“This is it,” she said, tapping away on the keys of her laptop.

It was a brand new one, the best on the market; it was a gift from me. But all the modifications on it were all hers. I bought it and then had it specifically tweaked. The laptop was now one rad little piece of tech. The R&D guys went nuts when I had it shipped to them and told them what I wanted. They were a little suspicious at first but I told them that it was for private web surfing---everyone in the company knew that the old man kept me on a short leash, one that included monitored Internet usage. The guys were all too happy to help. I’m not sure exactly what they did but now the thing couldn’t be hacked, traced or EMP’ed---whatever that is. They told me it was state-of-art and that was good enough for me.

I looked over her shoulder at the screen and saw a 3D diagram of downtown appear. She made the diagram smaller and brought up several screens, each showing different viewpoints of the road. I realized she’d somehow hacked into the transit mainframe and was watching through the traffic light cameras. In the background, the police radio kept buzzing. There was a high-speed pursuit in progress; the suspect robbed a bank by tearing the doors off its hinges, grabbing everything he could carry and then walking right out the front door. The security guard tried to stop him but the bullets actually bounced off his body.

“He’s going into the warehouse district now,” she said as she typed and brought up another screen.

The image filled the whole laptop, revealing a large warehouse where a red Volvo pulled up too. A large man wearing a black ski mask climbed out of the little car, holding a large bag on his shoulder like it weighed nothing. Behind him, four police cars squealed into the frame. Two officers got out of their cars, pointing their guns at him, shouting at him. The guy set the bag down gently, grabbed the bumper of the Volvo and tossed it like it was made of tissue paper.

The car smashed down on the two cars that the officers just exited.

“That guy’s fricking huge” I said, flabbergasted “did you see what he did to that car?”

Mia smiled. “He’s perfect. If you can prove to the world that you can take him down, then everyone will know that you mean business.”
“I’m an archer, Mia; my arrows will bounce right off that guy.”

She smiled. “Normal arrows maybe but not your arrows.”

My arrows came a couple of days ago. They weren’t fully titanium but they were close enough. The heads were anodized to look green, which fit in real well with me. There were thirty-six to begin with, six broad-heads, six bodkins, six blunts, and twelve arrows that Mia affectionately called “trick” arrows. Those were the ones I wasn’t so sure about but she was convinced that they’d make all the difference. The arrows were stored in a hard black case, which I kept hidden at the bottom of my new trunk. The trunk we bought online, it looked like a normal clothes trunk except it had a false bottom. It was in this false compartment that we decided to hide my arrows and my costume. My bow we left out in the open, it was my usual X-Appeal but we spray painted the whole thing green.

“How are my arrows going to take him down?”

On the screen, the cops had opened fire and the bullets weren’t doing a thing. There were more police cars there now but they were keeping their distance. The big brick house of a guy swatted the bullets away like they were flies. Then he picked up his bag and stomped into the warehouse. The police didn’t follow---who would.

“Your normal broad-heads won’t but try the number fives, they pack quite a punch.”

Mia made up both of our minds right then and there. I was going out to take on this guy and there was nothing I could do to change her mind. So I sighed and went along with it. It didn’t take me long to suit up. The Perma-Flex was a little uncomfortable and a bit chaffing in the crotch but it fit like it was supposed to. I put on my boots, my gloves and Mia helped with the hooded cape. We added a mask to our design a day after our brainstorming session, we both agreed we didn’t want anyone knowing who I was. It didn’t cover my whole face, just my eyes, kind of like the Zorro mask I wore at the mall.
When I was all suited up, I stared at myself in the mirror and groaned. “I look like Kermit the Frog.”

She smacked my arm.

That’s all the motivation I needed. I took a deep breath, loaded all thirty-six arrows into my quiver then grabbed my bow. I asked her about leaving the building and she said she had it all worked out. She tapped away on the keys again and smiled. Apparently, she got into the building security mainframe and tricked the cameras into playing a continuous loop of empty hallways and an empty elevator. I was free to move about the building without the cameras picking me up. When I asked about actual people, she smiled. She thought of that too. She created some kind of plumbing emergency on one of the top floors, which had drawn a lot of the personnel to keep it under control.

“You have about twenty minutes to get out of the building.”

I ran out of the room and into the elevator. Time was tight; the elevator ride alone was at least ten. I didn’t even get to ride it all the way to the lobby either. Mia stopped it at the second floor and told me to take the stairs. Apparently, she unlocked one of the emergency exits. I ran down the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. When I pushed open the door to the outside, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I didn’t have my license yet. My grandfather was being stingy about it. He made me sixteen to make me seem more mature---his words, not mine---and yet he refused to let me drive. He was afraid I’d get hurt or something.

So I was kind of surprised to see a black sedan waiting for me. I was even more surprised when Luke got out of the driver’s side. He looked at me and smiled.

“I can explain,” I said, and he laughed.

“My lips are sealed, Miss Queen.”

Chalk one up to Mia. I ran into the car as he opened the door for me. I got into the back and kept low as we drove away. Luckily, for me the windows were tinted black. We drove at the speed limit, the last thing we needed was to be caught by the police. When we got close to the warehouse district, a police officer on foot stopped the car. Up ahead I could see the commotion. There was a large crowd gathered around the police barricade. I saw at least four news vans, several reporters and two helicopters buzzing overhead, one of them was the police.

Luke wasn’t allowed to go any further so he backed up a bit. He pulled into a side alley where I got out of the car and decided to go on foot. The warehouse buildings were real close together so it would be easy enough to get from one to the other. I decided to take the high road. I climbed the fire escape on the side of the building, my body as shaky as the metal staircase that I was ascending. When I reached the top, I moved quickly across the roof, stopping at the edge to get my bearings. The warehouse that the police were surrounding was across the street. The two buildings were so close that I could almost jump across.

But I had other problems; there were three police snipers up here with me. Luckily, their backs were to me but it was only a matter of time before they saw me. I bit my lip and cursed.

“There’s only three,” squawked Mia’s voice in my ear.

“Easy for you to say, Speedy.”

“Try number three.”

I reached into my quiver and searched for the arrow she mentioned. We named all the trick arrows to make it easier to use them. Number three was one of the ones that I was most familiar with because it was the hardest to perfect. When we first came up with the trick arrows, it was one of the first ones we thought up. I made it very clear that I didn’t want to hurt anyone. So far, I’d been able to get away with winging my opponents, hitting them in non-vital places but the idea didn’t sit well with me. It made me feel like I was hunting them. So we devised the arrows to make them so I could subdue my opponents without ever truly hitting them.

Number three was a gas arrow.

I pulled it from the quiver and aimed at the wall in-between two of the three snipers. I fired and kept my distance as the arrow did its trick. We originally envisioned it as an arrow that had a gas canister instead of an arrowhead but it would have been too heavy to fire. So instead, we came up with an arrowhead that was a small gas canister itself. When it impacted with a hard surface, the head erupted and gas spilled out. The head was a bit bigger than the other heads, making it a little harder to fire, so compensation was needed. I practiced a few times with some dummy arrows and I think I got it down pretty good.
When the arrow hit the wall between the police snipers, the effect was instant. There wasn’t much gas but enough to startle someone. My original idea was to put someone out with it but we both decided that was ridiculous and impossible. So while the three of them were coughing and gagging, I took off at a run. I went right between them, leaped over the side of the building and onto the roof of the other in one large bound.

I landed on the balls of my feet and took off at a run. The warehouse roof was flat and I ran with as little noise as possible---BB taught Roy and me how to do that. A little hatch led inside. It wasn’t too heavy so I was able to lift it and slip inside without too much of a problem. I landed on a catwalk, kicking up a whole lot of dust. I gagged and put a hand over my mouth to suppress a cough. Below me, I saw the big guy stomping around, arguing with someone on the phone. I got a good look at him, without his mask, and I groaned.

Calling him a guy was an understatement. The man below me was as far from a guy as I was. He was some kind of monster. He was completely bald, looked to be about seven foot and was as wide as a truck. But it was his skin that made him look so freakish, it wasn’t normal like everyone else’s, it was red. In fact, it looked a lot like brick. Just great, I found myself some kind of freakish brick dude.

“I don’t care what you say, I did the job, so the cash is mine!” he angrily shouted into the phone, his voice was grating and sounded like gravel.

He crushed the phone in his hand and threw the twisted remains onto the ground at his feet.

I took a deep breath. Someone once said, “The best plan is to have is none at all”. I’m not sure who said it but they’d clearly never seen a brick man before. I nocked one of my normal arrows, a broad-head, thinking maybe I can get him in a vulnerable spot. I crouched low on the catwalk, took aim for one of his feet and fired. My plan was to put the arrow it one of the crevices between his toes. But plans only looked good in the head sometimes. The arrow found its mark but the titanium crumpled on his foot like it was made of aluminum foil. I cursed. The Brick man snapped around, spotting me instantly.

“What the hell are you supposed to be?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I nocked another arrow and let it fly. My hope was to hit him in the eye but it crumpled again. He looked a bit annoyed after that. There was a large metal barrel nearby. He grabbed it and threw it at me before I knew it was coming. It smashed into the catwalk, tearing into the spot I was only moments before. I’m not sure what happened exactly. I should have been creamed by the barrel but somehow I dodged it. For a second there I saw it moving real slow in the air and I was able to time myself to move out of the way. It was just like the time I fought those guys on the cruise ship.

The Brick---let’s call him that---laughed. ‘You’re a Meta aren’t you?”

No, I’m not, that’s crazy.

He laughed as he continued, grabbing another barrel. “I read in the news that we’ve been popping up all over the place. I’ve been keeping taps on the police bands, wondering if another one would pop up in the city.”

He threw the second barrel. Once again, I saw it coming and it somehow slowed down. I was able to move out of the way before it smashed into another part of the catwalk. Everything creaked and groaned. Two sections of the catwalk were smashed to pieces; it would never be able to take another blow. I had to get off it and fast. I looked around, trying to figure out my best choice. I couldn’t jump because the fall would kill me. There were some metal beams crisscrossing the ceiling but I wondered if I could jump up there before he threw another barrel.

I need a grappling gun or something.

I took a chance and jumped straight up. It was a good choice because a third barrel slammed into the spot where I’d just been crouching. The catwalk gave out finally; groan, then it came crashing down to the floor. I used the noise and the confusion to pull myself up onto the beam. A close of smoke and dust rose from the mangled wreckage. The Brick started to cough and gag, giving me the needed time to plan a proper strategy. I knew my normal arrows were worthless. I could continue firing them but that would only piss him off. So I’d have to rely on my trick arrows and I only had eleven of those left. I need to bring more of those and less of the normal.

I tapped my throat mike, trying to see if I could raise Mia. We decided on radio silence during missions unless it was absolutely necessary. I tried to raise her but all I got was static from my earpiece. Apparently, the warehouse walls were causing some kind of interference. So I’m on my own, which arrow did she say to use? I counted them off in my head, trying to remember what each did. When I got to six, I sighed. It was our pride and joy but it was completely dangerous.

‘You’re a wily one,” shouted the Brick, once the dust had cleared. “I could use someone like you. Why don’t you drop this hero thing and join me. I’ll give you an even share of the loot, how does seventy thirty sound?”

I groaned. This guy was unbelievable. I still didn’t respond to his taunts. Instead, I decided to speak with actions. I nocked the arrow, aimed at the floor by the son of a bitch’s feet and prayed. I let it lose and grabbed the support of the beam, holding on tight. When the arrow hit the ground, it exploded, sending concrete and dust flying into the air. It was quite a bang, louder and more potent than I thought it was. Number six was our explosive arrow; the head was hollowed out and packed tightly with plastique. It wasn’t enough to be too dangerous but it was enough to blow a wall to smithereens, as well as a human I suppose. Number six was a last resort, to use only when nothing else worked.

Through the smoke and the dust, I heard the laughter.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Is that all you got?” he shouted, stepping from the wreckage without even a scratch.

There was a big hole in the floor; a water pipe had actually burst, spewing water all over the place. The Brick was completely unharmed. His clothes were tattered and in shambles and his brick-like skin was a bit scorched but his body was absolutely fine. He shook off a bit, brushing dust and cement debris from his shoulder. Then he grabbed another barrel and let it fly toward me. It slammed into the metal beneath my feet but the beam was a lot stronger than the catwalk.

Instead, the barrel exploded on impact, sending a gooey paste all over me. I gasped and slipped, losing my footing. When I fell, I half expected to hit the ground but I didn’t. Instead, I landed in his large hands. He cradled me to the floor and left me lying there. HE stood over me, staring down with the biggest smirk on his face.

“I may be the bad guy here but I’m no monster”. He looked me up and down and laughed. “You’re just a little girl, aren’t you?”

I kicked to my feet. I never wanted to get close enough for them to discover my true gender. I scrambled away but it was hard because I was covered with the gooey stuff. It was sticky too and made it hard to walk. It clung to my body, covered my face, got in my hair. That made me groan a bit, signifying that I truly was a girl after all. I pulled some of the stuff off my chest, trying to see what it was that I was covered in. I gasped; it was glue. I looked at the barrels; there were hundreds of them all around me. I suddenly realized where I was: this was an old glue factory warehouse. I remembered a story about it on the news. The glue factory closed and they moved something like five hundred barrels of the left over stuff here for storage.

I tried to use my bow but my hands were too slick and slimy.

Brick laughed and walked toward me but even he was having problems. The glue was all over the floor now and he was slipping and sliding too. I watched him, seeing how he lumbered about, trying to lift up his feet but unable to do so because the ground was too slick. It gave me an idea. I slipped and slid over to a stack of boxes. I ripped one open and saw small cans of industrial strength glue. I hefted one in my hand; it had the weight and size of a softball. It was a long shot but it was the best thing I had.

Brick wasn’t paying attention to me anymore. He was giving problems of his own. The glue hardened fast. It would have made me all stiff but my costume was made with a different polymer than everything else, it was meant to be versatile and that apparently include being glue proof---good to know. Brick was not so lucky. His body was already started to freeze up. Apparently, my exploding arrow blew up more than the floor, because Brick was covered in glue, everywhere except his head of course. That’s what I aimed for when I threw my can.

It hit him in the face and exploded, just like I thought it would. His entire head was covered in it. I didn’t stick around to see how things went. I slipped and slid toward the door of the warehouse, opening it up a bit. Police lights and camera lights were on me in a heartbeat. A couple of police officers came forward but kept their distance.

“Hold it right there” said one of the nearest officers.

I raised my hand, showing him I meant him no harm. “I stopped the Brick dude but you better hurry because I’m not sure how long that stuff is going to hold him.”

The officers were stunned for a few seconds but they snapped to it pretty quickly. They forgot about me for a moment as they rushed into the warehouse. I used that confusion as my time to escape. I slipped along the outside wall and ran for the alley in-between the two buildings. There were a lot of flashes and several of the reporters shouted at me but I ignored them. I turned only when someone asked my name. I wasn’t going to let them call me Miss Arrowette anymore.

“I’m the Green Arrow” I said and then ran off down the alley.