Disclaimer: Not mine, et cetera. Duh.
Author's Note: The canon is... maddening, about the location of Central City vis-a-vis Starling. Like. I've seen maps that put Starling where Seattle is and Central in like, Missouri, which tracks in some ways, but the two cities share a prison. So... hmmm. Plus, Central appears to have ocean-access, so it can't be all the way in the middle ('center') of the US too. Plus, it's close enough to have reasonable rail connection even before the high speed train that was due to be built in S4 of Arrow, and god knows America has shit long distance cross-country rail service.
It's just... very unclear. So I've gone with the idea that Central City is just down the coast from Starling, relatively speaking, and they're in the same state. (Hence sharing a prison). This is of course, not necessarily canon or very true to the comics, but it is true for this fic.
I make several references to Marvel's comics and characters in this chapter. I've decided that for the purposes of this fic, Marvel Comics does indeed exist in-universe, and the MCU exists more or less as it did by this point IRL. DC comics and all that obviously never existed, in this 'verse, though presumably one of the other comics companies that Marvel and DC absorbed way back when is still around.
Thanks extended to the Lauriver Discord server for their assistance in a few thorny parts I had issues with here and there.
The Siege of Starling City
By Kylia
Chapter 8: Collector of the Impossible
Metahuman - Noun.
(Plural: Metahumans)
A human with an activated meta-gene.
See Also: Alien, Improved Human
Meta-gene - Noun
(Plural: Meta-Genes)
A rare genetic anomaly in some humans. Usually recessive. When a human who possesses the meta-gene is exposed to exotic particles that do not exist naturally in our physical reality, the meta-gene can become activated, turning its possessor into a metahuman. An activated meta-gene is dominant and will generally be passed on to any children. The meta-genes of the children of metahumans will usually activate on their own a few years after completing puberty.
-Retrieved from April 29th, 2057.
Wharf 17, Starling City
November 30th, 2013
Her police badge got her past security at the entrance, not that it was particularly rigorous. Starling Port was concerned with people stealing shipping crates or their containers, not one person in a small car.
Sara got out of her car as she drew close to the Wharf. Whatever Vanch had claimed, she didn't trust this wasn't just an elaborate plan to kill her. At least not enough to drive in and make a big target of herself.
Gun in hand, Sara slipped down the wharf, using the various equipment as cover. At the far end, right up near the water, was one lone figure. It looked male, seemed the right height to be Vanch. Making out the face, even allowing for the dark, was impossible because he was reading a newspaper.
Was he stupid enough to come alone? Sara furrowed her brow, ignoring that she too had come alone. She drew closer, but the final stretch was wide open. Nothing she could use to get closer. If he had a sniper, or... something...
"Now I'm guessing you didn't stand me up, Detective." A voice called out. Vanch's voice. His smarmy, smug, cheery tone set her teeth on edge. Every goddamn time. "So why don't you come out in the open? I promise, I'm here alone."
Sara looked around the back of the Crane. Vanch had lowered the newspaper and was standing, wide open, arms spread, making himself a pretty obvious target.
"I'm even unarmed. If you wanted, you could just shoot me and -" Sara stepped out from behind the crane, into his line of sight, her gun in a two hand grip as she leveled it at him. "Ah, there you are, Detective!" He said it like they were old friends seeing each other for the first time in a while. As she got closer, she could see the smirk on his face.
"Of course," he went on as Sara got closer, "if I'm dead then I can't deactivate the deadman's switch program that stops the video - you know, the video - from ending up exactly where I threatened it would. So... to shoot, or not to shoot, that is the question, hm?"
Sara stopped just out of arm's reach, even if he lunged. She kept her gun trained on him.
"Oh, come on, Detective, this won't be much fun if you just stand there quietly." Vanch tossed the paper he'd been reading at her feet. It was from the 28th. A picture of Laurel, from one of the Charity Gala's she'd helped organize while at NOVA, was on the cover. The headline was one she already knew: 'CHARITABLE FOUNDATION HEAD DEFENDS AGAINST HOME INVASION BY DRUG DEALER!'
Sara had arrived at Oliver's apartment mere minutes after the cops that had been called in by the shooting. Laurel was already giving a statement, and-
Even as wrecked as Laurel had been, she'd been able to spin what she'd said. Sara supposed on some level she should be bothered how easily her sister could lie, even when she was barely functioning. But it wasn't that much of a lie, really, right?
Self-defense. Laurel had reacted on instinct and when the Count had gotten too close, she'd stabbed him, she'd been too terrified and high on adrenaline to realize how many times... with a few tears, gasps and broken sentences as she seemed to obviously be in shock, the cops had bought self-defense, that neither Laurel nor Oliver knew why the Count had come for them.
The public had responded by celebrating her, mostly. The Count was a menace, nobody could deny he'd been the guilty party there, and she'd just defended herself and the man she loved. Even if the DA's office hadn't bought her story, they'd have faced an uphill battle. Especially with the egg on their face after Mrs. Queen's trial.
"Admiring your handiwork?"
"I think it was more your sister's handiwork, but yes, I suppose I'm proud of the role I played in setting this all up. What's really interesting to me is the headline. I expected something like 'Billionaire's Girlfriend defends against home invasion', or something like that." He laughed, "You know, that's a pretty typical thing, in the media, defining women by their men. But I suppose she's made quite the name for herself in charity work."
"What the hell do you want, Vanch?" Sara demanded, already bored of his antics.
"I want a lot of things, but right now, what I want is a captive audience, and that, Detective, is exactly what you are." Vanch grinned, and pointed at her. "See, I did my research, when you put me away a second time. You're an interesting cop. In my experience, there's two kinds of police." He clasped his hands behind his back and walked back and forth along the edge of the wharf.
It would be so easy to just shove him into the water. But that was no guarantee he'd die, and then...
Deadman switch.
"There's the inflexible ones, who are dedicated to enforcing all the laws, even the stupid ones, snd there's the flexible ones, who know how to take a bribe and keep things going. Back in the glory days of the mob, the flexible cops ran the show. There's still enough of them kicking around. But you - you - Detective Lance, don't fit either category."
He pointed at her again as he said that, laughing incredulously, then he turned to look at her again.
Sara hadn't lowered the gun, but she couldn't keep her arms up, gun ready, finger inches from the trigger forever. Was that his plan? Talk her to death until she lowered the gun?
"You certainly believe in the law, and god knows you wouldn't take a bribe if I threw a million dollars in your face, but here you are, not taking me in for all my many, many crimes and helping people get away with murder."
"Self-defense," Sara snapped.
"Even if we ignore the way your sister absolutely butchered the Count, there's all of Mr. Queen's murders too, before he toned down on the killing. No statute of limitations there. And the thing is, having done my research, I can say for a certainty that you've kept a runny tally of all the laws you've broken helping them out." Vanch grinned.
256, depending on how you count. Sara didn't say it out loud, and she did her best to hold back any reaction to his accurate assumption.
"Really, Detective, no fun at all." He shook his head. "Fine, fine. All business." He clapped his hands together once, then went on, not losing the cheerful 'we're friends' tone at all. "Currently, in the SCPD evidence lockup, there's 2 kilos of heroin." He rattled off a case file number. "I'm going to need you to steal it for me.":
Sara blinked, staring at him. She lowered the gun, not even really realizing she was doing it.
"You're - you're an idiot." Sara squinted a little. Why in the - why would he ever think she'd do that for him. "I'm not stealing evidence for you."
"Why not? I'm sure you've done it for your vigilante friends at least once." Vanch made a face, as if he was hurt, "And here I thought we were friends." He burst into laughter, doubling over. "Your face-'' He managed to get out. He calmed down quickly, and this time, the cheery, friendly tone was all gone. In its place was flat, deadly intent.
"You'll steal that heroin because if you don't, then I release the video of your sister killing the Count to everyone. And sure, maybe, just maybe she gets off on self-defense even with the video," he conceded, shrugging. "And maybe the police and the FBI and everyone else in Law Enforcement don't take a second look at your sister, suspecting she's the Black Canary, that her boyfriend is the Arrow. But I can promise you that China White, Danny Brickwell, and every other criminal in this city that those two have pissed off won't worry about things like probable cause, or the prospect that maybe they're wrong in assuming based on that video."
He shook his head, "No, they'll just start trying to kill her. And trust me, most of them are smarter and more dangerous than the Count." He scoffed. "So... you have a choice, I guess. I mean, I'm not asking you to kill anyone, or even to cover up a crime. That heroin's been there for months, the case is closed, and it's due to be incinerated by the DEA soon anyway, soon as they get around to coming for it."
If I steal drugs for him, he has more to blackmail me with.
But did she have a choice? Until she could find out what sort of failsafe he had for making sure that video went out...
I don't have a choice. Laurel and Oliver couldn't get lucky every time, if they got attacked away from their gear time and time again. And that really did assume no one in the SCPD, or the FBI or any number of other agencies didn't get suspicious.
But... the threat of the evidence would hang over her forever, if she let it.
"And when does it end?" Sara asked. "I do this for you, and then what?"
"Well, and then I ask you for another favor, probably," Vanch confirmed her worst fears. "On the other hand, play ball, be a good girl-" Sara suppressed a shudder at the way he said that, his voice back to the usual smug tone, "and don't make waves, and I'll be happy to give you - and the vigilantes - all sorts of tips on how to deal with my rivals." He smirked, "I quite like the idea of having the Black Canary and Arrow at my beck and call."
"I won't use them to help you grow your criminal empire all over again," Sara countered, firmly. "There's limits to what you can force me into doing with that video."
"I'm not so sure, but I suppose it's true this early in the relationship," Vanch wagged a finger at her. "But, sure, you won't want to have them take out my rivals, but if I give you information on someone's hideout and the security there, you're not going to just do nothing and let them stay free on the street, will you?"
Sara inhaled slowly, gritting her teeth. He was... right. Somewhat. She wouldn't trust any information he gave her, but still. If it checked out, she couldn't just sit on it, right?
"And, as a bonus - at some point I'll even tell you who financed the Count's new operation and paid him to take out the Arrow and Black Canary." Vanch grinned and laughed with a wide-open mouth. "It's a real doozy, you know."
Vanch looked up at the stars, then back down at his watch. "Well, the ball's in your court now, Detective. Let's say... you have 72 hours to get me those drugs. I'll call you in 48 with the details on how to get them to me. You don't do that, and I'll assume you've decided to take your sister's chances for her."
Sara turned away, without saying anything, then turned back again. "One way or another, you're going to regret this. I promise you that."
"Oh, I'm sure you believe that now, but you know what I think, Detective? I think this could be the start of a beautiful relationship."
Snarling, Sara charged at him, punching him right in the jaw, and sending him reeling back - if she hadn't grabbed the collar of his shirt and held up on the Wharf, he'd have fallen back, into the water. She pulled him close.
"There's also a limit to how much you can provoke me before I do something, Vanch." She kicked one leg out from under him, then let go of his shirt, letting him fall backward into the water with a splash.
"There's the fighter!" Vanch called out after he came back to the surface, treading water. "This is gonna be fun!"
Robert Queen Applied Sciences Center, Starling City
December 1st, 2013
Well, that could have gone better. He'd thought his mother's acquittal meant he could hand over more of the CEO duties to her - she actually had something resembling a head for business, while Oliver still felt like he was treading water, at best. The Company's stock prices had improved, and it looked like they might be in the black for the next quarter, but...
Well, Oliver wasn't sure how much of that he could take credit for.
Instead, the Board's reaction to Moira Queen in their midst had been... mixed. A few old hands seemed receptive, and two had even greeted his mother warmly, with a handshake, her acquittal and the way public opinion had turned in her favor after the way the DA's office had screwed it all up...
But the rest had not. And Rochev had made it pretty clear she was not willing to 'be seen working with her'. Acquitted or not, a turn in public opinion or not, lots of people in Starling and outside of it still saw her as a murderer.
Oliver hated it, but he couldn't deny there was truth to it.
I should be in Central City right now, with Laurel. Laurel had left two days ago for Central to stay with her mother, to ground herself after killing the Count. She'd worked so hard to put that behind her, and...
It would be wrong to say Laurel was a wreck - not for more than fifteen minutes after the act, really. But she was off her game, and she knew it. Second-guessing herself, and her nightmares had been worse. She needed a breather, a chance to... take a second, gather herself. The plan had been for him to join her as soon as he'd arranged things for his absence here...
But then, as he'd been set to leave even after that mixed bag board meeting, he got word of what had happened at the Applied Sciences building. And now he had a robbery and dead security guards to deal with. If not for the murdered guards, Oliver would probably have just left this to the SCPD, and QC security, but...
The guards were his employees. His responsibility. Rochev wouldn't care - at best she'd not argue with the company's 'death on the job' life insurance policy for employees' families. At worst, she might still try to fight it.
And so, here he was.
As he walked into the building, he saw Sara arguing with another detective, while a few uniforms secured the scene.
"...this was a robbery. The murders were incidental to that." The other one said, concluding with a very smug look on his face. "And besides, your closeness to Oliver Queen means you should-" Oliver watched him, but before he could get closer and intervene, Sara cut in.
"Stay away from cases where he's the suspect. But do you have any reason to believe he's behind this?" Sara countered. The Detective shook his head. "And yes, normally, I'd say yes, please take the case off my hands, but one," she held up a finger, "the last time there was a robbery at a tech company - the Kord Industries case last year - the company threw up all sorts of red tape and just ended up paying the thief for their stuff back. I seem to remember Commissioner Nudocerdo ripping your boss a new one for that." The detective cleared his throat and looked away. "And two," she held up another finger, "Oliver doesn't have a very high opinion of the SCPD as a whole given the way the rest of you tried to railroad his mother through the courts so... in this case..."
"Fine, fine, take the case, it's yours!" The detective threw up his hands, "I've got better things to do anyway." He stormed out, and Sara approached.
"That door was made of titanium. Reinforced." Diggle gestured back to the bent metal on the ground. "Have you guys figured out how the robbers took this down?"
"Not yet," Sara said. She gestured to the metal, "No sign of explosives, so working theory now is a crane, or forklift. But how they got it in place, took down the door, came in, killed the guards and ripped out whatever was over there," she gestured to an empty patch of raised concrete, where something metal had once stood on a tripod, only bits of the legs remaining, "and got out fast. So it had to be a crew. Five people, maybe six? Impossible to say. The techs are pulling the security footage now."
"So that's the only thing missing?" Oliver looked at it, trying to remember what it was, from the two times he'd actually been inside the building. But he was drawing a complete blank.
"So far. We're about to go through the inventory, but that seems to be it." Sara nodded. She walked over to the bare concrete, and Oliver followed, Diggle by his side.
If Sara's on the case, then I don't have to worry about the SCPD not taking this seriously. With any luck, this wouldn't need the Arrow. Waking up without Laurel in the bed next to him, sleeping without her there, next to him...
It was...
Hard.
One of those techs approached, tablet in hand. "This is what we were able to pull off the security cameras." Oliver looked down at the screen, Sara and Diggle moving to get a look. One man, with a mask of some sort, tossing one of the guards like a rag doll, then picking up a metal crate, and tossing it at the camera.
Someone strong. Well, the guards had broken necks, so that checked. Probably the muscle of the crew, and the only one risking being seen by the cameras.
"Just him?" Sara asked, and the tech nodded. "So the rest must have come in afterwards. Again, this is a very efficient timeline." She shook her head, "A robbery crew this good coming into town - you'd expect someone to hear something. Far as I know, nothing."
"Actually, it probably was just the one guy," an unfamiliar voice said behind them, and from the look on Sara's face, she didn't recognize the voice either. He turned, and approaching them was a thin, almost gangly young man. He looked barely out of high school. "Sorry I'm late." He said, as if they all knew who he was. "Well, actually, my train was late." He corrected, then went on, babbling with what Oliver assumed was nerves, though it didn't seem to show on his face or in his posture. "Well, the second one. The first one I did miss but that was my cab driver's fault," he waved a hand dismissively. "I've got this great traffic app and -"
The young man took a breath and looked at everyone staring at him. "..but he thought he was right and..." he was quieter. "But I'm here now though."
"Okay, and why are you on my crime scene?" Sara demanded, coolly.
"And do your parents know that you're here?" Oliver added, before he could stop himself. Seriously, was he still in college, or just baby-faced?
"I'm Barry Allen, from the Central City Police Department?" He looked at Sara, and Oliver looked at her as well, but there was no sign of recognition. "...you mean my Captain didn't call you guys?"
"If he did, I didn't hear about it. What's CCPD doing here?" Sara asked. "You're about two hundred miles out of your jurisdiction,"
"One hundred and ninety seven," The young man - Barry Allen - corrected, then cleared his throat and pulled out an ID badge. "Sorry. I'm a CSI. We're working on a case with some similar unexplained elements in Central City, so when we got word about this one, I got the short straw to come down here and follow up."
Oliver wasn't an expert on the way police departments working together worked, but wouldn't they send an actual detective, not a CSI? Something seemed off about Allen's words. But not off in a way Oliver could understand. Allen was lying about something, but Oliver's gut didn't make it seem like he was up to anything. Which made no sense at all.
"Well, I'm sure we can sort that out in a minute," Sara nodded. "In the meantime - explain how you think one guy took down the door, took out both guards and carried whatever was there off all in the limited time between when the alarm went off and cops got here. You think he used the crane to break the door and then got out and did the rest all by himself?"
"I think he ripped the door down by hand, or with something a lot smaller than a crane," Allen countered. "Like I said, unexplained."
"You think someone ripped through that door," Diggle raised an eyebrow, "on their own. Queen Consolidated didn't skimp on the security for this building. Or the materials in the door."
"I'm sure they didn't," Allen said, and then he looked at Oliver, blinked, and "Oh - Mr. Queen. I- I didn't think the CEO would be here personally." Allen sounded surprised to see him in person. He cleared his throat, "I'm not saying there was anything wrong with the door, but -" He held up his own tablet, and brought up an image of one of the dead guards, the telltale marks around his neck of strangulation.
"It takes about 1,250 foot pounds of torque to break a neck." he turned the tablet around and gave them a closer look.
From this angle... Oliver furrowed his brow. He'd assumed their necks had been broken the usual way, hand on the chin and the back of the head, diagonal twist up-
But this... it was like someone grabbed him by the neck and just... snapped it. Like a pencil.
"But here... from the bruise patterns, it's like he broke their necks one-handed." He flipped to the other dead guard, same pattern. "I'm guessing you don't know how hard it is to break someone's neck like that?"
"I know it should basically be impossible if you're not the Incredible Hulk," Sara suggested.
"And there's this." He gestured back to the concrete, "Judging from what I've read about what this building was capable of - Popular Science did a whole feature on it last year - and the tripod... I think this was the Kord Enterprises 2BX-900 Industrial Centrifuge." He walked over to them, and Oliver frowned.
People with incredible strength existed. Oliver had run into a few. Snapping necks one-handed... it wasn't impossible. And the bruising pattern could be wrong.
"These weren't cut by bolt cutters, look, it's nowhere near smooth enough. And the cables were bent here, and here, like someone just ripped the centrifuge forward and off the concrete entirely," Allen explained. "On its own... I'd assume machine assistance, but with the necks? And especially here, look at the cracks heading towards the door. One set of footprints." Allen shook his head "No, this was one person. One... really strong person." He added at the very end, sounding like he knew it sounded insane. He hesitated, backtracking, "it's just a theory, but... it's backed by a lot of evidence."
Of course, was it actually insane? Oliver didn't know the science here, but... it seemed like this Barry Allen had a point...
Oliver stiffened.
No. It couldn't be.
There was no way.
"That... seems impossible," Sara shook her head.
"Like I said, similar unexplained elements." Allen repeated.
"Detective, a word?" Oliver asked Sara, and she followed him, away from the SCPD tech and Barry Allen, Diggle coming with them.
"You're not thinking he's right?" Diggle asked, voice a low murmur.
"I mean, it seems insane, but I did hear about a pit of magic water that makes someone live for centuries, and an earthquake machine nearly leveled the Glades, so..." Sara looked Oliver in the eye, raising an eyebrow.
"You know what this is?" Diggle asked.
"Do you remember when Laurel and I told you about the Island? About Dr. Ivo, and Slade Wilson?"
"...yeah." Sara growled, the hatred she felt for Ivo almost physically coming off of her as she said the word. Then she - "You said he was looking for some experimental super soldier drug Japan made in World War II. And..."
"But you said all the samples were destroyed when your friend-" Diggle frowned, correcting himself, "when Wilson died when you guys destroyed the Amazo."
"They were." Oliver confirmed. "But it's the only thing I've ever heard of that would let one person be that strong. I hope to hell I'm wrong." It felt like an understatement to say that. Allen could be wrong, or some... rogue body-builder turned criminal could be at work. Stranger things had happened.
It was impossible.
Besides, why would it turn up here? Now? Stealing a centrifuge from Queen Consolidated? Even if someone had found some other remnant of the Japanese project that Ivo missed...
Laurel was with him for months. If there's someone else who was looking, he might have-
Oliver shut down that train of thought immediately. He wasn't going to bother Laurel with this. Not without proof. She needed the time, time away from the mission. He wasn't going to take that from her on an impossible hunch.
"From what you said, it drove Wilson insane and made him damn-near unkillable." Diggle suggested, and Oliver nodded, slowly.
"It can't be Mirakuru, but... maybe someone developed something similar." Oliver reasoned. It made sense. Anyone could invent something, if it was possible. If Japan could make it with 1940s science, couldn't someone trying for the same goal make it now?
It made sense.
So why does it feel like I'm grasping at straws?
"Either way, I don't like the sound of it." Diggle murmured. "If it really is some super soldier guy, and not a crew, or just some... Andre the Giant type deal, then is SCPD really capable of handling him?"
"No... no they're not." Sara said, looking pale. "Not from the way you and Laurel described Slade. Even the little you said. We'd need multiple SWAT teams, and how would I even explain that to anyone?"
Oliver grimaced. She was right. "Is there any way you can play this close to the vest? Keep SCPD from getting too involved... if it turns out...?"
"I can do my best," Sara nodded. She headed back over to the tech, and Barry
"Well, Mr. Allen, since you're here, and the crime lab is always backed up with work, I might as well put you to work helping with this case." Sara said.
"I'd love to. Should I just go down and get started-"
"Detective, we can't just let someone access the crime lab without permission. There's paperwork, vetting..." the tech started. Sara raised an eyebrow at him, and he backtracked a little, even taking a step back as he went on: "I mean, I suppose since he works for CCPD we could get past most of that, but it's not just the people that are backed up, it's the machines too."
"Well, I mean, this building has all the equipment I'd need to run any analysis I'd need." Allen suggested. Then he cleared his throat, "Assuming that's okay with you, Mr. Queen," he added.
Convenient. Oliver was surprised the CSI was so happy to make the offer, but he nodded. "If it finds the company's stolen property faster, and more importantly, gets justice for the dead, I'm all for it."
"It's irregular, but it could work." Sara nodded after a moment. "Sure, let's go with that."
"I just need to connect my tablet to your systems so they have the right software to analyze any evidence here, or that comes up," Barry started. "I- I assume you don't want to just uh... you know, give me that access." He gestured, "Corporate secrets and all?"
"You assume right. I'll get someone from our IT department to come down and help you set things up." Oliver nodded. "In the meantime, I'll leave you and the Detective to it."
As he walked away, Oliver pulled out his phone and dialed Felicity's office.
"Hello?"
"Felicity. Do you have a busy schedule today?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary, apart from orientation for a new intern..." Felicity started, then she cleared her throat "...I'm gonna have to hand that off to someone else, won't I?" She sighed, "You know, if I keep handing tasks off, people are going to wonder how I got this promotion and keep this position."
"You'll have to find someone else to handle it, yes. I need you to come down to the Applied Sciences center and help Detective Lance."
"The dead security guards?"
"Yeah. It's an unusual case."
"Unusual. Of course." Felicity clearly got his meaning. "On it."
Robert Queen Applied Sciences Center, Starling City
December 1st, 2013
Despite the other city only being two hundred - no, sorry, 197, apparently - miles away from Starling, Sara didn't really know much about Central City. Even after her mother moved there, after the Gambit. Sara had visited her a few times, before things had gotten bad but only for a bit, and Sara didn't really take in the sights. And then things between her and her mom had soured a lot, and she'd stopped visiting entirely. At least now though there were tentative plans to spend Christmas with her on the table, now that they'd sort of reconciled, or started to.
Offhand, apart from the particle accelerator that kept popping up in the news, and all the research labs that set up there thanks to the city's generous tax breaks, the only thing Sara knew offhand was that the city had much less violent crime than Starling.
Well, that and it always seemed to have much clearer skies than Starling, for reasons that she could not understand.
But all that meant she really had no frame of reference for what the CCPD was like, or why he was here, or why he was so eager to do something so irregular as use the crime scene itself as his crime lab.
Well, you're letting him. Sara pointed out to herself. But she had the excuse of needing to keep this at a remove from the SCPD if it turned out there was a super soldier out and about to commit crimes in Starling City.
Sara, your life is a fucking comic book. She'd long since accepted that, but it bore repeating sometimes.
Something was off about Barry Allen, but if she pressed too hard, especially through official channels...
"Well," Sara said, looking over the inventory again, then gesturing for the uniforms who had helped with checking everything to head out, "it looks like the centrifuge was the only thing stolen."
"That seems odd, doesn't it?" Barry asked, looking up examining the ground around where the centrifuge had been. "I mean, millions of dollars worth of equipment here - some of it certainly more mobile. Even if I'm right, and we're dealing with one, really strong guy... why the centrifuge?"
"It's a good question," Sara nodded. "You're the scientist. What could you actually use a centrifuge for?"
Barry stood up, and pulled away, frowning. "A lot of things. There's all kinds of practical uses for a centrifuge, but nothing that would be very interesting to most criminals. It's all complex, involved processes, and anyone who needed one would buy one legitimately." He shook his head. "Unless someone was going to..." Barry laughed, "I don't know, try to sell this one to Iran or something, which would be absurd."
Sara felt like she was missing something here. "...why would someone want to sell a stolen centrifuge to Iran?"
Barry started her, blinked, then shook his head, "Sorry, I-" He cleared his throat. "One of the best ways to enrich uranium for any use - nuclear power or..." he moved one hand in a repeating circle for a moment, in a 'you know' gesture, "weapons is to run the uranium through a series of centrifuges. But the Kord Enterprises 2BX-900 Industrial Centrifuge would be absolutely terrible for that job. I mean, it's not rated for handling Uranium safely, and I'm not even sure it would do all that good of a job of it anyway. It would be like trying to..." he paused, groping for the right words with one hand. "I'm not sure what the analogy would be, but any rogue government's nuclear program would have people that would know it wouldn't work."
Sara was trying very hard not to freak out at what the CSI was saying. He'd basically just casually dropped that this could be some crank trying to make a nuke at home-
"And you didn't think it was relevant to mention - I mean, this could be a domestic terrorism-" Sara started, reaching for her phone, but Barry shook his head, waving his hands in a 'no' getsure as he did, speaking quickly.
"Oh, no - no... I mean, even if some militia group or something was trying to... you'd need a whole lot of centrifuges, and huge amounts of power, not to mention enough uranium...I mean, statistically speaking, the odds would be much more in favor of a terrorist making a dirty bomb, if they could actually get their hands on uranium in the first place, but I mean..." Barry shook his head.
"There's almost no chance of it being part of some sort of attack," he concluded, confidently.
"No chance of what being part of some sort of attack?" Felicity asked.
"No chance of a nuclear attack thanks to the stolen centrifuge, apparently," Sara explained.
"Well... yeah, obviously. The Kord Enterprises 2BX-900 Industrial Centrifuge wouldn't work for that at all." Felicity shrugged.
"That's what I told the Detective!" Barry explained. Then he blinked, looking at Felicity. "I - are you here to help me get set up for the-" he asked quickly, gesturing to his gear he'd set up on a table next to a bank of computers.
"I am. Felicity Smoak, Head of the IT department at QC in Starling." She held out a hand.
Barry accepted it, "Barry. Barry Allen. CSI." He held onto her hand for a moment too long, then let go, clearing his throat. "Should we - should we get started?"
"Good idea. This isn't exactly my normal job, so... I have no idea how long this will take." Felicity followed him over to the computers, and the two of them started talking some rapid-fire tech-speak that Sara quickly lost all hope of following.
Sara quickly found herself wishing she had a magazine as they started running programs and installing drivers or whatever they were doing. Sara knew enough about computers to do the basic troubleshooting and run a virus scanner and stuff like that, and that was about it. The two seemed to be getting along well, assuming she was following the tone of their conversation properly.
After what felt like hours, but what the clock on her phone insisted was only twenty minutes, they stepped back away from the computer.
"So now it just has to finish syncing with your analysis programs, which shouldn't take too long, and then it's set," Felicity said. She leaned back in her chair. "Sounds like you've done this a lot."
Barry shrugged, "Any time my department has a case in another jurisdiction that seems similar to one of ours, they send me down to - you know, take a lot. So I'm making use of other department's labs a lot. Just never used a major tech company's."
Wouldn't they send a detective? Sara had never drawn the short straw for that, but when the SCPD needed to liaise with another jurisdiction over a related crime or something - Bludhaven, a lot - they sent a detective. Her dad had done that now and again.
Maybe CCPD did things differently...
Her gut didn't say Barry was... well, up to anything nefarious, but her gut wasn't perfect. But on the other hand, she couldn't poke too hard, because if Barry wasn't here on official CCPD business, but still wasn't hiding something then there went her ability to have faster testing results from the lab at a remove from the rest of the SCPD.
After a moment, Sara fired off a quick text to Diggle. He had to have a former army buddy or something like that that could do some checking into Barry Allen and whatever CCPD had going that was similar, quietly. Just in case.
I mean, Central City does have all those labs, so maybe the super-soldier was made there?
"Can I ask a question?" Barry's voice drew her away from her phone as she hit 'send' on the text, but Barry was looking at Felicity. The hacker nodded after a moment. "You're the head of IT at the headquarters for the company, and you're down here helping me set these up for my investigation? Isn't that - I mean shouldn't you have more important things to do?"
Sara watched Felicity shrug, "I should, but Oliver trusts me, and so when something sensitive comes up involving our computer systems, he likes to have me handle it myself."
Barry laughed, a little incredulously, "You're on a first name basis with Oliver Queen?"
Felicity rolled her eyes, "He's less impressive when he uses you as his personal tech support for a year, but I suppose my ability to recover his data no matter what he did to his laptops impressed him enough to get the promotion, so it was worth it." She shook her head, "Seriously though, the man is a menace to any computer he gets his hands on. Spilled coffee on more than one, broke another by closing it too hard, got another one so full of malware I was tempted to send the thing to Chernobyl to quarantine it," she listed off several more things, none of which Sara quite understood, but from the look on Barry's face, he did understand the tech jargon.
Well, as excuses for why she's involved here, that makes sense. Sara considered. Perhaps not the most flattering to Oliver, but convincing. Had Oliver come up with it, or was it passive-aggressiveness on Felicity's part, quiet revenge for all the times Oliver used her for his work (with what were obvious lies) before bringing her onto the team?
Felicity was at one of the other computers while Barry focused on the one Felicity had set him up at. Sara's phone buzzed and she frowned. Was Dig getting back to her-
From Felicity? 'Traffic cam footage'. Attachment. Then she realized what it was. Felicity must have pulled the footage - no need to wait for official channels to request it - and found it. One guy, carrying...
Okay, so one more point for the freakishly strong guy theory. Definitely not a crew.
"Barry," Sara walked over towards him. "I just got sent this traffic cam footage. Across the street, three minutes after the robbery. Is this our centrifuge?" She didn't let him see that the video had been sent from Felicity, not from someone else at SCPD pulling it up and sending it.
Barry watched the video, then nodded. "Yeah. And one guy."
"Looks like you were right." Sara acknowledged, and Barry laughed a little, then cleared his throat after Sara raised an eyebrow.
"Right. If it hadn't been raining so hard at the time, I'd say we could check for trace evidence left by the truck, but..." Barry trailed off. "I don't think that'll work in this case, Detective Lance. I'm about to run the analysis on anything our thief might have tracked in on his boots though?"
"Good. Let me know if you find any-"
"Wait. Detective Lance. You're Detective Sara Lance! You - your sister got kidnapped by Cyvus Vanch in March."
"Yeah..." Sara narrowed her eyes. That wasn't exactly major news. Sure it had come up in Vanch's second trial but -
"I - the Arrow helped you rescue her." Barry went on, seemingly missing her careful, cautious tone. He cleared his throat. "I - that means you've met him. Face to face."
Great. A vigilante fanboy. Maybe that's why he's here? Get a chance to see the local vigilantes in person? In principle, Sara agreed that Oliver and Laurel had accomplished a lot, and were worthy of the praise, but in practice, she'd run into more than a few people who took the idea of being fans of the Arrow and the Black Canary way too far. "Well, more like I helped him. It was stupid of me, but when a sociopath kidnaps your sister, you're allowed to be a little stupid." She shook her head, "IA nearly had my badge over that. But yeah, I did see him, but just the green hood."
"Well, see, green, that's an interesting choice!" Barry started, "In an urban environment, you'd think black, or dark gray would be the better choice for stealth or camouflage." He went on, with several correct theories - that the Arrow had trained in a forest environment (which, from what Sara knew about the Island) and the Black Canary had originally trained on more lethal weapons than her tonfas. And his theory they had partners behind the scenes, including someone with a lot of computer science skills.
Also true. Though his comment about carbon-aluminum composite was worth filing away. She wouldn't tell Oliver how to make his arrows, but it could be Oliver just didn't know metallurgy enough to know. God knows Sara hadn't known that was a thing.
Sara and Felicity both tried to affect disinterest, before Felicity asked why he was so interested in the vigilantes, which had led to him telling them about his mother, murdered when he was eleven, and how they never caught the guy.
Well, as reasons to be interested in vigilantes go, I've heard worse. At least Laurel and Oliver weren't inspiring Barry Allen to try and put on a mask of his own or something. Oliver had hated the idea of those copycat 'Hoods', and Laurel wanted to inspire people into helping save their city in all the little ways she couldn't, rather than make more masked vigilantes running around. In the end, you could only solve so many problems by beating up criminals.
The solemn moment was broken from Barry's computer beeping. He looked at it, frowning. "Well... that's weird."
"You found something in the footprints?"
"Yeah. Sugar."
"Sugar?"
"Well, there's a sugar refinery not too far away," Sara considered. "That could mean he's spent time there. Maybe he works there, or..." Then she pulled out her phone again and looked at the traffic cam footage again. The truck. She couldn't get a great look at the logo, but didn't that word look like the back end of 'sugar'?
Furrowing her brow, she checked a recent app the department had set up, to check crime reports all over the city that got added to the database at SCPD.
"Well, it looks like the sugar refinery got one of their delivery trucks stolen, and this," she brought up the logo of the company, showed it to them, and then switched back to the traffic cam footage. "Looks like the same logo," she added. "Good work," she nodded to Barry. With the crime lab as backed up as it was, that could have taken days.
Sara didn't have the kind of pull to demand a rush job.
"I'll call this in. You keep looking for more evidence in what we have, and stay on hand in case... I dunno, our perp ditches the truck." Sara told Barry.
"Right." Barry nodded, and Sara moved away, calling Oliver and speaking quietly as she filled him in on the latest developments. That done, she hung up and turned, keeping an eye on Barry for the moment. Though, from the way Felicity and Barry were leaning in close, looking at a computer screen and talking quickly, Felicity had plenty of reason to keep an eye on him.
Okay... yeah, I'll admit it, they'd make a cute couple, Sara suppressed a giggle at the sight of them. It was like both of them were trying not to flirt, but couldn't help doing it, just a little.
Streets of Starling
December 1st, 2013
The second Sara told him that the truck used in the robbery from Applied Sciences was involved in stealing from a blood bank, Oliver knew he should call Laurel.
He didn't.
She needed the time, they'd just spoken that morning, Laurel wanted to come back and knew she couldn't yet, and Oliver couldn't take that from her.
Not without proof that this was Mirakuru, that someone had either developed the serum anew, or... someone, somehow, had picked up where Ivo had left off.
And Oliver didn't have that proof.
Yes, Oliver couldn't think of any other reason, short of Diggle's 'I hope I'm joking' suggestion of vampirism, that a freakishly strong person would steal vast quantities of blood right after stealing an industrial centrifuge. Something that could be used to prepare said blood to be the final component to Mirakuru.
But technically, another explanation could exist, right?
Bullshit.
But there had to be another one.
Because there was no way someone had picked up where Ivo had left off. Slade was dead. Ivo was dead. His test subjects were dead. All the Mirakuru on the island, destroyed.
And the odds of someone just stumbling on the serum, on their own?
So there had to be another explanation.
That mantra kept running through his head as he gunned it on the motorcycle. He was nearly there - he turned down a street and then onto another one. He saw it - the Simmons Sugar Refinery truck just ahead.
He drew close as they hit the underpass, Oliver sped up, moving to the side, trying to get up alongside - nearly there...
With a screech, the car pushed to the side, Oliver killing his speed for a moment so he didn't slam into the truck... he moved, other side, and the car moved again, just enough to get in the way, nearly making him crash right into it.
We'll see about that... Oliver moved to the side, as the truck started to compensate again, He let go of the bike's handles just long enough to notch and fire an arrow into the rearview mirror, shattering it.
Up and forward, alongside -
No door.
The entire driver's side door had been ripped off, cleanly.
Mirakuru. Oliver swallowed.
Locking the motorcycle into its acceleration, Oliver leapt, grabbing onto the top of the truck by the tips of his fingers, clinging - clinging - pressing his feet against the truck, he pushed, jumping to the side, hitting the cab of the truck, grabbing the top.
The driver wore a mask that covered his face and eyes, completely. Oliver kicked once, twice, right in the jaw - no effect.
The word 'Mirakuru' barely had a chance to run through his mind again as the driver pulled a hand off the wheel and punched - the fist caught on his stomach, and Oliver felt all the air leave him as he fell back, holding onto the open doorway for dear life, dropping dangerously close to the road, nearly dragging along-
Oliver grabbed back on, leveraging himself up, punching just needed to get the driver off the wheel... Once, twice, three times.
The third punch actually looked like he felt it as his head moved to the side, he seemed to pause a moment - Oliver's hand reverberated with every punch -
And then, before Oliver realized what was happening, he was away from the door, on the hood of the car, and the driver had punched through the glass. Oliver tried to grab at the hand as it tugged him into through the broken windshield, glass scraping at his arms and shoulders, none of it sharp enough to break the skin through his outfit-
Oliver slammed into the passenger seat, wind knocked out of him for a split second. Oliver grabbed an arrow from his quiver and, holding it at the base of the head, stabbed it into the driver's leg.
Holding the arrow in place, Oliver reached for another arrow - if he could just get it-
The driver punched into his ribs, once, twice, Oliver could almost feel his bones cracking under the force as he was thrown back, his grip on the arrow not releasing, tagging the whole thing with him as he was pushed into the remaining door, back hitting it with enough force to break it from the truck entirely-
It hit the street, sparks flying as it slide across and away from the truck as it sped off, protecting him from having the skin of his back ripped off by sliding across the pavement at this pace-
Oliver's whole body exploded with pain as he slammed into something solid, but at least with some give. It took him a moment to realize he'd slammed into a pile of trash bags next to a trash can.
Breathing hurt, his back hurt, his chest, his head-
Nothing felt broken, at least not completely, but with adrenaline still pumping, Oliver couldn't be sure.
Mirakuru.
There was no denying it now. The force of those blows, the contemptuous ease behind them, the way kids and punches right to the face had almost no effect, the difficulty in actually getting deep into the driver's leg with the arrow...
Oliver knew exactly what it was. He'd seen it, felt it before.
Mirakuru. He didn't know who, he didn't know how...
It was Mirakuru. And there's almost no chance someone just... accidentally reinvented it.
He couldn't pretend. Somehow, some way, some scrap of it must have survived on the island. Maybe there'd been more in the sub they'd missed? Maybe Slade had hidden a sample away, before -
Before you killed -
Wait.
Mirakuru.
Almost as if his mind came to a screeching halt, it hit Oliver: The driver had been very much sane, with a specific focus and task, not to mention very much alive. For that to be the case, he had to have been hit with a strong sedative right after the Mirakuru...
Oliver looked down at the deformed arrow in his hand, covered in blood halfway up the shaft, and even a few bits of flesh stuck to it.
If there were traces of the sedative in his blood...
Then they could figure out what he had access to, and trace him.
All Oliver needed to do was get the drop on the driver. I beat Slade. I've learned so much more about fighting since then. Three more years of hell on the island, and a year and a half of being the Arrow.
He could do this.
The Foundry, Starling City
December 1st, 2013
"Ow!" Oliver's hands were balled into fists and he barely managed to avoid pulling away entirely as Sara applied the tape to his ribs.
"Oh calm down," Sara countered. "And stay still," she added as she finished up, stepping back. "There."
"Thanks," Oliver tugged a hoodie on carefully. "It was Mirakuru," he added. Saying it aloud made it seem more real, even after he had received very real, very physical proof of it. After calling Diggle to bring a car and meet him - the motorcycle was trashed - the first thing Oliver had done was call Laurel. She needed to know that somehow, some way, Mirakuru was back, and here, in Starling.
But his call had gone to voicemail immediately - Laurel must have turned her phone off. He left a message, but he had only been able to be so specific, mentioning only something important involving 'a miracle' had happened.
"Mirakuru?" Felicity looked away from the computers, where she'd been trying to backtrack through the traffic cams to trace where the truck had gone. "Japanese for 'miracle'?"
"Yeah," Oliver sat up, biting back a groan. Felicity hadn't been there for the explanation Laurel and he had given Sara and Diggle. "It was an attempt by the Japanese in World War II to make super soldiers. The submarine carrying it ran aground on the Island during the war... Laurel and I destroyed all the samples, there shouldn't have been any trace of it. But..." he shook his head. "Clearly some survived, either there or... or somewhere else."
"Super soldiers." Felicity laughed, a somewhat frantic, higher pitch. "No wonder you couldn't stop him. Now we have evil Captain America running all over the city." She laughed again, "I'm really starting to regret moving to Starling after college."
"I beat someone enhanced with Mirakuru before," Oliver assured her, assured Sara and Diggle, both of whom seemed worried - though perhaps not as much as Felicity. They know how to fight back, shoot a gun, get away... Oliver made a mental note to suggest that Sara and Laurel show Felicity some moves, something she could use to get away. She was working with them, she could end up in danger, if someone tracked them to the base, or realized Felicity was helping them...
Really should have thought of that sooner.
"How?" Diggle countered, gesturing to the bloody arrow on the table next to him. "I mean, look at the way just stabbing him in the leg bent that arrow. Somehow, I don't think shooting him in the legs and shoulders is gonna stop him."
"Enough shots would," Oliver disagreed. Then he let out a breath, "You're right. It won't be easy. But taking on someone stronger than you in hand to hand never is. Fortunately... if we can figure out where he's hiding, or where he's going, I can get the drop on him, take him out at range." He'd have to target the head, the eye, the neck... all places he'd have the best chance to either kill... or do enough damage to leave him in serious risk of dying...
At least if they got too close. If he could attack from enough distance, Oliver knew he'd be able to fire enough arrows, fast enough to slow him down,take him out without as much chance of him dying...
But it's not like someone like this can be held in a prison cell. Dr. Ivo's cure... Oliver couldn't even begin to imagine who he could trust to try to make that. Where would someone even start?
"Which," he went on, picking up the clean part of the arrow carefully, "is where this comes in. In order for Mirakuru to work properly, someone dosed with it has to be hit with a strong sedative. Otherwise... assuming they don't die, they're insane."
Sara took the arrow gingerly. "If we can figure out which sedative they're using..."
"We can figure out where the next robbery will be, or where they already stole it from." Diggle finished. Sara pulled an evidence bag out of her pocket, opening it up and putting it over the bloody part of the arrow. It wasn't big enough to hold all of it, but...
"I'll get this to Barry." Sara nodded.
"I'll take it to him," Felicity volunteered quickly. She cleared her throat. "There's not much I can do here, I can't figure out where the truck is now. I might as well do something else productive with my time."
"Sure. Be careful with it," Sara handed it to Felicity, who grimaced, even looking a little sick at the sight of all the blood on it, and being so close to it. Despite that, she took it, grabbing her things with her free hand and heading out the side exit, so no club goers saw her carrying a blood-covered green arrow.
Once she was gone, Oliver looked at them. "That's... not normal for Felicity."
"No, but I'm pretty sure she just wanted the excuse to hang with Barry a bit more," Sara suggested. Oliver looked at her, eyebrow raised. "I think she has a bit of a crush. Which, I get. Barry's cute, in a tall, lanky nerd sort of way." She laughed. "Felicity doesn't have much more of a social life than the rest of us. Barry seems a lot like her, I suppose it tracks."
"About that..." Diggle hesitated, then, "I heard back from my buddy in Central. About Barry." Oliver narrowed his eyes, looking at him, then back to Sara.
"Why didn't you tell me you were suspicious of Barry?" Oliver bit his tongue a moment, inhaling. Something had been... off, or odd, or strange about the CSI.
"Because it wasn't serious." Sara shook her head. "Or at least, it didn't seem like it was." She frowned. "Just some things that didn't seem to make a lot of sense. But it was easier to have him do the tests then try to get a backed up crime lab to leap my case to the front of the line. For my case, and yours." Sara emphasized.
Oliver inhaled again, clenching his jaw, then looked to Diggle. "Do we have anything to be worried about?"
"Maybe not," Diggle allowed, before explaining what he'd learned about one Bartholomew Henry Allen.
Robert Queen Applied Sciences Center, Starling City
December 1st, 2013
It had taken some doing, but Sara had talked Oliver out of kicking Barry off this investigation entirely. Yes, fine, he'd lied about why he was here, technically, and Sara intended to ask him about that, but assuming his answer was satisfactory... Sara was content to let him finish out this investigation. It was... maybe not the most cautious move, but it was hardly a bad one. Oliver had given her a 'this is on your head' look, which, fine.
If this all goes wrong, sure, I'll take the blame.
If nothing else, this case was giving her something else to focus on than the deadline Vanch had given her for stealing the heroin. I still have two days. Sara had time to try to find... some other solution. Or...
She shook her head and stepped inside the building, walking towards where Felicity and Barry were. It looked like they were already testing the blood. The machine they were standing by looked like the one the crime lab used, anyway.
Just more expensive, and newer.
"...while we wait for that..." Felicity started. "There was - I wanted to ask you." She paused, flushing, and Sara stood back, arms crossed, watching them talk. "See, I have this invitation." She explained, fidgeting. "Since I'm a Department Head, it's a work function..." she let out a breath. "It's a party. Tomorrow."
There's a party tomorrow? Oh, right, Moira Queen's party. Thea had mentioned it. Also mentioned how she thought it wasn't a great idea, same with her mom, but Oliver had been insistent, and there it was.
She did get off, and the public was at least sympathetic after what Quinn pulled - still kind of surprised the DA didn't fire him completely - but... still. It seemed a bad idea to Sara too.
"And... I have a plus one." Felicity added. With Barry facing Felicity, his back to her, Sara couldn't see the man's expression. It seemed like he was into her too, but... "And - well... I mean, if you're gonna still be in town tomorrow, I thought - I thought you'd make a good one. A good plus one, I mean." She flushed more, cheeks red. "If - if you're interested, anyway."
"I- that sounds like fun." Barry said, laughing softly, sounding like he was smiling. Then, "There's not gonna be dancing, is there?" He asked, concerned. "I - I'm just not too good on my feet."
"There might be a little, but we don't have to dance," Felicity offered. "It'll be a chance to have some fancy food on Oliver's dime."
"I've been to Queen parties, for the company and the family. They always have excellent catering," Sara added, walking towards them again. She gave Felicity a thumbs up and a smile, before Barry turned to face her as well. "How goes the blood sample testing?"
"It's running now." Barry explained. "So - the Arrow is working this case too?"
"So it would seem, yeah." Sara nodded, shrugging. "It's a hazard of law enforcement in this town. Unless you're working the really boring homicides - you know, Jack shot Bill over Jill," she quoted an old saying, referencing the very straight forward domestic crimes. "Then there's a good chance the Arrow or Black Canary is going to get involved at some point."
"Still, and he just left the arrow behind?"
"Well, I'm guessing our killer ripped it out and dropped it, but yeah," Sara demurred. "How long until you figure out what sedative he has in his system?"
"It's hard to say, it depends on how long it's been in his bloodstream. And what sedative. Some metabolize faster than others... it's possible it might all be gone by now, but hopefully not." Barry equivocated. He paused, then, "Why are we looking for a sedative? Do you know how-"
"Better question:," Sara interrupted, "did this plan of yours really assume no one at SCPD would call your Captain and figure out you weren't here on a 'similar' case?"
Felicity's head snapped up and she looked at Sara, then at Barry. Barry's expression fell.
"Barry? What is she talking about?"
"I-" Barry started, then swallowed. "I..." he looked at the ground, one foot grinding into the concrete floor. "You'd be surprised how often people don't," Barry admitted. "Call CCPD and check, I mean."
"Well, I didn't either," Sara admitted, watching him look at her quickly, eyes wide, mouth open, "I did some checking because I was curious why you suggested using the equipment here. And why a CSI would be sent to look into a similar case, rather than a detective. But as far as your Captain knows, whatever excuse you gave for not being at work is still valid."
"Food poisoning," Barry offered, swallowing.
"You lied? Why - why did you even come here?" Felicity asked, the hurt obvious in the way she glared at him, hands clenched at her sides.
"Good question." Sara asked, raising an eyebrow pointedly, carefully. Barry said nothing for a long moment, Sara staring at him, and finally, he broke first.
"I told you, about how my mom was murdered, when I was eleven." His voice was quiet. "And that they never caught the killer." He inhaled, slowly, swallowing. "The thing is... the police - they think they did."
Sara folded her arms in front of her chest as Barry went on.
"They arrested my dad for it..." He looked at Felicity, then Sara, eyes wide, earnest. "You have to understand: He didn't kill her!"
Easy thing for someone to pretend to themselves... Sara considered, lips pursed. "What makes you so sure?" She had to assume he was getting to a point about why he was here.
"Because I saw it. The police didn't believe me. Just some kid, lying to protect his dad." Barry scoffed. "Or traumatized, imagined things. That night... something just came into our house. It was... it was like a tornado. A blur of yellow... but... there was a person. Like they were moving fast - impossibly fast. Who - or what... my dad went to fight it. I tried to run towards him, get to my mom... and suddenly I was twenty blocks away from our house. In the blink of an eye."
What the hell? Sara's first thought was the obvious one - the one he acknowledged. Some kid, imagining things. Lying to cover for his dad.
Her second...
Again. My life is a comic book. Her sister was a masked vigilante. There was a man with a magical fountain-of-youth type deal called the Lazarus Pit, a name right out of cheesy science fiction. And she was currently investigating a case of an honest to god super soldier made using a serum designed during the Second World War. The whole plot seemed ripped right out of Marvel's back catalog.
So was it actually impossible?
"They never believed me. No one ever has. But I know what I saw. I know it was real." Barry insisted. He gestured to where the thief had ripped down the door, replaced now by some kind of fancy plastic plugging the hole for now. "As real as someone ripping down a metal door with his bare hands!"
Sara inclined her head to the side, nodding a bit.
"So... you... what? Go around, looking into strange, unusual cases. Impossible-seeming things?"
Barry nodded. "Anything that seems to defy explanation... police- most police tend to just take the simpler, 'obvious' answer, rather than accept that something impossible could be happening." He cleared his throat. "I mean- you-"
"No, you're right. Most police are. Especially if the answer does seem so obvious." Dead wife, living husband, no one else present. Obvious case.
"My dad is serving a life sentence, for a crime he didn't commit. Whoever or whatever killed my mom could still be out there." He swallowed. "Maybe I can't find proof on who killed her. But if I can make sense of just one impossible case. Prove that it's real..." he trailed off.
Maybe someone will listen? Someone will believe me when I say my dad didn't kill my mom? Sara finished mentally.
"I'm sorry I lied to you." Barry finished. He straightened up and moved towards his stuff on the table, next to his bag. He paused, halfway there, looking at Felicity - who had lost the wide-eyed glare. She had that look, when you were holding back a few tears, like you had something caught in your throat. "Better find another plus one," he told her, sounding genuinely regretful.
Felicity's mouth opened, shocked, and she looked not at Barry, but at Sara, glaring once more, at her.
Oh, come on, give me more credit than that, Felicity!
"Barry, I didn't say you should leave," Sara interrupted, as he started to put his tablet into his bag. She kept talking as Barry paused, looking at her again, confused even more, brow furrowed. "I wanted to know why you were here, and now I do. You lied, yeah, but you can't leave..." Sara held one hand up, palm facing her, lowering it after a moment.
"Well, I mean, you can, if you want, but one, I'll be stuck relying on a backed up crime lab, on a case that all the forensic people who work there will relegate to the 'impossible' and some super-strong freakshow will still be out there, running around, free in Starling after killing two people here, and leaving three of the workers at the blood bank in the hospital. And two," she ticked both items off on her fingers, "you have a date tomorrow, and it would be a shame if Felicity was stood up."
Felicity's expression went from upset to surprised to grinning with a few tears in her eyes within seconds, and Barry just stared at her dumbly for a long moment, then closed his mouth and cleared his throat.
"So you're not- I mean- you're not going to kick me off this case?"
"I probably should, if I was doing this by the book," Sara admitted. "You're lucky I'm the one on this case. But yeah, I'm not kicking you off the case, or out of Starling. I mean... you're right. Something impossible does seem to be happening here," she gestured to the plastic covering, to where the centrifuge had been.
"From the damage to this arrow, it's almost like it got fired into concrete," Felicity added, and Sara snapped her fingers, gesturing at her
"Another good point." Sara nodded, then let out a breath, walking towards Barry. "Look, I care more about getting this guy off the streets than anything else. I get the feeling that if we can figure out who he is, or where he is, we'll probably end up with more than enough evidence that any... irregularities from your involvement won't come up."
Playing it fast and loose in all the ways you hate when other cops do it, Sara ignored that voice. She knew she was on the side of right here, and...
Well, somehow, she doubted this would be ending with a trial anyway.
Sara held out a hand, "So what do you say? You get to help solve this case, and your Captain can be none the wiser. Deal?"
Barry hesitated, then looked over at Felicity. He smiled a bit, then looked back at her, accepting her hand.
"Deal."