Arrow: the Two Archers

Chapter 14: The Italian Affair

Oliver was speeding down the Starling City streets on his motorbike, his mind deep in thought. The last week had been... odd, to say the least. Being at home was incredibly uncomfortable with his mother scrambling to keep things running smoothly at the company and Thea still refusing to speak even a single word towards him. Things at the Foundry weren't much better either. Oliver had apparently spooked Lydia with his attitude, because the girl now seemed almost afraid to talk to him beyond the bare minimum necessary to operate on the field. She also seemed to be repeatedly throwing herself into work, whether that be extra nightly hunts or taking a bigger caseload at CNRI. It had gotten bad enough that Laurel had even called him because of it. Of course, Oliver hadn't really known what to tell her, so he simply reassured her that it was probably nothing. But deep down he was at a loss about what to do regarding both Thea and Lydia. And it was starting to frustrate him.

The buzzing of his phone in his pocket dragged Oliver out of his thoughts, prompting him to pull his bike over to pick up the call. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed it was from Thea. He forced himself to lower his expectations though. The chances that this was her wanting to reconcile were very slim.

"Hey, Speedy. What's up?"

"Raisa said I should remind you that you are supposed to pick mom up for lunch today." his sister's voice said on the other end of the line, sounding like the last thing she wanted to do right now was make this call.

Oliver's shoulders slumped a bit. Still, Thea was right, he did have a lunch planned with his mother that he had almost forgotten. He needed to hurry if he didn't want to be late.

"I'll head right over. Thanks for the heads up."

"Glad to know you can still make time for our mother in your hectic schedule." his sister replied drily.

"Thea wait, I..."

Thea interrupted the call before he could finish, leaving Oliver to stare down at his phone with a defeated expression. With a sigh he pocketed his phone, put on his helmet and started his bike back up.

When he reached the Queen Consolidated building his mother was already stepping outside, a man in a suit walking next to her and speaking fast. Oliver took off his helmet and dismounted his bike, giving his mother a smile and a waive. She returned the smile briefly before turning back to the man. Whatever conversation they were having, it wasn't one she was interested in continuing, because it seemed she had quickly shut it down. With the conversation concluded, Oliver began walking across the street to meet her. However, before he could reach the other side a motorbike came speeding down the street. Oliver barely noticed the rider raising a submachine gun in time to duck. But he wasn't the target. On the other side of the street his mother and the man she had been talking with had fallen on the ground.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Oliver asked as he rushed over to her, his heart pounding like a jackhammer.

Moira raised her head, clearly a bit dazed from the impact.

"I'm alright." she said.

"Are you hurt?" Oliver asked, quickly examining her for any injuries.

Apart from a bit of bleeding from a cut on her head, there didn't seem to be any. The same couldn't be said for the man she had been talking to, who was quickly losing blood to at least four bullet wounds.

"Are you okay, mom?" he asked again.

"I'm fine, Oliver. I'm fine."

With that small reassurance, Oliver jumped back up onto his feet.

"Call 911!" he yelled to one of the people nearby before breaking off into a sprint.

His eyes locked onto the shooter on his vehicle, a predator instinct kicking in. The shooter was faster, and with a motorized vehicle Oliver had no chance of catching up if this became an endurance chase. But on foot he was more mobile than the bike that required roads to drive on. And this was his city, his home, his concrete jungle. Making use of all the adrenaline in his body, Oliver dashed into the Starling City back alleys, eyes always tracking the shooter whenever the more open streets came into view. He was getting closer. All he needed was a way to stop that bike. Oliver made a quick sweep of his surroundings, his eyes landing on a metal pole sticking out from a pile of construction supplies. He grabbed it as he ran past, then threw it when the shooter came into view again, aiming for the wheels. The pole sailed through the air... and missed, Oliver still catching a glimpse of it sparking against the asphalt before a truck cut off his sight line.