This story is an AU version of the Season 4 Flashbacks, in which Oliver is tricked into going back to Lian Yu, and is ordered to infiltrate Baron Reiter's drugs operation. I thought the flashbacks could benefit through the addition of a bit of Felicity Smoak, M.I.T., class of '09. Doesn't everything?


Chapter 1


Felicity pulled the life jacket on with an ever increasing sense of disbelief. How could this be happening? She'd just been flown out to Hong Kong for a job interview, which had gone so well! Her head was still full of the amazing future that could be hers if she was chosen for the job. And now she was on the way home. Except the captain's words were still ringing in her ears - the plane was going down. Fine, so the words 'emergency landing' had been used, but what were they landing on?

Felicity instinctively looked out of the window. It was a bright sunny day, and all she could see was water. Well, yeah, Felicity. Ergo, life jackets. One thought would not be suppressed: how the hell could they land here? She tried to follow the instructions she could hear being yelled across the aisle, but it was difficult, through the other passengers' loudly expressed panic. She secured the life-jacket with clumsy fingers, fighting her disbelief and denial. This was just a misunderstanding. These things didn't happen, not to her.

The sound of a tone from the cabin speakers snapped her out of the trance, and she relaxed, relieved. She was sure the message was going to be reassuring, the emergency over, a mistake. She'd never been so wrong.

"This is the captain. Brace for impact."

As though the captain's words had flicked a switch in his crew, the flight attendants started yelling.

"Heads down! Brace! Brace! Brace!"

Felicity quickly folded over and wrapped her arms under her seat as far as she could, thankful that she'd watched the in-flight instruction video on the flight to Hong Kong. As the next few seconds passed, the feeling of unreality heightened, like a vivid nightmare – only she had the sneaking suspicion that she wasn't going to wake up from this one. The whining sound of the engines grew louder and louder, turning into a scream. Felicity felt like she was losing her mind as the sound drowned out the flight attendants, who were still yelling 'Brace!' at the top of their voices, some passengers who were screaming, and the children (oh, the children, she thought later, filled with horror) crying. The plane hit the water with a jarring crash she felt in her bones. Then she knew no more.

When she came to, she was on the surface of the water, still strapped into her row. The seats on either side of her had been empty, and it was ironic how much she regretted something that she'd been happy about when she boarded the plane. Logically, she knew she'd only been out for a few seconds. She was so completely disoriented, it could have been days.

She looked around her, dazed, and couldn't believe how sharp everything looked, how clear and distinct each wave seemed. She raised her hand to her face and realised her glasses were still on. The idea was ludicrous. The whole plane was gone. Everyone except her was . . . gone. But her glasses were fine.

A giggle escaped her mouth, and she clapped a hand over it. She couldn't. She couldn't lose it now. She was alone in the middle of an ocean, and she had to hold it together.

She inflated her life jacket quickly, and when she realised her row was sinking, and pulling her down with it, she unbuckled her seat-belt. She looked around her again, her horror increasing. Where was the plane? Here and there she could see some debris floating around, only to sink, as though trying to escape her gaze. The seat which had been under her did the same, and she tried to swim away from it, but she wasn't sure which direction to pick.

The first time she glimpsed something brightly coloured, and thought it might be a life raft, or another survivor, it turned out to be the body of a woman in a flowered dress. When she swam away, trying to control her dry heaves, she spotted one of the emergency slides and headed towards it. When she reached it, she was already exhausted, and could barely hold on. Just as she was on the verge of letting go, a hand clamped onto her arm, and dragged her out of the water.

Her relief at finding another survivor was short lived, though. She was face to face with one of the male flight attendants, but he looked badly hurt, his white shirt soaked with blood. He seemed to have used the last of his strength to pull her up, and quickly lost consciousness.

As the day went by, and the sun slowly sank into the sea (or the ocean, she had no idea where they were), Felicity tried to list what she knew. She had no food or water. She had a light, attached to the life jacket, and a whistle, but the only way that would help was if there were boats around. Or rescue helicopters. But all that she could see around her was darkness, and above her the sky was lit by a beautiful moon and millions of uncaring stars. The flight attendant was still unconscious, his breaths getting harsher by the minute. She'd never felt so alone.

The sunrise brought hope, or at least, land. They must have moved quite a distance during the night. To be honest, Felicity thought, the island looked strange and forbidding, all jagged edges and towering cliffs. And at first she was afraid that the current would take them past it, or dash them to pieces on the rocks. But the swells weren't strong that morning, and she managed to paddle along, directing the life raft towards a small inlet she spotted. Once they were inside, away from the open sea, she dared to jump out, and suppressed a shout of joy when she realised she could stand upright. There were pebbles under her feet, and she was seized by a moment of euphoria. This was land! Land meant people! And water. Oh God, she was so thirsty. Just a bit more effort, she thought, as she pulled the life raft ashore, and collapsed on the mix of pebbles and sand that covered the shoreline. She knew she should get up, try to find people, something. But just the effort of getting to shore had been so exhausting, her eyelids felt like they were weighed down. Just a few seconds, she promised herself. Then she'd get up.

When she woke up, the sun was warm on her face. She blinked a couple of times, unsure where she was, and it took a few seconds for her to remember the last day – the plane crash, the life raft, the island. Her clothes felt dry, so she must have been asleep for a few hours. But what had woken her up? Just then, a shadow blocked out the sun above her, and, as she slowly raised her eyes, she realised that there was somebody else on the beach. She started up with a gasp. The man was standing with the sun behind him, so she had to shade her eyes to get an idea of what he looked like, and it was only a vague idea at first – close cropped hair, beard, fatigues, heavy machine gun cradled against his chest. Even as her mind started cheering and burbling about rescue, some details started clamouring for attention. Like the way his finger was resting on the trigger of his scary looking gun. Or the way he was looking at her, speculatively, with a slightly unpleasant smile.

"Well, hello, darlin'. Where'd you come from?"

Huh. He was American. She was still feeling disoriented enough to try to explain herself.

"Yesterday – I was on a plane. We went down . . . somewhere . . . "

She waved distractedly out to sea, and was struck by a dizzying feeling of vertigo. Had she really been on a plane? What was she doing on this island? And who was this guy? The smirk never dropped off his face.

"Is that right? We saw that bird go down, yesterday. Didn't look like anyone survived that."

For the first time in her life, Felicity didn't blurt out the first thing that came to mind. Maybe she was still in shock, or light-headed because she was dehydrated. But she didn't ask him why no-one had sent a rescue party to check for survivors, or offer to show him her boarding pass, which, oh wait, was at the bottom of the ocean, along with a hundred passengers and crew. Though even her sudden inexplicable terror and suspicion couldn't stop her from pointing to the life-raft which she'd dragged to shore.

"There's someone else – one of the crew. But I think he's hurt pretty bad-"

She turned to where she'd left the life-raft, and there was another fatigues-wearing man staring at it, pointing his gun at the only other survivor of the crash. Two gunshots rang out and she jumped. She clapped her hand over her mouth, desperate to stop the screams which were building up in her. They'd killed him. And she was next. She stared at the bearded man, eyes filled with tears, and he gave her a leer.

"Oh, honey, he was never gonna make it. But don't worry, stick by me and I'll take care of you."

Felicity's horror was gradually becoming anger. Who did this asshole think he was? He's the guy with the gun, Felicity, a terrified part of her mind whimpered. Thankfully, a new voice interrupted her before she could say something she'd no doubt regret later.

"Conklin!"

The abrupt bark caused an impressive change in the man's expression. They both looked to their left, and Felicity felt a tiny spark of hope grow inside her, as striding towards them, came the man who gave the orders, judging by the way Conklin practically stood at attention, now.

As soon as the boss-man was face to face, the spark of hope was extinguished. Her nausea and terror were replaced with a sensation that could only be described as a frozen kind of fear, like she'd been encased in carbonite. The two guys who'd found her on the beach were just thugs. This man was the real thing. As she stared into his eyes, she had an insane rambling memory of being terrified by the thought of sharks attacking them, as they floated along on the life-raft. But the real shark was here all along, she thought – his eyes seemed dead, expressionless. The twitch didn't help, either. He was talking to her, and she had to make an effort to understand what he was saying.

"My name is Reiter. You need to come with us."

Conklin kept a hand on her arm the entire time they walked towards the camp.

.


Notes:

Please don't ask me how Felicity survived the plane crash.

I'm trying with shorter chapters with this story - maybe my updates will be quicker that way.