A/N: Hello m'dears… and goodbye. Goodbye because after much soul searching, I've decided that we've reached the end of the road for this part of the story. However, this is only the first part of the story. The next part of the story still remains to be told. Hopefully you have enjoyed this journey as much as I have.

Please, if you like this story, click the follow/favorite button. And reviews are deeply appreciated!

Later, much later, Slade stirred himself enough to ask Sienna the one question that had been haunting him since the kid's driver revealed that Barclay James had been the one behind his dove's kidnapping.

"Why did you not tell me that it was your father who sold you to the traffickers, love?"

He felt more than heard her sigh. "I knew enough about you to know that if I told you the truth about my kidnapping that you'd go and kill my father." She lifted her head off his chest, just enough so he could see the tide of emotion that burned in those chocolate depths. "And I didn't want that, Slade. I didn't want you going after my father."

"You didn't want your father to pay for what he'd done to you?" the question rippled with surprise as much as it did anger.

"Yes, I did want my father to pay for what he'd done to me," she said soothingly. "I still want him to pay for what he did to me."

He bent a look upon her, one eyebrow lifting. "Then why not tell me that it was him?" He followed that question with one more, "Why not allow me to get vengeance for you?"

"That's exactly why I didn't tell you, Slade."

He made a low sound deep in his throat that was part speculation and part confusion. "You didn't tell me because I would have killed the bastard?"

She tucked her head back beneath his chin and released a tiny breath that skittered over moist flesh.

"Yes," she murmured. "And I didn't want another hole added to your soul. Or another piece taken from your heart. Not for me and certainly not because of me. So I kept the truth to myself, buried it as I tried to bury the memories."

He felt the rage coursing through him still at those softly uttered words. Was it any wonder why this woman meant the world to him? When he'd seen her in that auction house she'd represented nothing more than a cause that he could fixate upon. She'd needed him. And he could admit he'd needed her as well. But somewhere along the way she'd become something more than just a cause or his atonement for having failed to protect Shado. Sienna James was rhyme and reason inside a diabolical plot that not only ruined his life, but the kid's as well. She was unwaveringly loyal and sweetly compassionate. She was the order amidst his chaos. She was his partner and ally, his lover and friend. Even knowing what he was, the innumerable things that he'd done, she decided to remain with him, to save him.

She'd chosen to love him.

It was the last that astonished him the most.

Well, not the only thing, he mentally corrected with a small smile. How she'd managed to sweetly convince the kid to bring her here (before the assassin had taken a shot at her) also surprised him. And he knew it shouldn't have. His dove was far from a stupid woman. Solving complex problems of any sort were a hobby of hers. They were a way for her to challenge and amuse herself. Gaining access to him was nothing more to Sienna than a matter of finding the right buttons to push that would make the kid agree to her requests.

Getting him out of this specially designed island prison was an entirely different matter, however. Ah, but then he realized she'd cleverly figured out a way to get around A.R.G.U.S's security system as well. It'd just required her to enlist the aid of someone familiar with breaching such a complicated network. Slade's lips twitched. Yes, his dove may have lacked the cold and cunning demeanor that he possessed. She might not be capable of telling even the whitest of lies (a fact which continued to amuse him). She lacked the sophistication necessary to weave complex and calculating little ploys of deception. But his woman did have a brain. And he had to admit that it was the deadliest weapon in her arsenal.

"How long before whoever you have helping you arrives to spring us from the kid's cage?"

He felt her lips curve against his throat. "Now what makes you think that I am working with someone?" he felt her say.

"Love," he said in those honeyed tones he knew caused her eyes to lose focus. "There's absolutely no way you could have concocted this entire plan all on your own."

She harrumphed and then huffed, "I will have you know that I concocted half of this plan all by myself."

"Did you now?" he said in all seriousness. "And who is it that concocted the other half?"

He felt her body shake with silent laughter. Then she chirped, "You'll find out who my partner is soon enough, darling."

Almost as if on cue a whirring sound filled the bunker. Slade recognized it as coming from the gears inside the computerized door lock. A second later he heard the latch release with a click, and turned his head in time to watch as the heavy door slid open.

"And he's right on cue," Sienna said as she rolled to her feet.

"He?" Slade rumbled as he stood up. He heard the chord of jealousy that sizzled in his tone and felt the fool for it. He wasn't the sort of man to display such feelings. With this woman, however, he could not help it. She was his. And that was all there was to it.

Sienna tossed a smile at him from over one shoulder. "Yes, Slade," she said with a nod. "He."

"Long as he knows to whom you belong, love."

She lifted a hand to his cheek. "Oh, he knows that I am hopelessly in love with a moody, one-eyed pirate."

His lips lifted into the ghost of a smile. "Who routinely forgets his effects?"

She shook her head, and said, "Really must do something about that. What sort of respectable pirate goes around without his cutlass and pirate hat?"

"Ah," Slade said, his lips curving into a wolfish smile. "But you are the only one who says I'm respectable, love."

She snorted a laugh before turning to exit the cell. "We'll discuss your respectability later," she said. "Come on. We only have a few minutes in which to get topside."

Slade followed her, going up the ladder first in case she was mistaken and a trap was waiting outside. He pushed open the hatch and climbed out into the balmy night air. Soon as he was clear he turned to help pull Sienna up.

"Now where, love?" he asked her.

"We follow him," Sienna replied, pointing at a figure that was behind Slade. He turned, instantly spying the dark figure in black reinforced Kevlar body armor, their cape fluttering in the breeze like a pair of gossamer wings, and the pointy ears of their cowl casting an ominous shadow upon the moon speckled rocks.

"Love," he said without looking at Sienna. "We really need to talk about your friends."

"Sure, honey," came her sweet reply. "We'll talk about him just as soon as you start talking about Shado."

In the dark shadows of an abandoned warehouse, one which had already been the scene of another clandestine meeting, the two remaining conspirators met. The need to remain in the shadows had become a prevalent one after word of the death of Sister Honor had reached their ears. Other deaths had soon followed-Brother X in Atlanta by an apparent drug overdose, Sister Cause by a car bomb. It'd become clear to the remaining two men that Brother Consequences had decided to end his association with them. The recent deaths were all an indicator that the billionaire was cleaning house. All that remained now was them and the man who'd started it all: Brother Host.

"Are you absolutely sure that Consequences knows nothing about this place?" Justice twittered. "He is no fool. And," he added in a hurried whisper, "he has spies literally everywhere." He shot a fearful look towards the rafters before stammering, "H-he could well b-be watching us from somewhere clo-close by and just wai-waiting to order Har-Harbinger to put a bull-bullet in us."

"Calm yourself, Justice," Truth ordered in a firm tone. "Brother Consequences does not know about this warehouse. Nor is the Harbinger loyal to him."

"Harbinger is loyal only to blood and money!" Justice whimpered in a nasal tone that grated upon the nerves of his companion.

"And that is why he faithfully serves me."

"You're a fool if you think he's faithful to you!"

"You are worrying for nothing."

Brother Justice turned burning eyes upon the man. "I worry for good reason!" he snarled. "Consequences is cutting his losses and ridding himself of anybody and everybody that might tie him to this disaster!"

"So what if he is?" Truth flicked his gaze over the trembling man, disgusted as always by his cowardice. "With the money that we have stashed away, we can leave Starling, and find some place to hide. Once we are safe we can figure out how to go about salvaging this mess."

Justice scoffed. "And you think that a man like Consequences is going to simply allow us to disappear without sending out the bloodhounds to find us? Get real!"

"He may send out his bloodhounds," Truth gritted. "But if we burrow deep enou..."

Whatever else Truth might have been about to say came out as a gurgle. Justice let out a high pitched shriek as he saw the blackened third eye that appeared in the middle of Truth's wrinkled forehead. Another shot rent the night, slamming into Justice's chest.

He was dead before his screams even stopped echoing throughout the warehouse.

On the rooftop of a building adjacent to the warehouse, the Harbinger saw through the scope of his rifle how the round he'd discharged found purchase in the crinkled flesh of his first offering. He released the breath he had been holding, feeling the bite of pleasure burn. Then he chambered another round, his excitement reaching a feverish pitch even before he took aim at his second target. The recoil of the rifle sent shivers throughout his body, spreading heat to the dark and cold places hungry inside him.

It was a good day.

He had satisfied his craving and added two more names to his list.

His phone chirped as he carefully, reverently took apart his beloved rifle and stowed her in her special carrying case. He had a message. One chirp meant a text was incoming. Two chirps indicated a phone call. Three chirps said he needed to return to nest. He had time remaining in which to soak in his glory. For the next few minutes he would bask in his success. The names of those he'd just reaped placed him one step closer to becoming the top assassin in the world. For the next few minutes he could allow the pleasure to burn, hot as the sun over Caracas, through his veins. The next few minutes he could feel... alive.

The phone chirped again five minutes later. So it was a text. He reached down and picked up the vibrating phone in one tanned hand. Silently, he wondered what Consequences could be wanting of him now. Not that it mattered. So long as the man continued to feed him what he wanted, he'd happily serve him. He slid his thumb across the screen in one smooth and effortless motion in order to read the message sent to him.

Is it done? the message read.

He grunted while thinking what a stupid question. Then he tapped the screen with one blunt finger and text one word back in response: Yes.

It was silent for all of thirty seconds. Then the phone pulsated in his palm. He glanced at the screen and saw one word had been sent back: Excellent. Then the phone vibrated once more: And James Sr.?

The Harbinger's teeth flashed for a moment. Then he sent back: Any minute now.

The final message from Consequences read: You have done well, Harbinger.

Yes, it was a good day, the assassin decided as he exited the roof.

"Take a left at the next exit," Felicity said, her eyes glued to the screen of her tablet. "James Industries is on the corner of University and 22nd Street. Which, considering how we are going to be breaking into the building in order to find out if a shipment of Mirakuru might not have magically been delivered..." she trailed off as she pondered what exactly it was that they should do. Then she said, "We might want to park in a place where we are not likely to attract any suspicion."

Diggle didn't argue that point because he agreed with it. Instead he asked, "Have you managed to find out on what floor of the building that the labs might be located on?" He heard her snort and shot a small sheepish smile at her before saying, "Sorry. I forgot who I was asking that question too."

"Obviously." Her lips twitched with the humor in her tone. Then Felicity sobered and tapped the screen of her pad with her finger. "And according to the building plans I was able to find, the labs are housed on floors 12 through 15."

"Never make it easy, do they?" He grumbled as he took the exit she'd told him to take. He was just pulling to a stop at the next light when an explosion shattered the stillness of the night...

"What do you mean the building blew up?" Oliver demanded when Felicty called him ten minutes later. "How can a thirty story high rise just blow up, Felicity?"

"I don't know, Oliver," she replied in a voice that was thin and reedy. He heard a sniffle and could well imagine that her face was white as chalk and her eyes huge orbs full of shock. Instantly, he softened. Felicity had gone through a lot in the last few weeks. She'd put herself in the line of fire so that they could inject Slade with the cure. That she could have lost her life that night was something still giving him nightmares. He could only imagine what it was doing to her.

"It's okay, Felicity," he told her gently. "I'm sure nobody was inside the building when it blew up."

"Are you so sure about that, Oliver?"

No, he really wasn't sure. There was a very real possibility that a cleaning crew had been inside the building at the time of the explosion. It was probable that there were security guards patrolling the grounds. But that wasn't what he told Felicity. It wasn't what his girl needed to hear. No, what he told her was a carefully constructed lie that neither one of them believed.

"I'm positive, Felicity."

Oliver hung up the phone and stood there; looking out over this foreign city he'd been sent to. This city is nothing like Starling. No, a different sort of darkness cast its pall upon the city of Gotham. One that Oliver sensed did not completely come from the criminal element that lived beneath the city's surface. Even a stranger like him could tell this was a hard, unforgiving city. He drew in a breath and released it slowly. It was a city that spawned villains with names like Joker, Scarecrow, Killer Croc and Bane. A city, Oliver realized, that relied on its vigilantes to help them survive. It was a dark and disturbing realization.

"So, lemme guess," Roy said after an interminable amount of time had passed. "We've already hit a dead end with the Mirakuru and not even been here two hours."

"Yeah, Roy," Oliver said on one long exhalation of air. "We've hit already hit a dead end."

Roy opened his mouth to say something (and Oliver imagined it to be something sarcastic) when there was a fluttering sound, like the flapping of wings, and the sound of boots connecting with the pavement. Both men turned to face their intruder, each reaching for an arrow in the quiver they wore on their backs. Only, they were left absolutely stunned when they found themselves face-to-face with a boy all of maybe fourteen or fifteen. Deep set blue eyes winked at them from behind a half-mask and a cocky smirk curved one corner of the teen's mouth. His green, red and yellow armor told the older heroes that this was no ordinary kid. And the big yellow R stamped in one corner of his chest plate told them exactly who the young hero was: Robin.

Those eyes shifted back and forth between Oliver and Roy, sparking with humor, intelligence and something that left a cold feeling in the pit of Oliver's stomach. There was something dark in this kid.

"So," he said while staring at Roy. "Are you supposed ta be the one Sienna called Link?"

Roy instantly bristled. "Do I look like a Link to you?"

"Hey, don't go and get your panties in a bunch here, pal," the teen hero snipped. "All Sienna told me was that I was ta give this letter to some guy in a hood. And your partner here ain't wearing a hood, nor does he look like the sort ta even know who Link is."

"Well, I'm not just some guy in a hood," Roy growled before jerking his thumb at Oliver. "And he's the Link you are looking for."

Oliver bent a sarcastic look upon him. "Thank you for that, Roy."

Roy glanced away, managing to look slightly abashed for addressing him so rudely. "Sorry," he muttered.

That his... associate (Oliver wasn't comfortable yet in calling him his protégé) was annoyed by the mouthy teen was evident. Oliver had a feeling he'd be separating the two at some point before the end of the night if things didn't improve between them. Already he could tell that the two shared at least three traits between them: compulsive anger issues, rash behavior, and an inherent recklessness that often got them in trouble. He finally glanced at the smirking hero.

"I'm the one Sienna calls Link," he told him on one long, exasperated breath. "But you can call me..."

"The Arrow," the kid cut in. "Yeah, she told me who ya are."

"She did?" Oliver asked, blinking in surprise.

"Yup," he confirmed while handing Oliver the envelope. "Oh, and the other name she calls ya ain't an insult so ya know."

Oliver lifted one brow. "Being called Link is not an insult?"

"Nah, it's not," the teen said. "Pet names are just her way of showing ya how much she likes ya."

"And you know this how?" Roy demanded.

"'Cause she tends ta call me the Winged Blunder when she's happy with me and Buzzard Brains when she's annoyed at me." He flashed them a lopsided grin. "It's kinda like how she calls him Fairy whenever she's really pissed off at him."

Oliver ignored that and tore open the envelope to read the letter that Sienna had given to him for delivery.

Dear Oliver,

I need to explain, and I need to be honest and clear. I did not do this to hurt you. I did this because it is the only way to help you. Please understand that I know my father better than anyone. I know what he's capable of. I have seen what he is willing to do in order to win. He will do whatever is necessary in order to get his hands upon Slade and the Mirakuru. I cannot, in good conscience, allow either to happen. And neither can you if we both are being honest. I enlisted the aid of Batman not because I don't trust you, but because I fear the man behind this entire situation is an evil unlike any you've ever encountered. You need an ally, Oliver. I'm giving you the very best one.

Yours,

Sienna.

Oliver wiped a hand over his face, refolded the letter, stuck it back in the envelope, and stuck it into his pocket before he looked at Robin.

"How long after we left Lin Yu was Slade Wilson released from prison?"

"An hour," came the reply.

Oliver just sighed before he again looked at the Gotham skyline.

"Are we going to go after him?" Roy asked.

"Why?" Robin questioned curiously. "He's not the threat ya need to be worrying about."

"And how'd you know?" Roy barked as he spun to face the teen. "What makes you…"

"Roy," Oliver interjected with a sigh. "Robin's right. Slade's not our primary concern right now."

"Oh, yea?" Roy bit out. "And what is?"

"Just me thinking out loud here," Robin said as he hopped up onto the ledge of the building. "But I think finding the guy who has a supply of Mirakuru in his hands is your top concern right now."

After one final smirk at Roy, who cursed and took a step after the caped crusader, Robin leapt off the building and disappeared into the shadows between two buildings.

"I hate that kid," Roy grumbled.

Oliver wisely chose to remain silent.

Felicity stood watching the firemen work to contain the blaze twenty minutes later. They weren't trying to save the building-what would have been the point to save a building that was pretty much gone anyway? But they did work at saving the adjacent buildings. Felicity saw hundreds of pieces of paper blowing across the ground. She picked one up and, in the glow caused by the fire, saw it was a business card for someone named J.T Markinson. He worked for James Medical as a consultant. Hopefully he was home safe and not working late on some project. It bothered her that someone had chosen to blow up the high rise in order to make a point. What point exactly she did not know, but it was a point nonetheless. She looked up as Diggle came walking towards her. The orange glow cast his grim face in shadow.

"Were you able to learn anything from the police?"

"Not much," he admitted with a disgruntled sigh. "But the building is gone. Whoever rigged it to blow knew exactly what they were doing."

Turning to again gaze at the fire, Felicity asked, "Was Sienna's father in there?"

"The cops say they won't know who might have been in the building until the fire chief can get in there to start wading through the mess," he paused to draw in a breath that he released slowly before adding, "but they are saying that the safe bet is that Barclay James was in the building at the time."

"Why do they think he was in there?"

"Mainly because his driver was passed out in the front seat of his town car at the time the building blew."

She turned watery eyes upon Diggle. "Why?"

Diggle set a gentle hand upon her shoulder. "Why what, Felicity?"

"Why would someone go to this much trouble just to kill one man?"

His fingers dug into her shoulder, quietly reassuring as much as they were offering much needed comfort.

"This was a clean-up job, Felicity." He didn't mince words with her because he could see that half-truths were not what she wanted, or needed to hear at that moment. "The man that Miss James thinks is responsible for everything that has happened to Oliver and Slade Wilson is getting rid of every document, scrap of paper and person who can lead back to him."

A frown knit Felicity's brow. "He's cutting his losses and getting rid of the evidence trail so that we can't find him."

"Yup," Diggle confirmed with a slight nod. "And that," he stated, "can only mean one thing."

"He has the Mirakuru."

Diggle didn't offer a reply. By Felicity's way of thinking, nothing more needed to be said. He turned his back on the groaning building and stood unmoving for a moment. Felicity imagined that the same sea of thoughts was crashing over him as they were her. The nightmare was nowhere near being over. Until they found that shipment of Mirakuru and the man responsible, none of them would be able to relax. For her?

It was a future that was not safe.

A few hundred miles away, in the city of Metropolis, a man thumbed open the locks on an aluminum carrying case and opened the lid in order to examine the pristine crystal vials lined up in five perfect rows. For him, this was the start of what would be a very profitable expenditure and the ending of what had been proven a costly mistake. For him?

It was a future full of promise.

On an island somewhere out in the middle of the Pacific, a man celebrated the end of his first night of freedom by watching the sun melt into the horizon. For him, this was the ending of what had been nothing more than a seven-year long nightmare and the start of what would be a life spent in quiet solitude with the woman he held in the circle of his arms. For him?

It was a future full of hope.

But somewhere in Gotham, unbeknownst to anyone, a man stood looking at the secret he'd managed to discover hidden inside a vial full of a neon green chemical. A smile spread across his thin lips and his limpid eyes shone with a feral glee as he realized the power he held in the palm of his hand. For him, this was the independent variable he'd administer to his experimental group and the start of a whole new batch of research results he would use to analyze the emotion which continued to elude him. For him?

It was a future full of one thing...

Fear.