#6 - Burn Out

#6 - Burn Out

Metropolis

"How much longer are we gonna be out here?" Diggle asked, frustrated at his partner for dragging him up to the fourth chilly rooftop tonight.

"Till we find some info," Roy mumbled, concentrating on something in the distance. He was decked out in his armor and weapons. Despite it being nighttime, he still wore his D.E.O. sunglasses, which made him look silly to anyone unaware of the night vision capabilities.

"We should have just waited for Lyla and Reese to finish digging into Zytle," Diggle said. He paced back and forth across the rooftop, his black leather coat insufficient at keeping him warm.

"You're free to go," Roy replied without looking back. "But they'll tell us when they're done. Until then, we do our own investigation. Might turn something up."

"By cracking some petty drug dealer skulls? What good is that going to do? We've already established that they keep the low level creeps in the dark. Lyla..."

"Lyla what?" Roy interrupted, turning back for the first time to look at his partner. "Who is she Dig? An old college fling?"

"It's personal," Diggle said in a cold tone.

"Just like all the personal stuff you know about me?" Roy accused. "Funny, I don't remember telling you about Grace. So you can snoop into my personal life and I know nothing about you?"

Roy turned back toward the street below. Diggle paced for another moment, before sighing and walking over to stand next to his partner. "'Snoop' huh? What are you, eighty?" Roy chuckled slightly.

"She wasn't my girlfriend," Diggle explained. "She was my wife." Roy whistled in response. "We met in Afghanistan. We ended up assigned to the same squad. We fell crazy in love, then...well shit happens. We got back to the states, I was dealing with some stuff and we drifted apart."

"Some stuff?"

"Don't push it," Diggle said with a straight face. "Looking back I think we both made mistakes. Me more than her. But it is what it is."

"There!"

Suddenly, Roy leapt off the side of the roof and onto the fire escape on the opposite building. He quickly climbed up to the roof of that building and was off running. It was an exhilarating feeling, one he hadn't felt for years. There was a freedom to traversing the rooftops of a city. An excitement to being above the world, with those below none the wiser to your presence.

"Harper, what's going on?"

"I'm after him!" was the only explanation Roy offered. "Just keep up as best you can."

Roy came to the end of a block and had nowhere to leap to. Instead he pulled an arrow from his quiver and fired it across the intersection to a building on the other side, a cable line attached. Securing it to a wall behind him, Roy slid down the line, twenty stories above the street.

"I'm on your signal," Diggle called over the radio. "What's going on?"

Roy ran across a couple more buildings before coming to a stop. He watched as a black car pulled up to the self storage building across the street. "Remember, I've done this kind of thing for years. I know where to find dealers. And it was just a matter of time until one of the suppliers showed up."

"You tracked one of the suppliers?" Diggle sounded surprised. "We should call this in. Get backup."

"I got this," Roy said, firing another line to cross over to the storage building's roof.

"Harper, wait for backup!"

"Please, taking down a drug lab is child's play. I was doing this when I was fifteen."

Roy headed down a fire escape until he reached a window on the tenth floor. Using a glass cutter, he unlocked the window and got inside. Tapping the settings on his glasses, he changed his night vision to thermal vision.

"I count eight people," Roy whispered. "Not a lab. They probably just store the drugs here offsite."

Walking slowly and quietly, Roy made his way down the hall toward the stairway. There was what looked like random guards on random floors, and four people gathered on the sixth floor.

When he reached the stairwell, Roy could see a heat signature two floors down, heading up. Opening the door as gently as possible, Roy went through and then waited for the other person to be directly below him. Grabbing the railing, Roy swung up, changed directions mid swing, and landed on the railing below.

A man with an assault rifle looked over, shock evident on his face. He recovered quickly and began to raise the assault rifle in his hands. Roy was faster. He dived off the railing, pushed the rifle aside with one hand and slammed his other elbow into the man's throat. The man doubled over, unable to breath, and Roy took him out with a hard strike to the back of his head.

"These guys are a piece of cake," Roy whispered to Diggle. "Drug dealers, not killers."

"I'm almost there," Diggle's voice was angry and frustrated. "Wait!"

After quickly securing the unconscious man, Roy headed for the sixth floor. He crept through the halls slowly, making sure he wouldn't tip off the four people gathered there. He could hear their voices faintly echo through the halls, but it was almost impossible to make anything out.

They almost certainly had guns. The hallway was tight. Roy couldn't reliably avoid shots and ricochets at the same time. So he pulled out a special arrow, knocked it, and leaned out just enough to fire it into the center of the group. It impacted the floor and erupted in thick smoke.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Roy ran up and engaged them in hand to hand. Back in the day, he only had his spatial awareness and hearing to fight enemies in a smokescreen. Now he had the D.E.O. glasses and it's thermal vision.

The fight, if you could call it that, was quick and decisive. They were all on the ground before the smoke dissipated. Roy turned toward the storage unit they were in front of when he caught sight of two new heat signatures out of the corner of his eye.

"Hands up!" Roy shouted, drawing his bow as he turned. Then the room started spinning.

"I'm guessing you're one the people who attacked my men at the Zesti plant," Vertigo smiled as he slowly walked down the hall. His mask was firmly in place. One of his men walked a few steps behind him, a rifle trained on Roy.

"Wha...uurk..." Roy dropped his bow, the arrow flinging off the bowstring and clattering onto the floor. His stomach churned and it was all Roy could do to keep from vomiting. The room was twisting and turning in all different directions. He finally fell onto his hands and knees.

"I'm guessing from your outfit and the bow you're not a cop," Vertigo said, kneeling down in front of Roy and watching him like one might watch an insect. "I'd guess you were one of those "hero" vigilantes, but you're not wearing mask. Just these."

Vertigo took the sunglasses off Roy's face. He looked them over before snapping them in half. "Not much use in hiding your identity. So, who are you?"

Roy tried to move forward. Vertigo stood up and Roy grabbed onto his ankle before vomiting at his feet. Vertigo stepped back just in time to keep his boots clean, kicking Roy down onto his side.

"Harper, report!" Diggle shouted into Roy's earpiece. His voice was like glass stabbing into his ear. "I'm entering the building."

"Y-You're..." Roy croaked out. "Under...arrest..."

Vertigo started laughing out loud. A hearty laugh, from the gut. He turned to look back at his man and pointed down at Roy, as if it was all a comedy routine.

Summoning everything shred of control he could, Roy suddenly sat up, drew a pistol strapped to his side, and opened fire. The first two shots went wild, but the third connected with Vertigo's side. He stumbled backwards as his man raised his rifle to defend his employer. Roy expected bullets to tear through him, but instead there was a slight popping sound and a sudden sharp pain in his neck. Reaching up, Roy pulled a dart out of his skin. There were only faint traces of green liquid left in it.

"I'm sorry," Vertigo groaned, the air having been knocked out of him. He stood up and checked his side. The Kevlar armor protected him as intended. "I would have liked to ask you some more questions, but I'm afraid you're indisposed. Enjoy the trip, before your heart stops from the stress. Let's go."

Roy watched as Vertigo turned to leave. His man walked behind Roy, probably to rouse the others, but Roy couldn't focus on that. He couldn't focus on anything. His heart was racing a mile a minute. His breath was shallow. The nausea was gone, but the room was still spinning. Soon his eyes settled on a figure walking toward him, dressed in green.

"What a fine mess you've gotten yourself into, kid."

His arms gave out and Roy fell onto his back. The lights above him were blinding, but he could see the outline of the other man's hood. The green mask covering his eyes. The pointed van dyke on his chin.

"Not that I'm surprised. You never could handle yourself."

"I-I..." Roy mumbled, slowly trying to roll onto his side. "I've b-been taking care...of myself...since before you...l-left..."

"Oh yeah, I suppose you're right," the figure mused, running his hand over his beard. "Or maybe you just couldn't keep up!"

A green boot slammed into Roy's head, knocking it off the concrete floor. "Maybe if you were better, you could have helped me take Merlyn down! Maybe if you didn't need me to hold your hand, you could have protected Thea!"

Another boot, this time to Roy's gut. He dry heaved for a moment, unable to catch his breath. His heart was still pounding, his chest was on fire. There was a shrill ringing in his ears.

"Maybe if you weren't a complete screw up, I wouldn't have left you!"

"Roy!" Diggle shouted as he rounded the corner. Roy was writhing on the floor, his hands clutching his head. His screams echoed through the hall all around them. "This is Agent Diggle! I need an ambulance at Herman's Storage on 4th and Vine, now!"

Diggle crouched down and pulled Roy into his arms. He couldn't pull Roy's hands off his head, and nothing seemed to get through to him. He could feel Roy's heartbeat and noticed the dart lying on the floor. "Harper's been drugged with something! Get a med team ready!"

Unable to calm his partner down, Diggle took him in his arms and picked him up. He raced for the elevator, all the while Roy's screaming in his ear.



"Welcome back."

Roy blinked a couple times, trying to regain focus. He looked around and found himself in a hospital room. Early morning sunlight bathed the room, giving the otherwise cold and sterile place a warm glow.

"Thought I lost you there, partner."

Roy looked over to see Diggle sitting in the chair beside his hospital bed. He had a giant cup of coffee and over a day's worth of stubble.

"You look like shit," Roy said, his voice low and scratchy. His throat was so dry.

Already a step ahead of him, Diggle handed him a small cup of water. "Thanks. You too."

"I've had worse hangovers," Roy joked, though his tone was grim. "How long was I out?"

"Just the rest of the night. Whatever that drug they pumped you full of was, it works fast. The doctor said if they hadn't gotten to you as quick as they did you would likely have gone into cardiac arrest."

Roy didn't quip back, which worried Diggle. It hurt to swallow, but Roy gulped down the water.

The partners were interrupted by a nurse. Soon after a doctor came in. They told Roy that he was lucky to be alive and they wanted to keep him at least another day for observation. Roy didn't say much. He had a haunted look on his face.

Toward the end of the doctor's visit, Lyla came in. She hung back until the doctor was gone. "Glad to see you're all right, Harper."

"Yeah, me too," Roy mumbled as he stared out the window.

Lyla and Diggle shared a concerned look but let it go. Lyla opened a file she had brought with her and said, "We have a lead on Zytle. Werner Zytle, to be exact. He and his parents fled from Vlatava about twenty years ago."

"Vlatava?" Diggle asked. "Never heard of it."

"Not surprising. It was a tiny European country that was 'annexed' by Russia. Zytle was part of the royal family. Might even be the rightful king at this point, it's hard to keep track of the lines of succession."

"What's a refugee monarch doing trying to take over the Metropolis underworld?" Diggle asked, taking the file from Lyla to look over. "And when did he gain super powers?"

"Unknown. His parents sought asylum in America. There was some petitioning with the United Nations for aid but it didn't last long. Eventually Vlatava and all it's people were simply forgotten."

"You said you had a lead?"

Lyla smiled. "We checked up on Zytle's holdings. We have three different locations we think could be his base of operations. We're putting together a team now that will head out once we confirm."

There's an uncomfortable silence as Diggle and Lyla looked back to Roy. He was still staring out the window.

"Go," Roy finally said, answering their unasked question. "One of us should be there, Dig."

"You sure, man?"

"Finish the job."



Unmarked police vehicles pulled up two blocks down from an old warehouse that was purchased by Zytle through a shell company. SWAT team members poured out of a van, armed and ready.

"You certain this is the one?" Diggle asked Lyla, who was coordinating with the M.P.D. captain.

"All the officers we sent to check out the leads reported back, except this one." Lyla finished strapping a vest on and offered one to Diggle.

"So if we're right and Vertigo is here, how do we handle this?"

"We're deploying snipers on the rooftops. They're cleared to take the shot the second they get one."

Diggle's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded in agreement. He quickly checked over his sidearm and his backup, making sure everything was ready.

"Oh and this," Lyla said, handing him a small pill and a bottle of water.

"What is it?"

"Dramamine."

Laughter erupted from Diggle, followed quickly from Lyla as well. After he fought it down, Diggle swallowed the pill.

"Whatever works."

It didn't take long to surround the building. Once word was given that everyone was in place, the M.P.D. captain ordered his men in.

"This is the worst part of the job," Lyla whispered to Diggle from an alleyway across the street.

"Hanging back?" Diggle asked, already knowing the answer. Lyla nodded. "It was so much easier in Afghanistan. We followed orders. We went into the fire ourselves. Now we have to sit back and wait while we send others in to take the risk."

"How's that working for you?"

Diggle chuckled under his breath. "With Harper? Half the time I end up in the thick of it with him anyway."

"And you wouldn't have it any other way."

Diggle looked down, surprised, to see Lyla's hand on his. For her part, she seemed as equally surprised.

"Alpha Team, going in."

The radio call shook them out of their thoughts and they turned their attention to the warehouse. A loud crash echoed in the night, followed by silence. After a painfully long forty-five seconds, the telltale sound of gunfire rang out.

"Meeting resistance! Can't...AAAARRARRARRAAGH!"

"All teams move in!" the M.P.D. captain ordered.

"After you," Diggle said, the smirk on his face inappropriate considering the circumstances, yet between the two of them, completely welcome.

"Let's move!"

Diggle, Lyla, and five other SWAT members rushed across the street. They headed for a side door to the warehouse. Taking up positions on either side of the door, one SWAT member carrying a battering ram stepped up and broke through the door in one swing.

They barely made it around the first corner before meeting opposition. Gunshots rang out as calls for the enemies to stand down fell on deaf ears. Some of them were firing traditional firearms, but some were firing darts filled with more drugs. One hit Diggle in the chest, impacted in his bulletproof vest. He quickly knocked it away.

The team quickly made their way through the halls, securing rooms as they went. What Vertigo's men had in motivation, they lacked in skill. Most were quickly overwhelmed by the SWAT team.

As they made their way deeper into the building, they began to feel a queasiness in their stomachs. It got worse as they started up a staircase toward the top floor. Two of the SWAT members couldn't hold out, toppling over and vomiting onto the stairs.

"You good?" Lyla asked, her face ashen.

Diggle just nodded, afraid to speak for fear of vomiting as well. When they reached the top of the stairs, they came out into a large, open room. Standing alone amongst the hunched over forms of both SWAT members and criminals was Vertigo. He had a shotgun in his hands and was trading fire with the two SWAT members who were still somewhat functional.

"Drop it!" Diggle shouted, trying his hardest to stay on his feet.

"You're under...urk...under arrest!" Lyla shouted, opening fire. Her hands were shaking so much that she fired wildly.

Vertigo turned his attention toward them, along with a wave of nausea and dizziness. Lyla, Diggle, and their team quickly fell to the floor. Diggle managed to squeeze off a shot, the bullet tearing a hole in the corner of Vertigo's dark green trench coat. He looked at it and smiled.

"What does it take to get through to you?" Vertigo asked, tossing his shotgun to the floor. "The police? The F.B.I.? You can't take me down! I'm the new King of Metropolis!"

From inside his coat, Vertigo pulled out a vial of green liquid. He took the plastic off the syringe with his teeth and spit it out. His eyes sparkled underneath his green hooded mask.

"I wonder which would be worse," Vertigo pondered, kneeling down between Diggle and Lyla. "Giving this to you, or to her?"

Diggle tried to reach for him, but he couldn't even tell which way was up or down. He saw the spinning figure of Vertigo grab Lyla by the hair and jerk her head up.

"Dig, put your glasses on! Cover you ears!"

Years of training got through the haze in Diggle's brain, and he fumbled his D.E.O. glasses on his face just in time to see an arrow crash through the window on their left. As soon as it impacted the floor, a blinding light erupted from it.

"God!" Vertigo screamed in pain.

Before the light dissipated, another arrow whistled through the air. After the thud of impact, a high pitched wail assaulted their ears. Everyone in the room began screaming in pain, but the only ones Diggle paid attention to were Vertigo's.

Vertigo stood up in a panic. He covered his ears with his hands and blinked his eyes, unable to see. Fighting through the pain, Diggle grabbed the vial that Vertigo dropped and fought his way to one knee.

A loud crash of breaking glass came to the left as Roy swung in. He kept himself back, a good thirty feet from Vertigo, and readied another arrow.

"Stand down or I end this!" Roy shouted. The wailing from the sonic device just ended, but Diggle could barely hear Roy over the ringing in his ears.

Vertigo's screams of pain turned to rage. Still unable to see, he spun in place, stumbling, and another wave of sickness spread out in all directions. Diggle saw Roy stumble out of the corner of his eye. Diggle felt himself start to tip over, and then Lyla was there.

Neither could utter a word, but they shared a look of understanding and helped each other up. Stumbling together toward Vertigo, they grabbed the vial in all four of their hands and fell down at his feet. The syringe went in through his boot, and he shrieked in pain.

"No! No no no no no!"

The sickness began to lessen. The twang of a bow string and the whistle of an arrow ended with it impacting Vertigo in the forehead. Rather than a spray of blood, however, sparks flew out from Vertigo's mask. The wave of sickness completely fell away, and Vertigo fell down into a fetal position, shaking in agony from his own drugs.

"T-This is Michaels," Lyla croaked out into her radio. "We need a med team ASAP. Get on your feet and start rounding these scum up!"

Roy walked up and stood over Vertigo, his arrow still sticking out of the man's forehead. He reached down to yank it out, pulling the mask back as he did. It revealed a bunch of wiring and circuitry built into the inside of the mask.

"Looks like Zytle wasn't a meta after all," Diggle said, now on his feet. Though he and Lyla were both leaning on each other. He took the glasses off and put them in his pocket.

"Can't wait for the paperwork on this," Roy mumbled.

"Nice shot," Lyla nodded at Roy.

"Not bad yourself," Roy smirked weakly. He looked back down at Zytle, shaking and mumbling to himself, his eyes wide open.

"I thought you were supposed to be in the hospital overnight," Diggle said.

"They let me go early," Roy smiled genuinely. "You know how I am. Model patient." The three shared a laugh, tension leaving them, as the EMTs came in for Zytle.

"My ears are still ringing," Lyla complained as they made their way out. They'd all need to get checked out anyway. "What was that?"

"Sonic Arrow," Roy said, casually. "Tech I borrowed from a friend. You're lucky it wasn't the real thing. It'd be much worse."



Twenty-one hours later...

The junkie rubbed his sweaty hands on his jean jacket for the third time. He put his hand inside his front pocket for the tenth time, making sure the vial was still there. Still safe.

Getting the word out was tough. The cops were cracking down hard on anyone who had this stuff. It was almost all confiscated by now. It was just dumb luck that he happened to get one. A random dart shot wild that went past the police line at the warehouse. Only a fourth of the drug had escaped before he got to it.

This vial was the hottest piece of merchandise in Metropolis right now. Too hot for him. He just wanted to get rid of it and make even a tenth of what it was worth. He prayed the buyer was legit.

It's why he was hanging out on the corner in front of Gustav's Grocery. It was public. Dangerous if a cop was watching, but safer than in some back alley where he could be snuffed out.

He was starting to think about bolting when he saw her walking down the street. She stood out, and not just in a "too rich for this neighborhood" way. She was different. She was of Asian descent. Her designer clothes hugged her curves in ways he'd never seen. Her long, fur lined coat flowed out behind her like a royal train.

She singled him out immediately. She walked up and grabbed his wrist, her nails digging into his skin. She pulled him over toward the wall and he followed without question.

"Do you have it?" Her voice was soft and sultry, yet sharp and dangerous. He knew right away not to try and pull anything.

"R-Right here," he said, patting his pocket. "You got my money?"

"Let me see it." She finally let go of his wrist and he could feel blood trickling down.

He turned his back to the street and pulled the vial out of his pocket. She snatched it from his hand so fast he didn't even see it happen.

"Hey, my...money..."

Something didn't feel right. He was having trouble breathing. His legs were growing weak. His wrist was on fire.

"Sorry, but I don't leave loose ends. And no ones going to miss another junkie who overdosed."

She turned and walked off, not a care in the world. He slowly lost his balance and fell to the ground. Others rushed over to help, but there was nothing that could be done. She was gone before he hit the ground, vanished into the night.

-The End-