Oliver reports the findings of his investigation to Quentin just as a shocking incident happens at City Hall.

The call had come a little earlier than expected. It had been 18 hours exactly since he had contacted Mia, and he was sure that she'd take the full 24 hours to find what he needed. The early call had meant that she had either rushed the job, or that she was just that good. From what Oliver knew about her, it was definitely the latter.

He'd kept tabs on her ever since the day he'd rescued her from Davenport's warehouse. At first, it was his guilt over her mother's death that drove him to ensure her future would be secured. For her first few months in Seattle, he kept a close eye on her. "Like an anonymous guardian angel", Kara once likened him to. Once she'd started to settle in with her new family and started to fulfill her potential, he backed off, only helping once by telling Lyla to consider recruiting her into her ARGUS.

He answered the call from Mia hastily. "Got it already?" he asked.

"Retrieving the files from SCPD wasn't too hard. It took me longer to look through Starling Port, but it was a slow day at work, so I got it done. How do you want this?"

Oliver gave her the server address for his VPN to allow a wireless file transfer. As the files downloaded, he asked her about Starling Port. "What did you find on Starling Port?"

"Not much. Seems pretty clean to me, but I did find something that may be of interest. I checked the load plans for several of their ships, and for the past month, each ship's cargo has been under the limit by 10 metric tonnes when usually, they pack it to the brim."

"That could easily be explained as them having fewer orders, or a simple calculation mistake," replied Oliver.

"Yeah, I know, but you told me to look into Starling Port for a reason, and given the weapon and drug influx into the city, I don't think it's far-fetched to say that 10 tons of undocumented cargo are how the weapons and drugs are being smuggled into the city."

Oliver pondered on her theory for a few seconds before replying. "Makes sense." He glanced at the monitor, noting the files had been downloaded. "Thank you for your help, Mia. I really appreciate it."

"Is this the last I'll be hearing from you?"

"I've already involved you in this more than I wanted. If you do hear from me again, it'll probably only be under dire circumstances."

"If this is the last time, then good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for... Or not, I guess."

"Goodbye, Mia."

"Bye."

As soon as the call ended, Oliver immediately began looking through the files. He read through the findings of the cases thoroughly, pausing on almost every single word to make sure he didn't miss anything. He started with the mass shooting and Emily Pollard's murder, before moving on to the bank robbery and Diaz's escape from Slabside. As he digested the information and his mind finally came to a conclusion, his gut churned with distress. For a minute, his thoughts resonated with Mia's words as he contemplated whether he had found what he either did or didn't want.

Nonetheless, he had to do something. He swiftly made a summarised dossier of his findings before hastily leaving his apartment and setting off to City Hall.

Quentin Lance pinched his brow following a large gulp of water from the glass on his desk. Oliver was right that the responsibility of being the mayor would start to bear heavier on him over time. While Quentin had been through far tougher times than the current situation at hand, his first month in office almost couldn't have gone any worse. Crime and drug use was spiking to levels not seen since 2021 with the city's most notorious drug-lord back on the streets. The death of two council members hadn't helped either, with Pollard being murdered and Councilman Kullens having apparently committed suicide a few weeks ago. His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his office practically burst open.

"Oliver?" he said in surprise, immediately noting Oliver's anxious movements as he closed the door behind himself.

"Sorry for the late visit, but it's urgent," replied Oliver.

"Don't worry about it. You know if it's an emergency then I'm here to help," replied Quentin. He could sense that Oliver's silence was because of his nerves. "Oliver, what is it?"

"Quentin… something is going on in this city."

"Crime spikes are nothing new, Oliver," replied Quentin coolly, but Oliver persisted.

"This isn't a normal crime spike, Quentin." Oliver handed over his dossier before he continued. "The mass shooting. The shooter used 7.62x54mmR rounds which had to have been fired by a Dragunov, a Russian military-grade rifle. Those were also the same rounds used to murder Emily Pollard."

"You're suggesting it was the same shooter?"

"Yes, and I don't think Councilman Kullens committed suicide either. I think he was murdered too."

"So, you think a serial killer is targeting city council members?" asked Quentin, with doubt in his voice.

"No, Quentin, it's deeper than that. Gang activity in The Glades is resurgent, and they're being equipped with military-grade weapons and are selling drugs which I think are being shipped in via the docks." Quentin's silence as he read through the dossier prompted Oliver to continue speaking.

"Ricardo Diaz didn't break out of prison by himself, he was broken out by the people that I think are behind all of this. At the prison, someone got in, and within minutes they were out. CCTV cameras were shut down. No witnesses. Same MO for the Starling Bank robbery and for the Applied Sciences break-in."

"Who are these people and why the hell would they be doing this?"

"I don't know, Quentin. Whoever is behind all of this, I don't know why they're doing it, I'm just sure that they are doing it."

"How the hell did you even get all of this information?" asked Quentin, as he lifted his head from the dossier.

"Just… an old friend helped me out."

"Yeah, right… I don't know Oliver," said Quentin, as he dropped the dossier on his desk, "I'm going to be honest with you. I think you're being parano-"

Quentin's words were cut short when two bullets punched through a glass window and embedded themselves in his chest. He slumped over, and Oliver instinctively acted quickly, ducking and pulling Quentin down to behind the desk with him. Crouched behind the desk, no more shots were fired, but Oliver dared not take a peek to see where a shooter was potentially stationed lest he himself catch a bullet.

The bullets that hit Quentin went clean through. Blood was still spurting out of the wounds, and Oliver immediately took off his coat and pressed it down on Quentin's chest. The door opened, but Oliver quickly screamed for them not to enter. If the sniper was lying in wait, they could be his next victim. A head peaked through the slightly open door and it was Jack Major, with the door being open just enough for Oliver to recognise the look of shock on his face.

"He's been shot. Call 911!" screamed Oliver.

Whoever was behind this had just made things a whole lot more personal…

"How is he doing?" asked Oliver as he sprung to his feet. Dr Schwartz had just left Quentin's ward at Starling General. It had been over a couple of hours since he had been shot, and judging by the look on Dr Schwartz's face, she had good news.

"He's stabilised. The bullets missed his aorta by centimeters. He's lucky to be alive," replied Dr Schwartz.

"He's going to make a full recovery, right?" asked Oliver.

"If no complications arise, then yes."

"Complications?"

"Well, Mayor Lance is 63 years old, with a history of heart problems. We're going to keep him here for the next few days just to make sure he makes a steady recovery."

Oliver thanked Dr Schwartz before entering the ward. The two police officers stationed outside the door didn't bat an eye as Oliver entered. Quentin's pale face turned towards Oliver. His bed was positioned to the left of the room, away from the windows, and the curtains were closed as well, two precautionary measures taken given the circumstances which led to Quentin ending up here in the first place.

"How are you feeling?" asked Oliver.

"Like crap," replied Quentin bluntly. "Let me guess. 7.62 caliber rounds?" asked Quentin.

"That appears to be the case," replied Oliver. After a few seconds of silence, Quentin finally spoke up.

"Turns out you're right. Someone trying to take me out definitely means there's something bigger at play here," said Quentin, "I know we don't know anything about 'em, but tonight just proved how dangerous these guys are. The next step of their plan was to take me out, and that means whatever else they're planning must be big and we have to stop them… you know what that means right?"

The undertone of Quentin's question was not missed by Oliver, who sighed deeply before replying. "Quentin… I don't know if I'm that person anymore."

"I know, I'm sorry. You don't even have to hood up again or anything. Just keep looking into things, will ya?" requested Quentin, "I have a feeling an outside perspective is going to be needed."

"What does that mean?" asked Oliver, picking up on the spite in Quentin's voice.

"When Diaz escaped, we were trying to keep it under wraps, but somehow the news got out. I figured that wasn't too big of a deal, but Morgan, the detective, told me that Diaz's men were fully prepared for the ACU. Like they knew they were coming."

"You think there may be moles in the SCPD or your administration?"

"There might be. Just make sure it's one of the things you look into."

"I will. Get some rest. Don't strain yourself."

"I'll try my best," said Quentin, with a laboured smile.

Oliver left his bedside, and immediately upon exiting the ward ran into Diggle.

"Oliver. How is he?" asked Diggle immediately.

"He's stable," replied Oliver succinctly.

"Sorry, I would've come earlier but I was tangled up at ARGUS. Only caught the news just now."

"Speaking of ARGUS," said Oliver, as he moved away from the police officers with Diggle, "We need ARGUS agents outside his door."

"Yeah, sure, of course."

"No, not just like that. Quentin suspects that whoever is behind this may have people inside the police. We can't trust anybody unless we're sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, Diggle. Just taking precautions for now." As Oliver began to walk away, Diggle immediately recognised the vigour in Oliver's step.

"Where are you heading now?" he asked.

"Just going to check up on something," replied Oliver, as he quickly shot Cisco a text before hastily heading for the exit.

The grimey crunches of rotten wood and shattered glass under each of Oliver's steps were extravagantly audible as Oliver entered the former building from where he ran his initial mayoral campaign. The place hadn't changed much in the past 7 years, apart from its abandonment causing it to decay further. The full moonlight provided just enough illumination for Oliver to make out the cobwebs littering every corner and the remains of what a few years ago would have been a desk. He pressed the button situated under a railing on the wall, and waited patiently for the secret elevator doors to open. Nothing… He pressed the button again to no avail. Cisco arrived with a briefcase as Oliver pressed the button again, with a breach opening up next to him and Cisco stepping through.

"Hey. I heard the news, so I figured it was urgent," said Cisco immediately. "Why aren't you down there already?"

"Elevator is not working," replied Oliver.

"You try the alternate entrance?" asked Cisco.

"Was about to, but then you arrived. Can you breach us down?"

"Sure thing," replied Cisco, putting on his reverb glasses back on and opening a breach in front of him and Oliver. As they stepped through, they wondered for a second if they were in the wrong place, but it quickly made sense to them that the place was pitch-black. Oliver pulled out his phone and activated the flashlight. They were on the main platform in the center of The Bunker. He moved back towards the elevator where the main power switch was stationed and pushed it up. No change.

"Well, that means the main power is out," said Cisco.

"Don't worry. We used to keep chem lights in case something like this happened," said Oliver, as he moved towards the drawers to his right where the chem lights were stored. He pulled them out, tossing a few to Cisco before turning on the ones in his hand. Immediately, The Bunker was lit up with a purple hue, and the state that it was in was made clear. Vines and weeds growing everywhere and the steel structures had begun to form rust.

"This place has seen better days," remarked Cisco.

"What, did you expect something different?" asked Oliver.

"I was at least hoping for something different."

"Can you get this place to work?" asked Oliver bluntly.

"Sure, I'll take a look," replied Cisco, as he left the platform to check the main power board.

Oliver moved to take a seat at the table at the far end of The Bunker. He tested the chair first, making sure it wouldn't collapse under his weight before sitting on it. As soon as he sat down and took a deep breath, he scorned himself for being back in this place. In the past seven years, apart from the Earth-X invasion, he hadn't even entertained the thought of returning to The Bunker. His gaze shifted towards where the casings of the suits formerly would have been. Following the incident, Oliver removed the suits from the display and packed them away.

He felt the very guilt which he had managed to suppress over the past seven years start to return, and he contemplated getting up and leaving immediately, but he quickly reminded himself that such wouldn't be possible without a breach from Cisco. He had dwelled so deeply in thought that he hadn't realised that Cisco had concluded his inspection.

"Can't get it to work?" asked Oliver.

"Right now, definitely not. I went to go check the rest of the place and it's bad. Really bad. Basically, all of the circuits in this place are completely blown. Literally destroyed. How the hell did that happen? This place is supposed to be off-the-grid," asked Cisco.

"Helix set off an EMP in this area about four years ago. That may have something to do with it."

"Right. Well, the backup power is somehow fried too. This place is dead."

"How long would it take you to fix it?" asked Oliver, hoping for a positive answer.

"Cleaning up the place won't take long, but getting everything back up and running? I don't know, probably a month at the least. We'd practically have to rewire every circuit in this place. Is that a problem?"

"It might be… It's okay. I think have another place I can work out of," said Oliver. "I'll give you the location as well as an inventory of what I'll need."

"Inventory?" said Cisco, wide-eyed.

"Yes."

"So this means you're back in business?" asked Cisco with child-like enthusiasm.

"Probably," replied Oliver.

"Well, I guess that means I should give you this," he replied, as he placed his briefcase on the table and opened it. Oliver had assumed it was a tool kit which Cisco had brought along, but as soon as he saw what was inside, he hadn't ever been happier to be wrong.

Cisco handled the brand new Green Arrow suit with care, evidently as proud of his new design as anyone could possibly be. Oliver couldn't hide his approval as soon as he saw it, gazing upon the suit with admiration. The suit was a darker shade of green than his previous suit, and the cloth hood reminded him of Shado's, the one sowed on to his very first suit. Cisco handed it to him, and Oliver inspected it further as he took it in his hands while Cisco explained its new features to him.

"I designed this a while ago in case you ever made a comeback, and I've made a lot of improvements. It's lighter, there's more space to carry gear, and it's laced with cutting-edge body armour. Silicone carbide discs woven in between the fabric. Zero penetration from low to medium caliber rounds, but it'll still hurt like a bitch if you get shot, obviously. What do you think?" asked Cisco, seeking approval like a child who had just drawn his first picture for his mother.

"I like it," replied Oliver. That was as good as an approval you'd get from Oliver Queen, so Cisco gave himself a mental pat on the back before moving on to the next item in the briefcase.

"I also got you this. Courtesy of our friends from Earth-38," said Cisco, as he handed Oliver what seemed to be a small handheld device. Oliver immediately knew what it was, jolting his hand forward and causing the device to unfold into a black recurve bow.

"Promethium-lined bow. Promethium is an alien metal. Way stronger than steel. This bow will stand up to a lot of damage whilst being able to dish it out," explained Cisco.

"I know. Stronger than Nth metal too," replied Oliver. This actually wasn't the first time Oliver had wielded a Promethium bow. This bow was an improvement over the last one he had used. "Thank you Cisco," said Oliver.

"No worries, man."

Oliver realised it was time to leave, and placed the suit and bow back in the briefcase. "Alright, let's get out of here."