It Runs in the Family, Chapter 9 (10/14)
Author: dettiot
Rating: T
Summary: Felicity Stark is the best of her parents. But becoming vice-president of a brand-new division of Stark Industries and moving to Starling City will test her in ways she never thought possible. Especially when a masked vigilante in green leather crosses her path. An Arrow/Iron Man crossover.
Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, Iron Man or the Marvel Cinematic Universe. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: [rubs hands together] I am really proud of this chapter. I hope you all enjoy what happens, because I think there's some moments in here that can compare to what we've seen on Arrow. At least, I hope so! Tell me if you agree.
XXX
Oh-so-slowly, Felicity drifted back to consciousness. Blinking her eyes, she tried to move, only to gasp when she realized she couldn't-and that her gasp was strangely muffled.
The fog in her mind began to lift as she took in the ropes that bound her to a desk chair and she prodded the gag, tied tightly over her mouth, with her tongue. Then she lifted her head and looked around. It was cold and dimly-lit, wherever she was. And echoing, like it was a big room without any furniture . . .
A warehouse, she thought, the word finally coming to her.
Why was she in a warehouse? She never went to warehouses, except for that one party, the summer after her freshman year at MIT, the one with the music and the tattooed guy who wanted to give her some X . . .
Felicity shook her head and winced. "Ow," she said, even though the gag made the word indistinct. After all those times she thought people wanted to gag her in order to stop her babbling, someone finally did it. She wondered who.
And why couldn't she focus?
Taking in a deep breath through her nose, Felicity gave her head a good shake, nice and hard. Stars appeared behind her eyes and her head throbbed, but the pain chased away the fogginess. It let her think.
She was gagged and tied to a chair, in some kind of warehouse. She was hungry and thirsty, but thankfully there was no sign she needed a bathroom. Her glasses were missing. She was Felicity Stark, and the last thing she remembered-
Gerry! Malcolm Merlyn had-Oliver, her processor, oh, God-Malcolm Merlyn was going to kill her.
Especially when he found out she didn't have her processor and she wouldn't tell him where it was. And she wouldn't tell him who was keeping it safe.
Her breath was coming fast, too fast. But she couldn't seem to get enough air-she felt dizzy and lightheaded-
That's because you're hyperventilating! shrieked a voice in her head that sounded like Caitlin. Breathe slowly.
It took her a moment or two, but she managed to slow down her breathing. Felicity's panic eased enough that she didn't feel like she was going to pass out.
Because she couldn't pass out and she couldn't panic. She had to figure out what she was going to do. Or, more precisely, how. Because there was no way she would let Malcolm Merlyn touch her processor. Whatever he wanted it for, it couldn't be good. And she was pretty sure her opinion wasn't influenced by the knee-jerk shudder she always felt whenever she encountered Malcolm. The whole multiple kidnappings and threats were enough to make her not trust him. And he was probably responsible for the hacking attempts on SI!
When he found out she wouldn't-and couldn't-give her the prototype, Malcolm would get mad. He . . .
Felicity swallowed, her throat dry. He would torture her.
Maybe that wasn't what he would do. Maybe she had seen too many movies. Perhaps he'd just kill her. But somehow, she knew Malcolm would do anything to get her processor. After all, he had already done plenty of things to try and get her tech. And if he was going to kill her once he got it, what did it matter what he did before that?
Tears filled her eyes and Felicity bowed her head. She couldn't do this. She wasn't a hero. She had never wanted her father's life, or Natasha's-she had never wanted to be like the Avengers. She wasn't cut out for it.
All she wanted was to use computers to improve people's lives. And she wanted to live her life-to be successful, to spend more time with the people she loved, to grow old with someone and be happy.
Felicity Stark was not ready to be tortured to death in order to stop the as-yet-unknown plans of a madman.
I believe in you.
Oliver's voice was so clear and distinct that Felicity's head jerked up, looking around wildly. Was he here?
But the warehouse was empty. She was all alone.
The tears started again, Felicity giving in to them wholly. She cried like a little girl would, without restraint, and she wished that was what she was. A little girl who knew that her daddy would keep all the monsters away.
Her father would be crushed by her death. Both her parents would, Felicity knew. Everyone thought Pepper was an ice queen, but Felicity knew her mother's grief would be deep and dark and endless. So would her father's, but Tony would probably cause a lot of explosions, too, and get drunk-oh, no, he'd really go off the wagon because of her. She knew there had been talk of rehab before her parents got together, that her father had barely managed to not get lost in the easy relief of alcohol. But if he lost his only daughter, how would her dad cope? How would her mom?
How would Oliver?
The tears came with a vengeance as Felicity thought of leaving Oliver. Of all his progress being wiped out, of his kindness and goodness being burned away in his despair. And Felicity hated that she was going to die without telling Oliver that she loved him. That their last conversation was so jokey, about not wanting to ride his stupid motorcycle again . . .
She lost track of time as she cried, as she thought about everything she was going to lose, as she thought about all the chances she was missing. All the people that would hurt because she wouldn't be there. Maybe it was self-centered of her to worry that they couldn't go on without her, but Felicity just knew, in her bones, that her parents and Oliver and Caitlin and all her other friends would have trouble with going on after she was gone.
So what are you going to do about it?
The phrase that echoed in her mind had the calmness of her mother, the directness of Caitlin, the cocky insistence of her father, and the belief of Oliver. It was like the people that mattered most to her were trying to send her a message.
But I can't do anything, Felicity thought bitterly. I'm tied up, I can't talk, there's no tech around . . . I can't do anything to save myself.
And as soon as that thought was in her head, Felicity felt angry. No, she was furious. Malcolm Merlyn might be ready to torture her-his plans might be to kill her-but that didn't mean she should just let it happen. He wasn't going to get her processor. And Felicity was damned if he would get the satisfaction of making her beg or plead for anything.
No. She was Felicity Stark. She wasn't very strong, but she was strong enough to make this hard for Malcolm Merlyn.
At least that way, she could die honestly.
XXX
The light in the warehouse had dimmed and the sky, visible through the small windows at the very top of the building, had gone a pale blue-gray by the time that Malcolm Merlyn arrived.
As the hours passed, Felicity had managed to hold on to her anger, using it as a way to ignore her physical discomfort. Her hunger and thirst were sharp and stabbing, contrasting with the utter numbness of her hands and feet. And so was her ass-sitting for hours without being able to shift her position was more painful than she had realized.
A loud clang, then a creak and a bang, drew Felicity out of her thoughts. She squinted, wishing she had her glasses, as she tried to see what was happening in the half-light.
The soft thud of what sounded like boots echoed through the warehouse and Felicity drew herself up in her chair. Her gag tightened, someone's hands working on it, and then the fabric loosened and fell away from her mouth.
And then Malcolm Merlyn stepped out from behind her, dressed in some kind of all-black costume with studded straps and a hood, and held a bottle of water to her lips. "You must be thirsty."
Her mouth felt like a desert and her lips were chapped, but the last thing she wanted was to take anything from him. But she didn't have much of a choice, did she? She needed water. So Felicity slowly opened her mouth and took a few sips of the water, each drop feeling colder and wetter and better than anything she had ever drunk before.
Too soon, Merlyn drew the bottle away and capped it, tossing it aside. Felicity did her best to keep her eyes on him and not follow the arc of the bottle flying through the air. Instead, she licked her lips and tried to figure out what question she wanted to ask first.
"My assistant? Everyone at SI? They weren't harmed?"
Merlyn smiled at her. A smile that she thought was supposed to be kind, proud. But all she saw when she looked at him was arrogance, confidence, madness.
"Your assistant was given a weaker dose of the drug you received, since he doesn't have your strength, your remarkable constitution," he said, his hands clasped behind him. "So he is awake, probably, telling the police the little he knows. Not nearly enough for them to find you."
She very nearly scoffed at what she supposed he thought was a compliment to her, but the last thing she wanted to do was show Malcolm Merlyn her insecurities. So she lifted her chin and focused on Merlyn. "What do you want with me?"
"And here I thought you were widely considered a genius," Merlyn tutted.
"I wouldn't want to assume anything when it comes to you. I might be a genius, but I can't predict how a man like you thinks," Felicity said, her words coming hard and fast.
"A man like me?" Merlyn asked, lifting an eyebrow. "And what kind of man do you think I am? You don't even know what I'm planning."
There was a time and place to play coy and cagey. This wasn't it. Not anymore. And maybe she was just too angry to engage in games of cat-and-mouse. Not when she was, unfortunately, the mouse. "Whatever it is, you're not going to use my processor for it," Felicity said, trying to keep herself under control.
"Ah, but wait until you hear my plans, Miss Stark-or may I call you Felicity? Such a lovely name. Do you know what your name means?"
Did he have a baby names book hiding underneath his robes-type thing? Felicity felt her anger snap and flare inside her like a campfire. She wanted to spit in Malcolm Merlyn's face, break free of her bindings, and get the hell out of here. But she couldn't do any of those things.
Well, she could spit in Merlyn's face, but it seemed like a waste of her precious spit.
It was one thing for her father to piss off his adversaries; he was wrapped in a metal suit when he did his 'annoy them until they make a mistake' routine. She didn't have that-she needed her anger to stay focused, but she couldn't let it overwhelm her.
She always beat Bruce at trivia and Steve at chess. She could outthink Malcolm Merlyn.
"I do know," Felicity said. "A lot of guys at MIT thought telling me my name meant 'happiness' was a great pick-up line."
Merlyn chuckled-actually chuckled-and shook his head. "It sounds like a line my son would have used."
"Let's not get off-topic," Felicity said, feeling her heart squeeze at the mention of Tommy. She had discovered that he was a good guy: finding out his father was involved in something evil would hurt him a lot.
"Of course-you're curious about what I'm going to do," Merlyn said, his arrogance dripping off his words. "It's an impressive plan. One I think you'll admire once you hear more about it. Now that you've lived in Starling City for several months, you must have realized that the Glades is the source of all the city's problems."
Felicity pressed her lips together, holding back her immediate disagreement. Because really, the true problem for Starling City was the inequality that drove people to crime, the gulf between how the rich and the poor were treated, and the lack of opportunities for those that needed encouragement and support the most. But she doubted that was what Merlyn thought, considering his history of anti-Glades remarks.
"My wife was murdered by some punk, after giving millions of dollars and hundreds of hours trying to help the people of the Glades," Malcolm said, walking back and forth in front of her. "She was shot and left to die in a dirty alley, near the Pratt Street subway stop, her blood running all over the sidewalk."
He turned and leaned in towards Felicity, his face inches from hers. "And not one person stopped at the sound of a gunshot. Not one person stopped to help her. Not one person cared that a woman died as they walked past that alley."
It was sad. A horrible thing to happen to anyone. But if Merlyn was using the death of his wife to justify whatever he was going to do, whatever he needed her processor for, then he definitely was a sociopath.
Before she was able to express that thought in words-which was probably a good thing, since she didn't think that would have worked out for her-Merlyn straightened up and went back to pacing. "I realized that there was only one way to save the Glades. Only one way to make my wife's death be more than a senseless act of violence. It's taken me nearly twenty years, but as soon as I have your processor, I will be able to save the Glades."
"Save it how?" Felicity asked, wanting specifics and details. Not the vague pronouncements of a madman.
Merlyn let her question hang in the air. As he waited to answer her, Felicity felt a tendril of fear go down her spine. Maybe she didn't want to know . . .
But then he turned to face her, a maniacal smile on his face. "That's where your processor fits in. Unidac Industries was a fine company, but they just didn't have the resources that Stark Industries does. Or a genius like you on staff, either."
Unidac Industries? Felicity's forehead wrinkled as she tried to remember if she had ever heard of that company.
"They did have one good idea, though," Merlyn continued, acting as if he didn't even register Felicity's confusion. "A seismic device. One that could be placed upon unstable ground, on fault lines, and create an earthquake. It was designed as a way to relieve pressure-a small quake to prevent a big one, to minimize property damage and loss of life. But with your processor . . ."
Felicity felt her mouth drop open. With her ultra-efficient processor, this-this earthquake machine would be able to create a cataclysmic event. "You're going to wipe out the Glades," she whispered, staring at Merlyn.
"Ingenious, isn't it?" Merlyn said with a proud smile. "My little Undertaking has been years in the making, but until you came along, I will admit, I despaired if I was on the right path. If I would have to start over. We couldn't get the results we wanted with only one machine, but there wasn't time to craft another one after Unidac went belly-up."
He sighed heavily. "Yes, there were dark days. Especially when, a year ago, I learned that Oliver Queen survived the bomb I placed on his family's yacht. But while he knows something of my plans, thanks to his little Robin Hood act, he doesn't know that it's me running things." Merlyn paused, his head tilted to one side. "I wonder how he will feel. Losing both the woman and the city he loves."
Swallowing, Felicity tried to make herself as tall as she could in her chair, even if it made the pins and needles in her bottom spark painfully to life. "That's not going to happen. Because Oliver will stop you. And he won't be alone."
"You've read too many fairy tales, Felicity." Up until now, there had been warmth in Merlyn's voice. But it was all gone now. He was as cold and hard as a marble pillar. "The forces of good usually lose. And love isn't enough to overcome any obstacle."
"Maybe you're right," Felicity said, hearing her voice crack and wishing it hadn't. She didn't want to give Merlyn any sign of how scared she was. "Maybe I have read too many fairy tales. But I believe in Oliver. And I know that without my processor, there's no way your Undertaking is going to happen."
"You talk as if I'm not going to get your processor, but I will," Merlyn said coldly. "Because I have Felicity Stark. I think that Tony and Pepper Stark would hand over that prototype in a heartbeat, knowing that the life of their only daughter hangs in the balance."
Merlyn began walking away, in the direction he had entered from. His steps paused when he was only halfway there, Felicity thought. Because like any villain, he had an exit line to deliver.
"Or maybe the president and CEO of Stark Industries will be more worried about losing such an important piece of technology, or they don't want to negotiate with someone they brand a terrorist, even if it means potentially losing a valuable employee-a vice-president. I suppose we'll see, won't we?"
Somehow, she managed to hold back her gasp of worry and heartbreak and fear until Merlyn had left her alone. Because she didn't know what was going to happen. But she was scared.
XXX
Left alone, Felicity's mind spiraled into a sequence of dark, unhappy thoughts. What were her parents thinking right now? Did they even know she had been kidnapped? What about Oliver? He sometimes dropped by her office and brought her lunch, because he thought she had awful eating habits and was trying to help her eat healthier. She agreed, although Felicity thought there were ways of eating healthy that didn't involve kale. What if he walked in and found out she was gone? How would he react?
The warehouse grew darker and darker, colder and colder. Felicity shivered a little in her chair, feeling grateful that she was wearing pants. If-no, when-when she saw Oliver, she would have to thank him for having her wear pants today.
A hum filled the warehouse, just before several overhead lights came on, making Felicity squint. Then came the clang that told her the door was being opened and Felicity took a deep breath.
"So, Miss Stark, an hour to think . . ." Merlyn said as he came into view.
"If you think I've changed my mind, you're crazy. Well, crazier. Because I haven't," Felicity said, glaring at him. "There is no way I will give you my processor. And neither will my parents. Not because they don't love me, but because they have no reason to trust you."
"Hmmm," Merlyn said, his eyes narrowed. "Perhaps I just need to explain this better. If you don't give me your processor, if you refuse to tell me where it is, then I will find other ways. Alternative forms of persuasion, since warning you isn't working."
Great, now he was ruining Star Wars for her, because Merlyn was totally parroting what Governor Tarkin said to Princess Leia. And her father's nickname for her to the contrary, she was not exactly 'heroine for a generation' material.
But she had to stand her ground, so it looked like it was time to bring out her inner Leia.
"It doesn't matter what you do. I have nothing to say to you," Felicity said slowly, giving her words weight. "I have nothing to give you."
"I thought it might come to this," Merlyn said, sounding annoyed. He lifted a hand and made a 'come here' gesture. Felicity turned her head, trying to see what was going on, but there was no way for her to be able to see the door that was behind the chair she was tied to.
Merlyn stood before her, his face blank. Felicity tried to match his expression, tried not to look like her mind was racing, imagining what might be about to happen. Imagining the torture implements he was probably having brought in right now.
And then her blood ran cold as she realized what Merlyn had done.
"Hey, anonymous goon number one, stop trying to feel up my wife."
Throwing her whole body against the chair, Felicity managed to turn it enough so she could see the door. So she could watch as her parents were marched into the warehouse, the accurately-named goon holding her mother in a rather-too-familiar way while two other henchmen gripped her father's arms.
"Mom? Dad?" she croaked, staring at them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Stark, so glad you could join us," Merlyn said, moving to the side as her parents were brought before her. Their hands were zip-tied in front of them; her mother looked calm unless you saw the worried, nervous expression in her eyes. Her father, on the other hand, looked pissed.
Swallowing, Felicity tried to stay calm-but she couldn't. What were they thinking? "What are you doing here?" she asked, looking back and forth between them. "This-this is crazy!"
"Crazy? I don't think we're the ones you should be calling crazy," Tony said, jerking his head towards Merlyn.
"I already called him crazy," Felicity blurted out.
"Oh, good, glad we're all in agreement," Tony said, rolling his eyes.
Frowning, Felicity shook her head, then closed her eyes at another wave of pain. Her hunger and thirst were making her head ache even more.
"Felicity?" Pepper said, stepping forward and then being jerked back by the man who was still holding her. "Are you hurt?"
"You said she was uninjured!" Tony yelled at Merlyn. "This doesn't look 'uninjured' to me!"
The raised voices were making her head pound, but Felicity did her best to ignore the pain. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she said, managing to get her parents' attention.
Her father gave her a long look, then nodded before glaring at Merlyn.
"Satisfied?" Merlyn asked with a raised eyebrow. When Tony didn't say or do anything, Merlyn took that as consent and moved to stand beside Felicity.
"Now, Miss Stark, since you're not interested in working with me . . . I'm afraid I'll have to see what will compel you to change your mind." He waved a hand at her parents.
Felicity blinked. He wasn't going to torture her?
"What . . . what do you mean?" she asked slowly, feeling the fear increase inside her.
"Between you and your parents, one of you must have the processor. So we're going to see who has it," Merlyn said, a thin edge of glee infusing his voice. "After all, your parents said they were willing to do anything to keep you safe. Very sweet. Yet your father is Iron Man."
Licking her lips, Felicity glanced at her parents. Pepper's face was composed, her lips pressed together. Tony's eyes were burning in his face, full of anger and determination like always.
It was a question she wasn't sure she wanted to ask, but . . . "What are you going to do?"
Merlyn showed his teeth in a grimace of a smile. "Well, you're a very close-knit family. You'd do anything to spare your parents pain, wouldn't you?"
Oh, God. Felicity felt her heart drop. Was he saying he would make her watch while her parents were tortured, until she gave up the location of her processor? Her breaths were coming faster now and she was on the verge of a freak out.
"Easy, Felicity," Pepper said, giving her a tight smile. "It's going to be okay."
"How? How is it going to be okay, Mom?!" Felicity asked, hearing the panic in her voice. "Because I'm having trouble seeing it!"
Her parents didn't know that she didn't have the processor anymore. That she had given it to Oliver. They had walked into this situation-she still didn't know why or how-and now she was going to have to watch while her mother, or her father, or both, were hurt in order to make her talk. But she couldn't talk, she couldn't tell Malcolm where the prototype was. But she couldn't bear to see her parents suffer because of her . . .
"It's going to be okay because we say it will be," Pepper said, her voice firm but with a tremor in her lips.
"That's not very reassuring, Mom," Felicity said, unable to help the retort.
Pepper sighed and looked at Tony. "She is so your daughter in these moments," she muttered.
"You say that like it's a bad thing, Pepp," her father said cheerfully before turning to Felicity. "It's going to be okay because there's no need to break out the torture. Check the right front pocket of my pants."
Felicity stared at her father. What?
Merlyn nodded to one of the men holding her father, who patted down Tony and then slid his hand into the pocket of the dark trousers her father wore.
"Easy there, buddy. Watch the family jewels," Tony said, making Felicity grimace. The last thing they needed was her father being cute.
The associate drew out a small plastic container, a bit larger than a postage stamp, and held it up for Merlyn's inspection.
It was impossible to hold back her gasp. How did her father get the prototype? Did they talk to Oliver before they came here? Or . . .
She wanted to discount the idea as soon as it appeared in her mind. Because her parents trusted her. Believed in her. Where had her father gotten another processor? There was only one prototype. Had they gone behind her back and made another one? All her schematics were on her personal server-her father wouldn't hack it to make his own copy of her processor, would he?
"Tell me you didn't," Felicity said, staring at her father. "Tell me you didn't do what I think you did."
"Are you asking if I went behind your back and made a version of your processor for my own use?" Tony asked, his voice full of bravado. "Do you really think I'd do that to you? My only daughter?'
"Yes! Because how else would you have my processor?" Felicity yelped, tugging at her bonds. "Unless you made one!"
Tony let his head fall back with a groan. "Princess, only having one prototype was short-sighted. After your first kidnapping-and we've got you to thank for that, right, Merlyn? Yeah, real good job there, not being able to pull off kidnapping a hundred and ten pound blonde who wears the most impractical shoes around-I planned for this by pulling your designs from your server and whipping that up." He nodded his head to the processor that was now in Merlyn's hand.
"I can't believe you did this!" Felicity said, feeling everything from the day come out as she yelled at her father. "Mom, how could you let him do this?"
"I told you she would be upset," Pepper said, looking at Tony. "I told you we should tell her."
"And I was going to! But then she brought the himbo home with her-"
Felicity gasped. "Are you-are you calling Oliver-Oliver Queen-a himbo?!"
"Like the shoe doesn't fit!" Tony argued. "The guy runs a nightclub and dropped out of four colleges! That's the guy you love, Felicity? You are nearly as smart as me and you fell for the first pretty face that smiled at you!"
"You don't know anything about him," Felicity said, glaring at her father. "He's so much more."
Underneath her anger, Felicity felt extreme confusion. She wasn't even sure why she was fighting with Tony right now, and she sensed that Tony was trying to give the impression that her parents didn't know about Oliver's secret identity. Maybe it was part of some plan? She wasn't sure.
"You just don't like him because he's too much like you," Pepper said, her words immediately drawing her husband's attention.
"You're comparing me-me, Tony Stark, with the IQ and the seventy-eight separate patents and the building named after me at MIT, which, by the way, they don't do that just because you give a ton of money to the school-you're comparing me to that-that male beauty queen our daughter is in lust with?"
"I love him!"
"Enough!"
In a strange kind of unison, Felicity's earnest declaration and Malcolm's annoyed bark rang out at the same time.
"Enough," Merlyn repeated, stepping forward. "This nonsense has delayed my plans too long already. I will take this," he said, holding the processor up, "and have it tested before installing it in the device. And then I will deal with all of you Starks-something I am looking forward to even more now."
With that, Merlyn stalked away, his boots clomping loudly against the cement floors. The henchmen let go of her parents and followed him, leaving them alone.
Felicity didn't hear the door clang and tried to see what was going on. So did her father, who looked up towards the ceiling and muttered something, too quietly for Felicity to hear.
"One of the men is standing guard," Pepper said, barely moving her lips.
Nodding, Felicity took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. "I can't believe you made your own version of my processor," she whispered.
Her father snorted softly. "No, I didn't."
"What?!"
"Shhhh," Pepper said, her eyes cutting towards the guard.
"It's a fake," Tony said. "C'mon, I'd never steal your work like that. Not without telling you. Although I was going to talk to you about it when you came to LA, but then you brought Oliver along and you were so wrapped up in him-oh, and princess? Don't think we didn't know he was sneaking into your room every night."
Pepper let out a soft huff of annoyance. "Is that really what we should be talking about right now?"
She agreed with her mother, because finding out her parents had brought a fake processor made her very worried about how Merlyn would react when he learned the truth.
"Quiet!" the guard called out, his voice tinged with a Middle Eastern accent.
Pressing her lips together, Felicity looked at her parents. Pepper smiled, clearly attempting to reassure Felicity, while Tony gave her a wink.
But Felicity didn't feel reassured.
XXX
Even though the door hadn't been closed, there was a loud clang and the sound of pounding footsteps some time later. Her parents, who had sunk down to sit on the concrete floor, scrambled awkwardly to their feet-well, her father scrambled; her mother rose like a soap bubble.
"Your attempt at tricking me has failed, Mr. Stark," Merlyn jeered as he approached her father. "Do you think I would believe you would come in here, with your daughter's life on the line, and succeed with such a flimsy plan? Or maybe the processor is more important to you."
"Given how you treat your son, not surprised you think I'd be willing to sacrifice Felicity. But that's not happening," Tony said, standing casually, like his hands weren't tied together and he was without his armor and he was facing off against a madman with his defenseless wife and daughter there.
Felicity didn't know how her father did it, but she wished she had that quality, too.
Merlyn glared and got in her father's face, using the extra three inches he had on Tony in an attempt to intimidate. "Will you be so glib, Mr. Stark, when your daughter is begging you to let me put her out of her misery?"
"No!" Pepper shouted, lifting her hands to pound on Merlyn's chest, but Merlyn stepped back as two henchmen grabbed her mother.
Looking around wildly, Felicity realized that there were at least twelve men in the warehouse now, all dressed similarly to Merlyn, all standing at attention. Except for the four men who were now holding on to her parents, as Malcolm Merlyn turned to face her.
"If only your father hadn't tried to trick me," Merlyn said, advancing towards her with slow, measured steps. "I wouldn't have to do this."
"You bastard, if you touch a hair on her head-" Her father's voice was choked with anger, but Felicity could hear the fear in his voice.
"Please don't do this," Pepper begged softly.
Her parents' words had no effect on Merlyn. He kept advancing towards Felicity, who gripped the arms of the chair, then winced at the pain of the blood moving in her hands.
"I regret this, Felicity," Merlyn said, drawing a large dagger from a sheath that hung on the right side of his waist. "I had planned for your death to be simple. Caught in the destruction of the seismic machine, a tragic case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Another death out of so many from the earthquake that will level the Glades."
"We'll give you whatever you want, Merlyn-"
"No, Dad," Felicity said, interrupting Tony. "No," she repeated, looking up at Merlyn. "We're not giving you anything. So do your worst. My parents don't know where the processor is and there's no way you're going to get it. Not in time for this flawed Undertaking of yours, not ever."
Merlyn slowly drew the blade along her jaw, applying pressure-not enough to break the skin, but definitely enough to scare the living daylights out of her. "You are very brave, Felicity, but I don't think you're brave enough. Soon, you will be talking. If only to save your parents the pain."
With deliberate movements, Merlyn lifted the dagger, pausing with it raised in the air over her. Felicity didn't know what to do. Should she close her eyes? Set her jaw? Try to stay relaxed?
But she didn't have time to decide and pick an option. Because with a soft whoosh, an arrow suddenly appeared in Merlyn's shoulder, making him bend over and drop the knife to the floor with a clatter.
Felicity looked around, the hope rising in her-and the fear. Because could Oliver take out all these men and Merlyn on his own?
Then he dropped from the rafters in front of her, in his green leather, with his hood up, and gave her a quick smile. And Felicity couldn't help smiling back, because . . . of course he was going to win.
He was the Green Arrow.
End, Chapter 9