2553/The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time
Date of Scene:	21 July 2020
Location:	The Boathouse, Starling City
Synopsis:	Slade Wilson completes a job in Starling City, Thea Queen crosses his path. It doesn't end well for her.
Cast of Characters:	Slade Wilson, Thea Queen

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Slade Wilson has posed:
"The Boathouse" is not, in fact, a house for the storage of boats. Nor is it a House that is a Boat (which would be a houseboat anyway), it is, in fact, a seafood restaurant in the Glades of Starling City. Here you can get not-so-fresh fillets, oversalted clam chowder ("chowdah"), and totally not ripped off from a national chain of lobster joint cheddar biscuits that if you're lucky were prepared today. Somehow, it smells like cigarette smoke even though it's a no smoking establishment. There's a bar, but nobody ever seems to be sitting at it. In fact there's rarely anybody in here at all beyond a couple bored-looking cooks and a collection of rough-looking goons who don't seem to be eating or drinking much. OF course the owner, Michael "Mikey" Stoyanovitch vehemently denies all rumors of his connections to organized crime....

Slade Wilson has posed:
Tonight, however, it might be really hard for Mikey to deny those rumors, as the place is packed with goons, and they are visibly armed. There may in fact be word on the street that Mikey Stoyanovitch has hired a "serious player" to take out one of the major obstacles that has long stood in his path to a greater degree of influence and control in the Glades: Mr. Ken Song, who like Stoyanovitch, denies all rumors of connection to organized crime, and who also has a restaurant...actually three restaurants...a chain of Korean Barbecue joints that have actually become quite successful in the suburbs of the city...but his "soldiers" work the Glades, and while neither Song nor Stoyanovitch are remotely the largest players in this imperiled neighborhood, Song does stand several notches above Stoyanovitch.

Thea Queen has posed:
While Thea may not particularly //care// about the Seafood Restaurant, the fact that it's close to her club and it's no secret who operates out of it as a storefront is a problem. She's savvy enough to know that it'll interfere with her business, sure, but moreso? The Glades deserves better. It's been dealt a raw hand for so long, and this neighborhood is where she'll be setting down roots.

Word on the street, though, has something serious going down, and normally? Normally she'd get the aid of her brother, but at the moment, either there's no time or he's incommunicado with something else, or.. she's just a plain idiot who thinks she can do it herself. As a result, she's taken her suit of red from the Arrowcave, her bow, and a handful of trick arrows to compliment her quiver of 'plain' (but lethal ones), and she's there as recon.

A silent bow tosses an arrow into the air in order to pull herself up and onto the roof of The Boathouse, and retakes it so it won't be located later. It's a little slower than usual, with her whisper-cursing the fact that her brother was probably right about the salmon ladder, but there's no helping that now. What she lacks in strength, she more than makes up in litheness and the ability to move.

Thea, that is, Speedy had gotten the basic timing for the gathering, though when the hit would be? In a way, there's merit in letting one beat on the other so both are weakened and can be taken out, but the potential for collateral damage is .. immense.

So, moving silently across the roof, she's very careful not to be seen just in case there's a perched look-out, avoiding a chance to be silhouetted against the night's sky.

Slade Wilson has posed:
And the rumors are true...about as true as they can get. Because when the front doors to the Boat House are kicked open (causing several of the goons to reach for their weapons, though they relax after a few moments...but not entirely), it is none other than one of the world's most highly-paid assassins, Deathstroke aka "The Terminator." He's clad in his infamous orange and blue mask and armored uniform, complete with sword and an array of other weapons (mostly firearms). He's also carrying a struggling figure, bound and gagged. The man is deposited on the floor in front of the table where Mikey Stoyanovitch sits. Deathstroke places a foot atop the man, whose struggles cease, though he's still clearly breathing hard and looking panicked.

"All right. He's yours..." Deathstroke speaks, though when a pair of Stoyanovitch's men start to move forward, he shifts the assault rifle he's got slung cross-body to a more ready position, bringing the clearly-nervous men to a halt.

"-After- I get the second part of my payment. Half up front, half after."

"Right...right." Mikey speaks, flashing his oily smile, "Why don't you have a drink? It will take a couple minutes to make arrangements." Mikey studies Mr. Song on the floor, an eager but sickly smile crossing his lips. Oh he definitely seems to have plans.

"I'm not here for your hospitality. I'm here to get paid. Get on with it." It's not desperation or even exactly impatience that bleeds through the mask's voice filter, but there is a degree of exasperation.

"Well, you see...there may be a bit of a problem. See, I could only afford the first half of your payment."

Deathstroke's head cocks slightly, and he's silent for a moment, before he mutters, "I fucking knew it. This is why I don't work for small-timers." He reaches down to start hefting Park up, but of course Stoyanovitch's men start to level their weapons, causing Slade to pause, then straighten, looking around the room in a way that despite the mostly-featureless mask still seems to carry an immense amount of contempt.

"No payment, no prize. You broke the deal." Slade looks back to SToyanovitch.

"Relax! I'll get you your money...with Song outta the way it should only take me a few weeks." Mikey's still smiling, but there might be a bead of sweat forming on his brow.



"Then I'll bring him back in a few weeks." Mikey's still smiling, but there might be a bead of sweat forming on his brow.

" Slade replies.

"I'm not gonna be able to agree to that, but we're reasonable men, right? Surely we can come to some kind of arrangement. I mean I've already given you 250 G's."

"Yeah, we can come to the arrangement where you give me the other 250, I give you Song, and I make a point never to have to do business with a small-fry moron like you again."

Mikey frowns, spreading his hands, "Come on now, don't be like that...it'd be unfortunate if this got violent. As you can see, my boys here...there's a lot of them and only one of you."

"My God..." Slade looks around briefly once more, then leans forward just a bit to add: "You're even more stupid than I thought..."

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea can hear murmurings, and she moves lightly towards the front of the restaurant, catching a little more of the tumult. All of a sudden, it's gone from handle-able to okay, this might actually be a little less handle-able. While she can't exactly //hear// what's being said, there's enough to know that it's not going to be pretty. So, from her perch, she strains to listen.

There's movement around the building; she'd timed her ascent properly, and as goons move, they're not quite as stealthy as she'd been. It's one thing she's learned from training; take opponents out quickly so they can't raise an alarm. And while she hasn't yet //killed// anyone, she's been able to make sure they don't call out an alarm either.

Specialized arrows.

But first?

Thea sends a recording arrow, something she can listen in on to hear what is going on. It's quietly shot, landing on a support beam a little higher than one would look. (Who looks up, anyway?)

The moment that finds its anchor, Thea pulls out an electric shock tipped arrow to catch the guy that is coming around front, looking as if he's going to be headed towards the entrance.

<<Come on, come on.. shadow..>> and her arrow is loosed, catching the goon square in the shoulder, the bolt of electricity forcing him to fall backwards both with that and the impact of the arrow. It's nothing more than a gasp or a grunt; no calling out.. which allows Thea to breathe, if only for the moment.

Slade Wilson has posed:
"Now wait a..." Mikey ever-so-slightly starts to rise from his chair.

And that's when all hell breaks loose.

Slade kicks the table, sending it sliding back hard enough to bowl over both Mikey and the two goons flanking him. On Slade's left, one guard fumbles with his submachinegun in a panic, too late...a burst of gunfire from Slade's assault rifle sends him collapsing to the ground, if not dead then he will be soon enough. On Slade's right the fellow's got a sawed-off, but he got too close, as Slade's right hand pulls the sword over his shoulder out in a quicksilver arc that slices the weapon in half before it gets a chance to fire. Slade then hurls the sword across the room, impaling a third mook to the wall right through the AKM he's holding, with enough force that the blade actually pierces all the way through to the outside, glistening in the dark. Slade sidesteps to his right, grabbing the now-disarmed man and shifting him about just in time for the poor fellow to absorb a hail of gunfire from his fellows, all while Slade fires his assault rifle one-handed in two, no three quick bursts, each one dropping another victim.

Perhaps a few of Mikey's boys are starting to realize this is going to be a slaughter, but Slade's moving fast enough that they may not even get time to surrender.

Of course, all this commotion causes those guards that remain outside to start scrambling to try to get in the door, completely unaware that Thea is lurking in the shadows.

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea can hear the tumult, but remarkably things are quieter than most would suppose. The sound of blade moving through flesh is a lot subtler than movies would have people think. She touches the earpiece that receives from her broadcaster, and for a moment, looks as if she's going to turn green with the imagined slaughter below her. Whether it is actually happening or not, that's.. what it sounds like?

There is enough commotion, however, to make those goons outside start to make their way in, and immediately, there's an arrow on her string, nocked and loosed, one after another after another. Not all kill shots, but they don't have to be; just have to take them out of commission. And the fact one, two fall on the ground screaming due to a shoulder injury, a lung injury.. there is one, two shots that are squeezed off in retaliation towards the perceived spot on the roof from where the threat comes.

Thea's done all she can, really, on the roof, and with a quick series of leaps, hangs and a properly balanced and recovered fall, she's on the ground and running, her bow up, ready, with an arrow nocked once more.

Coming around a corner, Thea meets a goon face to face; no room to shoot him, so she does the next best thing-- pulls the arrow and stabs the goon in the chest, giving her a chance to back-up in order to get that distance.

She's not looking where she's going; she's got the noises in her ear, there are goons, more than a few than she's used to fighting all at once, and she trips, falls backwards, only to be grabbed by another in a tight hold.

Thea squirms, trying to pull away, and with an elbow, tries to get her assailant right in the gut..

Slade Wilson has posed:
The goon with Thea in his grip grunts as the wind is knocked out of him, his grip loosening, leaving an opening for Thea to either do more damage or at least slip out of his grasp.

Meanwhile, inside, the tumult dies down almost as quickly as it begins, at least for the most part. Bullets impact against the armor on Slade's back, but there are flickers of light as they strike, pulses of energy that give the impression of a near skin-tight force field of some kind. Slade drops the human shield he'd been holding, as well as the now-spent assault rifle which falls to hang at his side, still slung to his torso, and crouches to one knee to avoid a headshot that zings over him. He pulls the pistol at his hip and fires six quick shots in succession...three double-taps in a row that fell the last three armed and upright mobsters.

Slade moves to step over first Mr. Song, who is lying still but clearly still breathing on the floor, and then the table that he had kicked into MIkey and two of his body guards. Two almost casual shots are fired, one into the head of the two bodyguards as they struggle to reclaim their feet, leaving a whimpering Mikey trying to scramble back away from Slade.

"My ribs...you broke my ribs." Mikey almost sounds like he's crying, which is just odd from a fiftysomething year old balding man.

"Don't worry, you'll be seeing a doctor soon." Slade remarks as he reloads his pistol. Hey, Medical Examiners are usually doctors.

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea pulls from his grasp, only to turn around and do a quick round-house kick to the man's head, sending him sprawling before he can grab at her foot. Scooping up her bow that had fallen on the ground, she takes one, two steps backwards (this time watching her step) before loosing another arrow to keep the man down.

A deep breath is taken before the shots ring out inside the building, and running towards the door, the littlest Queen in the red-hooded guise of Speedy catches the room that is absolute... carnage. Blue eyes behind the mask widen, and she takes a step back so the frame of the door is around her, and she can smell the iron-tang in the room. It's...

overwhelming.

Thea can feel the bile in her stomach welling up again, rising; there's a difference between an arrow.. and the full-scale horrorshow that is in that restaurant. Chances are good, perhaps, that motion, at the very least, is caught, if only by the reaction of the man who looks like he knows that he'll be dead in the next 30 seconds.

Hope... "Help me!" then despair as Thea moves away to empty what might actually be in her stomach.. which isn't much.

Slade Wilson has posed:
*BLAM* And Mikey Stoyanovitch is no more.

Slade turns about, and cants his head curiously at Thea. At least for a half-moment. She's still barely recovering from her stomach-emptying episode when he races across the floor, clearly faster than any normal man, and lashes out with three swift strikes...a light hook to stun her and take her further off balance, a second lower to her solar-plexus to expel the wind from her and double her over, and then a final to the side of her head, aimed to send her spiraling into unconsciousness.

She might cling to consciousness a little longer though...she's tough. And so she might hear the voice of someone speaking:

"I see your reputation is not unearned. Give me a few moments and the transfer of the second part of your payment will be complete. I trust I do not need to worry about the girl?"

"I'll take care of it. You need to get out of here." And then blackness claims her.

Thea Queen has posed:
Stomach.. oh god.. and Thea takes a deep breath through her mouth, hoping that she doesn't get that smell caught up in her nose again. As it is, that smell of fresh blood that just permeates everything is almost too much outside. Almost.

She is able to stand straight up again, anyway, and as she turns around, it's only that second before she's hit with that hook, sending her back a half step. There's an attempt, a staggered attempt but one all the same to try and protect herself from another, but the second blow comes too quickly after it.

*whoof*

It's like falling; the muscles expell the air but there's that moment when they absolutely refuse to fill again, and she's left trying to gasp for air that isn't immediately coming as she begins that crumple to the ground. She's not completely down for the count; not yet.

Finally, Thea is able to draw that breath of that iron-scented air in a gulped gasp before she's hit once more, which has the desired effect, that is, causes her to fade into darkness, lying there on the ground with the others that had been her victims.

They say that the last sense to go is hearing, and as she loses that grip on consciousness, words that come out of nowhere echo in her head before all is completely black.

Slade Wilson has posed:
On an exclusive network used only by members of the Hellfire Club's Inner Circle, slightly less than an hour later, a certain Malcolm Merlyn receives a message:

White Bishop,

Found a certain young lady of your acquaintance in the wrong place and the wrong time while on a contract. She likely has a mild concussion. She's resting on a cot at the warehouse she's converting in the Glades. Might want to check in on her when you get a chance, but Wintergreen is surveilling the place for up to the next 24 hours to make sure no one bothers her.

With Respect,

Black Knight.

PS: She's got some spirit, but she needs some more seasoning or the life that comes with that costume is going to chew her up and spit her out.