"Yao Fei sent me," Laurel gasped out, trying her hardest not to move while the blade was still being pressed to her throat. The man pulled back a bit, spinning her around so they could face each other. He was very attractive; spiked up black hair, dark brown eyes that were narrowed in distrust, darkly tanned skin. He wasn't the type of man Laurel normally found attractive, obviously from who her boyfriend was – well, ex-boyfriend now, she supposed. She liked them pretty; this man was not pretty. He was ruggedly handsome.

"Well, you definitely aren't with Fyers' men," the man mused.

"What gave it away?" Jesus, Laurel, she mentally chided. The man just threatened to end your life. Tone down on the sarcasm. A dark eyebrow raised as the sword lowered. She tossed the map Yao Fei slipped her onto the makeshift table next to them. The man studied it for a moment.

"Shengcún," he read.

"Survive," Laurel translated, but she was pretty sure the man knew what it meant.

"I'm aware," he rasped with an amused eyebrow lift. "The real question is, why did Yao Fei send a little girl to help me get off this island?" Laurel bristled at the remark and his tone.

"Little girl?"

"What use could you possibly have on this island, girl?"

"My name is Laurel Lance, not girl," she snarled.

"Well, Miss Lance, are you worth anything to me or are you here to just waste my time?" She barely noticed that her hand had been creeping towards a knife that was lying on the makeshift table next to them until it was arching towards his face.

The man caught her wrist easily, grip restricting but not painfully tight, and disarmed her effortlessly. A deep chuckle escaped him, and he held out a hand towards her in greeting. "It looks like there's a fighter in you after all, Miss Lance. Slade Wilson." Laurel let out a breath and shook his hand firmly.

"Nice to meet you, Mister Wilson."

Slade explained to her that he and Yao Fei had been working on over taking a tower so they could get stowed away on one of the supply planes that came in. "It will be our only way off the island," he explained while pointing to places on the map. Laurel admitted it was a good plan but needed two people to execute it.

"So, where do I come in?"

"There will be one person guarding that tower; I need you to take him out."

"What will you be doing?"

"You let me worry about my ten, you worry about your one." Laurel's mouth twisted.

"Don't you think you'll need help?"

"The only thing I'm concerned about is getting you trained up to actually be able to defend yourself."

"I can defend myself, Slade," she huffed. A bamboo stick came hurtling towards her face immediately, and she reached out to catch it with her left hand.

"Let's test that theory, shall we?"

Laurel let out a grunt as her body collided with the ground for the umpteenth time in the past hour. "Again," Slade ordered, stepping back from her, allowing Laurel to drag herself back up into a fighting position. "Focus more on your offense. You're too defensive right now, and that's not gonna help us. Now, attack me." Laurel gritted her teeth and swung one of the bamboo-like sticks in her grasp towards his smug face. Slade side-stepped the blow easily, bringing one of his own sticks up to crack against her side and Laurel barely managed to block it with her other hand. The hit reverberated up her arm, making her already weakening muscles ache but she pushed through it. They needed to get off this island, and she needed to be ready and at the top of her game. They traded a few more blows and she was proud to say she was holding her own for the time being. That ended as soon as Slade hooked a foot around her ankle, tripping her.

"Was that necessary?" She huffed, slowly sitting up and glared up at the Australian.

"Expect the unexpected, kid." He offered her a hand up and Laurel took it gratefully, both falling back into their positions, Slade's offensive and Laurel's defensive. "You're pretty good. Where did you get your training?"

"Dad's a cop," Laurel grunted, swinging hard at Slade's face, which he easily blocked. "He put my sister and I in self-defense classes since we were kids. I continued on with boxing."

"Wait," he sighed, catching another one of her swings with his hand and holding on to halt Laurel's movements. "How did a cop's daughter end up on this God forsaken island?"

"Shipwreck," she sighed, pulling the bamboo stick from his grasp and resting one of the ends on the ground and leaning against it. "I was trying to surprise my boyfriend by joining him on his trip to China, but he decided to fly there instead. I stayed on, and we got caught in a storm and the yacht capsized. I was the only survivor and washed up here."

"Bad luck, kid," Slade said, a hint of sympathy in his dark eyes.

"Wanna know the worst part?" She questioned, falling back into her defensive position. Slade hummed, raising his bamboo staff to try and hit her in the face, which she ducked. "When I got this his room, there was champagne and flowers." Slade paused a moment, dark eyes studying her. "He was planning on having someone join him."

"And it wasn't you."

"And it wasn't me," she confirmed with a small, sad smile before striking out at him. He weaved out of the way fluidly.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think I would have let him live if he was here instead of you," Slade supplied gruffly, and Laurel felt her heart give a little flutter at his words.

"That does make me feel a bit better, thank you." Slade let out a grunt, and then aimed a strong hit at her side which she blocked, but the hit sent her stumbling back a few feet.

"When you see a hit coming, and you know it's going to have more strength behind it," he started, dropping his bamboo stick to grab her hips and steer her in a better defensive position. "Plant your back foot as you turn," he continued, moving her through the motion, but all Laurel could focus on at that moment was the heat coming off of Slade's palms that she could feel through the tactical pants she was still wearing. She belatedly wondered if this sudden desire for the man was from some sort of hero worship. He was teaching her how to fight better and was keeping them both alive. Sure, Laurel held her own for the most part, but Slade admittedly did most of the heavy lifting. She had already learned early on with Yao Fei that she was virtually useless with a bow and arrow, so she had come to rely on her smarts and speed more than anything. "Laurel, are you even listening to me right now?" Oh, fuck.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Slade. I spaced for a moment. Plant my back foot as I turn," she repeated, slowly doing the movement as she raised her bamboo stick against an imaginary adversary. "To make sure I don't slide back again, right?" Slade's dark eyes studied Laurel for a heartbeat or two before he nodded sharply.

"Correct." He moved back, hands leaving her hips and she felt a little cold after. "Again!"

"Do you know how to disarm an assailant with a gun?" Slade questioned, making Laurel raise an eyebrow.

"Daughter of a cop, Slade," she reminded him. "That was one of the first things I was taught."

"Alright," he nodded and then whipped a handgun out of a holster at his side and pointed it at her. Laurel reacted instantly, gripping Slade's wrist, ducking under the gun to ram her shoulder into his chest. It was a move she knew by heart.

Too bad for her, Slade could predict all of her moves.

When she ducked, his other arm came around so he could wrap his fingers around her neck loosely, and that was when she realized he left his chest open for a hit on purpose. And she took the bait. "Good attempt, but not good enough. Try again." He released her and took his stance again, pointing the gun at her.

Laurel decided to go with the same move, but quicker, and it had the same results. "Show me the best way," she said, crossing her arms over her chest with a frown. He studied her for a heartbeat before handing her the pistol, handle first. She grabbed it and copied his stance from before. Feet shoulder width apart and aiming at his face.

Slade grabbed her arm, twisting into her and drove his elbow into her sternum hard before flipping her over his shoulder, and slamming her into the ground. It felt like it only took him a second to disarm her, but she logically knew it took a bit more time than that. Right?

He crouched down, giving her a sly smile. "And that is how you disarm someone who has a gun pointed at your face." She let out a huff, part amusement, part annoyance. Laurel always considered herself a somewhat good fighter, but Slade was showing her how wrong she was in her assumptions. "You're not bad, Laurel, and you have spunk. I can appreciate that, but I can't go easy on you. Those men at that camp will not go easy on you." Laurel felt herself give an involuntary flinch at the mention of the camp. Slade noticed and tilted his head a bit as he looked her over.

"I've had the pleasure of meeting some of his men once before, I'm aware of what they can, and will do to me." She pulled herself off of the ground, brushing some dirt off her shoulder.

"I was wondering how you got that uniform. I figured that Yao Fei might have stolen one from the camp. I guess that was a mistake on my part?" Laurel took a deep breath.

"Yao Fei was trying to teach me how to use a bow and arrow. I sucked, by the way. I went to go fetch the arrow when I got grabbed. They took me to the camp where Fyers' himself interrogated me. He asked me how I got here, which I answered honestly, but then he showed me a picture of Yao Fei and asked if I knew him. I said no. He told me I was a good liar, but that he didn't believe me. He sent in one of his men to-" She paused, a shiver going down her spine at the memory of that man's hands on her. Of him inside her. "To try to jog my memory. I was tortured and – and raped, but I didn't tell that man a fucking thing because I owed my life to Yao Fei. He ended up rescuing me, but then got captured himself a few days later. I killed one of Fyers' men and stole his uniform to try and break Yao Fei out. As you can see, I failed." Laurel lifted her gaze, her dark green eyes meeting Slade's dark brown. There was a crease between his eyes that she was beginning to realize was his 'not fully concerned but getting there' look.

"One of them-"

"Yes," she answered, voice raspy, knowing where he was going with question. "A few others watched."

"Laurel-"

"Don't," she cut him off sharply. "I don't want sympathy. I want you to teach me how to be a better fighter so we can get off of this fucking island." Slade studied her for a moment before a small, almost proud, smile crawled across his face. "Together," she added after a moment.

"You better continue to pay attention then, huh?" -

"Lian Yu," Slade announced, flattening out an arial shot of the island on a makeshift table in the fuselage. Laurel stood next to him, studying the picture of Purgatory.

"It's bigger than I imagined," she said, head tilting a bit to the side. She had her dark hair braided off to the side, tied off with a loose string she found to keep her hair out of her face. She was honestly half tempted to take one of Slade's knives and chop it all off for convenience, but she'd see how this little plan of theirs worked out first. Not that she could really say her hair was dark anymore. The chocolate waves she used to have now looked brassy and coppery, while her dark blonde roots were growing out. She never wanted a trip to the salon more in her life.

"ASIS took satellite images of the whole island. This is Fyers' main camp," Slade said, pointing at one of the pictures. "Where I was held for almost a year."

"A year? Slade, how the hell are you alive?" He looked over at Laurel with a smirk.

"I'm tougher than you." Laurel rolled her eyes, and then looked back at the map.

"Do you think that's where Yao Fei is being held? We may be able to let him know we found a way off of the island.," she suggested. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Yao Fei behind. He kept her alive and saved her from Fyers' men. She owed him.

"Forget about him." What? "This is the airstrip, and these infrared images show that there are at least ten soldiers guarding the perimeter at any given time."

"Ten too many for you, Slade?" Laurel joked.

"No," he answered bluntly, but was clearly acknowledging her joke because his tone stayed light. "My problem is the guy here. In the tower." Laurel leaned forward to study the picture he was now holding. "It's a PATC. Portable Air Traffic Control Tower. The US government set up these for disaster zones, like Thailand after the tsunami."

"What's the problem?"

"The glass is bulletproof. I can't take out the tower guard with my sniper rifle. If he suspects anything is wrong, he'll radio Fyers and we're cancelled. It will be up to you to take him out. Up close and personal." Slade paused, turning his dark eyes on her. "Are you up for it?" Laurel steeled herself and nodded.

"I can do it."

"There's only one supply plane every three months. We leave tomorrow, or we die soon afterwards."

"I vote we get the fuck off of this island."

"Glad we're in agreement," Slade said, clasping her gently on the shoulder. "Get some sleep. We leave at 0600." Laurel nodded, moving to make herself comfortable on her makeshift bed. "Don't worry, you'll see your boyfriend soon enough." Laurel snorted, shooting the man a look.

"Do you really think I'd stay with him after cheating on me?" Slade shrugged.

"I've known many women who go back to men that have cheated on them."

"Do I seem the type?" Laurel tried to make her question sound light, and tried to sound uninterested, but she knew she was failing. She was genuinely curious if she seemed like one of those girls who forgave their partner for everything.

"You're young," was all Slade said.

"Young automatically means stupid?"

"That's not what I said."

"That's what you implied," she shot back. He let out a loud sigh of irritation, and Laurel was worried that she might have pushed the man too far. "Sorry, I get defensive when it comes to mine and Oliver's relationship."

"Has he cheated on you before?" Laurel shrugged, lying back to get comfortable.

"Possibly. Probably."

"You deserve better than that, Laurel."

"Maybe I'm just waiting for the right guy to sweep me off of my feet." Come on, Slade, take the bait.

"I'm sure you will. We get off of this island tomorrow. You'll find him soon." God damnit, Slade. She just hummed in agreement before turning onto her side, back facing Slade, and let sleep take her quickly.

When Laurel's eyes opened she was standing at the doorway too her room, Oliver and Sara kissing on her bed. Oliver's hand was cupping Sara's jaw as his other hand was creeping up her tank top. Sara's hands were unclasping Oliver's belt, the snapping of the button of his pants following.

She couldn't believe this was happening. Right in front of her? The two pulled away and looked at her, both smiling brightly.

"Morning," Sara cooed.

"Please don't hate us," Oliver begged.

"Why would I hate you?" She found herself questioning.

"For cheating on you with Sara," he said.

"Did it hurt, big sister?" Sara questioned, now standing in front of Laurel. Laurel jerked back a bit.

"Did what hurt?"

"When they killed you," the two said in unison as blood dripped down Laurel's forehead and between her eyes.

Laurel jerked awake with a gasp, striking out on instinct. A large, warm hand grasped her wrist to halt her movements, and she looked around with wide hazel-green eyes. "Sorry," she apologized when she realized it was Slade she almost hit. He didn't seem bothered by it, probably used to nightmares himself.

"It's time, kid." As soon as Laurel climbed out of her makeshift bed, Slade tossed two bags at her and slung a rifle over his shoulder. Laurel saw him studying the half black, half orange mask before tossing it back down. She was glad, as that mask still gave her nightmares. "Come on, we're moving out." She nodded, hefting one of the bags higher on shoulder to make it more comfortable before following him out of the fuselage.

Laurel was glad she was able to keep pace with the man, even though she was winded. Slade stopped them both with a held up hand, and he looked around for a moment before relaxing.

"All clear." The two stepped forward to continue on their way when Slade reached out and gripped her around the waist tightly, tugging Laurel towards him.

"What's wrong?" She questioned, noticing him looking at something on the ground. She followed his line of sight to see something metallic peeking out under some brush and dirt. "Is that what I think it is?" She questioned, voice shaking. She was a second away from stepping on that thing. If Slade hadn't seen it –

"Yeah, it's a mine."

"The soldiers mined the island?"

"No," he disagreed. "It's probably Japanese left over from World War II."

"Do you think it's still active?" Slade shrugged and then turned his head sharply behind them as rustling was heard from the brush.

"Go," he whispered harshly, tugging on Laurel's arm to get her in front of him, and then pushed her forward. They tried to make as little noise as possible as they continued on their way, but the sound of an explosion and then echoing screams had Laurel turning back around in surprise.

"Guess it was still active," she commented dryly.

"Less of Fyers' men to worry about, too," Slade added.

"How many do you think it took out?"

"Hard to say – could've only been one, might have been three."

The trek towards the airstrip took all day, and they finally decided to rest for a bit. Laurel had scoured around, looking for leaves and sticks to get a small fire going as the island was prone towards getting cold at night. She was looking around for small, smooth rocks so she could get a fire started. Slade cleared his throat, making Laurel look up at him. He held up a lighter, waving it softly with a smirk.

"You think this might help?" He questioned in his deep, Australian voice. Laurel frowned, snatching the lighter out of his hand.

"How long were you going to let me look for flint rocks before telling me about this?" He shrugged, the smirk never fading.

"Until I felt like I was amused enough, I suppose."

"Funny," she huffed, lighting one of the larger sticks on fire, and then dropping it into the pile until a small fire started. She tossed the lighter back to Slade, who caught it easily before sitting down next to her on an overturned tree. "What's the first thing you're going to do when you get home?" She questioned suddenly.

"I'm going to go see my son." Laurel blinked over at him, surprised.

"You have a son?" Slade nodded.

"Yes, his name is Joe. I'd say he's about thirteen now." The air around them crackled with something; something that neither of them were going to comment on quite yet. "What are you going to do when we get off of this goddamned island?"

"Break up with Oliver to his face, maybe punch him, but only after I give my mom and dad a hug. I feel bad that Oliver and his younger sister won't get to see their dad, again."

"Right, he drowned when the yacht sank," Slade nodded in remembrance.

"No, he shot himself in the head. We made it to a life raft – Mister Queen, the captain, and I. There wasn't enough water for all three of us, so Mister Queen shot the captain and then himself so I'd have a fighting chance. I don't know how I'm going to be able to look his family in the eyes."

"It wasn't your fault that he made that decision, Laurel," Slade said calmly, turning a bit so he was facing her. Laurel copied his movement so they were looking at each other.

"I know it wasn't, but I'll still feel bad knowing that his family lost him, but mine will get me back." Laurel looked back up into Slade's dark brown, almost black, eyes and let her own map out each part of his face. He truly was not someone that Laurel would usually go for. She loved the pretty boys like Oliver, Tommy Merlyn, Max Fuller. Slade was not pretty by any means. He was ruggedly handsome with rough hands calloused by hard labor. Callouses that people like Oliver, Tommy, and Max would never know.

"Slade?" She questioned in a soft tone, moving forward a bit.

"Hm?"

"The mask you have – why is it the same as the man who tortured me at Fyers' camp?" His eyes skirted across her face, darting down to her lips once before meeting her gaze head on.

"His name is William Wintergreen – Billy – and he and I were partners. ASIS sent us here to bring Yao Fei Gulong home. When Fyers' captured us, he gave us both the opportunity to either join him or die. I refused, and Billy joined." He paused for a moment, his eyes glazing over from the memories as he stared at nothing over Laurel's shoulder. "He was Joe's god father." Laurel inhaled sharply at that, and she felt her eyes tear up in sympathy for the man standing in front her. Yes, she felt betrayed by Oliver and Sara, but she couldn't even imagine what Slade must have felt. She reached up slowly, making sure he saw the move coming so he could stop her if he wanted. Her hand cupped his cheek gently, thumb grazing over his cheekbone.

"I'm sorry he did that to you, Slade. You didn't deserve to be betrayed like that."

"And you didn't deserve what Billy did to you at that camp." Laurel felt a phantom pain across her back, remembering the sword that Wintergreen took such glee gliding through her skin. She looked back into Slade's eyes, and wondered if – when- they made it off of the island, would they keep in contact? Was their friendship tethered only to the island? She had only known him for a few weeks, but Laurel wasn't sure she'd ever be able to part with him.

"I have your back, Slade," Laurel promised softly, letting her hand finally drop from his face. "I won't let you down." She could see the clear hesitation in his eyes and knew that he wouldn't believe her until she proved it to him.

That's exactly what she was going to do.

Later that night, Laurel and Slade crouched behind some crates near the airstrip, and Slade pointed at the tower. "If you let him radio camp, we're done," he warned. He pulled out one of his swords and handed it to Laurel.

"What about the others?"

"You worry about your one, and I'll worry about my ten." Laurel rolled her eyes but nodded and moved away from Slade. She ducked behind a car, pulling the balaclava down that she had previously stolen from the soldier she killed. She watched as Slade took down two of the soldiers with ease, looking as if he wouldn't even break a sweat.

Laurel turned her attention from Slade's from taking down soldier after soldier while she crept closer and closer to the tower. A soldier was coming down the tower stairs, so she crouched behind some crates and waited as Slade noticed him, too, and took the man out quickly. Laurel made her move and traveled up the steps quickly and quietly, slipping through the control room door. She shut the door behind her as quietly as possible and saw a man sitting at a desk with headphones on. She crept up on the man, sliding the sword Slade had handed her earlier out from behind her.

She was noticed as soon as the man caught her reflection in the large window in front of him, and the soldier shot out of his chair, turning quickly. It was in vain, though. As soon as he turned, Laurel cut him down with her sword. The recently sharpened blade slid through the man's shoulder and neck like butter, and pre-island Laurel would've been nauseated at the sight. Island Laurel, however, was stone cold at her kill.

The soldier choked, head teetering to the side as blood sprayed across Laurel's face in a warm mist. She blinked away the memories of a boat and survive when she last had blood sprayed in her face. This wasn't the time for a flashback. She could panic on the plane on her way to safety. Not now. Not on the island. She learned quickly that there was no room for a panic attack. The man's head continued its trek to the side, tearing the slice in his neck further before his eyes glazed and turned dead as he collapsed to the floor.

"Good job." Laurel spun, raising her sword in a defensive position until she realized the speaker was Slade. She dropped her sword and the two shared soft smiles. "I'm going to go make sure that everything is clear. Stay here, keep the door locked, and do not let anyone in except for me," he ordered. Laurel nodded.

"You got it." Slade grabbed the gun from the holster on the dead soldier's hip, checked the mag and then handed it towards her.

"Here, keep this." She nodded again, and took it, letting the familiar weight of a handgun ground her. As soon as he left, Laurel locked the door behind him, and waited. She glanced over at the phone on the desk, itching to pick it up and call someone, but she couldn't take that chance. Not when it wasn't only her life on the line, but Slade's as well. A couple of minutes later, there was a knock on the door. "Laurel, it's just me." She opened the door, letting Slade back in, who locked the door again.

"Island tower, this is Skyhawk 801Fotrot. We are 700 kilometers southeast of your position. ETA, three hours, twenty-two minutes, over." Laurel's head whipped around to look at the radio as it blared to life. She and Slade both rushed over, Slade grabbing the microphone.

"Island tower, 801Foxtrot. Acknowledged." There was no answer, and Laurel looked worriedly over at him. "Skyhawk 801Foxtrot. Acknowledged."

"Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth," was the response. Slade frowned.

"Is that a challenge code?" Laurel questioned in confusion.

"Skyhawk 801Foxtrot, please repeat," Slade requested over the microphone.

"Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth," the person over the radio repeated.

"Wonder why they chose The Odyssey," Laurel mused.

"You recognize this?" Laurel nodded.

"Say 'nothing is bred, that is weaker than man'," she said, quoting the book.

"Are you sure about this? Because if you're wrong, this plane will turn around."

"Yes, Slade! I'm positive," she promised. His dark eyes searched her hazel ones, before lifting the microphone back to his mouth, not breaking his gaze with hers.

"'Nothing is bred, that is weaker than man'," he repeated.

"Roger that. Be there in a few hours. Over and out." Both of them sighed out in relief, Laurel leaning slightly into Slade's large form.

"The Odyssey?"

"It's pretty good book," she smiled. "You should read it sometime." There was silence for a few seconds before Laurel, not able to contain herself any longer, threw herself in Slade's arms. He caught her easily, a bit surprised, before Laurel silenced any question he was about to ask by pressing her lips against his softly before pulling away. "We're getting off of this goddamned island." His eyes seemed to soften as his grip around her tightened.

"Yeah, we are," he murmured back just as softly before initiating the next kiss. His lips were chapped and dry from the salty ocean air, and she bet that her's were the same, but neither of them seemed to care. She had grown to care about this gruff man in the past couple of months, and she knew that he felt the same now. She could feel it in his kiss and from the way one of his large hands splayed across her back possessively. "You'll be on your way home soon, Laurel," he said, pulling back a bit. Laurel frowned at his wording, pulling back some more, just enough to look into his eyes.

"Why does that sound like you aren't coming with me?"

"I'll be coming with you," he soothed. "After I radio in an air strike on this location. I'm going to send Fyers and all of his men straight back to hell."

"What about Yao Fei?" Laurel questioned. "He's still out there."

"He's not my concern," Slade shrugged.

"He's the whole reason you're here, Slade. Don't you want to complete your initial mission?"

"The mission has changed, Laurel. Edward Fyers is a mercenary, and he is not on this island by mistake. He has plans for Lian Yu, and they involve Yao Fei. Whatever they are, they must end." Laurel bit her bottom lip in concern. She understood where Slade was coming from, and she understood his line of reasoning. But, Yao Fei saved her life numerous times, and he led her to Slade.

"Slade," she sighed, pulling back.

"Laurel, do not do what I think you're about to do."

"I have to. I have a debt to pay. Yao Fei saved my life so many times, and I owe it to him to save his, too, if I can," she said, checking the gun she had stuffed in the back of her tactical pants, taking the safety off. "I can't leave him here to die." She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his once more, possibly for the last time if things went south.

"Laurel-"

"If I don't make it back, take this place out by any means necessary, and please find my family and tell them that I loved them. And tell Sara that I forgive her." He just stared at her in disbelief. "Slade, please," she pleaded. He finally nodded.

"Okay. But, you will make it back here with or without Yao Fei. You have three hours." She nodded back before making her way out of the tower and into the woods.

It took Laurel longer than she liked to make it to Fyers' camp, hiding behind cars as she made her way through the camp. She avoided soldiers, weaving her way around the darkness of the camp when she noticed Yao Fei walking into one of the tents. She followed carefully and went to the back of the tent before making her way inside. Yao Fei stood up in shock when he noticed her.

"How did you make it back here?"

"Slade and I found a way off of the island," Laurel whispered. "We have to go now."

"No," Yao Fei whispered back harshly.

"What? This is our chance! Why are you staying here?" She questioned, confused and becoming a bit irritated.

"They have her," he whispered back before the tent opened revealing Fyers stepping inside. Yao Fei reared back, and punched Laurel in the face. As darkness clouded her vision and she fell to the ground in a heap, only one thought was going through her head. Fuck you, Yao Fei.