Blood Hunt
Merlyn watches through his mini-binoculars as the last member of the GCPD falls unconscious in the bullpen of the police station. It had occurred to him, in the days that it took him to come up with this plan, that he could be caught, killed or incarcerated right alongside the man he'd come here to kill tonight. He'd let that thought turn over in his mind several times before he decided that he could live with that.

All he needed was a few seconds as a pointed object to end the life of the man who'd killed his sister. After that, Robert didn't care what happened. Mia would be avenged and Jane would be able to live knowing that the man called the Artist, Frank Wells,  didn't get away with murdering her best friend. Robert half-hoped that his father would show up tonight to do the same thing, to find this man and end his life. It might restore a measure of his respect for the Green Arrow, Oliver Queen.

There wasn't time to think about that right now. Merlyn fires a swing-line over to the the rooftop of the GCPD building and heads for the rooftop access. His eyes glace over the curiously shaped spotlight with the odd signal before discounting it as a non-threat. He's heard of Batman, but he's not afraid of him. If Batman were doing his job, Mia wouldn't be dead right now.

Heads down the staircase, going down one floor, two floors, then three floors, and heading toward the security room. He opens the door and quickly fires a taser arrow at the man on duty. The officer crumples and Robert goes to work shutting down the security cameras in the holding area, but not before looking to find out which cell Wells was in. According to the cameras, they had him in a solitary cell away from the rest of the inmates. Robert looked up at photocopied map on the wall next to the monitors and figured out his position in relation to the cell area the Artist is being held in.

Soon enough, he moves on, closing the door to the room behind him.

Minutes later, Merlyn glides down a set of concrete stairs with his bow drawn, coming around a corner to face two more cops. They both look at him in shock, hands going for their weapons in what must be record time for cops. Against nearly anyone else, they'd have the edge.

Against Merlyn, they were beaten the moment he saw them. His bow whispers as two more taser arrows take flight, dropping both men to the ground, unconscious. Merlyn puts his bow back over his shoulder for a moment to find a key to the door. The officer in question has a keycard, which Merlyn slides through the electronic lock to open the door.

The place might as well have been a basement, for all the scents of dust and faint mold that assaulted Merlyn's nostrils. He drew his bow again, nocking an arrow. The light down here was good enough to shoot by, and Robert could probably have shot the man down and walked right out, but he had to know if this was the same man that he'd encountered in Hong Kong two years ago.

Back then, someone else was looking for him too. Robert had to know if this was the same man they'd failed to kill before.

Closing the distance between the entrance to the holding area and the Artist's cell, Merlyn lines up his shot. Frank Wells looks up...and smiles at him.

"You aren't who I expected, but I remember you. I don't think you want to shoot me, though. Last archer that tried that ended up with her own arrow in her chest, drowning in Gotham Harbor. The only thing I'm sad about is that I couldn't pose that wonderful body of hers. I missed out on a masterpiece with that one." the Artist smirks.