Green Arrow #4
Dream Quest - Part Four
Steeple Chase
By
If you know me at all, then you know that there’s a lot of beef I could have with the way Oliver Queen raised me. But one of the things I have to thank him for the most is the simple joy of action. I mean, let’s be honest, right? Now-a-days, most people consider getting up to find the remote to the TV exercise. It’s rare to find someone who’d rather walk a block to the grocery store down the street, rather than just drive there. And yet, because of the life good old Ol’ introduced me too, I’ve found myself doing things every single day that would be considered patented suicide by 99.9% of the world’s population.
I could feel my muscles bitching like a two-year-old at bedtime, and believe me, I can still remember what that’s like, but it only made me push all the harder. Nightwing was only a couple of feet ahead of me as we raced across the concrete roof and I drove myself to close the distance between us. We were almost neck and neck by the time we hit the roof’s edge.
The next building was a full story bellow the one we were on, but neither of us paused, we didn’t even so much as break stride as we launched ourselves into the air. There’s no way to explain what it’s like, hanging there suspended between the dark streets below and the night sky above. I hung there for an immeasurable instant, and then gravity reached up to snatch me down. I hit with both feet when I landed, my knees bending to cushion the sudden impact. Then, I was rolling forward with the excess momentum and when I came up I was running, never missing a beat.
Even as I took that first step, something made me turn around- I don’t know if it was a shadow, a sound, or some hint of motion I caught out of the corner of my eye, but when I looked up, I saw Dick Grayson flying.
I’ve spent a lot of time around people who could fly, I mean really fly, like Superman, Wonder Woman, or even that one oreo-munching-mind-reading-green-assed-martian-guy. Nightwing was about as close as you could get to flying without having super powers. He floated through the air, his body spun, tumbled, twisted and contorted. It was like watching dandelion fluff float through the breeze, but with a grace and direction inspired by a singular talent and indomitable will. When his feet finally touched the ground, he was ten feet in front of me. He even paused long enough to toss me a wave before he took off running again.
Even as I hurried to catch up, I heard Dinah land at my right and Connor to my left. After the awkwardness of their last meeting, Dinah and Connor had remained distant and silent. Neither one even so much as looked in the direction of the other. There was a hostility there that could only exist between people who cared for each other deeply. Dinah’s silence was filled with a mixture of anger and anguish. She was furious at Connor for trying to convince her Ollie wasn’t dead, she felt guilty for having hurt him, she was mad at herself for feeling guilty, and so, she was doubly angry that Connor had gotten her mad at herself.
Connor, for his part, just kept quiet and tried to avoid Dinah at all cost. I think that that was probably a smart decision. Even with his bum leg, Connor was keeping up fairly well. I could see the pain written clearly on his face, but he refused to be a burden, or be left behind. When Nightwing’s com-signal had gone off we were all pretty much just happy for the distraction.
While Dick and I were running with something akin to childish glee, Dinah and Connor ran with a grim determination. None of us were slouches when it came to acrobatics, or agility, but this was Nightwing’s world and we were all just earth bound visitors trying to keep up.
Up ahead Dick suddenly turned left and began to pick up speed. I grinned with an almost maniacal glee when I realized our new course was going to take us across a side street. Crossing the street can be dangerous enough when you’re a normal pedestrian at ground level, but when your taking the ‘rooftop express’ it’s at least a bazillion times more fun.
I’d been having a friend of mine work on some new toys for me, and this looked like the perfect time to take them out and play. Without breaking stride, I unclipped one of the holsters at my hip and withdrew one of my new collapsible goodies. It was only a foot and a half long when I first took it out, but with the push of a button it expanded into a 3-foot recurved short-bow.
I heard Dinah curse behind me as she saw Nightwing leap from the building. A split second later there came the whizzing sound of his 'Nightwing-a-rang' as it flew across the distance between him and the buildings across the street. A heartbeat later and we could see him swinging along the de-cel cable to a rooftop across from us.
Never slowing down, I was right behind him. As I stepped to the ledge my eyes were searching for the best target, even as my hand reached for one of the special arrows in the quiver at my back. I leapt into the air as I notched the arrow and drew back. There was a moment of stillness, that split second of weightlessness before inertia surrendered and gravity claimed me once again. My mind was wiped clean and my world narrowed to the target I’d selected-- a stone gargoyle on top of a six-story-building to my left. For an instant that seemed to stretch forever, I hung there, focused on my target. Then I began to drop, and I released my breath, sending the arrow flying at the only time, to the only place that could keep me from becoming an unbelievably handsome red stain on the concrete below.
There was a twang, as the arrow left the string and then the whizzing sound of my cable spooling out behind it. The other end of the cable was attached to a reel at my belt. The cable was designed to catch the body as it fell, it had enough give and elasticity to ‘de-accelerate’ the fall, absorbing the kinetic shock and then snapping back, like a bungee cord. My belt was reinforced and especially designed to support my weight, as I was suspended from the cable.
As I leapt from the building, I’d angled my jump to the right. Holding my short-bow in my left hand, I grabbed a hold of the cable in my right, my gloves had a steel mesh woven into them-- they could help deflect sword blows, and were more than proof against rope burn. As soon as my hand grabbed the cable, it stopped spooling from my belt. At the apex of my swing, the cable lost all slack and was drawn taunt, then the elasticity of the cable drew me in, back towards the left, where it was still anchored to the gargoyle. And I made a swooping arch above the street below, landing easily next to Nightwing as he stood waiting on the rooftop.
With a press of a button on my belt and a flick of the wrist, the cable detached from the arrow and was reeled, whizzing, back into my belt. Turning, Dick and I stared across the street at Dinah and Connor, neither of whom had the tools necessary to make the jump across. Grinning like school kids, we both raised our hands and waved.
"How long do you think it’ll take them to get down here, Roy?" Dick asked me, laughter in his voice.
"Oh, I dunno, maybe 10, 15 minutes at the most."
"Do you think Dinah’s gonna be mad?"
I glanced over at Nightwing, he had the look of a kid who’d just had a lot of fun, but was now trying to figure out if his parents were gonna yell at him because of it, "Well, if she is, Boy Wonder, this was all your idea!"
"My idea?!?! Hey, no way are you pinning this on me."
"So, uh, what was it that set off your little bat-vibrator and brought us here to investigate?" I said changing the subject before he could finish.
"dammit Roy, don’t change the subject! There is no way that you’re..." Dick paused as he finally caught the teasing smirk on my face. He maybe the ‘World’s Greatest Detective, in training’, but he’s not always that fastest on the up take.
He shook his head with a sigh and gave me that boyish pout of his that seems to melt the hearts of all the ladies, it quickly became a sheepish grin though and he turned, gesturing behind us, "It’s over this way."
He led the way to the other side of the building and crouched down before looking over the side. He studied the scene for a few moments, his hand going up to his domino mask on occasion, adjusting the starlight and telescopic lenses that come standard in all Bat-folk incorporated costumes. Finally he motioned me over to come take a look.
The rooftop overlooked the rear parking facility for the building next door. The lot was surrounded by a nine-foot-high fence, topped with barbed-wire. None of the streetlights were on and the place was mostly deserted. There were only two vehicles occupying the area. But, those two limos sported quiet a crowd.
There were two distinct groups, each one surrounding their own respective limousine. The first group looked like something straight out of The Sopranos. There were at least half a dozen mooks and guidos standing around with submachine guns and bad attitudes. There were also a couple of old men dressed in pin-striped business suits standing in the middle of the small army.
The second group didn’t look much friendlier. Actually, it looked like Chucky Cheese gone bad. There were another half dozen armed guards, this time all of them wearing various party masks. And one big guy in the middle, dressed in his own pin-striped suit, a black mask worn over his features, and a cigar protruding from his mouth.
"Hey, isn’t that what’s-his-name, uh, Ugly-Mask, or something? What’s he doing meeting with Big Pussy and the crew?" I asked Nightwing, in hushed tones.
"His name’s Black Mask, Arsenal," Nightwing whispered back. Dick always called people by their ‘code names’ once he entered ‘official crime fighter mode’.
"And I don’t know why he’s meeting with the heads of the Bludhaven Mafia families. I think it might have something to do with the rash of ‘crime murders’ over the last few months."
"’Crime murders’?" I asked, "Aren’t all murders kinda criminal?"
"Don’t be difficult, Arsenal," Nightwing sighed, "I mean the murders of some of organized crimes most powerful leaders," Dick paused to glance at my uncomprehending expressions, "For crying out loud, Roy! You do read the paper don’t you?"
"um..."
"No," Nightwing interrupted. "Before you even ask, the funnies do not count!"
"For your information, Mr. ‘I-Think-I-Know-Everything-Because-Batman-Let-Me-Upgrade-My-Uniform-To-Tights, I was going to say that I read the Sport section too. And sometimes the matinee," I added, sticking out my tongue.
"Jesus, and you two fight crime?" We both turned to find the Black Canary staring down at us with the exasperated look of an overworked mother who just found her two kids chock full of sugar and watching R-Rated movies on HBO.
"Hi, Dinah," I said flashing her a grin and a wave. "Boy, you guys got up here pretty quick." I trailed off when I noticed that Connor still hadn’t shown up.
"Um, Dinah? Where’s Green Arrow at?" Nightwing asked, a hint of concern tinting his voice. Dinah’s only answer was to cross her arms and give us her coldest glare.
"Oh, Jesus, Dinah! You didn’t kill him did you!? Where’d you hide the body?"
"Shut up, Roy," Nightwing snapped.
"It’s alright, guys, I’m over here," Connor said, as he pulled himself over the ledge of the roof, "My leg just slowed me down a little bit is all."
Despite my flippancy, I still breathed a sigh of relief to see Connor unhurt. I didn’t really think Dinah would kill him. She might beat the living tar out of him again. But, kill him, no.
Nightwing and I moved back from the edge of the roof, gesturing to Dinah and Connor to group up. Nightwing began explaining the situation below, but I noticed that Connor’s attention was elsewhere. He seemed to be staring at something on the rooftop across from us.
I was just about to turn and check out what he was looking at when I saw him gesture low with his right hand. For some reason, he didn’t want me to turn. Nightwing saw it to, no matter how much I rib the guy, he is a world class detective and there’s very little that gets by him. Dick just kept on talking, acting like nothing was going on. Meanwhile, I made eye contact with Dinah, then signaled for her to look at Connor. She furrowed her brows for a bit, but she could tell I was serious.
While Nightwing kept talking, we all looked down at Connor’s hands. He kept them low to the ground, so that only we four could see. Holding up one finger, he pointed to the opposing roof, indicating that he’d seen someone on the far rooftop overlooking the parking lot.
I was trying to figure out how to ask him for some more details when his eyes widened and he started up to his feet. The rest of us turned around in time to see an all-too-familiar-figure take a running leap off of the far roof.
Deathstroke was on the poor mooks before they even knew what was going on. Black Mask and his goons were backing away, their guns leveled and aimed, but none of them firing. The Italians were screaming something about a double cross, and I could understand why, though I didn’t really think that that was what was going on. I figured Black Mask and his boys could see that Deathstroke was only after the Mafioso and they didn’t want to get involved. It doesn’t matter how much of a bad ass you are, you don’t pick fights with super powered assassins if you don’t have to.
The guidos didn’t have that option though. Their firearms lit up the darkness like roman candle fights on the forth of July. It didn’t matter, what they tried though, Deathstroke tore through them like Lian through a toy store, which, by the way, is not a sight recommended for those with a weak constitution. Deathstroke’s staff was spinning, knocking aside firearms and spitting those deadly arcs of energy beams, even as he wove his way through the Mafia bodyguards.
The last mook fell, even as we finally began to move. The whole fight, if you could call it that, took all of four heartbeats. Deathstroke was turning to the two old mob bosses, and there was no way we’d be able to stop him before he reduced them to nothing more than charred corpses.
And that’s when the hail of green arrows started to fall.
Next Issue: Deathstroke? The Mafia? Assassins killing crooks? A hail of green arrows falling from the sky? Could it possibly be? Join us next issue as the prelude ends and Connor’s quest truly begins.