The Star City Screw-Job
"Slade Wilson, you're under arrest for the attempted murder of Roy Harper and the murder of another man. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney..."
the police officer says, clamping the cuffs on his wrist tighter than necessary. Slade barely registers the pain as his head is still thick with cobwebs.
He'd killed that assassin, but not before the bastard could got a bead on Harper and took the shot.
Slade was in Star City only because he'd received an anonymous tip that the League of Assassins had taken a contract on Green Arrow's adopted kid. If Roy had been anyone else, or if the contract had been taken by anyone else, Slade wouldn't have given two hells about Harper's fate. But once Slade learned the target's name and who'd supplied the killer, he knew he had to spring into action.
What the hell are you thinking, Damien? You kill this guy and Oliver Queen will suit up one last time looking for revenge. And then I'll have to kill him to keep him from killing you. Slade loves his son, arrogant bastard that he is, but killing the Green Arrow's adopted kid is basically inviting Queen and all of his kids into open warfare with the League, which Damien couldn't afford right now. So, he'd suited up and decided to go keep Roy Harper alive long enough to wave it in Oliver's face and use it as a bargaining chip in the future.
Only, when Deathstroke found the assassin on a lonely rooftop overlooking a small restaurant in the Triangle, he realized too late exactly what was
really happening.
First, the gunman was dressed in a leather coat, blue jeans, black shirt and black boots. Second, the gunman had already taken the shot with a sniper rifle that matched the exactly specifications of the one that Deathstroke favored on his own jobs. That was the big alarm bell.
Rather than let the guy get away from him, Slade tried to tackle him in order to find out who'd put him up to the hit. He'd counted on the guy to resist and planned for that. What he didn't plan for was that the gunman also hadn't expected to live past the assassination. Both men went over the side of the roof, crash-landing in the alley below. Slade blacked out for what only seemed like a minute or two, but by the time he opened his eyes, he was trapped in a ring of riot cops with tasers and a crowd of gawkers and reporters.
Soon enough, he was on his way to the Star City P.D. lockup, awaiting transfer to Super-Max for his arraignment.
Once the pain and embarrassment died down, Deathstroke realized this whole thing was a set-up. That assassin wasn't League, but they knew somehow knew that Slade would come here if it meant keeping Damien out of harm's way. They didn't even have to know who they'd targeted. Slade knew that once Queen could find him, he'd be at a distinct disadvantage in defending himself. The problem was, Slade also couldn't contact Damien without bringing the League into this, which was what he'd been trying to avoid.
The only other person he could have called was dead now, which was also Damien's fault, ironically.
When Slade was allowed his one call, he made it good.
"I just hit the Wall. Check your messages and see if you can get in touch with my lawyer, mate." he said, then hung up.
Now, he just had to survive long enough for the actual rescue.
