In the words of Roger Murtaugh, Oliver Queen was getting too damn old for this shit.
More than that even, he hated it. He hated that the CIA had him dead to rights, that when they said "jump", he was supposed to say "how high" instead of "go suck sand", but the truth was... they-- Eddie-- had something on him. And with Eddie's connections... well Ollie wasn't sure which side Eddie landed on, really. He acted like he was his friend, then took the first opportunity to bend him over a barrel. It was very confusing. Ollie never had liked mixed signals and that was when they were coming from gorgeous women, not from ginger snipers with the CIA who were constantly hitting on his girlfriend.
Ahem. Ex-girlfriend.
But aside from all of that, he'd enjoyed Madripoor, as much as he could. And for some reason as he booked it towards the arriving jet with gunfire erupting behind him, all he could think of was that Don Henley song, All She Wants To Do Is Dance. He tucked and rolled up the landing ramp to give himself a little extra momentum, and waved to the pilot and crew to get this bird back in the air before they were grounded indefinitely.
As the landing ramp closed again, Ollie let loose one final, parting shot before he flopped onto his back and dropped his bow next to him, panting for breath. And humming,
"'... barely make the airport for the last plane out, "As we taxied down the runway I could hear the people shout, "They said 'don't come back here, Yankee' but if I ever do, "I'll bring more money..."
Recovering his breath, he turned lolled his head to one side to see... boots. Combat boots. And a cats-- tactsuit covered leg. A pair of them in fact...
"...'Cause all she wants to do... is... dance?"
Ollie chuckled a little and rolled back onto his back, staring up at the roof of the plane from where he lay, "Eddie, either I got hit in the head more times than I thought, or you just got a hell of a lot more attractive."