Chapter 1: Caution or Cowardice
The splash of cold water finally shook the last vestigial of the nightmare from his mind. He rubbed his eyes in exasperation before slamming his hands angrily on the marble that made up his bathroom counter top.
It was always the same dream.
The same damn dream that he could never remember in the morning.
If his father knew of his internal strife he'd personally see to it that Oliver saw a psychiatrist that second.
'We can't have the future Queen anything other than sharp.' He could almost hear the deep baritone berating him. His frame rigid immobile in his mocking compassion.
His freak amnesia might have altered his memory since the accident, but his father's harsh ways were a sturdy constant in his life.
The accident.
Oliver lifted his eyes to the mirror in front of him, seeing what he always saw. Hard blue eyes, a scruff he couldn't part with, and an edge of danger to the tilt of his body. His stance unintentionally intimidating but a sharp promise to follow through. The shadows cast from his vanity creating a look of menace he was unfamiliar with.
He couldn't remember this version of himself.
He could almost taste a sense of wrong in the air.
Something was going on and it was behind his back. They were hiding something about his accident from him.
The more he thought of it, the further it alluded him, and the more it made his temper spike.
It was his own personal cat and mouse hell.
A knock on the door interrupting his musings.
"Yes?" Oliver clipped out over his shoulder while he straightened himself, pulling his smooth white button up over the expansion of his shoulders and swiftly securing the buttons.
The door opened quietly with equally quiet footing padding softly into his room.
"Sir, your car is ready to take you to Queen Consolidate." The voice was that of his bodyguard John Diggle. He remembered the man he was before his small memory loss and he had to admit even he'd changed.
'It could just be time.' He reprimanded himself silently, reaching for the silk blue tie that echoed the blue he knew in his dream. He could admit to himself that he was more on edge since waking up in that hospital than he usually was. It wasn't unbelievable that the people around him wouldn't be different. It would have to be the answer he went with for now. His memory loss was probably just making him feel overtly suspicious.
"Thanks Diggle, I'll be right there," he said with a stiff nod while continuing to loop the silk around his neck, running his fingers along the whole length in thought. This color could be considered gaudy to most but he couldn't reach for any other hue.
He shook his head again. It was time to move on with his day.
It was, after all, his duty to his people.
The walk to his car was a brief one, though halfway down the grand stairs he saw the small head of his sister bounce into his line of vision. She rounded on him with a big smile, halting his descent with a quick "Ollie!" and a happy wave.
He stopped short, forcing a tight smile on his lips.
Thea had been probing him on his memory loss harder than his doctors at times, and he was sick of everyone talking about it. He wasn't an invalid and he didn't need people hovering around him.
Not to mention the pity he kept detecting in their tone of voice was starting to irritate him on a fundamental level.
"Thea I have to go, I'm already running late," he tried to gently sway, taking a step down and pushing her back a bit. She huffed with intent, crossing her arms and locking her legs as he brushed past her.
"Ollie, how are you feeling lately?" She asked suddenly, halting the man three already steps away.
Apparently she had to do one final inquisition before he left.
He turned with a lifted brow to look back at his sister.
"Why do you ask?" He retorted disinterestedly. He wouldn't play her games and he wouldn't make it any easier on her than he did anyone else, but standing there and watching her stony face he wondered briefly why she was pulling such a poker stance.
She rolled her shoulders and eyes with exaggerated emphasis, her gaze sharp when it re-met his. "Oh, you know, it just seems like you haven't been yourself lately." At his blank stare she continued, "You know, almost like you're miss-"
"Ms. Queen," a voice suddenly ended her tirade. She abruptly stiffened strait, looking down at Diggle with a finely arched brow. "I'm sorry to interrupt," he started, though Oliver could detect no remorse in the tone, "but your phone has been ringing and it says it's from a Mr.," he let the sentence and his hand clutching said phone dangle in the air for suspense, "Har-"
"Fine!" Thea tersely cut off, hopping down the stairs and past Oliver quickly. She snatched her phone from his dangling hand and paused for a moment before skittering off in the other direction.
Oliver felt his shackles rise.
It was for a moment, but he was a Queen, and he could read a moment.
It was there again, that silent communication that was happening behind his back. Almost as if Diggle could feel his eyes assessing him he looked up with a professional smile and stiff nod, motioning towards the opened door at his side. Oliver weighed his options for a tense moment before extending a small nod in the direction of his bodyguard and continuing his descent.
He would let this one go, the nightmare was still so fresh on his ever forgetful mind and he wouldn't put it past himself to still be over analyzing the situation. He has been accused of that a time of two before. His father always warred the line between caution and cowardice was a thin one.
And Oliver wasn't sure which line he was walking yet.
Queen Consolidate was located at the heart of Starling.
It wasn't always like that. Maps that pre-dated the Darhk Dynasty, ones that were made of parchment and preserved at some of the most heavily guarded museums now, showed of a time that Queen Consolidated was located further south. This was further backed up by the satellite laser analysis of the current grid that showed it was once a thriving and large land mass. A mass which was now occupied by sea water and man made islands built in the most innovative way to save the population and conserve the remaining land.
It was technology that QC came up with. Their Applied Science division had been renowned for single handedly saving countless lives and generations of families.
It was work that Oliver took seriously. He would have always taken it seriously for his people, but his father still saw it fit to drill the gravity of it in him since childhood.
It was lessons on lessons that Oliver would soon not forget.
He smirked at the irony.
Even when he loses his memory he would still never forget his upbringing.
As he steps from the Bentley he is greeted with morning pleasantries and half bows of gratitude.
It was always the bowing that got to him. Even as a child he had seen it as ridiculous. He understood as he grew older it originated as a form of respect, but Oliver preferred to be taken as an equal with his people. It was the masses that could make the difference, not the individuals.
The elevator to the executive suit was waiting for him as he stepped into the building, hearing not but seconds later his father's voice calling out to him from ahead.
"I hope you are prepared for the meeting. Apparently we have some exciting news from Applied Science again," he said once Oliver stepped in range, the both of them hopping on the elevator.
Oliver lifted his brow, looking at his father from the corner of his eye, "did you seriously wait for me to tell me that?" He questioned after the initial ding and accent to the suit. The smile his father gave him was the standard smile. The front for the public. Robert Queen.
"I just wanted to make sure you were feeling at the top of your performance. There can be no weakness son." He simply announces, the warning going noticed to Oliver. His father; father of the year.
"I'm fine, I was absent for over a month and I didn't even need to be for that long," he explained for what felt like the hundredth time. From his father's protest to Thea's silent scrutiny and his mother's exasperation he was getting decidedly sick of everyone treating him like he was a basket case. He'd lost his memory, not his mind.
"Yes well, in this case it's best to listen and catch up instead of speak," Robert cut in quickly, the tone one Oliver knew all too well.
"Of course," he muttered as his father stepped from the sliding doors once the elevator came to a halt, calling out for his secretary and fluidly walking towards the conference room. Robert Queen was nothing if not exceptional at dictating everything in his life. He was efficient at it in ways Oliver never wanted to be, but it was something Oliver could admire in his own way.
He followed after him a step later and seeing his assistant, Curtis, come scurrying in beside him, discretely slipping a black folder into the crook of his arm. "Here's everything you asked for that I could find, nothing sticks out but take notes today and I can run another analysis on it," the man managed to whisper out at a break neck gasp before shoving Oliver the rest of the way into the conference room and shutting the door with a soft click.
Oliver rolled his shoulders with an irritated grunt before taking his seat beside his father.
While he appreciated everything Curtis did for him, he'd already had the shoving discussion with him. He got way too amped up when Oliver asked him to do things like this. Things like this being the black folder nestled discreetly among all his other folders in his hand. Oliver couldn't explain it, but for some reason he trusted Curtis. It was probably because he was hired to be his assistant after his accident, but when Oliver had come to him with some big questions Curtis had heard him out and simply offered to help. Something about the simplicity led him to trust this man and he hadn't been disappointed yet. He supposed he could handle the occasional shove. This particular folder and task he'd asked of Curtis consisted of a highly illegal peak into some recent bank transactions of everyone in the room.
Oliver could never be faulted for not being thorough.
He had to know the truth, and lately that seemed to be a fleeting thing.
Robert stood and the soft murmuring from around the table stopped. "Thank you all for being here today," he began, "let us begin immediately and see what exciting news Applied Science had brought us," he finished with a gesture towards the three gentlemen standing in the center of the room.
The Director of Applied Science and Unitec Industries, Noah Kuttler, was surrounded by his two leading scientist from the division, their presentation board laid out with numbers and graphs that would shortly be explained. The board members all turned their attention to the presentation, the meeting finally beginning.
"We believe we have finally found a way to put every port in Starling on one grid that can control it all."
The silence that followed was a heavy one, all different emotions and murmurs going through the room.
Oliver didn't know what he was expecting when he was coming to this meeting, but this was not it. This was something never before attempted but always dreamed about. The fastest way to supply every need to every civilian under one beta operator.
He didn't know how he was supposed to feel about it, but the unsettling bubble of dread in his stomach was admittedly not a reaction he was expecting.
"And the beta?" Robert demanded, bringing the room back to focus, "What beta type would we use to control it all? We don't even have processors that could sustain that large of an output of power."
Oliver felt his heart thud in anticipation. He didn't know where the trepidation was coming from.
The Director smiled and nodded excitedly, "but that's just it! With a little more research we think well have that part! We've started a new project, re-focusing our attention to the processor because we believe the beta will easily be remedied once the processor is configured," Oliver didn't think he was about to like what was about to come out of this slimy man's mouth.
"We're pleased to officially announce Project Overwatch to the board!" He proclaimed with grand theatrics.
The pencil Oliver had in his hand suddenly snapped as a sharp ring popped in his ear.
He blinked his eyes opened, not realizing he had closed them and looked up, seeing every eye—to include his fathers—on him. Slowly he relaxed his hand, discreetly catching the pencil before anyone realized what he'd done.
Shit, he didn't even know what he'd just done.
"Oliver," his father said, looking at him measuredly.
"Sorry, I'm fine, just a migraine," he quickly fibbed, shaking it off with a smile and small nod of the head. "Please continue," he directed with a nod, choosing to tune them out as they began diving in about the cinematics of Overwatch.
Overwatch
He took his pen from his inner pocket, discretely writing it on the side of random paper and folding it over. He would look into whatever that was later. That or he could ask now.
"I'd like to come by the laboratory and see the progress for myself if you don't mind." Oliver interrupted, his head tilted in question, not missing the subtle hesitation of the Director, nor the way his eyes skirted to his father first for permission. A question? Oliver didn't know, but he didn't like it.
Now he really wanted to go to that lab.
"Of course! We can tour it together soon," his father said before the Director could answer.
Curtis slipped into the room at this moment, sliding up to Oliver and passing a memo to him.
It was blank, but no one here knew that.
It was his standard protocol.
"I'll need to take care of this," Oliver gestured with the memo, standing swiftly not waiting for his father's approval. He knew from this point on it was just the standard water-cooler talk, and Oliver had other things to do today.
He walked to the end of the hall and slipped into his cabinet. It was in the back corner, per his request. He knew he had to be on this floor but he'd be as far from all the politics for as long as he could. Besides, he had some bank records to look over. He walked to the massive oak desk and around to the large forest green chair in grand display before his laptop. He sat with a little more irritation than totally professional, and swung his chair around, facing towards the closed door and seeing the silhouette of his ever faithful bodyguard Diggle.
With a sigh he reached forward and booted his laptop on. It came on quickly and just as quickly freezes.
Oliver stared at the machine for a moment, pressing the power button and forcing it off before powering it back on.
He felt his irritation tick as it takes longer than it should to re-boot.
It seemed that nothing could go his way on his day back. He sighed deeply and sat back in his chair, watching the slow progress of the screen in front of him.
The screen flicked before going black and the master command opened on his computer.
"What the hell," he mumbled under his breath, leaning forward and watching his computer intently now. It was almost as if it was running in fast-forward, flipping erratically through command prompt after command prompt until finally the screen went black and three haunting white words stared back at him.
Don't trust them
He jumped from the computer like it had burnt him, feeling the spike of adrenaline honing his senses to a sharp point.
He must have toppled his chair and crashed it into something because the next second Diggle was through his previously closed door surveying the area with a tactical edge, his gun at the ready in case the crash was from something else. Oliver could feel the man's eyes on his face, but he wasn't ready to look away from the screen.
What had just happened?
Trust who?
With these questions reeling through his head he quickly realized a real answer, he'd been hacked! That supposed to be impossible on his computer as well as every royal computer, and for good reasons.
For reasons like this.
Someone was playing mind games with him.
Anger quickly replaced his foreboding dread. Anger was always easier to handle.
Oliver reached over and swiftly slammed the computer shut, picking it up like it was garbage and walking towards Diggle, outstretching his hand towards the man with a tense, "someone hacked me!"
Diggle holstered his gun and stood straighter, arching a brow at the angry Queen in front of him.
"I'm sorry sir?" He asked him.
Oliver shook the laptop like it offended him.
"Someone hacked into my computer! Take it and do a security check on it," he finished more professionally, gesturing towards the laptop held out to the man.
In the next second the air had changed.
Oliver could feel it again as he watched Diggle look from his outreached hand and then his own. For a second longer Diggle just stared at him before slowly reaching out, and taking a hold of the machine by the opposite corner, his eyes saying something Oliver couldn't hear.
In a blink, the second was gone, and Oliver felt the laptop leave his fingers as Diggle swiftly agreed. He turned and left his office just as abruptly as he'd entered.
Oliver stared at his hand, still hovering where it was previously holding the laptop, that unknown knot forming in his stomach again.
What was going on?
He could feel the beginning pressure of a real headache starting up behind his eyes.
Maybe it was time for him to really go see a doctor.