"I really should have called Batman too. Then all three of Ra's al Ghul's would-be successors would be here, right?" Jack Kadere chuckled to himself as he watched Green Arrow and Malcolm Merlyn exchange a brief look before separating in silent agreement.
Green Arrow, Merlyn, and even Batman had all been tied to the League of Assassins at one point or another.
The League's immortal master, Ra's al Ghul, had lived for centuries thanks to the Lazarus Pit. Obsessed with finding a worthy heir, he ignored his own daughter Talia and sought successors elsewhere. First, he turned to Batman—who outright rejected him. Then he turned to Oliver Queen, who, though reluctant, briefly took on the mantle before walking away. As for Malcolm Merlyn? He desperately wanted the title, but Ra's dismissed him. Even though Merlyn eventually seized control of the League, his reign was short-lived.
"If Ra's al Ghul himself came after me, I might be interested. But the two of you?" Jack smirked as he rose to his feet. "There's no fun in bullying small fry."
A crackle of red lightning surged through the restaurant. A moment later, Jack appeared at Thea Queen's side, slipping an arm around her waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Let Thea go!" Merlyn roared.
It was galling to watch his daughter so casually taken from under his nose, especially after only recently learning the truth of their relationship. Jack's arrogance only deepened the sting.
Merlyn's bow was in his hands in an instant, the string drawn back tight. All around, League assassins rushed forward with blades drawn.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The assassins didn't even make it halfway before detonations ripped through their ranks. Bodies fell in broken heaps, the floor painted in blood.
Jack stopped at the doorway, casually glancing over his shoulder.
Oliver Queen, recognizing the futility, dropped his bow before things could escalate further. But Merlyn—stubborn and prideful—kept his arrow trained on Jack.
With a chuckle, Jack snapped his fingers.
Merlyn's arrow glowed faintly in his grip. His eyes went wide, realizing too late.
Bang!
The arrow exploded, throwing him violently across the room.
"Let's go," Jack said simply. In a flash of crimson lightning, he vanished from the restaurant with Thea in his arms.
The aftermath was carnage. Shattered tables, smoke hanging heavy in the air, and the bodies of assassins strewn about. Oliver looked at Merlyn's crumpled form lying in blood. He wanted nothing more than to hunt Jack down, but deep down, he knew Jack had told the truth about Merlyn's guilt. His father's death, the notebook that started it all—Malcolm Merlyn was the shadow behind them.
Though his rage burned, Oliver turned his back, leaving Merlyn groaning on the ground as he walked away from the wreckage.
....
Back at the hotel, Thea was still shaken, her thoughts racing with what had just unfolded. She opened her mouth to speak—only to freeze.
A crossbow bolt hissed through the air straight toward Jack.
Thea gasped. "Jack, look out!"
She shoved at him instinctively, panic written all over her face.
But Jack's Copy ability worked differently than she realized. Anyone who attacked him directly triggered a subtle warning in his senses, allowing him to react instantly. By the time Thea touched him, Jack had already moved. He caught her with one arm while his other hand snapped up to intercept the bolt.
Crack!
The metal shaft stopped cold in his grip.
Catching the crossbow bolt cleanly in his palm, Jack Kadere smirked at the woman across the room. Dressed in her familiar purple uniform, her crossbow still raised and her single eye glaring behind the eyepatch, she was unmistakable.
"Well, Helena," Jack said smoothly, twirling the captured bolt between his fingers. "How did you manage to track me here?"
The Huntress didn't bother answering. She gave a sharp snort and let another volley fly.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
The bolts hissed through the air, but Jack's hands moved like afterimages, a blur of speed. Moments later, the clatter of metal rang out as the spent projectiles fell uselessly to the floor at his feet.
"You should know better than this," Jack chuckled, his voice almost teasing. "Crossbow bolts aren't going to kill me, Helena."
Helena Bertinelli—better known as the Huntress—growled in frustration. With a sharp motion, she discarded the crossbow, pulling a collapsible staff from her belt. With a twist, it extended to full length, and she rushed him head-on.
Jack only shook his head. A spark of crimson lightning flared around him, and in less than a heartbeat the fight was over.
Helena suddenly found herself sitting in a chair, her wrists bound firmly behind her. Her weapons and uniform lay neatly folded to the side. Her eyes widened in shock before narrowing into a furious glare.
Thea Queen, standing to the side, gasped aloud. "Wait—you're the Huntress? Helena Bertinelli?!"
She had heard the name whispered plenty of times back in Starling City. A vigilante with a reputation for brutal efficiency. But she had never once expected the Huntress to be the daughter of Frank Bertinelli—the notorious mob boss who had terrorized the city. Thea remembered the rumors: after Frank's downfall, his daughter became obsessed with destroying everything he built. But this was the first time she saw the truth of it with her own eyes.
Helena didn't deny it. She just glared, silent fury burning in her expression.
Jack leaned back casually on the edge of the bed, studying her. "I get it—you hate me. I ruined some of your plans. But let's not forget, Helena… you're the one who tricked me first. I told you I'd let you taste despair with hope mixed in. I'm simply keeping my word."
"You smug bastard," Helena spat, her tone like ice. "I'll kill you for this."
"Or," Jack countered smoothly, "we could make a deal." His tone was light, almost playful. "Starling City is about to have its hands full. Canary's got her own task to handle, and chaos has a way of creating opportunities. You could use this to finally take care of the unfinished business with your father."
Helena's expression flickered, though her voice stayed cold. "And if I refuse?"
"Then I'll make sure Frank Bertinelli disappears. Permanently. You'll never find him." Jack shrugged. "Your choice."
Helena was silent for a long moment. Finally, she exhaled sharply. "…What do you want?"
"Nothing too heavy," Jack said with a grin. "Just one condition. Let me take a few photos."
Thea blinked in disbelief. "Photos? That's it?"
"Untie her," Jack instructed, ignoring the younger Queen's confusion.
Thea hesitated before reluctantly picking up one of Helena's blades to cut the ropes. As soon as Helena's wrists were free, she rolled her shoulders, giving Thea a withering glare.
"You should be careful," Helena warned her sharply. "He knows how to manipulate women. Doesn't matter how strong they are—he twists them until they end up serving him."
Jack smirked. "Does that warning include you, Helena?"
Her lips curled into a bitter smile. "I'm talking about the Birds of Prey."
That got Thea's attention immediately. "The Birds of Prey? Wait—you were with them?!" She stared at Jack, half in awe. "You've even tangled with them? You're… you're more insane than Oliver!"
Jack only laughed, brushing off the compliment with mock modesty. "Just so-so." With a flicker of red lightning, he set up the space and gestured toward the corner.
Helena gave Thea a sarcastic little wave before rolling her eyes and moving into place, striking a series of stiff, resentful poses as Jack directed.
When the impromptu photo session ended, Helena gathered her gear, clearly intending to leave. But Jack stepped into her path, his expression softening slightly.
"I know what you've been through," he said quietly. "Losing your family. Living with betrayal. Carrying that weight every day."
Helena froze, her eye narrowing. "What are you trying to say?"
Jack didn't answer with words. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice low and even. "That you don't have to carry it alone."
Then he lowered his head and kissed her.