Harbinger Rising

"They're en-route," Felicity said to Lyla, who was watching the computers beside her. The surveillance images showed remaining ARGUS squads regrouping and securing their way out. They were destroying key documents, erasing computers, hitting the self-destruct on all sorts of R&D gadgets they kept in lockdown. All that was left was for Felicity to hit start on the evacuation protocols.

But Waller was still fighting them.

"Agent Michaels — just what do you think you're doing?"

Felicity looked tensely from Lyla to Waller. Lyla had technically bypassed Waller by contacting every agent still in possession of their secure line and authorizing the evac, but Waller was a reasonable woman — if slightly sociopathic. Surely she'd understand that a bunker wasn't worth the lives of every ARGUS agent in it.

Apparently not.

"Saving the lives that can be saved," Lyla answered. "We can't lose all our agents here today. You know this, Amanda. Oliver's right — if the League really is using some kind of hallucinogenic, we can't fight it. Not today. They were drawing us out on purpose, because they know we're not prepared for it."

Waller's eyes were flinty. "I'm not disputing the fact that we're in an undesirable position — but to pull back now would be a catastrophe, with the numbers we've lost." She drummed her fingers on the table, thinking. "Ra's al Ghul wants my head, correct? An admirably honest position, but highly impractical — because he has to do it himself. Instead of retreat, I say we get our agents on the defensive and make him think victory is within his grasp."

"Which is your head coming off," Felicity reminded her. "Just so we're clear."

My head," said Waller, coolly, "is my concern, Miss Smoak. And so are ARGUS's objectives, as you all seem to forget. If Ra's al Ghul thinks that victory is near, he'll come out of hiding and that is when we strike."

"You can't fight him," Felicity said, shaking her head. "You can't predict him — the only person I know who has a chance against Ra's is Oliver, and he knows that we can't win today."

She'd said the wrong thing.

"I am still head of ARGUS. My executive vote is a no. I'm not proposing that our agents engage in active combat. I merely propose that they strategically retreat within the premises. We do not abandon this facility until we find Ra's al Ghul."

Felicity could sense Lyla's agitation, as the minutes piled up and so did the bodies. Her arm moved slowly in Felicity's peripheral vision, but she never took her eyes off Waller.

"I'm sorry, Amanda — but I have to do this."

A flicker of irritation crossed Waller's features and suddenly she had a gun in her hands and was pointing it at Lyla. "Treason, once again, Agent Michaels. This is rapidly becoming a habit of yours."

Frack.

"What is wrong with you?" Felicity shouted. "We're all on the same side!"

Waller ignored her, the gun trained on Lyla's head. Twelve feet of distance between them, a widening chasm in their shared beliefs — the difference between the willingness to do what was necessary, and sacrificing innocent lives for a cause of pride — not of honor.

"No," said Lyla, her eyes steadily on Amanda's. "I think we both know what side we stand on. Felicity, start the evac. Now."

Waller released the safety with a click. "I wouldn't."

Suddenly, Lyla wasn't there anymore. The gun discharged with a deafening crack, and Felicity threw up her arms to shield herself from the glass that exploded from a shattered screen. Lyla lunged from under the table and crashed heavily into Waller. They hit the floor with a thud and the gun went off again, the bullet ricocheting off the steel walls — sparking as it hit one of the computers.

"Felicity!" Lyla slammed Waller's wrist into the floor, sending the handgun skittering out of sight. "Now!"

Felicity skidded her way through the broken glass and started to type. She winced when the alarms shrieked outside the doors, but didn't stop. Routing power to the underground railroad — done. Making sure the trains were running — done. Evacuation points all over the facility would be opening…now.

The elevator doors whooshed open behind them, and Felicity finally looked up. Waller, breathing hard from the struggle, had just retrieved her handgun, but it was already too late.

"Old habits," said Lyla, sounding out of breath. She had a gun as well, pointed at Waller. Her lip was bleeding as she backed towards the computers.

"Extreme measures, Agent Michaels," said Waller, her gun pointed at Lyla's forehead. Felicity didn't want to doubt her aim. "I believe you understand that about me."

"We both know you aren't going to shoot me, Amanda," she said, steadily. "The general in you still thinks I'm an irreplaceable asset."

"The general in me does not tolerate insubordination and treason."

"Brave and the bold," Lyla said, with a ghost of a smile. "Whatever the personal cost."

Then she slammed her fist into the controls and began to speak.

"All agents, this is Harbinger. Phantom protocol has been issued. All remaining agents are to proceed with evacuation. Repeat — Phantom protocol has been issued. T-minus ten minutes to final evacuation."

Waller's gun didn't move. "Sorry, Amanda," said Lyla. "But it's too late now."

Felicity thought the tension was going to go off like a grenade and obliterate them all. But then Waller did something that Felicity had stopped expecting her to do – the rational thing. She put the pin back in.

She lowered her gun with a disgusted curl to her lip. "Clearly," she said. "But I will not forget this, Agent Michaels. And make no mistake, what happens now – it's all on you."


"For the record," said Felicity, sending another elevator down to the railroad. "I hated her before she sicced a drone on Nanda Parbat."

Lyla smiled wanly, not taking her eyes off the screens. "Well, I think I'm going to be out of a job soon, so I sympathize."

"I heard of a job opening somewhere. More of a night job, really – very little sunlight if you're looking to lose that healthy glow, pretty high-risk high-reward crime-fighting, no health and dental. But you get to work alongside your friends and your husband."

Lyla laughed softly. "If I get to see my daughter again after all this, I think I'll go on sabbatical."

Felicity started to laugh to, but she almost lost her hearing in the sudden pop of static and gunfire. "Felicity!"

"Oliver?" Felicity's skin prickled at the anxiety in his voice. "What's wrong?"


"What happened?" she asked, helping as Diggle and Oliver lowered Roy gently to the ground. Roy was out cold, unresponsive even when Felicity accidentally-on-purpose let his head smack the floor.

"He knocked me out of the way," said Diggle, out of breath. "Got hit by the gas, but he's breathing."

Felicity still touched his pulse to make sure. His head jerked in some kind of response to the dream, but he didn't wake. It was like the Mirakuru all over again, except they didn't have a cure.

Part of her wanted to make an ill-timed joke about Sleeping Beauty and Roy needing a kiss from Thea, but she really didn't want to make Oliver suicidal. He was probably in his classic Oliver Queen guilt spiral, double the usual because Roy was his mentee.

"When we get out, I'll take a blood sample – sic Star Labs on it." Felicity glanced at Oliver cautiously. "You okay?"

He looked up at her and for a second, he didn't say anything. Of course he wouldn't be okay, but she had to ask anyway, to remind him that he could be. But that, as usual, was a topic for later discussion.

"I didn't see Nyssa," he said. "I think she and Ra's are planning something."

Diggle scrubbed a hand tiredly across his sweaty face. "We just don't know what."

"Hence –" Felicity said, "the strategic retreat before they get to pull another fast one. By the way, Dig, your wife pointed a gun at Waller and she's probably going to get fired. But in her defence – Waller started it."

Diggle looked confused (not that she could blame him), but when Lyla came towards them he swept her up in a tight hug, and only broke apart because of the alarm Felicity had set on the computer – the one that told her evacuation was past ninety percent finished.

"There's one last group of agents coming through," said Felicity, peering at the surveillance. "They're headed our way, and because it's apparently a given, the League's hot on their trail." She looked up at everybody. "Last evac. Then we're all getting out of here."

Lyla already had a gun in her hands. "We'll cover them."

Felicity nodded and got back on her computer. "And I'll try to slow the League down."

Diggle squeezed Felicity's shoulder and went through the doors first with Lyla, a couple of agents at their heels. Oliver slung his bow across his back, and reached uncharacteristically for a handgun instead – one of the many lying on the table surface.

"Ran out of arrows," he said, checking the ammunition with surprising familiarity.

Felicity felt like her mother had just walked in wearing clothes that – for once – didn't scream strobe lights and tequila. Oliver – gun – bullets – what?

"You never said you knew how to use a gun," she said, unable to keep the shock out of her voice.

Oliver met her eyes in his usual practical way. "Never said I didn't know how."

"You know, as a concerned girlfriend, the news that you've caught up with the 21st Century and – you know – bullets, should be music to my ears. But I think I still like the bow. The gun's a little too Bratva-Captain for my taste."

Oliver cracked a smile, and she checked another item off her déjà vu list – making Oliver smile before he went out to fight. They stared at each other then, separated by a computer and broken glass, two people in the middle of a war who still didn't know everything about each other. Too much – too soon. As if Oliver could sense that her humor was about to give way to darker thoughts, he leaned across the computers and pulled her towards him. He kissed her quickly, his breath fanning hot across her cheek. Quickly, but always soft, like they were alone and not surrounded by a room of injured ARGUS agents and a full-scale evacuation going on outside.

"Later," he said, against her mouth. Always later.

Felicity let him slip through her open hands as he jumped down from the dais and started towards the doors.

"Later," she said, shaking her head long after he had disappeared. "Tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow."