The Rise of Athena (An Arrow: Season 1 Fanfiction)

Chapter 14: Unintended Secret Revealed

At the stock auction at Unidac Industries...

Oliver and I walked up to Thea and Mom, arm in arm. 

'Hi,' he said softly. 

'Oliver, Evelyn, what a wonderful surprise.' Oliver waved Diggle over to us. He stepped behind the two with a concerned look on his face. 

'I need you to get them out of here right now.' The silence was tense. I looked around, only to see Detective Quentin Lance staring at Walter Steele, with red lights that looked oddy from the scope of a gun blinking everywhere. In an instant, a shot was let off, but Walter was unhurt. The bullet pierced the back of a serving man with a tray of champagne, while Detective Lance tackled Walter to the ground, saving him from the deadly bullet. People started screaming all at once. 'Evelyn, go with them!' he shouted as Thea and Moira ran out of the building, escorted by Diggle. 

'No! I'm staying.' Another person was shot and more people started screaming. Oliver grabbed Thea, pulling her close to him. 

'Are you okay?' She nodded furiously. 

'Mom, are you hurt?' I shouted to Moira. 

'No, I'm fine! Where's Walter?' 

'Go, go, go, go! Walter's fine!' Oliver shouted. 

'Sir, ma'am, I have to get you out of here,' Diggle said to Oliver and I. 

'No, them!' Oliver shouted. 'Them.' 

'Go, go! I'll find him, ma'am. I'll find him,' Diggle shouted to Moira. With that, the two of us ran for the stairs, ready to find Lawton. 

Running up the stairs, we found the trash bin where we'd hid our suits. I slipped into it easily and we bolted up the steps, him with his bow and arrow and me brandishing my daggers. More gunshots were going off, and people kept screaming, running every which way. On one roof, Oliver shot an arrow with a winch on it, then grabbed me and we sailed across, smashing through the window near Lawton's outpost. Lawton turned, and he started shooting at us with the guns on his arms, attached to some sort of gauntlet system. Oliver shot arrows; I threw daggers; Lawton kept firing his gun. Then the shooting stopped, and Lawton crept forward. 

We remained in hiding, staying perfectly silent. But Oliver lashed out, catching Lawton in the back, and I kicked him to the ground. He bounced up against packing crates and fell on the concrete floor. Then the kicking and punching match began as the two of us traded blows with Lawton. The assassin let off more gunfire, and we kept trading blows over and over. We quickly overpowered Lawton, but he got the better of us. We bolted behind two pillars as Lawton recovered his feet, looking around, trying to find us. 

'Drop your guns!' Oliver shouted out. 

'I admire your work,' Lawton responded with a slow drawl. I chanced a glance at him. He was wearing a leather jacket, with a special device over his eye of some sort. Probably to help him shoot, I thought. 'Guess you two won't be extending me any professional courtesy.' 

'We're not in the same line of work,' I retorted. 'Your profession is murder.' 

'You've taken lives.' 

'For the good of others,' Oliver spoke out. 'You're out for yourself.' I chanced another glance. He let his gun slightly lower, then he fired. Oliver loosed an arrow, and a thud sounded out. We peered around the corner and came out into the light, and Lawton laid there on the floor, an arrow right in his eye. I looked at Oliver and he met my eyes. Just then we heard a groan, and we turned to see Diggle standing there with an apparent injury. With me sheathing my daggers and Oliver putting his bow at rest, we grabbed Diggle, supported him on our shoulders, and walked away. 

We brought Diggle down into our base of operations. 

'Are you sure this is a good idea?' I spoke to him. He nodded, still preoccupied with carrying Diggle to the table so we could get some of the healing herbs in him before he died from the curare-laced bullet. We got him onto the table, then Oliver grabbed some herbs, while I helped steady him. He brought the prepared herbs over and held it up to his lips, which he drank, then laid back and fell unconscious on the table. 'What do we do now?' I asked him. He walked away, shedding his hood. 

'We wait,' he said simply. 

Moments later, John Diggle opened his eyes and began to sit up. I was sitting on the workbench when he was waking up, and watched him carefully as he sat up slowly, touching his hand to his wound. He let out a cough and rolled over to face us. Oliver came to stand next to me, and we met his eyes. 

'Hey,' Oliver said. Nothing but shock was in Diggle's eyes.