Before anything else, preparation is the key to success.-Alexander Graham Bell
Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. This is a slightly shorter than usual chapter, meant to both bridge the gaps between the last chapter and the next one (almost there. Climax and epilogue I believe), and also as a Christmas present to my loyal and amazing readers. I freely admit to being half asleep while editing this, so sorry if I missed a bunch of mistakes.
Merry Christmas and a happy New Years to all! (Please God let 2021 be less memorable than 2020-the phrase "may you live in interesting times" was originally a curse, you know).
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Key to Success
Felicity punched the wall so hard they all heard a loud 'crack' when her knuckle impacted the concrete when Dig grimly delivered the news that Isabel Rochev, the irritating bitch who'd made it her business to frustrate Oliver's every effort to restore QC to its' previous reputation, had kidnapped the CEO. Given the way she had lifted his muscular, tall form seemingly effortlessly, it was obvious that Rochev was in league with Slade and had been dosed with Mirakuru. Felicity cursed herself for not putting the pieces together earlier. In hindsight, it was obvious. She would have done the same thing in Slade's position, or at least something similar.
"Oh, yes, ruin your shooting ability now of all times, that really helps fix this disaster," Sara told her best friend sarcastically. "Feel any better?"
Felicity shot a glare at her. "A broken knuckle would never ruin my aim," the archer insisted stubbornly. Truthfully too. Felicity had made seemingly impossible shots with much worse injuries. "This barely counts as being hurt."
The two doctors scoffed in disagreement at that. Tommy was eyeing Felicity like he was debating whether or not he could persuade her to let him wrap her hand (he easily recognized that it was n unlikely hope) while Aly mostly kept her focus on Thea, reluctant to leave her unwatched even for a moment when she was unconscious after receiving an experimental drug, but Sara bobbed her head in agreement at Felicity's claim. The two of them had a disturbingly high pain tolerance that drove everyone around them spare. Especially Tommy and Aly.
"What are we going to do?" Dig interrupted the pair.
Felicity bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to make it bleed. "How's Thea doing?" She asked eventually, turning to the two physicians attending the heiress.
Aly pursed her lips, glancing over the various monitors the young heiress was attached too. "She'll be fine," she decided finally. "She's just unconscious, but her brain activity is assuring."
"So, does the cure work?" Sara wondered.
"According to these readings, yes, it seems like it," Tommy confirmed. "Best guess, she's not waking up because her body needs time to recover and adjust to the changes in her brain chemistry and muscles."
"Alright," Felicity murmured, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Well, those bastards being unconscious for a while isn't gonna bother me. Dig, you said there was no ransom letter or any sort of message?"
"No, nothing except the hidden CCTV you have in Oliver's office," Dig responded. "Even the regular one was altered so it seemed like he left willingly with me after getting a phone call. Must have been some sophisticated cloning."
"Slade never settles for anything less than the very best," Felicity muttered, a plan beginning to form in her head. "Okay," she said after a moment. "I need to make a call to Waller and call in a couple dozen of the favours that she owes me."
"Alright," the others agreed.
"Should we start getting ready for a fight?" Roy asked anxiously.
Felicity gave a curt nod. "Definitely," she agreed. "A big one."
The ARGUS truck parked in the empty lot that had been selected for the meeting, and out of stepped Waller herself, Lyla and several dozen others all dressed in black special ops gear.
"You have the cure?" Felicity inquired briskly, striding over to the Director.
"I do," she confirmed, giving a sharp nod. "Two thousand vials of it, all prepared as you wished."
"Good," Felicity breathed. "Give me fifty-four doses*, and spread the rest around."
"Understood," Waller agreed, gesturing at her subordinates to get to work.
Lyla had been debating for the best part of two weeks now when (and if) she should tell Johnny her news. This wasn't something they had ever expected, ever planned for. Even before their divorce, when Carly was pregnant or Andy Junior was a baby, they had only briefly touched on the topic of the two of them having a child together once or twice in a "will that be us one day?" sort of conversation. Most of their marriage was spent in a warzone, where the thought of bringing a child into the world was unacceptable, and then when they returned stateside all they ever did was argue. Would this news bring them closer or cause too much strain on their re-burgeoning relationship, making it collapse for a second time?
Lyla didn't want that. Even when she was serving him divorce papers, desperate to get away from the ruins of her marriage before her love turned to hate, she still loved Johnny with all her heart. To this day she still wished they could have made it work the way they'd planned. The thought of losing him a second time was soul shattering. Especially when this time there was a child to be considered as well. Their baby was already the centre of Lyla's world. She couldn't, wouldn't let her and Johnny's relationship struggles affect their child.
She had informed her superiors immediately on the standard post-mission physical detecting her pregnancy, and as per protocol she was mostly being kept out of the field, staying in the various command centres overseeing the missions instead. But any time she tried to find the courage to call her ex-husband turned lover, she found herself chickening out in a way very uncharacteristic of her.
Give me a terrorist holding a knife to my throat any day, she had thought with a mixture of ruefulness and bitterness every time she set the phone down without dialling his speed dial, or dodged his concerned questions on what she was keeping from him. He knew her too well to believe her when she tried to cover it up or blame it on work. She feared that by keeping her news to herself, she was letting him slip right through her fingers all over again. She feared the same would happen if she admitted the truth too.
But the sudden turn of events and Queen's kidnapping made her mind up for her. She didn't know Felicity's plan, but she knew her husband, and knew that he wouldn't stay back while his closest friends risked their lives against a deadly foe with a vendetta and nothing left to lose. Those were always the worst type of enemies to face.
She couldn't let him go and risk his life without knowing, so as soon as she could she pulled him away from the rest into a corner for some privacy, facing him and letting out a nervous breath.
"Lyla, you planning on telling me what's been going on with you lately?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. She could see the strain in his eyes, and knew that the guilt of Oliver being taken on his watch must've been killing him. Even as she doubted herself, she forced herself to push through the sickening twist of nerves in her gut. He had to know.
"Yes," she nodded, taking another nervous breath and releasing it. His concerned look increased, this time directed at her, and he reached out to cup her cheek. She couldn't have stopped herself leaning into his calloused hand if she wanted to.
"Lyla, whatever's going on, we'll get through this together," he insisted. "Just tell me. Don't shut me out Lyla, please."
"Johnny, I'm pregnant," she confessed before she lost her courage, meeting his suddenly stunned expression. It said a lot that her news made his eternally neutral expression disappear. "We're going to be parents."
Felicity noticed that Lyla had discreetly pulled Dig to the side and was speaking quietly to him. Whatever it was, they weren't arguing or anything, so Felicity ignored the couple and concentrated on grabbing the vials and preparing her supplies. If she knew Slade (and she did), then she knew exactly where and when to meet him. From their recent cold war, she knew that his mental state might be erratic from the effects of the Mirakuru, but he still followed the same type of strategy, the way he had been taught to plan by the Australian Secret Intelligence Service.
The one thing that worried her was whether or not he still knew her as well as he once had. If so, he would be able to predict her own plans as well. She could only pray that the three years with ARGUS and the Bratva had changed the way she strategized enough to keep him on the back foot.
"I just received confirmation," Waller informed her, putting a cell phone away and striding over to where Felicity was bent over a large box full of cures. "Your mother-in-law, son, sister-in-law and her boyfriend along with the rest, have all been taken into protective custody and moved to separate safehouses until this is over."
Felicity figured she was going to have some problems, both from ARGUS itself and from her family once this was over for having had the Queens, Roy, Sin and the Jacksons all hauled into protective custody without even warning them, but she didn't regret doing so. They would be as safe as could be under the watchful eyes of the ARGUS agents assigned to them. Felicity hated the agency with a passion, but she gave credit where credit was due. They were fucking good at what they did. (She was better though.)
Besides, if she was dead by the end of this crisis, there'd be no way for them to get pissed at her. Respect the dead and all that jazz.
Her only regret was that she hadn't been able to arrange for her dad to go into protective custody too, but with the coming disaster, he would probably be needed at the police station, and she doubted he would have been willing to go with the mysterious agents in the first place.
"What's your plan?" Waller interrogated her in an authoritative voice. Felicity hadn't informed the older woman of anything yet, simply calling her and giving orders, and the archer could tell her ex-boss was going out of mind from irritation at the lack of answers, despite her cool, emotionless expression and voice.
Felicity gave a dry smile in response to Waller's demand for knowledge, as she stood up, dusted off her vigilante uniform and slung her bulging quiver over her shoulder.
"My plan is to win."