First of I need to thank medicgirl for all the kind words she has sent my way, and for PMing me this awesome idea for a story. When I read your idea I immediately thought it deserved its own story and not just a part of my h/c series.
"I would love to read a story where Oliver and Roy (or maybe Diggle, but not one of the girls… that would be less brothers-in-arms, more soap opera, ya know?) get captured and Oliver knows something but instead of torturing him, they make him watch as they hurt Roy. Not slash or anything, but kinda the little brother relationship… And Oliver's own conscience would kill him…"
Thank you for letting me play around with your idea!
I love(d) it!
They sped across the back road of the small town. Oliver in lead position, Roy right behind him. Each on a midnight black motorcycle.
This was far off their usual jobs. It wasn't Starling City, it wasn't even in the U.S., or Northern America for that matter… Nope, this was Norway.
A cold and unforgivable country about 60-70 percent of the year, but the landscape was terrific! It was one of those few places, maybe even the only one, were Bear Grylls just had to admit he was out of his field of knowledge and just had to give in… It was that country…
Taken in considering that Norway was one of the wealthiest countries in the world, the roads were surprisingly poor. There were cracks all over the asphalt… Dangerous hazards for anyone who dared to face the road with less than four wheels. Oliver had already felt his front wheel get caught in the cracks twice today, and it made his heart skip a beat every time it happened. And each time he was just as surprised to find that he hadn't taken an involuntary flying lesson which always ended with a nice case of good old-fashioned road rash.
Another thing that was uncommon for this gig, was that they weren't chasing someone right now. They were being chased.
Chased by five Yamaha YZ450F's. Those bikes seemed to have been made for this specific purpose. Chasing racing-bikes down old poor-quality roads at the end of September, in no-where, Norway, at night.
The wheels on the bikes chasing them were all terrain, and the bikes themselves were also made for driving just about anywhere…
Their own bikes on the other hand, well… It was racing-bikes... With slicks tires… Perfect if the asphalt you drive on is nice, dry and whole… Not so good if the road is full of potholes, water, sand, gravel and cracks…
Not only was the road-quality poor, the structure of the road were poor-planned too… Or well… It wasn't meant for this kind of driving… The correct way to put it was that the Norwegian roads was developed to fit the Norwegian terrain…
The roads twisted and turned at every turn of the terrain…
…
It was way past sunset, stars lighted up the sky and it would have been a beautiful sight if it hadn't been for the guys chasing them…
The frigid weather chilled them as they drove 60mph (almost 100kph) down roads where you would usually drive no more than 60kph (right below 40 mph) if you were in a hurry…
Oliver could no longer feel his fingers as he twisted the throttle grip further around, driving as fast as the road would let him.
He could hear Roy revving the engine behind him, closing the gap Oliver had created. Their bikes were faster, more aggressive, and on an open road they would easily have left their followers in a cloud of dust.
But this was Norway… Land of potholes and curves that were portioned the wrong way, leaning out of the turn instead of into it…
"We've got to slow down a bit before that next curve, looks like it might be a sharp bend!" Oliver informed Roy through the radio in their helmets.
"Copy that!" Roy answered as he moved his bike into a better position as they headed towards the turn.
They slowed down to about 45 mph, hoping that that would be the sweet spot between making the turn and still keeping ahead of their chasers.
It turned out to be the fastest speed their bikes would possibly make it through the bend at, as they skidded a bit before they were able to straighten out of the curve again, but they were too slow to avoid being caught by the bikes behind them.
Oliver didn't know exactly what happened. One second he was speeding down the country road, the next one, he was skidding along the surface of the road begging that he wouldn't hit any trees or other vehicles before he stopped.
In the blur of headlights and motion, he could see another bike going down as well. It was Roy's bike, the only other bike with two separate high beams.
The chasers pulled to a halt, three of them got off their bikes to get Roy and Oliver, while one of the two others called up someone and spoke in Norwegian. The last one turned his bike around and headed off in the opposite direction. God knows why…
They guys first went for Roy, as Oliver was partially trapped with his right leg caught under the almost 500 lbs motorcycle.
They picked him up from where he was trying to scramble to his feet, two held him upright, one took off his helmet and landed a massive punch square to the side of his head knocking him out cold…
They left Roy in a heap as they moved over to Oliver, who still was trapped with his leg stuck under the tank. He tried to wiggle loose, but there was no use… He might as well have been trapped under an army tank…
The guys stopped a few feet away from him and muttered something in Norwegian, then looked from one to another… They discussed some more, and then agreed on something.
-Oliver had no clue what…
They went along with a different procedure for him. They took his helmet off first, leaving the heavy bike on top of him before they knocked him out too…
Well...
Let's just say that I try to drag this one out a bit...
I could have written this whole thing in about 2 500 words in total, but I TRY to make it 10k...
Try...
Hope you liked the start!