Deadshot

Note: this issue takes place before TITANS WEST #1

Herman Shyneski was shaking as he talked on the phone; this guy scared him. "Look, I'm sorry, there just isn't anything out there for a guy with your particular talents. Maybe next week, okay?"

"What's the problem, Herman?" said the man on the other line.

"It's just that, and believe me when I say that I don't think this, but some people are saying that Deadshot may have lost his edge. I mean, you went to take out Nightwing and all you did was kill a couple of cops, and two other super assassins. Everyone's thinking you aren't trying as hard as you could." Herman was sweating like crazy; if not for Deadshot being two states away he would never have said that. "Maybe you should take a vacation, right?"

"But I am on vacation," Deadshot said over the phone.

"That's great, man, see the world." Herman started to feel better. Maybe he had worried about nothing; maybe Deadshot was cool. "Where are you on vacation at?"

"Look out your office window," as Deadshot spoke, he raised his arm up and pointed out of his motel window.

Herman froze, and the sweat on his head even stopped. He slowly pulled up the shade of his office window. The bullet that broke through the windowpane and penetrated his skull barely made a noise.

"Bye," Deadshot said as he hung up his phone. Lost my edge huh? I guess there's only one thing to do then. I have to kill a super hero.

Kevin Topper had made a lot of money off of the Internet. Actually, he had made a lot of money off of super villains using the Internet. Topper had been injured when The Blue Beetle ducked one of Captain Cold's ice ray gun shots. Topper's whole left arm froze, and before he could have it thawed, he had suffered frostbite. He lost 80% of his left arm and instead of hating Cold for the injury, he blamed Blue Beetle. After all, Cold was aiming for Beetle; if he hadn't ducked, Topper would never have been hurt. He became a recluse and a genius when it came to the Internet. He had been dubbed the Anti-Oracle by the super underground. If it was on the web, Topper could find it.

Topper was checking out the latest tank-penetrating bullets when he received an e-mail from one of his clients. Let's see what we have here. Deadshot, huh? Haven't heard from him since the Blockbuster deal fell through. Let's see what he needs. Topper scrolled through the letter,

T,
Need to kill a super guy. Give info and last known location of the following.
Batman
Robin
Flash
Forget about Batman, changed my mind
Wonder Chick
Green Bow
Any former Titan lying around
D.

After reading the mail, Topper leaned back in his chair. Deadshot was good, but sometimes his ambition didn't let him see the picture very clearly. He wanted a super hero to kill, fine – there were plenty of them; Topper just needed to help him find someone a little more manageable than Batman or "Wonder Chick". He moved to his keyboard and started to type.

D,
I think you may be interested in the following information, as always all info is provided for a fee. I expect $2,500 to be deposited in my Swiss account by midnight tonight. Here you go.

Batman - Gotham City, I think you know the address.
Robin - seems to hang around Batman a little less nowadays, might be moving to another city.
Flash - Keystone City. Wait, Central City. Now Jerusalem, Hell he's too damn fast to keep track of, just skip him.
Forget about Batman, changed my mind - Okay, you're the boss.
Wonder Chick - Wonder WOMAN, she is hard to find right now, let’s move on.
Green Bow - Green Arrow has been in Star City. Something weird going down there, you may want to avoid that situation for another four months or so, just to see how it ends.
Any former Titan lying around - Where to start?

I guess what you really need is a super kill to cement your rep again right? Well here is a list that might be of more use.

Red Star, a former Titan, from the Soviet Union. He was last seen in New York City at S.T.A.R. Labs.
Powers include:
Superhuman strength, speed, and endurance
Bodily ignition into flame
Ability to absorb and redirect energy

Pantha, who is a project from the old Wildebeest Society Experimental Division. No one knows if she was a human or a cat before the experiments. Lives with Red Star in NYC.
Powers include:
Feline - like advanced agility
Razor sharp claws

Baby Wildebeest, another Society project gone awry. I just know this thing is weird. He stays in the company of Pantha & Red Star, some kind of freak family.
Powers include:
Ability to use super strength and endurance when threatened, otherwise, a super powerful hairy ass baby. And he's real loud too.

On a side note, they run together, and are currently in New York at S.T.A.R. Labs, so you might want some help. Happy hunting, and don't forget my payment if you ever want to turn a computer on again.
T.

Deadshot read over the e-mail carefully. While Topper's suggestions were not as high profile as what he would have liked, it made sense to go after easier targets right now. That would show everyone that he was still the main player in the game while still having a low risk factor of jail time. He decided to make a few phone calls; there were a couple of guys who might want in on this job. Besides, if he was going to New York City, he would need someone to drink with.

Thomas Blake walked to the phone. Who would be calling me at this time of night? He moved Princess, his Calico cat, from the table and picked up the phone. "Hello," he said.

"Blake, it's Lawton."

"Lawton, I haven't heard from you in ages! How are you?"

"Fine"

"Excellent, my friend, so what's new in the business?" Blake knew better than to use any words on the phone that could be used against him, should his phone line be tapped. Better to play it safe than do something stupid and let the police know that you were talking to a known killer like Deadshot, or worse yet, talk about killing someone.

"I'm going to kill some super heroes, wanted to know if you’d like to tag along," Deadshot said.

Blake swore into the phone for the next sixteen seconds.

After he was finished, he calmed down and asked, "Well sir, if I knew what you were talking about, and I don't. But if I did, I think I might be interested. Where are you thinking of meeting?" Now, it is widely known in the underworld that you never give the correct location you intend on traveling to for a hit. You always give info over the phone like that in code. For instance, if the hit was in San Francisco you might say, I'm traveling to San Diego to meet my uncle and aunt. My uncle has been taking Viagra and my aunt says he is acting frisky. So you take San and Frisk, and you get San Francisco.

"I'm coming to New York City on Monday, pick me up at the airport at Gate 32 Flight 288. Thanks." And Deadshot quickly hung up the phone.

Thomas Blake cursed for another sixteen seconds. Obviously Deadshot wasn't present the last time underworld subtlety had been taught. He reasoned that Deadshot probably would have used a secured line, so there was little chance anyone was listening to the conversation. After all, who knew that Thomas Blake was an acquaintance of the assassin Deadshot? The answer to that question was the same as; who knew Thomas Blake, ex-big game hunter and self-made millionaire was secretly the super villain known as Catman? The answer: no one. So, if Deadshot wanted Catman's help on a hit, he would be there, he still had seven lives to lose anyway.

"Lawton!" yelled Blake. Lawton had just entered the baggage terminal when Blake spied him. Lawton signaled to him to hold on a second, and then grabbed two duffel bags off the baggage carousal.

"Good to see you Blake. You get the package that I FedExed you last night?" Deadshot had sent his spare costume and weapons to Blake, just in case there was a problem at the airport. Overnight delivery services had become super villain's best friends over the past ten years.

Blake smiled, "Yeah Floyd, everything's fine." He led Deadshot out of the airport to his corvette parked outside. "What do you think?" he asked.

"Nice, but I prefer something a little more bullet proof to ride in, remind me to tell you about the time I almost got killed in a van when I hit a Nazi." Lawton hopped in the vehicle and lit a cigarette.

"What the Hell do you think you are doing?" Blake reached over and snatched away the cigarette. "Never smoke in my vehicles, or my homes! The smell lingers for months."

"You’ve been seeing too many TRUTH.COM commercials. Anyway, now that we can talk, let me tell you about the hit. S.T.A.R. Labs is playing host to three former Titans, Red Star, Pantha, and Wildebeest. I plan on taking all three of them out in one night, thereby cementing my position as the number one hitman in the world. You're in if you want, but I know the awe inspiring Catman doesn't need this kind of press to strike fear into the hearts of Batman and Robin." Lawton smirked at the face Blake gave him, and then lit another cigarette.

"Well, you are correct, I don't need the press, but I do need the money. So, if this hit starts bringing up more offers, then I am in." Blake reached over, snatched Deadshot's cigarette away and threw it out the window. "Just don't smoke in my car."

"Okay," Deadshot said. "But we have to make one more stop before we go to your place to set this up. Take us to this address." He handed Blake a rolled up cocktail napkin that had writing on the inside.

"This is in a bad part of town, my friend," Blake was worried his corvette might be in jeopardy. "Are you sure this address is correct?"

Deadshot rolled his eyes, "Blake, we are two SUPER VILLAINS! We have faced BATMAN before. Why should you worry about neighborhood gangs? Besides, this should only take a minute; we have to gather one more person for the job. You might remember him, The Tattooed Man."

The bar's name was Pockets, it was mainly a run-down pool hall, but the regular clientele kept it pretty busy. As soon as Lawton and Blake entered, they stuck out like sore thumbs. Well, Blake in his designer sweater and ‘No Wrinkle’ slacks did anyway. Lawton spied their comrade at the back of the pool hall. "Abe, nice to see you," he said.

Abel Tarrant, the Tattooed Man's eyes widened at the site of his two old friends. "Lawton, Blake, you sons of bitches! Bout time you showed up, I was beginning to think the job was going down without me." Abe was dressed in a black tank top, blue jeans, and had a dark blue cap on. The only thing that stood out on him was the numerous tattoos that literally covered his body.

"Nah, we just had to find somewhere safe for Blake to park his chariot," Lawton said. "Let's get out of here, we'll drink at Blake's place and I'll fill you in on the details."

As Lawton turned to leave he bumped into a burly man shooting darts, ruining his shot. The man turned and walked right up in Lawton's face, he was nearly half a foot taller than Lawton, and had about fifty pounds on him. "You screwed up my shot, you owe me $100."

Lawton picked up a dart off the table, "Or what?"

The burly man poked Lawton in the chest, "Or I kick your damn teeth in.” He then pointed to Abe, "Then my buddy slices up your tattooed dumbass brother." He turned his attention to Blake. "And since it looks like he wants it so bad, we both make the little queer our bitch for the night." The big man clenched his fist, "What do you say to that?"

Lawton's eyes narrowed, "I say, you can't kick in my teeth, I had expensive dental work done on them when I was a child. I also say Abel's not my brother or a dumbass!" At that point Lawton kneed the man in the groin. The burly fellow let out a rush of air, and doubled over in pain. His friend rushed to help him, but Lawton took the dart in his hand and threw it into the point of the man's nose.

Another bruiser who had too many beers attempted to help, but as he did so, Tattooed Man touched one of his tattoos and a huge anchor appeared out of nowhere and slammed into the man's chest, knocking him out cold.

Blake stood behind Tarrant, ready to pounce on anyone else who tried anything. Or he was hiding. It was hard to tell.

Lawton gave the burly man an elbow to the back of the head, and a knee to the face. The burly man fell to the floor a bloody heap. Lawton stood over the fallen man and lit a cigarette. "You may be right about Blake though."

The three villains left the bar to total silence, except for Blake's incessant swearing at Lawton.

Later at Blake's house, Tarrant and Lawton took turns making fun of Blake's cat-like nicknames for everything in his gear. "The Catarang! Look out Batman here I come in the Catmobile!" Tarrant doubled over in laughter; even Lawton let out a laugh here and there.

Blake was less than amused. He was taking out one of his yellow and orange Catman suits and dusting it off; he had to look good for tomorrow night. "I wish you two would get serious. It's not like the three of us haven't done something stupid in the past, but after tomorrow the whole world will fear us. Us, the guys who killed the Titans! Or at least some former Titans anyway. We're going to be in big demand, we should start thinking about getting a team name or a secretary."

"I think I'll let you handle that part, Tommy," Abel said. "As for me, I'll take my jobs the old fashion way, come find me and talk to me." He downed another beer; he was pretty lit by now.

"You don't use Topper?" Lawton asked.

"Use him, I never even heard of him."

"Topper does good work," Lawton reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. He fumbled with it, and several cards and a picture fell out. "Damn, where is it. Here you go, this card has his e-mail address on it, he'll set you up right."

As Abel took the card, Catman spied the picture on the floor. "Hey Lawton, who's the girl?" he asked. He picked up the picture of the woman who was leaning on a tree smiling warmly. "She's nice on the eyes Lawton, is this your girl?"

"Yeah D, you getting some action off the broad or what?" Abe was really getting drunk now.

"No," Lawton said and took the picture back. "She came with the wallet."

Catman realized this was as close to hanging out with friends as Floyd Lawton ever got. He wondered what it was like to be that damn lonely. He felt sorry for Lawton, but there was business to discuss. "Floyd, the job tomorrow, when do we leave, and how do you want to get into S.T.A.R. Labs?"

"We leave at 8 pm, that gives us just the night shift guards to worry about, they shouldn't be a whole lot of trouble." Lawton looked over at Abe who was passed out on the couch. "TM here will do the big stuff, cause as much trouble as possible, he's also the one I want to take on Red Star and Wildebeest with. You get the cat chick all to yourself, I figure you know everything there is about hunting big game cats, one that walks on two legs should be no problem."

Blake put his costume back in the plastic bag that would protect it from dust. "No problem," he said. He walked into his closet and hung up the costume. He placed his orange boots below the outfit and closed the door. "I just want to thank you, Floyd, not many thought I still had this in me. I promise you, as a friend, I will not let you down." Blake turned to see Lawton asleep in the recliner; a half-full beer can in his lap. Blake cleaned up the mess of cans, turned out the lights and went to bed. He dreamed of big cats and big paydays to come.

At 7:49 pm the trio finished changing into their costumes. Abe never really wore a costume, he just changed from blue denim jeans to black denim jeans. Catman was decked out in his traditional yellow outfit, highlighted by his orange boots, gloves, cowl, cape, and outer pants.

Deadshot called them underwear.

Catman argued they were not, and that even Superman wore them.

Deadshot said Superman was probably queer just like Catman.

Tattooed Man laughed a lot.

At 8 pm the trio were traveling via a mythical flying animal, a Pegasus. The beast was magically lifted from the skin of Tattooed Man with a simple touch and a lot of will power.

Catman was a little upset with his mode of transportation; he would have rather used the Catmobile.

Deadshot said it stuck out too much, but that a flying horse was subtle.

They landed on the roof of S.T.A.R. Labs at 8:09 pm. Catman used his skills to work the electronic locks on the roof access. The trio was in and they immediately went to work. Catman used a computer terminal to find the whereabouts of their three marks. They were quartered on the fourth floor. Pantha and Red Star shared a suite, and Wildebeest was in an adjoining room.

Suddenly Catman figured out what was going on. "This Red Star guy sleeps with a cat lady? That's sick! I think it may even be against animal rights."

Deadshot leaned over his shoulder, "You call yourself Catman, you wear yellow and orange, you own a boat called the Catamaran, you have the head of an orange cat on your chest, and I have never even seen you talk to a woman. And you want to judge other people's lifestyles?"

Catman got right up in Deadshot's face, "What are you implying? Huh? I'll have you know that I’ve been with plenty of ladies, Jeez, I was a millionaire playboy that was famous around the world." Catman was starting to yell. "And yeah, I am going to judge people. And while we're talking, let's talk about you. When was the last time you had a woman? I bet the last time you got some was with your psychiatrist when you were with the Suicide Squad. How long has that been? Three years or so? You aren't exactly Tom Cruise!"

"Umm guys," Tattooed Man tried to interrupt them, "we have company."

Catman stopped poking Deadshot in the chest and turned to look down the hallway. They did have company, three former Titans to be exact.

"You are breaking and entering, I hope you will surrender to us peacefully," said the Russian Red Star. "If not," he cracked his knuckles, "we will break you." Pantha smiled at him, he had been watching ROCKY IV again.

"Perfect," Deadshot said, "now we don't have to waste time finding them. TM, you get Wildebeest, Catman, you take the chick. The Russian is mine." Deadshot and his fellow hitmen fanned out in the hallway. They suddenly realized that you really can't fan out in a hallway; they were bottled up. "Not good," Deadshot said, as he watched Red Star ignite his flames and charge towards them.

Tattooed Man rolled up his pant leg and touched one of his tattoos; a vicious looking dog suddenly materialized in front of him. "Sic ‘em, boy," Tattooed Man said and the dog leapt at Red Star. The Russian firehouse slammed his fiery fist into the dog, causing it to evaporate in to the air.

Catman raced towards Red Star, using his speed and dexterity, he ducked Red Star's punch. Blake rolled and came up on his feet behind Red Star, coming face to face with Pantha. "You look like fun," she said as she pounced on Catman.

Wildebeest let a war cry out and charged at Deadshot, the assassin pulled both his wrist guns to bear and fired. The bullets ricocheted off his hide and into the walls this way and that. "Tough hide," he said, "switch to explosives." The wrist guns responded to his verbal commands and the familiar clicking noise was made, but as Deadshot prepared to take out Wildebeest, Red Star grabbed hold of Tattooed Man and threw him at Deadshot, causing his shot to go astray. The bullet missed Wildebeest, and then as Tattooed Man and Deadshot picked themselves up, the hairy beast was on them.

Wildebeest grabbed Deadshot by the leg and tossed him into an office door, smashing it in. Tattooed Man touched another tattoo, causing a bull to spring to life in the hallway. The bull charged at Wildebeest, however the bull didn't have the strength to compete with the powerhouse. Wildebeest picked up the bull and threw it out the hallway window.

Catman wasn't faring any better. Pantha was using him for a punching bag, and he considered himself lucky to still be conscious. He pulled his Catline from his utility belt and tried catching Pantha's legs up in the cord. She cut through the line with her razor sharp claws and jumped in the air. She landed feet first on Catman's chest knocking the air from him. "Maybe we can talk about this?" he said.

"Pantha, don't hurt him any more than necessary," Red Star said in his heavy Russian accented voice. "The fight is just about gone from them." As he spoke, he slammed his fist into Tattooed Man's face, knocking him unconscious. Red Star powered down, and walked over to Wildebeest. "It's okay baby, the bad men won't hurt you now." As he spoke, Red Star patted the Wildebeest on the head and it shrank down to the size of a young toddler.

"Bad men go sleep!" Baby Wildebeest yelled and belly flopped on Tattooed Man's chest.

"Looks like the three of you aren't as bad as you thought you were," said Pantha. Her claws were out, and she stayed perched atop Catman's chest.

Just then there was a sound, like something jumping out of the water. The hallway stayed quiet for a moment. Suddenly Red Star looked over at Pantha with a strange look in his eyes. He raised his hand up at her and then tumbled forward face first on the floor. Blood flowed out from his back where a bullet hole was seen.

"Leo," screamed Pantha, she jumped off Catman and ran to his side. Deadshot raced out of the office and fired two shots at her, she dodged them by springing off the walls and jumped on him. "I'm gonna kill you," she yelled. Her claws were tearing away at him, his suit offering a little protection.

"Not today lady," Catman tackled Pantha and used his own claws to rake at her. The two circled each other and pounced as one, scratching and hissing the whole way.

"Ha, cat fight," said Deadshot. He was bleeding from various wounds. "Gonna have to get some peroxide on the way home." He stood up and saw that the baby Wildebeest was gone, replaced by the giant Wildebeest. Deadshot raised his guns, "explosives, fire." The guns didn't respond. Pantha had destroyed the firing mechanisms in his wrists.

"You hurt Mommy and Daddy," Wildebeest said. He lunged for Deadshot, only to fall short, as his feet became entangled in a huge chain, courtesy of one of Tattooed Man's many tattoos.

"Deadshot, I think it's time we got the Hell out of here!" Tattooed Man said.

Deadshot agreed and yelled to Catman that they were leaving.

Catman and Pantha had shredded each other's costumes, but had done little damage to each other. As Tattooed Man and Deadshot jumped out the window, Catman did a back flip to separate himself from Pantha. "Good day to you my dear, I hope we meet again soon." And with that, Catman jumped out the window.

Wildebeest covered his ears as the sounds of cursing could be heard from outside the window.

"All I'm saying is that if you know that I am going to jump out a window after you, don't start flying away on a giant eagle without me!" Catman was a little upset. After jumping out the window, and falling down God knows how many stories, he had bounced off a flagpole, and landed on the roof of a 1998 Cadillac parked outside the S.T.A.R. Labs building. He wasn't sure if this counted as one of his lives or not.

"Hey Blake, we didn't know if you were coming or not, it's every man for himself in those situations," Tattooed Man sat back in the recliner and drank another beer. "Besides, you made it back to the apartment just fine." He hoisted an ice bag up to the side of his cheek.

"I had to take a CAB you idiot!"

"Good thing you carry cash in you Catbelt! Ha!"

Deadshot didn't partake in the humor; he was a bit upset. Three superheroes, three villains, no one died. He shot Red Star, hurt him nicely, but it wasn't a killing shot. He would recover, but would anyone hear about the daring raid the trio made tonight? He checked in with Topper.

Topper,
Fought 3 super guys, shot Red Star in the back. He's gonna live. Need something a little more high profile than him. Who else you got?
D.

His response almost came almost immediately.

D,
I already heard. Lots of people have. You got two offers for jobs already. General Zod wants to know if you want to give any of the Superman folk in Metropolis a try. But that might not be what you are looking for right now. And an anonymous financier wants to know if you're willing to come to Chicago for a hit on Blue Beetle a former JLI member, and current solo adventurer. Let me know what you think.
T.

Deadshot e-mailed his response and walked into the living room. Blake was already trying on his backup Catman suit. He had twenty-six backup suits…all of them yellow and orange. Deadshot had on his new uniform that he had shipped overnight to Blake, it was the same as his original but he had this one made in a darker shade of red. He lit a cigarette, despite Catman's protests and said, "Pack your bags boys, we're going to The Windy City!"

To Be Continued...

Next Issue: Can the terrible trio of Deadshot, Tattooed Man, and Catman really take out the Blue Beetle? Hell, can they even make it to Chicago without causing a major riot? And who exactly is this mysterious financier who is willing to pay big bucks to have Deadshot and Co. kill Blue Beetle? Lots of questions, we have answers in issue #2 of DEADSHOT.

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