Disclaimer: WB/DC own these characters. I'm only borrowing them for a while. I own the original ideas found in this. Parts of dialogue are from Arrow episod "Green Arrow" by Marc Guggenheim, Wendy Mericle, Greg Berlanti and Beth Schwartz and episod "The Candidate" by Marc Guggenheim and Keto Shimizu.
AN: I tried, I really did, to encourage myself to write up Oliver's remaining adventures in Hong Kong. I really did. But...they didn't call out to me like the season 4 island adventures have. So...I'll just skip those. We will now pick up Oliver's adventures during the fourth year away from Starling, where season 4 starts. I'm adding this last chapter to tie into the new story with the remaining season four flashbacks.
Months went by and Oliver's expertise in the specialized areas desired by Amanda developed. Missions were assigned and carried out, and bit by bit Oliver lost parts of himself. Until that last mission where everything went horribly wrong and the little boy Oliver had grown to love died. Resulting in Oliver taking out his anger with torturing a man to death. Even though he knew the death of Shrieve made the world a better place, Oliver felt ashamed and appalled at his actions.
As he said goodbye to Tatsu, Akio's bereaved mother, at the oceanfront, Oliver knew he had made the right decision. He couldn't return home, yet. To return to Starling and to nonchalantly resume his life as if nothing had happened? That he hadn't been drastically and irrevocably changed? No, he couldn't subject his mother, his sweet sister, to the monster he had become.
So that was how he had found himself hopping on a ship carrying him to Coast City. Back to America, to civilization, at least. But not to Starling, not to his family. He took meaningless jobs to get by and began to prowl the streets at night. Looking for a release for his frustration at the evils of the world, Oliver realized he could attempt to atone for his past actions by apprehending those terrible individuals who were attempting to corrupt youth like the man who had almost ruined his sister. The drug dealers overrunning the city streets. And thus that indeed was what he was doing when Amanda again came calling into his life.
One rainy night, he was chasing a most slippery individual who led him on a chase for an hour. When it looked as if he was about to capture his quarry, the criminal in question somehow caught Oliver off guard. During their fight on the rooftop, the punk was able to land a particularly effective punch in Oliver's gut, sending him flying off the ledge. Into a network of electrical wires, resulting in him hanging upside down. Suspended, helpless, and vulnerable, Oliver was disoriented from receiving an electrical shock. The punk took advantage of Oliver's predicament and fled. As he was hanging upside down, wondering what to do, he heard it, somehow, on the tarred road. Those infernal heels, once again, as if out of a nightmare. And her voice, with its unique inflections, once again. And her face, suddenly in his line of vision.
"You've certainly chosen an unusual hobby, Mr. Queen."
He shouldn't be surprised. After all, Amanda hadn't "released" him herself. Shrieve did. She couldn't be called anything but tenacious. And for some reason she still had Oliver in her gun sights. Still determined to use his ill-gotten skills for her own purpose. He really had no choice but to follow her and the man with her after they had cut him down from the wires ensnaring him. To hear what she had to say to him, and why she was in town.
Later, sitting next to her in the bar they had taken him to, he let his guard down. He was safe, he was in America. Why should he be concerned about any games this she-witch could play? So...he wasn't as observant or vigilant as he'd normally be. They were having a simple conversation over drinks, weren't they? Just two old acquaintances, right? She didn't have anything to hold over him like the last time he's seen her, forcing him into dangerous, soul-stealing missions.
"How did you find me?"
"The world's too small for someone like Oliver Queen to disappear." She took another sip of her Scotch. "Truth be told, I expected to find you in Starling City."
"I don't want to be near my family."
"Because of what you did to Shrieve? I read his autopsy report." She looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. "I knew you had a capacity for the unfathomable, but I actually underestimated you." She drank a sip of scotch, a self-satisfied smirk flitted over her face as she stared at the wall behind the bar.
"What do you want, Amanda?" Oliver broke the gaze, stared blankly in front of him and took a drink from his half-filled glass.
"To help you."
Oliver laughed. To help me. Yeah, right. Like you did last year? "Really, Amanda. And how would you do that, exactly?" He took another slip of his Scotch as he sneaked a look at her.
"You haven't returned home because you feel you're a monster. You're trying to deny it, channeling your killer instinct into something productive. But you can't change who you are in your bones."
Oliver didn't want to admit it, but she had him pegged exactly. Attempting to fake a nonchalance he didn't feel, he said, "I don't need a therapist."
Amanda gave a dry chuckle. "The hood and eye makeup may suggest otherwise. Stop trying to run from your inner darkness. Embrace it. Let it run its course." She sipped her Scotch. "Oftentimes, the only way out is through."
"Through what?" Suddenly he found the world tilting...and felt himself falling off the barstool. He caught a glimpse of four men walking towards him from both sides of his fallen body.
"ARGUS agents..." he mumbled.
Through a haze, he looked up to hear Amanda say, "When you wake up, just remember I'm trying to help you.
Sometime later Oliver opened his eyes to find himself lying on his back. He struggled to sit up, looking around him. Seeing the metal sides, hearing the loud humming of an airplane engine, he deduced he was, for some reason, on an aircraft carrier. Oliver startled when he realized he was surrounded by large mean-looking men in fatigues.
"Nice nap?"
Oliver looked up to see a young man in a three-piece suit, looking incongruous among the soldiers. "I wasn't napping. I was drugged." Looking around the plane, he didn't see the woman he wanted to kill. Oliver asked, "Where's Waller?"
"Back in Coast City sleeping off the Scotch."
"Wake her up. I want to know what I'm doing here."
"Director Waller has asked me to thank you for agreeing to take on this mission."
Oliver shook his head. "I didn't agree to take on any…" He stopped, shocked by the sudden appearance of a machine gun in his face as the well-dressed man addressed him once more.
"Sorry. We're in a bit of a clock here." A soldier approached Oliver and threw a parachute and pack at him. "Now, you're getting off this plane. You can do that with a chute on your back or a bullet in your head. Your call."
Oliver looked around, searching for answers in any of the faces in front of him without success. "Why is Waller doing this?"
"Guess she likes you," was the sarcastic reply.
"I didn't think Waller could like anybody."
"Plus, you know the terrain."
Again, Oliver was taken aback. "What terrain?"
The soldier sighed in frustration. "Your job is to infiltrate the area, assess the threat, and report back. You have AES-encrypted communication gear in your pack." Taking a breath, he continued. "Now, according to our Intel, your target may be radar capable, so you'll have to HALO in. So when you think you're about to splat, only then do you pull the chute."
Oliver's head was spinning with the details being thrown at him. He turned as the large door opened to reveal a horizon which he thought he'd never see again.
"Wait, is that..."
And suddenly he found himself off the plane, in the air, rushing to the earth, towards Lian Yu. He somehow knew what to do, from the rushed instructions he had been given. Even though his instinct was to pull the cord, Oliver waited until he couldn't any more.
The ground met him in a rush. Somehow he crouched, rolling until he stopped. He barely got his balance when he was cold-cocked from behind. Oliver struggled to his knees while a voice behind him asked, "Who are you? Answer me!"
Through the dizziness, Oliver struggled to his feet, holding his hands up in surrender. He then quickly turned and grabbed the gun by its muzzle, pointing it away from him. Striking out, he was able to find vulnerable flesh, and knocked the soldier on the ground. The soldier rolled back up, returning with a knife in his hand. Coming at Oliver, knife raised, the soldier attempted to cut Oliver. Oliver however was able to knock the knife out of his opponent's hand, quickly picked it up and stabbed it into his adversary's chest as the unknown assailant charged at him.
Dragging the body into a group of trees, he dropped it and took the computer out of the knapsack and made contact. He typed: On the ground.
He received in reply: prepare for infiltration.
Oliver looked at the screen in amazement and confusion. Say what? He typed: How am I to do that?
He got in reply: see for yourself. make them trust you.
They then signed off. Oliver grunted in frustration. He got up and surveyed the surroundings. Grabbing the knapsack, he hid it in a group of brush. Hearing nothing, he ripped his shirt in several places and dirtied his face and hands. Taking a deep breath, he headed in the direction where he'd believe their camp would be. I guess I better get this over with.
Oliver ran to the edge of the clearing and stopped in the nick of time to hide behind some brush. He took some binoculars out of the knapsack and observed cabins and fields with approximately fifteen people picking some type of crop. Three men were strategically placed around the area, holding guns, watching the people. Oliver blew out a quiet huff of frustration and headed back to the dead soldier. He bent down, picked up the body, and walked towards a large rock he knew had a landmine beside it. He placed the body on the rock, pushed it so it rolled off, and ran, covering his head. As a large explosion occurred, Oliver heard rustling and the sound of boots crunching dry tree branches.
"You! Stay down!"
He heard rustling but reacted too late. A gun cocked and a rough voice demanded, "You! Hey! Stand down." He turned around to find two men in fatigues standing in front of him, both had him in their gun sights. A third man was behind them, carrying their dead comrade. "I guess you know what happened to Kenny."
Oliver started forward, to go on the defensive, but one fired, barely missing him. "Don't move!"
Oliver weaved his fingers together and placed his hands behind his head in surrender. He began to speak, but the second man interrupted. "Just shut up."
"I only wanted to say it's a mine field, all right? That's what killed your friend. I didn't have anything to do with it."
"Who the hell are you?"
"My name is Oliver Queen. Three years ago, the yacht I was on went down in a storm and I washed up here. I survived."
The men exchanged looks, and Oliver could sense their inner arguments. Finally, one of them said, "Let's take him to Reiter. He'll know what to do with him."
Oliver wasn't sure he liked this idea but had no other choice but to follow them. They led him over to a bunch of tents. The soldier in front opened the flap of one of the tents and motioned with his gun for Oliver to enter.
One of the soldiers said, "Baron, this guy says he's…."
The dark-skinned man sitting behind the desk looked at Oliver with a mild amount of interest. "Oliver Queen." He looked at his men, lips turning slightly downward. "You don't recognize him? This man's a minor celebrity on the other side of the world." He sniffed and said to Oliver, "You're supposed to be dead."
"Nearly was. Thank you for rescuing me."
The man called Reiter chuckled and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we're not rescuing you. First thing you do once you get home is tell people what it is we're doing here."
Oliver didn't have to act stupid; he really had no idea what Reiter's operation was. "I don't know what you're doing here."
Reiter shrugged. "Be that as it may, I can't send you home. Not right now. Good news, though, I have no reason to kill you."
Biting back the sarcastic reply almost falling out of his mouth, Oliver asked, "So what are you going to do with me?"
"Good question. You've survived three years here, all alone. That requires fortitude, intelligence…qualities that are of use to me. As it happens, one of my men stepped on a landmine."
Reiter stood up and held out his hand to Oliver. "How would you like his job?"
To Be Continued in "Island Dark Danger"
AN: So, I am marking this complete. I know I kinda screwed it up. I had thought I would just take the story I had started as "Island Dark Danger" and add it here. I changed my mind. So…. if you are interested in a sequel to this, which is more AU than this chapter was….check it out. I will be adding to that story hopefully soon. And thanks again so much for reading this story. Always appreciate it, and any thoughts you'd share with me. See you next time.
