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Hub City, 12:30 a.m.

Slade Wilson, a.k.a. “Deathstroke, the Terminator

Another day. Another death. Another dollar.

My father had always raised me to always appreciate the hard work you did. Every bead of sweat you broke was one more example of the effort you put in. Funny. Nowadays I barley break a sweat anymore. Guess I’ve gotten that much better.

As I take my spot on the roof I reassess the ease of this contract. Some idiot who managed to swindle money out from under the wrong noses. The kind of people who don’t tolerate any sort of act. The kind of people who make examples out of idiots like him. The kind of people who can afford someone like me. My kind of people.

He there’s. Just across from my position. Sitting away at his desk, none-the-wiser. Too easy. I’m already preparing my rifle and considering the variables. Not too windy. Means this can be as straight a shot as possible.

I still find it odd that I was paid so much just to kill one man. Seems too easy. But maybe that’s the trick. Maybe this dumbass isn’t so and he’s hired some extra muscle to keep himself safe. Good enough for me. I love a good challenge. Not that he’ll have time to see his money’s worth.

The rifle is ready. I line the shot right in the back of his skull. A moment pause. And….

BANG!

Right on point. Clean through the glass, the chair, the bone, and right out the other side. Simple and clean; well at least for me. Can’t say I’m envious of whoever will have to clean the chunks of…

Wait…. What the hell is…?

That’s not blood. That’s stuffing spilling out. The shot managed to spin the chair around. A dummy? Dammit! Now I feel like the idiot…

No sooner do I get up a stray shot manages to go right past me. I can feel it just graze the edge of my mask. Damn. Too close. I need to get out of here. Stay low. Don’t give them a decent target. Get to the other side and then rope my way down.

Managed to make it. But who the hell is it? H.I.V.E. maybe? A competitor? Won’t know for sure until I managed to get my ass out of the-

I can’t see how but something managed to cut my rope. Must’ve been thrown from nearby. I manage to direct myself towards the nearest window and crash through. My landing is…well not soft, that’s for sure.

I get to my feet. Sore. I’ll get over it. It’s too dark to see much and my helmet’s cracked. Hard enough to see with one eye the rest of your life, but trying to do it with a faulty lens is worse. That’ll have to wait. I can sense it. I’m not alone in here.

Time I let them know I know. “I haven’t got all night. So come on! Make this interesting.”

Sword and pistol drawn. I might not be able to see them by I can tell they’re close. That gut feeling you get; one of the best senses you can carry in life. One’s behind me. There’s another to my left. That’s right. Draw them in. Make them think I can’t tell until…

The one from the left comes at me first. They’re armed with a sword too. Ha! Excellent. They rush but I block. I fire a few rounds to where they disappear to. Can’t tell if I hit but no time to wonder. The one from behind comes in. He’s quick with his hands and feet. A trained martial artist. Got to keep fast.

Damn! One hit managed to knock my gun away. No point in playing nice then. I swing. He’s fast. Whoever hired these people knew to hire the experts. Too bad they thought they could mess with me.

They both come at me now. One blade versus two. To be fair I’ve had worse odds. I only wish I knew just who the hell I was up against. I cut one and manage to fake out the other, leaving him open for a nice clean thrust right through the gut. One down and one wounded.

The other one managed to slip away but at least now I have some idea as to who I’m fighting. The one I killed was a masked killer from Gotham. I recognize the outfit. Black Spider. Heard he’d been missing for a while. Everyone thought he was dead. Well they’re right now.

Whoever it is managed to hire people like me: mercenaries with extra talent. Maybe the one who shot as me was that punk, Lawton. Another one everyone thought was dead. Can’t tell who the one with the sword was. Could be any.

I can hear sirens. Dammit. Almost forgot that all of this commotion would get someone’s attention eventually. Need to get out of here. Fast! No point in going back up. I’ll just be a sitting duck up there. Guess the only way out is down.

The stairs are nearby. I can make my way out from there. Didn’t get a chance to see I was on the 15th floor when I crashed in. Not like they have numbers on the outside. I need to make my way to the basement levels. Should be easy to slip through from there and-

Dammit! Apparently they sent more than mercenaries after me. I managed to get to floor 10 before the door behind me explodes open thanks to….is that ice? They’ve sent metahumans now. Whoever they are they have a lot of pull and a lot of money.

Can’t tell who it is. Need to keep running. No time to look back. Endless Winter? One of those guys with the cold guns? Whoever they are they’re not a bad shot. One or two close calls before they manage to graze my shoulder. I can feel the chill even through the armor. Need to get to the bottom faster. Only one way…

A landing from five floors up isn’t fun. Even with the enhancements I’ve had since the experiment and I still feel my knees shudder. Still at least I’m far enough out of range, and the door to the sub-levels is right in front of me. Worth it.

Through the sub-levels I should be able to make my way into the sewers. It’ll be easier to lose them from there. Too many questions keep going through my head. Who are these people? Did they pay off the one who hired me? Maybe they’re one in the same and this is just a big plan to try and take me out. One thing’s for sure: I’m going to kill them when this is over.

Thank god for the mask. It might be broken but at least it keeps out most of the sewer smell. Most of it. One of the tunnels likely leads to the river. My ride isn’t too far from there. Simple. Easy. I’d say clean but when running through a sewer it’s-

Dammit, not again! They had someone down here waiting for me too. I managed to trip over them on my way through. I fall but get to my feet. All the sludge and whatever else you’d find in a place like this is all over the mask. Time to lose it. No point in keeping my face protected now. I need to see anything and everything. And boy, do I see everything now…

Too dark to see what it is but’s it’s a big one. A lot taller than I’d thought. Killer Croc maybe? Or that walking zombie, Grundy. Either way a few bullets will solve the issue. Good thing I always carry a spare pistol for emergencies.

I only fire a few rounds before its clear whatever it is isn’t shy to bullets. They bounce off like cotton balls. Well….crap. He gets a good swing in. One good smack and I go flying back.

Not until I’m picking myself up from the sewage water do I get it now: this was what they wanted. They forced me down here like a rabbit for the hunt. Even now I feel I’d congratulate them. But they haven’t gotten me yet.

One thing I can always account for is my preparation. Bullets can’t hurt whatever this hulking piece of crap is but a few grenades should do the trick. I have my back turned and wait until he gets closer and then SURPRISE!

“Chew on this!” I yell before trying to out run the blast.

I get far but not as far as I wanted. The blast still manages to send me off my feet. But I’m sure it’s done far worse to whoever I tossed them at. I hit the ground hard and I can feel my right arm shot. Damn. Not how I wanted things to go tonight.

No time to cry over a few sores, old bastard. Time to keep moving. Need to get out of here. Need to get away.

I’m still not sure who’s behind all of this. Definitely not the Bat or any of those other so-called heroes. Not their style. H.I.V.E.? Checkmate? S.H.A.D.E.? I’ve killed plenty of agents from either side to make enemies out of them. After all I’m just a hired gun; no such thing as allegiances for me. Who the hell…?

More like “what the hell”?

There’s a….jack-in-the-box? In the middle of a damn sewer? Is this some sort of joke? Or…it could be just another trap. It’s already winding down. No time to diffuse if it’s a bomb. This could be it for…

It goes off. I brace myself! Nothing… There’s just a puppet with a sign saying “Got you!” scribbled onto it.

Aw hell…

Didn’t have time to realize it. It was a distraction. They got me. A good hit to the back of the head. I hit the ground. Hard. Everything dizzy…. Everything….going dark….

“You’ve just be terminated, big guy. Ha ha ha.”

I know….that….voice…..

**********

The first thing I feel is my head. It still hurts like a sonofabitch. God…dammit! Where the hell am I anyway?

I’m alone in a cell. No weapons. Not even my gear. Just a prison jumpsuit. The place is clear and clean. Hard fiber glass. One cot. No windows. Underground then. I look out and see it’s in a hallway. Just blank wall in front of me but likely more cells to either side where I can’t see.

This isn’t H.I.V.E. or any of the others. This is too professional. This….is a lot worse than I feared.

I can hear someone coming. The door to whatever prison wing this is opens and I count at least three sets of feet coming this way. One’s wearing heels. Aw hell. It’s not…

They finally come into view. Two prison guards. Heavily armed and protected ones too. And then I see it. It is….it’s her…

“Waller.” I speak to her once she’s right in front of my cell. “Last time I saw you was ten years ago. And about ten pounds lighter.”

“Good to see you’ve grown a sense of humor along with those grey hairs, Wilson.”

“So, A.R.G.U.S. That’s who’s behind all of this. You’re in charge now?”

“A lot’s changed since you left, Slade. This was what Eiling warned you about before you decided to start using your talents to serve yourself instead of your country.”

Even after all this time she still has that attitude of hers. I knew it would get her to the top eventually. Didn’t think she’d make it this far though. With her in charge of A.R.G.U.S. I’m a little shocked the whole place hadn’t torn itself apart from the inside. Guess I should’ve had more faith in her.

“So where the hell am I? Belle Reve?”

“The REAL Belle Reve.” She tells me. “A good forty feet below surface level in our more secured facilities for inmates like you.”

“Yeah? Was that who you sent after me? Some attack dogs of yours? I didn’t think you were in the habit of letting known criminals do your dirty work. You usually left that for professionals. Like me.”

She gives me that ‘better than you’ look and replies “Like I said. A lot’s changed. Which brings me to why I’ve bothered to keep you around.” She shows me a file that has my information, probably something they still had after I left. It’s this part where she tells me “In recent years we’re chosen to reinstate the once terminated ‘Task Force X’ program.”

“You’re serious?” I just have to ask; given what I remember about the program. “Didn’t that die out with Rick Flag and the rest of his team back in the 70’s? Hell, even I thought it was an insane idea. Throwing good lives away on suicide missions.”

“So did I. Which is why I’ve recently ‘enlisted’ those whose lives aren’t as valuable.”

Hearing that it dawns on me “Ah. The ones you sent after me. Spider. Deadshot and whoever the rest were.” Now I can’t help but laugh “And you sent them after me. Ha! Smart move.”

“Just as I thought.”

“So now what? You brought me all the way here to try and convince me to join your special task force? Fat chance, Waller. No pun intended.”

“Funny. But you did kill one of my agents when they tried taking you in. I think it only fair you fill the position. Unless you prefer things get messy.”

“You’ve got nothing on me to use. You know me better than that, Waller. I’ve had years of training. Whatever torture you’ve used on the others I can take ten times over. And don’t even try to use the family angel on me. You know my children are protected. The ones still alive at least.”

She still has that damn smirk on her face and then she tells me “Trust me, Wilson, I wouldn’t even bother. That’s why I’ve taken the liberty of already installing the small explosive I put in the other members in you.”

She can’t be serious? Wait… The back of my neck! I thought it itched. I reach back and can feel freshly stitched scarring. Dammit! She’s thought of everything.

“Now let me make this clear to you, Wilson. As of this moment you’re no longer a hired gun. You’re ass belongs to A.R.G.U.S. To me. From now on the only contracts you take will be mine. The only orders given will come from me. Fail to get that message, try to run away, hell, even give me a look I don’t like or an answer I don’t want to hear and the last thing anyone will remember about the infamous Deathstroke is how funny he looked without a head. Got that straight, convict?”

I’d hate to make her ego any bigger than her waistline but she’s right. I’ve got no choice. And here I’m starting to miss when people like her would just chase me down for the sake of killing me.

“So what’s the compensation?” I ask, knowing there has to be something out of this.

“Aside from keeping you’re less than worthless life? Ten years of your record and any further sentences per every accomplished mission. And with the all the red on your sheet, you’ll be at this for a while.”

With probably the deepest sigh I’ve ever given in my life I admit “Then I guess I’m yours, Waller. But don’t think this won’t come back to haunt you. Understand? I’m going to break out eventually. I’ll figure out your explosives and when I do, then you and I will have a lot of catching up to do.”

Still she smirks at me and says “I’ll be waiting for that day, Wilson.” She turns to leave but finishes with “Until then…welcome to the Suicide Squad.”

My father had raised me to appreciate the hard work you did. Every bead of sweat you broke was one more example of the effort you put in. Funny. After that talk with Waller I’m doing a lot of sweating right now…