Chapter 3

King Bronsan and Partners

Oliver had been in Richard's office for the last four hours, while both of them called every person they had to. With the intent of getting to the bottom of Oliver's corporate whitewash.

Oliver watched as Richard closed his communication portal, and set his computer to snooze. The lawyer had just finished a video conference with Oliver's accountant who was currently abroad. Oliver had heard snippets of the conversation while he'd been on the phone with his contact at the FBI. He felt as though the walls were closing in on him. Everything he'd built, almost everything he owned was gone and he'd only found out about it after getting fired from his own company.

"It's global. They've completely cleaned you out. Whoever it was, they were surgical. They started with the less noticeable movements on your accounts, mirroring your transactions over the past month, paying their own accountants and lawyers to solidify their dealings. The biggest haul was in the last twenty-four hours. While you were in your office on a call with Sentor Grellon, your doppelganger was accessing the vault, walking away with 2-million in bearer bonds. That would have been enough to get Duncan's shorts in a twist, but it was the signing over control of Queen Industries that really blew his gasket. I know you didn't do it but contesting the documents with legitimate witnesses will cost in time and money. The company register was changed and lodged two months ago. Sometimes these processes can stall but from what I was able to find out, it looks like someone at the Register's Office was bribed to hold off on sending out the revised register until yesterday."

Oliver paced the small, brightly lit office, feeling his blood boil in his veins. His whole face felt hot and his fingers itched to beat a pound of flesh. What he wouldn't give to go a couple rounds in the gym with his sparring partner right now. No doubt Walter would earn several broken ribs for his commitment, but Oliver couldn't spare one minute away at the moment. Someone had pulled his life rug out from under him and he had a bad feeling that he hadn't heard the bulk of it yet.

"First call I made was to TransUnion, they have a team working on your case as we speak. I got an e-mail from them while I was in conference with Bryce. All your savings accounts have been closed. Before they were closed the balances were wired to two accounts, half to the International Orphaned Children Fund, and the rest to a bank account in Mexico. The latter was drawn in full this morning. Had to bribe them but we managed to get video surveillance of the lobby at the bank, they insist that it was you. There's really no sweat off their backs, they made a hefty commission making a special clearance to release the funds less than twenty-four hours after transfer.

"How could this happen?" Oliver roared. Someone was laughing. Wherever they were they were laughing their pants off at him. There was no way he'd try to claim back the money from a charitable organization. He'd look like the worst kind of scum. As for going after the foreign bank, he might as well send them the shirt off his back while he was at it. The most he could hope for was some form of compensation from his banks. But even that was going to turn his life into a media circus. Not that it wasn't already bad on a regular day. They had been waiting for something like this. Oliver Queen the spoiled rich boy strikes again. He's finally hit bottom. What people loved more than worshiping heroes and icons in tabloid, was when those same people lost it all and became like everyone else.

Richard sighed and ran a hand through his graying hair. "The banks, the other lawyers, Queen Security, each of them claim to have had explicit instructions from you personally. There was nothing off about this guy, he had all the right documentation, his manner, the inside knowledge. Why would a pro be after you? Someone with this kind of ability, why risk the attention of impersonating someone as high-profile as you? This had to have taken months of planning, studying your habits, knowing your routine, tracking your movements, timing their play. For money? It's a big take but the risk doesn't make sense, they had to know that it would work. Unless, it wasn't about the money," Richard trailed off lost in thought.

Oliver was beginning to think the same thing. The reaction of the board was still cemented in his brain. They'd all looked at him as though he was insane or high. He didn't blame them, what kind person behaved the way he had, unless they could be excused for having multiple personality disorder. Or in his case, someone impersonating him right under his nose?

"I've been in this business for thirty years and I've never seen or heard of anything on this scale. Identity fraud like this is..."

Oliver threw his phone at the wall and it split on impact, pieces scattering in all directions leaving a dint in the plaster and a white scratch in the decorative burgundy wallpaper. All this didn't even cause Richard to flinch. "You didn't see the way they looked at me. That I had to be a lunatic to get up in front of them." Oliver laughed darkly, tears burning in his eyes. "I bet they thought it was befitting for a guy who spent a large portion of his youth doped up to lose his mind. Who hands off a billion-dollar company in secret and still turns up for work the next day?" Oliver went to the large glass windows and rested his head against the cool pane. He balled his fist and pounded at it till he felt a warm hand grasp his forearm. It was probably a good thing too, a little more pressure and he might have cracked the glass to find himself free falling from 12-stories up.

Richard was well versed in Oliver's temperament and had let the younger man ride out his mood till now. Considering what he was going through, he was entitled to a bit of a meltdown. Squeezing Oliver's shoulder, Richard when back to his desk to glance over the files laid out across its surface. Richard rubbed his chin and frowned, his brow marred with deep lines, he suddenly looked every bit his 64 years of age. "I have a man working on the logistics behind the theft but I know you have better PI contacts than i do. You should call them."

"And hire them with what? I still have credit card debts that would send the average guy screaming for the hills, which ordinary wouldn't have been a problem. I'd have Damian pay them at the end of the month and never look at it again. Now I have to find a way to stall off the banks till I find some way to play them before they try to take what little I have left. Cause oh right, I can't sell any of the limos or the new jet because they all belong to Queen Industries, which I no longer own. I can't even afford you!"

Richard snorted. "Not that you'd know anything about that."

Oliver gave him a skeptical look. Was Richard trying to say he'd been a pro-bono case from the onset? He was sure he'd seen payments to Richard's firm on the books over the years. Unless they'd all been for Queen Industries business transactions. He watched Richard wave him off and chuckle at his expression.

"Your father... never mind. You don't have to worry about the legal side of things. I'll handle everything you need done. It'll be taken care of. And you're not as done over as you think."

Oliver dropped into the chair opposite Richard's desk and quirked an eyebrow. "Now how do you figure that? He's sent me back to the stone age. The call I got before was from my landlord. Their withdrawal was rejected and I have till the end of the month to clean out, since that's all the bond will cover me for."

Richard sat on the corner of his desk with a small smile. "One of the few perks of being executor of your parent's estate, I know a few things nobody else does."

"Don't keep me in suspense," Oliver snarked, rolling his eyes.

"They couldn't touch your property trust because not even you can liquidate it," he said his lips quirking in satisfaction. "Your father had specific caveats, the properties could never be sold, only bequeathed to the next of kin. In the event of there being none, it would be donated to The Queen Fund in it's entirety to be used as they deemed fit."

Oliver smiled bitterly. "Good thing I'm still kicking then. I guess I could move back to the Manor, lease out the ranch in Texas and the house in Chicago. Live off the earnings and get another job while the courts play everything out."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Who's gonna hire a colossal screw up? You know Duncan's gonna make this public record."

"Like I said, we're handling things. You know, you could always pick up law."

Oliver snorted. "Still not taking you up on that. Didn't before, not gonna happen now."

"Am I such a terrible boss?"

Oliver shrugged. "I'm not good with anyone as my boss. It's why CEO was such a good fit."

"Things change, Ollie. One of life's lessons I always wanted you to understand was the gift of problems. Too many heirs of fortune are sheltered from all of life's problems. They have someone there to pay their traffic infringements, someone's paid their way into an Ivy League school, they have ten of daddy's platinum credit cards, they never know what it is to come from nothing. And when it's gone, they're finished. They never had to deal with the small stuff, so when the big problems come along and their safety net has disappeared -- you've seen the tabloids. It's never pretty. I've been there for you behind the scenes, watching, ready to help but I never stopped you from making your own choices and living with the consequences. I've seen you through many tough times, you'll make it through this too."

Oliver stayed silent, nodding numbly at Richard's words. It wasn't enough that he'd lost the people that he cared about most. Fate thought it fit to take everything that made him who he was now. How could he be Green Arrow with no equipment? How could he run JL operations with no money? People were going to suffer for his mistakes. If he'd been playing closer attention to his own backyard instead of trying to control Lex's these people would never have gotten away with their scheme.

"The FBI will here in the morning to get your statement. I'll have Shelley put together a list of all the information we'll need to have for them, and we'll write up a play-by-play account of your whereabouts when all these heists were taking place."

Oliver nodded. His brain not really mulling over Richard's words anymore. He was thinking about how to dull the ache that was taking over his whole body. He'd done his best to ignore it. The first stab had come when Clark had looked at him with accusing eyes. It had started to spread through his chest when Dinah had walked out of his door without a backward glance, it had threatened to cripple him when he'd taken in the faces of the board all staring at him with disappointment and disdain. He'd barely made it the few blocks to Richard's building before the tremors started. His hands were shaking, he kept his fists clenched to hide the movement. The ache was going to swallow him up. He had to get out, he had to drown out the voices in his head. He had to cure the fire in his blood that threatened violence. Bourbon, would fix it. It'd make him feel calmer, more in control. Maybe a bottle or two and this would all seem like a bad dream. He ran a hand over his face, some old habits you could never kick. Whatever he did, he needed to get out of Richard's office and out from under his sympathetic gaze before he cracked again.

That night

Oliver didn't know how it happened, but he'd gotten pulled into a high-stakes back room poker game. After leaving Richard's office he'd spent the rest of the afternoon in Rusty's Bar. He'd drunk two companions under the table before taking a nap in a corner booth. He'd missed a phone call from Richard, no surprise considering he'd destroyed his phone and had woken up to Shelley shaking him around six o'clock.

Richard's secretary had passed on some 'good news'. Even though the board had felt justified in their actions - evidently they'd run up a list of incriminating mishandling aside from this latest debacle - they'd been gracious enough to offer him a consultant's position working out of LuthorCorp in Metropolis, on the proviso that he would remain an invisible part of the company, reporting directly to Duncan. The new owner was someone by the name of Alexander Powers. The man had yet to claim his windfall and Richard can't find much on him, other than the fact that he was an American business man with various substantial holdings across the globe. The man was a complete enigma there were no business articles, no press conference footage, not even a photo. The firm were going to get an information specialist to dig up something more. Oliver knew that was code for going under the table and breaking a few federal laws.

Oliver had half listened to her speaking before passing out when she'd stopped to check her messages. She must have been done with him, because she didn't bother him again and when he woke up later, she was already gone.

It was smokey, the only light in the room was the one globe above the table and there was a noisy radiator in the corner that kept breaking his concentration. Not that his brain was very clear to begin with. They'd already played three hands. The pot now included his 2k Omega, platinum watch and his custom built Yamaha, currently his only means of transportation. He had two vintage cars - a classic 1967 Shelby and a Hurtan Albaycin both of which were his father's but they were out of reach at the moment, sitting in the Manor garage 40-miles away.

He'd lost, not surprising considering he was having trouble even keeping upright and he'd been force to take a taxi back to his apartment. The bartender had spotted him the ride. Only fair, in Oliver's mind, considering it was his establishment that had robbed him of the rest of his valuable possessions, the two hundred dollars he kept in this wallet and the losses in the illegal poker game. Who'd have thought that this was how Oliver Queen would wind-up this week. Oh right, most definitely his double who was living it up on a Greek Island somewhere while toasting his indignity of being sprawled across the back seat of a rank, greasy, snail-paced cab that charged a premium rate. The door man had called security to help him to his penthouse. Oliver had spent the the next day in a daze, eating pizza and getting so plastered the police had turned up to find out what the ruckus was about. Not to mention he'd missed his meeting with Richard and the FBI agent.

Oliver had sobered a little after that. Pouring the rest of the bottle of Jack Daniels down the sink, he had stumbled his way to the bathroom, passing out in the bathtub till dark. It was around 7.30 when he woke again. The water had long turned cold and he could barely feel his toes. He hadn't shaved or eaten properly since yesterday. Climbing out of the bath, he felt his stomach growl and the room spin. Oliver put his hand to his head and waited for his equilibrium to return to normal. Pulling the bath plug, he turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat. When it was hot enough, he climbed back in and stood under the spray. After a few minutes he could feel pins and needles starting, he waited a couple more minutes before shutting the water off and climbing out.

Tying a towel around his waist, he padded out of the bedroom. The pizza had been left out all day and was already stale and for the first time he noticed that his kitchen didn't actually smell very good.

Running back for the bathroom, he made it to greet the porcelain express before he emptied the contents of his stomach. Getting to his feet unsteadily, he stared in the mirror. He's face was pale and his cheeks were slightly sunken. When had he stopped eating properly? He searched his memory for his last wholesome meal and couldn't find anything in the past month. He'd survived on protein bars while on the move as Green Arrow and on alcohol, appetizers, and the occasional take out order during business hours. His gaze drifted to the emblem beside the mirror. He'd been so busy playing catch up at the office that he hadn't patrolled since being back in Star City.

While that was good for his public image, throwing off any connection that Oliver Queen and Green Arrow might have in appearances, it didn't bode well for the streets.

Donning his gear, Oliver had been out the window in under thirty minutes. He really should have had a snack gone to bed. He'd been thinking that he couldn't screw up any more than he already had. He'd been wrong.

After stopping a drunk driver from plowing through the front window of a dry cleaning shop, using two of his trick arrows and a grappling line, Oliver had felt pretty good about himself. His mind in patrol mode, he'd momentarily forgotten his personal misery. At least until things had turned pear-shaped. On his return route, he had head a scuffle. Investigating, he noticed Olivia's car and immediately sprung into action. If he'd thought to use his binoculars first, he would have realized the guy had no weapon. if he'd stopped for even a second he would have seen that the guy was on the lean side and that his voice was put on. Instead Oliver had taken the shots, happy to teach the criminal a lesson. Thinking that this might even lessen his debt to Richard that seemed insurmountable at the moment. Instead he'd made a mistake. The incriminating glare of one Olivia King had been enough to make him sweat in his boots.

He was so royally screwed. The fates weren't done stripping him down yet.

The next morning

Oliver woke up in his bed, completely unaware of how he got there. He lay there for awhile staring that the ceiling, recounting the events of last night in his head. As the pieces slowly fell into place, the ringing in his ears got louder and the spots in his vision more numerous. He closed his eyes again. How much had he drunk again when he got home?

"Stupid, stupid," he growled to himself. Wasn't there a rule that you shouldn't try to shoot anyone while drunk? You weren't supposed to show up to work under the influence or drive a car. He's stopped a DUI last night and he'd been traveling zip line and wielding a bow and arrow. He'd officially crossover to the dark-side. Any minute now they were going to come barreling through his door to arrest him.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his temples. Aspirin wasn't going to cut it but he deserved this headache for trying to drown his problems in the bottom of a bottle again. He looked around his room. It was a lot cleaner than he remembered.

It was then that he noticed a familiar tightness around his biceps and forearms. He was still wearing some of his GA gear and a pair of boxes he didn't remember putting on. With a frown, he got out of bed and went to the bathroom. It was tidy in there too. As he stared into the mirror, the rampage he'd taken last night came back in full force. After he'd come back from patrolling he'd thrown practically everything he'd gotten his hands on. He'd been out of control, frustrated with himself, angry at life but most of all he hated how completely alone he felt. He felt like he'd truly lost everything - more than just the money, he'd lost his friends and he'd lost their respect.

Maybe Nona had come back and cleaned up after him. His housekeeper wouldn't ask any questions, she'd been with him so long that she knew he could be a little unpredictable. However, partying naked was something he hadn't done in years. He'd have to buy her an extra big box of her favorite Spanish chocolate in apology for his abysmal behavior.

His was dreading the Green Arrow room. He'd been particularly destructive in there. For a frightening second he wondered if he'd trashed his system. Victor would have a fritz. He reluctantly pulled the secret lever and waited with baited breath. He deflated with another frown when he saw everything neatly displayed exactly as it should be. He wondered if he'd hallucinated his tantrum until his eyes fell on two broken arrows lying on his glass-top desk.

Numbly, he walked over and picked them up. They were stained with blood and dried bloody finger prints dotted the shafts. The answer to all his questions hit him in an instant. Olivia. The clean up, moving him to the bed, the Green Arrow room. Oliver gripped the arrows tightly and clenched his jaw. Growing up, she'd always been unnaturally intuitive. If he'd gotten them into trouble, she'd always found them away out of it. He could never beat her at anything except for archery, but considering her talent at darts, Oliver was beginning to suspect she let him win. In his youth he'd teased her relentlessly about being a nerd and a daddy's girl. He'd embarrassed her more times than he cared to remember and he'd been especially callous when they'd attended the same functions. She'd always been so proper and he'd resented how acceptable she was. She made it seem effortless, whereas nothing he did impressed anyone. So he'd stopped before ever really trying. All these years and she never once shut him out. No matter how many times he left her waiting somewhere or he'd cut their calls short, or skipped town for months on end without so much as a goodbye.

Oliver remembered telling Lois that he never regretted leaving anyone behind. He hadn't, not until this moment and he realized the friendships he'd abused, the people he took for granted. Olivia had every right to despise him for the way he'd treated her, but that was something about the Kings, their grace seemed to have no limits. At least not where he was concerned. His Excelsior buddies had not so subtly hinted that Olivia must have had a crush on him. It had made him cruel to her. At the time he excused it as acceptable adolescent behavior. To him she was like his little sister. It had been the only way he could think of to try and push her away. And for awhile it had worked, she'd stayed away from him. It wasn't till he looked her up in college that he'd seen her again. And she'd been the same girl he'd always known, sweet, and too smart for her own good.

Now she knew that he was Green Arrow. What was she going to say? He knew instinctively that she'd keep his secret. Taking the arrows in the first place had been her way of protecting him. What had it cost her to do that? He went to his system and boot up. The first thing he did was check hospital admissions. He'd find the kid and somehow he'd set things right. Then he'd figure out how he was going to fix things with Olivia.

Oliver found what he who he was looking for at Star City Metro. The boy was still sleeping, but he'd told the nurse that he'd tracked down the father. The man had already lodged a missing persons with the police. The local precinct were going to be sending someone over in an hour. One look at the dad and Oliver knew why the boy had run away. He looked like the kind of man that got skunk drunk and then laid all his problems on his kid. Looking at the boy in the hospital bed, Oliver felt even worse. He'd called in a favor to one of his psychologist friends to talk with the boy and his father. Then he had contacted the administrator of The Queen Fund. Once he had the boy's name it had been easy to arrange for them to help him. If the doc deemed the boy's father unfit, there would be a place for the kid at Orchid Bay School, a Queen funded, fully-chartered prep school. He'd have a safe place to stay and learn, giving him the best start to life he could have.

It was only ten o'clock and he felt a little better knowing he'd done something right for a change. He'd screwed up so much lately, he hoped that by helping the kid, he was starting back on the right path. The lookouts at the top of Star Bridge weren't very busy this time of year, the air chill alone chased away even the best of enthusiasts. The fog also obscured almost the whole cityscape from view so it was no use for sight seeing, but it was a great place to think. You were above the clouds, it was quiet and on a day like to day, you could guarantee you'd be completely alone.

"Thought I'd find you here."

Oliver almost jumped out of his skin, teeth-chattering as he turned in search of his friend. He found Hal hovering to his right, a green glow emerging from the mist. "Not at all conspicuous."

Hal chuckled. "It's the uniform."

"Back from where this time?"

"A little planet called Ameridos on the outer rim. Stopped a renegade from stirring up trouble. He pitches himself as a bounty hunter but he doesn't play by anyone's rules and doesn't care who gets hurt so long as he gets paid. He's in lock down for skipping bail for the last lot of charges he failed to serve."

Oliver snorted. "A bounty hunter who skips bail."

"He never worked for the Guardians if you're thinking about the irony there." Hal folded his arms and drifted down, coming to stand next to Oliver who was leaning on the safety railing.

"Someone played me and took everything I have. Richard's calling it identity fraud and I have an interview with the FBI this afternoon. Thing is, I'm thinking that this is penance somehow for things I've done. Mistakes I've made. I have a strong case but it'll go to the courts and they'll put me under the microscope. Something I can't really afford, considering..."

"You're a vigilante and there are some who consider your methods terrorist-like in nature."

Oliver shot Hal with a narrowed look, who lifted his shoulders with a shrug.

"I only speak the truth," Hal said defensively, his lips quirking in a grin.

"Humph, well as I was saying, I don't think it's fair that shareholders and taxpayers should foot the bill for something I let happen. Richard said something that got me thinking that I should use this as an opportunity. To make something else of myself, be someone better. I don't know maybe try Zen philosophy or something, help me focus."

Oliver studied Hal. He'd rarely seen his friend so quiet or lost in thought. He was staring off into the clouds, seemingly looking at nothing.

"There's a place in Ladhak, Himalayas. I had to bail out there once, engine malfunction. Got lost in the mountains for days before I stumbled onto a monastery. One of the most restful and enlightening experiences I've ever had. Spent a couple of weeks there before they found a guide to take me to the nearest town with a phone. Never believed in destiny or fate before this Green Lantern stuff but I always felt that I was supposed to have gone there. It gave me a better understanding of culture and helped me see what I really needed for myself."

Oliver stared at him in disbelief. "Never took you for an inner peace kind of guy, always thought the 24/7 upbeat outlook was just part of the GL package."

Hal chuckled. "Nope, there are some grumpy Green Lanterns out there. You should meet John, he used to be a Drill Sargent. Never can relax."

"I have to see, Richard. You gonna be around for awhile?"

Hal shook his head. "Just a fly by. Wanted to surprise someone," he said with a wink. "Be safe, Ollie. I hope things get better." Hal gave him a nod before he flew off.

"Yeah, so do I," Oliver said to himself.

Richard's office

The older man looked perplexed before a slow smile spread across his face. "You want me to tell them to drop the investigation."

"This is my opportunity for a clean slate. Anything I do from now on is completely up to me. I don't have to answer to anyone. I don't have to worry about my father's business or investor satisfaction, I don't have to worry about my public image..."

"They're not going to leave you alone because you're not on the Forbes rich-list anymore, Oliver."

Oliver nodded and grimaced. "I guess you're right there but if I disappear for awhile, this will have a chance to die down and when I get back I plan on living differently."

"Less flamboyant?" Richard asked with a quirked brow.

Oliver chuckled. "I don't want my whole life for the past year or more picked apart by lawyers, agents and whoever else takes a fancy to this-- whatever we're calling it. If the bank agrees to pay out the outstanding debts as compensation, we can settle this all out of court, right?"

"I'll make them the offer, if that's what you really want. Can you live with letting this guy go?"

Oliver stood up and smiled. "Oh, I'm not letting him off. I'll track him down eventually. I'll just settle that one myself."

"And Queen Industries?"

"Try to get it back. Give it to Duncan. He might be a real piece of work but he knows business and my father hired him."

"That's it?" Richard leaned back in his chair studying the man he considered as his own son. There was a change to him, a renewed vigor, a sense of purpose in his eyes. Two days ago, he'd seen a man defeated and recklessly aggressive ready to strike out at anyone who crossed his path. This man was the opposite, calm and resolute despite his circumstances.

"I guess so." Oliver shrugged.

"What happened last night?" Richard asked.

For one panicked moment, Oliver thought that Richard might know everything. That he'd pieced together Oliver's reluctance to submit to the FBI's complete history analysis. Or that Olivia had told him. He shook off the thought and flashed his trademark grin. "I had a defining moment. Gave me a little perspective. You don't really find out you're headed in the wrong direction till you hit the dead end."

"Where are you planning to go?"

"Here and there, maybe visit a few old friends."

"You got enough to get you started?" Richard knew that Oliver would never ask for charity and he was ready to phrase it just right if the younger man needed money.

Oliver nodded. "I told the super that I could be out in a couple of days if he had someone waiting to lease. Seems someone up there's cutting me a break, because they had a waiting list for my building. The bond's enough to get me where I need to go. Thanks for everything, Richard," Oliver said extending his hand. The older man gripped it and pumped it heartily.

"Take care of yourself, son," Richard said with tears in his eyes. "Leave a number with Shelley, so we can reach you. If we need to."

"Will do." With a wave, Oliver strode out of Richard's office and a few hours later, out of Star City.

Author's Notes: It's great to see that I'm not the only one who wants to have this story happen. Thank you Guardian of Vampires for putting this on alert. :) And Talk-Ape, thanks for reviewing.