AN: Wow guys. I have so much to say, that I don't know where to start/ First off, a good portion of this chapter was written I May before my life turned upside down. Secondly, I am doing much better since my health scare I May. Take this as truth, people, Please DO NOT SMOKE! It is not worth it. Since,I know people are going to ask, I had a stoke that affected the left side of my body. I still do not have any control of my left hand back, styping is now hunt and peck. It was caused in part by smoking (but I am not yet 40, so proof that it can happen at any age). After a month in the hospital and 3 months of therapy, I am now living back at home, but so help me, that's been a pain. My laptop died, so I had to get a new one and then figure out how to transfer all of my music (which I am still trying to do) and my various stories).

finally, this goes a little bit into establishing a possible relationship between our favorite couple, as well as giving some info about Oliver's 5 years in Russia.

Thanks for all the kudos, favorites ad reviews they inspire my muse to write o this story and on my original.

Chapter Ten: The Beginning

By the time the sun rose, Oliver had already been up for several hours. After his conversation with Lance the previous evening, he had reached out to Anatoly to see what Sara's training had actually entailed. He was pleased to learn that she had been trained rigorously and Anatoly had stated that she had outshone most of her male counterparts. The older man had sounded relieved when Oliver had stated he wanted her as part of his brigade. Oliver surmised that Sara had caused some upheaval as the Bratva was not known for letting women being a part of the actual business. Behind the men who were running the business, most definitely. Even Anatoly's wife, Valeria, was just an ornament when any members of the Bratva were around.

As he began his morning run around the property, he thought back to his time in Russia and the months he spent recovering from the plane crash.

When Oliver awoke from the plane crash, he could barely open his eyes and when he finally did, he wished he hadn't. His father was still sitting in the seat across from him, but covered in blood with eyes that were staring into nothing. It took longer than he had liked to realize that the man who had just rocked his world beliefs was dead. When the realization hit, he knew that he wasn't far behind him as his own vision wavered. As the darkness settled over him, he heard indistinct voices in the distance.

When he awoke again, he was warm and lying on a comfortable bed. He briefly thought that he had imagined the plane crash and he was back in his bedroom in Starling City. Once his eyes opened, he knew that it had not been a dream. He was in a bedroom, but one that featured dark woods and earth colors. He groaned as he turned his head, the pain shooting through his temple, but he found an older man sitting in a comfortable looking chair next to the bed.

"Good, you are awake," the man said in heavily accented English.

"Where am I?" he finally managed to respond.

"That is of no importance right now. Right now, I want to know what you remember of the crash and your father's life."

Oliver studied the man, trying to figure out how to respond as the man handed him a glass of water. After taking a couple of sips, his dry throat eased and his brain recalled the names that his father had mentioned before the plane began its sudden dive. "Who are you?" he asked, his tone distrustful.

"Anatoly Knyazev."

The name rang a bell and Oliver thought for a moment before his father's voice rang in his head. "You are the leader of the Russian Mob."

"Yes. I am the Pakhan of the Bratva. More than that, I counted your father as a friend and his death troubles me deeply. Please, you must tell me why he was coming to Russia. He did not tell me of his trip beforehand."

"Dad said that a new Captain had been announced and he had plans to dismantle the city, but he didn't give me any more information than that. Just a few names of people he knew he could trust. You were one of them."

Anatoly furrowed his brow. "I have not announced any Captain to be stationed in Starling City," he began slowly. "Forgive me. I must go. I need to gather more information. If you remember anything, anything at all, please let me know. For now, the doctors said that you have a couple of broken ribs as well as a severe concussion. You should rest for now."

Oliver felt his eyes beginning to close as the man walked out of the room.

Over the next years, he got a crash course in the mafia life. It definitely was not as portrayed in movies. Yes, there was money; yes, there were mansions and elaborate parties; yes, there was violence. What wasn't portrayed was the undercurrent of tension that those at the top felt. It hadn't been but a few weeks into his convalesce that he met Valeria, a woman who spoke not only flawless, almost unaccented English, but Mandarin, French and German as well.

Oliver knew that she was responsible for a lot of the decisions that Anatoly made; it was widely known that with any important decision Anatoly would take at least a day to come to that decision. Most men believed that it was because he was cautious and weighing the pros and cons, but Oliver knew better. He had grown up with a mother who was as smart and ambitious as his father and he had seen how his father deferred to her. Anatoly and Valeria's communication had many of the same hallmarks.

#

Felicity kept thinking about Agent Vendler's words, about how someone high up in the CIA wanted them to close this case quickly. It didn't make sense to her. On the list of threats that the Agency was currently watching, the Solntsevskaya Bratva was low on the list. Since they were not actively trying to destroy the US, the pressure that they were getting did not make sense to her. Her instincts were rarely wrong and right now her gut was screaming at her that there was more to this case then just tracking down the Russian mob. With that in mind, she was certainly going to be watching everything carefully.

She spent a sleepless night, but in the morning, she dressed carefully before heading into QC. She was the first one in the office (no surprise there as the rest of the IT department seemed to enjoy banker's hours) and settled into her desk to check to see if there had been any hacking attempts the prior evening. She didn't expect any, since the current pattern was a couple of hacking attempts spread over a few days. Plus, she had upgraded the security firewalls again the prior evening, getting closer to what she was used to using at the CIA. With no red flags, she got to work on a list of requisitions.

#

Valeria introduced herself as soon as Anatoly ad brought him to his home, which was much bigger and more lavish than Queen Mansion. Oliver had been impressed. She was nothing like he'd expected for the leader of the most feared mob in Russia. He'd expected a trophy wife, not a high powered business woman

The he realized that the Bratva was essentially a business and it was Valeria's job to run that business, at least the administration of it, while Anatoly took care of any violent aspects of it. Thinking back at the lessons she had drilled into him about the way a proper Bratva business was run, at least at the Captain level and above. They were always run by the wives. He needed to break himself away from his previous playboy ways, since the type of beautiful and intelligent woman he needed, were definitely not the bimbos he used to associate with. Where could he find such a woman? The only one that came to mind was Laurel, but she with him bringing Sara into his brigade, that was just asking to be murdered in his sleep.