Please. I know what you're feeling right now, I'm feeling it too, the sense of - of helplessness, of hopelessness. I don't know how we even begin to process what might happen to us right now, but there a few things that I do know, I know that this city has been through tough times before and we have pulled through. We survived the Undertaking. We survived the Siege. We survived the outbreak, and somehow, someway, we will survive this. A friend of mine told me that living in Star City takes a special kind of tenacity, but we do live here, because this is our home. This is our home! It is our friend, our family, our lives. And we will not - we will not throw those precious gifts away by descending into chaos. We will look to each other for hope. We will cling to each other for strength, and it we do that, no matter what happens, that we all can stand here united.
Cyrus Vanch: Time's running out, and still no visit from your friend. I might have overestimated his fondness for you.
Laurel Lance: Assault with intent and kidnapping. You're gonna rot in prison for life this time.
Cyrus Vanch: That's assuming your hooded BFF saves you. And his chances of survival are not so great. He's going up against armed men with their fingers on the trigger of guns that fire up to six hundred rounds per minute. Now, I'm no Einstein, but that is a lot of bullets. And even if he were to take them out, I have two sharpshooters on the roof. And even if he were to get by them, what's he gonna do against the veritable army of sons of bitches that I've got waiting for him? Now, as I said, I'm no Einstein, but I can count to twenty-four. And in case you're wondering, I was, so I studied up on my news footage; twenty-four is the exact number of arrows he carries in his quiver and fléchettes around his forearm.
Cyrus Vanch: Lose the bow, Merida.