Roy wasn't sure where Oliver might be, but he turned to Izzy. She was awake and piecing together a breakfast of instant oatmeal over a small cookstove. Her hands moved automatically, her eyes focused on something else. Roy followed her gaze to the front gate of the DuPries estate. A small door swung open, and Geraldine emerged in her school uniform. Immediately, Izzy reached into her pocket and fingered the phone she kept there. Roy heard it beep softly. Izzy still would not look at him. He scooted closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She shrank away.

"I need to go," he began.

"Go then," she snapped back, finishing her meal and leaving the lidded pot on the extinguished stove as she swung down from the platform. Roy followed her to the ground.

"Hey," he called after her, "I'm sorry."

Izzy had released all her emotions, confessed her pain, and slept off the angst. Now, as she turned and looked at her penitent brother, she realized she could sigh away the rest of her burden. She shook her head. "I'm sorry too," she whispered. She held out her hand to him. "Friends?" She cracked a shy smile.

Roy grinned. "Siblings," he answered, reaching his arm around her shoulders.

Izzy laughed and leaned against him, wrapping her arm around his waist.

"Now, Roy!" Felicity repeated.

Roy looked over at his sister. "Do you want to come back with me?"

Izzy sighed. "Yeah, I think I should. I have a few more apologies to make."

Roy knew he should have expected the wierd looks from everyone as he walked down the stairs the next morning with his arm around the woman who not long ago had expressed a desire to kill him.
Diggle grinned, "I'm guessing you two made up?"
Roy ducked his head.

Izzy grinned and murmured, "Well, kinda." She pulled away from Roy and said, "I should apologize for knocking you out earlier. It was totally the wrong way to handle things, and I'm sorry."

Diggle nodded. "You did what you felt was right."

"And it's a good thing, too," Felicity called from in front of the monitors. "Looks like we may have been tripping on a red herring."

Oliver watched Roy and Izzy—once incapable of getting within arms reach of each other—jostle one another playfully as they read over Felicity's shoulder. The sight reminded him of Thea, and the relationship they once shared. Maybe Roy was an okay kid after all.

He shook his head and watched the files appear on the screen. What was Felicity saying about red herrings?
"You're saying DuPries was a cover?"

"Not exactly," Felicity answered. "You know how Geraldine was attacked by the Madre Muerte guys in the alley when we met Izzy? Well, I did some more digging, and guess what!" She pulled up personnel files and applications for Starling Underground, the pipeworks factory owned by DuPries and Associates.

"He's got members working in his factory," Oliver answered, feeling a crushing sense of defeat. He'd had the guy in his sights, and the man had completely fooled him, making him think that he knew nothing. DuPries was certainly complicit!
"That can't be!" Izzy cried.

"Face it," Oliver cried vindictively, "DuPries hired Madre Muerte to work for him."
"I don't think so." Izzy pointed to the top of the form. "Check the date."
"So?"

"So I happen to know that Mr. DuPries was on vacation with Gerry that day—and he never takes work with him on vacation." She gestured toward the keyboard. "May I?"
Felicity scooted out of her way with a shrug. "Be my guest."

Izzy proceeded to open each application, and then all the incriminating files. "Check the dates on all these," she said, "and you'll find that they all occurred during times when Gordon was indisposed and could not have filled them out."
"You're saying he was framed?" Oliver queried.

Izzy turned to face him, "I'm saying that somebody's going through a lot of trouble to defame a good man. Maybe you should start trying to figure out why and who might have it in for Gordon DuPries."

Oliver huffed, but Felicity was already nodding.
"Okay, Izzy," she said, "Help me look for the info on the trips DuPries took in the last year, and we'll cross reference them with dates on these orders he signed."
"Allegedly," Izzy reminded her.
Diggle caught Oliver shaking his head. "It's worth a shot," the former Marine acknowledged.

Oliver glared at him, not ready to support Izzy just yet.
"Not everybody takes a trip and actually goes somewhere," he reminded his bodyguard. He pulled out his phone and dialed.
Diggle understood. This was one of the rare opportunities in which Oliver could spend doing his Hood activities full-time because he'd convinced his family he was taking a business trip. Of course, it was a dummy corporation he'd invented for times when he could not afford to be switching back and forth constantly—times like now.
He traveled back down the stairs.
"Keep looking," he said when Felicity stopped and turned to him. "I'm going to contact Laurel and see what she's found out."

Across town, Geraldine had just finished school and was now anxiously waiting for the town car. Her dad had admonished her to come straight home, and she'd promised she would. He'd arranged to send his own driver to pick her up. More than ever, Gerry just wanted to be safe with her dad.
The cream-colored car finally pulled down the street. Gerry waved at Johnston, the driver. He grinned and waved back. No sooner than the car stopped did Gerry throw open the door and dive inside—right into the waiting muzzle of a gun.

"Hello, Geraldine," said the thin, balding man holding the gun. He grinned maniacally. "My name is Jeff, and I'll be your guardian for today." His eyes slipped to Johnston. "Drive or she dies!" he barked. "Take us back to the factory!"
"Who are you?" Geraldine demanded. "What do you want from me?"

"The only thing I want from you," he growled at her, "is to be silent!" He leered at her suspiciously. "Has the little princess got any electronics on her?"
Geraldine gulped. "N-n-no," she stammered. "Dad didn't like them, and I never needed them. There's nothing I have that you want, I swear!"

Jeff wagged his head and clicked his tongue. "Aw, that's too bad. Looks like I'm going to have to use my own phone, then." He raised it and dialed, gun still trained on Gerry's head. "Don't make a peep, or I'll blow your brains out.
A man's voice answered, "Hello?"

"Oh good, you don't screen your calls," Jeff answered. "We have the girl."

"Oh okay," suddenly the man sounded very nervous. Gerry strained to distinguish the voice; was it her father? Had her own father arranged her kidnapping? Or was it someone else familiar? "Um, I'll be by later to check on her."

"I don't think I need to remind you yet again that the Madre Muerte are not to be trifled with."

"I'll be there, I swear!"

"Tsk, tsk! So much swearing going on! But I already know how good your word is. If you're not there by seven, I'm sending out a search party."
Jeff didn't bother waiting for a response before he ended the call.

When they reached the main factory for Starling Underground, Jeff gagged Geraldine with a cloth and led her out of the car. Johnston emerged too—but it was really another Madre Muerte in disguise. How had they known Geraldine would be waiting for the car driven by DuPries' chauffeur, and not taking the bus or walking with friends as she normally did?
Geraldine wondered these things as they led her to an out-building on the side of the factory.

"There are two doors," Jeff informed her as he tied her hands, "This one, which leads outside, and that one, which leads into the factory. The outside door will be locked from the outside, and I have guards stationed all along the walkway inside. You will stay here till I send someone for you. Understand?"

Geraldine whimpered around her gag but nodded. She shrank away as Jeff reached out to stroke her cheek.
"Such a pretty face," he murmured softly. "I'd hate to ruin it." He laughed and shoved her away so hard that she sprawled on the ground. He left, locking the door behind him as promised, and Geraldine was alone.