Chapter Five: The Kidnapping
What time it was when Harry got back to the mansion, he didn't know. What he did know was that his reddened palms still stung from his activities in the city. Returning the contents of the bag back into the briefcase underneath his bed, Harry let out a small yawn. He peeled his shirt off and laid down on the floor, grabbing a pillow along the way as a flash of light from outside warned of an incoming storm. As his eyes grew heavy gazing at the ceiling, he closed them only for a moment, and reopened upon hearing something loud crashing to see a dark hooded figure looming over him.
In that moment, rage surged through his entire body as he pushed against the floor, spinning his entire body and unleashing a powerful side kick to push the figure back, quickly reaching underneath his pillow to grab the dagger he kept for protection as he spun to his feet. He thrust the blade forward in a strike to the gut that the figure barely knocked aside, letting go and transitioning into a reverse grip in his opposite hand. In one swift move, Harry used his free hand to punch the figure in the chest with enough force to send him crashing into the wall and brought the blade down in a hammer blow. The figure managed to barely block in time, crashing down onto one knee. With a dark growl, Harry started to increase his strength, inching the blade closer with every second.
The emotion running through him right now made his blood boil. How could he of all people show up right now, after all this time?! His heart was pounding so hard it felt like his head was going to explode, his muscles tensing so hard they felt like they were going to snap and tear from his bones at any moment. The burning hatred he felt in this moment was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and to finally be rid of him... it put a sinister grin on his face.
"Stop!" the figure called out in fear. "Harry! Stop! IT'S ME, OLIVER!"
In a flash of lightning, the dark hooded figure was replaced with a fearful Oliver, and Harry backed off, tossing his blade aside. Oliver gasped with fear as he held his chest from where Harry's punch had made contact. "I'm, I'm sorry..." Harry shuddered, as Oliver carefully climbed to his feet.
"It's okay, I didn't mean to startle you."
"What the hell were you thinking, I could have killed you!" Harry growled, as Oliver pointed to the windows, which were wide open, banging against the wall from the storm's wind.
"I heard those hit the wall. I was making sure everything was okay, and when I saw you were sleeping I thought I could shut them without disturbing you."
"Apparently not." Harry walked over to the windows, shutting and locking them, turning back to face his brother.
"Wanna tell me what that was all about?" Oliver asked, referring to the smile on Harry's face during the attack. "You looked like you wanted to kill me."
"No, I don't want to talk about it."
"You sure?"
"YES!" he hissed through clenched teeth, turning to look away from him. Taking a deep breath, Harry calmed himself. "I, I appreciate the concern Ollie... but I'm fine..."
Oliver had a feeling he wasn't telling the truth, but he didn't push it. "Alright, get some rest. I'll talk to you in the morning."
"Night," he replied as he heard Oliver walk out of the room, shutting the door behind him. After he made sure Oliver was gone, Harry let out a shuddered sigh. Sitting down against the wall, Harry put his face in his hands. One day he would find that bastard and kill him, even if it was the last thing he did.
"Come on, Laurel... we're lawyers, not miracle workers. We can't win this." Joanna de la Vega pleaded as Laurel Lance looked through a pile of letters that had just been delivered to CNRI.
"If we can't win a class action suit against a man who swindled hundreds of people out of their life savings and homes then we're not fit to be called a legal aid office," Laurel informed her as she looked up and began walking towards her desk.
"And if we go bankrupt in the process, we won't be a legal aid office. Hunt has an army of lawyers and they are ready to bury us."
Laurel stopped and looked at Joanna with a conviction that only a Lance was capable of and gave a smirk.
"You and I against an army? I love those odds," she grinned before walking away as Joanna stood there irritated.
"Why do you hate me?" Joanna asked, receiving no answer.
Laurel sat down at her desk looking at the board full of articles and pictures of the notorious businessman Adam Hunt. She couldn't let a man like that get away with ruining people's lives.
"In other news, back to the story about the miraculous survival of two castaways..." Laurel's eyes widened, hoping it wasn't about who she thought it was. Standing up and walking into the area where the television was playing, her worst fears were brought to life as the picture of Oliver Queen was plastered across the screen. "As we reported yesterday, the infamous Starling City resident was found by fishermen along with a young man, the only survivors of the shipwreck of the Queen's Gambit. They were found in the Yellow Sea by fishermen four days ago. The other survivor has been revealed to be eighteen-year-old Harry Potter. Not much is known at this time about him besides being from England originally. Jessica now has more details."
"The Queen's Gambit was last heard from more than five years ago. Mr. Queen has confirmed that he and Mr. Potter were the only survivors of the accident that took the lives of ten people, including local resident Sara Lance, survived by her sister, Laurel-" upon the mention of her name Laurel grabbed the remote and shut the tv off, gaining everyone's attention.
"This isn't a spa, we have work to do," she hissed before backing away. Of all the people to have come back from the dead, why did it have to be him?
Our return to the land of the living would continue to make waves. It's only a matter of time until the right people take notice. While everyone is so focused on the return of Oliver Queen, what happened last night in the city would go under the radar for the most part. After all, I'm careful where it matters.
Oliver has his reasons for going into the city with Tommy. He has plans, and he wants to get them going as fast as possible. It took him five years to get to this point, and I don't blame him. Our trip into the city is going to be necessary to set up a base of operations. Oliver mentioned something about his father's old steel mill in the Glades, wanting to see if it was available. Considering the Glades is in the undesirable part of town, it'd be a perfect place to work from. Nobody would suspect a thing.
There's just one thing that's bothering me. Oliver's kept that photo of Laurel safe that entire time, but he's hardly mentioned her. Not that I don't trust him, but I hope Oliver knows what he's doing with her. I doubt she's going to be thrilled to know he's alive and back in town.
Oliver had finished getting dressed that morning, rubbing the bruise on his chest from where Harry had hit him last night. That would be the last time he ever tried to sneak by Harry while he was sleeping. Pulling the large briefcase he had from underneath his bed, Oliver moved the fabric off of the notebook that contained the List. It was the last thing of his father's that he'd held onto during those five years. Moving the sheet more, he pulled out a stone arrowhead with Japanese symbols etched into it. Locking the case back up, he slid it under the bed and heard laughter from Thea's room just down the hall.
"Where did you get these?" Thea asked in awe as she leaned over the table as her friend used a credit card to smash a couple pills into a thin powder line.
"Roxy's. Thank you Daddy's ACL tear," she explained, holding the bottle in her hand as a knock on the door caught their attention. The girl covered the powder with a book and slipped the bottle into her school uniform's jacket as Oliver opened the door slowly.
"Ollie!" Thea smiled.
Oliver smirked. "You know, I really missed hearing you call me that, Speedy."
"Ugh, worst nickname ever," Thea groaned, seeing her friend's cheeky grin out of the corner of her eye.
"I don't know about that, chasing around after you when you were a kid it felt like a pretty good fit. Maybe it still does," he gave an innocent smile. His eyes glanced at the book on the table, hiding his frown at the barely visible sight of the powder sticking out from underneath it.
"Well, see you at school... Speedy," the friend smiled as she left.
"I am so sorry about her," Thea apologized as Oliver reached into his pocket to reveal the stone arrowhead.
"I got something for you."
"Oh, you did not come back from a deserted island with a souvenir," Thea laughed as Oliver held it up.
"It's a Hōzen, in Buddhism it means reconnecting. I kept it in the hopes that one day it would reconnect me with you."
He placed it in her hand, wrapping her fingers around it. "Thanks, Ollie..."
"Of course."
"A rock! That is so sweet!" Tommy's voice called out as he appeared in the doorway. Walking into the room, Thea could see the huge smile on his face. "You know, I want one of those shirts that says 'My friend was a castaway and all I got was this crappy shirt."
Thea shook her head with a smile as Oliver tried to not chuckle at Tommy's antics. "Ollie, don't let him get you into too much trouble, you just got back. Take it slow."
He nodded, although he did notice that Harry wasn't out of his room yet, based on the fact his door was still shut. "Hey, is Harry up yet?"
"Uh... yeah, I believe so. He should be in the shower right now."
"Okay, thanks. We'll head downstairs and wait for him."
Stepping out of the room, Tommy shut the door behind them.
"Hey, have you noticed how hot your sister has gotten-" Tommy asked, pointing back towards her room as Oliver gave him a dirty look. "-because I have not."
That hooded figure was the only one to have ever eluded Harry's grasp. No matter how many times he'd been able to get close, that man always escaped. It wasn't something Harry took lightly. Of all the things that crossed his mind in his sleep, the only thing that made him wake up out of pure rage and adrenaline was him.
It was a part of his life that Harry tried his best to keep hidden, if only to protect Oliver from it. After all, anyone who could win in a fight against Harry in the first place was extremely rare. Thankfully, Harry hadn't seen him in over two years, and coincidentally that was how long it had been since someone had drawn blood against him in a fight.
Barely four hours had passed since Harry nearly killed Oliver, and the teen was already awake and finishing up in the shower. Just the thought of his worst enemy was capable of making Harry's blood boil. He quietly began to repeat an old mantra he had been taught three years back to help keep his rage under his control: "The sun, the moon, the truth... the sun, the moon, the truth..."
Once he felt calm enough, he gave his hair one more go with the towel and then closed his eyes. Thank god for Satomi's help back then.
Once he was done and in his room, Harry could still see where he left the dagger on the floor. He shouldn't have attacked like that, not while he was half asleep. If it weren't for the fact Oliver had combat training, Harry would have killed him before he could get a word out. Knowing that Tommy would be there at any time to take him and Oliver into the city, he proceeded to get dressed. In any given situation, Harry always felt comfortable with the temperature, thanks to previous conditioning in the years he was off of the island. Given the jacket he saw Oliver wearing, he figured having on an extra layer or two wouldn't hurt.
He put on dark blue jeans, a plain black t-shirt not unlike the one he wore yesterday (a lot of his shirts were black), a long-sleeved denim button up shirt to go over it, and a zip-up hoodie. Harry pulled his briefcase out from underneath the bed and pulled a pair of custom-made boots out. They were specially made for him, having the functionality of parkour shoes but the protection of combat boots. With his unique set of skills, the footwear was exactly what he needed.
Once he had the shoes on, Harry made sure the case was locked and slid it back underneath the bed just in time for Oliver to call his name from downstairs.
"Harry! Tommy's here!" Oliver announced as Harry walked out of his room, grabbing the dagger on the way out and slipping it into the secret pocket on the inside of his denim shirt.
"Hey, sorry about that." Harry apologized as he got downstairs, adjusting his hair one last time.
"No worries man." Tommy assured him. "Anyway, let's get going. The city awaits!"
Walking to Tommy's car, Harry could see it was clearly only a two-seater. "Okay, um, where am I going to sit? I am not sitting on Oliver's lap."
"Oh, I think I have that already figured out." Oliver motioned towards the garage. The billionaire walked over to the door and lifted it up to reveal a gorgeous red motorcycle that was from Harry's dreams.
"You're the best!" Harry practically ran over to get onto the motorcycle.
"Wait, he doesn't know how to drive one of those, does he?"
"Are you kidding? My godfather taught me how to ride one of these when I was eleven!" Harry explained.
"He doesn't have a license by chance?"
"How long did we drive without a license?" Oliver retorted as Tommy nodded.
"Touche," and with that said, Tommy and Oliver got into the car and Harry followed them out of the driveway and into the city.
Their tour of the city led them to stop at a diner. Harry had entered the bathroom for the moment, leading the two playboys to reminisce on the past.
"How's Laurel?" Oliver asked as he and Tommy sat down at a table. He could see it made him tense based off the way Tommy's body language shifted out of nowhere.
"Well, for starters, she's pissed that you're alive..."
"Ouch."
"Okay, maybe not 'pissed' in the way she wanted you dead, but..."
"I know what you mean, Tommy."
"Other than that, though, she's doing good. She's a lawyer now, and she's been a part of some major cases in the last year, so uh, yeah... Laurel's making a name for herself. Her dad, well, ever since Sara, he's been drinking... a lot."
Oliver lowered his head. He should have never taken Sara onto that yacht, but it was five years too late for that. "Though, I don't suppose you were wanting to hear about him, were you?"
"Not right then, no."
"I'm sorry, but Laurel is just a depressing topic, and I don't want this to kill the rest of the day... can I just say, your funeral blew."
"Did you get lucky?" Oliver asked, knowing the answer was 'yes.'
"It was like fish in a barrel!" Tommy laughed. "They were so sad and huggy-"
"No..." Oliver groaned with a smile.
"-and I'll be counting on another target-rich environment for your welcome back bash."
Thankfully Oliver hadn't been eating anything at the moment because he would have choked at the comment. "My what?"
"Dude, you came back from the dead! This calls for a party! Literally, you tell me when and where and I will take care of everything."
As much as I hate the idea of a party, depending on how everything unfolds, this party might come in handy as an alibi.
"So, I have a question for you. What was it that you missed the most while you were gone? Steaks at the Palm? Drinks at the station? Meaningless sex?"
"Laurel..." Oliver sighed, leaning back against the seat as Tommy threw his hands up in disbelief.
"Dude, everyone is happy you're alive, and you want to see the one person that's not?"
"Yeah, that sounds about right," he admitted. "I'm not an idiot... I know going to see her is going to be a big mistake. I've had so many nights to think about what our first talk would be like, and I can't say that I disagree with her in any situation. I cheated on Laurel with her sister, took her on the yacht, and Sara... Sara died, Tommy. Not only did I break her heart, but I took her sister away from her, and for what? I was scared of committing to our relationship. The last thing I want to do is remind Laurel of what she lost."
"Sooo... you're not going to see her?"
"No, I think it's better if I just stay away from Laurel and her father for the meantime."
"Alright, I gotta ask... who are you and what have you done with Oliver Queen?"
"What?" the billionaire chuckled.
"I think that's the first time you've said something genuinely smart."
"I had a lot of time to think, and quite frankly, I don't want to focus on the past anymore."
From the look on Tommy's face, Oliver knew he was making the right decision. Rubbing salt in the wound wouldn't make anything easier for any of them.
Around that time, Harry was walking out of the bathroom and making his way over to them. Sitting down, they exchanged a look that told Harry exactly what he needed to know about what he missed.
Their meal was nice and as they were getting ready to leave, Oliver noticed Harry's head twitch suddenly towards the street. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked quietly.
"We got company, seven o'clock. They've been following us since 25th and Calden." Oliver didn't like that, it was an unexpected bump in the road. If they were being followed, it raised a million different questions, most importantly: What did they want?
"Don't do anything stupid, alright? We can work with a kidnapping attempt."
"Wouldn't that speed up our timeline?" Harry asked.
"Yeah. You okay with that?"
"If it means I can kick some ass, then I'm all for it."
The three stepped into the alley near the vehicles just as the black van that'd been tailing them roared to life, speeding towards them.
"What the hell?" Tommy asked, just as a man in a mask jumped out of the van and shot him in the neck with a dart. Oliver felt a pinch in the back of his neck, and barely a moment later his sight started to blur. His legs turned to jelly as the energy was drained from his system in one fell swoop. Just as he hit the ground, he could faintly hear Harry cuss at one of their assailants. Of course one tranq didn't work.
"H-Harry..." he groaned, desperately trying to warn him, but it was too late. Everything turned black.