Virtues by InSilva
Disclaimer: not mine.
Summary: Sometimes, con men can be extremely virtuous: sometimes, the extremes of virtues are not healthy places to be. One-shot.
A/N: yes, yes, three bits of fic at once. This is what happens when long train journeys are involved. :)
Justice…
"You're quiet."
It was a statement with a question attached and Rusty flicked him a half-smile of acknowledgement.
"Heard something today." He saw Danny waiting patiently. "Gary Armstrong's widow."
"Monica?"
"Yeah. Took Gary's coin collection in to a private auction house to be valued. A nice Mr Hamilton told her what he thought it was worth."
"Something below market value?"
"Something so far below that you'd have to be a character in a Jules Verne novel to find it."
"And you're going to tell me-"
"It's not right, Danny."
Danny's eyes were resigned and amused all at the same time and the sentimental was saying yes and of course and the hard-nosed wanted to ask a few more details.
"It isn't tricky," Rusty said. "Well…" he broke off and thought and then, "no. It's not all that."
"But it might be something if we get caught."
Rusty grinned cheerfully. "It would be a good idea not to."
Prudence…
The apartment was on the corner of the seventh floor of the building. Nice views over Central Park. A comfortable place for a man who liked to take advantage of others.
Rusty memorised layout and tested Danny till he'd learned it too. Danny worked on the plan and the distraction and then Rusty found overalls and props and they were nearly ready. All that was required was a little tailing and observation.
"Wednesday morning," Danny said with conviction a week later and Rusty agreed.
Wednesday morning, Mr Hamilton would be in the apartment next door, being entertained by Miss Blackwell, a rich lawyer with a penchant for domination.
Wednesday morning, they could be sure Mr Hamilton would be tied up for at least an hour.
Hope…
Sometimes all the planning in the world couldn't allow for sheer bad luck. The coins were safely in his pocket and he and Danny were ambling back through the apartment block, pushing the little cleaning trolley.
They waited for the elevator and the doors opened and Lyndon Cartwright was stood in front of them. Rusty didn't hesitate. He pushed the trolley at Cartwright and then Danny's hand was pulling him away and they were running back into the building, back towards Hamilton's apartment and that probably wasn't a smart move.
"Kelvin! Tommy! Get 'em!" he heard.
Footsteps were after them and as he cannoned through the door to a stairwell and as they pounded down the concrete, he could hear pursuit and it was gaining. Cartwright was a mark from five months ago and he would be very anxious to know what had happened to his diamond shipment. Somehow, Rusty didn't think he was going to be subtle in his approach.
He was half a flight ahead of Danny and those chasing sounded like they were catching up. Fuck. Who was Cartwright employing these days? Carl Lewis? Swinging himself round the corner of the last flight, he stopped dead. The fire exit was chained up. It was against regulations and it was a killer in more ways than one. Desperately, he glanced upwards and he knew as he did so that it was too late and that they would be cornered and then he saw Danny halted at the top of the last flight.
Danny was looking at him.
Danny realised.
Danny acted.
Danny dove through the door that led out on to the second floor and before Rusty could follow, two men flew through the door after him. Rusty retraced his steps hurriedly and ran through the door but there was no one in the corridor. He looked wildly from side to side and there was no trace. It was as if Danny had disappeared from the face of the earth.
"Fuck," he said to no one and hoped that somewhere Danny heard it.
Danny would have got away. Danny must have got away. And if Danny hadn't, then Danny would be OK, he would still be OK, because Rusty would find him. Nothing would shake that thought.
Fortitude…
"Well. I believe you."
It was more difficult than he could have believed possible, but Danny raised his head and blinked up through the blood and the pain. Cartwright was holding his wallet and smiling at him genially. Everyone's favourite uncle. If everyone's favourite uncle happened to be a sadist.
"You believe me?" he croaked and wished his voice sounded stronger.
"Of course, Mr Ocean. If you haven't told me what I want to know by now, I don't see how else I can persuade you."
The persuasion had been going on for some time. Danny wasn't sure how long. Long enough apparently for Cartwright to get bored. Huh. That had to be a first. There was a gesture and one of Cartwright's boys threw open the doors to the lock-up. Bright sunlight and freedom blazed in and Danny screwed up his eyes. It had been mid-morning when he'd arrived and this was what, late afternoon?
"You may go, Mr Ocean." Cartwright was dismissive.
Danny stared at him.
"Kelvin, I think you must have hit him too hard on the head, it seems as if his hearing is damaged. You may go, Mr Ocean." The last was repeated slowly and loudly.
Disbelievingly, Danny struggled to his feet, slipping a little on his own blood. Kelvin and Tommy and Paulie stood back and away and Danny glanced over at Cartwright once more. Cartwright was scanning some paperwork.
"I should go, Mr Ocean," he said with a sigh. "Before I change my mind."
Danny swallowed. And then he moved. Slowly, limping, managing the pain, he edged past the three men with the fists and the chains and headed towards the back street, towards safety and towards-
"Of course, it does mean I need to go down an alternative route."
He was at the doorway. He grabbed the edge of the whitewashed door for support and he listened.
"I guess we're going to have to ask your friend."
It wasn't true. It wasn't true. Rusty had got away. He'd made sure that Rusty had got away.
"My friend?" he asked, buying time.
"The blond you were with. My men followed him. Found him in a bar a couple of blocks from where we found you."
Cartwright was lying. He had to be lying because Rusty wouldn't be careless enough to let himself be followed from a standing start and Danny doubted that he'd stop for a drink.
"I was waiting to see if you would crack. But you seem determined not to be any fun anymore. I shall have to see how your friend fares."
Rusty wasn't here. (But what if he was?). Rusty was safe and away. (What if he was being kept in another lock-up?). Rusty wasn't going to be hurt. (What if he was?).
Slowly, limping, managing the pain, he turned back and walked across to where Cartwright was leaning up against the wall. Cartwright looked up from the paperwork with a good affectation of surprise on his face.
"You don't want to leave?"
Danny shook his head mutely.
"You want to tell me anything?"
Another shake of the head.
"You just want to stay and play."
"Yes." Rasped.
Cartwright's eyes gleamed. He tossed the wallet on the floor and nodded over Danny's shoulder and violence arrived. When Danny could look up again, he counted one less Paulie.
Faith…
It was dark when he opened his eyes. Not that that meant anything. He was on his own. And that was good for two reasons and only bad for one, big selfish one.
They'd used the chains to string him up and they'd used their fists to punch and he'd realised that Cartwright had gambled with the one thing that Danny would never risk. Right now, he guessed, Paulie was out searching for Rusty because Cartwright knew what he needed as bargaining power. And that frightened Danny a little.
Except Rusty was smarter than Paulie could ever hope to be and Rusty would also be searching. Danny knew this for a fact. Rusty would always come for him.
So really, the question was whether Rusty would evade Cartwright long enough to find him.
And the only other question he had was whether Rusty would find him before Cartwright and his boys managed to kill him with their methods of encouragement.
But he believed in Rusty. Always and without exception. And the belief kept him warm even as the cold chains bit into him.
Restraint…
He'd been searching for hours. Turning up lead after lead and following them down the blind alleys and cul-de-sacs they had taken him to. Cartwright was not to be found. The search had grown ever more desperate because somewhere there was punishment being administered and somewhere there was pain being suffered. The knowledge ate away at him constantly even as he was asking politely and smiling nicely and doing a great deal of friendly nodding.
It was late evening before a third-hand remark suggested he try a bar over the other side of town. Someone's sister's cousin thought they'd heard that Cartwright sometimes frequented it. It seemed a very long shot but right at that moment, he wasn't even holding a pair of deuces and he guessed he could at least try.
The other side of town and the bar were found and he slid into a booth at the back and ordered a whisky and scanned the room looking for possibilities to talk to. Except that suddenly he didn't need to look. Because walking through the door and ordering drinks and looking very pleased with themselves were Cartwright and two of his men.
It took every last bit of control not to stand up and start demanding answers. He hung back in the shadows and hid his face and the gods of fortune smiled on him as the three passed him and sat down at the next table.
Conversation was casual and Rusty's fingers tightened on the whisky glass as he heard Danny's name and there were jeers and sneers and he forced himself to wait, even though it was the hardest thing in the world, and then there was laughter at the sights and sounds of pain inflicted and Rusty noted incuriously that blood was running down the back of his right hand.
Finally. Eventually. An eternity later.
"We walking back over to the lock-up tonight, Mr Cartwright?"
"Maybe in a little while, Tommy. Let's have some steak and then go check on him. Want to hear from Paulie first. See if he's caught up with the blond. We get him then we'll get what we want."
Rusty was already moving.
Love…
The door cracked open and the noise woke him from fitful, uncomfortable sleep. He lifted his head and saw streetlight and he held his breath and readied himself for another beating. And then the figure stepped through the doorway and he felt relief and fear run through him.
Arms wrapped themselves silently around his waist and lifted him up and with immense effort, he slipped the chains off the hook in the ceiling and then he fell, deadweight. The other broke his fall and they went to ground together.
Fingers worked the chains off his wrists and a hand paused to press against his cheek and then he scrabbled for his wallet and was pulled up and they were moving, stumbling and being held upright, and they were out of there.
Neither of them said a word until he was pushed into the passenger seat of the first car they came across and they were away and driving.
"He's working out of the East Side now," Rusty said tightly and there was self-blame in there at not being quicker to find out this salient fact.
"He said they had you," Danny smiled stupidly through the exhaustion and the afterburn.
Rusty glanced across at him and shook his head.
"You're the only man I know who could get beaten up and be happy about it."
But he said nothing as Danny slumped up against him and every now and then, he laid his hand on Danny's arm and squeezed gently.
A/N: don't ask me why, but these sections got written in this order: Fortitude, Faith, Love, Restraint, Hope, Prudence, Justice. Nothing like working out of sequence. :D