Disclaimer: WB/DC own these characters. I do not. I just own any original ideas found in this.

AN: Well, I do apologize for not adding to this story sooner. My muse ran off. And then episode 10 happened, and it threw its hands up in disgust because it had been wrong. Temper tantrum, what can you do with such divas? Ha. So now, this story will be most certainly totally AU after episode 9. Hope you enjoy this next chapter. Not sure where the story will take us, but I just might add some canon in as it goes along. We shall just have to wait and see what the writers have in store for us. And how fast the Muse works in getting the rest of this story out.

Malcolm sank into the comfortably plumb armchair gratefully. It had indeed been quite the busy week. Taking pleasure in a job well done, he reviewed his accomplishments. After manipulating Oliver into the duel with Ra's and rescuing him from the mountain, Malcolm then spirited the young man away to a new hideout in the small city of St. Anthony. He had never been to St. Anthony before now, but the fact it was two hours away from Starling and somewhat remote made it a perfect hideaway.

Wisely leaving Oliver under the care of a dependable woman, Malcolm was then able to take care of the rest of the items on his list. He was pleased with the outcome of informing Oliver's colleagues of his "presumed" death. In this way he was guaranteed the time needed for Oliver's training without their pesky interference. Malcolm was confident he provided convincing enough evidence to support his claim. When they began to doubt it, as Malcolm was sure they would, hopefully Oliver would have battled Ra's a second time. Or at least be strong enough and skilled enough to battle Ra's should Ra's discover at any time Oliver was alive.

The other thing he had to check on was Thea, making sure she had plenty of his "special" tea on hand while he was gone. Her instructions were to drink the tea every day to continue to promote her "getting in touch with her spiritual side." Little did she know, the tea actually contained the herb Votura, which enabled her to be under his control. In this way, she would still be under the influence of the Votura he had been giving her all summer even when he wasn't there to actually give it to her. Thea agreed she would continue with the work-outs and the tea while he was gone the next several weeks. Malcolm knew she wanted to know where he was going, but knew from past experience the futility of such a question. He was extremely proud of her progress in developing restraint and control in many areas of her life.

Yes, his plan was working out beautifully on all fronts. Tomorrow, after a most restful sleep in a beautiful suite, Malcolm would return to Oliver and begin his training.

~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~

Oliver slept fitfully, with all sorts of dreams interfering with his sleep. However, Morpheus kept ahold on him until he was finally able to wade his way to consciousness. He blinked, trying to become awake. A niggling thought something was wrong burst through his brain. Memories flooded back, and his eyes shot open.

No one was in the room this time. He raised his arm, only to find he was still handcuffed to a bed, however, it was a different bed. In a different room. What the hell? Now where am I? And how was I brought here without waking up?

Oliver leaned back into bed and listened for any sounds in the building. He didn't hear anything. He tested the cuffs, and saw they were indeed secure. Military issued, of course. Reviewing his body, he was relieved to feeling somewhat better. He moved his legs gingerly, also relieved he felt no pain. The stitch in his side was no longer apparent with the slight movements he was capable of doing with being cuffed.

The fact Malcolm had moved him without Oliver being aware made Oliver extremely uncomfortable. He looked down at his forearms. No needle marks, no temporary IV hook-ups. If he had been out for a few days, how had Malcolm kept him nourished and hydrated? How was Malcolm able to sneak him off without Oliver being aware of any of it?

After resting for what he thought was thirty minutes, and hadn't heard any sounds from the other rooms, he decided to call out. "Is there anyone here?"

An elderly Oriental woman entered the room, her long grayish-white hair pulled back into a ponytail. She gave Oliver a small nod in greeting. "I hope you have rested well."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Mingzhu. Mr. Anderson hired me to take care of you while he is away on business."

"Mr. Anderson, so he is gone at this time?"

"Yes, and he requests you stay in bed and recover from your illness."

"Meaning I am to remain chained to the bed? Don't you think it is a little strange?"

"My role is not to question my employer. His explanation was enough for me. He stressed the importance of you getting well, and how nothing is to interfere with that." She took several steps to the door, and then turned back to him. "I will bring you some lunch now."

Oliver watched her leave, wondering about the type of woman who would work under such circumstances. He hoped he could trust the food she was going to bring him, because he was very hungry indeed.

~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~

Diggle had volunteered to test the blood on the sword knowing full well the results they would get. Unfortunately, he was correct. He ran the tests three more times, and each time they were the same. He checked blood type as well as other genetic markers, which ended up being Oliver Queen's. Now he had to break the news to Felicity.

However, a little voice inside of him was crying out in protest of the meaning of these findings. Just because the blood on the sword was Oliver's didn't necessarily mean he was dead. Why would Malcolm think they would readily accept only his word as the only proof of Oliver's death? Malcolm had offered them no other evidence, no videotape or pictures, no body. Nothing. Plus, the evidence supporting not believing or trusting Malcolm, considering his history and past behaviors, was overwhelming.

Diggle was torn. Torn regarding what to think, and what to do. What should they do? Should he and Felicity go looking for Oliver, on the slim chance he was still alive? What were the chances they would be able to find him? How should they go about it? Who should come with them, if anyone else?

The sound of heels on the metal stairs brought him out of his ruminating. Felicity entered the foundry after running some errands. "Any results yet, Diggle?"

Steeling himself, Dig replied, "Yes, it's Oliver's blood, like we thought. I ran it four times."

Felicity stopped in mid-movement. She stopped, deliberately put her purse down on the desk, and sighed. "You know, Diggle…"

"I know. We have absolutely no reason to trust Merlyn. None at all." Diggle solemnly looked Felicity squarely in the eye. "So, what do you want to do?"

Felicity sat down in the chair next to Diggle. "I think we should go to the place of the duel. Either bring home Oliver's…body, or find out where he has been all this time."

"But we don't have the address. We should never have allowed Oliver to leave without giving that to us."

"I know. Something he will never do again." Felicity looked at Diggle. "No, I am standing by that statement. No matter what Mr. Crabby Pants tries next time. If there is a next time, which there better not be." Felicity took in a necessary breath and continued, "We will find him, because he is still alive." Felicity took a deep breath and sat back in her chair. "I will continue to believe that. Or at least until we get further proof he isn't. Not just the word of a demented mad villain."

Diggle smiled. The bad guys will never stand a chance with Felicity Smoak out in the world correcting wrongs. "Okay. So you tell me what I can help you with so we can find out where our boy is and bring him home."

~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~

Felicity worked her magic and obtained the most likely location for the battle through hacking of various web sites including satellites, flight plans and international records. She then expanded the search to include any flights from the area to other parts of the world.

"Diggle, I think I found the spot of the battle. I think it was in British Columbia. I then found an interesting bit of information. Several days after the battle, a small airplane left the area in British Columbia and flew to Central City. On that plane was a man who was being transported to the States for an organ transplant. He was unconscious on a stretcher when he boarded the plane."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, then I found where someone rented a van to go from Central City to Saint Anthony. I then tracked down where a man rented a cabin to take care of his invalid brother. Who was supposedly in a vegetative state."

"You don't say."

Felicity turned to Diggle. "I think I found them, Diggle. I don't know why, but it looks like Malcolm has been keeping Oliver away from us."

"If that's correct, I will kill him myself for putting us through all of this," Diggle said through gritted teeth.

"Me first. If he had any traceable bank accounts, I would already have drained them dry." Felicity looked at her screen, then back at Digg. "So, what is next? Do we bring anyone else with us? Laurel, Ted, Roy?"

"What do you think?"

Felicity thought about it. "I'm almost certain I am correct with all of this, but what if I'm wrong? I think it should be more of a recon mission. We could always pull the local law forces into the act, if we need to." She smiled wryly. "I also think it would take too long to get Ted and Laurel up to speed, especially Ted, since we haven't fully incorporated him into the team yet."

"I agree. We'll bring Roy, though."

"Of course."

~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~

Oliver spent several more days in bed without seeing Merlyn. Mingzhu took excellent care of him, tending to his wounds and assisting him with meals and hygiene. The only thing she refused to do was allow him to walk around unaided.

"I am sorry, but Mr. Anderson was very specific. He warned me how…persuasive you can be. I am not to release you from those handcuffs. He did request me to tell you he will reconsider the cuffs once he has returned."

"How thoughtful of him," Oliver said. He could tell Mingzhu caught his sarcasm but didn't comment on it.

The third day Oliver woke from a nap to find Malcolm watching him from the chair in the room.

"I'm glad you didn't forget about me. How about some exercise?"

"Have you thought about what we talked about?"

"I haven't had much else to do since…well, I'm just hanging out here," Oliver said, jangling one of the cuffs. "I suppose I don't have a choice. We have to do what we can to stop Ra's. He will no longer leave us alone, so…I accept your offer to train me."

Malcolm nodded in agreement. "We'll begin tomorrow."

~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~

Oliver and Malcolm trained for three days. Malcolm was pleased with the progress the younger man was making in his sword-wielding technique. Oliver, on the other hand, was pleasantly surprised as to the amount of knowledge Malcolm was indeed sharing with him, not only regarding sword fighting, but the psyche of Ra's al Ghul himself. Oliver was also pleased with the progress he was making. He already could see how his last battle with Ra's could have been different.

On the fourth day, they had just finished their morning practice and was returning to the small cabin when they were suddenly surrounded by a dozen men in black outfits and hoods, armed to the teeth with swords and knives.

Oliver and Malcolm, in the center of the circle, backs to each other, began to fight them. Swords flew as the two men fought off the other twelve men. However, because of their earlier practicing, and Oliver's weakened condition, they weren't at their usual level of fighting. Unfortunately, a lucky sword hit the spot of his previous injury, making Oliver lose his concentration from the pain. Even though the Pit had healed the injury, the newly healed area was especially tender. Another member was then able to approach him from behind and get him in a choke hold. Between the bleeding and the lack of air, Oliver slowly slid to the ground in unconsciousness.

Malcolm continued to fight for a short period of time without realizing Oliver had been incapacitated. However, having received several deep cuts on his lower abdomen and upper left arm, and his combatants were increasing in number, Malcolm suddenly found himself at the business end of three swords. He had no other choice but to drop his sword and surrender. His arms were tied behind his back, and he watched Oliver's arms being similarly tied.

Malcolm attempted to maintain his footing as he wasn't so gently led over the uneven ground between two soldiers to a van which had pulled up during their battle. Oliver, being carried over the shoulders of a particularly well-built soldier, was thrown into the van. One of the guards leading Malcolm gestured to Malcolm to also get in. He clumsily managed to climb in despite his weakness and feeling unbalanced due to not being able to use his hands to maintain his balance.

They rode for five minutes over the rough ground. When the van stopped, Malcolm's eyes met the sight of a small airplane. His heart sank, even though he knew what their destination was going to be. The soldiers wasted no time in getting their prisoners loaded and the plane took off without incident.

AN: Oh no! What's going to happen next? Please leave a review if you like and make this author very happy!