"Amanda confirmed that Slade Wilson is still in his cell on Lian Yu," Lyla's voice said clearly over Oliver's cell phone speaker. "And Lance confirmed that Felicity's ex-boyfriend and the Clock King are still in prison, too."

"Thanks," John Diggle replied to his wife, "What about Merlyn?"

"Can't be sure if he's in Nanda Parbat, but there's been no sign of him coming into the country."

"Okay."

Oliver watched Diggle methodically cross three names off the list they had compiled: Wilson, Cooper, Clock King. Digg left a question mark next to Merlyn's name. He had worked kidnappings in the past when he was in private security and assured Oliver this was the most effective way of narrowing down the suspects. To Oliver's mind, it was much too slow. He hadn't believed earlier that any of the names now crossed off were likely to have abducted Felicity – all they'd accomplished so far was to verify what he already knew. He was certain they should be focused on Palmer Technologies and Felicity's new-found wealth.

Diggle's pen was poised over Nyssa's name and he was just opening his mouth to ask Lyla when Oliver interrupted abruptly, "Anything more on Palmer Technologies?"

Diggle looked at him but said nothing.

"Not yet," Lyla responded. "The stock is mainly held by institutional investors – you know, mutual funds, pension plans. There's no obvious next-largest shareholder who would benefit from Felicity forfeiting her shares."

"What about employees?" Oliver asked, his fingers beating a rapid rhythm on the counter next to the phone. "I've got to believe there's some pissed off 50-year old VP who thought he was next in line to be CEO."

"Laurel's looking into it," Lyla answered.

"Laurel's a criminal attorney and not a corporate one," Oliver snapped. "Did anyone think to ask Walter Steele? He's got the pulse of most of the major corporations in Starling."

"Oliver, Laurel's got Walter..."

Lyla didn't get a chance to finish her sentence. A quick succession of beeps indicated another call was coming in. Oliver immediately hung up on Lyla to answer the new call.

"Yes?" He could hear the desperation in his own voice.

Apart from a crackle of static and a soft hiss, there was no response.

"Yes?" he repeated.

Another crackle and the call was dropped.

"Fuck!" Oliver closed his eyes briefly.

He looked at Diggle, "Do you think it was the kidnappers?"

"Did they hide the number?"

Oliver checked the call log. "No." It was a number he had never seen before.

Diggle shook his head, "Probably not the kidnappers. I don't think they'd give you something that could be traced."

"Cops?" Oliver asked.

"Did they leave a voicemail?"

Oliver looked at his phone, "No."

"Probably not the cops."

"Do you think," Oliver said slowly, hope beating in his chest, "that it could have been Felicity?"

Diggle hesitated, "I don't know, Oliver. If it was, then why didn't she say something?" After a second he added more positively, "I wouldn't put it past her to find a way to call, though."

"Think I should call back?"

They looked at each other. If it had been Felicity and his call let her captors know that she had reached them, it probably would not go well for her. On the other hand, if they could talk with her for even ten seconds, it might be enough time for her to tell them where she was or who took her. Oliver was rarely indecisive, but this was Felicity's life. The wrong move and she could be lost to him forever. He was pretty sure he saw the same uncertainty in John Diggle's eyes.

Digg inhaled slowly, "I don't think we should call. If she had to hang up, she probably didn't want whoever it was to know she was calling. I think we should have Cisco check out the phone number. Give it to the police as well."

Oliver nodded. He was picking up his phone to call Cisco, when it buzzed to signal an incoming text. At the same time, Diggle's phone chimed and Felicity's phone, still in the charger in a corner of the kitchen, vibrated energetically.

A quick series of text messages began to arrive:

I'm ok. Dont know whr I am. Drove abt 2.5 hrs.

Check my phne. Theres an app that can patch into this phne's GPS & track it. Look for grn & blck icon. Feed it ths nmbr.

I'm in a bathrm. 2 kidnprs so far but mre coming. Dont know who or why.

Dont call ths nmbr. Cant keep phne.

Love u. F.

There was a pause. Neither of them said anything – they looked at each other, scarcely daring to believe what had just happened.

Then John Diggle grinned suddenly, "That's our girl."

Felicity wasn't sure how much time she'd have before Young Kidnapper figured out that his phone was missing. If he were anything like her, he'd know it already. She typically got separation anxiety after just five minutes away from her phone.

When the call to Oliver was dropped she didn't bother trying a second time. The signal in the bathroom was weak and she figured she'd have a better chance at the text making it through. She hoped Oliver could figure out her phone tracking app. She assured herself that it was pretty self-explanatory and he wasn't a complete moron when it came to technology.

She had sent the text to Digg as well, trusting Oliver to let him know what was going on. Even though they hadn't patched things up, when she thought of all the people Oliver might ask for help there was really only one answer, and she didn't think it possible that John Diggle would refuse. She imagined the two of them sitting together, formulating a plan, and felt a tiny spark of happiness. If this kidnapping got the two of them talking, it would be a small silver lining in a very big cloud.

The only thing that remained was figuring out what to do with the phone. She'd eliminated all traces of her call and texts. A forensic expert could figure it out pretty quickly, but she doubted either of her kidnappers fit that bill. They didn't seem too interested in tech - the number of apps on Young Kidnapper's phone was surprisingly small. Apart from playing Angry Birds and a masochistic desire to follow the Oakland Raiders, it looked like he chiefly used his phone as a phone.

She knew she couldn't keep it. If they thought she'd gotten her hands on a phone and contacted anyone they would very likely move her. Likewise, if she destroyed it, Oliver wouldn't be able to track her. Her best bet was to place the phone someplace where Young Kidnapper would think he'd dropped it by accident, somewhere not accessible to her. The ideal outcome would be if he found it and just put it back into his pocket.

She lowered the ringer volume and walked to the bathroom door. She had a feeling that when she looked back on events days later, she was either going to consider this a wonderful idea or a brilliant mistake. Peering under the door, she looked for any indications of a shadow – a dark corner where a cell phone might fall unnoticed. She placed the phone on the floor, took a deep breath, then slid it as hard as she could out of the restroom and toward the darkness.

When she straightened up, she noticed that she'd left an obvious trail of bloody footprints leading from the cot to the door. Rather than try to remove them, she opted to limp painfully around the restroom, adding a series of prints leading to the sinks, a stall, and around the perimeter as if she'd been looking for escape options. She even availed herself of the toilet in one of the stalls because who knew when she'd have another opportunity? She then returned to sit on the cot. Things were once more out of her control and in the hands of fate.

She didn't have to wait too long. There were voices outside the door and the sound of a key being placed in the lock.

"You had it in the car…." Older Kidnapper was saying.

"Yes," Young Kidnapper agreed, as they walked in the door.

"So it's got to be around here somewhere."

Both of them stopped talking to stare at Felicity. Young Kidnapper's expression, which had been fairly gentle before, was clearly less benign now. She wondered if he'd figured out what she'd done and was angry with her – but too embarrassed or fearful to tell his partner.

"Stand up," Older Kidnapper ordered. There was nothing whatsoever gentle in his tone.

She obeyed, standing up with dread. She had a pretty good idea what was coming next. Sure enough, Older Kidnapper walked up to her and began running his hands over her body, searching for the phone. His exploration was very thorough – he checked under her breasts and between her legs – and for the first time that day, she felt her eyes fill with tears.

He shook his head, "She doesn't have it."

Young Kidnapper looked relieved. "Try calling it again."

Older Kidnapper hit a button on his phone and they all listened. The sound was faint, but a cell phone could be heard somewhere outside the restroom door. Young Kidnapper stepped out, his eyes on the ground.

"Got it," he called from outside. He stepped back into the restroom. "It must have fallen out of my pocket when we got to the top of the stairs."

Felicity hoped her sigh of relief wasn't noticeable.

"Everything look okay?" Older Kidnapper asked.

"Yeah, it's fine." Young Kidnapper said, as he looked at Felicity at little more kindly. "Sorry about the search," he added softly, "Let's take care of your feet."

Felicity sat down as he began pulling gauze, bandages and hydrogen peroxide out of a white drug store bag. Fifteen minutes later her feet were cleaned, packed with gauze, and wrapped neatly in two ACE bandages. There was nothing more for any of them to do but wait – her kidnappers for their boss, and Felicity for Oliver, hoping he got there first.

John Diggle had talked Oliver out of taking the Porsche. Yes it had tremendous speed and power, but it lacked a back seat and trunk space and, more importantly, it was very conspicuous. Instead, he drove the beat-up sedan he had borrowed from the naval base. Oliver, who had agreed with Digg's reasoning reluctantly, now showed his displeasure by grinding his teeth each time the car failed to respond promptly to Digg's foot on the accelerator.

John Diggle, in return, had allowed Oliver to talk him out of calling the police with the phone number. He'd agreed that it was important to move quickly, and that answering a long list of questions for Detective Zimmer was not likely to help Felicity. Instead, he simply loaded the large duffle bag of weapons into the trunk and climbed behind the wheel when Oliver jumped into the passenger seat.

The two of them drove as quickly as the non-turbo-charged car would let them, Oliver with his eyes glued on Felicity's cell phone and her tracker app. The route took them on and then off the freeway, passing through residential areas followed by sections of relatively unpopulated space, always staying near the coast. They talked little - there really wasn't much to say. Until they knew what they were facing it seemed useless to discuss a detailed plan, and they'd quickly fallen into their old working routine. Diggle couldn't help but think how much could things could change in a very short time. Eight hours ago he'd been in his kitchen serving his daughter breakfast. Now, with the mid-afternoon sun slanting through the car windows, he was headed toward an unknown destination about to face unknown forces with Oliver. It felt familiar and oddly right.

"We're getting close," Oliver's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Felicity's app says we're only a mile or so away."

"Are you planning to carry your bow once we get there?" Digg asked. "You don't have the mask or the hood. Someone sees how well you can shoot that thing and they're going to put two and two together."

"What else did you bring?"

"A couple Glocks, some tranquilizer darts, whatever the cops didn't take from the foundry. Should be enough to get the job done."

"Hmm," Oliver didn't sound convinced.

"Maybe we should just decide when we get there," Diggle offered.

"Which should be," Oliver said, looking at Felicity's phone, "right about now."

Digg pulled over to the side of the road. "Oh hell."

They were next to some kind of industrial park - one that appeared to be deserted. There were no signs of people or cars, just several warehouses, each large enough to house a jumbo-jet, as well as a few tractor-trailers. It looked vast and empty, and the number of places to hide a petite, blonde hostage seemed infinite. Diggle exhaled in frustration and looked at Oliver. "Any ideas?"

Oliver pulled out his cell phone and tapped it fiercely.

"What are you doing?" Digg asked.

"Calling Barry," Oliver replied. "It could take us a day to search this place. Barry can do it in a minute."

It was a good idea. Diggle held his breath as seconds passed with Oliver holding the phone to his ear, a scowl growing on his face when there was no answer. Oliver hung up and tried again. Nothing. He swore softly then stared at Digg. It looked like they were on their own.

John Diggle stepped out of the car to study their surroundings, doing his best to think logically. The building closest to them was some kind of warehouse, five stories high. There was a padlock on the door, and most of the windows were covered from the inside, blocking visibility into the building. None of the other warehouses seemed nearly as well protected. He heard the passenger door shut gently as Oliver got out of the car to join him.

"I think it's this one," Digg stated.

"Why?" Oliver asked.

"It's the only building that looks like it has something to hide."

Oliver stared at the building then said slowly, "Well, it's consistent with Felicity's tracker app. But it's huge. Even this one building could take us a couple of hours to search."

Diggle ran his hand over his short-cropped hair and thought about Felicity's texts. "She said she was being kept in a bathroom. Think about the warehouses you had at QC. Bathrooms are usually on the outside wall, often near the staircases."

"Yeah," Oliver said thoughtfully, "go on."

"We could split up," Digg suggested. "You start at the bottom floor, I'll start at the top. We go around the perimeter and check all the bathrooms. Felicity said there were only two guys holding her. Shouldn't be a problem for either one of us, unless more have showed up."

Oliver nodded, "We can stay connected by cell phone."

"Right," Diggle agreed, then added, "I've got bolt cutters in the bag that can probably cut that lock. What do you want to take for a weapon?"

Oliver gazed briefly off into the distance. "I think you're right about the bow," he said reluctantly, "Without the rest of my gear, it's going to be tough to carry everything and keep my hands free. I'll take a Glock." He looked at Diggle more decisively and added, "If I think Felicity's at risk, I'm not holding back. I don't want to kill anyone, but if it's a choice between them or her, well…there is no choice. I hope you'll do the same."

"No question about it," Diggle agreed.

He opened the duffle and handed Oliver a gun and several extra clips. In addition to his Glock, Diggle opted to take a tranquilizer gun and a few darts. Despite what he'd said to Oliver, he preferred the idea of disabling the kidnappers to killing them if it were at all possible.

The padlock on the door cut fairly easily, and they moved silently into the building. To Diggle's relief, the layout looked exactly as he predicted – a lot of empty space in the middle with most of the rooms on the perimeter. He called Oliver's cell phone so that the two of them were connected, then dropped his phone into his pocket.

He looked at Oliver, "Ready?"

Oliver nodded, all signs of anxiety and frustration suddenly gone. Diggle felt relieved. He'd been afraid Oliver would not be able to focus with Felicity at risk, but this was Oliver in battle mode – determined, centered, ready for anything. Digg thought about Detective Zimmer's words from earlier that day and realized the truth in them. He would not want to be the kidnappers either, if Oliver were the one to find them first.

They reached the stairway and Diggle headed up while Oliver headed down. When he got to the top floor Digg began walking as quietly as possible around the outside corridor. There was no sign of anyone. He'd half hoped and half dreaded that there would be guards posted outside a door, something to show him clearly where Felicity was located. Instead, he was going to have to stick to the plan of checking the restrooms one at a time. He found the first one and pushed slowly on the door. It opened easily and he found it empty. He continued around the perimeter until he found a second one – also empty.

When he pushed on the third restroom door it didn't open. He pushed a little harder and it still didn't budge. He also thought he heard muffled voices inside. He didn't waste any time.

"Felicity?" Digg called out.

The answer was prompt, "I'm in here, John."

"Are you near the door?"

"No..," her response was cut off.

Without hesitation, Diggle aimed his Glock and shot out the lock, kicking in the door immediately after. Felicity was in a corner of the bathroom, getting slowly to her feet. There were two men with her, both of them looking a little startled. The slim, darker man was reaching toward what looked like an ankle holster on his right leg. Digg shot him with a tranquilizer dart, then switched back to his Glock and said, "I'd stop right now, if I were you."

The man took one look at John Diggle and obeyed. His stockier, younger partner made no effort at all, just raising his hands slowly in the air. The whole thing had taken less than thirty seconds.

Felicity was hobbling toward him, her smile interspersed with occasional grimaces. Digg looked down and noticed that both her feet were wrapped in bandages. Apart from that, she looked remarkably good, her eyes clear and only a slight bruise on her face from where she'd been hit. She looked incredibly happy to see him.

"What did they do to your feet?" Digg asked worriedly.

She shook her head slightly, "Nothing that can't be fixed. It's a long story that we can save for the drive out of here. Their boss," she inclined her head toward the two men, "and God knows who else are supposed to arrive at any time. I suggest we leave."

Diggle nodded. The tranquilizer was beginning to take effect on the slim, dark kidnapper. His scowl had turned into a slightly vacant look and he slowly sank from his standing position to the floor, his back propped up against the wall. He appeared completely uninterested in his surroundings. Diggle looked at his younger partner and quickly shot him with a tranq dart as well.

Felicity looked at Digg and raised her eyebrows.

"Keep him from calling in the reinforcements," Digg explained.

She nodded, started toward the door and then stopped. "Do you have your phone? Can you take their picture?"

Digg could feel his brow furrow. "Run that by me again?"

"For facial recognition software – so I can check the databases when we get back. I still don't know who they are or why they took me."

Diggle smiled. Trust Felicity to think of grabbing photos of her abductors. He pulled out his phone and took the kidnappers' pictures. "Got 'em. Let's go."

Felicity took one last, quick look at the two men then walked out the door with Digg right behind her. Less than two minutes had elapsed.

They started down the hallway. Now that he'd recovered Felicity, Diggle was anxious to catch up with Oliver and get the hell out of this place. So far things had gone incredibly smoothly, but it could all change if they ran into any more kidnappers. He tried to pick up the pace, but Felicity was moving slowly and clearly wincing with every step. He stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Here, I can carry you, it'll be faster."

She frowned, "You're not going to toss me over your shoulder, are you? It's another long story, but I think I've had as much of that today as I can take. I'd like to keep my head right-side-up for a change."

Diggle paused. Carrying her over his shoulder was, in fact, exactly what he'd been planning to do. It would allow him to keep one hand free for his gun.

He was opening his mouth to explain that to her when he looked at Felicity's hopeful face and sighed, "Fine. Not over the shoulder. But you'll have to carry the Glock. Are you prepared to shoot someone with it?"

"Probably not, but you have my permission to drop me if it comes to that."

"Deal."

He chuckled, handed her the gun, then scooped her up and started down the corridor.

In the basement of the warehouse, Oliver heard Digg's voice over his cell phone say 'Felicity?' followed almost immediately by a gunshot. He didn't bother to listen any further, just ran down the hallway and headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Somewhere in the back of his mind it registered that he hadn't heard any additional shots. He didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

He burst out of the doorway on the top floor and looked across the large and mostly empty space in front of him. His heart soared when he saw Felicity's blonde head in the distance next to Digg's, then plummeted when he realized that Digg was carrying her and something must be wrong. He sprinted toward them, not even checking for signs of the kidnappers.

As he got near, he felt some reassurance when Felicity looked at him and smiled, no sign of pain or fear on her face. Things got even better when Diggle wordlessly handed her over, and she put her arms around his neck and her lips to his ear and said softly, "I'm okay, Oliver." He clasped her tight against his chest and felt like he could breathe normally for the first time that day. He kissed the top of her head lightly and smiled back.

Diggle cleared his throat, "We should get out of here. I tranq'ed the two guys that were holding her, but Felicity says more are expected to arrive."

Oliver nodded, and the three of them headed down the stairs, Felicity in his arms with her face pressed lightly into his shoulder. Every now and then she'd squeeze his arm or the back of his neck as if to convince herself that it really was him. Oliver understood that perfectly. They exited the building into the bright sunlight and headed toward the car. After everything that had happened, it was hard to believe it was still the same day. Oliver felt like he had lived at least two lifetimes in less than twelve hours.

An SUV pulled up just as they were getting into their car. Oliver thought briefly about trying to subdue and interrogate the passengers, but there were four men and what appeared to be a decent amount of firepower in the SUV. Instead he quickly shot out a tire, then literally threw Felicity in the back seat of their car and jumped in next to her.

"Drive!" he ordered Digg. They pulled away, tires squealing.

A/N:

Felicity owes a nod to Elvis Costello for her thoughts on disposing of the cell phone. It was a fine idea at the time, now it's a brilliant mistake is from his song The King of America.

Thanks to the reviewers, and folks who fav'd and followed this story. I didn't realize how motivating it could be until folks started doing it. It really makes me want to get back in front of the keyboard.

And finally, apologies to Raiders fans...