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 Russian Winter, Felicity
John Diggle
 Posted: May 9 2013, 09:53 PM
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[Co-Thread with "What Lay Beneath"]

Diggle had parked several blocks away close to an alley where he could slip in and out unseen so no one connected the vigilante with his car. If there'd been time maybe he'd found other transportation, but John had to move between addresses quickly before they ran out of time. The whole thing rattled his nerves, not that anyone could tell if they gazed into his eyes. He wasn't CIA secretly operating on domestic soil or part of a Black Ops group chasing terrorists. Diggle was just an inactive Army Ranger that'd served his time for the country, came home, and hope to make a little difference state-side. Now here he was taking law and justice into his own hands, ready to kill again to protect the innocent like domestic soil was suddenly a war zone. And he'd had enough of war.

Minutes later, after leaving Oliver's underground thing, Diggle had taken to the high ground atop the second address Felicity had pointed out; something about its location suggested it'd be a suitable place to launch an assault on the Police. He slowed as he neared the side of the building. Quietly he descended the fire-escape before checking one of the windows. Carefully he worked it open and slipped into the dark confines.

It didn't take long to find a large, open room with voices coming from it. The hooded figure crept close to a door that led out onto a walkway overhead. Gently laying the tips of his fingers upon the doorknob, Diggle turned it and drew the door back to peer down into that room.

After a few seconds he touched the earpiece, "Felicity," hopefully Oliver hadn't gotten cheap purchasing his equipment, "I think I found them. I see four, so far. Any updates?" Wouldn't want to jump the wrong Russian mobsters if the ones they were after already made a move. Not that Diggle expected Russians were quietly invading the city.
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Felicity Smoak (1)
 Posted: May 14 2013, 05:36 AM
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Would it be terrible if Felicity had Netflix running on one of the screens while she trawled the net? Okay, so admittedly watching arrested Development was probably taking a little of her attention away from what she was supposed to be doing. Of course, the alternative was that she could be distracted by the fact that she was all alone in a vigilante’s lair. Neither option seemed like the best recipe for productivity, but this way seemed better. Still, she kept looking, looking for anything in the news, anything that looked like it might be relevant.

It had been a while since she’d come across anything of use, but she kept looking, kept working. What this place needed was a cappuccino machine. Maybe some sort of vending machine, too. Chocolate and coffee would definitely make this a whole lot easier.

She jumped slightly at the sound of Diggle’s voice. Despite the fact that there was no one there too see, she looked embarrassed and used a fingertip to adjust her glasses. Were there cameras? She looked around as she answered the incoming message. It seemed kind of unlikely that somewhere like this wouldn’t have security. “Hi, nothing to report yet. I’m still looking for anything I can find. News reports, police bulletins.” She sighed unhappily and gave a slight shake of her head. “I’m not seeing any kind of unusual police activity. Looks like it’s how we thought; they have no idea what’s coming.” She hated this; she officially hated this. She’d kind of thought that she hated her job, but this right here was a completely different level of hate.

“Do you think you can handle four? You’re the soldier slash stand in vigilante, so I’m not going to try to tell you how to do your job, but if there’s a small group you can deal with, that’s better than waiting until their friends come along, right?”

//I think it'll probably just be easier to post everything here?


I should add “Personal Internet Researcher for Oliver Queen” to my job title… Happily, I mean.
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John Diggle
 Posted: May 15 2013, 09:57 PM
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"Short answer: usually," Diggle replied not wanting to discuss in length the different scenarios you had to take into account. Were there any Russians on a smoke break? Out in the hallway? In an adjoining room? What if they were en route, maybe it'd be better to wait until they were all together; or maybe it would be better take four now and deal with the rest when they arrived? One or more partners helped make all these scenarios less of a problem to deal with; but on your own you had to keep a mental note about anything you could use for cover in a split second when someone busted in behind you.

"Going in."

John slipped out onto the walkway, careful to distribute his weight evenly with each step to remain as quiet as possible. He popped up straight when he got into position while drawing back the first arrow. The second Russian started to drop before the other two could register what was going on. This posed a problem, however. If Diggle remained where he was the other two Russians would draw and fire on him and/or escape out the nearest door and warn any friends. Unless these guys were slow with their trigger finger, there was a good chance one of them would get a shot off before the fourth arrow took to the air. Only one option remained, really, which he'd anticipated and had already assumed the right place on the walkway to make it happen.

As the Russians turned, John launched himself over the railing. A green blur came crashing down on them as they'd been standing next to a wooden table looking over some papers nearby. The three bodies went down in a heap, Diggle rolling as free from the other two as he could and spreading the impact over the length of his body to come to a fast stop and avoid serious injury.

Diggle and one of the Russians looked over at each other before they both moved to get back to their feet. The other Russian was shaking his head and began to get up once his fellow compatriot was no longer laying partially on top of his body.

The man drew a blade and went for Diggle's neck, which the trained solider evaded with ease. Two quick jabs followed up, but on the third the 'Vigilante' grabbed hold of the Russian's wrist and gave it a sharp twist as he stepped in toward the other man. The sharp pain helped loosen fingers and slowed the man's ability to prevent being thrown over Diggle's shoulder and down onto the hard floor.

A quick turn and he kicked one foot under the bow before giving it a sharp tug upward. Last Russian standing had closed his fingers about a discarded gun and was bring it to bear when the bow bashed into his hand and sent the gun flying. A quick spin away from the Russian put Diggle on the man's side as he tried to charge. By that time he already had an arrow set and sailing. The large man staggered and dropped to a knee beside the table. The Russian Diggle had thrown looked up into the wounded man's eyes and together they planned one to act as a shield as the other threw a knife at The Hood.

Unfortunately for them, their moment of desperation in some fashion was evident. A second arrow joined the first and toppled the large Russian over obscuring the vision of one closer to the ground. When it cleared just a second later, Diggle had the advantage of knowing the man's position while the Russian spent a fraction of a second finding the Vigilante's. All four down, he let out a deep breath not finding any enjoyment in another slaughter, but these people weren't going to 'talk it over.'

John reached up to contact Felicity when he heard a sound from a nearby office. Quickly he moved toward the lit room and drew another arrow. From outside he couldn't make out who was in there, but he knew there was at least one.

As he burst into the room, there was only one Russian, but the man's attention was on the suitcase in front of him. A gun pointed at it, Diggle didn't have time to ask and the man didn't bother to tell before a bullet tore through the open, top half of the case. Surprisingly it sparked like an electronic device. The gun rose to the hooded figure next, prompting Diggle to lance an arrow into the man's hand. A second one slammed the Russian into the back wall through his shoulder.

He stepped around the desk and his brow furrowed immediately finding the suitcase was more than a means of transporting personal effects. It was a mobile, military command station. Particularly for a military-grade drone. John turned and forced his forearm against the Russian's neck so they could meet eye-to-eye, "What's the code to disarm it?"

"Иди к черту," the Russian sneered before grimacing from the pain.

Diggle stepped back and touched the transmitter before setting the bow on the desk and turning the case on its side, "Felicity, the Russians are down, but they have a military-grade drone and I think it's already in the air." He drew another arrow and began working to crack open the case -- carefully in case it was rigged to self-destruct on tampering. "They shot out the screen. Can you locate this thing by its satellite ICCID?" Find the device, get its IP address, hack in, stop the drone. Sounded simple in Diggle's head, which probably meant it wasn't simple. "8930272040000001234Charlie."
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Felicity Smoak (1)
 Posted: May 20 2013, 04:36 PM
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“Usually,” Felicity echoed with a roll of her eyes and a heartfelt grimace. That was not exactly the sort of reassurance that she’d been looking. What she really would have liked was something along the lines of a ‘no problem,’ or a ‘four guys is nothing, I can beat off four guys before breakfast.’

On second thoughts, probably not the second one.

“Good luck,” she said uncertainly. No, that really didn’t sound right, did it? “Break a leg?” She paused, not at all convinced that that sounded at all better. “Theirs! Not yours.” Okay, now that was a little better.

There wasn’t really much that she could do from there. She couldn’t see or hear what was happening. All she could do was sit and listen and hope that none of the noises that she was hearing were Diggle getting hurt. She didn’t think that they were, but it wasn’t like he was narrating for her. She just clasped her hands together and hoped for the best.

Finally, she breathed a sigh of relief when Diggle spoke to her again. It was shortly followed by a gasp when he announced that the Russians had a drone in the air. She didn’t know how they had access to one of those. That couldn’t have been easy to come by. As quickly as she could, Felicity tried to scribble down a note of the number that Diggle had read off. “Slow down?” she pleaded. She was good with computers, sure, but that didn’t mean that she was one. Once she had the number down, though, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Right, okay,” she said as much to assure herself as to speak to Diggle. This was sort of new, definitely a learning experience. Why, she’d just found out what an ICCID was. Okay, so where to start.

She had details to track the device. That was getting ahead of herself, though. First she needed to find something that could communicate with the drone. Apparently, these things were normally controlled by ground control stations and a satellite uplink. Finding out what satellites were up there was surprisingly easy. From there, it was just a matter of hacking into something that could communicate with the satellite and then hacking into unfamiliar military technology. How hard could that be? A TV studio seemed and then proved to be the easiest option. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. “Assuming I actually manage to get control of this thing… what do I do with it?”


I should add “Personal Internet Researcher for Oliver Queen” to my job title… Happily, I mean.
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John Diggle
 Posted: May 24 2013, 08:51 PM
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The Last Russian went down and Diggle was already on his way out of the building with what was left of the mobile drone control station as Felicity came back over the ear piece. "If you can fly it, get it into the river or somewhere it can detonate without hurting anyone. Don't try to land it." The last bit he threw in there just as an out for Felicity so she didn't feel like it was an option, Diggle just didn't mention it. He mentioned it because the thing was a bomb waiting for a place to explode. Better they got rid of it than risk someone getting killed.

Carefully navigating his way back, the cloaked figure dropped the case into his passenger seat before shutting the door behind him. "I'm heading to the Precinct now with the satellite control. If there's anything you need, Felicity, let me know." Not that he knew what that could be with the Russians down -- and they weren't very social anyway -- but again he was making it all very clear for a woman that'd never been in this position before. Somethings might slip her mind in the heat of the moment, and he'd understand completely.

If, however, she couldn't stop the drone Diggle wanted to be near the scene to do whatever he could to shoot the drone down -- extraordinarily difficult to do with a gun or bow -- or at least help with survivors. Not that John was looking to give Oliver any Public Relations bolstering by a news crew capturing clips of the Hood pulling people out of the ruins. The attention wasn't worth the cost by a long shot.

Diggle's hands wrapped about the steering wheel tightly as he quickly made his way through the maze of a city. Now it was up to Felicity. Either way it went, he'd have to thank her for being so damn calm throughout the whole ordeal. Guess Oliver wasn't just picking whoever happened to be convenient -- that was reassuring.
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Felicity Smoak (1)
 Posted: May 28 2013, 09:16 AM
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“Don’t land it, got it.” Felicity breathed a sigh of relief. She was pretty sure that that would be difficult. Pointing it one way was one thing. Fine control was something else altogether. Admittedly, there was at least a teeny tiny part of her that wanted to see what she could do with it. Of course, even that was a couple of steps away yet. She still didn’t have control of the thing. The clock was ticking. That thing was moving fast and it was still not responding to her commands. “Jeez, anyone would think that the military didn’t want strangers taking control of their hardware,” she muttered under her breath.

“What would I need?” she asked, as much to herself as to Diggle. There was probably something that she was missing. Okay, not to panic. Focus on what’s on front of her, focus on peeling back the layers of security and gaining control of the drone. Suddenly, she was in. She had control of the drone. “Diggle! I- I have it. Oh my god, I have it.” An awkward, strained laugh of relief exploded from her lips. With her keyboard, she didn’t quite have fine control, but she could direct it upwards to keep it clear of the buildings. A bit more typing and she had a feed from the drone’s cameras on one of her monitors.

“This is kind of cool. Also scary.” There was a certain separation from reality through the camera. It was easy to imagine being in control of an attack drone without realising that you were firing on real targets.

“Okay,” she murmured to herself as she stirred the drone towards the river. As it plummeted, she fired off a distress call and did all she could to erase any signs of her intrusion. She wasn’t too keen on the thought of being responsible for military technology falling into the wrong hands, or having someone notice the involvement of her wrong hands.


I should add “Personal Internet Researcher for Oliver Queen” to my job title… Happily, I mean.
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John Diggle
 Posted: Jun 1 2013, 08:38 PM
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"Stay focused," Diggle responded when Felicity noted it was cool and scary. His voice wasn't stern, just directed. Again, he kept in mind that he -- they -- were asking a lot of someone they pulled in off the street and asked to play 'Rambo.' He just didn't want her getting swept up with having control of a flying aircraft, because under other circumstances it would be pretty tempting to take it for a spin. In this case, however, one miscalculation could cause a bomb to go off somewhere in the city and get people killed. Diggle just wanted to provide a little extra grounding in the moment.

After a few seconds, Diggle stopped down the block from the Precinct. "Felicity? Is it down?" He sat in the car with a quick check of all his mirrors. Her responses were somewhat vague right now whether the danger had passed. A dark look flicked over to the passenger seat where the control case sat with a hole in its top. It still bothered him the Russians managed to get hold of something like that in the first place.

So, he thought, if this was over. If Felicity do it... what was Diggle going to do about Oliver? Or maybe he should be worried what Oliver thought he had to do about Felicity and him now. He was involved with the Russian mob, and was a vigilante running around town killing people. Tonight suggested he meant well, but the road to hell was paved with good intentions -- one of the first lessons you learn at war. They knew little about Oliver, and nothing about his motives. How far was he prepared to go? When would it end?

For now, Diggle waited to hear the all clear from Felicity; then he'd return to the club, put the equipment back, disable the case's tracking for now, and figure out where they were going from there.
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