Thriving

Good Vigilante, Bad Vigilante

"Make sure this message finds its way to the vigilante. Do it fast, because at sunrise I'm gonna leave pieces of this girl all over Starling City unless he pays me a little visit." Detective Lance felt sick as he listened to the recorded message on the arrow Tommy had found at Laurel's apartment.

"What do we do?" Tommy asked. "Can your CSIs, I-I-I don't know. Can they track this or-or trace it or something?"

Lance was still too deep in shock to process what Tommy had said. "How did he know about Laurel?"

"What?"

"How does this guy know Laurel is connected to the-- to the hood?" Lance clarified. That fact wasn't well-known across the precinct. Only a few cops knew about the connection.

Tommy shook his head, not seeing how this was a priority right now."I have no idea. I only-I only found out about myself last night. She-she-she said you knew."

"Well, just me and..." Lance felt his heart drop into his stomach as realization dawned on him. He slowly looked around the bullpen, everyone becoming a suspect to him.

Tommy followed Lance's gaze around the bullpen but didn't connect the dots. "Mr. Lance, this maniac has got Laurel! You've gotta call in the posse or something. I-I don't know, SWAT teams."

"I can't." Lance opened one of his desk drawers, grabbing the phone the Hood gave him.

"Detective Lance."

"I gotta go make a call." Lance walked off to a secluded hallway. He hated himself for doing it but called the Starling City vigilante nonetheless.

* * *

While Detective Lance was kicking himself over the choices he made, Oliver was meeting with Diggle in the bunker.

"Thanks for comin'," Diggle said as Oliver walked up to him. "It didn't seem like a good idea to talk about this at your house."

"Yeah, it would have been a little awkward for you to explain to my mother that you're spying on her." Oliver spat.

"No, man. Awkward part's coming up." Diggle handed over a small recording device.

"You bugged my mother?"

"Just listen."

Oliver begrudgingly took the recorder and pressed play. "It's taken care of. I've taken care of it." Moira's voice spoke. "Carl Ballard will not be a problem anymore."

"Given your propensity for squeamishness, I'm assuming that Mr. Ballard remains in good health." A masculine voice responded.

"I made it clear to him persuasively that his plans endangered the Undertaking," Moira assured the unknown voice. "I didn't have to make the usual threats."

"Excellent." The voice sounded pleased. "Now, one more matter to attend to. I need you to have the contents of this address removed and disposed of thoroughly. The warehouse where you're storing the remains of the Queen's Gambit."

"I already told you, I knew Robert's yacht was sabotaged."

In that moment, Oliver's life shattered around him. All the hell he went through in the past five years wasn't by some sick twist of fate. It was a result of an attack on his father.

"I'm sorry, man." Diggle apologized. 

"The yacht was sabotaged." Oliver's shock slowly began to morph into anger. "Somebody tried to kill my father."

"And your mother was involved somehow."

Oliver shook his head, not wanting to believe it. "You do not know that she was involved, Diggle!"