Of Owls and Hats

by Malcolm Merlyn

A Mercenary's payday

From above the apartment building, the assassin sat on the roof with his partner. His sharp eyesight scanned the entire perimeter as he looked over the picture again. He gave a nod to indicate that he had found nothing. His partner, a woman with red, curly hair nodded in acknowledgement as she also gave him a negative. The man nodded to her again as he gave a small frown. Taking off his shades, the pair of them made their way to ground level.

"Snow." Clint Barton commented as he walked with his friend and Partner, Natalia Romanoff through the streets. The cars passing by paid them no mind. "Hum. No sign of this guy in an hundred mile radius."

"You can expect that with all assassins. They're good at disappearing off the grid." Black Widow commented as the two of them turned a corner. "Let's see... how many more addresses to go?"

"A lot." Hawkeye replied as he looked at his notebook. "Cap gave us a good list of where this Slade Wilson Character might be. The only issue was, he never mentioned this guy was really good at staying off the grid."

"I think that was partially implied when he mentioned "assassin"." Black Widow sighed. "You got any ideas?"

"I actually think I do." Hawkeye said as he looked over at the intel again. "Some of the less respectable citizens of this city seem to hang out there. I think that would be a place to start if we're looking for one of the most expensively paid assassin's in this place."

"How far?"

"It'll be dark when we get there." Clint commented as he looked up at he falling snowflakes. "Let's go Nat. If this mission is half as important as Steve says it is, then we best hurry up." Now when I say "place" I actually mean breaking into his house."

"Don't you think that's sort of a bad idea?"

"Not just sort of. A really bad idea. But we've been looking for him for three days now, and every day wasted is going to be closer and closer to some maniac finishing whatever doomsday machine he's planning. Steve's words, not mine."

"Alright Clint, we'll get to this guy's house. But you know... I don't think it'd such a good idea to get on the bad side of some master assassin."

"It'll be fine. Besides. If grandpa tries anything stupid, I'll send him to the senior's citizen's home missing TWO eyes." Barton replied. Joking. That's something you didn't see everyday.

I'll make this cold, clean and painless.

Cold? Certainly.

Clean. Depends on how he was feeling.

Painless? Most definitely not.

The outskirts of Gotham had a nasty reputation. A certain night many years ago, a boy's family was murdered. About eight years ago, there had been a psychotic clown who had destroyed a hospital. Said clown was thrown into mental asylum, jail, prison, maximum security and the infamous Arkham Asylum (in no particular order) yet still SOMEHOW manages to breakout and cause havoc all across the city.

Today, Slade wasn't dealing with the guy in the bat costume or the clown. If it had been the guy in the bat costume, he definitely would have doing this on his own time. If it had been the clown, he better receive a better payment then what he was getting.

The target was another assassin. Perhaps not as good as Slade, but still a top of the food-chain killer that had drawn the attention of Amanda Waller. The elusive Russian had managed to disappear off the grid for an amazing thirteen months from ARGUS, but finally, sources had stated he was in Gotham City. Why? Who cares? How? Who knows? What does this mean?

It means that Slade get's another payday sometime soon.

Anatoli Knyazev, or better know as "KGBeast" grinned wolfishly from under the snow of the early evening. In his hands was a small ball-shaped object which he tossed up and down in a similar fashion to players of the American game referred to as "Baseball". Foolish Americans. Always feeling so "safe". Mother Russia was always better than this rat's nest of a nation. With Putin once again retaking Crimea for the people, Mother Russia would be proud once more. Leaning outside of the warehouse, the Russian waited for his three men.

Of course, if Putin even as much as found out what Knyazev was planning, he probably would have told the US what was going on in a heartbeat. A surviving branch of the KGB had finally managed to locate their top agent. Their priority? Destroy those who would oppose the new Soviet socialist republic once it is reborn. Currently, that meant the USA.

"Where is Sasha?" Knyazev asked as the two other agents turned the corner.

"Don't know. Possibly drinking again. Stupid man is dumber than bullet."

"Well tell him to come here so I can beat his face in for being such a stinking pig!"

"No need to beat him. I already did that for you." Slade's voice announced as the two silenced bullets dispatched the two men besides Anatoli. "You're a wanted man, Anatoli. Surprisingly, they want you alive. Now then, we can do this two ways. We can do it the way I am going to hate, which is you come quietly. OR, we can do it the way I'll probably enjoy."

The elderly mercenary grabbed one of the AK-47s that the men had dropped, snapping the weapon in two for effect.

"Ah... Deathstroke." The heavy Russian accent spoke as he faced him. "Still a pet of the capitalist pigs still. You see, in Russia, I heard story. Story of man created by US army to fight the noble cause. I then hear that man kill many comrades in Vietnam and Korea. Worse yet, Deathstroke now doesn't even serve country. Just become capitalist pig like rest of men in his country."

"Sorry to disappoint you Anatoli, but stars and stripes were meant to win from the start. Maybe if your country gave better wages, I may have joined them." Slade retorted. "But let's face it. You're going to try to destroy Gotham, and I am not going to stop until I get paid. So enough talk. Let's fight."

"Good. I was getting tired of hearing old man speak about his filthy America!" With a grunt, the Russian threw himself forward. "I will cut off your head, and hang it up in KGB headquarters!"

"Too bad I was told not to kill you." Slade grumbled as he blocked the bayonet from reaching him in the face. The cybernetics clearly paid off when Slade found it troublesome to simply pick this dumb thug up and throw him at the nearest wall. Instead, he settled for headbutting him in the face, causing the Russian assassin to bleed profusely out of his nose. He retaliated by hitting Slade upside the shoulder with his cybernetic arm, causing the assassin to stumble but retaliating with a well-aimed staff swing to the legs.

Instead of knocking the big man off balance as he had hoped, the wily (and not stupid as bullet) assassin caught the steel pole-arm with his free arm. With a mighty throw, he managed to fling Deathstroke over his head and into the ground. Surprisingly, the moment Slade hit the ground, the staff was let-go. The ominous beating sound was heard just a bit too late as the bright flash consumed the Russian. The next thing he new was the flurry of fists hitting him like a hailstorm with one final punch to the face that left him on a knee while bleeding from the mouth. He backed up a bit, Deathstroke was old, but he was still as tough as wolf from Siberia.

"Had enough?!" Slade asked as he took out a combat knife. Kicking Anatoli again, the Russian rolled back. A slow grin slowly appearing across his face as they approached an opening within the warehouses. The kick that was followed by a snap signified a broken rib. Good...

Slade stepped straight out into the opening. There was the gunshot. And the sound of a body hitting the floor. When Anatoli looked up, he found that the old assassin was simply standing there, looking at him though missing his knife. He was saying something.

"Waller. KGBeast is all yours." He began as he reached into the Russian's pockets taking out the small ball-like object, proceeding to crush the bomb with his bare hands. There was something he had to see.

From the rooftop where a sniper had located himself, Slade crouched down to find the body with a hole in the chest. Taking a careful look at it, the assassin grinned mirthlessly as he took the bullet out.

Russian made bullet, WWII-era firearm. Judging from the trajectory it was fired by someone who was relatively short.

"I know you're there kid." Slade said calmly as he looked at the body. "Not a bad shot."

From behind the wall, the pair of girls emerged, one of them carrying a still smoking gun.

"Hello Aleksandra." Slade nodded as he took off his mask. "And you too Eila. Before you say anything, I have a question. What are you doing here?"

"It's a LOOOOONG story." Eila smirked. "How old are you again?"

"81." Slade replied, watching as Sanya gave Eila "the look" the moment she asked him what his age was. He didn't care, it's not like his age even showed. Unless where his silver-white hair was concerned. "Now then, it's a long story huh? Well, I do have the time for a long story. First things first, how did you find me?"

"Luck?" Eila scratched. "It's sort of hard to explain. But I'll just leave it at luck. But I am sure it was 51% skill."

Normally when someone spoke like this, Slade typically gave them the "I hate you already" kind of look. Much to what anyone may believe, it's rather difficult to angry at someone who looked just like one of your own children when they were younger. That didn't mean Slade "approved". Not that he had an opinion most of the time, especially when his job was to murder people.

"Here. Why don't we go to my safehouse, and we talk things over there?" Slade asked. His cellphone rang, causing him to give the two the "one minute" sign before answering.

"Waller." The assassin spoke impassively.

"Slade. I see you. You're on that building with that dead guy. Who are those children?"

"My grandkids." Slade replied quickly. "If you try anything..."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

The line went dead, much to the relief of the assassin. Waller didn't exactly make Slade nervous, but she did have unlimited resources which was bad news for anyone.

"Alright. Where was I?" Slade asked. "Let's go."

"This is a nice car." Sanya commented as she got in the back. "What's this?"

"Air conditioning. You probably don't have it yet, but it's been around. It let's you set the temperature." Slade pointed as he turned back. Surprisingly, in ten seconds flat, he somehow went from wearing his Deathstroke outfit into being dressed in a two-piece suit.

"How... how did you find the time to..."

"Don't question it. It'll make your head hurt less." Slade replied as he started the car. "Buckle up."

"What?"

"Buckle up."

"What... what's that?" Sanya asked as she looked around the car.

And right. The 1940s didn't exactly have seatbelts. Whatever.

"So. You also Russian Eila?" Slade asked as began to drive. His one eye paid attention to the road.

"Russian... that's Orussian right? No. I am Sumous. It's the country in the north that borders Orussia."

"We call that Finland here." Slade nodded as he stopped at the light. "When I was a boy, I wanted to fight in the war. Wasn't old enough. That's when Russia, or Orussia as you call it and the US went to the cold war. Got plenty of my share in the Korean and Vietnam wars."

"Orussia going to war with Liberion?"

"Liberion?"

"US."

"Oh. We just call it America."

"Just America? Really? Do people here have no imagination?"

"No imagination?" Slade asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I mean... who names their country after the continent? Did whoever make these countries have no time to make up at least a decent name?"

"South Africa and Australia? Tell that to them. Besides, I prefer the US over America." Slade continued. "So it's the USL over the USA huh? Well. Plus one for creativity I guess."

"Well... the Britannians didn't exactly think it through when they named their colony in northern America. They called it... Faraway land."

"Okay. And she accuses US of having no imagination." Slade chuckled. "How goes the war?"

"Good." Sanya said quickly. Evidently a subject she didn't want to speak about, a hint which Slade caught on quickly.

"I see. Alright. Now then. I have a feeling I know why you two are here..." Slade stopped as his car pulled into the house within the more pleasant areas of Gotham. "We can talk about it."

"Alright." Sanya smiled. "Just want to help."

"That's sweet." The mercenary began as he opened the garage door, pulling his car in. Opening the door, he let the two out as he got his keys. "Home sweet home."

"This isn't the same house from last time." Sanya commented.

"There were some... "issues" that forced me to move." Slade said as he stepped on in. A sudden breeze hit him in the face. "Sanya. Eila."

"Yes?"

"Something tells me those "issues" may have moved with me." The assassin began as he grabbed his gun.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Looks like this place has been broken in." The soft monotone of a man in an owl costume commented as he looked at the ruined structure's interior. "If I am not mistaken, this island had been settled. Or at least used. By people."

"And not some cartoon horses huh?" Superwoman commented as she helped move rubble. "We should clean this mess up."

"Indeed. This place will be ideal in beginning my... research. We can also begin production of our... contraband immediately once we fix this place. The local indigenous population should suffice to that."

"What do you mean?" The black hooded man asked with a smile. If this was going where he was thinking it was going...

"Normally, I'd send horses to the glue factory. You see, it appears the bodily fluids of these "ponies" can actually be used as a key ingredient in various drugs. Mainly, Mirakuru, Venom and Titan. We will begin production immediately. First, I think we should get a specimen."

"Then let me do that." Black Bowman smiled as he took up his bow.

"Very well Oliver. You gather our first specimen. While that... I have research. If elements of chaos do exist, I am intent on finding them. Unlimited power will soon be within our grasp. Adolf Hitler planned to rule the world under an iron fist. Let me show the failed dictator that I will rule a world by plunging into chaos."

And then, the new world order can be built. First chaos, then order.

But of course, if we do fail. I can always follow in the footsteps of myself. Destruction and total annihilation of all reality.

Ponyville may have noticed that somepony went missing that night. If it hadn't been the rather aggressive salebots they were getting.

Author's Note:

And here you got the other half of the cast.