Dinah sighed as Oliver twisted under the loose bed covers beside her. He had been in a foul mood ever since returning from the fundraiser. She had inquired about how the evening went, but was met with nothing but one or two word answers and a scowl so hard, even Killer Frost herself would have been frozen in her tracks.
“Ollie, it’s five o’clock in the morning, and I’ve had no sleep. And I need sleep, oh for a couple of hours of sleep. Please… Please, just go out and patrol the city or something.”
“Fine.” He replied, unemotionally.
“Ollie..” she called out after him as he grabbed his pants and stalked out of the room, “Ollie… don’t be like that…” But he had gone..
Shrugging into his clothes he marched into his living room, picking up the morning paper.
Anger exploded inside him as he saw the headline - “Queen Foundation Hostel a death trap”
****
Looking down at the table, he picked up the business card given to him earlier that night by Mr Base, giving no thought to the earliness of the hour. He needed to call Mr Base.
Unknown to Oliver, Mr Base was a high-level telepath calling himself “The Corruptor” -, who specialised in boosting negative emotions and thoughts. Loving to slowly drag the most noble down to depths of depravity. Mr Base was nothing but a somewhat humorous alias he had picked for himself. But likewise, though known as one of America’s greatest philanthropists, the Corruptor knew nothing of Oliver’s other life as the heroic Green Arrow.
His call was picked up quickly. A feeling of relief flooded through Oliver as he heard Mr Base’s voice inside the speaker. “Hello, Arnold Base. Property trader”.
“Its me, Oliver Queen.” an irrational feeling of doubt grabbed him. “We spoke earlier, at the fundraiser.”
“Of course, How could I forget? Such a shame our conversation was about your recent… misfortune.”
Oliver snorted. “Misfortune? No, nothing but character assassination. Have you seen today’s papers Mr Base?”
“No, since getting back from the gala, I’ve been… meditating. It helps me see things more clearly.”
“Well, I have. I have a copy of this morning’s Star City Sentinel in my hand right now.” looking down, Oliver read out the headline - “Queen Foundation Hostel a death trap - vulnerable teenage girl escapes inferno”
He threw the paper to the ground. “And the ungrateful bitch says I put her into danger? That I personally am responsible for the riot and fire? That it was my fault a fire escape was locked. That she could have died because of me!”
Mr Base “It is most unfortunate, but people like the people you “help”… people of no worth to themselves or others… they don’t understand values. They don’t understand generosity, honesty or decency. She took your kindness like a thief, giving nothing back in return.”
Oliver couldn’t be stopped, his voice rising to a loud rant. “And to think before I took her in. Before I gave her a roof and food, she was a prostitute and user. Without me she would have been dead six months ago!”
“She was a hooker? So, the thieving little cunt has something she can give in return for your charity.” He purred down the phone. “Get her to turn tricks for you.”
Oliver held the phone in silence. His mind conflicted. The Corruptor smiled in anticipation, knowing that the kind-hearted businessman was on the verge of breaking. Oh the delicious energy between them - he could feel it, even over the cell-phone connection. Just one or two more arguments to convince him. “After all…” he began, his voice like liquid honey, “without your generosity, she’d be living and working on the street; the target for all sorts of perverts and weirdos. With you, she’ll have protection, security.”
Oliver rubbed his temple. What Mr Base was saying should be absolutely ludicrous. Somehow, deep inside, he knew that it was horrific, the absolute opposite of everything him and his charity stood for. But this thought fed no emotion - no concern, no fear, no sadness - nothing. Not like the anger he felt as how his generosity had been abused by so many. Not like the humiliation he felt as having the hostel’s destruction reported on every television screens and front pages across the country. Not like the disgust he felt for these… these parasites who thought they could suck the blood from decent, hard working Americans.
“Ungrateful whore. If the bitch is going to be on her back, she may as well be earning her keep.” he snarled. “Teach the loose little slut the value of working for a living.”
Mr Base continued his verbal and mental manipulation, his voice hissing into Oliver’s ear. “I see you agree. I’m so glad you’ve come around to my point of view Mr Queen.”
Oliver smiled, “No, thank you Mr Base. You’re a true friend. I see now I’ve been wasting my time with these cockroaches, not having the guts to do what’s right. Thank you. Things are going to change at the Queen Foundation.”
The Corruptor’s smile was so wide, it looked like his head would split open, as he purred down the line. “Oh Mr Queen, I’m sure this is only the beginning of a new era of greatness for you and your foundation.”