To anyone else reading my other stories don't worry, I have not forgotten… I have just started to watch Leverage and needed to write this. I wanted to see if I could write something with live actors please let me know what you think and I will upload.

Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage or its characters just the plot line of the story.

Chapter 1:

Eliot Spencer cuddled with the cold piece of metal knowing full well that he'd receive no heat from it—more for just comfort. God I hate guns… But he needed one. He lightly tossed the assault rifle in his hands to get a better grip, but the thickness of his gloves made it difficult. Eliot made his self smaller against the solid trunk of the tree; he watched his breath come out in small clouds and then drift up to join the night sky.

He heard the crunching of snow just off in the distance and then the shouts of commands. The hitter silenced his breath and his fingers danced on the trigger of the gun. No matter how malign the object felt in his grasp the situation couldn't be dealt without it. He glanced up at the cloudless sky and prayed to whatever deity that might've been up there.

By now the snow was making his feet and lower back go numb, but what was winter without its snow. It was practically night, though it wasn't pitch black. Some may say it was still twilight and there was still that cerulean tinge to everything. He blinked his eyes and was relieved that they were finally adjusting to the darkening blue after all this time. The hitter then squirmed and peered around the side of the tree only to jolt back behind it when the sound of guns went off. Bullets kicked up snow as the line of fire ascended the snowy hill.

Eliot flinched and swatted at the icy powder that still clung to his face, numbing his skin and making it raw. His heart was now pounding with a new rush of adrenaline and his breaths were more like pants. Again, bullets pounded the ground all around his tree and he tucked in his legs and covered the back of his neck with his hands. The sound was muffled because of the soft, frothy snow the bullets were landing in, but because of the accuracy of the shots Eliot knew he had to move fast.

Judging from the sound the guns were making and the speed with which they fired he knew they weren't snipers so they must be getting close. Then there were more shouts. Okay…or right behind me; that works too… He shrugged and then sighed to himself. Carefully, the hitter stood up and made sure not to reveal any parts of his body from behind the tree. I can't back down now…not with what's at stake… He made sure he was ready with the trigger and closed his eyes and pounded the back of his head against the tree. I can't be getting nervous now—I have to do this with no mercy!

Preparing his self to attack at any moment he flexed his leg muscles to try and get some feeling into them. He had tried to dress warm enough knowing the environment could get harsh, but he couldn't give up mobility for comfort. Eliot picked one boot out of the snow and then the other. He took another quick look around at his surroundings. Everything was still that same dark blue hue; the forest here was dense with pine trees; everyone was fairly sturdy—there was at least some good protection here. From his position he needed to go due north. Behind him, about a fourth of a mile away, was the base; down the snow-covered hill just around his tree were his enemies. I can't get hung up. This is just a retrieval mission like all the others…I can't allow myself to get attached. This time I need to see red. Eliot pumped himself up with one last mental pep talk before he decided it was time.

With no warning at all the hitter leapt out from behind the tree and immediately began to spot enemies and fire at them with his rifle. They returned the fire and he could hear them fly by his ears—feel the heat through his jackets. The snow was powdery but deep; it took a lot of his energy just to lift his knees high enough to get them out for the next step. The hill was also quite steep and he had to be sure not to slip—that would mean automatic death for Spencer. Then, after about 15 feet he slid feet first into the base of another tree and planted his back to the bark and caught his breath.

Eliot recounted in his head how many mean he spotted down there. About 7… And I took out three? Four… God, I have no fucking idea. He cursed his self and checked his weapon. He didn't need to reload. Okay… Don't let down now… One, two… He came out again and this time ran sideways towards another tree about ten feet away. He fired and saw two more guys go down. What's that—two left? This time when he reached the other tree he didn't stop; that's what they would expect. Eliot kept running but he made sure to not stay in the open for too long. The profuse number of trees helped both sides concerning cover wise, but the hitter had a constant speed as he made his way down the hill—that's when he tripped on a log buried under the snow. His arms went wild as an attempt to grab something before he went down but that meant so did his gun. For the moment bullets were unbridled until he hit the snow. Everything was quiet for a few seconds. Whether it was the snow blocking it all out or maybe he actually hit both the remaining men? He log-rolled sideways, once recovered, and took safety from behind yet another tree.

Maybe I did get them all? More bullets whizzed by him in response. Damn; I knew it was too good to be true. He growled through seethed teeth. The silence that settled on the landscape was all too eerie and guns going off sounded so out of place. It all felt like a dream. Eliot twisted around the tree and fired a round then went back behind it. The enemy did the same. Then, the hitter took a wide step and feigned to his left but he really went right. The other soldier was caught off guard for just a split second but in that time Eliot managed to put a bullet right in his heart.

He jogged down the rest of the hill and once it leveled out he saw the seven bodies all sprawled out in the white snow. He held no sympathy for the men. Eliot stared down at the warm crimson soaking the edges of his boots. He was seeing red. Well, I certainly haven't lost my touch. He smirked and bent down to retrieve the fallen enemies' supplies.

He woke with a startle and his chest heaved with the action of pulling in much needed air. Eliot condensed himself and allowed the covers—which were being strangled between his fingers—to fall onto his lap. Sweat was running down the sides of his face and matted his hair to his forehead and the back of his neck. He moaned and ran both hands down his face then kneaded his eyes and temple. God… What a nightmare… He stiffly got out of bed wearing his grey sweatpants and navy blue tee. The wooden floor sent a chill up his spine once it came in contact with his bare feet. He rubbed his arms but decided it better just to get a warm cup of coffee. However, when he thought about it, it probably wasn't all that cold in the apartment; it was just the sweat still clinging to his body that made him cold.

Eliot was sure to be completely silent when he slipped out of the room; didn't want to wake any of the other team members now did he? When he arrived in the kitchen he glanced at the stove clock and saw that it was only 7:23 in the morning. Knowing the others it would still be some time before any of them arouse. Their HQ was quite dark seeing how they left the blinds closed last night and turned off all lights, however, Eliot's eyes quickly adjusted and he had no trouble navigating to the counter. That's weird… His brows furred in confusion. Coffee was already brewed in the pot. That's when the door opened and the hitter jumped and tensed in surprise.

"Nate—what are you doing up so early?" He eased noticeably when he realized it was only him. Nate seemed to calm down too—startling Eliot Spencer was never a good thing; who knows what he could do before he noticed who you were.

"Uh…there was a client. They're an early bird and this was the only time they could make so…" He walked up took a cup from the cabinets before pouring himself some coffee. Eliot was still frozen in place from the jolt; he tried to make the simple explanation click in his mind and calm down his racing heartbeat. I must still be lingering in my dream… He pondered.

"You okay," Nate asked while taking a sip of the drink. His eyes lingered on the hitter but his tone didn't suggest he was all too concerned.

"Uh, yeah…fine." He reached up and took another mug from the cabinet.

"Was it another nightmare of yours?" The leader asked composedly while he walked around to lean against the island in the center of the kitchen.

"What are you talking about I don't have nightmares." Eliot chuckled lightly, but the rushed way he said it confessed his lie. Nate looked at him with arched eyebrows and placed the cup down onto the marble counter. Eliot made sure to avoid eye contact even if that just supported the fact he was lying.

"Yeah, sure like I don't hear you at night… Listen, Eliot it's nothing to be ashamed of; maybe you could find someone to talk too—"

"No. I'm just fine." He snapped. This topic was just a little too close to home for the hitter's liking. Though, nightmares were a common thing with him; even if he normally slept only 90 minutes a day. Eliot's past gave him a lot of his things to morn and feel guilty over but none of which he wanted to discuss with Nate at 7:30 in the morning. The man had enough of his own problems to worry about.

"I'm sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were okay." He said without blinking.

"Thanks, but I'm fine." He sent him a faint smile and walked over to the couch with his coffee. "What's uh—this client what want us to do?" He asked, wanting to change the subject. Nate went and joined him. Clearing his throat he said, "How do you feel about Russian's?"

Eliot groaned. "Want me to lie?"

"Had a feeling it'd be like that… She was a sweet girl; said something about her parents—apparently they're the ones needing our help but they're also still over in Russia."

"How are we gonna help people who don't even live here?" It all sounded just a little too arduous of a con for the hitter.

"You've heard of a plane before, right?" Nate smirked.

"Seriously—what sap story did she conjure up for you to want to travel to Russia?" He leaned back and put his arms around the rear of the couch.

"Is that what you think of all the people we help; they're just 'sap stories' to you?" Nate narrowed his eyes judgingly.

"No man, it's just—"

"Oh hello you two," Sophie appeared wearing a bright smile as she walked in from the hallway. "You're up early. Do we have a case or something," Her white robe trailed behind her as she went over to the fridge.

"We do—actually." Nate said.

"More Russians," Eliot added gruffly.

"More, I would've thought we put them all out of commission by now." The grifter said, shocked.

"Don't worry there's plenty of them to go around." Eliot replied.

"When the other two get up I'll discuss it all and have Hardison begin to get information. However, we're going to be out of the country for this one." The leader explained.

"We're going to Russia?" Sophie gasped. Then when she saw Nate nod she put her hands on her hips and smirked. "What'd our client say to make you decide that?"

"That's what I said!" Eliot exclaimed.

"No, I remember you saying it was a 'sap story'." Nate corrected.

"You know what I meant." Eliot rolled his eyes and stood up. "I'm gonna go pack; get a head start yea know." He left the two alone and disappeared back into his room. Once Sophie got herself some orange juice she joined Nate in the living room.

"Did you hear him last night?" Nate asked.

"Hear who,"

"Never mind…" Nate placed his cup down on the coffee table by his knees.

"I don't like Russia." Parker pouted with puppy dog eyes. "It's impossible to blend in with all that snow." She added just to make sure they had gotten her point.

"Well, it'd be hard to pull this con all the way over here." Nate retorted. The four of them were all sitting around the table perched on stools while Hardison was preparing to start his presentation.

"Okay," He stood up, remote in hand before anyone else could protest the whereabouts of this con. "So the person who Nate visited with this morning was a 24 year old Russian named Tasha Mayer." A picture came up of the woman.

"Hoh, I like here." Eliot grinned. Hardison looked over his shoulder and returned his excitement. The girl was extremely beautiful with long brown hair that had darker highlights throughout. She had dark eyes with fine skin—

"Boys, let's focus." Sophie moaned.

"Anyway, she's a Russian actress who moved to the states when her parents raised enough money…"

"What do they do?" Sophie asked; it was easily noticeable that she was glad to help out a fellow actress.

"They're both farmers so it must've been tough to get all that money." Hardison crossed his arms and stepped to the side so everyone could see the picture that came up. It was off a younger couple, in black and white, who had their arms over the other's shoulder while they were standing in front of an old farmhouse. It was your classical farmer duo. "They've had the farm for about thirty years and they resist every government official that comes and tries to buy it off of them. Now, lately—or at least according to Tasha—her parents have been harassed by the mob over there. They're trying to do the same thing as the government—get their land—but of course they also have some different methods of doing so." The hacker scratched his nose and gave the others a moment to allow everything to soak in.

"Where'd you get all of this?" Parker asked curiously.

"Glad you asked." Hardison grinned. "I glanced at Tasha's facebook and found a whole page dedicated to her parents. It told all about her childhood and what they did to get her to the US."

"Way to think outside of the box." Sophie complimented.

"What do you got on the mob over there?" Eliot chimed in.

"Now, I knew you'd be the one to ask that." He brought up some more pictures; mostly ones from security cameras of what looked like shifty people doing shifty things. "I would have a better photo if I had found one, but these guys are pretty good at staying low. They seem to be your average kind of group… Do a lot of gun running and human trafficking…some assassination here and there—they look above the type that does drugs if yea ask me." They all grew quiet and stared at the people on the screen.

"Can you—can you zoom in on the guy in the background." Eliot said; his face twisted in thought. Hardison did his best, but it all became too distorted to even recognize that they were people when he went in on the guy in question.

"Do you know him?" Parker asked in a whispered.

"I can't be sure…"

"I wouldn't be surprised if yea did; these guys seem to be in your area of expertise…" The hacker mumbled.

"What was that?" The hitter growled.

"Nothing…nothing…"

"Listen up guys," Nate raised his voice and everyone turned to look at him. "Tasha gave us an address for her parent's house and she said she'd give us more information once we get there. Hardison I want five plan tickets for Mogot, Russia."

"Already on it"

"Okay, let's all get packed for Russia!" Nate smiled and clapped once before heading off to his own room.

"I don't like Russia." Parker reminded Sophie with a frown.

"For the greater good…" The Brit sighed and patted the blonde's shoulder.