Chase trembled as he sat on a chair in the middle of the dark room that he had been forced into. As he looked to either side of his body, he saw an armed man standing next to him with a hand on their visible weapon and if he had to guess they each had at least one more weapon that he couldn't see. He knew who had summoned him, but he wasn't sure why.

He hadn't reached out for any more information because Malcolm refused to publish any more of his articles unless Chase came forward with a source. He was hoping to find a way around that before having to bring it up to his source.

Nervously he rapped his fingers against the sides of the chair. All he could do was sit there in silence like an idiot because he had no idea what Slade wanted with him. Typically Slade was the one feeding him information, not the other way around, so he hoped that he wasn't expecting any.

A burst of cold air rushed into the room, and the two men standing on either side of Chase walked away, leaving him alone in the dark. The thud of footsteps coming up behind him made him shiver in anticipation. A rough hand crashed into his shoulder as Slade made himself visible out of the corner of Chase's eye.

"Hello, Chase," Slade growled. "Long time, no see."

Adrian's eyes widened as Slade walked around in front of him, and he felt his heart start to race. The panic was beginning to kick in, and he felt his throat dry up. He started coughing and pulled at the binds that held him against the chair.

"Calm down," Slade grumbled, grabbing a chair from the table and slamming it down in front of Chase. "All you are going to do is add bruises to your wrists, and I'm sure you don't want to try and come up with a way to explain those away at work now, do you?"

Chase shook his head furiously. He watched as Slade eyed him up and down slowly. He wasn't sure what was going through the man's mind and the fact that this could be his last moments on Earth if Slade decided that was his fate.

"You know, it's considered polite to at least say hello when someone comes into the room," Slade said, tossing his head back with a laugh.

"Hello, Slade," Chase said, taking a deep breath as he waited for Slade's next move or question. He knew that no matter what he did, this could end with him in a body bag if he wasn't careful. Every question that Slade asked him had a reason, and usually, Slade already knew the answer before asking the question.

"What happened to the articles? I've noticed that you haven't appeared in the headlines nearly as often lately," Slade asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning forward on the chair.

"My editor wants a name for my source," Chase mumbled, looking down at the empty space in front of him. "Since I'm sure you don't want your name to appear in the paper, I wasn't sure what to tell him. So I haven't been pushing to get anything published."

"What happened to confidential sources?" Slade asked, furrowing his brow. "The last I checked, keeping a confidential source was still a legal way to make a report."

"A report, yes," Chase said, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced up at Slade. "It would appear that The Sentinel wants to be a reputable source of news and information for the people of Star City."

"Then I suggest you come up with a way to get your name back on the front page with articles destroying Oliver Queen's reputation, or your family will find your name listed in the obituaries."

Slade got up from the chair and threw it back under the table. He stormed away from Chase and slammed the door behind him as he went, leaving Chase alone. He needed to come up with a plan to stop using the middleman to get to Queen. Chase's usefulness was running thin. It was time for a change.

. . . . . . . .

Collapsing on her bed, Felicity let out a heavy sigh. She glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand and sighed when she realized that she was going to have to be up for work in only a few short hours. This double job life was not going to cut it. If she wanted to keep living this double life, she was going to need to do something about the lack of sleep she was getting.

She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and sent a message off to her boss. A little white lie about having to be on location for an interview never hurt anyone. It would give her a chance to get a tad more sleep than what was predicted. Upon the receipt of the a-okay from her boss, Felicity smiled to herself and placed the device back on the nightstand. Rolling onto her side, Felicity snuggled into the pillow and closed her eyes.

"Hello, Felicity Smoak. I believe it's about time we meet."

Felicity's eyes snapped open, and she jolted straight up in bed, looking around her bedroom in a panic. As she turned her head to the window, she saw a shadow figure moving closer, but the curtain still covered their face.

"Who are you, and how the hell did you get into my apartment?" Felicity asked, slowly reaching for her phone and sliding it onto the bed.

"You'll learn who I am soon enough," the figure said, moving closer to her bed. His face was revealed, but Felicity had no idea who it was.

Before he reached the bed, Felicity opened her contacts and scrolled to Oliver's name quickly. She pressed his number and allowed the phone to start ringing. As long as he could hear what was happening here, then she might make it out of this alive.

"Who are you?" she demanded, tossing the bedsheet over the phone so that he couldn't see it lying there.

"Hello?" Oliver's voice said through the phone.

"I told you, you'll learn who I am soon enough. Now I'm going to give you a choice. You can come with me willingly, or we can do this the hard way," the figure said, pulling a knife out of his pocket and flashing it in Felicity's direction. "So Ms. Smoak, which is it going to be?"

"Felicity, what's going on?" Oliver's voice shouted through the phone.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Felicity growled. "Especially if you don't tell me who the hell you are and how you got into my apartment."

"Hard way it is," he growled, lunging toward her on the bed and wrapping an arm around her waist and hoisting her in the air.

"Oliver!"

"Oliver Queen can't help you now," he hissed, stalking away from the bed and toward the window. "He'll have to schedule a visit with an old friend if he wants to save you. You better hurry, kid, before I do to her what I did to your mother."