Disclaimer: Don't own it.
Finally, we have reached the end of the three-parter Mirakuru intro arc. Really did plan on only two chapters here, but there you go.
As is often the case, Arrow does this thing where they're maddeningly vague about what's where and who is doing what when at the most inconvenient times. It's actually not clear in the show if the place the centrifuge was was the Langford Institute or not, but it fits the available details just enough that I can go with it.
Thanks to Nyame and Okoriwadsworth for giving this chapter a once-over before publication. Also to Okoriwadsworth and Ray_writes for coming up with the chapter title.
The Siege of Starling City
By Kylia
Chapter 10: Blood, Sweat and Cries
HanShotFirst1991: Just when I thought I couldn't be any more of a fan of the Black Canary, she has superpowers! Check out the attached traffic cam video!
MotivatedWerewolf16: What are you talking about? Look at her throat, she's got some kind of gadget there, it's glowing all blue, like her old sonic device. She just made something new. Pfft, superpowers. This isn't a comic book.
HanshotFirst1991: Dude, have you been paying any attention to the stuff happening in Central City? And not a comic book? We've got masked superheroes fighting crime and a man tried to artificially generate an earthquake last year!
TheKingofFyff: He's got a point, Werewolf, I think we're past the point where 'this isn't a comic book' makes sense. But really, HanShotFirst, superpowers? I'm not saying there isn't some weird shit going down in Central City, even if the mainstream news isn't talking about it, but science is still a thing. But yeah, Black Canary's clearly got some kind of new gadget, easier to use than something she tosses around and has to collect after. I wonder how she's got it wired to her actual screams so perfectly. And look at how she made that goon fly when she hit him with it!
-Excerpt from a Conversation on Musingsonthemasked, a Superhero/Vigilante fansite, February 18th, 2014
Alderman Blood's Office, City Hall, Starling City
December 3rd, 2013
Sara didn't like doing this, it was far too direct. But the truth is, she had no probable cause to pull any information on Blood's blood drive, especially since he was an Alderman. And she had no favors she could call in with anyone who might be able to help her. So all she really had as an option was to go right to the source.
"Is the Alderman in?" Sara asked the young man at the front desk. She held up her badge, "If he's not too busy, I would like a word with him. He's not under any investigation, I'm just trying to get some context from him that might help with a case." Sara needed to cover her ass. She was still on all sorts of thin ice with I.A. If Blood made any sort of complaint that she was... going after him, or that the SCPD was trying to 'oppress' him and his message of change for the city - especially since transferring funds from the police to social services was a proposal he'd pushed repeatedly and would no doubt be a central plank of his inevitable and very likely soon announcement to run for Mayor...
Not that I'm not against the idea in principle, though he takes it too far but if he decides I'm going after him because of that...
"I can see if he is, Detective...?" The young man asked, though he sounded skeptical.
"Detective Lance," Sara supplied, and the man picked up the phone, pressing a button.
"Alderman? There's a Detective Lance here to see you? She just wants a few questions." A pause, "Sir?" Pause, "Okay. I'll send her in." He set the phone down. "The Alderman will see you now." He sounded surprised, and honestly, Sara didn't blame him.
"Thank you," she put her badge away and then approached the door at the far end of the room, opening up into a well-appointed office. She looked around, seeing the well-made craftsmanship of a few pieces of art, one being a local artist Sara recognized - didn't that guy live in the Glades? Nice touch.
It showed off a certain degree of success, and sophistication, for when Blood was dealing with city officials, lobbyists, the media, but it wasn't... extravagant. Nothing that looked too expensive, nothing that seemed... ostentatious. Everything was put perfectly in its place, to allow Blood to seem like a reasonable professional city official, but also one who knew where he came from.
In other words, a politician with a carefully crafted mask. Sara respected Blood's general intentions, though she'd have wished for a less firebrand candidate carrying the message, but he was ultimately, almost certainly, just another politician.
Even if Laurel and Oliver seemed to think otherwise.
But he was certainly no worse, and probably better, than some politicians, she could give him that.
"Detective," Blood was standing behind his desk and held out a hand, which she accepted and shook. "I only have a short time before my next meeting, so we will have to be quick, but how can I help the SCPD today?"
"It's... it's not an official investigation, more a favor for a friend that may turn into an investigation if there's something to it." Sara explained, then cleared her throat. "A friend of a friend went missing recently, and then turned up dead in the Glades a week later. The police that landed the case ruled it an OD."
"And you don't think it was, Detective?" Blood assumed, not that that wasn't obvious. "I do have some pull when it comes to cases in my Ward, I could have it looked into again-"
"No -" Sara cleared her throat. "The victim - he was poor. Lived in the glades his whole life. Exactly the sort of person that..." she let out a breath and decided that there wasn't much need to beat around the bush here with Blood on this. "Well, yeah, a lot of cops write people like him off, and it's not something I'm a fan of."
"I'd think so, given your sister's profound sense of justice." Blood pointed out. "It's good to hear that there are people in the SCPD that are prepared to give that justice for everyone in this city, rich and poor alike. How can I help?"
So that's why he agreed to meet me? Laurel had worked with Blood on the gun buyback and the earlier charity gala, clearly she'd made a good impression.
"The last place this person, Max, went was your recent blood donation drive." Sara explained. "According to my friend, he did blood donations regularly for spare cash, so there's no chance he was a drug user."
"True, we screen for that quite thoroughly at my blood drives," the Alderman nodded. "But I can't just hand over any of this young man's medical records from the drive, even if he's dead, without some kind of court order,"
"No - no, I understand. I don't need those. I believe my friend when they insist he never used drugs intentionally. I think someone abducted him, and your blood drive is the last place anyone saw him..." She cleared her throat. "To put it bluntly, Alderman, I'm worried someone might have used your blood drive as a place to look for someone who wouldn't be missed. From what I gather, Max had no family, no stable job..."
She paused, "Remember when Vertigo was first appearing, the Count got his name because of all the homeless people he snatched off the street to test his new drug on?" Blood nodded. "It seems insane to think someone might be doing something like that again, and maybe they're not, but... I'd like to at least tell my friend that I did what I could to help them find out what happened to Max. Maybe... maybe something happened and he accidentally took drugs somehow, maybe he used it for the first time or maybe he ran afoul of some dealer who decided to try and hide a murder behind an apparent OD. Wouldn't be the first time." Sara really didn't like how much she had to cover herself here, on so many levels. But they needed some kind of lead. And she was hoping the mention of Vertigo - which Blood had sounded the alarm about well before the rest of the city took seriously - might get him interested.
"But either way... I was hoping you'd be willing to give me the names of some of the volunteers who worked at the drive. I'm hoping one of them remembers Max, maybe saw or heard where he might have been going, or if someone was hanging around him... it's a long shot, I know, but -"
"It's a very troubling prospect you raise, even if it is a slim one," Blood said, voice soft, his tone grave. "I don't know if all of my volunteers would be comfortable with me just handing their names over to the police." He opened his hands a bit, gesturing with his arms a bit wide, as if to say 'what can you do?'
"And I fully understand that. Anything you can do, I would appreciate greatly." Sara said quickly. "Is there someone on your staff who coordinated this that I could talk to, so I don't take up too much of your time-"
"My outreach coordinator, yes," Blood wrote down a name and a phone number on a post-it note and handed it to her. "He would be able to talk to the volunteers directly and ask them if any of them would be comfortable talking to you." He paused, "There's another couple people I can also suggest," He wrote down a few more names.
"We partnered with the Langford Institute. They're a psych clinic in the south side, they have a pilot program to help provide low cost or free psychiatric or psychological assistance to residents of the Glades who are dealing with a specific set of issues, and many of our donors sat down with them to see if the Institute might be able to help them. Unfortunately, the institute only has so many slots open, so a lot of people didn't get helped, but they may have spoken to your friend's friend, or seen something, and given the permit paperwork they signed when we partnered with them to set things up, I can give your their names in good conscience."
A pilot program for low cost or free psychological care? Sara swallowed. That was...
That was exactly the sort of thing that someone might use as a cover to find people for medical experimentation, right? Who had family or friends waiting for them? Who was desperate, who might be missed, who might not?
As they say, there's no such thing as a free lunch, so...
Maybe they had been on the level, and if not for the fact that she knew someone had taken this Max and dosed him up with Mirakuru - or at least, Oliver knew - she'd have assumed it was about the good press, tax write-offs, maybe someone's charitable donation, but now...
"Thank you very much for your help." Sara stood, holding out a hand and Blood accepted it, shaking it.
"I'm sure they or my outreach coordinator will be able to help you. Please, if it does turn out that someone is preying on the people of the Glades, and if they're using my blood drives as a way to do it..."
"You'll be the first to know, I promise." Sara assured him.
The Foundry, Starling City
December 3rd, 2013
Oliver was not a master engineer. But he had learned the hard way how to make good arrows, and how to adapt other people's designs into something that worked for him. The internet was full of people imagining all sorts of trick arrows, among other things, and while most of them were either useless, impractical or impossible, there were a few designs that, on testing, had worked out.
And Oliver could use other designs as inspirations for his own testing as well. Even things that worked might not work for his needs without tweaking.
This...
This really wasn't the same thing.
This was the equivalent of strapping a bunch of shrapnel onto a firework and aiming it in the direction of your enemies.
But... if it worked, at least for the short term...
"It was like... I mean, I've fought you, I've fought Laurel, and both of you kick my ass all the time, but this guy..." Diggle trailed off, "It was unreal."
Oliver didn't look up from his work as he carefully wrapped a small amount - very small - of C-4 just behind the head of what had been a flashbang arrow, but wasn't going to be one for much longer.
"There's a reason they called it Mirakuru," Oliver pointed out. Diggle scoffed, and Oliver could guess he was rolling his eyes. "In a one to one, fair fight, there's no beating anyone hopped up on Mirakuru. Even fighting dirty doesn't work, unless you do it just right."
"Man practically shrugged off my bullets like they were nerf," Diggle pointed out. "I suppose if I had proper armor-piercing rounds, or sniper rifle or something, something more than a sidearm, but..." he let out a sigh. "It's insane - if the Japanese had managed to actually get that stuff into mass production, during the war..."
"Not something that I'd really like to think about," Oliver suggested. One Mirakuru soldier was... more than enough. "If whoever is behind Cyrus Gold manages to get things to mass production, we'll get a taste of what could have been." Diggle was probably right - almost certainly right - that with powerful enough bullets, or maybe just enough of them, it would be possible to kill a Mirakuru soldier. But if there were enough of these super soldiers, and they came prepared, with body armor to slow bullet impacts even a little, attacked from multiple directions...
A fully equipped modern military, with tanks and air support and the rest might be able to win, in the end, but the casualties could end up being horrendous. And the militaries of the 1940s?
Oliver really didn't want to think about that.
With the C-4 in place, Oliver carefully removed the flashbang head of the arrow, and opened it up. If he wanted the plastic explosive to go off when it was supposed to, he needed more explosive force. This was the real issue. A full sized detonator would be too unwieldy, and he'd have to specifically press it or rely on a timer he couldn't count on. But his flashbang arrows went off within seconds of being fired, or getting an impact, or stopping.
He just needed a bigger explosion to make sure the C-4 went off. What he wasn't sure of was if he could -
"Nah, no, if you want that plastic to go off, you want the center of the explosion closer," Diggle cut in, and Oliver looked up at him, eyebrow raised. "I used plenty of C-4 when I was in Afghanistan, and disarmed detonators strapped to it too. That detonator's small, really small, so you want to have it right up against the C-4, like -" Diggle shook his head and gestured for Oliver to move out of the way. "Let me show you."
Oliver started a moment, unsure, but then nodded. "Okay." He stepped back, handing the tool he'd been using to place the miniature detonator to Diggle.
"See, you want it right up against the stuff. There's no room for playing around here. If you want the arrow to go off." Diggle showed him what he meant, moving it so it was practically touching the plastic explosive. "The whole point of C-4 is how stable it is. It doesn't want to go off."
"Doesn't give me a lot of room to maneuver either. If I'm close -" Oliver pointed out, as he examined the arrow. Given time, he might be able to find a more reliable option than this slapped-together thing, but... it looked like Diggle had a point.
"If you're close enough to this supersoldier for the explosion to do much damage..." Diggle trailed off meaningfully, looking down at his arm, which the supersoldier had gotten this close to breaking.
"Point," Oliver nodded. He was about to say something more when his phone rang. Sara. "Do you have anything?" He asked, carefully fitting the head of the arrow back over the detonator, the phone on speaker.
"I found... something. Blood partnered with a local psychological clinic, the Langford Institute, during the blood drive. According to all the official records, they were doing a pilot program to try and bring psychological and psychiatric care to the people in the glades. Low-cost, or even free, in some cases. They did evaluations to find out who might be eligible." Sara explained.
"That could be nothing."
"It could, yeah. They could have been doing real charitable work, they could have been doing evaluations to see if they can get people into legit research trials. But the Langford Institute doesn't really seem to exist. I mean, it does, but I don't see a lot of evidence of patients, or even medical trials. Maybe I'm looking in the wrong place, and if not for Sin's friend going missing..."
"Felicity?" Oliver looked over at the blonde, who hadn't waited for his word to start typing furiously.
"Already looking for everything I can find on the Langford Institute," Felicity added. A pause, "...they have unusually strong firewalls, even for a psychology clinic. Not," she added quickly, too quickly, "that I've ever tested any of those. Their tax information is pretty sparse... yeah, it looks like they haven't seen many patients over the last few years, really. Ever since they got bought out by some shell company 'New Rebirth Industries" which... also doesn't seem to exist. Just ends in a post office box in Corto Maltese and a routing number. I'm not seeing any sort of declaration of charitable donation that would be funding anything, and..."
Felicity shook her head, trailing off. "Nothing damning, but nothing exonerating them either."
"I could call the people at the Langford Institute," Sara suggested. "Ask questions, see if that turns anything up. But if they're involved..."
"That might get them to start destroying the evidence, or send Cyrus Gold to kill you." Oliver disagreed.
"I'm not worried about - I can just stay at the station-"
"Sara, if one of these men attacked a police station that wasn't prepared for it, there's a very good chance most of the officers present would die," Oliver shook his head. "And I don't think you could convince Captain Pike to just fill the department with SWAT officers in body armor and AP rounds in everyone's bullets."
"Not without telling him more than I can safely say," Sara let out an angry breath, the exhale rough and with almost a low growl at the end. "Oliver, you can't go up against this guy alone again!"
"Sara, there's not much you can do. I've - I've got something that might be able to help even the odds, so- " Oliver cut himself off. "I have to do this. Just - keep trying to reach Laurel. But we don't have much time now - whoever is behind this has the blood, and the Ketamine, so they could be hours from making more super soldiers."
Oliver set his jaw, looking down at the makeshift explosive arrow. If it hit Gold, or Gold caught it, or tried to bat it away, or something, it should go off. There wasn't enough C-4 to do too much damage, but it should do enough.
He looked over at Diggle, then Felicity and Barry, all of whom looked as worried as Sara had sounded, but none of them could present a better argument.
"I have to do this, Sara." Oliver repeated. I can do this. I don't even need to kill Gold to stop them. Just destroy the centrifuge. He looked over at Felicity. "The Langford Institute should have building schematics on file at city hall, right?"
"They're supposed to," Felicity agreed quickly. A few seconds typing, "Luckily I have all that stuff handy because you need it all the time- and yes. Here." She pulled away from the screen and Oliver looked it over. There was no way to know from looking at the schematic where the centrifuge would be, but there were several ways in and out. He'd have to check the exterior to know the best options, but now he knew where to start.
"Keep calling Laurel," Oliver told Sara again, then hung up the phone.
It was time to stop this Mirakuru project before it got any further.
Langford Institute, Starling City
December 3rd, 2013
Criminals sometimes stole from other criminals. They killed other criminals. More than once, Oliver had come upon that happening in real time.
"Felicity, someone else broke in here, and recently." The broken glass on the inside of the door hadn't even been swept away. It was a sloppy job, but sloppy did the work when someone wasn't expecting anything. "Anything turned up on who might want to steal from this place?" The institute was in a reasonably safe neighborhood... regular street crime wasn't common here, and who would break into a psych clinic?
Pharmaceuticals? Oliver didn't think any of the medications a psychologist would prescribe had much street value, but it was the most likely case.
"Nothing specific, no." Felicity's voice came over the comms. Oliver stepped in slowly, bow in hand, other hand on the corner as he turned down a wall.
Two men, both masked like Cyrus Gold had been, were walking towards him from the far end of the hall. Oliver tensed for a moment - was he too late?
No.
They didn't move like supersoldiers.
Grabbing two regular arrows, Oliver loaded, jumped into the hallway, and fired - two cries in pain, nearly in unison as the guards spun backwards, arrows in the shoulder. Oliver was already on them, driving his fist into the chin of one, kicking the others leg, hooking his foot behind the knee and yanking -
With a thud, one guard was on the ground, the other reeling.
The reeling one tried to grab at a walkie-talking on his belt - but before he could bring it to his mouth, Oliver's hands were on the man's wrist and he twisted, forcing the electronic device out of his hands - other hand grabbed the back of the man's head, forced it down, forward, hard, into his own hand - and then another kick to the stomach and he was down for a moment. A moment was all Oliver needed as he grabbed the guard he'd tripped.
That one was already struggling to his feet when hands grabbed the front of his coat and slammed him against the wall.
"Where's the centrifuge?!" Oliver snarled, the voice modulator disguising his voice.
"I will never betray my brother," The guard said confidently, despite his situation. "He will save this city from itself."
"Not with Mirakuru," Oliver snarled. "It's poison that destroys everything and everyone it touches," Oliver drove his knee into the guard's stomach, then pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back into it as he gasped. "Where is the centrifuge!?" He shouted. The guard said nothing, trying to smirk defiantly as he sucked in air. It didn't really work, but it made the man's point regardless. Oliver snarled, pulling the man's mask off his face, tossing it aside and then punching him square in the jaw and throwing him into his compatriot, who had just been starting to get up.
With both guards down for the count, Oliver stalked down the hall, kicking open a door, seeing nothing but file cabinets in that one. Another had just two chairs, and a few light, banal decorations. A third was an office.
"Wait, I have something!" Felicity's voice came over the comms as Oliver checked yet another room, revealing a break room, complete with a fridge, microwave and coffee maker. The room smelled faintly of microwaved fish. "The official plans for the building on file at City Hall don't have a basement, but I tracked down the records of the original application for the building before the Langford Institute bought it and there was a basement in the original blueprint."
They had the version at City Hall changed? Oliver frowned. That wasn't impossible, but generally more effort than it was worth - Oliver hadn't bothered to do that with the basement of Verdant. It could mean they had an ally in City Hall to make that easier, or...
Or they just took that extra step on their own.
"Where's the entrance?" If there was a hidden basement... that's where Oliver would keep a stolen centrifuge
"Near the opposite end of the building from where you came in. Just keep going down the central hallway, then turn left before the lobby and keep going."
"On my way." Oliver picked up the pace, getting closer to the lobby, and then turning. Another two guards were there, these ones had pulled out pistols, waiting for him.
Oliver dove as bullets flew over head, tackling the legs of one of the guards, knocking him to the ground, grabbing his torso and flipping them, putting this guard between himself and his compatriot - another shot from the still standing guard went into his ally, and then Oliver shoved the still alive - for now, - guard off himself, rolling as more shots went where he just was.
Oliver stood quickly, throwing a flechette at the man, watching it hit his face - not enough to do much damage, but enough to distract him - Oliver fired an arrow into his leg, the guard cried out again, dropping and with another quick movement, Oliver kicked the guard in the face.
He didn't stop to see if they were unconscious or just down for the moment as he raced for the basement door. It was locked, and one kick didn't prove enough to break it open. He shoved with his whole body, shoulder reverberating under the force, but he heard it crack - but it still didn't open. But now, damaged enough, he kicked again, and the door, reinforced or not, broke open, enough that Oliver could clear a hole and stoop through.
The stairs curved around, and he moved as quickly as he could without running, coming out into a room that looked a bit like a mad doctors office from one of those sci-fi horror movies he and Tommy had used to watch and mock as teenagers.
The dim lighting did the lion's share of that, casting shadows around the room, with a few industrial flood lights on low setting near the center of the room, lighting that space up and only adding to the 'creepy' effect. There was a table with various tools and implements, another with vials, pill bottles. The centrifuge, full of vials full of a green liquid, the way the light hit them almost made them look like they were glowing.
Another cabinet/medical freezer, full of more medical supplies.
There were three people in the room, all turned to face him when he arrived. One, a man in a suit, some sort of brown, horror-movie-esque mask on his face... Oliver couldn't even tell what it was meant to be of, but it made it look like the man had a mouth full of long teeth, or at least gave off that impression. Maybe a skull?
Standing by him was another man in a suit, tall, thin, almost reedy. He was balding, and sweating, and obviously too terrified to be a threat in a fight, even though he was scrambling to pull a gun from his suit jacket pocket.
And the last was Cyrus Gold, not wearing his mask, standing by the cabinet.
There was a gurney, against one wall, the concrete walls weren't exactly stained with blood, but the room smelled strongly of bleach. And at the center of the room was a chair. An occupied chair.
Oliver almost didn't recognize the man strapped to that chair, stripped down to a sleeveless shirt, barely conscious.
Roy Harper.
Damnit Roy. Oliver pushed the question of how Roy had gotten here, had known to come here - or if he'd just gotten too close in some other way and been taken here - aside as he saw the syringe in the masked man's hand.
It was full.
He didn't inject Roy. Oliver could only be grateful he'd arrived in time to save Roy from that fate...
"You." the masked man said, his voice distorted - but unlike Oliver's which just made his voice deeper and obviously masked - this one made his voice almost reverberate, like multiple people were talking. "Brother Cyrus said you were dead." He glanced over at his supersoldier, who was bracing himself for a charge, hands against the wall, but obviously waiting for a signal from the masked man.
The balding man managed to pull his gun from his jacket, but he nearly dropped it, hyperventilating - Oliver fired a single arrow, hitting the gun more than the man's hands, but it was enough to have the balding man drop to the ground, one hand bleeding from a grazing cut and too terrified to do more.
"Your Mirakuru only did so much. Strength alone doesn't win your battles."
"Perhaps," The masked man allowed. "But my brothers also have conviction. And soon, I will have many brothers with Brother Cyrus's strength." He added. "Starting with Roy Harper here."
"That's never going to happen," Oliver growled. "How did you get the Mirakuru?" There shouldn't have been any samples of it left. Had some survived on the island? Elsewhere?
"It was a gift." The Masked man said, and though he barely moved as he said it, there was almost a shrug in his voice, as if he didn't care where he got it. "And I will use it to save this city from itself."
No one gives something like Mirakuru as a gift without a motive. One way or the other, Oliver would have to find out who was behind this man. But that would have to wait.
"And though Brother Cyrus may have failed to kill you, you also failed to stop him." The masked man nodded to Cyrus, and Cyrus charged. The Masked Man moved towards Roy, about to inject -
Oliver made his choice, and fired-
The masked man managed to evade the arrow just at the last moment, but the syringe fell out of his hand as he half-stumbled in his dodge, but after that Oliver had to focus all his efforts as a punch to his chest from Gold sent him reeling, spinning back, crashing into the wall.
Groaning, Oliver rolled along the wall, just barely missing a punch to the head that actually broke the concrete where it hit. Oliver grabbed an arrow from his quiver - a normal one, and stabbed it at Cyrus, getting him in the thigh - it only slowed him a moment as he grunted, seemingly more from surprise than pain. Oliver pulled back, putting as much distance between himself and the supersoldier as the room allowed. His hand closed around the explosive arrow, and he pulled it out, fitting it into his bow, pushing the button on the back, priming the detonator. Once he fired...
"You can't win, Arrow." Gold growled. "This city will be cleansed!" He snapped the arrow off in his leg. "Bullets, knives, arrows, fists - nothing anyone can do to me can stop me! Or my brother soldiers to come!" He smirked as he watched Oliver pull back the string on his bow, and rather than run at Oliver, walked, confident that nothing could stop him.
Conviction indeed.
Oliver fired.
The arrow hit Gold in the shoulder, near to his face and neck, but not quite.
"I told you-" Gold started, reaching his hand up to break the shaft off of this arrow and then-
Oliver dropped into a crouch as the detonator went off - the sound of the explosion was louder than Oliver expected, but lacked the brightness of the flashbang - Oliver was able to look at Gold, reeling back, somehow still standing, his shoulder in bloody shreds, his neck, his face-
It had been a small, almost miniscule amount of C-4, but the damage, blowing away skin, destroying half his lips and practically bursting one eye.
Gold was still standing, still breaking, but with blood pouring from his ruined face, neck, shoulder-
He was dead soon. He had to be.
But with a scream of pain and fury, he charged, not ready to die yet.
Oliver dove to the right, ducking under a punch, sidestepping another swing, the man half-blind, mad with pain - his punches were sloppy, his technique even worse, his speed more than enough for Oliver to keep dodging. He pulled out another arrow from his quiver, and yet again didn't fire it from his bow - Gold was too close, and then -
Wither another punch flying over his head as Oliver ducked, Gold overstended himself fatally - literally. Even if not for the damage to his face, his neck, the supersoldier couldn't be left alive. Gripping the arrow behind the head, Oliver stabbed it like a knife, right into his carotid triangle, above the neck.
Dense muscle tissue across his body or not, the skin there was still fairly soft, though the arrowhead caught on bone and only went in so far.
It was enough, as Gold gurgled scream of pain, fury, frustration as Oliver jumped back, Gold staggered, stalling, hands at his neck, ripping the arrow out -
He dropped to his knees, trying to say something, but he couldn't get it out, trying in vain to hold the blood back -
Oliver turned, heading the thud as Gold landed face-first on the ground. He had a man to unmas-
The masked man was gone. The balding man was still there, but dead now, shot in the face, executed for his failure no doubt...
Oliver looked to the centrifuge. It was still there, and almost all of the nearly hundred vials were still there, but...
Several were taken.
Four missing.
Oliver looked quickly - the syringe the masked man had dropped was still on the ground, still full. He looked to Roy, who was conscious now, awake, aware, eyes glued to the sight of the dead, or maybe still barely alive for now Gold - but the pool of blood slowly spreading as he lay there on the ground meant he couldn't have much longer.
"You - you-" Roy gasped, then looked to Oliver, or the Arrow, as he knew him. "He -" His chest was rising and falling quickly, breathing fast. Roy gasped, sucking in air, trying to control himself. Oliver moved towards him, slowly, and undid the straps holding Roy to the chair."How did he- you - how did he... the way he moved and - the wall and... then... he survived... what was that?"
"An explosion." Oliver answered, helping Roy out of the chair, making sure not to give Roy a chance to look too closely at his face under the hood. "The drug they gave Sin's friend, Max. The drug they almost gave you. If you had survived, you'd have been like him. Stronger, faster... and insane." Oliver drew another arrow, a regular flashbag.
"He... the man in the mask said I would fight for him." Roy swallowed, looking back at the dead Gold again.
"You would have died, or you would have lost everything that made you who you were," Oliver explained. "Get to the stairs."
"You- I-" Roy started, then stopped, and swallowed. "Thank you."
"I'll find you soon." Oliver said. "But the police will be here soon. Don't be here when they are." Roy nodded, and ran for the stairs. Oliver got as far from the centrifuge as he could, and fired the flashbang arrow not at the centrifuge itself, but the breaker box next to it. He averted his eyes as it connected, exploded, raining sparks onto the centrifuge, shattering the vials, glass flying into others.
The Mirakuru splattered all over the floor, the walls, into the ceiling, and then parts of the ceiling rained down onto it, the force of the explosion from the breaker's box not enough to seriously threaten the building's stability, but enough to do the job.
The Foundry, Starling City
December 3rd, 2013
Sara hadn't exactly been holding her breath the whole time since Oliver had insisted he had to go to the Langford Institute, but - as the door opened, and she looked, hand flying to her gun -
She let out a breath anyway as she saw it was Oliver.
He was alive, and though from the he moved, he was injured, but at least there was no... blood? His limbs seemed intact. No broken arms or legs. No mysterious syringes in his leg...
"You're okay." Sara let out another breath, sagging where she stood.
Diggle grabbed the first aid kid, gesturing for Oliver to sit in the chair. "But you're hurt, so-"
"I'm -" Oliver started, then grunted as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "In a minute." He swallowed. "You were right about the Langford Institute. And you were right about the basement," he looked at Felicity.
"Actually, it was Barry's idea..." Felicity admitted. "He - he had to leave, to catch the train to Central, but as he did, he suggested that everywhere on the ground floor was too exposed. Too many windows, the walls not thick enough in case someone screamed. But there wasn't a basement and then I-" Felicity had started babbling, then she managed to stop herself, taking a breath.
"I'm just- I'm glad you're okay." She finished.
"...If you and Barry hadn't found out about the basement as fast as you did, Roy would have been injected." Oliver told her. "You saved his life."
"Roy - is he? Is he okay?" Sara honestly didn't know him all that well, but she knew how much Thea loved him and -
"He's fine. Shaken up. But fine. I don't know how he ended up in the Institute, but they didn't manage to inject him. I destroyed the centrifuge, and almost all of the Mirakuru."
Almost? That - Sara's breath caught. Would they be doing this all over again?
"Almost?" Diggle asked before Sara could, and Oliver nodded.
"Gold was working for someone. A man in a mask, with the image of.." Oliver held his hand over his face a moment as he seemed to grope for the right word. "A skull, I guess. While I fought Gold, he- he got away with four vials of the serum."
Shit. That meant... okay, so maybe not four more supersoldiers, if some could die, like Sin's friend Max. But more.
"This isn't over." Sara murmured.
"No." Oliver shook his head. "It's not. He didn't tell me where he got the Mirakuru formula from, but - he said it was a gift, given to him. That he'd use to save this city. Gold talked about... cleansing. The way they all called each other brother. It's some kind of... messianic cult."
"A recipe for super soldiers as a gift?" Diggle shook his head, half in awe, half incredulity. "And I thought buying a new Playstation 4 for my nephew was the best Christmas gift."
"For a kid his age, that probably is," Felicity pointed out, smiling, trying - and failing - to lighten the mood. She cleared her throat, looking away.
"You don't do something like that without a reason." Oliver murmured. He took a breath. "We'll have to keep our eyes out." He exhaled, slowly. "But the explosive arrow worked."
"Is Gold-" Diggle started, and Oliver nodded.
"Died on Saturday, buried on Sunday," he said, like he was quoting a poem or song or something. Sara didn't know what it was, but...
Oliver went on, looking off to the side at nothing in particular. "Roy... Roy will have questions. And I need to know how he ended up at the Langford Institute." He sat down in the chair Diggle had directed him too earlier. "If he keeps poking his nose into things, though... he may not be so lucky next time. Laurel's going to have to think seriously about cutting him loose, or... bringing him in." He turned back, looking towards Sara.
"I haven't been able to reach Laurel, still. Mom called the cops in Central, reported her missing." It was still a bad move. Sara was sure Laurel was fine. It's not like anyone would know she was the Black Canary if they tried to go after her, and while muggings and other street crime wasn't unheard of in Central City, it was far, far, far from common.
Laurel was fine.
She had to be.
"Dad is freaking out, he's already trying to file for leave to run to Central and try to find her himself." Sara added.
"We've been trying for nearly two days. And she left your mom's house before that." Oliver bit his lip, stood quickly, and then groaned, falling back into the chair.
"First aid first, find your girlfriend second." Diggle cut in. Oliver opened his mouth to protest, then nodded.
Sara turned away from them, looking to Felicity.
"...can you get into Central City's traffic cams?" Felicity raised an eyebrow, and Sara rolled her eyes. "Stupid question, of course you can. Can you please do that? See if you can find Laurel?"
"Absolutely," Felicity nodded, and Sara bit her lip, turning away, dialing Laurel's phone again.
Where the hell is she?
Outside a Mini-Mart, Central City
December 3rd, 2013
I'd call this a comedy of errors, but none of it was funny. Laurel grumbled to herself as she handed the clerk her card, already opening the packaging of the burner phone.
In her haste to get out of her mom's house after the fight - a simple disagreement that had turned into a shouting match and then Laurel letting out things she hadn't - things she hadn't even realized she was still angry about, that she'd ever been that angry about and -
She'd stormed out, only grabbing her purse, and her phone, and only realized she hadn't brought her charger once she was at the motel she'd selected to stay at. Of course, by the time she realized she didn't have her charger, the phone was nearly dead, and every single shop she'd stopped at was out of chargers that fit her phone. It was insane, but apparently there had been some sort of shipping issue.
For every shop in town.
So the phone was dead and then she couldn't even find a burner phone in stock, at least not one she'd actually trust as far as she could throw it. She'd been going around Central for two days, still fuming about her fight with her mom, and getting nowhere.
There was no point signing up for a new phone or contract, her dead phone was properly secured by the best tech Oliver could get for it.
Laurel knew she should have called her mother, let her know she was okay, with a payphone or something, but something stopped her. Spite, probably, as foreign a feeling as that was.
Everything is still shot. I feel... I feel like I did when I first joined the League. No emotional control. Everything raw, an exposed nerve.
She'd been doing better, the time away from Central, able to center herself again, and then-
And then she'd run into Samantha Clayton at that coffee shop. Jitters. With her son. William. Who was - whatever Samantha had tried to lie - exactly the right age.
Exactly the right age to be Oliver's son.
When she'd seen Samantha, her first thought was to catch up with her old friend, old roommate. She'd wondered, for a long time, why Samantha had abruptly transferred to Central City University, barely a goodbye. Of course, once Oliver told her what had happened, after their reunion in Russia...
She wanted Samantha to know she didn't blame her. Forgave her.
The memory of the way Samantha hadn't been able to look her in the face as she'd rushed out with the last of her bags made sense, now. The other girl had to have been feeling guilty.
Samantha had looked like she was nearly having a heart attack when she realized who she was. She'd tried to stammer out an apology and Laurel had had to interrupt her, explaining that she wasn't mad.
Then she'd seen the son. Seen William. And asked his age. Samantha had lied - it was a good lie. Someone else might have believed it. She'd made up an excuse, that she had to go, they had to go...
Ollie had said Sam told him she lost the baby. A lie. But not from Oliver. From Sam.
Oliver had the right to know he had a son. But at the same time, Samantha seemed - she seemed to be doing well by him. Being a good mother. Did she have the right to upset that? But she also didn't have the right to keep that secret from him.
There were no secrets between her and Ollie anymore.
But in trying to figure out how to actually raise the issue with Oliver, she'd made the mistake of asking her mother for advice.
And then things had gone... downhill.
Laurel closed her eyes and took a breath, taking her card back from the clerk and turning away, starting the process of activating the phone. She needed to call Ollie. He'd know she could take care of herself, but he had to have called in the last two days. She'd seen the news alert about the murders at the Applied Sciences building, gotten his text that he was staying to make sure the case got resolved, or at least staying for a few more days...
He could be on his way to the city now and I wouldn't know it. Hell, he could be here, in the city, and I wouldn't know.
Laurel stepped out of the Minimart, standing under the overhang, the rain downpouring. It was even worse than when she'd walked into the building twenty minutes ago. She looked at a nearby telephone pole, a waterlogged, partially damaged poster protesting the STAR Labs particle accelerator that had gone live less than an hour before. Something about opening black holes.
Idiots. I only did my general education science credits, and I know that's now how anything works. Laurel shook her head, then looked back at the phone, typing in the last thing she needed to activate it. She looked at the storm, then sighed. She went back into the mini-mart, buying an umbrella as she watched the phone slowly - way too slowly - finish and as she stepped out again, opening the umbrella and hearing the rain pelt it, she finally managed to get the damn thing to work.
Oliver's number she knew by heart, of course, and she held it up to her ear.
"Oliver Queen," Oliver's voice was tense, taut, and Laurel furrowed her brow.
"Ollie? What's wrong, you sound-"
"Laurel!?" Oliver nearly shouted, a fast, loud exhalation of breath audible on the other end. "You're - you're okay. Where are you? Are you hurt? What happened!? I've - we've - your mom reported you missing!"
"She - she WHAT?!" Laurel nearly shouted, ducking into an alley. Seriously mom? What the - what is wrong with that woman!?
"I'm fine, I'm still in Central. I - I left my charger at her house when I left and then -" She barked a hollow laugh. "I don't know how every damn store in this city - a city famous for all the tech companies and research labs that are based out of her - could be out of chargers and burner phones and yet somehow... I finally just got one." She shook her head. The rain was loud. "Look, the rain is - I should call you back once I get inside somewhere-"
"Laurel, we've been trying to reach you for almost two days. Sara and I - " Oliver took a breath. "Mirakuru, Laurel."
Laurel's blood ran cold. No.
No.
"Oliver, you know better than to - is my sister's perverse sense of humor rubbing off on you?!"
"Someone rediscovered the formula. Tried to make more. They did make more." Oliver explained, speaking quickly.
I'm just mishearing him over the sound of the -
"I'm on my way. I - I'll get back to the city as soon as I -" Laurel cut herself off as she heard a boom, and a bright light towards the center of the city.
Is that...
Is that STAR Labs?
A pillar of orange light, or so it seemed, blasted up from what she was-
"Laurel?" Oliver demanded, voice shaking with worry.
"I think the STAR Labs particle accelerator just blew up!" Laurel shouted, and then she saw it. A wave of orange... something, burning through the city, passing through buildings. It was coming -
Laurel ran.
"There's - I-" Laurel's phone suddenly stopped working, static, she got out of the alley and then-
The wave hit her.
Her whole body exploded with pain, she couldn't even describe it. She couldn't move, the force of the wave hitting her, but rather than knocking her into anything, it almost paralyzed her body. She closed her eyes, feeling like she was about to-
She screamed, louder, longer than she'd ever done before, ever thought possible as the pain overwhelmed her. For a split second, she almost thought she could see the sound waves in the air before her and then-
Everything went black. Her last sensation was hitting the pavement and then
Nothing.