GREEN ARROW #29: One Year and Two Days, part 1"

In one of the largest cities on the West Coast, at the corner of Fifth Street and Avenue C stands a small vendor cart. It has stood there every day for the last fourteen years, run by the same man who never missed a day of work. Monday through Friday from ten to five and Saturdays ten to three. The people who live in the area have gotten to know him as Donnie. He is the self-proclaimed ”King of the Pretzel Vendors” in Star City and anybody who tries one would readily agree.

He takes pride in his job, his children, his wife and his home. He grew up in this neighborhood and he takes pride in that too. He used to take pride in the city itself, but lately he can barely stomach it. It is no longer the city he knew but now a punch-line for every late night talk show host. It is the city that even Detroit is thankful not to be. Still, he has faith that it will come back. Until then he works his job, goes home to his wife and his two girls; takes them to the zoo on Saturdays and church on Sundays. People that know him consider him one of the good guys in a city gone bad.

When the bomb went off on the corner of Fifth St and Avenue C, Donnie's life ended. In forty-five minutes his wife would be informed that she was now a widow just two days before her fortieth birthday. The press would later report that the bomb that destroyed the Japanese dining establishment was another gangland strike against the Yakuza. The SCPD would have no comment. Just another day in the new normal that is Star City.




The Lincoln Town Car pulled up to the front of Tommy’s at quarter to one on Saturday morning, as usual. The front license plate read TOMMY1 and the crowd that stood around the side door to Star City’s most popular night club began to cheer. Their hero had arrived.

The driver, a young man in his early twenties with long raven black hair pulled back from his tanned face into a well groomed ponytail, stepped out first and opened the rear passenger door; his Prada sunglasses wrapped around his face like they had been designed especially for him. Though his head stayed perfectly still there was no doubt that his eyes were everywhere at once.

As the tall, olive-skinned young man stepped out , the crowd erupted into overdrive as men and women of all ages began to shout his name, begging him to turn their way and acknowledge them.

“Over here, Tommy!”

“Hey! My old lady loves ya, man!”

Tommy Scarapelli waved to the crowd while the six-foot platinum blonde stepped out after him, then immediately wrapped her arms around his. It was his drape of the evening and it made him smile. Since his father, Anthony Scarapelli, announced his candidacy for Mayor of Star City, Tommy had become something of a celebrity himself.

The sensation nodded to his driver, whispered something quickly into the man’s ear before entering his own club for another night of hobnobbing with businessmen and politicians, along with local and national celebrities. In a city that had become synonymous with corruption and crime, Tommy Scarapelli’s namesake nightclub was something of beacon for the rich, the famous, but moreso - the infamous.

As soon as the door opened for them, the bass beat pounded out and down the street with the noise of the crowd following close behind. The driver, Tommy and his latest arm candy strutted in, and like Moses at the Red Sea, the crowd parted immediately. The three of them began to cross the dancefloor; all made way for the Prince of Star City, as he had been dubbed.

What happened next would go down in the history of Star City as “The Shooting Star Murder”. History would say that on that early fall night, at the exact moment that the Star City’s Prince was shot twice, two shooting stars streaked across the city skyline. The superstitious ones would say it was an omen; a sign of the turning point for Star City. Others would say it was nothing more than coincidence. Both sides would agree that it was the beginning of the bloodiest three months in Star City history.

The first arrow penetrated his throat, the second directly into the heart. The shot was so precise that the autopsy would show that no bone was nicked by the arrow-head. The young man was dead before his body hit the floor. His driver grabbed for him but it was too late. Tommy struck the ground as his driver searched around for the shooter while the Prince’s palace broke into chaos.

The girl of the night let go of her date, her screams piercing through all the others. The driver grabbed her and pulled her to the floor. His eyes continued to scan the room but there were too many people, too much movement. He gave up the search and focused on his boss. Two arrows, one in the throat, the other in the heart and he suddenly realized with a shudder that the wrath of Anthony Scarapelli was about to be unleashed.



“Play it again!” Star City’s Commissioner Michael Todd barked as he leaned closer to monitor.

His men groaned quietly to protest yet another viewing of the raw footage from last year’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. They watched a battle between the young Green Arrow and the man later identified as the assassin Merlyn. They appeared two-thirds through the parade and were caught on film by several amateur videographers.

At first everyone thought it was part of the event when the two of them came crashing out an office window to land on top of the Superman float but the sudden explosion from their entrance point sent everyone on the streets running away in terror. One young cameraman stayed and filmed the last few minutes of the young Green Arrow’s life. Though the air was already thick with dust and falling debris, the video showed the first of Merlyn’s arrows striking the hero squarely in the chest, then the second one punching his stomach before he plummeted to the ground.

“Freeze!” Commissioner Todd shouted.

They all stared at the frozen image of Green Arrow slamming into the North River. The body would be eventually be dredged out by the SCPD, then identified by a man claiming to be the older Green Arrow, despite being missing himself before and after this incident.

“I’m not seeing it, boss,” a junior detective said. “What is it you’re looking for, anyway?”

“In the top right corner you can still see the left boot of this Merlyn freak. Now move it a few frames forward and the balloon is still in the shot but the boot is gone. Not once do you see it start to move out of the frame, it just simply vanishes.”

“And we’re worried about the answer to this… why?” another cop asked.

Todd swung around on them, his thin, narrow face glowing beet red. “Because that guy is still in this town, gentlemen and we need to find him fast! Anthony Scarapelli’s son was murdered tonight and the word on the street is that it was a retaliation hit for bombing that Yakuza joint a week back.. The kid was murdered with a bow and now I’m hearing that this Merlyn guy might be one of Scarapelli’s hired guns. If so, he might be making an appearance real soon. And I want that son of a bitch for the second Arrow's murder!”

There was silence at that. The public death of Green Arrow was just as raw to them as the footage. Even the officers that were not real thrilled with costumed vigilantes had had a hard time with that tragedy. Green Arrow was Star City’s protector come rain or shine and the people of the city could always depend on that. Until that fateful Thanksgiving morning a year ago. They wanted Merlyn as bad as the Commissioner did.

“We’ll get him, Sir!” the female officer sitting in the front row stated.

The Commissioner looked at their newest officer. Five months on the force and this newbie had already collared more scum than the five oldest veterans put together. “Make it happen, Spencer, and there very well could be a promotion in it for you.”

Officer Kate Spencer nodded her understanding.



Mayoral candidate Tai Lee opened the double doors in his study and stepped out onto his terrace that overlooked Adams Park. The newest poll numbers showed that he now claimed the number two spot in the campaign. This pleased him. However, Scarapelli’s numbers were still the best of the bunch. Perhaps his sudden loss would make him change his mind and withdraw from the race. Or perhaps another tragedy should befall the family.

He felt the sudden breeze behind him and smiled. She always appeared just when he needed her. Was she a psychic? He wondered, not for the first time.

“Who?”

“His daughter, make it look like a suicide.”

Shado bristled. “I am an assassin. I do not do… suicides.”

“You do what I tell you to do if we want complete control of Star City,” he snapped at her.

She moved like a blur and shoved Tai into the wall. Her right hand held his neck, her left hovered in front of his face, index and middle fingers nearly touching his eyes. “You are not in charge here, Mr. Lee, lest you have forgotten. The Yakuza own you now. I have been told not to kill you, Mr. Lee, but they did not say I could not maim you. Perhaps your rating will go up if you become a blind candidate?”

He lowered his eyes and she let him go. She waited for him to regain his composure before she continued. “His daughter will not be killed. His wife, on the other hand...” she trailed off ominously.. “The Yakuza no longer kill, nor even hurt, the children of our enemies.”

“Am I ever going to meet this great leader? Do I get see the face of the man who has been blackmailing me for the past year?”

“When you win the race, the oyabun will personally be here to oversee the Yakuza’s new home. If you lose the election… he will still be coming here...”

Lee nodded in understanding. “Kill the wife.”

Her eyebrow arched.

“Please!” he added quickly.



Anthony Scarapelli’s men could hear his wife’s wailing from the other side of his estate. None of them moved as they watched their boss process the terrible news handed to him.

He sat with his chair turned away from them all. Later they all agreed that they never heard him even choke back a sob. He sat emotionless and motionless. Still, they all held their breaths, waiting for him to explode. After five long, agonizing minutes, Anthony turned his chair back around and looked at his favorite capo, Benito Costello, the man charged with keeping his son safe.

“Where were you?” he asked quietly.

“He told me to go home, Tony. It was his club! But we’re gonna find the one who did this. We’re gonna take them down. We all loved him, Tony.”

“If it isn’t Brickwell, it’s Lee. I want you and Dino here to hit up our contact in the SCPD.I want to know who is in charge of the investigation before they come knockin’. You understand me?”

Benito nodded as he motioned for Tommy Scarapelli’s now-unemployed driver to follow him. Samuel “Dino” Santini, a twenty-three year old friend of the family who had just moved back to Star City from Opal was the newest member of Scarapelli “Family” and was smart enough to know when to keep his mouth shut and do as he was told.

Dino got to the door before he was called back by Anthony. The grieving father motioned him over and made him lean in close so that only Dino could hear the words that the man whispered. “Make sure he doesn’t come back.”

Dino nodded and left to catch up. Forty-eight hours, Benito Costello became another missing person.

“Now if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I must see to my wife before I make a public statement. The future Mayor needs to address his constituents.”



“With only eight hours before the polls open, Channel Seven News’ online survey shows that our viewers are split nearly down the center between Tai Lee and Anthony Scarapelli. The third candidate, Independent Nora Clavicle has less than a twenty percent showing.

The entire country seemed to have an interest in this race, with both front-runners rumored to be involved with organized crime. As the nation watched in morbid fascination, SNL seems to have struck gold with this crazy election. We go live now to Sarah…”

The television went black. The man sitting behind the fifteen thousand dollar mahogany desk sat the remote down and picked up his phone. He tapped two numbers only and the call went through immediately.

“Yes, Sir?” This voice was younger, obviously eager to please.

“Tell Robertson to move forward, we buy now. I want this on the wire before the polls open. Then my press conference before they close.”

“Done.” The line went silent.

The man in the two thousand dollar Armani suit reclined back in his chair before placing his hands behind his head. It was good to be back in the business world. Hell it was great just being back in the real world again…



Four of Scarapelli’s best men were dead in seconds with arrows protruding from the back of their necks. Arrows instantly recognized by one of the world’s top assassins, Merlyn, whonow worked for Anthony Scarapelli.

He casually followed the trail of bodies, nodded in something akin to admiration at the precision of the attacks. This could well be a challenge, something he hadn’t had in quite a while.

As he followed the trail, he drew out an arrow,tossed it up nonchalantly and caught it behind his back. A relaxed smile played across his face but his eyes darted back and forth rather quickly.

“Ah, my dear Shado, I’ve heard so much about you. We’ve danced around each other for quite some time now, haven’t we? Both of us doing the jobs we are paid to do.”

“I do this out of loyalty and obedience, shallow little man.” Her voice seemed to echo down the hallway from all sides but Merlyn maintained the lazy smile.

“Ahh yes, the great Yakuza and their wonderful loyalty program; spare me, young one. They do seem to be a bit desperate though, don’t they? Going after Scarapelli on the same night they killed his son.”

“I am not here for Anthony.” The whispered voice felt close and Merlyn spun around to find open air. He turned the corner, into the back foyer and found another dead body. He continued down the grand hallway of the estate.

Merlyn nodded with understanding. “Of course, they want him to quit. This is as much about breaking his will as it is achieving unprecedented power in a major American city. Well sorry, sweetheart, but the Godfather in there hired the world’s best, trained by the League of Assassins. You can’t win…”

If he hadn’t felt the stir in the air at the last second, the spike at the end of her boot would have caught him right in the eye. As it was, he barely dodged enough for the heel to to split the right cheek..

He barely felt it as he reacted, flinging the arrow in the direction of the air shift. He heard it strike something but he couldn’t be sure it was her. There were too many shadows in the hallway, and he cursed himself. The lights had been taken out and he hadn’t even noticed until that moment. He'd been warned several times that killing Kid Arrow made him too cocky. He'd laughed it off, positive it jealousy. Now he began to wonder.

He crouched low and placed his bow silently against the wall. It was too tight even in an oversized hallway like the Scarapelli’s. He brought all his senses together and focused them. His breathing slowed way down. Just as they taught you in the League. His heart-rate dropped instantly and for the first time in many months he became one again with what he had been before – a killer, pure and simple.

He caught the foot as came toward him, instinct guiding him before it struck. He smiled to himself. It was good to be back; and then proceeded to snap the bones in her ankle. He applauded her ability to stay silent. He tossed her back and reached for his bow. When he came back up, she was gone.

“You’re not far, Shado. Why don’t you just come out of the darkness and let’s finish this, eh?
His request was met with silence. He didn’t have a problem with that at all. It just added to the entertainment value.

He turned the corner cautiously, heading towards Anthony Scarapelli’s inner sanctum. He knew her kind well enough to know that a shattered ankle was not going to stop her from trying to complete her assignment. Merlyn’s mind was working overtime. Where had he last seen Anthony’s wife – the intended victim.

A shattering of glass answered his question for him. There was a muffled grunt that came from the master bedroom. Merlyn nocked an arrow, his leg ready to kick in the door when a body came crashed through. It slammed into him, both men hurtled into the far wall.

It took the master assassin but a second to untangle himself from the other body then checked it for a second. When he realized it was Anthony’s long-haired driver and not the wife, he dropped the young man like a sack of wet potatoes.

The piercing scream told him that the missus was still in there. He went in aiming low, only to find the room already trashed and Annette Susan Scarapelli huddled in the corner of her bedroom crying hysterically. There were two pools of blood near the window that had been shattered from the inside. Merlyn knew Shado had escaped.

He reached down and extended his arm to the lady of the house, who clutched it. “You’re going to be alright now.” He tried to make it sound like he gave a damn. “What happened?”

“This crazy woman came in here, she tried to strangle me! If it wasn’t for Tony’s driver, I’d be dead. He tried to fight her off. Actually got her twice with a piece of broken mirror but she looked like she had already been injured. She was limping badly, could barely put weight on her right leg. If it wasn’t for that young man I would be…”

The rest of her sentence was interrupted by an arrow that struck her in the back of the head, shattered her skull and silenced her forever. Her body lurched forward so that she fell right into his arms. Her body shuddered twice before it lay still.

Merlyn dropped her with a sickening thud before he dove out the window. He rolled onto the grounds with three arrows flying past him in quick succession. They landed just inches from where he had jumped up, running for the trees on the south side of the estate.

He caught a glimpse as she swung from one elm tree to the next in her escape attempt. He also heard running behind him and turned quickly to see two security guards and that new driver kid running after both of them. It propelled him to move faster, his feet barely touching the soft dewy grass as he sprinted towards his goal.

It didn’t take him long to catch up to her. Shado’s ankle had made it nearly impossible for her to move quickly. He had to admire her though; she made sure she completed her mission before she tried to make her escape.

“Don’t kill her!” The driver shouted at him from what was now the length of a football field.

Merlyn ignored him as he leapt into the small wooded area, grabbed a branch and swung himself up into the trees. He was close to her now, so it was no surprise when she stopped swinging and turned towards him, firing two arrows into his chest. He grinned at her as a shark would grin at his prey. Surprise he thought to himself as he pulled them out without so much a whimper.

It was too late for Shado. She turned to jump out of the trees but he was already on top of her. His tackle sent them both to the ground below. This time she did grunt as her body hit the ground, and Merlyn landed right on top of her.

He grabbed her shoulder and turned her around with one hand while reaching for an arrow with the other. It was at that moment of vulnerability when Shado struck. Her right hand came up as the small blade shot out from a secret compartment in her suit, just under her wrist. She thrust up with all the strength she could muster and jammed the end of the blade into his neck.

For a moment it was as though time stood still for the both of them. She felt the blade slide into him, scraping bone. She watched as his expression froze for the briefest of moments; long enough to give her a shred of hope. Then her blood froze when she saw him begin to laugh. She could feel his laugh from the blade she had just slid into his neck. That was the moment her brain registered the lack of blood pouring from the mortal wound. She pulled the blade out, her eyes growing wide in shock as she viewed a perfectly healthy neck, without a scratch on it.

“Oh dear girl, it’s been one year and two days since last our paths crossed and things have changed quite a bit.” He grabbed her weapon hand, gave it a quick twist and shattered several bones throughout her hand. This time she cried out in pain which made Merlyn’s grin grow wider. He leaned into her left ear and whispered fiercely, “I’m not the same man I was back then. Surprise.”

She grinned back at him. “My death will be your biggest mistake and ultimately your final downfall.” She whispered back with such a knowing smile that for the first time in a year, Merlyn felt as though he wasn’t in control. He shook it off and the smile returned to his lips.

He shoved the arrow in his hand right into her heart. She made a gasp that turned into a low gurgle before the light left her eyes. Merlyn’s eyes, on the other hand, twinkled with something akin to pure carnal pleasure.

Scarapelli’s men finally caught up to them and the driver shouted out in anger. “The boss wanted her alive!”

“And she wanted me dead. Tell him too bad, so sad. Now why don’t you make yourself useful you little punk and take care of this body. In fact send the body back to Yakuza with a message, they lost.”

He walked away with a whistling tune on his lips.



The sun came up over Star City on Election Day with bloodshed, bodies and destruction. That would just be the beginning; before nightfall, it would be called the bloodiest election day in America’s history.



The helicopter swung out away from the skyline and toward the west side docks, then eventually several miles out into the Pacific where it landed softly onto a nondescript and anchored oil tanker just as the morning sun began to crest.

Two men in dark blue suits ran out to meet the chopper. The taller one stepped up as the engine quieted down. “You arrived just in time, Ma'am, everything is ready to go.”

“Good. Meet me on the bridge in four minutes,” she said as she limped towards the hatchway with a firm grip on her cane.

Three men greeted her arrival at the meeting room, and she nodded to each of them. “Are we sure everyone is in position?”

“Ask them yourself, we’ve got a secure line,” the largest man grumbled.

“Who do we have on the line?” the woman asked out loud as she looked around the room.

“Kate Spencer here. I’m right where I need to be.”

“Jack, there goes my effin’ career, Ryder standing by but for the record I want to say that this is the…”

“Thank you Mr. Ryder!” She cut him off. “Anyone else?”

“My team is in place, I assure you, Ms. Hunter.”

“Please, call me Amara… and I can call you…?”

“Let’s stick to Batwoman for a while and see how it plays out.” The voice of Barbara Gordon replied politely. “How about your team, Amara?”

“There’s only one on my team and I know he’s in place, isn’t that right Mr. Arrow?”

In a small room off the servant’s quarters, in the home of Anthony Scarapelli, the driver who went by the nickname Dino crouched in the corner and spoke softly into his watch. “I’m in position.”

“And the F.A.D.?”

Dino touched his face at the mention of the device. “Working properly; nobody is aware that they have a Dead Arrow working in their midst.”

“Alright then,” DEO Agent Amara Hunter said. “Let’s get to work. We’ve got a city to save.”

She motioned for the connection to be terminated and it was. Amara sat down in the nearest chair with a loud sigh.

“You’re still beautiful when you worry.” The large man at the other end of the table grumbled.

“Not now, Brick, not now…”

To Be Concluded