They weren't on the road for even two minutes when she decided this would be the longest ride of her life. She had pulled her phone out of her purse to check her messages, and Oliver promptly ripped the phone out of her hand. She squeaked in shock as he pulled off the back of her phone and popped out both the battery and the sim card before pocketing everything.

"What the hell, Oliver," she whispered, mindful of Connor in the back seat.

"No electronics," he whispered back.

"What if John tries to call?"

He didn't answer her question.

She crossed her arms in a huff and turned her body away from him. She understood his need to protect his family but the emotional blackout was really getting to her. At this point, any news of their friends would be welcome, even if it was bad news. The only thing she couldn't deal with was not knowing. Oliver knew that about her, too, which made his silence even more aggravating.

"Are they at least alive?" she whispered.

She was met with stony silence. His face gave nothing away, but his refusal to answer put a pit in her stomach. If they were alive, he would have been quick to reassure her, not wanting her to worry. If they weren't…

She swallowed the sob that wanted to escape her throat. She shut her eyes against the tears that wanted to fall. He wasn't going to say one way or the other, and she didn't need to jump to conclusions. Besides, there was a long list of people Oliver had thought was dead but turned out to be alive.

She took a deep breath to center herself. She couldn't afford to fall apart right now. Her boys needed her.

About a half hour into the drive, Oliver pulled into a small alley and stopped the car. She looked around the alley to figure out where they were. She saw a couple of rolling steel doors, the kind that storage facilities usually have. Next to one of them was a door with what looked like Russian lettering.

Bratva, she thought with a frown.

"I need your tablet," Oliver murmured, hand outstretched expectantly.

She glared at him. "To do what, exactly?"

He glared back at her. "Felicity." In other words, do-as-I-say-and-don't-ask-any-questions.

She reached into her bag without looking and thrust the tablet violently into his hands. They engaged in a hostile staring contest, communicating their displeasure with each other. He twitched his head toward Connor. She shook her head heatedly. Connor was currently entertaining himself with his Nintendo DS, and she wasn't about to take it away from him. Oliver's stare intensified, and his head pitched forward. She narrowed her eyes at him and pushed her head forward, getting in his face. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. She shook her head again.

"Connor," Oliver started, and she clapped her hand over his mouth. He batted her hand away. The glaring continued.

It's harmless, she mouthed at him.

No electronics, he mouthed back. He turned in his seat. "Connor, I'm gonna need your DS."

"Wait, I'm almost done with this board…"

"Connor."

"Dad!" Connor whined. "I'm so close!"

"CONNOR!"

Felicity and Connor looked at Oliver with shock. He rarely raised his voice to Connor, and only used his daddy voice when absolutely necessary. But this wasn't exactly his daddy voice. It was borderline out of control. Angry. Felicity's heart thudded in her chest. Connor wordlessly handed the DS over to his father, lips trembling, face pale. That made Felicity angry.

"There's no need to yell, Oliver," she murmured quietly.

Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, she saw her Oliver again, if only for a moment. He was looking at Connor with regret. He reached out his hand to touch his knee.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I shouldn't have lost my temper. Forgive me?"

Connor simply nodded.

He regarded his son for a moment, looking mournful. Then, as if a switch had turned off, his expression went neutral again. His eyes, devoid of any emotion, fell on Felicity for an instant before he turned around and got out of the car.

Felicity drew in a shaky breath. She looked back at Connor, and her heart broke at what she saw. His head was hanging, and she thought she could see tears on his cheek. She got out of the car to climb in next to him, and held him to her side, shushing and rocking as he wept.

"He's not mad at you," she reassured.

"Then why did he yell at me?" he cried softly.

"He's just scared right now. Sometimes, when people are scared, they get angry, because being angry feels easier than being scared."

Connor sniffled. "That doesn't make any sense."

Felicity huffed a laugh. "No, it doesn't."

She held him for a few minutes until he seemed calm. "Do you want to read a book?"

"No," he murmured dejectedly. "I just want to be left alone."

She sighed internally. Like father, like son. "Okay," she conceded, giving him one final tap on his shoulder before withdrawing.

She got out of the car to get back to the front seat, but considered her options. The door with the Russian lettering was partially glass, so if she tried to peek, chances were fair that she would get caught. And she really didn't want to test Oliver's patience right now. She looked at the entrance of the alley, wondering if she could get away with looking around for a phone, but she didn't want to stray too far from the car. Besides, this looked like a seedy neighborhood, and it had been easily a decade since she saw a payphone. She got back in the car with a sigh.

She had her car key, and the car had a radio. She could tune into a news station, on the off chance that she could learn something. With a quick glance at the door, she pulled out her keys and turned on the car just enough for the radio. She scrolled through the satellite stations until she found Starling City's news channel. What she heard made her bolt up in her seat with panic as she quickly turned down the volume to keep Connor from hearing anything.

"…just tuning in, the top two stories this afternoon have been about the bombing at Queen Consolidated, and the shocking revelation of the identity of Starling City's vigilante, Oliver Queen. Ten years ago Oliver Queen went missing and was presumed dead after the Queen's Gambit went down in the North China Sea…"

Felicity let out a sharp breath that she didn't realize she was holding. She pressed her ear up against the speaker on the dashboard, trying to absorb everything coming from the news channel. She grumbled with frustration as they didn't give her any meaningful information. They were talking about Oliver's history of being lost and then being rescued, followed up by the history of the Arrow's exploits. What she wanted to hear about was the explosion. Is that where her friends had been?

She had been so absorbed with the news that she yelped in surprise at the sound of Oliver's door opening. She looked at him guiltily, while he just raised an eyebrow at her. He punched the off button on the radio with his thumb before closing his door and starting the car. He drove slowly to the end of the alley, and then turned off the car, taking her keys with him.

Damn. Well, at least she knew something. She knew there was an explosion, which may or may not have involved her friends, and she knew that Oliver's secret was no longer a secret. That explained him wearing his leathers, which, she realized with a start, he was no longer wearing.

Her car door opened suddenly and she yelped, again. Oliver was looking down at her blankly. "I need you to move all our stuff to the other car while I wipe this one down for prints."

She nodded, a little too quickly, and got out. She looked at the other car that had suddenly appeared in the alley. It was an old, boxy sedan, which had clearly seen better days. It looked older than Oliver. Its front end was facing the entrance to the alley, so its back end was mere feet from their current car. It would make transferring their stuff easier.

She walked up to the trunk, trying to figure out how to open it. It didn't look like there were any buttons or keyholes. She walked up to the driver's side to see if there was a release lever, but there wasn't. What kind of car didn't have a trunk release?

"Felicity," Oliver called out to her. She turned around to see him standing by the trunk. He beckoned her over with one finger. She walked over and watched as he rotated the emblem out of the way to expose a keyhole. He handed her a key, which she took with a huff of embarrassment. Patronizing asshat.

"No need to call me names, Felicity," he said with an amused smirk.

"Damn, I said that out loud?"

He just quirked an eyebrow at her, and then turned toward their car. Their former car, she thought with a sigh.

As she started transferring their stuff, she heard Oliver talking softly with Connor, inviting him to help him. This surprised her, since she didn't think he would include him in these type of activities. Connor seemed to perk up at this olive branch that was being extended, and her boys set about the task of removing all evidence of their existence on the car.

He seemed to be in a slightly better mood, which both relieved and worried her. Relieved, because she preferred a less angry Oliver. Worried, because it was a mood swing, and those tended to get worse when he was stressed. And there was plenty to be stressed about. Especially considering…

She shut down that thought process quickly, and she could now empathize with Oliver distancing himself from his emotions. The mere possibility of everyone she loved being…her mind couldn't handle it. If she thought about it, she would fall apart, and that was something she couldn't do yet until they were safe.

Yeah, she understood where Oliver was coming from.

She had finished moving their things from the car except for one thing; his ever present trunk of island stuff. She decided to leave that to him, because it was heavy and bulky and there was no way she would be able to carry it by herself. She turned around to find Oliver removing the license plates from their car.

"The only thing left is your trunk," she told him, and he nodded. Now that she had nothing to do, and nothing but her thoughts to occupy her, she felt restless. She paced as she waited for Oliver. She checked and re-checked their luggage. She had no idea where they would end up; did she pack the right clothes for Connor? She was pretty sure Oliver had packed a gun somewhere. Would they be flying? How would they get past security? Well, considering he had just met with the Bratva, she had a feeling they weren't flying commercial. And, she also had a feeling they would be sticking with the Bratva connection throughout their getaway, which meant Russia.

"Great," she muttered. "My favorite place."

"What?" Oliver asked.

"Nothing," she dismissed him quickly. "Just talking to myself."

If they were going to Russia, how long would they be staying there? Just until the threat had passed? And how long would that be? If everyone was…who was left to fight? A.R.G.U.S. maybe…

A spark of hope bloomed in her heart. Maybe A.R.G.U.S. was already fighting. Maybe A.R.G.U.S. had been keeping an eye on all of them, and maybe A.R.G.U.S. got to their friends in time. They had already proven that they would protect their assets at all costs, and Team Arrow had become one of their assets over the past few years, since the first time they fought Slade.

She clung to that tiny ray of hope with all her might. She reminded herself that she didn't have all the facts, and neither did Oliver. They didn't know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, whether their friends had made it or not. So until she had definitive proof, until she saw their bodies with her own eyes, she would refuse to believe they were dead. It just wasn't an option.

Suddenly feeling much better about things, she stopped pacing and straightened her posture.

Oliver noticed the shift in her demeanor and looked up at her, tilting his head inquisitively.

Deciding to ignore his questioning look for now, she asked, "Is there anything else I can be doing right now?"

His eyes narrowed just the tiniest bit, knowing she was changing the subject on purpose, but he shook his head in reply. "We're almost done."

"Okay."

A couple of minutes later, everything was packed, and they all got into the beater car to continue their getaway.