Chapter 10 – THREATS, LOSSES, AND GAINS

A/N: Before anything else, I would like to thank you for reading this story and following it up to this point. You are very much appreciated!

This chapter is for mjf2468 whose reviews encourage me to keep going, and for Flashman whose most recent review really made my day.

To the Guest who left a comment and told about his/her grandfather's unfortunate experience during WWII: I feel for you. Our grandfathers were heroes. Their sacrifices - like the others who served during those most trying times - have made our families and our countries proud. Kudos to American and Filipino war heroes and war vets!

So, enjoy this update everyone! A review would be nice, but that's entirely up to you.

April 12, 1942

Bataan province

Oliver was on his knees. Naked, except for his last piece of underwear. Under the sweltering heat of the noonday sun.

Tommy and John were also among the other American POWs like him that have been forced to strip and be subjected to what the Japs were calling "sun treatment." They had already been baking under direct heat for more than an hour. Some of the "captives" – as the Japanese guards preferred to call them, instead of calling them prisoners-of-war – had already collapsed on the muddy ground of the banks of the stream due to severe dehydration. Water was just within reach, but none of the men who still retained consciousness and presence of mind dared to come near it and quench their thirst. The handful of them that had made the mistake an hour ago had already been shot in the head or in the back, the way cowards executed victims that couldn't fight back.

"Hang in there," John whispered to his friends.

Immediately the blunt end of a rifle landed forcefully on his cheek, as one of the Japanese guards shouted something at him that sounded so dirty and hateful. John fell face down on the ground, his cheek bloody with a nasty cut inflicted by a cruel enemy.

To Oliver, however, the urge to fight back and defend his fellow marine was the enemy he wrestled with at the time. John saw it in his eyes, and when their gazes locked, the look on John's face ardently begged him not to give in to the compulsion to strike the real enemy.

Oliver closed his eyes shut and willed to be transported instead to a different time and place – to the stream at Dearden ranch. Their stream. Where he and Felicity had declared their undying love for each other. When she had promised to wait for him and marry him when the right time comes for them.

He could smell the fragrance of her soft blonde tresses that slightly overpowered the scent of the fresh, green grass where they had lain, his arms wrapped around her slender frame as her body leaned back against him. He could hear the sound of chirping birds nesting in the tree branch above them. He listened to the flowing water, swishing and swooshing against the rocks that stood in its path. And at that moment, no matter how briefly, Oliver escaped the cruel reality of physical torture as he retreated into that fond memory in his mind.

Sadly, his mental escape was short-lived. Loud sounds of gunshots went off, and when he opened his eyes, more lifeless bodies littered the muddy ground. With clenched and grinding teeth, Oliver restrained himself from going ballistic and taking on the armed Japanese guards responsible for brutally and unjustly murdering fellow POWs that had caved to heatstroke and extreme dehydration.

This wasn't an isolated case of atrocity. The first one had occurred early on in the Death March when a certain Col. Tsuji had ignored the clear directive of Gen. Homma that POWs be transferred peacefully and clandestinely ordered Japanese officers to summarily execute about 350-400 Filipino officers and non-commissioned officers near the Pantingan River even after they had surrendered. At the beginning of the march of Oliver's group of 100 POWs, an American and some Filipinos were also murdered in cold blood during the shakedown. In the last two days of the March, POWs had been perishing in the ruthless hands of the Japanese, falling like match sticks at the flick of a finger.

To most of the wounded and the weakened in the March, the physical and mental abuse had been too much to withstand. The Japanese guards didn't even have to pull the trigger; some had fallen on their own, unable to stand up and continue the arduous trek, left there to die by the roadside. Yet others who had become a burden to their fellow POWs and an annoyance to the guards, had been shot or bayoneted to death, and then left for dead. Merely begging for a drink of water had been a free ticket to hell. Clean-up crews had come to pick up dead bodies and pile them on military trucks or jeeps, getting rid of the evidences of inhumane acts that made a mockery of the provisions of the Geneva Convention.

Oliver had committed to photographic memory every atrocious act he had witnessed. He had also memorized as many names of Japanese guards and officers as he could, and had sworn on the legacy of his fallen compatriots that he would one day testify in a war crimes court if he survives the war. And although he mourned the terrible loss of POW lives by the stream that day, he was also consumed with rage.

One of the Japanese guards saw the anger and spite on his face and approached him, ready to strike with a rifle. Just as the Jap lunged at him, Oliver swiftly evaded the attack and caught the end of the man's rifle with his bare hand, pulling the man down to the ground with it. Oliver tackled the guard to the ground and punched him repeatedly in the face as soon as he was disarmed. Two other Japanese guards rushed to aid and abet their fellow guard, and eventually, Oliver was subdued.

The Japanese whom Oliver had initially overpowered, struck, and humiliated bounced back with a vengeance. The retaliation was harsh. Oliver's bare body was beaten until his back was black and blue, and then he was brought to the stream. Two guards restrained him and repeatedly dunked his head into the water for longer and longer spans of time. At the last attempt to drown him, Oliver thought that he would soon come face to face with his Creator. The faces of everyone dear to him, including Felicity, flashed in his mind like moving pictures, and he struggled about whether or not he was ready and willing for his life to end this way, this early. When he was just about ready to succumb to his fate, the guards pulled him up and then shoved him down to the ground.

Oliver grasped for every breath as he felt his lungs burn inside his chest. He was too preoccupied with breathing again that he did not hear the Japs laughing, scorning him, and making fun of him. He rolled on his back and threw his arms open, as his chest heaved heavily. He didn't really know if he felt hot because of the scorching heat of the sun, or if he felt cold because of nearly drowning in the stream. His body quaked and he shivered, perhaps because of the trauma of torture. Yet, despite the suffering he had endured, Oliver had only one thought: he was grateful to still be alive.

June 1943

Mt. Arayat, Pampanga province (Central Luzon)

"Oliver, Oliver! Hey, it's okay. Wake up!"

He can barely hear it, but the familiar voice of his beloved is clear, and it wakes him from this terrible nightmare. Still shivering and now covered in sweat, his eyes flit open, and a tender warmth engulfs him as he looks into a pair of beautiful blue eyes looking down at him.

"Felicity?" Oliver whispers, groping for one of her hands.

"I'm here. It's okay," Felicity comforts him. She gently strokes his sandy blonde hair, which has grown longer in the past several months that he and his small group of archers have been avoiding capture while still going on dangerous (and sometimes very risky) missions to assist guerilla groups in Central Luzon. "You were just having a bad dream," she assures him. "It wasn't real."

"It was," he tells her, wiping the tears that leaked from his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks softly, tenderly caressing his bearded cheek with her fingers. She makes a mental note to trim his facial hair when he recovers completely from illness.

Oliver nods affirmatively – which surprises Felicity. As far back as she can remember, Oliver has always tried to avoid talking about the darkness that he has seen and experienced in combat in the past few years.

She props his head on top of a folded blanket, and then he narrates in detail the horrors and brutalities that he witnessed in the Death March. At the onset, he struggles to choose his words so as not to scare or repulse her. But when he sees the inner strength and fortitude reflected outwardly on her features, he carries on with his stories, no holds barred. When he gets to the part where Tommy is cold-bloodedly killed by the Japanese in front of him and John, he breaks down. He confesses how utterly helpless he had felt while watching his best friend suffer and die in the hands of cruel men. He cries and sobs bitterly, in complete abandon in the arms of the woman he loves, the woman who loves him back with the same fervor as his. Felicity herself weeps for their fallen friend; her empathy brings him much-needed comfort.

When they both recover from their outbursts of grief and sadness, Felicity lays him back down on the sack-covered ground in the make-shift shack where he and his men are currently taking refuge in. She dips a clean towel into a dented basin filled with water from a nearby creek and wrings it, ready to wipe away the sweat from his face and his body.

"It's been more than two days. No fever. No convulsions. It's a good sign," she tells him as she continues with her ministrations. "Do you still feel nauseous? Any headache?" she asks.

Oliver shakes his head slightly. "No. None."

"Good. The quinine is working. I think you're going to make a full recovery. Thank God." Felicity smiles at him, genuinely thankful that the malaria had not claimed her Oliver like it had claimed one of his trusted men a few days ago. (Private Rory Regan was a good man, she thought regretfully. She had met him only once before, and in that brief encounter, she had bonded with him because they both had Jewish backgrounds.)

"But I still had the shivers a while ago," Oliver says.

Felicity smirks and attempts to tease him, "Oliver, I think the shivering can be blamed on a rather horrific dream, plus the fact that you were crying like a baby in front of a very pretty girl just a few minutes ago."

Once again, to Felicity's surprise, her usually broody but favorite marine responds positively to her kidding. Oliver grins just wide enough for some of his teeth to show.

"Come here," he says to her, motioning with his forefinger for her to lean forward towards him. He sits up to meet her halfway, simultaneously taking the towel from her hand and dropping it into the basin beside him. He places his hand behind her neck and pulls her in for a chaste kiss. The kiss is sweet and soft and slow, but he lets it linger, brushing his lips against hers as he wraps his other arm around her waist to draw her in, closer to his chest.

When they pull away, he says to her, "Thank you for coming, Felicity. You have not only saved my life for the nth time. You have also saved my men from being wiped out by this dreadful disease."

"You're welcome. You know I'm always here to help, especially if it's you asking. I support this cause just as much as you do, and I'm glad I can actually do something that matters in the midst of this entire… mess," Felicity tells him. "It's been difficult, but it's really fulfilling to be making a difference somehow… especially because I'm doing it with you." She smiles earnestly and gives him a peck on the nose.

Truth be told, he feels thankful in a way that he had gotten sick, in the sense that he had gotten a reasonable opportunity to leave the clinic and see him. In the last eight months since his twilight visit when she had patched him up at the clinic, he had only seen her once, albeit from afar. It has been increasingly difficult and risky for guerilla fighters to come down from the mountains where most of their hideouts and secret meeting places are, ever since the Kempeitai started clamping down on the resistance movement, deploying spies from among the Filipinos themselves. The Green Arrow had only been spotted once in the area near Orani, but he hadn't had the chance to actually go the clinic because the town was swarming with Japanese patrols that day.

On one humid summer afternoon, after a successful surveillance and intel gathering mission the night before with Rene Ramirez and the right-hand man of Major Lapham himself, Oliver had taken a calculated risk just to see Felicity. He had missed her so much! He shed his Green Arrow clothes and disguised himself in long-sleeved clothes and a bandana-covered head underneath a wide-rimmed salakot, as a farmer delivering organic fertilizer to Mang Tasyo's general store. The foul smell of the manure in his cart kept the locals at bay, including a handful of Japanese patrols stationed at the town hall. When he got to the store, he saw her saying goodbye to an old man (whom he presumed to be her friend Mang Tasyo) at the doorway. Oliver was about to approach Felicity when two Filipinas emerged from inside the store carrying bags of supplies. The three women had immediately thanked Mang Tasyo and left, going in the direction of the clinic where they lived. Oliver had no choice but to just follow them and watch her from afar. The two other young women, whom he presumed were Felicity's companions at the clinic, had gone inside already, but for some reason, Felicity lingered at the door, removing the bandana on her head slowly. She then turned around and panned her surroundings, seemingly looking for someone or something. She waited for about a minute before she smiled and turned to go inside. The smile that Oliver had seen on Felicity's face that day made him tremendously happy, much like how he had felt when he opened his presents on Christmas morning as a little boy. He had thought it peculiar, but he was convinced that she must have sensed his presence and flashed that smile for him to see – wherever he was concealing himself that afternoon.

It's the same winsome, refreshing smile that is on her face now, but the happiness fades from her face sooner than he would have liked.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner to save Rory," Felicity says in a rather sad, apologetic tone.

Oliver doesn't give her any room for guilt-tripping. He isn't willing to let that smile fade completely from his beloved's face. "Hey, it's not your fault," he immediately comforts her. "Rory's symptoms had gotten worse by the time we realized what we were up against. The men and I were still debating whether or not we should ask you to come and bring quinine and treat him, since bringing him down to the clinic is dangerous and out of the question. But when I started showing symptoms, Rene insisted that he and Francisco take the risk and fetch you immediately. You couldn't have come sooner, because the guys had to take you through the longer route to avoid checkpoints to reach this place safely. It takes a few days to get here on foot that way." He kisses her forehead and adds, "So, stop blaming yourself."

Felicity nods in acquiescence. She squeezes his hand to let him know that she understood his valid point. She just feels defeated that she had lost a patient. Since the Japanese occupation started more than a year ago, she had lost only two patients to malaria. One had been an infant, while the other an elderly man. Now, it's Rory. Felicity still feels like she had struck out at three. The feeling makes her uneasy. Her mind understands that none of it is her fault, but her heart is lagging behind in coming to terms with the loss.

She decides to change the subject for the time being and asks, "How do you think you and your men contracted the disease?"

"Based on the incubation period you described between the insect bites and when symptoms begin to show, I'd say it would have to be when Lapham asked us to do the reconnaissance mission in a town very near the Candaba Swamp," Oliver explains. "We heard from the locals that the town had had an outbreak there when the war broke out. People say that the swamp is a breeding ground for the mosquitoes that carry the disease-causing parasites."

"So, why did you still go if you knew the risk?" Felicity asks.

"We had to," Oliver replies. "There are reports of a fairly reasonable threat to the resistance."

"What kind of threat?" she asks again.

Oliver is silent for a moment or two. Once again, he doesn't want to frighten her, but he answers her anyway because he knows that she does not like it when he keeps her hanging. He also knows that she's stronger than she looks. Felicity Smoak can handle the truth.

"The sword-wielding kind," he replies, his forehead crinkling as he speaks. He then explains further, "Our informants in Manila have sent word that a foreigner who goes by the codename Deathstroke has allied himself with the Japanese and the MAKAPILI to identify, pursue, and eliminate known guerrilla fighters and leaders in Luzon. Rumor has it, the mysterious guy wears a black-and-orange mask and uses a Japanese katana, his weapon of choice, to terrorize and torture suspected guerrilla spies and to execute captured guerrilla leaders."

"So, it is true…" Felicity thinks out loud, her brain processing previously and presently obtained information.

"You've heard about this, too?" Oliver verifies curiously.

Felicity nods to confirm. "Yes, I believe I have. Barry came for a visit last month."

Oliver winces slightly at the mention of her good friend's name, but he reminds herself that she and Barry are really just good friends and colleagues and nothing more. (She and Oliver had ironed out that issue way back when Dr. Allen's Red Cross team, which Felicity was a part of, was still based in California.) Felicity picks up on his body language and is quick to respond, before his deceitful feelings of jealousy win over reason.

"Barry personally delivered medicines to the clinic from ANRC headquarters in Manila," she tells him whilst rubbing her palm up and down his arm in soothing motions. "He brought both good news and bad. The good news is that he was able to bring more quinine safely through the checkpoints without the Japanese seizing them. They've been hoarding quinine whenever they can, for their prison camps where there are multiple cases of malaria."

"The bad news is…" She then stops, drying the corners of her eyes from the tears that are threatening to fall. After a sniffle, she breaks the unpleasant truth. "The bad news is that his girlfriend Iris West, a journalist with the BBC, had gone missing the month prior. Barry is positive that it had something to do with her investigations about the spies and Japanese collaborators working for the MAKAPILI. He's already appealed to law enforcement for help and had done a little sleuthing himself, but every lead has brought him to a dead end. That's when he mentioned the Japanese samurai ninja guy."

"It's a katana," Oliver corrects her with a smirk.

"I don't think I'll be able to tell the difference," she defends herself, slapping his arm lightly. "Anyways, according to Barry, no one knows who this person is. His name and origin are a mystery. All Barry knows so far is that he isn't Japanese, and that the Kempeitai now considers him their secret weapon against the guerrilla movement."

"And that is why we took on the mission near Candaba Swamp," Oliver brings the conversation back to where they started. "Unfortunately, the little information we gathered only confirmed the existence of this Deathstroke. We didn't find out anything specific about his whereabouts, except that he has left Manila for Central Luzon to eliminate the targets on the guerrilla hit list that the Kempeitai had given him. A list that includes the Green Arrow and his men."

Felicity bites her lower lip as she considers what he just said. "That's not good."

"No, not at all," Oliver answers, shaking his head.

After a few more days under Felicity's watchful care, Oliver is symptom-free, and there is every indication that he is indeed on the road to full recovery. The two other archers, who had contracted malaria and showed symptoms at about the same time he did, are doing better. Soon Oliver is able to move about, and then to resume sparring and target practice with his men. After a long talk, Felicity agrees with him that it is time for her to return to the Red Cross clinic in Orani, with him and Rene as her chaperons. Along the way, they would try to figure out a way to explain her extended absence to Auring and Gloria, and to anyone who asks.

Just as she is getting ready to leave, Francisco Ramon runs a high fever. Within the next 48 hours, he manifests the same symptoms that were observed in Oliver and his men, only, Francisco's symptoms seem worse. His abdomen is slightly enlarged, and instead of mere uncontrolled shivering, the young man convulses more violently and more frequently than the others had. Felicity is worried for their dear Filipino friend. This time, Oliver agrees with her that she needs to stay longer for Francisco's sake.

There is a slight downpour on the eastern side of Mt. Arayat where the temporary hideout of Oliver's band of archers is located. Felicity holds a giant banana leaf over her head to shield her from the rain as she darts from Francisco's make-shift shed to Oliver's shack. "We're running out of quinine," Felicity informs Oliver as she enters. "Kiko is not going to make it through the coming days with what we have left." She is calm and composed, but still Oliver senses the worry that she is trying so hard to mask.

Oliver puts down the improvised arrowhead he is sharpening with a switchblade. He looks up at her and purses his lips tight as he thinks about a reasonable yet immediate course of action. "Do you know where we can get some more?" he asks.

Felicity gives it some thought, and then she answers, "We still had some at the clinic, but I don't know if Auring and Gloria have had to use some for patients since I left. And Orani is quite far from here. I don't think Kiko will last that long until you get back if you go there." She looks at Oliver with deep concern. "Even if Orani is close by, I won't send you or Rene down into town to get it. You'll blow your cover by going to the clinic, and I don't want Auring or Gloria to be involved. If I go back to retrieve the quinine myself and pass it along to you, there's no coming back here for me to help Kiko."

After a while of thought, Oliver asks again, hoping for a different answer, "Is there really nowhere else we can find some?"

"Manila. For sure. There's bound to be quinine in the hospitals there. But getting in and out of a big city swarming with Japanese troops is mission impossible. You know that, right? Barry says you never know who to trust there."

Oliver knows she's right. Not even the Green Arrow and his team of guerrilla archers can pull off a mission like that in a Japanese-infested city without back-up. Small factions of guerrillas don't stand a chance against the Japanese forces stationed in the country's capital. But he isn't about to give up on Kiko Ramon. Oliver is not willing for Aling Elena to lose the only family she has left, but they are running out of options fast.

As he sat quietly on the ground, Oliver is interrupted in his musings by the gentle touch of a familiar hand landing on his knee. He realizes that Felicity is already seated on the ground beside him in quite an awkward position; her legs are folded on one side, causing her skirt to ride up her thighs. For a little while he gets distracted by the delightful sight and he forgets the pressing matter at hand. When he realizes this, he makes a mental note to get her to wear a pair of pants (as soon as his men can find her one that fits). The skirts she's been wearing since she arrived are just not suitable for the mountains, and he really doesn't need distractions like this when he's supposed to be thinking about saving lives.

"Oliver, I think I have an idea," Felicity tells him, her hand still on his knee.

"Let's hear it," Oliver says, diverting his eyes away from the distraction and focusing them on her face.

"Remember what I told you Barry had mentioned? If the Japs are just as desperate to get their hands on quinine because of malaria outbreaks in their prison camps that they're confiscating supplies, then don't you think that's where we'll find some?" she asks, but the tone of her voice tells him that this is really a suggestion. Her widened eyes are proof that the lightbulb just went on in her head.

He immediately picks up where she's going with this, and says, "The prison camps in Central Luzon are in Nueva Ecija, the next province from here. The nearest one is just a few miles northeast, just across the border between Pampanga and Nueva Ecija. It's closer to our position than Orani, which is miles away southwest of our position." He squeezes her hand, a gesture that tells her he approves of her brilliant idea.

"I'll go talk to the guys," Oliver tells her as he stands and places his hands on her shoulder. "Felicity, you are remarkable."

"Thank you for remarking on it," she responds as he walks away.

The rest of the day is spent strategizing and planning. Oliver and his men figure out the best way to scout the perimeter of the internment camp for the best and least conspicuous access point on the first night, to determine where the infirmary is located the following morning, and to penetrate the chosen entry point at midnight on the second night by taking out the sentries there without attracting attention. Lance Corporal Roy Harper – an unsurrendered US Army officer, and the only remaining American in Oliver's team – is to lead the two other scouts and to report back to Oliver at the rendezvous point.

Oliver clarifies that this is not a rescue mission, and that their sole purpose is to secure the needed medicine and nothing else. He specifically instructs his men that – no matter how tempting it may be to attempt to set the POWs free once they successfully breach the camp – they should not veer away from the plan. Under no circumstance are they supposed to provoke or engage the enemy who, most likely, outnumber them ten to one, especially since they do not have the advantage of back-up from another guerrilla group at the moment.

Early the next morning, the Green Arrow and only five of his six men gear up and push northeast of Mt. Arayat into Nueva Ecija province. (Rene had volunteered the day before to be the one to stay and protect Felicity and Francisco from any threat in the absence of the archers.) Oliver hugs Felicity before they leave, promising to bring back the medicine they need as soon as possible.

The Green Arrow successfully secures the needed medicines. On the evening of the third day, he returns unscathed, but with only four of the men he'd brought with him on the mission. Oliver tells Rene that one of their comrades, who was an escaped Filipino POW, had died a hero, sacrificing himself to allow the rest of them to elude capture by putting himself between them and the barrage of bullets from a powerful machine gun situated at the watchtower.

They are saddened by the loss, but they also celebrate a victory. Not only have they obtained the quinine to save Francisco's life; they have also gained another brother-at-arms. They returned to their mountain hideout with one prisoner who had unexpectedly and providentially aided them in their mission by showing them an alternate escape route when they were trapped in the infirmary and surrounded by Japanese guards.

As soon as Felicity hears their voices, she comes out of Francisco's shed, and the first person that greets her – much to her relief – is an unharmed Oliver. She runs into his arms and kisses him senseless, unmindful of everyone else around them. "You came back!" she exclaims after they part.

Oliver smiles down at her and nods. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Did you get it?" she asks enthusiastically.

"Yes, there's enough quinine in Roy's bag," he replies, his smile widening into a grin. "But it's not all that we've brought back…" Oliver turns her around in his arms for her to see. "Look who's here."

"Hello, Felicity," the tall, dark, and handsome man greets her.

Felicity's jaw drops. Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline in awestruck wonder. The man looks haggard and a little thinner than she remembers him, but she immediately recognizes her dear friend. All she can utter in absolute incredulity is…

"John…?"

A/N: I enjoyed writing this chapter, especially when I got to the parts where I was able to put in additional members of Team Arrow, as well as a particular villain that complicates the already complicated situation of the war. Also, the prospect of reuniting the OTA was simply thrilling! I hope you feel the same way, and I hope you like the direction the story is taking. More to come next update! Do let me know what you think of this chapter.

Based on my readings, the army nurses (and most likely the Red Cross staff and volunteers in the field at the time) had to deal with a number of illnesses among patients during the course of the war and the Japanese occupation. Aside from battle wounds and war-related injuries, dysentery and malaria were the most common diseases at the time. Back then, perhaps the most common and most available cure for malaria was quinine. Malaria is a disease that affects humans and animals that are bitten by female Anopheles mosquitoes. The insect bite introduces parasitic protozoans into the bloodstream through which they travel to the liver and attack it. Symptoms of the disease include fever, fatigue, vomiting, headaches, and in severe cases, yellowing of the skin, enlargement of the abdomen, seizures or convulsions, coma, and even death. Malaria is common in tropical and subtropical regions, in countries near the equator - like the Philippines. During WWII, it was a serious problem - especially in the prison camps - perhaps because of the lack of medicines and medical attention given to those who became infected. Chloroquine is used to treat malaria patients, but for those who are resistant to this medicine, quinine can be used.