The scent of cigarette smoke wafted down into their hiding spot and the proximity of the enemy struck Oliver and Jim even harder. They were so close. The soldiers could not have picked a worse spot to take a smoke break then there.

Oliver closed his eyes as he slowly let out the breath he'd been holding since Betsy first signaled to them that something was wrong. The grip on his makeshift weapon, the hard metal of his belt buckle, tightened as the conversation above him seem to go on forever.

The pulse of his heartbeat got louder and louder in his own ears as the fear of being caught hung over him. If they were found would they take them as prisoners of war? Would they kill them?

Jim nudged him and Oliver looked into his eyes and saw only steely determination. They'd make it out of this just like they made it out of an impossible crash landing.

Then the voices begun to move off and after a few minutes the barn returned to it's stoic, peaceful quiet, but Oliver and Jim still didn't move. The adrenaline and shock of the surprise search still lingered in their veins.

As night fell and the hole got dark again, Isaac returned.

"That search today was too close. We need to move you tonight,"

"To where?" Oliver asked, as he helped Jim stand and then leaned under his arm to grab unto his body to help him walk.

"We are lucky the moon is not full. We use the river. Come,"

The three men quietly and slowly, Jim's body tight and stressed as he leaned against Oliver, walked towards the riverbank of one of the many water arteries that rambled through miles and miles of the Netherlands.

Hidden in the tall weeds was a boat with Hans and three of Oliver's flight crew waiting in it.

"I leave you here. Hans will take you to the next rally point. We have already sent four others to Rotterdam. You meet your men there,"

Oliver found Isaac's arm and squeezed. Isaac nodded back and said, "Go!"

Hans stood up and with the help of the rest of the crew, Oliver and Jim boarded the crowded boat. Low murmurs of relief and happiness to see friends was quickly whispered before Hans put his boat oars in the water and they set off.

With the rhythmic sound of the oars gliding through the water and the faint silhouette of Isaac disappearing in the distance, Oliver looked forward into the darkness of what lie ahead.

######

Felicity woke with a start. The blackness of the cloudy night made the faint glow of the neighborhood street lamp cast a dirty gray across the ceiling of her bedroom. She could not remember what she had been dreaming about, but goosebumps lingered on her skin and she felt...unsettled.

She turned over and pulled her blanket over her head. In the cocoon of her warm familiar bedsheets she took deep breaths and tried to remember a happy moment. A quiet smile and the scent of chocolate came to mind. Oliver.

With the pleasant memory came the tide of gnawing worry that always hovered. Thinking of him was bittersweet.

######

Rotterdam. Oliver knew that it was a major seaport in southern Holland. The Resistance was going to try and smuggle them out via the large city. It was smart and undoubtedly dangerous. Hell, everything about being behind enemy lines was dangerous.

"Quiet," Hans urgently whispered, lifting the palm of his hand to still any movement, as he guided the boat towards a shadowed area of the shore. They all sat in the boat watching him and listening for any signs of danger.

Activity from the opposite bank, about a half mile downriver, caught everyone's attention. German troops.

######

Felicity absentmindedly stirred the hot cup of tea she had just brewed in the bustling canteen at work. Her sleepless night making her a little distracted that morning. The unease from her dreams remained.

"Morning," Laurel said as she poured some steaming hot water into her cup and then added some cream.

"Morning,"

"You look tired. More dreams?"

"More dreams. I still can't remember them, but I feel them…,"

"I talked with Tommy last night. I'm sorry Felicity, there still isn't any word about Oliver."

It had been almost two weeks since Tommy had told them about Oliver's crash and it felt like forever for Felicity. And for Laurel as well, Felicity thought. She knew Laurel dreaded Tommy's next mission. She wanted Tommy to heal, but with that came the resumption of his responsibilities.

"No news could be a good thing, right?" Felicity asked attempting to remain strong.

"Yes,"

######

Flashlight beams flickered as men on bicycles arrived and mingled with the German soldiers. Tense voices both sharp and murmured traveled over the calm river waters for Oliver and his crew to hear.

What was going on? Oliver hated not being able to act. Helplessness did not suit him and from the nervous energy of the rest of his men, it did not sit well with them either.

For some reason the group of soldiers moved inland and followed the beams of the now retreating flashlights.

Hans eased the boat forward; staying close to the opposite river bank and rowed them past the German check point.

After they safely got out of earshot of the soldiers Oliver asked, "What happened back there?"

"Dutch police. They are Resistance, too. Help to distract Germans when needed," Hans explained, a smirk growing bigger on his lips as the pride in his country men showed.

Oliver and his men could only smile back at him as the feeling of amazement overtook the dread that had eclipsed them moments earlier. Incredible.

######

Oliver was so exhausted. His eyes heavy and stinging from the lack of sleep and proper nourishment. He wasn't angry about it. In fact, feeling anything at this point was still a god send. He and his men were alive. They were alive and there were incredibly brave people in this upside down and crazy world and he was so grateful.

No one on the boat had slept as they all took turns with Hans rowing them west on the river all night. As far as Oliver could tell it was about two hours before sunrise.

"Here," Hans said after hours of complete silence. An old decrepit home rested by the riverbank and a delivery truck sat alone along the back wall hidden from the main road.

"He take you from here. To Rotterdam," Hans said as a man, nondescript with a cap low over his head with his face hidden in the shadows, emerged from the bushes by the truck and signaled them with a white handkerchief.

They all piled off the boat, each man taking one last look at Hans as he pushed the boat off shore. That smirk of his making a final appearance as he drifted away.

"Quickly, come. Hide in the back," The man from the bushes said, as he directed them to climb into the back of the delivery truck. Bags and bags of potatoes were stacked to the ceiling of the truck bed as they all made their way to the small, dark area towards the front of the truck left for them to sit down. They all sat down, uncomfortably with their legs up against their chests, as the man in the cap pushed stacks of bags to conceal them in.