Chapter Text
“I’m on site,” she says into her radio as she gets out of her car.
“Wait for backup, Detective, that’s an order,” she hears over the radio, and she stops a moment, but sees an FBI agent dead on the front stoop. There’s no waiting. She clips her radio to her belt and and takes out her gun, clicking off the safety.
She winds her way through the safe house, sticking to the shadows as she sweeps through the house. She steps over bodies, and does her best to avoid the blood puddles beneath them. The back of the house opens into a kitchen and family room, with a large bay window. Through the window she can see the Hood and Bertinelli, fighting one another. She finds herself at the back kitchen door, and taking a deep breath as she sees the the Hood gain the upper hand. Bertinelli is on the ground and the Hood has his bow trained on her.
“Freeze!” She yells, her gun trained on the Hood. She makes her way down the porch steps and across the grass, “Put it down.” The Vigilante starts lowers his bow, setting it on the ground.
“Turn around, slowly,” she says, and she feels her heart pounding in her chest, and she can’t help but thinking to herself: this is a career-making moment. He’s turning, and McKenna shifts so that Bertinelli is still in her sights, but it’s too late. There’s quick movement from Bertinelli, a loud bang, a rush of blood to her ears, and she’s falling…
McKenna jolts awake, the free-falling feeling making her chest tighten. She’s breathing heavily, near tears. It takes a few moments to calm down and she traces her scar on her leg. She looks over at the alarm clock: 4:30am. She may as well get up. She’s not going to go back to sleep.
Her entire body feels like one big bruise and she considers a hot bath, but isn’t quite sure she’ll be able to maneuver herself back out of the tub because she’s moving like she’s 99 years old. So, shower it is.
The last 24 hours replay through her mind as McKenna stands under the hot spray. The attack on the Nanotech conference had been brutal, masked men rappelling from the ceiling of the convention center, leaving a mass of casualties in their wake. At least 21 people are dead, including 12 security guards and 4 conference attendees. 5 people from Palmer Tech security are dead, gunned down trying to protect Felicity.
McKenna knows it could have been worse, and her primary goal, getting Felicity to safety, was met, albeit with help from the vigilante and his gang. The vigilante, who’s calling himself the Green Arrow, and who probably is Oliver Queen.
Having witnessed the Green Arrow swooping in to save the day and getting shot in his arm for his effort, a few hours later Oliver exhibited the same exact injury, prompting McKenna to question nearly everything she’s ever known about Oliver, and herself. How did she miss this?
The dots are connecting. It makes sense now that the Hood wasn’t too concerned about the Vertigo epidemic in the Glades until Thea was facing drug charges...and Oliver drew the Count out by trying to buy drugs off him. And the Dodger case...he was apprehended by the Hood after stealing a jewel donated by the Queen family...that was right around the time Oliver had asked McKenna out…And then there’s Helena Bertinelli, who had connections to both Oliver and the Hood. McKenna shuts off the water more forcefully than necessary, anger bubbling up, and it throws her a bit off balance, and she catches herself with her injured hand. Pain radiates from it, and McKenna squeezes her eyes shut. This is not going to be a good day.
Palmer Tech is a bevy of activity when McKenna gets there, and it’s not even 8 am. Gerry is a godsend, bringing both coffee and the update that Felicity will be released from the hospital this morning and that Mr. Queen said there was no need for McKenna to come to the hospital. Between Oliver and his bodyguard, Diggle, they will get her home. McKenna is secretly relieved. Before he leaves her office Gerry informs her that her meeting with Mr. Walker, the head of Palmer Tech security and Captain Lance will also include Mr. Steele, and will take place in his office at 9 am.
McKenna arrives right at 9, not really in the mood for small talk, and she’s happy to find that nobody else is either. There are quick inquiries into her hand, and she waves them off, like it’s every day her hand gets stomped on and broken.
Grant Walker, the head of Palmer Tech security, asks how Felicity is. McKenna shrugs, “I haven’t talked to her this morning.”
Walter looks surprised, but says, “I talked to Oliver this morning, she’s doing well. She’ll be released this morning, rest for a week, and then back to work next Wednesday.” Walter chuckles, “That’s the doctor and Oliver’s timeframe for her, anyway. I’m sure we’ll see her before then.”
Lance hands out file folders, with information about the attack. “Alright, we counted at least 30 masked men. 10 are in body bags, none in police custody, unfortunately.”
“You weren’t able to apprehend any?” Grant Walker asks, surprised.
Lance grimaces, “They carry cyanide on their person.”
“How do you know this?” Walter asks.
“You’ve seen these guys before,” McKenna answers. How else would he know about the cyanide? There’s no way toxicology reports are ready from yesterday.
Lance reluctantly nods, “We’ve seen them before, yes, and we haven’t been able to take any in police custody. They’re well trained, and they would rather die than be taken in. They’re like ghosts.”
Grant looks thoroughly confused, “So these were the guys behind the pipe bomb at Kord Industries?”
“No, they were not,” Lance says. “This was not related to the threats Kord and Palmer’s been getting.”
McKenna starts to itch with agitation. “So, basically, the scenarios that myself, Grant, the Convention Center staff, Kord Industries Security, all those scenarios we planned for, bombs, fringe protesters, these guys yesterday were a totally new entity with a whole different agenda.”
Lance nods in affirmation, looking a bit embarrassed, and there’s a collective exhale from everybody else.
“I’m afraid to ask, because I think I know the answer,” Walter begins, “but what was their goal?”
Lance’s eyes are trained on his notes. “We’re still combing through evidence, but one theory is that they were after gadgets in the exhibit hall.”
Grant frowns, “But there was hardly anybody in the exhibit hall. They wouldn’t have needed that many guys at the time they attacked.”
“Most of their force seemed to be in the main hall during the keynote.” McKenna adds.
“I think the exhibit hall was a bonus for them, they’ve been hitting other technology-rich places,” Lance agrees, “I think they also wanted something in the main hall.”
“You mean someone,” Walter says. “By all accounts, they were laser focused on Felicity.”
Grant nods in agreement, “I’ve been looking at some of the footage that was taken, and Walter’s correct. They shot anybody that got in between them and Felicity. But why would she be a target?”
Lance shrugs, “She’s the CEO of a billion dollar corporation. Ransom? In addition to stealing technology, they’ve been gathering other resources, including cash.”
Walter shakes his head, “The company is still reeling from Ray Palmer’s explosion. We’re getting there, but we aren’t as cash flush as you’d believe.”
“They weren’t after the company’s money or Felicity’s money, for that matter,” McKenna says slowly, a headache slowly starting to form as the implications become clearer. “That’s not what’s most valuable about Felicity.”
“What’s the most valuable thing about Felicity?” Lance asks.
Walter sighs, “Her knowledge.”
McKenna nods in agreement, “This is about information Felicity has that these people want.”
“Any idea what that could be?” Grant asks.
“Felicity is the CEO of a corporation whose main focus is research and development. Any given day Felicity is briefed on any one of Palmer Tech’s major projects. She knows everything that’s going on here,” McKenna says. She starts thinking about options, and it seems like everyone is doing the same as they are silent.
Walter turns to Grant, “I want security doubled on this floor, as well as the floors below us. I want a comprehensive plan for how we are going to keep this building secure. Review our current security protocols for entering and exiting the building. I want recommendations tomorrow.” Grant nods and Walter turns to McKenna, “I want extra security on Felicity. Hire whomever you need to.”
McKenna nods at Walter, about to reply in turn, when something occurs to her. “Captain Lance, what about the vigilantes?”
Lance looks up, a confused look crossing his face. “What about ‘em?” He huffs out.
“Well, it seems the masks were converging on Felicity, like they knew these Ghosts were after her,” McKenna says. “It was like all four of them were trying to get her and her alone out of the building.”
“They rightfully guessed she was the target,” Walter puts in. “I’m not quite sure what the problem with that is, McKenna. By your own admission, they saved your life and Felicity’s.”
“How did they know she was targeted? If they’d been reading the papers they’d have thought, like we all did, it was Burning Man wackos wanting to cause trouble at the conference, not some well-armed, well-trained ghosts.” McKenna looks over to Lance, looking like he’s swallowed a lemon.
“I don’t know how they knew, McKenna,” Lance says, “But this isn’t the first time Felicity’s been saved by the Arrow. There was an incident here, like two years ago with Count Vertigo. There’s history.”
“Isn’t the Arrow dead?” McKenna asks, “You talk like the Arrow and the Green Arrow are one in the same.” When Lance’s eyes meet hers, McKenna’s stomach drops. She’s seen the look in Lance’s eyes, many times, in interrogation rooms as a cop. The look of guilt in a suspect’s eyes. McKenna’s eyes widen a bit, and Lance shakes off the guilty look, widening his own eyes. In the span of five seconds, McKenna is sure she and Lance are thinking the same thing: That the other knows.
Walter’s phone chirps with a reminder of his next meeting with Public Relations and Grant starts chattering to McKenna about sending some resumes her way so that she can hire extra security. McKenna distractedly nods her head, and then grabs her stuff as quickly as she can, and heads to her office, decidedly not looking at Lance.
She dumps her stuff on her desk, and finds herself blinking back tears. Curse whoever thought it was a good idea to have offices with glass walls. She stares out the window, hoping no one comes through the door to find her almost crying. If it’s Gerry or Kerry, they’ll assume it’s some breakdown associated with almost dying yesterday and want to mother her to death. She can’t take that.
There’s a shuffling at the door and McKenna sees in the reflection it’s Captain Lance. He comes in and shuts the door, looking through the glass walls into the hallway, as if he’s looking for any lurkers.
“You knew who the Green Arrow is, you knew last year,” she says, quietly. Her stomach turns a bit, at the thought of Roy Harper, who confessed to being someone he wasn’t and got stabbed for his troubles. “You let that kid take the fall for him.” She turns away from Lance, anger boiling up.
“It’s not that simple,” Lance begins again, “It’s complicated…”
McKenna whips around, interrupting Lance, “What’s complicated? The fact that Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow? Seems pretty clear to me.” Lance opens his mouth to reply, but it seems he has nothing to say, confirming what McKenna already knew. She suddenly feels so tired, and slumps onto her couch. Lance follows suit.
Both are silent for a moment before Lance asks quietly, “How’d you figure it out?”
“The Green Arrow get hit by a bullet in his left arm. At the hospital, a nurse knocked into Oliver’s arm and he reacted,” McKenna says tiredly, “The way the Arrow talked to Felicity, her comment about both of them having nice asses…Everything about Oliver became really clear.”
“Are you okay?” Lance asks.
McKenna laughs at that question, “No, I don’t think I’ll be using that word for a while.” Her vision is getting a little watery, so she closes her eyes.
“McKenna,” she hears Lance shifting on the couch next to her, “I understand how angry you are, because I had that same anger...I still do.”
“You remember when we apprehended Helena Bertinelli? We interrogated her together?” McKenna opens her eyes and turns her head towards Lance.
“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” Lance says, looking a bit lost.
“I asked who the vigilante was, and she brought up Oliver. She told me that he uses people, he’d used her, he brought up Laurel and Sara…” McKenna says quietly.
“Yeah, I remember,” Lance bites out.
McKenna sighs, “At the time, I thought she was just avoiding the question, trying to make me doubt Oliver, and I shrugged it off because she was a psychopath. But now...she knew what she was talking about.”
Lance doesn’t say anything, but instead reaches out and grasps McKenna’s hand. Clearly the father of two daughters.
“I feel so foolish. Oliver and I...I used to wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t gotten hurt, if what we were to each other would have turned into something...important. This entire time, the person I believed Oliver to be has been a lie. Helena was right, I was used.” It’s hard for McKenna to admit.
“I’ve been there,” Lance says, “What can I do?” He lightly squeezes her hand.
“Can you answer some questions?” McKenna asks. Lance squeezes his eyes shut a moment, and then nods, releasing McKenna’s hand.
“So Oliver is the vigilante and obviously Felicity is on board,” McKenna begins, “What about the guy in the helmet?”
“John Diggle, Queen’s bodyguard,” Lance says.
McKenna nods, that makes sense. “What about Little Red Riding Hood?”
Lance cracks a smile, “She goes by the codename Speedy,”
“That was Oliver’s nickname for his sister. Wait, are you saying…” McKenna says in disbelief. Thea Queen is Speedy?
“As I understand it, Queen’s not totally thrilled with his little sister running around under a hood, but it is what it is.”
“Okay, then what about the woman in black?” McKenna asks.
Lance is silent a long moment, “The Black Canary, they call her.”
“Do you know who she is?” McKenna presses.
“The Black Canary, against my better judgement, is my daughter.” Lance answers. There’s a pain in his eyes as he answers her, and McKenna now understands why he isn’t so hung up on the vigilantes anymore.
“That’s why you’re not going after them? Because it’s Laurel under one of those masks?”
Lance sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “For better or worse, they want to help Star City. It’s messy, it’s complicated, and I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive Queen for the pain and chaos he’s helped to rain down on this city. But this is where we are. We need their help.”
McKenna stands up from the couch and walks over to the window, wiping her eyes. In the reflection she sees Lance stand up and stick his hands in his pockets.
He takes a big breath, before asking, “So, I’m going to ask. What are you going to do with this information?”
If she only knew.