quickly.  Just remember to hold on tight.  She's got a nasty pull."

            "Alright," Oliver said taking the gun out of Bruce's hands and turning towards the exit. "I'll stay on the ground. Just don't fail. I can't afford to lose Walter."

            "I won't," Bruce said as he reached into his right pocket while stopping Oliver by placing his other hand on Oliver's shoulder.  "Take this too."

            Turning back Oliver saw a small metallic object in the shape of a bat resting in Bruce's outstretched hand.  Picking up the bat-shaped metal Oliver said, "This looks familiar."

            "No doubt," Bruce replied with a smile.  "It's called a Batarang.  It's smaller and lighter than one of your arrows allowing it to fly faster.  Take it...just in case."

*FLASHBACK TO THE AIRFIELD*

            A hundred feet from the terminal building Oliver pulled the grapple gun that Bruce had given him from where it was clipped onto his belt.  Still running forward he aimed at the edge of the building's roof and fired.  Swinging his bow onto one shoulder just in time Oliver grabbed the gun with both hands as the hook sunk into the cement of the building and he was yanked off of his feet with a speed and force that massively strained his entire right side and nearly separated his shoulder from his body.  Propelling six stories up Oliver just managed to catch the edge of the roof next to the fire escape as his speed caused him to impact into the side of the building and all the breath was knocked out of his body.  Groaning with the strain of nearly having his shoulder separated and the wind knocked out of him he heaved himself over the roof's edge and up onto its flat surface.

            Standing up slowly Oliver saw Bruce drive an armored fist into Deadshot's mechanical red eye and knock the rifle out of his hands.  At the same time Deadshot slammed the palm of his hand up and under Bruce's masked head causing it to snap back as he kicked Bruce solidly in the chest to have him stumble and land on his back.  Seeing his opening Deadshot raised his right hand and aimed his wrist-mounted gun for the kill. 

            With the speed of need Oliver reached into the small pouch on his waist and let fly the Batarang that Bruce had given him. Immediately after he pulled out, nocked, and aimed an arrow at his target.  Flying true the Batarang caught Deadshot right in the barrel of his gun severing through the firing mechanism before it implanted itself in his upper arm.  Howling in pain Deadshot spotted Oliver as the source of the attack that had taken out his gun.  He raised his other wrist-mounted gun to fire at his attacker but Oliver had already let the arrow he had nocked fly and it too caught Deadshot unprepared as it blasted through the barrel of his other gun and stopped its ability to fire.  In quick succession Oliver knocked another arrow and let it fly catching Lawton just above his right knee.

            Falling to the ground a black boot caught Deadshot directly under the chin as Bruce Wayne used Oliver's opening to counter attack.  Springing to his feet Bruce backhanded Deadshot across the face sending him skidding across the rooftop towards the edge.  Just as he was about to go over Bruce caught up with Lawton's flailing form.  Grabbing Lawton by the leg he used Lawton's own momentum to swing him up, kicking him solidly in the stomach and sent him skidding a foot away from the edge and back towards Oliver.

            Coming up Oliver swung his bow around and caught Deadshot across the other side of the face.  As Lawton collapsed to the ground Oliver quickly grabbed an arrow from his quiver, nocked it, and aimed for the man's heart.

            "Don't!" Bruce said coming up across Oliver leaving Deadshot firmly in the middle.  "Don't do it!"

            "Why not?" Oliver growled not taking his eyes off of Lawton who struggled for breath on the ground between the two men.

            "You said you'd help me take him alive," Bruce said as he tried to calm Oliver down.

            "I said I'd stay on the ground while you had your shot," Oliver replied coldly.  "I never said I'd let him live."

            "Stop!" Bruce yelled losing his patience and his temper.  "You're better than this.  This isn't justice."

            "This is the only justice that matters," Oliver replied as he released his grip on the arrow.

            Out of the night a shot rang out close by and a bullet glanced off of the bottom of Oliver's bow causing his lead arm to swing up.  Watching in surprised horror Oliver saw the arrow leave the drawstring and impact firmly under the edge of the armor of Bruce's right shoulder.  Sailing back from the force of a point blank shot Bruce bounced off of the rooftop and over the edge falling out of sight.

            Spinning around in search of the source of the shot Oliver was caught off guard as a series of strikes across his face, arms, chest and legs delivered by a black and orange blur knocked the bow out of his hand and over the roof's edge.  A swift sidekick to the chest sent Oliver skidding back a few feet across the concrete roof away from Deadshot.

            Struggling to breath and aching all over Oliver forced himself away from unconsciousness and onto his feet.  Looking over towards Deadshot he saw a figure in black and orange body armor with two swords sticking up over the top of his shoulders and a small rifle strapped over his arm gazing down at Lawton's stunned expression.  It was the half orange and half black mask with the missing eye that had Oliver truly at a loss for words more than his inability to breath.

            "Slade?" Oliver gasped out half in shock and half still winded from the kick to the chest.

            "Hey kid," Slade Wilson replied as he delivered a knockout blow to the face of Floyd Lawton sending him unceremoniously into unconsciousness.

            "What are you doing here?" Oliver said through a fit of coughing as he stumbled toward his old friend.  "Why did you attack me?"

            "It's nothing personal kid," Slade replied still looking down at the unconscious Floyd Lawton.  "It's just a job.  You were about to kill Lawton and I need him alive."

            "For what?" Oliver asked now close enough to Slade to reach out and grab his shoulder.

            Grabbing Oliver's arm and flipping him over his shoulder Slade slammed a booted foot onto Oliver's upper back and held him in a lock.  Twisting Oliver's arm Slade said, "My employer wants Lawton to finish what he started back in Gotham City.  Personally I'd love to kill the slime myself but I'm not being paid for that.  I'm just here to deliver a very painful message to Mr. Lawton...and to stop anyone who gets in my way.  Who was the pointy eared idiot that you shot?"

            "A friend," Oliver said as he struggled to escape from Slade's grasp only to be met with a sharp kick to the back and another painful twist of his arm.

            "Your time back in civilization has made you soft boy," Slade spit.  "What did I tell you about friends kid?  Everyone in this life is out for themselves."

            "Just like you right?" Oliver groaned out through the pain.  "So what are you going to do 'friend'?  Are you going to kill me after everything we went through on the Island?"

            "No kid.  I'm not going to kill you," Slade replied after thinking the question over.  "It's exactly because of everything that happened on the island that you're still alive.  You get a pass...this time...you and your pointy-eared 'friend'.  My employer isn't paying me enough to kill either of you anyway."

            "You're real merciful Slade," Oliver groaned.

            "But make no mistake kid," Slade said with a breath of warning on his lips.  "If you get in my way or you and your 'friend' go after Lawton again before he's finished what he was paid to do you'll see the limits of my mercy.  And don't call me Slade anymore.  That man died on the Island just like Oliver Queen did.  The name is Death Stroke."

            Releasing Oliver's arm Death Stroke grabbed his gun and in one motion flipped it and slammed the butt of the rifle into the back of Oliver's head sending him into an unwilling sleep.

            Awakening to the sound of insistent buzzing Oliver found himself lying shirtless on his bed and staring up at the ceiling with the biggest headache he had ever had in his life.  Rolling over slowly Oliver noticed his phone buzzing away on his nightstand.

            Picking up the phone and laying back against his pillow to try to stop his head from pounding open Oliver quietly said, "Hello?"

            "Hello Oliver.  It's Bruce," the voice over the phone said.  "How are you feeling?"

            "Like I fell off the side of a building," Oliver mumbled.

            Chuckling grimly Bruce said, "You were only knocked out.  I'm the one who actually fell off the side of a building."

            Remembering that he had shot Bruce with his arrow and watched him tumble of the edge of the terminal rooftop Oliver quickly sat up causing him to aggravate his already intense headache.

            Taking a few calming breaths Oliver said, "Bruce I'm so sorry.  It was an accident.  Are you okay?"

            "I know Oliver," Bruce replied.  "I'm mostly fine.  The arrow didn't penetrate very far. The fall dislocated my shoulder unfortunately.  Mr. Diggle managed to show up and patch us both up though."

            "What about Deadshot?" Oliver asked as more memories of the previous night flooded back into his consciousness.

            "He got away," Bruce said managing to sound even grimmer.  "I saw him being carried off into the night by some guy in black and orange body armor."

            "Slade," Oliver whispered to himself in recognition.

            "Who?" Bruce asked not hearing him properly.

            "He's...he was a friend.  I'm not sure what he is now.  He calls himself...Death Stroke," Oliver replied holding back Slade's name for a reason he couldn't fathom.

            "Death Stroke..." Bruce repeated wearily.  "I've heard that name somewhere before.  If he is who you say he is then we have a bigger problem that Dead Shot of on our hands.  From what I know about him he's an even more dangerous mercenary than Lawton could ever be."

            "You have no idea," Oliver said.  "Last night...he told me that we was sent here by the same person who employed Lawton...he was sent to remind Lawton to finish the job that he was paid to do in Gotham."

            "You mean to assassinate me," Bruce said catching on.  "That means Talia must have sent him."

            "I guess so," Oliver replied.

            "Hmm.  I'll deal with that as it comes.  Right now you and I need to sit down and talk Oliver.  I'm headed over to Queen Consolidated to tell Mr. Steele that we need to cut our business deal short.  I'll be heading back to Gotham soon after to heal up and figure out my next move," Bruce explained. "I need to meet with you before then."

            Moving slowly Oliver looked over at the clock on his nightstand.  Sighing he said, "I can be there in an hour."

            "I'll see you in an hour then," Bruce said before the line went dead.

*1 HOUR LATER*

            Pulling up to Queen Consolidated Oliver parked in front of the building directly behind an ambulance with its emergency lights on.  Looking behind him Oliver saw a fire truck park pull up and park directly behind his bike.

            Walking over to one of the firemen as the exited the truck Oliver asked, "What's going on?  Is something wrong?"

            "Someone triggered one of the fire alarms inside your building Mr. Queen," the firefighter said recognizing Oliver.  "Your security cameras don't show any trace of smoke or fire but we are evacuating all the building personnel until we can ascertain it is indeed a false alarm.  For your safety please stay outside."

            "Okay," Oliver replied as the firefighter headed off to the entrance of Queen Consolidated where employees steadily streamed out like ants.

            "Oliver!" a voice called out from behind him.

            Turning around Oliver spotted Bruce heading toward him in a black business suit sporting a sling over his right arm.  Beside him walked Alfred.

            Walking over to the pair Oliver said, "Hey Bruce.  How's the arm? And how are you today Alfred?"

            "Master Wayne's arm is on the mend.  And I am no worse for wear too sir," Alfred replied reaching out to shake Oliver's hand.

            "What's going on?" Bruce asked nodding his head towards the stream of people exiting Queen Consolidated.

            "The fire alarm went off apparently," Oliver replied.  "One of the firefighters thinks it's just a false alarm."

            "Ah. I see," Bruce said as he looked back at Oliver.  "Since I have you here I think we need to discuss what you did last night."

            "I meant it when I said I was sorry about the arm Bruce," Oliver began to say.

            "Not that," Bruce interrupted.  "That's not important.  I meant to say what you almost did last night.  You were ready to kill Lawton."

            "Ah," Oliver said taken aback.

            "Oliver, you know I'm leaving for Gotham after this meeting," Bruce said.  "It's going to be just you and him now.  I really need you to consider your actions last night.  Is that the type of man you really want to be?  Are you really ready to kill Lawton and keep killing others like him?  It's a very dangerous path to tread Oliver."

            "Look Bruce," Oliver began to say but was once again interrupted by a voice coming from behind him.

            "Ollie! Bruce! Alfred!" Felicity Smoak called out as she walked up beside Oliver.  "What's going on?  The hot firefighter guy over there said that there might be a fire in the building somewhere?"

            "False alarm," Bruce and Oliver said in unison.

            "Okay," Felicity said laughing at their synchronized reply.  "I thought it sounded a little hinky.  There really wasn't any smoke anywhere.  OH MY GOD!  What happened to your arm Bruce?!"

            "I fell off the side of a building," Bruce said in a perfectly practiced manner.  "I was trying out this new sport called free running.  It's all the rage now.  I lost my balance and fell eight stories onto my shoulder."

            "Six," Oliver corrected him quickly.

            "Yes, well who has the time to count when they're plunging to their possible demise," Bruce said in turn.  "It's lovely to see you again Felicity.  I was just telling Oliver here how sorry I was to cut our dinner short the other night.  I do hope you'll give me the chance to make it up to you next time I visit Starling City."

            "You're leaving?" Felicity asked with a slight crest fallen expression.

            "Bruce is heading back to Gotham today," Oliver said.  "He has some pressing business to attend to.  He is just here to say his goodbyes to Walter."

            "Don't make me sound so serious in front of this beautiful lady Oliver," Bruce said as he winked at Felicity.  "The truth is I find that there is no place like home to heal after an injury."

            "Ah. Well I hope you heal quickly then and come back to visit me...I mean us," Felicity replied.

            Oliver was spared more of the uncomfortable moment as a resounding voice of a firefighter yelled, "All clear!"

            Seeing the mass of people head toward the entrance of the building Oliver looked over at Bruce and said, "Shall we?"

            "If you insist," Bruce replied.

            Grabbing Felicity's arm Bruce spun her around in front of him to move her over to his uninjured side as to give her his hand.  In doing so he placed her perfectly in the path of the bullet aimed at his heart as a loud rifle retort echoed throughout the concrete jungle.

            Watching Felicity's eyes go wide in shock and a small 'oh' escape her lips Oliver felt his entire being shatter like a piece of glass hitting the floor, just the same way she fell and laid still on the pavement.

            "Felicity!" Oliver screamed as his anguished echoed for all to hear.