"Wait, so that's how Dig found out you were the Arrow? He got poisoned?" Rene questioned in disbelief.
"What, did you expect that Oliver just came out and told him?" Dinah asked him incredulously.
"Well, yeah, kinda," Rene admitted.
"I wasn't too open back then," Oliver defended himself.
"Back then?" Curtis teased.
Oliver just rolled his eyes at his team's antics.
"Well, I just think it's funny that Dig found out because you saved him, and I found out because I saved you," Felicity giggled. "I mean, you'd look at the two of us and think the exact opposite."
Oliver gave her an amused smile.
John shifted in his seat. "If no one has any pressing questions or arguments, I say we move on," he said.
Oliver looked over to William. "How're you doin', Bud?" he asked gently.
William looked over at him and nodded in reassurance. Oliver looked back at John and gave him silent permission to continue.
Diggle stares at Oliver, not fully comprehending. "Oliver?" he gasps out.
Oliver nods. Diggle manages to stand, staggering slightly. "You're that vigilante," he observes in astonishment.
Oliver doesn't seem to know how to respond, but he doesn't have to, because Diggle suddenly swings at him. However, he's still weak. Oliver ducks under the punch and Diggle stumbles forward, catching himself on the desk. "Easy, Dig," Oliver says calmly. "You were poisoned."
"Son of a b****," Diggle growls and lunges towards Oliver again. He falls short and almost hits his face into the floor. Oliver catches him and shoves him towards the table. Diggle leans against it, catching his breath.
"I could have taken you anywhere," Oliver says firmly. "I could have taken you home. I brought you here."
Diggle just stares at him, incredulous. "You really did lose your mind on that island," he accuses.
"John!" Felicity exclaimed.
"I was shot, poisoned, and just found out that the guy I'm supposed to be protecting is more capable of taking care of himself than I am, not to mention the fact that he's the vigilante the police have been looking for," Diggle defended himself. "I wasn't exactly at my best."
"It's fine," Oliver said, to console both Felicity and Dig. "It was a long time ago."
"Found a couple things along the way," Oliver returns.
"Like what, archery classes?" Diggle says condescendingly.
"Clarity," Oliver answers. "Starling City is dying. It is being poisoned by a criminal elite who don't care who they hurt, as long as they maintain their wealth and power."
"What are you gonna do?" Diggle scoffs. "Take 'em all down by your lonesome?"
"No," Oliver says quietly. "No," he repeats louder. "I want you to join me."
"Really?" Curtis asked. "That was your pitch?"
Oliver shrugged. "I still was very out of practice with the whole 'talking normally to other normal human beings' thing," he defended himself.
"Special forces out of Kandahar," Oliver continues. "It's perfect. You're a fellow soldier."
"Oliver, you're not a soldier," Diggle scoffs.
"Are you a soldier?" Benji asked.
"I have been," Oliver answered. "Not now, and not then, but I have been. Technically, he wasn't a soldier then either, so I had just as much right to say it as he did."
Diggle manages to walk closer to Oliver. "You're a criminal," he accuses. "And a murderer."
He stumbles towards the stairs, holding his arm, as Oliver stares after him, emotionless.
"Well, that didn't go well," Beth observed.
Later, Oliver has returned to the mansion. The house is mostly dark as he enters through the front door, just a few lamps illuminating the foyer. He walks to the steps, but only makes it up a few before Laurel appears behind him. "Where were you?" she asks.
Oliver stops and turns around. "What?" he asks, almost disbelieving.
He sighs. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard about the shooting and I wanted to make sure you were okay," Laurel answers.
"You did?" Oliver asks, surprised.
"Yeah," she answers like it's obvious. "I knocked on the door and I found a family terrified for you. They had no idea where you were."
"Oh," Oliver says, like he just remembered.
He closes his eyes and leans against the pillar at the bottom of the stairs. "Oliver," Laurel says, annoyed, "are you so self-centered that you don't think that the people who care about you are gonna wonder where you are after you all got shot at?"
Oliver walks to her. "You're right," he says, defeated.
"I made peace with your selfishness a long time ago," Laurel tells him angrily. "But Moira, Thea, and Walter, they don't deserve that. They deserve better. Someone who doesn't care only about himself."
She walks away. "Laurel?" Oliver calls after her gently.
She stops and turns around. "Thank you for coming," he says sincerely.
"I care about the lives of other people, Oliver," she says tiredly. "Maybe you should try it sometime."
She leaves without another word, and Thea comes up from behind Oliver. Oliver tilts his head back and closes his eyes. "Oh, man," he mutters.
"That was harsh," Thea says quietly, coming closer to stand next to him. "You okay?"
"Sure," Oliver says, looking at the floor. "Second time tonight that a friend of mine has taken me to the woodshed."
He looks at her. "Kinda tires you out."
She nods in sympathy. "Goodnight," Oliver says quietly.
"Goodnight," she answers, and puts a hand on Oliver's shoulder. He continues past her and walks slowly and tiredly up the stairs.
Later that night, he lays in bed, tossing and turning, and muttering in his sleep. The screen flashes back to the island, where, back in Yao Fei's cave, he pulls a picture of Laurel out of his wallet. Yao Fei walks in with a bird trapped in some sort of homemade cage. He walks towards Oliver, who flinches away from him, but Yao Fei just sets the cage down next to him. Oliver stares at it. "Shengcun," Yao Fei says, pointing to it.
"Survive," Oliver translated.
"What am I supposed to do with that?" Oliver asks.
"Shengcun," Yao Fei repeats.
"Does that mean 'bird'?" Oliver asks.
Yao Fei crouches down and drinks some water. "Shengcun!" he shouts.
"I don't speak Chinese!" Oliver yells back.
Yao Fei pulls out a knife and walks to another part of the cave. Oliver looks back down at the picture of Laurel. "I'm sorry, Laurel," he says quietly. "I'm so sorry."
In his bedroom, Oliver quickly sits up, panting. He closes his eyes and lets out a sharp breath through his nose. Downstairs, Thea is watching the news on the couch and eating chips. "There were no signs of forced entry or any evidence of a struggle, but hours later the police found a blood-stained kitchen knife in the trunk…" the man on the TV is saying as Oliver descends the stairs, dressed in a robe, and joins her.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Thea asks him.
"Nope," Oliver answers, putting an arm around the couch behind her shoulders. "What are you watching?"
"Peter Declan," Thea answers.
"Hm?" Oliver asks.
"A guy who killed his wife," Thea says.
Oliver just looks at her questioningly. "Right," she says, remembering that he wouldn't know anything about it. "This guy killed his wife in their baby's room. Psycho."
"Camille was everything to me," Declan states in archive footage. "I couldn't kill her anymore than I could kill myself."
Thea turns the TV off. "Why can't you sleep?" she asks.
"Bad dreams," Oliver answers.
"About?" Thea prods him.
"Laurel," Oliver answers after a moment.
He looks over at her. "So why don't you make a play?" Thea asks. "I mean, she did come over here just to make sure you didn't get shot."
Oliver tilts his head back and forth, considering. "There are reasons," he says.
"Mm, what are they?" Thea asks. "Besides you sleeping with her sister, and her sister dying, and her father hating your guts, and you basically being a jerk to everybody since you've been back."
"Those are the top ones," Oliver says, raising his eyebrows at her.
Thea smiles, enjoying the light teasing that they haven't had in a very long time. Oliver looks away and centers his gaze in front of him. "I know that it might not seem like it sometimes," he says after a moment, "but…"
He sighs. "I'm not the same person I used to be."
He looks over at her. "So show her," Thea advises. "Be yourself. I mean, your new self."
Oliver looks at her, considering.
The next morning, Oliver comes down the stairs and enters the living room to find his mother sitting on the couch reading the newspaper and a man standing at the back of the room, hands clasped in front of him. Oliver stops short. "How did you sleep?" Moira asks, her tone suggesting she's irritated with him.
"Just fine, thank you," Oliver answers.
"Hm," Moira acknowledges.
"We have a visitor," Oliver observes.
"Hm," Moira agrees, still not looking at him. "Mr. Diggle's replacement."
Oliver, who had been slowly walking towards the man, stops again, biting his lip. "Replacement?" he asks.
"Yes," Moira says. "He tendered his resignation this morning."
She finally looks up at him, her anger clear in her eyes and her tone. "Did he say why?" Oliver asks, his own tone displaying his annoyance at the current situation.
"He said he didn't approve of the way you spend your evenings," she answers. "Particularly given that they always begin with you ditching him."
Oliver has had enough of the false politeness and turns his attention from his angry mother to his new bodyguard. "Hi," he says.
"Mr. Queen," the man acknowledges him.
They stride towards each other and shake hands. "Rob Scott," the man introduces himself. "I'll be your new body man."
"That's a firm grip you've got there, Rob," Oliver says with a smile.
"That's five years SWAT with Monument Point MCU," the man answers.
Oliver nods, his lips taught. "I feel safer already," he says, literally lying through his teeth.
Behind him, his mother scoffs at the TV. "Thank G** we don't have to hear about this awful man anymore," she observes.
The TV is once again reporting on Peter Declan. Oliver unmutes the TV. "Declan's execution is set for midnight two days from now," the reporter states. "Camille Declan's former employer, Jason Brodeur, released a statement saying, quote, 'I hope that this gives Camille the peace she deserves.'"
"Jason Brodeur," Oliver repeats.
"What?" Moira asks, her full attention suddenly turning on him.
"The dead wife worked for Jason Brodeur," Oliver answers.
Moira glances at the TV before busying herself with the newspaper again. "Apparently so," she says in a forced calm tone. "What…why?"
"No reason," Oliver says quickly. "Say, Rob, I wanna go into town. Could you please get the car for me?"
"No offense, Mr. Queen, but I have been filled in on your tendency to slip the leash," Rob says smoothly. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer keeping you in my sights at all times."
"We're twenty miles from the city," Oliver says, leaning in conspiratorially. "If you don't drive me, how else am I gonna get there?"
He presses his lips together, squinting at Rob, who nods, his own lips taught. He nods at Moira and leaves. Oliver swings his arms out, shrugging. "I like him," he says lightly, putting the remote down and leaving. Moira looks after him, amused.
Outside, Rob has dutifully gotten the car and is waiting for Oliver…who whizzes past him on a bike. He waves to Rob, who mindlessly waves back until he realizes that his quarry has gotten away from him five minutes into the job. "Hey!" he shouts, running after him, but Oliver revs his bike and disappears down the driveway.
Everyone in the room chuckled at Rob's expense.
In the foundry, Oliver is researching Peter Declan. "They say Peter Declan murdered his wife in cold blood," Oliver says in a voiceover. "He had no alibi. And all the evidence pointed toward it. He was tried, convicted, sentenced to death. An open and shut case, except for one thing. Declan's wife Camille worked for Jason Brodeur. And Jason Brodeur is on the list."
"So wait," the D.A. interrupted. "Did you have every single name in that book memorized?"
"No," Oliver answered. "Actually, it would have saved me a lot of trouble if I had. But there are certain names that I did remember because I had something to connect them to. My father and Jason Brodeur had been a part of a big business deal when I was 13. Dad was only home for enough time to sleep for about two weeks. He missed my first orchestra concert. I was mad at him for days."
"How would it have saved you trouble if you had?" she persisted.
"Because Isabel Rochev was on the list," Oliver said after a moment, looking away from her and at Felicity, then Diggle.
Felicity covered her mouth. "I knew we should have continued pursuing the list after the Undertaking," she moaned. "If I had researched the rest of the names, then by the time you came back we could have taken them all down within weeks."
"So you're telling me that your father warned us about Isabel before she ever showed up in Starling, and we didn't know about it because we foolishly assumed that since the Undertaking was over, these guys weren't worth going after anymore?" Diggle exclaimed.
"Yes," Oliver said darkly. "It was literally staring us right in the face. Even after she got involved in the company, we still could have taken her down before she died the first time."
"And then turned into an evil superpowered, growly, annoying…" Felicity ranted.
"Felicity," Oliver interrupted.
"When did you find this out?" Diggle asked.
"Why didn't you tell us this earlier?" Felicity added.
"I found out when I went back to look at Dad's book after I held the press conference about him being accused of murder," Oliver answered. "I needed a reminder that Dad wasn't a…a villain, he was just…misguided. So I went back and I looked at the names, and then I saw her there. I don't know if she was actually involved with Merlyn, or if Dad just put her there because of the potential she had to completely destroy my family, but she was there."
"I swear, it's like some really powerful being has it out for you," Diggle griped. "Barry, are you sure there's no evil speedster running around orchestrating things so that the Queen family is connected to every horrible person in the multiverse?"
"As sure as I can be about an evil time traveling speedster," Barry answered. "Of course, the multiverse is quite large."
"Are you saying there's actually a multiverse?" a young man stood up excitedly.
Oliver turned and gave him a questioning look. "I'm Jackson Brown," he introduced himself. "I'm a grad student at SCU, studying quantum physics. But I thought that the multiverse was all theoretical."
"It's real," Barry answered. "I've been to other earths. Actually, a lot of the people here have been to other earths. Ollie and his team have met multiple people from other earths. We actually have a member of our team who's from Earth-2. He's back in Central holding down the fort. By the way, dark matter is also real, and we have ways to detect it. Plenty of things that were previously theoretical have now just become a walk in the park for all of us. Just wait until we get to the part where I try and explain to Oliver that I traveled in time."
Jackson's eyes widen. "Cool," he breathed, and sat back down, overwhelmed by the ideas surging through his head.
"Are we good?" John asked.
Oliver nodded.
At Brodeur's house, a man is looking at a paper reporting on Declan's upcoming execution. He looks up as Brodeur joins him. "Mr. Brodeur," he acknowledges.
"Admiring your handiwork, Ankov?" Brodeur asks.
"You should have just let me kill both of 'em," Ankov answers.
"Peter Declan is worth more alive," Brodeur counters. "'Husband Kills Wife' is a much better headline than 'Whistle-Blower Uncovers Toxic Dumping,' don't you think? Either way, 48 hours, all this'll be over."
"Wow," the D.A. breathed. "I can't believe the justice system got it so wrong."
"I appreciate the merits of the American justice system," Oliver began, "but it is easy to manipulate, Ms. Spencer, given the proper resources. No one on the investigation was at fault. Brodeur and his men were just that good."
In the foundry, Oliver is making arrows.
"You make those yourself?" Clay asked, intrigued.
"Less easy to track you off your arrows if you aren't buying arrows," Oliver shrugged. "Besides, if I'm going to trust something with my life, I'd prefer to make it myself."
"The odds are good that Brodeur is involved in this woman's murder," Oliver states in a voiceover, "which means an innocent man is facing execution. He'll need a good attorney."
He pulls an old, beat up photo of Laurel out of his wallet – the same photo that he was looking at in Yao Fei's cave in the island.
"That survived all five years that you were gone?" the judge asked incredulously. "You managed not to lose it?"
"I did," Oliver answered shortly.
He didn't know if the judge was being blackmailed into working for Diaz or if he was one of Diaz' men from the beginning, and either way, he didn't trust the man one bit.
The screen cuts to Laurel and Jo at CNRI.
"Of course, you're gonna go to Laurel," Thea said, amused. "You know, she's a smart woman. You're lucky she never figured it out."
"I know," Oliver answered.
"So, I take it there's absolutely no point in asking if you'd like to grab a drink?" Jo asks her as Laurel is looking through some files.
"I can't," Laurel answers absentmindedly. "I have to go over transcripts for the Fernands case."
Jo stares at her incredulously for a moment. "You know," she starts, "if you go somewhere that's not work or your home, your odds of meeting someone increase by, like, a gazillion percent."
"Oh, that's not true," Laurel answers, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I could still get mugged on the way home."
"In that case, I hope he's cute and single," Jo teases.
"Goodnight, Joanna," Laurel says lovingly but firmly, walking out.
Laurel enters her apartment and tries to turn on the lights, but the switch doesn't work. One of her windows is open. Laurel, now on her guard, pulls a gun out of a drawer and cocks it. She hears a sound behind her and whirls around, aiming the gun. It's the Hood. Oliver is holding a device, which he clicks on. When he speaks, his voice is modulated. "Hello, Laurel," he says.
He takes a step towards her. "Don't move!" Laurel shouts, still aiming the gun.
Oliver holds up his bow, showing it to her. He slowly shifts it to his other hand. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he says quietly.
"Stay back," Laurel says firmly. "My father's a cop. You are making a huge mistake."
"I'm not the person you think I am," Oliver says. "And I need your help. Peter Declan is gonna be executed in 48 hours. I think he's innocent. Declan's wife was gonna blow the whistle on Jason Brodeur. Brodeur had her murdered."
"There are a thousand lawyers in Starling City," Laurel answers, less forcefully. "Why me?"
Oliver has now gotten close enough to reach her, and he slowly puts his hand over the gun, lowering it. "We're both trying to help," he answers, walking past her and standing behind her.
"What makes you so sure I'm gonna help you?" Laurel demands, turning her head towards him, but still facing away.
"Because I know you'd do anything to save the life of an innocent man," Oliver answers simply, and vanishes into the shadows.
"Man, that is really creepy," Benji stated.
The next day at Iron Heights, Laurel is meeting with Peter Declan. "A jury has found you guilty, Mr. Declan," she states.
Declan is looking at a picture of a little girl, presumably his daughter. "The evidence was stacked against me," he admits. "But I didn't kill my wife. I didn't take my daughter's mother from her."
"The murder weapon was a knife from your kitchen, with your prints on it," Laurel continues. "It was found, along with Camille's blood, in the trunk of your car."
Declan stands up and whirls around to the window. "Your neighbors said they heard an argument that night," Laurel continues louder.
"We had a knockdown fight over Jason Brodeur," Declan answers, turning to her. "Camille worked for him, and his company had been dumping toxic waste into the Glades. Camille told me that she'd gone and told a supervisor about it. I was afraid for my family's safety. And we argued. Very loudly, yes! Izzy started crying. So Camille went and stayed in her room."
He sighs and sits back down at the table. "In the morning, I went to apologize, and, uh…that's when I found her. So I just grabbed Izzy and I ran outside and I called 911. I'm innocent, Ms. Lance."
Laurel nods.
At Queen Consolidated, Moira walks into Walter's office. "Well, it looks like someone forgot a lunch date with his wife," she says teasingly.
"What do you mean?" Walter asks, confused. "Lunch isn't for another…"
He looks at his watch and stops. Moira gives him a triumphant grin. "45 minutes ago," he says, defeated, whipping off his glasses. "I'm so sorry."
"It's all right," Moira says, amused. "The restaurant is holding our table. Is there something wrong?"
"Compliance Department has tagged something," Walter answers. "$2.6 million withdrawal from one of our Vancouver subsidiaries."
"What…" Moira stutters. "Do you mean, are you saying that someone embezzled $2.6 million from the company?"
"Well, it's probably a bookkeeping error," Walter consoles her, "but Compliance is understandably worried about an IRS audit."
Moira nods in agreement. Walter walks past her and grabs his jacket. Moira stares off into space. "But don't worry," Walter assures her. "I'm sure it's nothing. Come on, we're gonna be late. I mean, later."
Moira smiles and they walk out together.
At SCPD, Laurel is staring at the Hood sketch that Oliver made. It's pinned to their corkboard. "Well, I wasn't the lead on this," Lance tells her, walking out of a side room with a folder, "but from what I recall, we had fingerprints, we had blood, we got motive, everything."
He sits down on his desk and Laurel joins him, looking over at the folder. "Brodeur seems like the type of guy with the resources needed to frame someone," she observes.
"Laurel, in 24 hours, Peter Declan is lying down with a needle in his arm and he's not getting up," Lance tells her. "If I thought for a second we didn't have the right guy, do you think there's anything else I'd be doing right now except trying to get at what really happened?"
"Declan said his wife went to her supervisor with allegations that Brodeur was dumping toxic waste," Laurel says.
"Yeah," Lance agrees, "but that supervisor, he said that never happened."
He takes the folder from her and looks through it. "Let me see, what was his name…There you go," he says triumphantly. "Istook, Matt Istook. He said he didn't even see Camille that day. Happy now?"
"Yes," Laurel says, smiling.
She leaves, putting a hand on his knee. "You know, I thought it'd be a cold day in hell before you started defending criminals," he calls after her.
"I'm not so sure Declan's a criminal," Laurel answers. "Like you said, he's on a clock. Can't leave any stone unturned."
She leaves, and Lance sighs. "Oh yeah," he mutters to himself.
There are titters around the room, as all those who are parents can sympathize with Lance's predicament.
Diggle is sitting in a booth at Big Belly Burger, his arm in a sling. Carly comes over to him and gives him a basket of fries and a burger. "So when are you gonna tell me?" she asks, leaning against the booth and putting her other hand on her hip.
"Hm?" Diggle asks, munching on his fries.
"About what happened to your arm," Carly prods.
"Oh, it's my shoulder, and it's, it's fine," Diggle answers.
"I knew that Queen guy was trouble," she says, annoyed.
"Hey, I never said this happened protecting Queen," Diggle counters.
Oliver chooses that moment to enter the restaurant with his new bodyguard. "Oh yeah?" Carly challenges. "Then what's he doing here?"
Diggle turns quickly and sees Oliver heading towards him. Rob turns to him. "Area is secure, sir," he says.
"Thank you very much, Rob," Oliver says cheerfully, his public persona in full display.
He walks to Diggle's booth and is given quite the look by Carly. "Hello, Diggle's sister-in-law Carly," Oliver says, holding out his hand.
They shake hands, Carly giving him an obviously fake smile. "I'm Oliver Queen," Oliver introduces himself.
"I know who you are," she answers.
"No, you really don't," Diggle puts in from behind.
Carly gives him one last glare and moves off. Oliver sits in the booth across from Diggle. "Hello," he says.
Diggle shoves his fries into the center of the table, wordlessly offering them to him. Oliver looks down. When he looks back up at him, his fake persona is gone. "I couldn't help but notice a distinct lack of police cars when I got home," he observes. "I knew you wouldn't drop a dime on me. So, have you considered my offer?"
"Offer?" Diggle raises his eyebrows and scoffs. "That's one h*** of a way to put it."
"It is an offer," Oliver counters. "It's a chance to do the kind of good that compelled you to join the military."
"Please," Diggle scoffs. "You were born with a platinum spoon in your mouth, Queen. What, you spent five years on an island with no room service and suddenly you found religion?"
Oliver sighs and pulls the book out of his pocket, slamming it onto the table in front of Diggle. "This was my father's," he explains.
Diggle looks calculatingly at him for a moment, then picks up the book, flipping through it. Oliver takes it back. "I found it when I buried him," he says in a bitter tone.
He folds his hands in front of him. "I thought you said your father died when the boat went down?" Diggle questions.
Oliver turns his head away from Diggle, unable to look him in the eye. "We both made it to a life raft but there wasn't enough food and water for both of us so he shot himself in the head," he says in a rush, as if hurrying to get the words out before he couldn't.
Diggle sits back, looking at Oliver in a new light. Oliver flicks his eyes back to Diggle's face. "And as much as he was doing it to give me a chance to survive, I believe that he was also atoning for his sins," Oliver says more slowly, enunciating his words almost too much. "I need to right the wrongs done by my family. And I'm offering you the chance to right the wrongs done to yours."
"Oliver, what are you talking about?" Diggle demands.
"The police never caught your brother's shooter," Oliver answers.
"Hey, you leave Andy out of this," Diggle says sharply, pointing a finger at Oliver.
"The bullets were laced with curare," Oliver continues, ignoring Diggle. "That's Floyd Lawton's MO. He is the sniper that I stopped."
Diggle looks at him incredulously. "Are you trying to tell me that you took down Andy's killer?"
"I'm…" Oliver closes his eyes, slowly breathing out. "I'm giving you the chance…a chance…to help other people's families. Do you remember when the people in this city helped each other? They can't do that anymore, because a group of people, people like my father, they see nothing wrong with raising themselves up by stepping on other people's throats. It does need to stop. And if it's not gonna be the courts, and it's not gonna be the cops, then it's gonna be me."
"That's a really good line," Edward acknowledged. "You really know how to make a pitch."
"My father made sure I did," Oliver agreed.
Diggle looks at him calculatingly. "And I hope you," Oliver finishes, and stands up.
Rob immediately comes back. "I'm gonna go to the washroom, Rob," Oliver says, his tone no longer dark. His playboy personal has once again taken over.
Oliver heads off, leaving Rob standing awkwardly next to Diggle's booth. The two look at each other for a moment. "Oh, that boy's long gone, man," Diggle finally says, making a waving motion with his hand. "Whoosh."
Once again, everyone laughs at Rob's expression, and at the ease with which Oliver ditches his bodyguards.
At the mansion, Walter is working in his study. Moira walks in. "You still following the money trail?" she asks.
"Mmhm," Walter mumbles, deep in thought.
"Don't we have accountants for that sort of thing?" Moira questions.
"They're being singularly ineffective in this instance," Walter says dryly.
Moira pours herself a drink. "Well, then," she states, "it's fortunate that I've solved the mystery."
Walter's immediately looks up at her. "I think I'm the culprit," she explains. "$2.6 million is a rather specific figure. That's the exact amount the company invested in a friend's start-up venture three years ago. I will call accounting, they'll clean it all up, and there's nothing to worry about."
"Okay," Walter agrees.
At CNRI, Laurel is pouring over a file. "You really are putting a lot of hours into this Declan thing," Jo observes, joining her. "You actually think he's innocent?"
"Someone does," Laurel says without looking up.
"So you said," Jo agrees, "but you didn't say who."
Laurel looks furtively around and walks closer to Jo. "The guardian angel," she confides.
Jo crosses her arms and looks at her incredulously. "The guy in the hood?" she says. "You're…you're kidding."
"He tracked me down and asked me to look into the Declan case," Laurel explains.
"But you've met him?" Jo asks.
Laurel nods. "But he goes against everything that I was ever taught to believe in," she says. "He breaks the law, and G** knows what else."
"How are you not afraid that he is gonna do G** knows what to you?" Jo demands.
"He won't," Laurel answers. "I don't know. I can feel it."
"You know, when I told you to meet someone, this is far, far away from what I meant," Jo states.
Laurel shrugs.
Later that night, on a rooftop, Laurel and the Hood meet again. "I got your message," Laurel says. "Is there a reason we can't do this face to face?"
"You've met with Peter Declan," Oliver ignores her question.
"You were right," Laurel says. "He might be innocent. Declan said his wife blew the whistle on Brodeur the day she was murdered."
"Then we need to get whoever she told about Brodeur to testify," Oliver says.
"He already has," Laurel informs him. "Matt Istook. Camille's supervisor. Only, he says that she didn't say a word to him."
"He could be lying," Oliver states.
"Well, if he is, then he's very convincing," Laurel returns. "He had the jury and police believing him."
"He hasn't been questioned by me," Oliver counters.
"I didn't become a lawyer to break the law, or hurt anybody," Laurel says.
"I do what's necessary, what people like Peter Declan need," Oliver says.
"If what you're doing isn't wrong, then why are you hiding your face with a hood?" Laurel asks.
"To protect the ones I care about," Oliver answers.
"That sounds lonely," Laurel says.
"It can be," Oliver acknowledges. "But not today."
He whirls around, fires a grappling arrow, and swings off the roof. Laurel watches him swing out of sight in amazement.
At Queen Consolidated, Felicity enters Walter's office. "I've got one question," she says. "Why am I being fired?"
Walter looks up at her. "Miss Smoak, isn't it?" he asks.
"Yes," Felicity confirms. "And I am without a doubt the single most valuable member of your technical division, and that's including my so-called 'Supervisor.' Letting me go would be a major error for this company."
"I agree," Walter says with some amusement, "which is why you're not being fired."
"Uh, I assumed when you brought me up here it was because…" Felicity makes a throat-slitting motion.
Everyone laughed at Felicity's…interesting…characteristics. Oliver looked over at her and kissed her forehead, and she hid in his shoulder, her face turning beet red.
"It's because I wanted you to look into something for me," Walter explains. "The variance of $2.6 million on a failed investment from three years ago. It was authorized by my wife. I was hoping you could find out some of the details of the transaction for me."
Felicity looks at him over her glasses. "Find out…"
"Dig up," Walter clarifies. "Discretely."
Felicity nods in understanding. "I'm your girl," she says with a grin. She turns to go, then turns back as she realizes how that could be interpreted. "I mean, I'm not your girl. I wasn't making a pass at you."
She turns to leave again, then whirls back, again. "Thank you for not firing me."
Walter watches her leave, amused.
Felicity groaned, her face still buried in Oliver's chest. "Save me, please," she moaned.
"No can do, honey," Oliver said with a smile. "Besides, you know how cute I think your ramblings are."
"You're the Green Arrow, it's your job to save people," Felicity argued, looking up and teasingly pouting at him.
"Felicity, to save you from your lack of brain-mouth filter, I'd have to be a speedster like Barry and pull you into flashtime before you even got the words out," Oliver joked.
Felicity looked at Barry pleadingly, and he shook his head vigorously. "Uh, uh," he said quickly. "That is one challenge I am not going to take on. Sorry, Felicity."
"And you people call yourselves superheroes," Felicity teased. "Scared by little old me?"
"Yes!" Oliver, Barry, Sara, Curtis, Rene, Cisco, Ray, and Roy all answered at the same time.
The spectators simply watched the interaction, always interested in seeing their ex-mayor in this environment, as before today, they'd never seen him, or the Green Arrow for that matter, acting like this. They were even more interested that, although these heroes were simply teasing each other, they did all seem to have a great deal of respect and a healthy amount of fear for Felicity. They looked around at each other, silently agreeing that they were interested in seeing what she could do, and what she had done, to garner that type of reaction.
That night, Matt Istook walks to his car to go home, but is shot with a sleeping dart. "What the…" is all he manages to say before collapsing on the ground.
When he wakes up, he is handcuffed to the train tracks, a train announcing its presence in the distance. "Matt Istook," Oliver growls.
"You're him," Matt says, gaping. "That Hood guy. You're the guy that's been terrorizing the city."
"Peter Declan," Oliver ignores his revelation. "Your lies helped put him on death row. Now, either it's time to tell me the truth or it's time for the 10:15 to Bludhaven."
"Oliver!" Felicity screeched, punching his shoulder and ignoring his yelp. "What the heck were you thinking? You can't do that!"
"I wasn't actually gonna do it!" Oliver defended himself. "But it worked!"
"Mr. Queen, where did you learn interrogation techniques like that?" Clay asked, aghast.
"I have a feeling that's not what Laurel wanted you to do when she gave you his name," Thea observed.
"Okay, okay, settle down," Constantine stood up and everyone quieted down. "Oliver will answer Mr. Jergen's question. Oliver?"
Oliver sighed. "I learned interrogation tactics when I was working for A.R.G.U.S.," he answered after a moment. "Amanda Waller was the director of A.R.G.U.S. at that time, and she took a…special interest in me. She was the most…" he stopped, shaking his head and gathering himself. "The worst things that I did while I was away," he began, speaking with visible effort, "the things that I am haunted the most by, were the things that she made me do, the things that I did via her orders or under her watch. And believe me, I'm just as horrified by my actions here as all of you are. I just…especially when I had just returned, it was very hard for me to remember that I was no longer trapped in the same circumstances that I had been for five years. I often fell into old patterns and did things that I regretted later. However, I would ask you to remember that I had no intention of actually leaving the guy there, and I was trying to save an innocent man's life. It was quite literally a life or death situation, even if it doesn't appear so on first glance."
The D.A. glared at him, lips pressed together, but no one said anything else, and John restarted it after a few moments.
"Oh!" Istook gasps. "Okay, okay, I…Brodeur paid me to say that Camille never spoke to me, but, but, I didn't have anything to do with her death. Oh, G**, please, I'll do anything! You can have the file!"
"What file?" Oliver demands.
"Camille gave me a file of evidence against Jason Brodeur," Istook answers.
"Where is it?" Oliver yells.
"Let me go and I'll tell you," Istook tries to bargain.
Oliver doesn't take to kindly to his attempt and steps off the tracks, revealing the lights of the oncoming train. "Wait! Wait! Wait!" Istook screams. "Don't go! Wait! Wait! Wait! Don't go! It's in my desk! The file, it's in my desk at the office! You can have it. Get me out of here!"
He stares at the train, screaming. Oliver fires an arrow at the handcuffs, releasing him, and Istook dives off the tracks just in time. Oliver watches him from the other side as the train goes by, and remembers the island.
Yao Fei is cooking something with a stick over a fire. Oliver is watching him from the cave wall. "What is that?" he asks. "I'm so hungry."
He stands and walks over to the fire. "It smells really good."
He reaches for some of the food, but Yao Fei grabs his hand and twists it, throwing Oliver back and away. Oliver screams in pain. "Hey, fine, don't share," he says grumpily.
"Hey," Yao Fei says.
He points at the bird in the cage and mimes wringing its neck. "Shengcun," he says.
Oliver stares at him for a moment before looking at the bird. "I'm not gonna kill the bird," he protests.
"So wait," the D.A. said. "In five years, you went from a spoiled playboy who refused to kill a bird when you were literally dying of hunger to a murderer who runs around in a hood shooting people with arrows?"
Oliver looked seriously at her. "A lot can change in five years given the right circumstances," he answered darkly.
Yao Fei scoffs. "Shengcun," he repeats.
Oliver just stares at him.
At CNRI, Laurel is hard at work, alone in the office, when the light on her desk, the only light in the room, goes out. She quickly turns around, but turns back even more quickly when a file is dropped on her desk from somewhere above her. She picks up the file. "Compliments of Matt Istook," Oliver says from across the room.
"What's in here?" Laurel asks.
"Leverage on Jason Brodeur," Oliver answers. "Enough to help save Peter Declan's life."
Laurel shakes her head, looking through it. "As an attorney, I never would have gotten a file like this," she says. "I always thought the law was sacred, it, it fixed everything."
"And now, Laurel?" Oliver asks. "Now what do you think?"
"I think there's too many people in this city who only care about themselves," Laurel answers. "People who are selfish. I think they need someone who cares about the lives of other people. Someone like you."
"Well, that's ironic," Rene muttered.
Oliver nods slightly, and backs away into the shadows. A moment later, the lights all turn on, and he's gone.
Back at the mansion, Oliver rounds the table in the foyer. Thea enters and watches him for a moment before making herself known. "Oh, my G**," she teases. "What is wrong with your face?"
"What do you mean?" Oliver asks, turning to her.
"There's something really weird on it," Thea continues. "Like, this think with your mouth. It, it looks like it's in the shape of a smile!"
Oliver's smile gets wider at her teasing. "That's cute," he says with a chuckle.
"So, why are you grinning?" Thea asks.
"I took your advice with Laurel," Oliver answers. "To be myself."
"And?" Thea prompts him.
"It's helping," Oliver answers.
Thea reached forward and whacked Oliver on the head. "That is NOT what I meant, Ollie," she said with mock annoyance.
"I know, Speedy, but at that point in my life, it was the truth," Oliver said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Did you really have to hit me so hard?"
"Lazarus Pit," Thea shrugged, giving him a wink. "Don't know my own strength, you know?"
Oliver mock glared at her.
"Lazarus Pit?" The D.A. questioned.
"Later," Constantine said quickly, stopping any ensuing conversation.
"Got mad relationship skills, Bro," Thea gloats. "Let me know if you need trendy places to propose."
She starts to make her exit. "I think you're getting a little bit ahead of yourself," Oliver teases her right back.
"Eh…" Thea returns, not so sure.
"Little bit," Oliver smiles.
As Thea leaves, the front door slams open and Rob walks through, jacket off, looking exhausted. "Rob," Oliver greets him. "You gotta keep up."
He walks off, leaving Rob staring after him in exasperation.
The next day at CNRI, Laurel is hard at work when Quentin walks in. "Hey, you look busy," he greets her. "Is that the Declan case? You know, there was a funny development on that. Matt Istook, he, uh, filed a police report. He said the Hood harassed him last night, and that's funny, because I gave my daughter Istook's name.
"Dad, I…" Laurel starts, but Lance interrupts.
"He's a vigilante," he growls, leaning forward and getting in her face. "He's a d*** criminal, and you working with him, that makes you an accessory."
"I am trying to save an innocent man's life," Laurel says angrily, standing up.
Lance stands too. "No," he denies. "You're breaking the law."
"Well, I wouldn't have to if the police would have done their job right in the first place," Laurel argues.
"I asked how you got this case, you lied to me, straight to my face," Lance continues. "Eh? I thought you and I didn't do that. Guess I was wrong."
He walks out without another word.
Later, at the courthouse, Laurel is meeting with the judge. "Your Honor, the mere existence of the file proves that Mr. Istook perjured himself for Jason Brodeur's benefit," Laurel argues.
"That's slander," a man says, walking into the room at that moment. "Jared Swanstrom, Your Honor," he introduces himself. "I represent Jason Brodeur and Brodeur Chemical."
"The interest of justice requires you to stay the defendant's execution pending exploration of the newly discovered evidence," Laurel continues, heedless of the disruption.
"Ours isn't a court of justice, Ms. Lance," the judge answers. "It's a court of law. And under the law, I don't think your evidence is sufficient to warrant a stay of execution. Your motion for habeas corpus is denied."
Laurel walks out, passing Brodeur on the way. "This isn't over," she tells him. "I've got the loose end now and no matter what happens I am going to pull on it until your whole world unravels."
She walks out, shoulder-slamming him on her way.
At Brodeur Chemical, Brodeur is freaking out. "Declan's lawyer is pulling me into this," he is telling his men. "I'm gonna go to prison. If not for murder, then this…this dumping thing."
"That won't happen," one of his men assures him. "There are steps we can take."
"You saw her!" Brodeur shouts. "She's going after me!"
"She's gonna want to meet with her client after what happened in court today," the man says. "We have friends up in Iron Heights. Prison can be a dangerous place."
"She shouldn't have threatened Brodeur like that," the D.A. said.
"No," Oliver agreed. "But Laurel was always a bit of a hothead. Ran headfirst into everything and poured her heart and soul into it. This case was personal for her as soon as she met Declan."
That night, Laurel meets the Hood on a rooftop. "We're not done yet," Oliver says.
"I'm an attorney," Laurel counters. "Trust me, we're done."
"What do you need to free Peter Declan?" Oliver asks.
"At this point…" Laurel sighs. "Nothing short of a signed confession from Brodeur."
Oliver walks to the edge of the roof. "Where are you going?" Laurel calls after him.
"To get a confession," Oliver returns.
At Queen Consolidated, Walter and Felicity are deep in conversation. "The company Mrs. Queen, or Steele. Mrs. Queen-Steele. She hyphenate? She seems like a woman who would hyphenate."
Walter looks at her incredulously for a moment, not used to her babbling, and sits down, clearing his throat. "Right," Felicity says, getting herself back on track. "The company she invested in doesn't exist."
"I don't understand," Walter says.
"There was no investment," Felicity explains. "The money was used to set up an offshore LLC called Tempest."
"I don't recall that name being under the Queen Consolidated banner," Walter says slowly.
"'Cause it's not," Felicity agrees. "There's nothing registered with the Secretary of State, no Federal tax records, no patent applications filed. But, in 2009, Tempest purchased a warehouse in Starling City."
Walter holds out his hand for Felicity's files, which she hands over. Walter begins to look through them, and Felicity makes her exit.
At Big Belly Burger, Diggle is staring at a cup of coffee. Carly comes over. "Enough moping," she tells him.
"Mm," Diggle hums noncommittally.
"You quit," she tells him, sitting across from him. "It's done. My advice would be to move on."
"Ah," Diggle answers. "If it were only that easy."
"Except it is," Carly insists. "Personal security is dangerous. Your nephew already lost his father. He can't lose his uncle, too."
Diggle looks at her for a moment, considering. "Does it ever bother you they never caught the guy who killed Andy?" he asks.
Carly just looks at him, a confused frown on her face. "You know," Diggle continues, "when I was in Afghanistan, I had a job, and I did it. And when I could, I would help out the people there so that in some small way, when I left, I could believe I left it a better place. But ever since I've been home, all I do is protect punks and spoiled one-percenters. I miss feeling like I'm making a difference in the world."
"Then get out of personal security and go do something you believe in," Carly says forcefully.
"Yeah, what if it's wrong?" Diggle asks.
"John," Carly says seriously. "If you believe in something, how can it be wrong?"
Meanwhile, Oliver has gone to pay Brodeur a visit. "Jason Brodeur," he growls.
"What do you want?" Brodeur asks fearfully.
"You're gonna confess that you arranged to have Peter Declan's wife murdered," Oliver answers, arrow nocked and ready.
"What, so I can take his place in prison?" Brodeur asks incredulously.
"So you can avoid the death penalty," Oliver answers.
"Except, if I'm dead, well then, you've got no one to pin Camille's murder on," Brodeur argues. "You need me to exonerate Peter Declan. Maybe you could try to force me to sign a confession or something…"
Oliver shoots an arrow through his hand. "That might be difficult," he says dryly as Brodeur screams.
Brodeur's phone rings. "My hand!" Brodeur screams as Oliver pulls his phone out of his pocket and holds it up to him.
"Just answer it," he growls.
He answers the call. "What?" Brodeur asks.
"It's Ankov," the man on the line answers. "It's going down, one hour."
Oliver hangs up. "What's going down in an hour?" he demands.
Brodeur is silent. "What?" Oliver yells.
"Let's just say," Brodeur says, gritting his teeth, "Peter Declan's execution, it's getting moved up."
Oliver lets out a scream of anger and punches him in the face, knocking him out.
At Iron Heights, Laurel is meeting with Declan as predicted. "Okay, you have to listen to me," she says. "We still have a shot. Do you remember the friend that I mentioned, the one who believes in you? He is working on something."
Outside the prison, Oliver drops to the ground behind a guard and takes him out non-lethally. He unzips his jacket, changing into the guard's clothes.
"I told you," Declan is telling Laurel, "Jason Brodeur is powerful."
In another part of the prison, a guard lets Ankov in, and Ankov hands him an envelope full of money. "Time to unlock the cages," he tells him.
"I've been here before," Declan is saying. "These lawyers, holding out these little nuggets of hope."
The guard pulls a lever, triggering an alarm. The lights go out and the emergency lights flicker on. The guard in the room with Laurel and Declan looks out the window, and Laurel follows. There's a riot in the prison. "What?" Laurel asks incredulously.
"Secure all corners in cell block C," Declan's guard's radio sounds.
"The warden's setting up a secure perimeter in C block," he shouts to them. "Stay here, Ms. Lance."
He leaves. "Wait!" Laurel shouts, running after him. Declan follows her.
The prison is a madhouse and the guards are losing. Laurel and Declan run down an empty hallway and into a cell block where the prisoners are beating up a guard. They stop, frozen. A prisoner is threatening them with a knife when he is shot with an arrow. Laurel and Declan whirl around to see Oliver, wearing a prison uniform and a balaclava and holding his bow. "Let's go," he says.
Laurel and Declan make it out of the cell block just in time, but Oliver is caught by a few prisoners. Laurel and Declan stop, watching as he makes quick work of them and catches up. He grabs Laurel's hand, as Laurel grabs Declan's, and Oliver pulls them along. SWAT comes running down the hallway, and Oliver guides them through a side door. "Go, go, go!" he shouts.
They run through a darker part of the prison. A prisoner jumps out and slugs Oliver in the face, and he falls to the ground. The prisoner yanks Laurel away from Declan and throws her against a chain link fence. He then grabs her and throws her to the ground, choking her. Oliver looks around and sees what's happening, his eyes going wide with pure rage. He tackles the prisoner off of her, screaming, and starts pounding on him.
The civilians in the room cringe.
Laurel recovers and pulls Oliver away from the guard. "Stop!" she screams.
Oliver looks at her and seems to regain his sanity. They stare at each other for a moment.
"Wait…what just happened?" The D.A. asked slowly.
"Fog of war," Oliver answered, unknowingly copying the words Lyla told Diggle about Andy two years earlier. "I'm still me under there, and I loved Laurel. When I saw that guy choking her, I was furious. I didn't think, I just acted. If Laurel hadn't stopped me, I would have killed him."
"I've seen it before," Clay put in. "Out in the field, sometimes instincts get muddled with emotions. It's never pretty. Mr. Queen spent five years living off of his instincts, and that combined with the emotion of seeing someone he loved being killed in front of him, something just snapped."
The D.A. nodded, seemingly accepting their explanation. Felicity linked her fingers with Oliver's, and Oliver put an arm around her shoulders, an arm around Raisa's, and rested his hand on William's shoulder, needing to feel connected to his family.
SWAT comes running in the room, shouting orders. "Laurel," Oliver says, so quietly she can barely hear it, and then she runs to the wall to make room for the SWAT team, and Oliver quietly escapes.
Later, Quentin comes running up to Laurel after she was checked out by paremedics. "Laurel," he says, relieved.
She runs to him and they embrace, earlier argument momentarily forgotten. "Oh, sweetie," Quentin consoles her.
Eventually, she pulls back. "What are you…" Lance holds up his hands helplessly.
"I'm all right," she says.
"You sure?" Quentin asks.
"I'm sorry about what I said to you," she apologizes.
"You were right," Quentin tells her. "Brodeur's bodyguard just confessed to Camille Declan's murder. We got the wrong guy. Now, listen to me, Laurel. I'm right, too, about him. He's dangerous. He's outside the law."
"I know," she says. "He's a killer. He would have killed that man."
The camera zooms out to show Oliver on a nearby roof, watching and listening. He slowly takes off the balaclava, letting his true face show for the first time since he'd been back.
"I looked into his eyes," Laurel continues. "It's like he had no remorse."
Off Oliver's stricken, remorseful face, the screen goes back to the island, where Oliver is still staring at the bird. "Hey," he says weakly to Yao Fei. "Please. I'm starving."
Yao Fei ignores him. "I never killed anything before," Oliver pleads.
He stares at Yao Fei, who is continuing on without so much as a glance at him. Then, slowly, he uses his other arm to move his injured one, lifting the cage and taking the bird out. He stares down at it. "I'm sorry," he whispers.
He looks away and wrings its neck, cringing, his eyes filling with tears. He lets out a choked sob as the bird shrieks before dying. He stares at his hand, shaking.
The screen flashes back to Oliver staring sadly at Laurel from above.
There was not a dry eye in the room. Even the people who didn't like Oliver were still affected by the moment when Oliver began his journey from an innocent, sensitive boy to a cold, hard, lethal man. From someone who sat for days with his hunger rather than kill a bird to someone who had killed people without blinking an eye. For the first time, many people thought they were beginning to understand the effect that Oliver's years away had on him, how truly awful they were and how much they necessarily changed him. But they also had even more questions, most of which concerning what, exactly, had happened that had changed him so much. However, they also knew that like it or not, they were going to find out.
A solitary tear ran down Oliver's cheek as he watched himself struggle through killing the bird. Diggle reached forward and put a hand on his shoulder, and Felicity laid her head on his other one. William reached up, fighting his own tears at seeing his father go through that, and put his hand over Oliver's, still resting on his shoulder.
"Let's get you home, sweetie," Quentin says, ushering Laurel away from the prison and towards his car. "How'd he get into that prison anyway, huh? A grown man in an outfit and a hood, that kinda stands out a little, doesn't it?"
"He actually wasn't wearing the outfit this time," Laurel answers, much to Quentin's surprise. "He was in a prison guard uniform and a ski mask."
Quentin stares at her for a moment. "What?" she finally asks.
"Nothing," he answers quickly, holding the door for her. "I just had an idea. Get in the car."
Outside a warehouse, Walter climbs the steps to a back door and tries multiple pass-codes before hitting upon the right one, 'Robert.' The door opens and he walks inside to see the wreckage of the Queen's Gambit, laid out on the floor.
"Wait, what?" the D.A. said. "I checked, when I was preparing for this case! The Gambit was never found!"
"Mom found it," Oliver answered after a moment. "Mom found it and had it brought back to the city. That's why she created Tempest."
"But why wouldn't she tell anyone that it was found?" the D.A. insisted. "The cause of the accident could have been discovered!"
"Exactly," Oliver said.
The D.A. looked at him and opened her mouth to say something else, but Constantine interrupted. "All will be revealed, eh?" he said. "Patience, love. Patience."
At the police station, Lance and Hilton are going over the Exchange building footage again. "Okay," the technician says. "Here's the security footage from the Exchange building shooting, but I've already scrubbed through all of it."
"Yeah, well, we're gonna do it again," Lance says.
The man sighs and types something. "So listen," Lance continues, "when you went through the camera security tapes, you were looking for a guy in a green outfit and a green hood, right?"
"What do you want me to look for?" the man says dryly. "A man in a wig and a tutu?"
"I want you to look for anything that's out of the ordinary," Lance says, not impressed. "Okay? Just look."
The man obediently pulls up the footage. He flips through to footage of a back stairway – the back stairway where Oliver had hidden his outfit. The men watch it in silence for a moment. "Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa," Lance suddenly exclaims. "Wait, wait, go back ten seconds."
The man obliges, and the three of them watch as Oliver comes racing up the stairs, pulls the duffel out of the trash can, pulls the Hood's hood out of the duffel, and continues up the stairs. "I'll be d*****," Lance curses. "Play that again."
"So wait a second," the D.A. said, confused. "If the SCPD had you on video and you had no alibi, how are you not already locked up at Iron Heights, or some maximum security facility somewhere?"
"You think I didn't know that camera was there?" Oliver actually scoffed. "Please. I spent five years surviving solely by relying on my senses and my skills. I case every environment I enter within seconds. I know how to find things, where to look for things that everyone else thinks are hidden. I put my hood there because the camera was there. I could just as easily have stashed it somewhere in the alley between the buildings, or on the roof."
"So you wanted them to have the footage?" she asked, still confused.
Oliver nodded. "And I'm sure you'll find out why as we continue on," Constantine interrupted them.
In a park, Declan, now a free man, walks with Laurel. "Thank you, Laurel," he says earnestly.
"Don't thank me," she answers. "Thank Brodeur's bodyguard Ankov for flipping him."
They make their way to a bench where an older lady is waiting with a little girl. "I think there's someone that wants to see you," Laurel continues.
"Izzy," Declan breathes out.
Izzy and her grandmother both turn and look at him, giving him wide smiles. He crouches down, and after a moment, she runs to him and they embrace.
In the lair, Oliver is watching the news on a monitor. "At least five federal, state, and local agencies are seeking millions of dollars in fines and environmental clean-up costs from Brodeur Chemical," the newscaster reports. "New facts have come to light that Brodeur Chemical employee Camille Declan had discovered Brodeur was illegally disposing waste and had collected a file of evidence against her employer before her murder in 2007."
Oliver crosses Brodeur's name off the list and picks up his worn picture of Laurel, staring sadly at it. "Peter Declan, who was convicted of killing his wife, has been released, and the case has been reopened," the news continues.
Back on the island, Oliver is now eating the cooked bird. Yao Fei enters the cave and sits across from him. "Shengcun," he says, nodding.
"Yeah," Oliver mutters. "Bird. I know."
"Shengcun not mean 'bird,'" Yao Fei corrects him, in English. "Shengcun mean 'survive.'"
"Wait, he speaks English?" Beth asked incredulously.
"Yeah," Oliver said grimly. "Even then he was teaching me. Surviving is not for the weak. Nothing was going to be easy. He couldn't let anything be easy for me, even when it could have been. I needed those lessons. It helped me survive what came next."
At this point, everyone knew better than to ask him what came next.
"You speak English?" Oliver asks, his voice breaking.
"You want survive this place," Yao Fei continues, "bird not last thing you kill."
He holds out the picture of Laurel. "And forget her," he advises. "You look at that all day you not survive this place."
Back in Starling City, Moira is meeting someone in the back of a limo. "You wanted to see me?" she asks.
The other occupant of the car is revealed to be Malcolm Merlyn.
Everyone in the room sat forward a little more, especially those that didn't know anything about the Undertaking except for the official story. No matter what each person thought about Oliver, they all had a shared hatred for Malcolm Merlyn, and this was their chance to find out what really happened with him, with the Queen family, and with the Undertaking. This was their chance to find out the truth.
Malcolm smiles. "You look nervous, Moira," he observes.
She smiles and looks down at her hands, which are wringing themselves together of their own accord. She holds them still with effort. "Do I have a reason to be?" she asks.
"We all do," Malcolm answers.
He pulls a copy of Oliver's sketch of the hood out of a folder and hands it to her. "A modern-day Robin Hood," Moira states. "What, are you worried that your net worth makes you a target?"
Malcolm shifts to face her. "Jason Brodeur, Adam Hunt, Warren Patel," he lists. "Tell me you see a connection, Moira."
"He's not targeting the rich," Moira realizes.
"No, he's not," Malcolm agrees. "He's targeting the list."
Moira slowly nods.
At the Queen Mansion, Diggle is waiting in the sitting room when Oliver walks in. "You here for the bodyguard position?" Oliver jokes. "Because the new guy just quit."
Everyone laughed. "Poor guy," Benji sympathized.
"No, I'm not," Diggle answers. "I'm here about the other position."
Oliver nods subtly, and hesitantly holds out his hand. "Just to be clear," Diggle says, walking slowly towards him, "I'm not signing on to be a sidekick. But you're right."
Oliver lowers his hand. "Fighting for this city needs to be done," Diggle continues, "and you're gonna do this with or without me."
"Yeah," Oliver agrees.
"But with me," Diggle says, "there'll be fewer casualties, including you."
"Diggle, I'm not looking for anybody to save me," Oliver says in a pain-filled voice.
"Maybe not," Diggle agrees. "But you need someone just the same. You are fighting a war, Queen. Except you have no idea what war does to you. How it scrapes off little pieces of your soul. And you need someone to remind you of who you are, not this thing you're becoming."
Finally, Diggle holds out his hand, and they shake on it. The front door bangs open suddenly. "Oliver Queen!" someone shouts out as officers charge into the house.
"What is this?" Walter demands. "You can't just barge in here!"
"Yeah?" Lance says, coming in at that moment. "Well, I got a badge and a gun that say different."
He pushes past Walter. Oliver and Diggle come in. "What the h***'s going on?" Oliver shouts.
"Oliver, what's happening?" Thea screams from upstairs.
Hilton grabs Oliver's arms and cuffs them behind him. "You're under arrest on suspicion of obstruction of justice, aggravated assault. . ." Lance lists.
"Walter, stop them!" Thea screams.
". . .trespassing, acting as a vigilante. . ." Lance continues.
Oliver laughs. "Are you out of your mind?" He shouts at Lance.
". . .and murder," Lance finishes.
He grabs Oliver's arm and drags him out of the house. "You have the right to remain silent," Hilton recites. "If you give up that right. . ."
The officers march him out of the house, leaving Walter, Moira, Thea, and Diggle staring after them in shock. Moira looks at Walter, who gives her a wide-eyed look, already raising his phone to his ear.
The screen goes black.