After hanging up the phone on diggle. Oliver answered the door. A gunman fires a shot into his shoulder. Stunned only for a half second, Oliver pulling on the man's wrist, trying to wrestle the gun away. The gun aimed down and fires, slicing its way through cloth, flesh and the tracking anklet.
"Ahhh! Who are you? What do you want?" Oliver wheezed out, the blood loss finally taking its toll. As the gunman grabbed a knife and said,
"How 'bout we add a few more scars to that body of yours, hmmm?" Throwing Oliver towards the wooden coffee table, where he hit and broke it with his head. The gunman straddled Oliver's chest, facing the door, lightly dragged the knife down his face and clothed chest. The door smashed open under the force of detective Quentin Lance.
"Step away from the billionaire! Put your hands up! Now!"Quentin commanded.
"Now, Mr. Queen here and I aren't finished nor is my employer. I won't be the last and I'm certainly not the first. Am I right, Mr. Queen?" The gunman emphasized each word with a punch to his wounded shoulder. Oliver stayed silent, dazed from the pain, that triggers memories of his time on the island. He laid there trapped in his own mind, unable to free himself.
"Ahhhh uh un Mr. Queen just the way I was told to leave you, trapped, unable to reconnect again, and in fear." The gunman mocked ignoring the detective. Quentin sent a silent distress signal to the swat team waiting downstairs, hoping they arrive in time to save the life he put at risk. Raising his gun once more, Quentin, pointed it at the unknown assailant and shouted,
"Surrender now and we can cut you a deal."
"Ah no can do Detective. I know a lie when I hear one and besides I'm doing you a favor. Mr. Hood here is causing trouble for you and my boss so what if he dies suspiciously, nobody will care they will think that poor little Oliver Queen finally got the courage to do what he couldn't on that island, die!" He threw back, stabbing the man underneath him.
"Ahhhhh" Oliver screamed in pain. Without much thought Quentin fires his gun hitting the assailant in the chest. Quickly clearing the room, he made sure to push the man off his charge. The room flooded with SWAT personal.
"Call a 'bus, now!" Detective Quentin Lance urged. "Right away, sir"
Quentin placed pressure on the shoulder wound, while another put pressure on the other two wounds. "C'mon kid, don't die me. Don't you want to prove me wrong? Stay awake!" Quentin coached Oliver. Through glazed eyes Oliver searched for something and focused on what was not there.
"I'm not dead yet." Oliver groaned out.
"That's it, now, just breathe kid. Where's that 'bus!" "ETA five minutes, sir"
"When they get here someone better be there to escort them, am I understood?" With that said Quentin shifted focus to the bleeding billionaire. He could see the man's eyelids slip close. "Keep him awake!" The detective snapped, while lightly shook Oliver. When he did not react to the ministrations, Quentin gained a worried look. "Keep trying to wake him. what's taking that 'bus so long."
Quentin moved from the room just as Oliver's sister, Thea, came down the hallway.
