falcon [sara lance]

24

"That's who was the last face your brother saw, the one who took the final blow," Eobard told her, pointing to the last person.

"Who is she?" Callie asked, a sudden bloodlust inside of her being awakened at the thought of his girl killing her brother in cold blood.

"That's Sara Lance."

//.//

"So this Rip Hunter guy, he'll lead us to the woman who killed my brother?" Callie asked as she walked in between her father as his platinum-haired associate. They were walking through 1967 California, on the orders of Eobard. She looked to her father as he nodded back at her, rubbing her back lightly as he agreed with her statement.

"Wherever Rip Hunter goes, the Legends arent far behind," Darhk answered verbally, adjusting the hat he had fixed upon his head. Noticing the lack of heat and sun, he scoffed as the trio walked shoulder by shoulder down the pathway.

"So much for sunny California," Damien joked, causing Callie to snort lightly at his point. She had never really been to California much, but when Oliver's father had taken them on trips as youngsters, she remembered it being much warmer and remarkably sunnier.

"When we're done here, we need to go to the 1600 block of Vine Street," Malcolm said, a giddy tone to his voice as he thought about finally getting to see one of his favourite tributes to his favourite singer.

Callie rolled her eyes, having heard from her dad many times about why he wanted to see the star on the Walk of Fame. She was sure that he would forever be sad that he hadn't became an actor instead of a business man in his past.

"Why, pray tell?" 

"It's where Frank Sinatra's star is on the Walk of Fame," Callie answered for the man, rolling her eyes to show Darhk that she didn't share the same interest in sightseeing as her father did. She felt the cold metal of her father's replacement hand rest on her shoulder as he waved a hand in the air.

"I have always wanted to see it."

"I'm not sure if that's part of our little trinket's itinerary," Damien sassed back, holding the amulet up to remind the Merlyn's what the stakes were. Eobard was promising them the chance to change reality as they knew it, all if they just followed his plan.

"I said when we're done. As far as magical artifacts go, this one is frustratingly unspecific." 

"Actually, like most magical artifacts, its ways are nuanced," Darhk began, but he was cut off by Malcolm as the man scoffed at his usage of words. It was like he purposely picked stupid words just to wind him up.

"That's just a fancy word for vague."

They continued to walk down the street for a minute before Callie paused, causing the two men to stop and turn back to see why she had stopped. Her eyes were trailing away down a back alley, and they moved to see what she was looking at.

"I'm getting tired of walking." 

"True, we could use some transportation," Damien agreed, seeing the exact same thing that she was. 

The three assassins dashed across the road and into the alley, Callie clicking the bones in her fingers as they approached the three motorcyclists. Slowly her pace, she walked slightly behind her two associates as she winked at one of the bikers. The man smirked back, before his attention was turned to Damien and Malcolm.

"Afternoon, fellas!" Damien said as the three men dismounted their bikes and began to advance towards them. Callie felt a bigger grin fall on to her lips as she watched them bring out knives from their pockets. She almost felt sorry for them, they had certainly picked the wrong people to try and mug.