To the casual observer, Connor Hawke’s Zen-like state of being would seem to be a great asset as well as something to be admired. These are the people that did not see the new Green Arrow three seconds before a major bomb went off in the upper floor of an apartment building in Star City.
He smashed through the window prepared to save this woman for the second time in a night, only to find her dashing out the front door, away from a police officer in the process of attacking her. He rolled across the floor and sprinted up after her, but stopped just short of the front door when hands grabbed at the bow slung over his shoulder.
Without a second thought, he shrugged out of the bow; his first instinct was never get caught. After he had released himself, he swung around only to find himself kicked in the chest by the officer that had been hurting the girl. The kick sent him flying out the doorway. Before he could get back up, the apartment door was slammed shut. There was a sudden blast from inside that tore the door off its hinges and struck him square in the face. Connor blacked out instantly.
It wasn’t the heat or the smoke that brought him around again, but the sensation of being carried down a flight of stairs. He opened his eyes to find an African-American woman quickly moving down the emergency staircase of the apartment building, as he was slung over her back in a fireman's carry.
They had just reached the bottom when she realized he had come around. She laid him down in the staircase, allowed him to catch his bearings for a second. He could hear the sirens coming closer to the building.
“Who are you?” he asked her as he stood up.
“You can call me Desiree Johnson,” she answered. “You’re lucky to be alive, kid. I suggest we get the hell out of here before we’re found.”
He heard the rapid footsteps of other tenants as they made their way to safety. He nodded in agreement and the two of them dashed out the emergency exit, through the alley, then crossed a somewhat desolate street, and finally into the next alley over before they stopped running.
She caught her breath, and eyed the new Green Arrow suspiciously as he stood their watching her. He didn’t seem out of breath at all –
that irritated her.
“What the hell do you think you were doing?” she asked as her breathing became steady again.
“Trying to save the girl from that cop – did she make it out?”
“Yeah, but that cop didn’t. He’s toast, and so is your bow.”
“He was beating on her...” he began to explain but she raised a hand to stop him.
“No, he wasn’t. He was trying to get her out of the apartment before the bomb went off.”
Connor was caught speechless at this revelation. “But... I saw...”
“Not what you thought you saw. That cop was my partner; we’d been trailing that girl for over a month.”
“Your partner?”
“That’s what I said. Tom must have got you out too, just in time. Son of a bitch went out a real hero. Not that it’s going to make much of a difference for his wife and kids.”
She turned away from him, as she tried to walk off the emotional pain that she now felt.
“I’m... I’m very sorry.” It was the only thing that Green Arrow could manage. He was still trying to reconcile what he thought had went down with the truth.
Desiree waved her hand in the air to acknowledge him. “Yeah, well, Tom always said he would be the one to run in where fools feared to tread.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, why were you following her? If you knew she was in danger, why didn’t you stop her from going into the apartment building?”
“Why we were following her is none of your business. I was trying to get to her when I got sidetracked by some teen girl who was being accosted by one of Star City's actual 'finest'. Pretty little blond thing, looked like she needed help. By the time I got to the building, my partner had already arrived. He took the lead while I set up outside in case there was a second attack. Neither of us knew exactly what was going down.”
“Who did this?” he asked.
“That’s privileged, kid... sorry.”
Connor stepped forward. “I can help you,” he pressed. “It’s why I’m here.”
She turned, studying his face for a second. “My superiors would kill me if they knew I was even thinking about this. Alright, meet me on the roof of the Wayne Enterprises building tomorrow night, twelve-thirty. Maybe you can help. God knows we haven’t been successful so far.”
“I’ll be there,” he stated.
*******
Sweat poured down the small man’s face as he looked up at the towering boss of a man who had just been given the bad news.
“She’s still alive?” Daniel Brickwell asked again, his voice quieter than the first time.
“Some cop went in after her, then some kid with a bow and arrow followed. I think they were both killed in the blast, though.” The lackey wished he was anywhere else, delivering any other news to anyone else at that moment.
Brick’s eyes narrowed. “So she’s still alive but you managed to kill a cop and Green Arrow's new partner? That... Golden Arrow punk?”
No longer able to speak, the messenger just nodded. He watched as one of the largest crime bosses in the city mulled the situation over. Then he casually reached over, scooping up the small man in his overly large hand before snapping him in two as casually as one would snap a twig.
He dropped him before stepping over the moaning body on the floor. “I allowed you to live because of the elimination of a cop and a vigilante. Fail me again and I won’t be so generous.”
The crippled man did his best to give his boss a thumbs up of understanding before he blacked out from the pain.
“Terri’s still out there, the cops are watching her, and Scarapelli would kill to get his hands on her. As much as I detest the idea of getting my hands dirty, I may have to get involved directly. Who’s that assassin with the bow and arrow that was in town not to long ago? Not the skirt, the other one?” Brickwell asked his assistant who had been standing behind him the entire time.
“Uh... Marvin? No, no, it’s um... Merlyn I think.”
“Whoever it is, find him. I think it’s time we called in some professional help with Scarapelli. In the meantime, I’ll take care of Terri myself. Probably should have been that way from the start. I’m the one she betrayed.”
*******
Connor Hawke woke to the smell of fresh pancakes. Since he had moved to America, he had tried many different cuisines and dishes; all were good, but none so amazingly tasty as a stack of pancakes smothered in maple syrup.
Stumbling out of his bed, he dragged himself down the hallway. His body ached from the punishment it had taken the night before. His father had failed to inform him that surviving a bomb blast would be so hard on the body.
He entered the small kitchen of his apartment, shared with Mia Dearden, where he found her grumbling to herself, flour all over the floor and counter top. The kitchen looked as if it had been struck by a rabid Paula Dean. Food Network was a recent guilty pleasure that he had told no one about.
Mia turned when she hear him enter the room. Her face white with powder and possibly some dried egg. She gave him a cold look which stopped him in his tracks.
“Have I offended you already?” he asked her cautiously.
Her lips pursed. “Just sit down and enjoy breakfast. Even if you don’t like it, you better have the common decency to lie to me.”
Saying no more, he sat down quickly, poured the syrup and began to eat vigorously as she watched. The spatula in her hand suddenly seemed like a dangerous weapon to him. It took him only two bites to realize that he was going to have trouble swallowing it. Not only were they barely edible, but they were so thick that he was desperately wishing he had grabbed a bottle of water before he had sat down. Now he was afraid if he attempted to drink anything, she would take it as an insult.
“Well...?” she finally asked.
Still chewing, he smiled broadly, nodded his head enthusiastically while giving her a circled index finger and thumb, to signal the okay. His response was all she needed to lighten up, turn back to finish pouring batter onto the skillet. It gave him just enough time to spit out what he had into his napkin.
“So how was your night?” she asked.
“Not in the realm of my typical patrol,” he replied, his attention divided between the conversation and his consideration of what to do with the remaining pancakes. “Saved some woman from a street thug, turned out she was just as scared of me. She seemed haunted, so I followed her back to her apartment...” He continued his night’s events as Mia sat down across from him, listening intently.
When he was finished, he asked her a question without a change to his expression.. “So how do you know this Desiree Johnson?”
Mia was taken aback. “What are you talking about?”
“I mentioned her name, described her, your body language shifted just enough to inform me that you knew who I was talking about. I’m curious on how you know this woman?”
She looked at him with a mix of shock and awe. He watched her contemplate several responses but was pleased when she finally came to the realization that the truth was going to be revealed eventually anyway.
So she told him of her own adventure that night; the grumpy cop who was about to bust her and Desiree’s sudden rescue. “But I thought she was a hooker,” she finished, hoping to keep the conversation away from the obvious fact that she had disobeyed his order to stay in the apartment after dark.
“An obvious facade, to walk the streets after dark and not be identified,” he said as he pushed the pancakes around the plate. “I’ll learn more tonight... I hope.”
“I better get ready for school,” Mia said quickly as she rose from the table. “Finish your pancakes before you turn in.”
“Hold up for a moment,” he called to her as she tried to make her escape from the room. Her face when she turned around revealed that she knew what was coming next. “There’s still the matter of you leaving after dark.”
She began to explain her restlessness but he stopped her. “I’m not happy, but I understand, Mia. It can’t be easy for you. I know the nights have got to be lonely; I know you’re still hurting over your father’s death. The fact that you are struggling on, going to school, keeping your grades up, it shows me that you’re heart is in the right place. So I may be disappointed in your choice, but I can also understand it.”
His speech wasn’t making her feel any better. If anything, she now felt more guilt than before. He really had a knack for doing that to her. “It won’t happen again,” she promised.
“I know you’re sincere in that promise, but I also think it might be a promise that you won’t be able to keep. Perhaps if you had someone here to keep you company in the evenings. Do you think that might help?”
Mia stepped further into the room. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ve got to go into the office for a few hours this afternoon, just to make sure that everything is running smoothly, but meet me here right after work and we’ll take a trip down to the animal shelter. Maybe a puppy is exactly what is needed around here.”
Connor was not prepared for the burst of joy, followed by the embrace that she gave him after running to him. His face grew a deep red rather quickly. “Yes, well, get ready for school. You wouldn’t want to be late.”
After she had run off, he looked back down at the inedible breakfast. He decided the dog would no doubt help both of them out in the long run.
*******
Connor Hawke did not believe in coincidence. He did, however, believe in Fate. So when he and Mia were on their way home from the pound, a light brown Jack Russell in Mia’s arms, and he glanced across the busy street to see the girl he had been following the night before slip into a small bakery, he knew his moment was at hand.
“Take the puppy right home,” he told Mia as he looked around for a place to change.
“But you don’t have your spare bow with you,” a concerned Mia reminded him.
Connor glanced at her with a look of admonishment. “What have I been trying to teach you for the past few weeks?”
“That the most important weapon you have is your body,” she recited. “Be careful.” She quickly gave him a peck on the cheek – surprising him for the second time that day, before she headed back to the apartment.
He quickly ducked away from the bustling sidewalk, into the back alley where he glanced around quickly before changing into his uniform. He had barely slipped on his mask when he heard the sound of gunfire coming from across the street. His heart raced as he sprang into action.
The street was packed with cars that zipped in both directions, but the newest Green Arrow handled them deftly; jumped onto one, over to another, landed on the back of a third before he dove off to land on the opposite sidewalk. Two more shots rang out from the bakery before him, followed by a loud crash as the owner of the bakery flew through the large glass front.
He ran inside and immediately discovered two other workers, bleeding from gunshot wounds. The swinging doors to the kitchen in the back had been ripped off their hinges. He heard a noise behind him and swung around to see a teen-aged boy at the doorway, mouth agape.
“Call an ambulance, and the police!” he shouted as he followed the trail of destruction into the back room.
Pots and pans were strewn all over the floor, but what shocked Connor the most was the large industrial refrigerator had been thrown clear across the room. In the far corner, he saw the woman he was after. She cowered in the corner, her face filled with terror while she looked up at the hulking figure towering above her.
“Get away from her!” Hawke shouted, wishing he had his father’s ability to throw some kind of one-liner out at that moment. He felt as though the moment needed it, but it wasn’t really his forte’.
The man in the white business suit turned to study him for a second. The man’s face and hands seemed to be deformed somehow; giving off the appearance of some kind of brick.
“They told me you were dead, kid. Too bad for you. Dying in an explosion would have been a lot less painful,” the huge man said as he picked up a large metal table and flung it at Connor.
It was easy enough for Connor to dodge a table and he did so in one fluid motion at the same time he grabbing a large two pronged meat fork that lay nearby. His aim was true as he threw it at the man’s left shoulder. It pierced the white jacket but shattered upon contact with the guy’s skin.
Daniel Brickwell looked down at the rip in his Armani suit. “Aw hell no! You didn’t just do that?”
“It’s quite apparent that I did,” Green Arrow replied.
“This suit cost me over ten gees, buddy. You’ve really got my attention now. I’m going to take a lot of pleasure ripping you a new @$$hole!” He charged after the young hero.
Connor was surprised at the agility of the large man. He dove to the right, but not quick enough as Brick’s arm shot out and clasped his hand around Green Arrow’s ankle. “You’ve got no idea who you’re dealing with, punk.”
Twisting himself around quickly, he struck Brick in the face with his other foot. Pain shot up into his leg and he cried out in spite of himself.
Brick laughed as he raised Green Arrow’s body up over his head and brought it down hard onto the preparation table. Connor was sure he heard a couple of ribs crack. Brick raised the body again, then slammed him down a second time, even harder. Connor closed his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the pain that was being inflicted.
As his body was being lifted for the third time, he caught sight of the large pan sitting on the corner of the table, the steam still rolling from it. His hand shot out quickly, just barely grabbing the metal handle. He ignored the searing pain in his hand as his body flew up and he flung the pan into Brick’s face.
The mob boss screamed in shock and pain. Green Arrow was dropped as his hands went to his eyes. He staggered backward, screaming profanity.
Connor's ankle was twisted, his chest screaming in so much pain he couldn't ignore it any longer. He had lost sight of the girl, but self-preservation was winning out. He had to get out of there, before this monster of a man recovered. Retreat was the only logical option.
Connor stumbled out of the bakery door to the sounds of Brick’s rampage as it echoed from the back room, and made it out to the bright street where gawkers started to gather. He had made a horrible mistake and now there were hundreds of people witnessing it. A sharp pain shot through his chest. He began to cough, blood spilling from his mouth. It was almost in detached fascination that he realized he may be leaving this plane of existence. It was his last thought before he collapsed in the bright sunlight of Star City.
*******
When the world came back to him, Connor found himself on a bed in what could only be a third-rate motel. The walls were covered with film that seemed decades old.
Still in pain, he looked around the room to find two people whispering in the corner. One was the woman he was to meet later that night, the other was a heavy set cop, his cloths rumpled. They turned to see that he was awake and walked up to him.
“Don’t move, you’ve got internal injuries. We’ve got transportation heading this way to pick us up. We’ll get you help, I promise.”
Still groggy, the room beginning to spin again, he whispered, “Who are you?”
The woman who had called herself Desiree Johnson leaned toward him, an identification badge appearing before his eyes. “My name is Amara Hunter – special agent for the Department of Extranormal Operations.”
Then everything faded to black.
To Be Continued[/b]
