Sorry for the long cliffie guys! I thought I had more chapters ready to go and, of course, didn't.

The song for this chapter is Fire Meets Fate by Ruelle.

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Chapter Seventeen: Fire Meets Fate

Felicity dragged Oliver awkwardly to the door, supporting as much of his weight as she could while she jumped and shuffled to avoid putting weight on his broken leg. She could smell the metallic tang of blood and sweat clinging to his skin and she was filled with rage as she imagined how he had acquired each and every injury. When they entered the room where she had left Diggle and Deadshot, she was relieved to see that the guards they had been fighting when she'd left were all unconscious or dead on the floor. Digg sported a gash on his cheek, blood sluggishly making its way down his face. Deadshot looked mostly unhurt as he kept watch on the staircase they had entered from.

"Oliver," Diggle said as he moved forward to relieve Felicity, pulling Oliver's arm over his shoulder and pulling him close to support his weight.

"Digg," Oliver rasped slowly.

"Yeah, man, it's me."

"We need to splint his leg if we want to move," Felicity said quietly. Diggle nodded and gently eased Oliver to the floor against the wall. Felicity looked around for something they could use. She grabbed an overturned chair and smashed it against the opposite wall. It shattered into pieces and she tossed the back away and grabbed two of the leg pieces, handing them to Digg. She then grabbed a flag that was hanging from one wall and managed to rip into pieces. She knelt by Oliver's side as Digg examined the break and placed the chair legs on the ground on either side of Oliver's leg.

"You're going to need to hold his leg steady," Digg told her. She placed her hands gently but firmly on Oliver's leg and he moaned in pain. Her eyes met his and she hoped that he could see the apology in hers. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, bracing himself while Diggle began to wrap the flag tightly around the chair legs and the leg. Oliver grunted in pain, unwilling to cry out. Digg moved fast, securing Oliver's leg to the wood until his leg was stabilized.

"We need to get out of here," he told Oliver. He began to move his friend into a position where he could support him when Lawton cursed.

"We've got incoming," he spat, checking his ammunition and guns. Felicity felt fear run through her veins.

"How many," she asked.

"At least twelve," he told her grimly. She wasn't a tactical expert but even she knew that four opponents per each of their rag tag team was impossible. She closed her eyes and bit down on the emotions threatening to overwhelm and paralyze her.

"Just leave me," Oliver whispered. "They know I was spying. They won't stop until they've killed me." His hand gripped hers weakly and she turned to face him. He watched through fuzzy vision as her face changed before him. She grew stony and blank, her eyes deadening.

"Then I'll kill them first," she deadpanned and he hazily wondered where this new Felicity had come from. The sound of boot steps and shouts echoed down the staircase and Felicity pulled her hand from his and reloaded her gun before moving to stand behind Lawton, Diggle following her. Uniformed men rushed into the room, guns up as they focused on Oliver's prone and barely conscious body. Felicity shot one while her companions took out two others. Lawton smashed the butt of his gun into another's face as they flooded into the room. Felicity immediately engaged a man heading straight for Oliver with his gun raised, knocking the weapon from his hand. He fought back, landing blows to her abdomen and back before she managed to shoot him. Another man was on her as his compatriot fell. He used his superior size and strength to propel her into the wall and she felt the wind explode from her lungs and out of her body, leaving her dizzy. He grabbed her by the neck and whirled her around.

"Drop your weapons," a voice shouted in Russian and she turned dazedly to see one of the men had made it to Oliver and was holding a gun to his head. "Drop them now or I shoot him." Felicity turned to see Diggle and Lawton frozen with their guns raised. They looked at her before slowly setting their weapons to the floor. "Hands on your head," he instructed them. "Bring them over here," he told his men nearest them. She was shoved unceremoniously down next to Oliver who was staring at her in horror. Diggle and Lawton knelt on his other side. The remaining men raised their guns, stepping back to form a line between them and the door.

"I don't know how you got in here or how you managed to kill Kovar. But you failed. No one will even find your bodies." Felicity closed her eyes, thoughts moving to Norah, who would be left parentless again. Gunshots echoed around the room and Felicity jumped. Bodies dropped to the floor in front of her and she looked up in surprise to see several men with guns had replaced their captors. A man moved from behind them and she waited tensely for him to speak.

"Ah, my friend, what has Kovar done to you," he asked softly as he approached Oliver, kneeling before him and examining the damage done.

"Anatoly," Oliver sighed. "Are you here to kill me too?" Anatoly stared at him sadly for a moment.

"No," he finally said. "We will help you and your companions to a vehicle where you will be driven to the small airfield you landed at and you will leave Russia." Felicity turned slightly to see Diggle but he was watching Anatoly suspiciously.

"And why would you help us," he asked gruffly.

"Kovar was a threat to the Brotherhood and his country," Anatoly said flatly. "His motivations and aspirations were in opposition to the Bratva values. You took care of a problem that we had and we will return the favor and see that you get out of my country alive. But," he said sharply, looking down at Oliver, "you will not be welcome in Russia again. You are no longer Bratva, Oliver. We are honor bound this time but you are now an enemy to us." Oliver stared up at him before nodding slightly.

"Thank you, Anatoly." The Russian nodded before barking commands at his men. They began to move quickly. Some started to grab the dead or unconscious bodies Felicity's team had handled and began to move them. A few came forward and grabbed Oliver under both his arms and carried him out of the room, Felicity, Diggle and Lawton following, escorted by other men and Anatoly. They made their way through the facility and to the exit where Lyla and Harley were waiting by a truck with their own escorts.

"My goodness but I don't even know what to do with myself with all these big, strong men taking charge," Harley crooned to the man next to her. "Are you sure I can't take one along as a souvenir," she asked Lyla. Lyla rolled her eyes before her eyes met Felicity's.

"It seems we owe these men a thank you," she said drily. Felicity grimaced at her.

"Let's just get Oliver home," she said brittley as the men carrying him laid him in the bed of the truck. She noticed that he had succumbed to the pain and trauma inflicted on him and was mercifully unconscious. Lyla, Harley and Lawton climbed in to sit by him. Diggle waited for her but before she climbed in, she rounded on Anatoly.

"The attack the Bratva was planning on Starling City," she said to him and he frowned at her. "You're going to stop it," she ordered. His men tensed and brought their weapons up as he eyed her speculatively.

"And why would I take orders from you," he asked genially.

"If Starling City is attacked, if anywhere is attacked and I trace it back to the Bratva, I will turn it back on you and make you disappear so fast that no one will ever even believe you existed," she growled lowly.

"Felicity," Digg whispered, grabbing her arm. She shook him off. Anatoly met her gaze.

"If we did attack," he said slowly, "you couldn't know if it was us. I don't believe you could do much, Уважаемые." Felicity smiled, sweet but it took on a feral tinge that unsettled the Russian.

"I can find anything, Mr. Knyazev. If I even suspect Bratva involvement… well, you won't be around long enough to wonder how I found out. I will erase you and everything and everyone you've ever loved from existence and turn your own men against you with a few strokes of the keyboard." She stepped closer to him, ignoring Diggle's warning and the cocking of guns as the Bratva readied themselves to defend their leader. "And that includes Annika," she whispered in Russian and she heard his sharp intake of breath. "I can find anyone," she promised. "This ends here."

"Who are you," he demanded.

"Someone you should be very afraid of," she warned and stepped back. He instructed his men to lower their weapons. "Goodbye, Mr. Knyazev." She moved toward the truck and Diggle helped her inside before settling in next to Harley.

"In my line of work, my dear, you make a choice, you do not look back," he said approaching the truck. "I hope you understand yours." She stared at him until he turned away and the truck roared to life and made its way out of the courtyard and back to the stark countryside they had driven through before.

"Felicity, what the hell," Diggle asked her darkly. She met his gaze blankly.

"I just went through hell getting Oliver out of that place. I'm not leaving it to blind faith that it ends there."

"You threatened the head of the Russian mob," he shouted and Oliver stirred.

"Awh, leave her alone," Harley chimed in. "We girls have to make sure that men know we're forces to be reckoned with. 'Sides," she added brightly, "she was defending her man. Isn't that just romantic?" Diggle clenched his jaw but Felicity shook her head at him.

"I won't apologize for what I did or what I said. I know the deepest secrets he has and now he knows that too."

"What could you possibly know that would give you this level of confidence," Lyla asked quietly.

"I know that his sister isn't actually dead and I also know exactly how and where to find her. He won't risk that, not after going through such lengths to keep her hidden and make the world believe she died." Lyla stared at her, worry turning her features and boiling in her eyes. Felicity turned her attention to Oliver.

"I've got you," she muttered to him, running her fingertips over the unmarred side of his face softly. Lyla watched her from her seat, the uncomfortable realization settling like lead in her stomach that in preparing Felicity for this kind of eventuality, she had created a monster in her friend.