Capítulo 29: Chapter 29: Targets
Word Count : 1001
This had been a busy day for Krieg. Seemed like spending days away with the team had emboldened the criminal populace to try their luck again, forcing Krieg to run back and forth stopping one criminal after the other. And this repetitive work was beginning to grate on his nerves. Oh, as a Death Korps Guardsman, he was well acquainted with monotonous and repetitive work, siege battles did after all mostly consist of that. But at least back then, Krieg could assure himself that one way or the other, the siege would eventually end. This however? He had honestly lost count of the number of crooks he had beaten to a pulp this month alone, and yet still they kept on coming.
For crying out loud, some of them were hardly even worthy of his attention! Like the man before him now. Dirty, scrawny, dressed in what could best be described as rags, armed with nothing but a broken bottle that he had attempted to rob a prostitute with, the guy was probably a homeless vagabond stooping to the absolute lowest to sustain himself. Krieg doubted he had much desire, let alone skill, for a fight.
"Wait, you're that skull-faced vigilante! I surrender, I surrender, please spare me!" case in point. Krieg doubted he could have dropped his improvised weapon faster even if he had possessed super speed. Some would probably have found the sight a bit humorous, not to mention pathetic. Sadly, Krieg had very little in the sense of humor in him, though he would definitively call the vagabond pathetic.
"Be thankful I'm on a tight schedule," Krieg grumbled as he roughly pushed the man to the ground whilst reaching for a pair of handcuffs. Except he found no handcuffs. Damn, he had lost track of how many criminals he had to chain up for the police.
"Guess we're doing this the hard way after all," he muttered as he grabbed hold of the man's left arm and placed his boot on his shoulder.
"W-What are you d-doing?" the man stuttered in fright.
"Making sure you can't run away the second I turn my back to you," Krieg explained, right before dislocating the man's shoulder. Barely had the man's howl of pain begin before Krieg repeated the gesture on his right arm. Then his legs received the same treatment.
"Don't ever let me catch you out here again," Krieg warned the screaming man before scaling the buildings around him with his grapple gun, leaving the vagabond for the police to pick up. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, Krieg's patrol continued as normal. But it seemed like the city had finally decided to calm down. Perhaps he would even have time to swing by his base to resupply. Of course, the second that thought crossed his mind, his communicator went off. Krieg idly remembered Kid Flash complaining about tempting fate when remarking how easy something was. Perhaps there was an inkling of truth to that after all.
"Krieg here," he answered, expecting either Black Canary or Batman on the other end.
"Krieg, a pleasure to hear from you again," a jovial voice that was most definitively not Black Canary or Batman greeted him instead. Krieg was instantly on high alert.
"Who are you, and how did you gain access to this channel?" he demanded, already prepared to terminate the call and alert the League of a breach in their security.
"My boy, don't you recognize my voice? It's me, Lex Luthor," the voice answered, still strangely cheerful, like he was talking with an old friend for the first time in years.
"Mr. Luthor?" Krieg questioned in disbelief. How the hell did he gain access?
"Yes. Listen, I need to speak with you about an urgent matter, but it's not safe to share it over this channel. Meet me on the roof of LexCorps' office building here in Los Angeles as soon as possible," and before Krieg could so much as utter a single syllable, the line was cut. Left to his own thoughts, indecision quickly reared its ugly head. Krieg had once stated that he believed Luthor to be necessity on this world, and he still believed that. However, necessity did not equal trust. No matter the boons Luthor may bring, he was still a businessman at heart, driven by profit and expansion. Which begged the question, what did he want with Krieg? For the briefest moments, he considered contacting the League, but he quickly squashed that idea. It was but a simple meeting, nothing dangerous about that. Besides, if Luthor proved to be threat, Krieg was confident he could deal with him. So he set off towards his destination, an effort that took the better part of an hour navigating the city's rooftops. Finally arriving at his destination, he found the man himself already waiting for him.
"Mr. Luthor," he greeted as he came to stand before the businessman.
"Krieg, so good of you to join us!" Luthor said as he gestured towards a familiar woman standing behind him. "I'm sure you remember my assistant Mercy," the aforementioned woman said nothing as she simply sized Krieg up. Not that he minded much, considering he did the same in return, taking special note of her right arm, before turning his attention back to Luthor.
"You said there was an urgent matter we needed to discuss," he pointed out.
"Straight to the point, then? Very well, I can respect that," and just like that, Luthor's apparent good mood vanished, replaced by a far more serious expression. "Are you aware of current events in Rhelasia?"
"Only that the two countries are close to all-out was with one another, and that peace negotiations have ground to a halt," and what a waste it was. Those countries could have done so much more united as one, advancing the cause of mankind with their resources and manpower. But instead, they wasted both in a futile war about territory and ideology, just like every other pathetic country on this world. Honestly, he probably would have shot the lot of them long ago, Justice League be damned, if he did not know that the power vacuum created by such an action would only breed anarchy and destruction.
"Correct. Due to this, a neutral arbitrator has been called in to help resolve the issue before it spirals out of control," Luthor explained, with Krieg nodding along.
"A sound strategy, though I fail to see how this concerns me," he stated, to which Luthor's smile returned.
"Turns out, they want me as arbitrator, as one of the most influential people on Earth outside of politics," sounded wise enough to Krieg's ears, even though he personally would have preferred a more militaristic individual to beat some sense into those politicians, but it still did not explain what it had to do with him. As if sensing his thoughts, Luthor elaborated.
"However, I have recently received Intel that someone has put out a hit on me. Whether this is a personal vendetta against me or merely a convenient way to sabotage the peace summit I have no idea, but either way it risks open warfare to break out. I'm thus in need of some extra security," and that was enough for Krieg to put the remaining pieces together.
"You want me to act as your bodyguard during the summit," he summarized, receiving a nod of confirmation. Most would probably be flattered by such an offer, but Krieg could not wholly shake a lingering suspicion.
"Why me though? You could easily hire a professional bodyguard with your resources, or you could go to the Justice League for assistance. Say what you want about them, they value peace," Krieg said.
"Hired help can easily be bribed by my enemies, and I'm sure you're aware that I'm not on the best of terms with the Justice League. You however, you are an outside factor that I can count on not stabbing me in the back. Besides, I've seen your skills firsthand, I know you can hold your own in a fight," Luthor explained. It sounded strange to Krieg's ears, but what did he know of such matters anyway? He was a soldier, not a politician. In any case, this sounded like quite an important mission, one he would be remiss not to accept. There was just one matter he needed to deal with first.
"I need to acquire clearance from the Justice League first," he answered before reaching for his communicator.
"Come now, do you really put so little value in your own initiative?" Luthor's question halted Krieg as he turned his attention back to the man.
"It is standard procedure, no operative may act without League clearance," Krieg explained. He had pushed those limits once before, and the League had cracked down hard on him for that. It had taken him weeks before they allowed him to act independently again.
"Even if it's in service to a good cause?" Luthor inquired.
"It's standard procedure," Krieg simply repeated. What was so hard to grasp about that concept?
"Sounds more like an excuse for control to me," and that remark had Krieg's hackles rising as he glared at the businessman.
"Excuse me?" he questioned suspiciously.
"Just an observation on my part, but it looks like the Justice League is trying to control your every action. Why else would you forbid you from acting on your own initiative?" and Luthor's further observations just made Krieg's anger steadily rise. He seriously did not like what Luthor was insinuating.
"It is merely how a chain of command works, Mr. Luthor. The superior officers give commands to their subordinates and the subordinates carry them out," Krieg explained, voice completely at ease as he suppressed his anger. He was of the Death Korps, emotional outbursts were beneath him.
"Oh, sorry, I was under the misconception that the Justice League was a voluntary peacekeeping organization, I did not realize it was a military faction. My mistake," Luthor apologized, and that made something within Krieg snap.
"But if that is how it works, if the opinions of aliens are more important than your own judgment, go right ahead. Though I do hope you're aware they'll decline you, right? For all their vaunted sense of justice, the League can be very petty when dealing with people they don't like," and that pushed Krieg over the edge.
"After careful consideration, I believe that the Justice League can accept some personal initiative in the field," Krieg finally stated.
"Excellent, then we can depart immediately," Luthor announced as he came to stand next to Krieg, a reassuring hand placed on his shoulder to guide the soldier along.
"I need to return to base first and resupply, I have expended most of my equipment already," Krieg tried to explain stiffly, unused to such close contact with others.
"No need to worry about that, LexCorp can supply you with everything you would ever need," Luthor assured him.
"If you say so," Krieg hesitantly agreed. Why did he get this strange feeling that he was making a mistake?
Gentleman Ghost considered himself above all else to be a gentleman, to absolutely no one's surprise. As such, he considered it beneath his stature to rant and curse at misfortune whenever that fickle lady struck. Still, that did not mean that he was not pissed beyond imagination at his current situation. That insufferable brat Klarion had promised him his life back in exchange for a few jobs, but now that infernal daemon spawn seemed to have forgotten he even existed. With such a boss, was it any wonder he started looking for better employment? Fortunately, Scandal Savage had known the perfect job application for one of his particular set of skill.
"So, I've heard that you desire to join our ranks," though truth be told, he was quite intimidated by his new employer. Oh, not by his physical form, though he was sure mere mortals would tremble at the sight of this red clad giant that looked like he could squash your head in the palm of his hand. No, to an ethereal being such as Gentleman Ghost, brute force alone was not something to terrify him. What had him worried however were the clearly visible eldritch energy flowing around this giant like water in a river. Whoever he was, it was clear he was quite skilled in the arcane arts.
"That depends if you can meet my expectations. After all, I'm more than just a common thug," Gentleman Ghost proclaimed, masking his unease behind a façade of confidence.
"Indeed you are, Jim Craddock," the giant agreed, and Craddock was sure he would have suffered a heart attack then and there had he still been in possession of one. The giant knew his name? How? No one, barring the accursed Hawks, knew of it. For once thankful about a lack of face to give his inner thoughts away, Craddock swiftly recovered from the shock and pressed on.
"It seems you have me at a disadvantage here, Mr…"
"Oh, how thoughtless of me, my name is Azkillon of the Word Bearers," the now named giant introduced with an elegant and flourished bow that would not have looked out of place if performed by a 19th century nobleman.
"Now, onto the matter at hand. You obviously wonder if we possess the power to restore you to life. While I could easily just tell you about the power we wield, I have found it to be more effective to just show what we have to offer. Now, if you would just come this way, and I'll put all your worries to rest," by now, Craddock did not even bother guessing how Azkillon knew what he wanted. Instead, he accepted the invination and followed the sorcerer deeper into his lair, eager to see what he had to offer.
Krieg had to admit, from so high up in the sky, the world below looked so small and insignificant, like all its inhabitants and all their troubles were so far beneath you that they held no value to you. Seated aboard Luthor's personal jet, gazing out one of the windows, Krieg began to wonder if this was the kind of thought process that often infected those in power. Those that stood in their mighty skyscrapers looking down on the city below. Krieg could honestly not say, but he still purged his minds of those thoughts lest the taint proved real and infected him.
"We should be arriving within a few hours," Luthor announced as he took a seat opposite Krieg.
"Affirmative," Krieg answered as he turned his attention back to the myriad of documents laid out before him. Maps, dossiers, schedules, everything even remotely linked with this peace summit. Krieg had every intention of coming as prepared as he could get.
"I must admit, you're a bit of a paradox to me," Luthor continued, with Krieg only half listening as he went over the notes. He did not even bother to give a reply.
"On one hand, I would have pegged you for a soldier, what with your bearing, your tactics and your mannerism," Luthor explained, even though Krieg was not really interested in hearing what he had to say.
"That's because I am a soldier," Krieg answered absentmindedly, eyes still locked on the documents before him.
"But on the other hand, your choice of armament is not what I would expect from a soldier," Luthor continued, as if Krieg had not interrupted him. "Grapple guns, tasers, tear gas, rubber bullets, and handcuffs. This is what I imagine SWAT or someone like Batman to come equipped with, to avoid unnecessary death,"
"As I am associated with the Justice League, I am unfortunately restricted in how I conduct my operations," Krieg threw out as an explanation as he analyzed the blueprints with critical eyes. He really did not like how big those windows were.
"Just an associate, you say? I must say, they exert a surprising amount of control over you for being just an associate. Why, I would say it would be closer to being an underling," and that comment had Krieg freezing up in his seat, fingers tightening around a pencil he had just grabbed.
"I am an associate of the Justice League," Krieg empathized as he glared at Luthor from behind the gasmask. Luthor for his part seemed to sense that he had stumbled into dangerous territory and so backed off.
"Sorry, didn't mean to offend you or anything," he apologized, hands raised in a placating gesture. Krieg glared at him for a few more seconds before he slowly turned his eyes back to his work, forcefully pushing his anger aside.
"You did not offend me, I was just clearing up a misunderstanding," Krieg denied, even as he tried to purge the memory of the outburst from his mind. His actions were most unbecoming of a Corpsman of Krieg. Now if only Luthor would shut it and leave him in peace.
"If I may ask though, why do you adhere so rigidly to their ideas if you are only an associate?" apparently that was too much to ask for as Krieg reluctantly turned his attention back to Luthor.
"Mr. Luthor, this is information I dislike to discuss in public, and would prefer it if you were cease your questioning," he firmly requested of the man.
"Of course. If you don't want to talk about it, I'll respect your wishes," finally, some peace and quiet. Now he could finally complete his plans without interruptions. And hopefully without any further traitorous thoughts popping into his head
"Though I must say, you must have some strong faith in the Justice League to so willingly follow their instructions even if they go against what you would otherwise consider acceptable," and that proved too much for Krieg as he slammed his palms into the table and swiftly rose.
"Excuse me, Mr. Luthor, I need to visit the restroom," he stiffly declared before stalking away with rapid footsteps, like he was fleeing from the businessman. Or to be more accurate, from the thoughts and ideas that the businessman provoked. Still seated in his chair, Luthor allowed himself a smug, self-satisfied smile.
"Krieg, my boy, even with a mask on, I can still read you like an open book,"
Today had been an eventful day, if half the things talked about on the news were to be believed. A sudden spike in criminal activity that ended almost as quickly as it began, with most so-called experts pointing to a single factor behind it. Seemed like Krieg had been a busy boy. Not that it made Rachel any less cautious as she walked back home in the waning hours of the day. Normally, she would have already been home with a nice cup of herbal tea and a good book. Alas, she had gotten a bit distracted at her favorite café and lost track of time. And now here she was, about to take a shortcut through an alley to get home before dark. She barely managed five steps before a dark shape stepped into her path.
"Hey there, pretty girl. Wanna have some fun?" the lowlife asked with a lecherous grin as he advanced on her. Rachel barely even blinked as she drew her revolver from her handbag and aimed it at her target.
"I warn you, it's loaded, and I'm not afraid to use it," she warned, her steady hand and stern voice hopefully adding credence to her claim. Despite this man's obvious depravity, Rachel had no desire to harm him. But it seemed like that was an inevitability as the man simply threw his head back and laughed at her threat.
"Don't even bother, girl. I carry the blessing of Slaanesh, no mere weapon can harm me," the man boasted, but that did not concern Rachel in the slightest. No, what concerned her was the name he uttered.
"Slaanesh?" she repeated in confusion. She herself had never heard that name before, but there was this almost instinctual feeling within her that was all but screaming at her that she should be familiar with it. And that worried her.
"Yes, the one true god of this world, the one that will save us all from our dull lives," the man proclaimed as he tore his shirt open, exposing the two tattoos branded on his flesh. One an eight pointed star and the other what looked like a weird fusion of the typical symbols for male and female. Both of those symbols set off alarm bells in Rachel's head louder than London in 1940.
"Those symbols…" she muttered in horrified disbelief as her gun fell from numb fingers. Like the name Slaanesh, she did not recognize them from anywhere, but she could feel the taint surrounding them, the meaning they symbolized.
Daemons.
"Terrified, are you? Aw, don't be, just embrace the pleasure and the desire, and Slaanesh shall-" that was as far as the man got before he felt himself hoisted into the air.
"What the hell?!" he burst out as he looked down to see his whole body encased in an inky darkness. Then, he was slammed into the wall to his left, then the right, then the left, then the right again, then the ground, then the left yet again, then the ground again, and then he was hurled deeper into the alley before being firmly pressed up against the wall.
"What in the name of the Warp was that?" the man groggily asked, vision spinning from the beating he just took. But his body, already well used to all manner of abuse, quickly recovered as he became aware of Rachel approaching him. Except something was different about her now. Before the man's very eyes, she changed, her appearance shimmering and vanishing like a mirage. Pale skin turned ashen gray, hair once black as midnight became an unnatural shade of violet, her once unblemished forehead suddenly had a red gem planted in it. And her eyes, by Slaanesh her eyes. Once an alluring shade of brown, now they glowed with an otherwordly power as shadows danced around her slender frame.
"Where did you get those marks?" Rachel demanded, anger coloring her tone for the briefest moments. But despite her blatant display of power, the man remained unbowed.
"Threaten me all you like, witch, I will never betray my god," he declared proudly. Before Chaos found him, he had been nothing, a lowly lifeform eking out a dull existence in an equally dull world. Now, he was more than that, and he was never going to go back to that pitiful existence.
"Do you even understand the powers you bargain with? The terrible price they demand in exchange for whatever they offer you? Whatever your motives may be, you'll only doom yourself and countless others to a fate far worse than death," Rachel tried to reason with the man, tried to make him see what a grave mistake he had made. She knew from firsthand experience what happened to those who tried to make deals with daemons. It never ended well for anyone but the daemon.
"Then so be it," the man stated, and Rachel could feel that he would not change his mind. He was far too deep in already, and no amount of logic would sway him now. It made her really sad, to see another life lost like this, but it also brought with it a steely resolve.
"You know, I really hate to use violence," Rachel suddenly began, still keeping the man pinned to the wall. "I hate the thought of turning a child parentless, or tearing lovers apart. I hold all life sacred, even those who none would shed a tear over. And though I've taken lives before in the past, they are all another burden on my already heavy conscience, one I will bear for the rest of my life. But above else, I absolutely abhor the thought of torture, of willfully inflicting pain and suffering on another living being, no matter the reason may be. As far as I'm concerned, twice cursed may the one be who brings misery to those around him," at the end of her strange tirade, the man smirked in satisfaction, convinced that he was about to be released. But then he was flung high into the air with a very girlish scream, before being slammed into the roof. Then Rachel floated up after him, an expression on her face that put the fear of gods in the man's soul.
"Now, after all I've said, I truly hope you understand how big of a threat I see your masters as, with what I'm about to do to you," she warned, a hint of regret in her tone. But it was not enough to stop her as she approach with a palm open and outstretched towards the man. For the rest of the night, all the man would hear was his own agonized screams and pleads for mercy.
The first thought that came to Krieg as he gazed out of the limousine was that there were far too many reporters present, far too many potential assassins in his opinion. Something made worse by the fact that he was stuck in here rather than out there.
"With all due respect, Mr. Luthor, I must once again protest this plan. I would serve you much better if I was outside with room to act and maneuver," and he was not afraid to bring his misgivings to the man seated next to him.
"Relax, Krieg, I seriously doubt an assassin would try to strike me in such an open setting," and yet again, Luthor brushed his concerns aside. For such a polite and friendly individual, he could be extremely aggravating.
"Stranger things have happened," Krieg cautioned as he continued his vigilance, limited as it was.
"Tell you what, if we end up attacked before entering the building, I'll let you say 'I told you so', and I'll even let you have an input in future security plans," Luthor placated him, but Krieg barely paid attention to him at that point, too focused on spotting a potential hostile. As it turned out however, he need not have bothered, as even a blind man could have spotted the less an inconspicuous missile fired high into the air, its aim thrown off by a red arrow.
"Of course it would be him," Krieg muttered in frustration as the sound of fighting could be heard outside. But rather than charge out there, Krieg remained inside, ready to leap out at a moment's notice. He did not have to wait long as someone appeared outside the car door, ready to leap in. Krieg never gave them the chance as he kicked the door open, slamming it into the assailant.
"Stay in the car, Mr. Luthor," Krieg instructed as he leaped out and went straight after the assassin.
"You again," the assassin, who Krieg had the distinct impression of having met before, sneered as she drew a pair of sais and met him head on. She dodged a fist against her face and sidestepped a kicked before leaping over his shoulder and heading straight for the limousine.
"Oh no you don't," Krieg growled as he reached out and grabbed hold of her back. With a mighty heave, he hurled her back, kukri coming out to stab her in the guts. But like the motif of her mask, she nimbly dodged the strike even as one of her sais found a gap in his shoulder plate, embedding itself deep. Too late however did she see that she was close enough for a headbutt, which Krieg delivered with enough force to crack her mask and sending her stumbling back in disarray. But before either could step forward to resume to fight again, they both found themselves surrounded by Rhelasian security forces, weapons drawn and pointed at the duo as orders were shouted in a foreign language.
Krieg's first instinct was to charge and hack them to pieces, but he quickly reminded himself that he was here to stop them from killing each other, not actually doing the job for them. So he reluctantly sheathed his kukri and raised his hands in a surrounding gesture, no matter how much it irked him. Thankfully, he did not need to endure it for long before Luthor approached, smiling in good spirits despite just being the target of an assassination.
"No reason to panic here, folks. Krieg is with me," he assured them. There was reluctance on their part, but the Rhelasians backed away from Krieg, focusing their attention to the assassin instead, who had remained strangely compliant so far.
"What of the other one?" one of the officer questioned.
"Other one?" Luthor repeated in confusion, until they were led to the one they talked about. Even without the red arrow he had seen previously, Krieg would recognize the boy anywhere. Seriously, who did these heroes think they were fooling with nothing but a domino mask?
"Let them throw that one in jail," he muttered to Luthor as they stood a fair distance away.
"Oh, you know him?" Luthor asked with a knowing smile.
"Red Arrow, former sidekick of Green Arrow, currently a rogue vigilante. It would be wise not to let him jeopardize security," Krieg warned, but Luthor did not seem inclined to accept his wise council.
"Let's not turn away help when offered, my friend," Luthor answered before striding towards the still detained vigilante. "We have confirmation. This one's Green Arrow's pal Speedy,"
"It's Red Arrow now," the aforementioned vigilante growled out in irritation, his glare having a hard time deciding whether to focus on Luthor or Krieg.
"He must be questioned," one of the officers insisted, and Krieg was more than willing to accept those demands. He was even willing to offer assistance if the questioning required more brutal methods of extracting information.
"Lex Luthor vouches for him, captain. Release the sidekick," and Krieg did most certainly not pout in disappointment at Luthor's decision.
"EX-sidekick, and I don't need any favors from you," Red Arrow all but spat at him. 'Ungrateful bastard,'
"Apologies, I didn't realize you wished to join the young lady behind bars," Luthor retorted, still completely at ease despite Red Arrow's death glare.
"Which I still insist would have been the best course of action," Krieg announced, gaining Red Arrow's full and undivided attention.
"I know Luthor to be a rotten scoundrel, but I didn't think even you would sink to so low levels as to collaborate with him," he snarled at Krieg, face inches away from his gasmask. He quickly found Krieg's kukri poking him in the ribs.
"Withdraw from my personal space this instant, or there will be violence," Krieg warned, but Red Arrow would not back down so easily.
"Now, now, there's no need for violence. We came here to stop a conflict, not start one," Luthor suddenly spoke up as he placed a restraining hand on their shoulders. Red Arrow quickly shook his off and turned his attention back to Luthor, whilst Krieg calmly sheathed his kukri yet again.
"You may have everyone here fooled, Luthor, but I know what you are," Red Arrow warned, but Luthor was unmoved.
"Oh, I don't pretend to be an angel. It just so happens that this time, I'm on the side of the angels," Luthor retorted, his smug smile still in place as the trio walked inside the building, Krieg taking special care to always keep Red Arrow in his sight. What greeted them inside were a slew of accusations and insults thrown by both groups at one another, starting out in English before moving on to their native language.
"Why should either side trust you?" Red Arrow suddenly asked.
"Because, LexCorp is a company founded on peaceful enterprise for all humanity," was Luthor simple answer, and why did it sound like a rehearsed answer to Krieg's ears?
"Cut the act, Luthor! I've got Intel linking LexCorp shell companies to the sale of weapons in both Rhelasias. You're profiting off this war, so what's your angle?" and that revelation, courtesy of Red Arrow, had Krieg glaring at Luthor in suspicion. He forgot to mention THAT part when enlisting Krieg's aid. But not even that seemed to shake Luthor's confidence, as he just kept smiling.
"War income is pocket change compared to the billions to be made investing in a peaceful, united Rhelasia. And isn't it better to have peace, even if that scoundrel Lex Luthor profits from it?" solid reasons as far as Krieg was concerned, and they held a fair bit of logic to them. Still, this only confirmed his suspicions about Luthor having another agenda. No matter, as long as those agendas aligned with Krieg's mission, he would not act against the billionaire. But perhaps it was prudent to prepare for such an eventuality?
"That 'scoundrel' may not survive to profit. Cheshire failed, but the League of Shadows won't stop until the contract is fulfilled," Red Arrow quickly pointed out, which had Krieg on even higher alert, looking for blades in every shadow. Damn, did he hate assassins.
"Which does beg the question, who hired the League?" did it really matter who did? Those assassins would still come anyway.
"And were you really the target, or was your death just a convenient way to sabotage the summit?" again, did it really matter? Either way, the results would still be the same.
"Allow me to hire you to find out," Luthor offered.
"Your money has blood on it, and I'm not here to make a buck," and Red Arrow promptly turned him down. Well, what do you know, the archer had something to be admired about him.
"So, you'll provide your services, but for free? I can live with that, hero," Luthor smugly stated before striding towards the squabbling delegates with Mercy in tow, leaving the duo standing alone.
"Don't get in my way, or you'll regret it," Krieg warned as he stalked away to inspect the surroundings.
"That goes both ways, Krieg," Red Arrow called after him before he too walked away. He had an assassin to interrogate.
"Has Mr. Craddock been sent home?" Azkillon inquired as he seated himself on a chair specifically designed to hold someone of his immense weight.
"Yes, my lord, he will continue to operate within the Light until we call upon him," Anarky informed.
"Good. Instruct Scandal to keep a close eye on him for the next few weeks, just to make sure he remains loyal to our cause,"
"As you wish, my lord," with a flourished bow, Anarky left to carry out his assigned task. And once alone, Azkillon slumped into his seat with a tired sight. Everything was just going too fast for his liking now. Recruitment was increased exponentially, larger quantities of armaments were smuggled in, and more Metas were added to the fold. Plans that should have been completed in months were now rushed in mere days. For a man as patient and meticulous as Azkillon, this was all one giant disaster, all caused by the impatience of one man.
"Damn you, Markoth," he muttered under his breath. That power hungry glory hog was jeopardizing it all because he could not wait a few more months. This of course required Azkillon to make deals with beings he would have preferred to keep at arm's length.
"Charming décor around here," lo and behold, here was one of them. A voluptuous redheaded beauty dressed in a skimpy outfit that would not look out of place on a roleplaying prostitute or a cosplayer.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Circe," Azkillon greeted politely, even though he would much rather cast this harlot into the Warp. The infuriating smile that came to her face only reinforced that desire.
"The pleasure is all yours Sorcerer. Now, what business do you have with the Goddess of Magic?" she proclaimed haughtily. Azkillon at that point was very thankful for his literal millennia of experience with lies and manipulation, else he would not have been able to contain himself from falling over laughing. 'Be thankful Tzeentch isn't here to hear you say that,'
"Merely a proposition. I represent a powerful force interested in moving in on this world, and they are looking for powerful partners to help shape a new world order," Azkillon explained. It obviously caught Circe's interest as she leaned forward, exposing a fair amount of cleavage. Had Azkillon been a lesser mortal, he might have been tempted.
"Do tell," she purred in interest.
Far too much open space, that was Krieg's assessment of Luthor's suite. Far too many options for an assassin to strike and far too few ways of protecting oneself. Which was why he refused to let his guard down for even a second, even the Prime Minister of South Rhelasia came for some private talk with Luthor. Always be vigilant, for you could never know where the enemy could be hiding. Now that he thought about it, that sounded a lot like what an Inquisitor would say.
"Prime Minister Tseng, glad you could come," Luthor welcomed him with a charming smile and a friendly handshake.
"Thank you for this invitation, though I must question your choice of allowing HIM to remain," it took a moment for Krieg to realize that the Prime Minister was talking about him, and that he was even now glaring at Krieg in mistrust. Where had that come from?
"I can assure you, Krieg is very skilled at what he does. There are few others I would trust my security to," Luthor assured Tseng, who did not look the least bit convinced.
"Be that as it may, I have heard some very disturbing rumors about his conduct back in the States, and I do not feel comfortable trusting my life to someone like him," he revealed, still glaring at Krieg in mistrust. Was this what Rachel had warned him about? Not that it mattered in the end to Krieg. Let Tseng believe whatever he wanted, just as long as he stayed out of his way.
"While I am unfamiliar with what kind of rumors you have heard, you have my guarantee that Krieg is no danger to us," Luthor tried to placate. While Tseng still looked upon him with suspicion, he seemed to accept Luthor's words and so took a seat and began his discussion with the billionaire. At that point, Krieg simply tuned them out as he kept up his silent vigil. Whatever the two talked about, it no longer concerned him. About an hour later, Tseng left, looking highly dissatisfied for one reason or another 'Politicians,'
"Apologies for the reception, Krieg. Had I known about Tseng's attitude towards you, I would have rescheduled this meeting," Luthor suddenly spoke up. It caught Krieg off guard, but he merely shrugged his shoulders.
"Apologies are not required, Mr. Luthor. Tseng's opinions holds no relevance to me," he answered as Luthor poured himself a glass of what Krieg assumed to be alcohol.
"And yet you're willing to risk your life for him during this summit," Luthor continued to prod, taking a light sip.
"Tseng is merely a means to an end here, namely preventing a wasteful war between humans," Krieg elaborated, which brought a smile to Luthor's lips along with a raised eyebrow.
"A means to an end? Does that include me as well?" he asked in good humor.
"Yes," was Krieg's blunt answer. Yet that answer did not seem to anger Luthor. If anything, it seemed to amuse him as a light chuckle came out of him.
"Quite a ruthless fellow, aren't you?" he remarked.
"I'm a soldier, I care only about getting results," Krieg retorted.
"Ah, yes, and those results being to stop a wasteful war," Luthor repeated. "I must admit, I find it a strange choice of words to describe the situation,"
"Just because it's strange, doesn't mean it's not true," Krieg was quick to point out, which caught Luthor's interest.
"Oh?"
"Human fighting human, throwing their lives and resources away for a few scraps of land, it's all one big waste when they should focus their attention to humanity's true enemies," Krieg had no idea why he spoke so freely about a subject he had kept quiet about for so long. But in some strange way, it felt good to simply admit his views so openly.
"And who are these enemies?" Luthor asked, hiding a very knowledgeable smirk behind his glass.
"The xeno, the traitor, the mutant, the abhuman, anyone that would threaten our sovereignty," Krieg proclaimed, glaring off at a point that no one but he could see.
"Really? Forgive me if this comes off as insulting, but isn't that view a bit hypocritical considering you're working with the Justice League, an organization known for containing xenos and what many would argue to be mutants and abhumans," Luthor suddenly pointed out, and Krieg visibly stiffened at his words, his head slowly turning to glare at the billionaire.
"A temporary situation that I hope to rectify in the future," Krieg stated, his tone daring Luthor to speak any further on the matter. He did not, for it was in that matter that Red Arrow entered. Battered, bruised and soaking wet, with a look like he had just been forced to swallow a particularly bitter lemon.
"We may have a slight problem," he began, and immediately Krieg could tell that this would be quite a headache for him.
Yep, this was most definitively a massive headache for him. Not only did he have to tolerate Red Arrow's presence right next to him as they guarded Luthor, not only did he have stand by and do nothing as the assassin Cheshire just walked right into the room without resistance, but he also had to endure his superior officer's presence as well. Even separated by a horde of reporters and security, Krieg could still feel Aqualad's disapproving glare burning into him. It was an annoyance, one he had no choice but to endure in silence. In a way, he was almost relieved when they sprung their trap, Aqualad shielding them from Cheshire's bomb whilst he and Red Arrow placed themselves before the dignitaries with weapons drawn.
"It's over, Cheshire," Red Arrow shouted as he aimed an arrow at her.
"You would think so," Cheshire remarked, right before a helicopter appeared at her back, filled to the brim with League of Shadows operatives and with Sportsmaster at their head. And why did everyone with a mask have to glare at him like that? It was getting on his nerves. But those thoughts were secondary to other concerns, like the massive brawl that just erupted as security fought the assailants. Red Arrow was quick to leap into the fray, but Krieg held his position in front of the table, shotgun in hand and ready to deal with anyone that managed to slip past. Lo and behold, there was one right now. A rubber bullet to the forehead stopped him dead in his tracks. Oh, a second one? One to the crotch, and one to the chest put him down as well. This was almost like playing Whack-A-Mole. As soon as that thought came to him, Krieg violently shook his head to expunge that thought.
"Accursed team and their accursed distractions," he muttered to himself as he sidestepped a Shadow operative and almost nonchalantly gave him a knuckle sandwich straight to the chin before a kick between the legs and a chop to the neck put him down for good.
"Behind you!" someone suddenly shouted, and Krieg acted in pure instinct as he dived to the side, barely avoiding being impaled on a pair of swords. It did not take long for Krieg to deduce the attacker's identity.
"You again," he spat out as he opened fire on Ravager, who was already in motion before the first bullet was even airborne. Three shots were away, all misses, and then his shotgun was in two pieces.
"Nice to see you too, soldier boy," Ravager finally replied as she gave him a kick to the stomach that knocked him into the table. "I'd really love to chat some more, catch up on old times and have a little fun, but I'm on a timetable here and don't have all day. Sorry," that was the only warning he got before a sword came down towards his head. Rolling to the side, he came back on his knees with kukri in hand and charged. Ravager blocked the first strike at her head and took a knee to the side before a fist knocked her back. Undeterred, she was back in with a flurry of sword strikes that forced Krieg to backpedal lest he become a head shorter.
Then without warning, he crouched low and leaped forward as Ravager's blades passed where his throat used to be, smashing his helmeted head into her guts as his kukri became buried in her thigh. Even as her back slammed into the table, all air knocked right out of her, she did little more than grunt as she banged the pommels of her swords into Krieg's back. But he just gripped her midriff tightly before hauling her off her feet and falling backwards, slamming her face-first into the floor. Then he rolled over and leaped back to his feet, lining up a kick that Ravager rolled under.
Then she was on her feet as well, only one sword in hand that she aimed at his stomach. He sidestepped the thrust before countering with a blow to the head that she dodged. Too late did she see the hand going for the kukri still in her thigh, yanking it out in a spray of blood before it was jabbed at her stomach. Quick as a viper, her free hand came forward to grip Krieg's wrist, halting the blade less than an inch away. But then a headbutt came to her face, courtesy of Krieg's helmeted head, that sent her stumbling back.
"Annoying pest," Krieg growled as he advanced towards the still dazed Ravager, dodging a clumsy swing as his kukri came to slash the attacking wrist open. Ravager quickly lost the grip on her last sword, and Krieg pounced on her. He furiously slashed at her, forcing her steadily back as she tried to stay out of the blade's reach. Then Krieg overextended, and Ravager leaped forward before he could recover. Quicker than expected, she was behind him, arms tightly wrapped around his throat and squeezing for all they were worth.
"Can't remember the last time a boy got me this fired up," she whispered in his ear, her wicked smile revealing blood-stained teeth.
"Schgghaubt uugghp," Krieg barely managed to force out of his restricted throat.
"What's that? You mind speaking up, I couldn't quite hear you," Ravager mocked, right before Krieg clamped down on her arm and activated his shock glove. Krieg had to admit, there was an odd satisfaction to be found in how she screamed in agony as thousands volts of electricity was pumped into her. Releasing the charge, Krieg gave the barely responsive Ravager an elbow to the gut that dislodged her, then he had her head in his grasp as he dragged her forward like a sentient bag. Before her frazzled mind could figure out his intention, he head was slammed straight into a pillar. And when it inevitably bounced back from hitting the solid object, Krieg's vice-like grip was there to smash it back into the pillar. Then he dragged her head back and slammed it forward again. Drawing back, slamming forward. Drawing back, slamming forward. Drawing back, slamming forward. Again and again did Krieg ram Ravager's head into the pillar, months of anger and frustration let loose in a splattering of blood and teeth.
Finally, with a last blow, Krieg let his grip slip, and Ravager promptly fell to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, her face a ruined mess and a single spot on the pillar painted a new shade of red. Turning his attention to the rest of the battle, he found it to still be a chaotic mess. And it got even more chaotic when an explosion overhead triggered the sprinkler system, drenching every man and woman present from head to toe. 'Really? What was the point of that?' he got his answer when a ginormous water dragon rose up and started cleaning house, quite literally in this case. 'Right, forgot about the accursed abhuman,' but something must have gone wrong, for suddenly there was a great explosion that destroyed the dragon and engulfed most of the room in smoke. Then, out of the smoke, a lone assassin leaped out, heading straight for Luthor.
"Damn it!" Krieg cursed as he rushed to stop the assailant, even as he knew he would never make it in time. Turned out that he did not need to, for Mercy raised her right arm, which suddenly opened up to reveal a gun hidden within. One discharge from said gun, and the assassin was knocked out cold. Deeming the threat neutralized, Krieg turned to locate new ones. He found none. All the regular Shadow operatives were knocked out, whilst Cheshire and Sportsmaster were missing. And as it turned out, so was Ravager. 'Should have broken her spine to ensure her capture,'
It was over. The treaty had been signed by both parties, peace between north and south was secured, and reunification looked like a possibility now. And from what he had pieced together about how the League of Shadows operated, then this meant that their contract was no longer in effect, so his mission was finally done. The only reason he lingered, standing well on the sidelines and away from where all the cameras were aimed at, was to verify that no lingering assassins tried a last minute attack, however unlikely that was. As it turned out, there was no need for his presence, as the final letter was written down to polite applause and a barrage of questions. And Luthor soaked up all the praise and attention like a sponge. Oh well, as long as Krieg did not have to deal with it. Now, as he turned to slink away and head back to Los Angeles, Krieg pondered what he would do about Aqualad. No doubt the abhuman would demand an explanation for his unauthorized actions.
"Thank you all, but it would be remiss of me to take all the glory for this moment. After all, if not for the courageous actions of Krieg here, I doubt any of this would have been possible," it took Krieg a second or two to register that someone had spoken his name out loud, and it took a few extra seconds to realize that someone was Luthor. Turning back to the main stage, he found Luthor smiling at him with a hand grandiosely gesturing at his direction, and every single camera pointed squarely at him. 'What the…'
"No need to hide in the shadows like that, my boy," Luthor encouraged as he gestured for Krieg to join him. Dazed, confused, and with no idea what the hell was going on, Krieg hesitantly stepped forward, almost being blinded by the barrage of flashes that recorded every step he took.
"I never had a chance to properly thank you earlier. Without your protection, I would have surely been a dead man," Luthor continued to praise him as he came to stop before the billionaire, his mind still ten steps behind current events.
"I was merely doing my duty, sir," was all he could think of saying.
"Modesty is a good aspect to have, but you should not let it diminish your achievements. Even when the Justice League deemed this event to be beneath their concerns, you still dared to stand up for what was right, even if it meant going up against the likes of Cheshire and Ravager, two of the most infamous assassins in the world," and yet Luthor just continued to heap praise on him, completely overwhelming the clueless Krieg. And Krieg tried his best to back out of this before it went on any further.
"This is really not necessary, Mr. Luthor, I was merely-" but Luthor was having none of that as a firm hand came to rest on Krieg's shoulder.
"Please, call me Lex. You've saved my life three times now, and you've earned my trust and friendship. While I'm sure you have many other duties to uphold, know that LexCorp will always support you," as he said this, Luthor's free hand managed to grasp onto Krieg's opposite hand to give it firm, and very much visible handshake. Krieg completely lost his eyesight for a few seconds from the subsequent camera assault. Now, Krieg would freely admit that he was no politician. He was a soldier down to the bone, he understood things like battle, weapons, fighting styles, ammunition, and whatever else it took to kill the enemy. He knew squat about things like propaganda, PR, and the importance of a public image.
As such, he could be forgiven for missing the obvious. However, he was still aware enough to question Luthor's actions. For instance, why did Luthor feel the need to blow Krieg's actions so out of proportion? And more importantly, why did he have to make his declaration of friendship so loudly, as if he wanted everyone to hear it, and in front of such a massive gathering of reporters? Krieg had no answer to these questions, but he did know one thing with absolute certainty.
'Batman is not going to be pleased,'
"So how did it go?" an irate Ravager asked, mask discarded as she pressed an ice pack against her pounding and bloodstained skull. 'Damn could that kid be vicious when he wanted to be,'
"It went perfectly. Luthor's demonstration helped prove my case to the rest of the Light, and they are open to the possibility of adding Krieg to the fold," her currently least favorite person in existence answered, to which Ravager gave him a dull stare.
"But?" she pressed.
"But they also added that if the boy gets in the way during future operations, they would not be held accountable if he perishes. Klarion was particularly pleased with that," that admission had Ravager leaning back in her seat with an annoyed groan.
"He better not go and die on me now, dad, no after the shit I just went through," she grumbled in annoyance, fingers massaging her ruined face. It was already healing quite nicely, and would probably be as good as new come morning, but she would probably be sore for a while.
"You seem a bit upset," Deathstroke remarked. And for his sake, he had better meant that in jest.
"Damn right I am. If there's one thing I hate more than losing, it's losing on purpose," she grumbled at him.
"A necessary sacrifice in this case, to help boost his reputation," Deathstroke calmly explained, to which Ravager gave him a deadpan look.
"If you're so concerned about his damn rep, why didn't you go out there and take a fall for him?" she questioned in irritation.
"Because I have my own reputation to uphold, and I can't have it ruined by getting beaten by a mere punk," Deathstroke stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He got the stink eye from Ravager.
"What am I? Chopped liver?" she asked, annoyance rolling off of her. But Deathstroke did not bother to reply, turning to leave instead.
"You know…" but Ravager's next words stopped him before he could reach the door. "… I often see you as the ruthless gun for hire, that I frequently forget that you can be quite the scary chessmaster when you want to be," Deathstroke said nothing, but he fact he still lingered indicated he was listening.
"Krieg is just a means to an end to you, isn't he?" and that question had him turn to fully face his daughter again.
"A strange accusation coming from you. I thought you of all people was aware of my desire for an apprentice," he pointed out.
"But if an apprentice was all you wanted, you could have easily found a suitable candidate among the hundreds or so goons loitering around our employers, or draw inspiration from Aladdin and go looking for the diamond in the rough among the countless orphans and street urchins that pollute the Earth from one end to the other. But instead, you picked a vigilante working with the Justice League, a fucking hero," Ravager swiftly pointed out. Deathstroke still said nothing to defend himself, but the way he seemed to straighten up indicated she had definitively hit close to home.
"Assuming that this interesting theory of yours is correct, what would I hope to benefit from it?" there was no anger or mockery in his tone, just an even tone of voice. Ravager easily recognized it from her time under daddy's tutelage, it was the tone he used whenever he was testing her.
"Ever since you got dragged into this whole Light business, you've been a bit jealous of the head honchos, the way they sit up there in their lofty towers giving orders like kings. You want a seat at their table, to be seen as an equal to these people. Problem is, however, you've got nothing to offer them that an army of hired thugs can't give them. You might be the best in the business with what you do, but that means little to men and women that can command armies," here, a cruel grin split Ravager's face. "But what if you could provide them with something they didn't have? What if you could prove that you've got the balls and the skill to make a hero go all Dark Side on his former allies? That would certainly boost your cred among the big guys. Definitively not enough to catapult you to the stop spot right away, but enough to get noticed as more than just another hired thug," there was then silence between them, Ravager smugly leaning back in her seat and Deathstroke remaining as unmoving as a statue.
"I sometimes forget there's more than just brawn to you," Deathstroke finally admitted, to Ravager's great delight. Not every day you managed to weasel a compliment from the Terminator himself, even a backhanded one.
"I learned from the best. But I gotta admit, your little scheme is quite the risky one. 'Cause if Krieg decides to give you the middle finger in the end, then you'll be the laughing stock of the Light, ridiculed for getting upstaged by a no-name rookie hero," she pointed out, but Deathstroke merely scoffed at her.
"Please, if the risk was too great, I would have never attempted it. Krieg will see the benefit of my offer, and he will chose it," he stated with absolute certainty, so much so that it even surprised Ravager.
"Awfully confident there, dad," she remarked.
"With good reason. The Justice League may like to pretend otherwise, but I know who Krieg really is, what he really is. He's not a hero, never was and never will be, regardless of what the world think. He's a soldier, fighting a war he doesn't fully understand. He may dance to the tune of the Justice League for now, but sooner or later, he'll see the futility of it all. He'll see that he has no place among men who fancies themselves god, that their clashing world views will never coincide. And after that, it can only end one way for him. He will leave the League, and I'll be there, waiting for him," Deathstroke calmly explained, his lone eye lost in a future only he could see.
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