Chapter 8: Taken
A grey, overcast sky hung over Star City as the next day dawned, remnants of the previous night's storm. In a forgotten alleyway of the Glades, an expensive black sedan sat idling. Dig, dressed in a dark suit, stood outside the car, looking at his cellphone and drinking a cup of coffee. Inside the car, Roy and Mia sat in the backseat, chatting with each other.
"That's crazy," Mia commented as she smiled at Roy, "All that really happened? This Green Arrow guy saved your life?"
"Yeah," Roy confirmed with a disbelieving shake of his head, "Sometimes I feel like it was a dream I had while taking Vertigo, but then I check my phone and articles about the guy are all over social media."
"It must have been pretty exciting, being in the middle of all that," Mia observed.
"Honestly, it was terrifying," Roy admitted with a chuckle, "I mean, I spent the whole time thinking I was going to die."
"But you didn't," Mia insisted, a strange gleam in her eyes, "So, the….the adrenaline rush you must have had would have been incredible."
"You know, now that I think about it, I wasn't jonesing for Vertigo for two days after that," Roy replied pensively.
"Can't beat an all-natural high," Mia commented with a shake of her head, before sighing as she turned her attention towards the hypodermic needle filled with a yellow liquid she was holding, "But, in the meantime, we'll have to make due with this."
"You know, I've been meaning to ask," Roy said, though his gaze remained focused on the needle in Mia's hand, "How does a rich girl like you end up hooked on Vertigo?"
"You know that rich people do drugs all the time, right?" Mia replied with a snort of amusement, "Like, I've walked in on people doing lines of cocaine in the bathroom at my mom's parties on like five seperate occasions."
"That's pretty intense," Roy observed with a chuckle, "But it doesn't really answer my question. Are you doing this just for the thrill of it?"
At the question, the irreverent smirk on Mia's face faltered before fading completely.
"Yeah, I guess, kind of," Mia admitted with a shrug, "It's a better feeling than just being numb all the time."
"Numb?" Roy repeated as his brow furrowed.
"It's nothing," Mia replied with a shake of her head, her blonde hair obscuring her face, "You don't want to hear any of this."
"No, wait," Roy insisted gently as he reached over and laid a hand on Mia's arm, "Tell me."
Mia blinked in surprise as she turned to look at Roy, who smiled encouragingly back at her.
"My dad died about five years ago," Mia replied as she turned her gaze away from Roy again, a haunted look in her eyes, "Just sailed away on his yacht and never came back. And I know that sounds like a recipe for abandonment but I know my dad wouldn't have done that. He didn't always get along with my mom, but I have….I have too many good memories to believe for a second he'd ever leave me behind."
"I'm….I'm sorry to hear that," Roy said sympathetically, clearly doing his best to process what Mia was telling him.
"And the kids at school," Mia continued, her voice turning bitter, "These other rich phonies, obsessed with the boys, and cars, and parties. All this shit that just doesn't matter. They have no idea what it feels like to just….never be able to see your dad again. To never hear him tell you he loves you again. To not even be able to even visit his grave because they never found his body and so they….they just buried….an empty….box…."
At this point, Mia dissolved into a fit of sobs, covering her mouth with her hand in an effort to stifle them as tears began running down her cheeks. At first, Roy wasn't sure what to do but after a moment's hesitation, he reached his arm around Mia and pulled her close, the girl immediately leaning against him as he did.
"You know, I kind of know what that's like," Roy quietly said after a moment.
"Y-You do?" Mia sniffled, lifting her head to look at Roy with red rimmed eyes.
"Yeah," Roy replied with a sigh, a pensive expression crossing his face, "I grew up on the Chinook Reservation not far outside Star City. My dad was a forest ranger working at a nature park that sat next to the reservation, and my mom was a member of the tribe."
"So, they met, fell in love, all that usual stuff?" Mia asked, smiling slightly as she wiped her tear stained face.
"Yeah, and had me," Roy confirmed with a nod, his expression turning grim, "And then they died in a forest fire when I was three."
"Oh my God," Mia whispered in horror.
"After that, I was raised on the reservation by my grandpa," Roy continued, his eyes clouded with memory, "But a year or so ago, he got real sick and….well, there's not a lot of money on the rez, certainly not enough for medical treatments. So I came here looking for a job, but was barely able to make enough to get by, let alone pay for Grandpa's treatments. That was when Vertigo started getting big and I ended up falling in with Vlad selling the stuff."
"What happened then?" Mia inquired.
"By the time I had actual money to spend, it was too late," Roy answered, his voice cracking as he spoke, "Grandpa died and I was left with nothing. Nothing except the Vertigo. And so I quickly changed from employee to client with Vlad and ended up the loser you see before you today."
"You're not a loser, Roy," Mia argued before sighing, "Or if you are, then I am too. And we can just be druggie losers together."
"You know, when you say it like that, it doesn't sound too bad," Roy said as he wiped his eyes on the back of his hand.
"Yeah, but having said that, I don't really feel like doing Vertigo right now," Mia said as she sat up straight and set the needle to the side.
"What do you feel like doing then?" Roy inquired as his brow furrowed in confusion.
In response, Mia grabbed the back of Roy's head and pulled him into a kiss. Roy's eyes widened in surprise at this before he closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Mia as he did so.
Standing outside the car, Dig shook his head and chuckled at the sight before he took another sip of his coffee and turned away from the car. Looking around at the city street the alley led into, Dig found the area to be largely empty, except for a man in a suit making his way down the sidewalk towards him, and, judging by the state of his clothes, an apparently homeless man sitting on a bench across the street. Something about the homeless man struck Dig as familiar, and narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out what it was.
Suddenly, the sound of a car door opening caught Dig's attention, followed by Mia screaming. His eyes widening in shock, Dig instantly spun around to the car, his coffee falling forgotten from his hand and splashing against the pavement. Before him, Dig saw a pair of men dressed in street clothes and ski masks standing by the now open rear passenger doors, wrestling both Mia and Roy out of the car.
Instantly, Dig's hand went to the pistol in a shoulder holster beneath his coat. Just as his hand wrapped around the pistol grip though, he felt something hard press against the small of his back.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," someone said from behind him and by glancing slightly over his shoulder, Dig was able to see the man in the suit looming behind him.
A screeching noise brought Dig's attention back towards the alleyway, and he watched as a plain, white van quickly reversed from the other end of the alley towards them, stopping in front of the two masked men who were still holding Roy and Mia as the teenagers struggled.
"The way I see it, you're not getting paid enough to take a bullet for this brat," the man behind Dig said, "So, as long as you don't do anything stupid, you'll make it out of here al-"
The man was cut off as something slammed into both him and Dig, sending the bodyguard stumbling to the side. Catching himself against the alley wall, Dig spun around to find the homeless man sitting on the man in the suit's shoulders, his legs wrapped tightly around the gunman's neck while he wrestled for the gun with one hand. It was at that moment that Dig recognized the homeless man as the young man he had caught spying on Mia a few days prior.
As the man in the suit tried to wrestle Oliver off his shoulders, the young man lifted up his free arm before slamming his elbow onto the gunman's head, the blow impacting against the man's head with a crack and causing him to collapse to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. Oliver quickly rolled to his feet as the man collapsed, and found himself face to face with Dig.
"Who the hell are you!?" Dig demanded.
Before Oliver could answer, the rear doors to the white van opened, revealing another pair of masked men armed with machine guns. Their eyes going wide with surprise, the gunmen quickly stepped out of the van and leveled their guns at Dig and Oliver while their compatriots forced Roy and Mia into the vehicle. With lightning reflexes, Dig drew his pistol and fired off a pair of shots at one of the gunmen, hitting him in the chest and dropping him. The remaining gunman quickly returned fire, peppering the car between them with bullets as Dig and Oliver ducked behind it for cover.
"I think we're going to have to talk later," Oliver said as he and Dig crouched behind the car as he picked up an empty beer bottle and held it up for Dig to see, "You take this guy out while I cover you."
"What?" Dig questioned in confusion.
Without elaborating any further, Oliver leapt out from behind cover and hurled the empty bottle at the gunman, nailing him in the face, causing the man to cry out in pain as the glass shattered against his cranium. Taking advantage of the distraction, Dig quickly rose to his feet and leveled his gun at the masked man, plugging him twice in the chest and putting him on the ground.
"Dig!" Mia screamed just as the two other masked men closed the doors to the van and the vehicle took off screeching down the street. His eyes wide with panic, Dig took off running after the van, but the vehicle quickly outpaced him, leaving him to watch in dismay as it turned a corner and disappeared from view.
Turning on his heel, Dig rushed back over to his car, not paying Oliver any heed as the young man began dragging the man in the suit towards the back of the vehicle. Reaching the driver's side door, Dig yanked it open, only to pause as he discovered that the tire by the door was deflated, apparently punctured by a stray bullet.
"Damnit!" Dig roared as he slammed the car's door closed, his mind racing as he tried to figure out his next move.
"Hey, can you pop the trunk?" Oliver questioned from the back of the car.
"What!?" Dig demanded as he whipped his head around to glare at Oliver.
"Can you pop the trunk?" Oliver repeated, "I figure you've got a spare in there, plus I need a place to stick this guy before he wakes up."
Marching down to the back of the car, Dig looked at the man in the suit laying on the ground before turning his glare towards Oliver.
"So you gonna pop the trunk or what?" Oliver asked as he crooked an eyebrow at Dig.
Snarling, Dig reached out and grabbed Oliver by the front of his sweatshirt before lifting the smaller man off his feet and slamming his back against the brick wall of the alley, holding the young man with his feet dangling off the ground.
"Who the hell are you!?" Dig demanded, his face inches from Oliver's.
"I'm on your side!" Oliver answered, anger seeping into his features, "Or did you not notice me helping you out back there!?"
"Why though!?" Dig pressed, "Why are you following these kids around!?"
"Because Roy's my friend!" Oliver replied before hesitating, "And Mia's…."
"Mia's what!?" Dig shouted, slamming Oliver against the brick for emphasis.
"She's my sister, okay!?" Oliver snapped.
"What?" Dig questioned in confusion, his grip on Oliver's sweatshirt slacking, "What are you talking about? Mia Queen doesn't have any siblings."
"None that she knows about anyway," Oliver retorted before sighing, "Look, we don't exactly have time to run a blood test, so you're going to have to take my word on this."
"And why should I trust you?" Dig inquired as he set Oliver back on his feet.
"Well, like I said before, I'm the one on your side here," Oliver explained as he straightened his sweatshirt indignantly.
"I think I can do without help from some hobo," Dig countered with a dismissive snort as he reached into his pocket and fished out a cellphone, "I'm calling the police."
"You're joking, right?" Oliver questioned with a scornful laugh.
"No," Dig replied as he looked at Oliver with a furrowed brow, "Why?"
"Those were Cottonmouth's men," Oliver elaborated as he gestured in the direction the van had gone in, "He's got the police bought and paid for. They're more likely to toss you in jail than lift a finger to actually help you. And then there will be nothing either of us can do to help Mia or Roy."
"So, what do you suggest?" Dig inquired as he arched an eyebrow at Oliver.
"I figured we'd ask this guy where they went," Oliver replied as he nudged the man in the suit's unconscious form with his foot, "He's our only lead since you plugged the other two."
"You want to interrogate him?" Dig questioned as he looked down at the man before turning his gaze back towards Oliver, "Where? That's not the kind of thing we can just do wherever."
"I know a place," Oliver answered as he began to walk away, "Bring the guy to the old Queen Consolidated trainyard on the southside of the Glades. No one will bother us there."
"And what will you be doing in the meantime?" Dig questioned as he watched Oliver leave.
"I just got some things that I need to pick up," Oliver called over his shoulder as he broke into a jog, "See you there in an hour!"
Dig watched as Oliver disappeared around a corner, uncertainty written on his face. Letting out a sigh, Dig reached down and hoisted the man in the suit up onto one of his large shoulders before popping open the trunk. The inside of the trunk was largely bare save for a spare tire, a jack, a tire iron and a black duffle bag. Dig's eyes lingered on the bag for a moment before taking it, the tire and the tools out of the trunk and dumping the man in the suit unceremoniously inside, closing the trunk with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.
Later,
An hour or so later, Dig stood behind the closed trunk of his car, listening to the panicked thumps coming from inside the vehicle. Dig was now dressed in black khaki pants, a matching t-shirt and tactical vest, and black military boots, the word "Spartan" displayed over his heart on the vest. His pistol was now holstered on his hip and black gloves covered his hands.
Looking around as he waited impatiently, Dig took in the sight of the dilapidated trainyard. He had parked his car beneath a covered area of the yard, shafts of light piercing through the piecemeal metal awning above, while the gravel covering the ground crunched beneath his boots. Dozens of train tracks criss-crossed the yard, but most sat empty with a few missing rails that had been looted some time before. A few train cars still sat on some of the rails, including an old subway car that was covered end to end with graffiti, including the words "Ollie Ollie" prominently written in green bubble letters. The yard was surrounded by tall, chainlink fences, but nobody was guarding the area, and it had been almost laughably simple for Dig to jump the fence and open the gate for his car.
Hearing someone behind him, Dig quickly spun around, drawing his pistol and leveling it at the person in the same smooth motion. Oliver froze where he stood a few feet away from Dig, dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing before, but now equipped with his bow, quiver and facemask.
"Whoa, easy," Oliver said as he held his bow up to show he meant no harm while pulling his mask down to reveal his face, "It's just me."
"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," Dig replied as he holstered his gun again while looking at Oliver in confusion, "And why do you have a-"
Dig interrupted himself as a look of realization sprang to life on his face.
"Jesus Christ, you're the Green Arrow," Dig observed, his eyes wide.
"That's what they're calling me," Oliver agreed with a shrug as he put his mask back in place.
"Is that what this is all about?" Dig demanded, "Is Cottonmouth trying to use Roy to get to you?"
"Seems like it," Oliver confirmed, his expression grim.
"Jesus Christ," Dig swore again, glaring at Oliver as he did, "And so you've managed to get Mia, who you claim is your sister, involved with your war against the most dangerous man in the entire city!"
"I didn't intend for any of this to happen!" Oliver argued, "I just wanted someone I knew to not be murdered."
Dig sighed at this, unable to find fault in Oliver's reason.
"Fine," Dig said as he planted his hands on his hips, "Either way, we have to fix this. So shall we talk to our friend in the trunk?"
"Sure," Oliver said as he pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it to Dig, "Put this on first."
Catching the object, Dig looked at it, a confused expression crossing his face as he saw that it was a black ski mask.
"What do you want me to do with this?" Dig inquired as he looked at Oliver with an arched eyebrow.
"Put it on, obviously," Oliver replied sarcastically as he walked over to the trunk of the car.
"I'm pretty sure this guy already knows what I look like," Dig pointed out drolly.
"Look, maybe he didn't get a good look at you," Oliver countered with a shrug, "All I know is that I'm dealing with a mess of trouble without people knowing who I am. I can't imagine how bad it'd be if they did, and now, you're in the same boat as I am."
Dig seemed to consider what Oliver said for a moment before sighing and pulling the mask on.
"There, happy?" Dig questioned with an exasperated tone.
"Yeah," Oliver replied, before giving Dig an appraising look, "You might want to cover up that ink on your arm too."
As Oliver pointed it out, Dig looked at the tattoo on his right bicep, a black shield with a red seven on it. Sighing, Dig walked over to the car and opened the passenger door before reaching in and pulling out a black leather jacket which he slipped on.
"We good?" Dig asked as he closed the car door and walked over to the trunk of the car.
"Yeah," Oliver confirmed as he gestured at the trunk, "Open her up."
Drawing his pistol with one hand and the car's fob with the other, Dig pressed a button on the small device, causing the car to let out a beep before the trunk popped open. Instantly, the man within scrambled to his feet, but before he could flee, Dig pointed his pistol at the man, while Oliver leveled his bow and arrow at his chest.
"Holy shit," the man in the suit whispered, his eyes going wide as he slowly raised his hands into the air, "You're the Green Arrow."
"Yeah," Oliver confirmed with a nod, his eyes narrowing at the man, "I get the sense that you work for someone who's looking for me. That true?"
The man gave no answer and continued to stare at Oliver in shock.
"Hey," Dig said, causing the man to look at him before glance down at his gun, "The man asked you a question."
"I-uh-I-" the man babbled as he glanced rapidly between Dig's masked face and his gun.
Snarling in frustration, Dig reached out and grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, dragging him over before shoving the barrel of his gun under the man's chin.
"Answer the question!" Dig roared, glaring directly into the other man's eyes.
"Alright, alright!" the man replied fearfully, freezing as he felt the gun against his chin, "Yeah, we grabbed the kid because the boss wanted to press him for information about the new vigilante."
"And the girl?" Dig pressed, "Why take her?"
"It was just an opportunity, you know?" the man explained with a helpless shrug, "She's some rich kid, right? We figured we could ransom her off. Not taking her would be leaving money on the table."
The callousness of this remark caused Dig's eyes to narrow angrily and his finger began inching toward the pistol's trigger.
"Well, as you can see, that was a very stupid thing to do," Oliver said as he stepped up next to Dig and placed a hand on the larger man's arm, causing him to pull his finger away from the trigger, "Now, how about you tell us where your friends took them?"
"No way," the man replied with a shake of his head, "If I tell you where they are, I'm a dead man."
"Who's to say you're not one already!?" Dig snarled as he pressed the barrel of his gun harder against the man's chin.
"Easy, Spartan," Oliver said as he placed a hand on Dig's arm, who blinked in surprise at the name, "He can't talk if he's dead."
"You idiots don't get it," the man growled as Dig lessened the pressure, "I'm not talking at all! I see right through your good cop, bad cop routine!"
"Is that so?" Oliver questioned as he looked up at the man before shrugging helplessly, "Well, if we're not going to get anything out of you, I guess we might as well let you walk."
"What!?" Dig questioned in shock as he whipped his head around to stare at Oliver.
"For real?" the man asked, blinking in surprise.
"What are you doing!?" Dig demanded as he glared at Oliver.
"Clearly this isn't working," Oliver explained, "So we're going to try a new approach. Let him go."
Completely baffled, Dig lowered his gun before shoving the man away. The man caught himself after a few stumbling steps before he straightened his clothes and looked back at Oliver and Dig with a cocky smirk.
"I hope you don't think I'm stupid enough to go running back to where we're holding those kids," the man said with a chuckle, "Because I'm not going anywhere near that place. I will do you both a favor and not tell my boss about this little conversation."
"That's kind of you," Oliver commented as Dig continued to watch the scene in silent confusion.
"Don't thank me yet, pal," the man said as he began walking away, flashing a sinister smile as he did, "Boss still wants to find you so I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."
"Sooner than you might think," Oliver replied under his breath.
"God, what a bunch of idiots," the man commented to himself, laughing as he walked, "And to think, Cottonmouth was worried-AAAAAGH!"
The man cut himself off with a screech of pain as an arrow suddenly pierced through his left calf, sending him tumbling to the ground as he clutched his leg in pain. Eyes widening in surprise, Dig looked down at Oliver, who was standing with his bow still raised, the string humming with unspent energy. Wordlessly, Oliver lowered the bow and made his way over to the man who was writhing on the ground in pain.
"AHHH, you shot me!" the man screamed as he looked up at Oliver, "You goddamn shot me! You said I could walk!"
"Well, it looks like you won't be walking anywhere for a while," Oliver observed conversationally, "So maybe we can talk some more?"
"Screw you!" the man screamed definitely, "I'm not telling you-AAAAGGHH!"
The man's screams of agony cut off his words once more as Oliver pressed his foot down against the man's wounded leg.
"You know what your biggest mistake in all of this was?" Oliver questioned, ignoring the man's cries of pain, "Assuming I was the good cop."
As Dig watched in shock, Oliver crouched down and grabbed the man's chin, forcing him to look into the archer's cold, grey eyes.
"Now tell me where they are," Oliver snarled, watching as the man's face went pale from fear and pain, "Or you're gonna wish I let my partner put a bullet in your head."
Meanwhile,
The sun was setting on the outskirts of Star City, where a two-story motel sat on the side of a highway leading out of town. The motel looked like it had seen better days, with faded paint and cracked pavement, though a number of cars were still parked in the lot surrounding it. A large sign sat on top of the building's flat roof, with flashing, neon letters that read "The Seahorse Motel."
In one of the motel's second-story rooms, Shades sat in a decades-old, upholstered chair, holding his sunglasses in one hand while pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. Roy and Mia, their mouths gagged and their hands bound behind their backs, kneeled on the stained brown carpet in front of him.
"Can someone explain to me what the hell this is?" Shades asked the other men who were standing in the cramped room while gesturing at the teenagers with his sunglasses.
"It's what you asked for, boss," one of the men answered.
"I asked for Roy Harper," Shades said, opening his eyes and looking at the man who had spoken, "This is not what I asked for."
"It-It's better, boss!" the man explained, his tone hesitant as he sensed he had made a mistake, "This is Mia Queen! Her family is loaded! I figured we-"
"You figured wrong!" Shades cut the man off with a snarl, "Cottonmouth doesn't need the money ransoming some little white girl will bring and he certainly doesn't need the attention!"
"B-But Cottonmouth owns the cops," the man argued weakly, "It's not like he's going to get taken down for this."
"The cops aren't what I'm worried about," Shades began to explain as he rose to his feet before waving his hand dismissively at the man, "You know what, I'm done talking to you."
"I'm sorry, boss, I'll-" the man began to apologize but he was cut off as Shades pulled out a gun and shot the man twice in the chest, causing Mia to scream and cry through her gag as the man's now lifeless body collapsed to the floor.
"Clean up this mess," Shades said to the other men in the room as he holstered his gun, and put his sunglasses back on, "While I go try and clean up the one you all made."
With Mia sobbing next to him, Roy watched with wide eyes as two of the men grabbed the corpse by the arms and began dragging it out of the room. His attention was suddenly diverted, however, as Shades grabbed Roy by his hair and turned his head to face him.
"And when I'm done with that, you and I are going to have a nice, long talk," Shades growled as Roy stared fearfully at his reflection in the man's sunglasses, "And one way or another, you're going to tell me everything that I want to know."
A/N: Pretty happy with how this chapter turned out. Got to do some backstory stuff and then have the plot thicken! Should be an action packed chapter next time! Until then, feedback and critiques are always welcome, so please review! Later!