Chapter 5
"Movement"
"In a grave of roses, while the night is closing in
My soul is so cold, but I want to live again
I know You'll come to me, I wait in misery
I want to fight for this, save me from this darkness!" -"I want to live!" Skillet.
"We could possibly track down this… Vigilantee." Sara shrugged, drumming her fingers on her laptop. The den, headquarters, was nicely empty for the moment. Sara wasn't sure if she felt safer underground or high up. "You said he had a full auto SCAR and an MP5k? It's a lead."
"If we had a whole team of researchers maybe." Oliver signed. "The visor seemed like it might have been a high tech upgrade. Easier to track. But compared to Prometheus…"
"I already asked a few league contacts if they know of anyone who might be operating in the state, or be out for your head." Sara shrugged. She glanced at the racks of submachine guns and assault rifles. "I'm a little amazed you've got an armory down here… you stopped using your bow as a melee weapon, I hope?"
"Ehh…" Oliver said, doing that thing with his hand.
"I will buy you a nice knife if I need to." Sara said, shaking her head. "I think whoever it is though… I think he knows you. It's hard for people to hold such fury against a faceless person… and the Green Arrow really hasn't done anything that horrible."
"Oh, and my past lives did?" Oliver remarked.
"You killed a lot people." Sara said evenly. She strolled over to a gun rack, removed a submachine gun, shouldering it. "Blowback happens."
"I did what needed to be done." Oliver said.
"Not bashing what you did. I'm pointing out—either this Prometheus is someone from your past, or a rogue from the League. I would think Malcolm could be behind it, but that's not his style." Sara idly played with the mechanism, checked the magazine, and was almost surprised to see it loaded. "He would be different. He likes cat's paws but not so much collateral." He had used Thea as a cat's paw before for his dirty work… something Sara remembered all too well.
"So while your league contacts work, we go through my past kills and find any with living relatives, between 21 and 45." Oliver said. The word "kills" had almost snagged on his tongue. It felt strange to say.
"We start with the wealthy targets, who had a value of a million or more." Sara agreed. "I really doubt some bodyguard's son decided to come after you."
"Felicity can start." Oliver sighed, texting a line to her. Sara looked thoughtful.
"The news calls him the throwing star killer. Have you examined any of the throwing stars? Are they hand made, commercial..?"
"We did. We believe he makes them from my arrowheads." Oliver said. Sara sat upright.
"Are you serious?" She asked, stunned. Oliver nodded. "What if he's a cop? Or someone with the local police department?"
"Hardly the only place to get my arrows." Oliver said, shrugging.
"How else? Ebay?" She demanded, clicking open and searching "vigilante arrows." A variety of items popped up. None were even close to being legitimate. "You're sure they are actually your arrows?" She locked the laptop and yanked her phone out.
"Felicity was pretty positive, and I believe her." Oliver said, getting up and grabbing his jacket, heading for the door. Sara was right behind him, speed dialing a number on her phone. "Dad, it's me. We need to find every arrow from the Hood, the Arrow, and the Green Arrow, and find if they are still in police evidence." Sara said. "Watch your back. Prometheus might be a cop, or someone in a position dealing closely with the cops. Or he hired someone to steal the Hood's arrows for him." The elevator hummed upwards. The doors opened, and they ran towards the exit, only for Oliver to hesitate.
"What if he anticipated this?" Oliver asked. "Part of his plan?"
"Then he's already got some alert if we check the evidence and look for the arrows." Sara said. "We need to know. There's got to be footage or evidence on who stole them if they're gone. And some of it's on a computer, but Felicity can't exactly hack log books or check boxes."
"I'll drive." Oliver said. "Text the rest of the team. Tell them to watch their backs." Sara checked the glove box of the car, removed the Springfield XD Subcompact 9mm, racked the slide, before pulling out her phone again.
"They're all gone." Quentin Lance said, glancing around the small warehouse again, making sure it was empty. He had sent the desk officer outside. "We checked the logs, found the evidence boxes. The arrowheads have been removed. We started at the oldest cases and every one is missing."
"Cameras?" Oliver asked. Quentin nodded. "There's several cameras. If they were functioning, they saw who did it. But some of them had been there for years since last examined. So anyone over the last two years could have logged they were getting some other evidence, and gotten the arrowheads." Quentin sighed.
"Still… it at least means that Prometheus is likely a cop, or related to it." Sara said, trying to think.
"I really doubt a cop." Quentin said, shaking his head.
"Why?" Oliver asked. Quentin shrugged.
"Haven't you learned anything from dealing with me and the SCPD?" Quentin asked. Oliver groaned.
"Spare me the mystery and cut to the point." He said.
"The way Prometheus is coming at you, is not how a cop would do it." Quentin said. "Cop clichés exist for a reason. Whoever this is, is grandiose, brutal, patient. You really see some cop slaughtering a police escort to get to church? Killing random civilians just to taunt you? A cop would start killing everyone around you, and then he'd kill you. Whoever this is, isn't a cop. He'd be too arrogant to answer to me and you like that. And cops are not the most free people around… he'd want something more independent."
"Who else could get in here at will?" Sara mused. "I really doubt he's custodial or a building engineer."
"The District Attorney's office would be able to come and go at ease." Oliver said quietly. "And someone close enough to keep constant tabs on me in City Hall…" He sent another text.
"Anyone in mind in particular?" Quentin asked.
"Someone I saw get shot, who handled it like a soldier." Oliver said tersely.