Last time: When she was gone, Maseo opened his hand. And in it he found a small vial of amber colored liquid.

xoxoxo

The Foundry was filled with the sound of wooden sticks meeting each other in combat. Clang. Clang. Swosh. Clang. Again and again they clashed, filling the air with their rhythmic percussion. The noise carried in the large cavernous space of the underground lair, filling every nook and cranny.

There was a short pause as Digg and Roy circled each other on the mats, analyzing their opponent's moves, weighing options and planning their next attacks. Seconds ticked by. And suddenly, as if on a silent agreement, that short reprieve ended.

Roy attacked the older man with a right-handed jab to the ribs, which Digg intercepted easily with his own stick, redirecting Roy's hit into empty space. Using the momentum of this move, he ducked in a spin, his backhanded strike taking out the younger man's knee, making it fold. Roy hit the mats. Face first!

"Again!" Diggle demanded promptly.

Roy looked up at the man he had come to see as another mentor. John Diggle had taken him in as soon as Oliver brought him into the fold. No questions asked. And Roy would be eternally grateful for that. But damn, the man was a hard taskmaster. So Roy sighed, stood up, took his stance and they began their dance anew.

They traded several blows, falling into a pattern. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left…

"Finally!"

Felicity's shout made Roy glance in her direction, a purely instinctual reaction, to which he paid the price immediately. He never saw the Escrima-stick coming that he would have otherwise blocked with one of his own, or at least his forearm - it landed with a resounding smack.

To stunned to move, it took a second for the pain to register. "Owww. Damnit!" He yelled and shot a mean look at Diggle, while carefully touching his aching jaw, opening and closing it, to try and determine if anything was broken. It certainly felt that way. Ugh…

"What is it, blondie? And for future reference, could you 'please' curb your need to yell out while we're training. Ugh… I think the big guy knocked a few of my teeth loose." Roy complained, but there was no real bite behind his words, as he approached her part of the lair, followed by a not in the least bit remorseful looking John Diggle.

The woman in question pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders innocently. "If you boys feel the need to beat each other up with bamboo-sticks… well…" She didn't finish the sentence. And she didn't look remorseful either, Roy noted, quiet to the contrary!

"They are called Escrima-sticks" Roy corrected her while reverently laying down the sticks Oliver had only just shown him how to use.

He remembered sitting down with Oliver one evening in the lair. He had thought they would do another training session with the bow. Instead Oliver had opened an old box, revealing a set of four 'bamboo-sticks'. Today, Roy regretted his first reaction to the Escrima-sticks. Back then, he had rolled his eyes at his mentor, asking him if they were now gonna beat each other up with sticks. And what use would they be against the weapons of their opponents. At his words, Oliver's lips had ticked up in a reminiscent half-smile. 'They are called Escrima-sticks', he had explained, 'Let me teach you, and you'll see.' Now, those very same sticks were a part of his 'arsenal'. He carried them in holders on his lower legs. "And we didn't beat each other up, we were training. That is, until you so rudely interrupted us."

Felicity just rolled her eyes, choosing not comment on that. Instead she swiveled her chair back towards her computers. With a few lightning-fast strokes on her keyboard the small screen's content suddenly appeared on the widescreen monitor that stood in the center of the lair.

"Like I already said, I found something." She repeated her earlier words, stood and walked up to the touchscreen-monitor which showed at least a hundred different pictures and videos on its huge surface. The boys, still sweaty from their training-session, towels around their necks, followed her, their curiosity piqued.

"What did you find?" Digg's words were slightly muffled by the towel he was wiping his face with.

"It wasn't easy. I had to go back to the day Oliver left and sift my way through several thousand gigabites of stored camera-footage. But I found her. We were right. She wasn't as careful in hiding her tracks as Oliver, probably, because she saw no need to."

"Good for us," mumbled Roy, not yet sure what Felicity was hinting at. But he was positive, he would find out soon enough.

Without comment, Felicity touched one of the images to enlarge it to full-screen mode.

Digg's eyes widened imperceptibly. There she was. Nyssa al Ghul. She wore regular clothes, yes, but Digg would have recognized that face; the long, jet-black hair and the stiff and almost regal posture anywhere. He was sure! A surge of anger passed through him, made him grit his teeth and tighten the hold on the towel in his left hand. How dare she? He knew, she would have been aware of the cameras. Maybe not all of them. But she had to know that they were there, filming everyone passing by. And yet, she still strutted along those halls, as if she owned them. As if she didn't care.

Next to her another tall man walked, his features identifying him as to be, at least partly, of Asian origin. He had long black hair, held back in a strict ponytail. Who was he? Maybe another league member?

A tap of Felicity's fingers brought the image to life. It turned into a video, showing Nyssa and the as yet unknown man entering a gangway to board a plane. "This was taken by a camera at the Starling City Airport on the same day Oliver left."

Roy and Digg looked from the screen to Felicity, waiting for her to go on, knowing she had more information lined up to share with them. No question about that. This was Felicity. With a little bit of finger magic, Felicity turned the huge monitor into a three-way split-screen, one side still showing the video, another holding the flight manifests of Starling City Airport and below both a map filled the rest of the screen.

"I checked all her known or otherwise possible aliases. She took a flight under the name 'Nyssa Ratkoo, the one we already knew by the way, to Calgary, Canada. The man who was with her, his name is Maseo Tatsume, probably also an alias. From there they chartered a small Cessna to take them to …" While speaking, she had swiped her fingers across the map, enlarging the part she wanted to show the boys. "…here. Banff, a small city at the base of the Canadian Rockies, just slightly more than 7000 citizens."

Digg narrowed his eyes, analyzing the map that showed the small town and its surrounding area. His sense of tactical awareness – honed by years in the military and leading men across dangerous terrain, having to plan routes and find secures locations – kick-started. "This doesn't make sense." He concluded with a shake of his head

Felicity raised an eyebrow, astonishment written in big, bold letters all over her features – like a neon sign. Did Digg just question her search results? He had never done that before. She was about to ask him to explain that statement, but didn't get to. Digg continued as if he had noticed her consternation. Knowing Digg, he probably had.

"I mean solely from a tactical standpoint." He clarified. "This makes no sense to me. Banff is too small and doesn't have any large, solid structures one could fortify or use as base of operations, even less a hidden one. It is also too open and stretched out to hold on to it easily. I can't imagine this being Nyssa's final destination or there being a hidden League-base. They've probably moved on from there. Do we know where? Do you have any information on where she went… Felicity?" Digg looked questioningly at her.

Felicity shook her head, her squinted eyes making frown lines pop up on her forehead, clearly showing her frustration. "No. Sadly, Banff's small airport still lives in the electronic middle ages. They have a closed monitoring system, which isn't connected to any servers I could hack or gain entry to. As far as I know, they still store their video-data analogical."

Digg, thought he almost heard her growl as she spoke those last words.

"I mean, who still does that?" It sounded almost like she took it as a personal affront.

"Well, obviously they do," Roy added, regretting it the very moment the words had left his mouth, because Felicity shot him a dark look. He raised his hands in surrender, choosing to pick his battles elsewhere, ones, he could preferably win! Instead he asked the more pressing question. "What do we do now?"

It was Digg who answered. "Since Felicity can't hack their data remotely and we need to get our hands on it, I only see one option." He concluded. "We have to go there and do some old-fashioned break and entry. Are you up for it Roy?"

The young man rolled his eyes. "You know who you are talking to, right? Right!"

Felicity sighed. "Great. I am computer-scientist, turned hacker, turned vigilante-sidekick, turned housebreaker," she muttered under her breath. "Well, it isn't like I haven't done it before," she added in an almost cheerful afterthought.

ooxoxo