Oliver enlists the help of Detective Mack Morgan to look deeper into the recent events in the city.
At 9:30 am, Oliver was forced awake by the sound of someone furiously knocking on his door. Normally, a 9:30 start to the day wouldn't be too bad at all for him, but with his late night previously, he'd hoped to be able to sleep in for a little longer. He hadn't had any luck with the phone, which meant that he was going to have to ask for help from Mia again. As he quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants and left his room, the female voice on the other side screaming his name became clearer. He knew exactly who it was, and was met with her infuriated face as he opened the door.
"We need to talk," said Thea, as Oliver made way for her to enter. Roy had come too, and he followed Thea into the apartment.
"I'm about to make breakfast. You guys want anything?" asked Oliver casually, infuriating Thea even further.
"Ollie, what the hell is going on?" she asked. Oliver raised his hands in protest, but Roy quickly chimed in too.
"Don't even bother telling us that it's someone else. We know it's you," he said.
"What the hell are you doing?" Thea scorned him.
"Quentin was about to be killed. I had to do something," replied Oliver meekly.
"Yeah, and you somehow magically got your hands on a bow and suit within seconds? Cut the bullshit, Ollie. Why are you doing this?"
"I'm sure you must have a good reason," said Roy objectively. Roy was far less angry at Oliver, and appeared to be trying to play the middle-man here. Oliver wouldn't advise him to go against his wife, but he appreciated the minimal support nonetheless.
"Something is going on in the city. I need to get to the bottom of it," replied Oliver succinctly.
"You don't have to hood up for that," replied Thea, "Going out there again, you can get hurt or…"
Oliver interrupted her before her thought process continued. "Thea, nothing is going to happen to me. I promise," said Oliver adamantly, "Hooding up is just temporary. Once I get to the bottom of it all, I will hang it up again, and I will gladly spend the rest of my life in an office at Queen Industries."
"What is 'it all', exactly?" asked Roy.
"I don't even know yet. The chances are that I'm blowing it all out of proportion, and when I find that out, I will hand it over to the SCPD or ARGUS and then forget about it. That is the most likely scenario." He would have preferred not to lie, but he had to ease the nerves of his sister. "Don't stress about me, Thea. Please. Stress is bad for the baby," he said with a grin, prompting a small smile out of her.
"I'm just trying to look out for you, Ollie," she said concernedly.
"Thank you, and I appreciate it. I'm not doing this alone, either. Dig and Barry have my back, and I do have some other new friends who are helping me. Everything is going to be fine. Now, do you want some breakfast or not?"
"No, we ate already. I'm late for the office anyway, we should get going."
As Thea wheeled herself out, Roy momentarily hung back to quickly speak with Oliver.
"You know I'm here if you need any help right?" he said softly, but Oliver quickly shut him down.
"No, Roy, you have a kid on the way. I don't want you out there risking your life."
"Alright. I just hope those new friends that you spoke about know what they're doing," he said, before leaving too. His words forced Oliver to think. Not about the capabilities of his 'friends', but the fact that he didn't really have any. A necessary lie to get them off his case, but he did still need more allies. Perhaps it was time to get some…
Detective Mack Morgan shuffled uncomfortably in his bed for the umpteenth time as he tried to find a comfortable position to sleep. He usually preferred to lie on his left side but couldn't right now. The pain of the bullet wound on his left shoulder would become unbearable. Worse for him, he found it impossible to sleep lying straight on his back, and he couldn't clear his mind and stop it from replaying the events of the previous night. He grabbed his watch from his bedside and checked the time. 00:17. He wasn't falling asleep anytime soon, so he rose carefully so as not to wake the body next to him.
His fiance, Elizabeth. Lizzy, as he called her. He found it hard to wrap his head around the fact that they'd known each other for almost 10 years now. They had met in their final years of college and began dating shortly after they'd first met. Nearly a decade later and they remarkably haven't looked back since. During his initial first few years as a patrol officer, she always worried deeply about him. At the time, violent crime was rife in Star City and Morgan had almost lost his life on numerous occasions. Recently, however, she worried less. The city had become safer and as a detective, he was less prone to being shot at on a daily basis. Well, until now.
Morgan exited quietly before entering the other bedroom in their small townhouse. The bed was unoccupied, but the crib that stood next to it wasn't. Their 11-month-old son lay soundly asleep in his cot. Dustin, they'd named him. Apart from the events of the attack, the only other things on his mind were thoughts of Lizzy and Dustin. Previously, every time he'd been shot or hurt in the line of duty, he soldiered on without dwelling too much on it. It was part of the job, and he knew he was willing to give his life to save others but all of that had changed now. This was the first time he had had a brush with death since Dustin had been born, and he couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if he had died out there. Not only the tragedy of Dustin growing up without his father, but also the thought of leaving Lizzy to raise him by herself. He couldn't do that to her.
He left the room and headed to the kitchen. He poured himself a large glass of water on the kitchen counter before sipping on it, but mid-way through the drink, he paused. He heard the faint thuds of footsteps behind him, and he immediately cursed himself for leaving his firearm in his bedroom. With his heart beating tremendously, he grabbed a knife as he spun around, tensing his body as he locked his eyes on the figure shrouded in the darkness of his unlit living room.
As quickly as he had tensed, he relaxed, taking a deep breath before placing the knife on the kitchen table as the hooded man stepped further into the light.
"You could have knocked," said Morgan, still a bit on edge.
"How's the shoulder?" asked the Green Arrow.
"It hurts, but I'll be fine."
"Thank you for letting me go," he said, gratefully.
"Thank you for saving my life," replied Morgan, equally grateful. "Why the visit?"
"Last night wasn't a once-off event. The people who wanted Mayor Lance dead are the same people behind everything else that's been going on in the city. The drugs, the shootings, the assassinations… These events are all linked, each being orchestrated by an entity that is unknown as of right now. Everything I've discovered that's led me to that conclusion is on here," he finished as he handed a USB device to Morgan.
"Why are you giving me this?"
"Because I need someone that I can trust in the police department to be aware of this. Captain Smith was keeping everything pretty close to the chest and information about Lance's transport still somehow got out. There might be a leak in the police."
"You want me to find out who it is?"
"If you can, but keep a very low profile. You've seen up close how dangerous these guys are. Be very careful, Detective, for your family's sake."
"Need anything else from me?"
"Albert Davis, CEO of Starling Port. I believe his ships are how drugs and weapons are getting into the city. I need you to look into that however you can. I'll be in touch," he said as he handed Morgan a phone, before turning to leave.
"Hey," said Morgan, calling him back, "Are you the same guy, or are you someone new?" he asked, referring to the Green Arrow's identity.
He countered with a question of his own without turning around. "Does it matter?"
"I don't know. Maybe," replied Morgan thoughtfully.
"You're a detective. What do you think?"
"Some of the evidence points to you being someone new, but I think you're him. I can see it on your face. The years of experience and wear and tear, but I could be wrong. Am I?"
Mack Morgan did not receive a response from his hooded acquaintance, who left as Morgan returned to bed, hearing the same faint squeal of an electric motorcycle until it was silent once again.
"Talk go well?" asked Diggle, as Oliver trod down the stairs to the lair.
"Yep. Morgan is on board," replied Oliver, as he took off his hood and mask. Diggle had been skeptical earlier about Oliver working with Morgan, but Oliver convinced him that the kid was trustworthy. Even if the kid firing at the mercenaries and not at Oliver wasn't enough, a thorough background check confirmed to Oliver that they were on the same side.
"So, what's our next move?" asked Dig.
"Diaz. I'm going to hit the streets, see if I can beat any intel out of local dealers and curb the distribution of Burnout. In the meantime, I want you to review footage from all CCTV cameras within a two-block radius of Quentin's attack. Start from an hour before the attack to 10 minutes after."
Diggle was almost insulted by Oliver's request. "You serious?"
"There was a sniper. If we can find any footage of him or the vehicle he used to leave, we may be able to identify him."
"That's a lot of footage, which is going to take a lot of time to look through. You do know that I have a job, right?" joked Diggle.
"Consider this your overtime," quipped Oliver to Dig's chagrin, as he collected his mask and bow and left.