Title: Miami
Summary: Eliot and Natalia in action.
Disclaimer: I don't own Leverage or any of the characters associated with the show. I only claim ownership to the character that I created. Also, no profits are being made off of this story. It's only for your entertainment.
Author's Note: Alright guys. Have to say I'm a bit nervous about this one! Like the description says, this one takes place between San Lorenzo and Long Way Down in the less than two weeks that the team had off. I thought it would be a perfect time for Eliot and Natalia to meet up, but in a bit of a different context. Please let me know if anything is unclear! Hope you like it!
Chapter 1
"You rang sir?" Natalia feigned a British accent as she leaned one shoulder against the doorframe of her boss' office.
"Ah yes Moneypenny, do come in," Davis smiled, humoring her for a moment as he looked up from signing papers. He looked every inch the director of a secret agency with his as crystal blue eyes that peered over a pair of square framed glasses perched on the edge of his nose. His black hair bore highlights of silver which served as a physical manifestation of the air of gravitas that he commanded. Natalia couldn't help but wonder if she had contributed a few of those grays over the years she had been under his supervision.
"I always fancied myself as more of a James Bond actually," she dropped the accent as she clicked over to a chair on a pair of grey snakeskin pumps.
"Someone's dressed up," he looked across the cluttered glass of his desk top at the assassin seated on the opposite side.
She slipped a black blazer off of her shoulders, revealing a white cowl neck t-shirt tucked into a black pencil skirt. "I had lunch with a friend."
Davis stared at her with a smirk and a quirked eyebrow.
"Not that kind of friend," she paused as her green eyes glinted in the light from his desk lamp. "Not anymore at least..." she smiled impishly.
"I see," he laughed. "Well, we've got something for you."
"I'm all ears."
"We've got reason to believe a Colombian cartel leader is arranging a meeting in Miami with three gang bosses from across the US. They're all in need of a new supplier since you shot their last one." A flicker of a smirk crossed Natalia's face before her demeanor turned serious once more.
"Martinez?" She asked as she took the folder Davis handed her.
"Bingo."
"Is this deal going to the highest bidder or are they all buying in?"
"Highest bidder."
"Then what's to stop them from shooting each other up along with all of South Beach?" Her brow was furrowed as she scanned the pages of text. "Eliminate competition and you've got a better chance."
"Well, you hopefully."
She glared at Davis over the top of her papers as though he had just asked her to hunt down Bigfoot, which actually, she would have preferred.
"They've formed strong alliances over the years and to our knowledge there's no bad blood between them. They fancy themselves to be sophisticated enough to carry out a business transaction without conflict." The words left his lips with an air of sarcasm.
"Well, we'll see." She raised her eyebrows in mild disbelief. "I suppose fear of retaliation is a big factor, but if someone's word serves as the only safety on the gun, then I wouldn't consider it as straight forward as it seems." She scanned the papers once again. "I'm still not clear on why exactly you want me."
"We need you to do the only thing that makes sense."
"Take out the drug lord."
"Exactly."
"Yeah, but what's stopping one gang from thinking any of the others pulled the trigger in an effort to prevent them from landing the deal? From what I've found at least, the prevailing principle is 'if I can't have it, no one can.' Half of Miami could get caught in the crossfire."
"You're going to make sure they know the government did it."
"You want me to get caught?" Her tone was one of incredulity bordering on facetiousness.
"Yes." Davis' tone was stone cold serious.
She paused for a moment, her mind flitting through all other options. "Can't just leave a calling card?" Bigfoot was looking like a better mission after all.
"Calling cards can be..."
"Faked." She knowingly finished with a sigh. "They wouldn't be convinced for longer than a few seconds."
"You've got it. We want them looking over their shoulder every time they take a piss. At this point they have no idea we're even watching. As far as the public is concerned, the government's eyes are trained elsewhere. The Middle East and the debt crisis make for more provocative newscasts. A drug deal can pass effortlessly under the radar while everyone is preoccupied with the Democrats and Republicans having it out on Capitol Hill. We don't operate on tax dollars, therefore, their arguments don't apply to us. It's how we can do what we do. And this is exactly what we do best."
"Point made," the assassin shut the file, offering an almost imperceptible nod of acceptance.
"You're the best we have, Natalia," the man's tone now was softer, his air of professionalism dissipating. "I almost wish it wasn't the case, but, we can't afford to have anyone else out there."
"I'll need more information," her tone turned hard as her brain kicked into gear. "This deal takes place in a week. I'll need that entire time to prep."
"We've already cleared your docket." Davis chose his next words cautiously. "I've discussed it with the other heads, and we really want you to have a partner on this one."
The assassin tweaked the side of her mouth in dissatisfaction. The last time they had stuck her with a partner she didn't want, she had ended up with a concussion and a dislocated shoulder among other injuries she wouldn't forget any time soon. She subconsciously rolled her shoulder at the memory.
"Alright," she conceded. She was confident in her abilities, but now wasn't the time to allow her pride to get in the way. Having a teammate could mean the difference between a few more years on the edge - and falling off of it entirely. It took her only a fraction of a second to make her decision. "I want Mulligan. He's fluent in Spanish and extraction is his specialty. As far as I know, he's the best man for the job who's currently on our payroll."
"Actually, we've chosen a partner for you already."
"Davis, you're killing me." The assassin breathed with a sign. First, she had to ignore every fiber of her being and be careless enough to get caught. Now she was about to be stuck with some second rate agent who she was beginning to despise even before she knew his name.
"You've heard of the fire at that warehouse a few days ago?" He leaned back into his chair, its hinges creaking their protest.
"At the small planes airport?" She raked her fingers through her dark hair. "The papers said faulty equipment sparked and caused the explosion."
"You of all people should know never to believe what papers say."
"I have no cause to believe otherwise. So what? Arson?" Natalia shook her head in annoyance as she spoke. "With all due respect, sir, I fail to see what possible arson that burned up a few thousand dollars worth of a CEO's jet fuel has to do with this conversation."
Davis remained unfazed by her irritation. "Forensics found close to twenty charred bodies in the wreckage."
"Yeah Davis, fires are hot. Heat kills people." She didn't appreciate her time being wasted like this, particularly after the task that had just been placed in front of her.
"They all died from gunshot wounds inflicted prior to the blaze being set. When distinguishable remains were run through the FBI's databases," he leaned in and rested his forearms on the desk, "they all came back as known associates of Damien Moreau."
Davis closely watched the progression of emotion that played across her eyes as her brain flit through her thoughts. They all manifested in a single, almost cracked, breath.
"Eliot…"
Davis saw the minute fracture of her composure as she confirmed what he had suspected.
"Is he…"
"Alive," he offered a smile.
His words did little to reassure her, but considering the alternative wasn't even an option.
"Mulligan may be the best we have now," he continued, "but Spencer's the best we've had ever. And we're not sending you in with anything less on this one. That warehouse was a piece of work. The man hasn't lost his touch. The tricky part is getting him back. But if anyone can do it, it's you."
Natalia wasn't sure what to do with the information she had just been handed. Eliot had picked up a gun for the first time in years. And what's more, he had killed. And now she was to get him back. Would he have to kill again? Could he? Questions accumulated in her mind faster than she could count, but now was not the time to process. "I'll see what I can do." She stood and grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair as Davis followed her to the door.
"Keep in touch," he slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
"I will."
"Good luck, James."
Natalia offered a smile and slipped out of the door.