The Forget-Me-Not Job
Big spoilers for The San Lorenzo Job. This is set after season four (but the team still uses the premises they did in season four), so basic spoilers through the first four seasons. References and possible spoilers to The Nigerian Job, The Wedding Job, The Beantown Bailout Job, The Order 23 Job, The Fairy Godparents Job, The Three Days of the Hunter Job, The Inside Job, The Gone-Fishin' Job, The Rashomon Job, The Ho-Ho-Ho Job, The Big Bang Job, The Long Way Down Job, The Carnival Job, The Grave Danger Job, The Queen's Gambit Job, The Experimental Job, and The Office Job.
Thank you to my beta reader, ArtsyChick. Your energy and enthusiasm are inspiring!
The Forget-Me-Not Job
Chapter One
Sophie watched in horror as their timid mark, Anderson, pulled a weapon and aimed it at her heart. "He's got a gun," she hissed.
Her earbud crackled to life with Nate's panicked voice. "Eliot, get over—"
Before he could finish, before Sophie could even react, Eliot came out of nowhere and body-slammed the guy. Anderson had fired, but his aim went wide and the bullet missed Sophie. The two men almost rolled off the pier, and the gun went flying.
Sophie couldn't move. They were on the docks, which were empty at the moment except for them. The salty air assaulted her nose as she froze, not knowing what to do.
Nate's voice was in her ear again. "Sophie? Are you all right?" She couldn't answer, enthralled with the fight, hearing only the grunts and thumps between the two men. Eliot landed a blow that knocked Anderson to the ground, and he got tangled in a pile of thick ropes.
Anderson struggled before he sprang up and reached for the gun, but Eliot already had it. Eliot glanced at her, and she nodded that she was okay. Unfortunately, Anderson didn't raise his hands and come along quietly. Instead, he reached down and yanked at the ropes curled up on the docks.
Eliot lost his balance and went flying backwards into the wooden railing. It snapped in two, and Eliot fell off the pier. Through the com, she heard a sickening crack and then nothing. Anderson took off and Sophie called to Nate. "Anderson's on the run."
"Leave him," Nate said. "We know where he'll go. Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Eliot?" she asked softly, through the com. She rushed to the edge of the pier. "Eliot?" He didn't answer. She leaned over the broken railing and saw him sprawled on his back in a pile of broken wood. "Oh, God," she breathed.
"Sophie?" It was Nate's voice again.
She found a rickety ladder built into the pier and made her way down. "It's Eliot. He's hurt."
There was a pause before Nate asked in a tight voice, "How bad?"
Sophie slipped on the ladder and banged her knee. "I don't know, Nate." She heard Nate call to Eliot as she climbed over broken equipment and pieces of wood, but he didn't answer. They were in an abandoned construction site, set up under the pier. "Eliot," she said softly and knelt down next to him. She touched his jeans-clad legs. "Can you hear me?" She ran her hands over his shirt. There were no wooden shards or bones sticking out or blood soaking through, and still no response from Eliot. "Come on, say something. You can even growl at me, just…do something. Eliot? Please." She placed the back of her hand on his cheeks and forehead, knowing enough not to move him, but hoping the sensation would bring him round.
He didn't even stir.
"Nate, he's hurt bad. We're trapped down here. We shouldn't move him until we know he hasn't cracked his spine but…" She looked around desperately. There was only the rickety ladder. "I don't see how we're going to get him out of here."
Nate's voice took on the air of someone forcing calm. "Is he conscious?"
"No. No obvious injuries."
"Have you tried—"
"Yes. He's not responding to any stimulus. He's lying on a broken board. I heard him fall, Nate. I think he slammed his head into it."
"Yeah, Sophie. I heard it, too." Nate blew out a breath.
Parker's voice came through the com. "We all heard it. It sounded like a bull in a china shop."
Hardison's voice rang out, "Have you ever heard a bull in a china shop, Parker?"
"I have now."
"Guys!" Sophie knew they felt helpless and worried, but she was the one staring at Eliot, his body at an odd angle on top of the broken boards, his hair tangled over his face, his utter lack of life except for the slow rise and fall of his chest.
"I can get him out," Parker said.
"How far away are you?"
"About fifteen minutes," Nate said. "Can you take care of him until then?"
"I don't have much choice."
"That's the spirit."
"I mean hurry up." It was supposed to have been a quick and easy job. Get the mark to hand over the computer chip so they could go after the bad guy. Eliot wasn't even supposed to come. He was to distract the guards at the office building while Nate and Parker held the meeting. Hardison was breaking into the security system. Eliot insisted on protecting Sophie. When she found out Anderson wanted to meet at the pier, she was grateful for Eliot's company but still figured he wouldn't be needed. And now this. This was her fault. She must have tipped the guy off. She screwed up somewhere along the way and now Eliot paid for her mistake. One of the good things about working alone was that no matter how many times you failed, you haven't failed an ally. It wasn't even a possibility.
For lack of anything better to do, she reached over and brushed the hair from his face. He twitched. "Eliot! Eliot?"
He groaned.
"Come on. That's it. Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"
Eliot blinked and groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.
"It's okay, take it easy. There's no rush." She heard the excitement in her own voice and felt her heart thud in her chest.
"Is he awake?" There was no mistaking the hope in Nate's voice.
"He's waking up. Come on, Eliot. It's okay."
He shifted his leg, his eyes still shut tight.
"No, don't move. Don't move around. Just lie still, all right? Do you understand me?"
His eyelids fluttered open and he squinted up at her. She wished she had sunglasses to give him, but it was an overcast day and she hadn't brought any. Sophie watched as his blue eyes disappeared under heavy lids. "Eliot? Are you there?" His eyes cracked open and she smiled at him.
"Where am I?" he croaked out. His body tensed as if he was bracing himself from pain.
"You've been in an accident. You fell but I've got you now. Okay? The others are on their way."
His eyes widened; they were unfocused and confused. "Others?"
"Yeah. They'll be here any minute. You just lie still."
His eyes darted around the pier, creases appeared in his forehead as if he was concentrating hard.
"Eliot? You okay?" A stupid question under the circumstances, but what else could she say? As long as she spoke soothingly, he should be all right until Nate arrived.
"What happened?"
"You saved my life. You fell. Backwards. I don't mind telling you, you scared the life out of me." She smiled brightly at him. "As you say," she mimicked the southern accent of the tough guy, "It's what I do, darlin'."
He stared up at her as though she'd sprouted a third arm. He blinked in long, slow movements. She hoped he wasn't about to pass out again. He turned his head to his side and raised his left arm, examining his wrist. He did the same with his right before staring at her again.
"What is it?"
"No handcuffs."
Sophie looked at him. "No, Eliot. Lie still."
"You can't make me. No handcuffs."
"I don't understand."
He pulled his elbows back and struggled to lift himself up.
Sophie adjusted her kneeling position but was afraid to touch him. "Eliot, stay down. We don't know how badly you're hurt."
He looked at his boots, a small smile spread across his hardened face. For a second, he didn't look like Eliot.
"How do you feel?"
"No leg irons."
"Eliot, you fell backwards off a pier."
"Did I." It wasn't a question.
Sophie suddenly felt uncomfortable. "You just saved my life. Lie back." She put her hand on his chest and tried to push him down.
Eliot grabbed her and wrenched her arm behind her back. Sophie cried out in surprise.
"Who are you?" he breathed in her ear.
Nate's voice rang through the com. "Sophie? Are you all right? What's happening?"
Eliot let her go and scrambled up. "Who's that?" He spun around and his boot caught in the splintered wood. He collapsed to all fours.
"Eliot, are you okay? What was that cry?"
"Who are you?" he called out desperately. He glanced up, scanning the pier and then the water and sky. He got to his feet again, his arms in front of him. He almost looked like he was ready to fight, but Sophie could tell the difference between Eliot's stances. This was a new one. He was balancing himself, unsteady. He was injured and on the defensive. He was…he was scared.
"Nate, something's wrong," Sophie whispered.
Eliot turned to her and grabbed his ears. "Get out of my head! Who are you people?" He wavered in place as he tugged at his ear and pulled out his com. He stared at Sophie as though she'd attacked him. He squinted at her again, and this time it wasn't sensitivity to light. He was sizing her up. He flung the ear bud down and backed away.
"Nate, he threw the com away. He's on autopilot or something. He's acting like we're the enemy, like we've captured him."
"Don't go anywhere near him!" Nate shouted.
"Nate, I have to try to calm him—"
"Sophie! Stay put! Don't go near him, don't talk to him, don't even look at him."
Eliot found the rickety ladder and started climbing, cradling his left arm and wincing.
"He's hurt, he's scared—"
Now Hardison's voice came through. "Which means he is the most dangerous man on the planet right now. Leave him alone."
"He's running away. There's no telling what'll happen to him."
"We'll find him. Just stay there. Don't follow him."
Sophie stood up the moment Eliot climbed onto the pier and vanished. "I'm following him." She grabbed Eliot's com and stalked toward the ladder.
"No!"
"I'll keep my distance," she lied.
"Sophie, please…" Nate sounded desperate.
She climbed the ladder and peeked over the last slat. Eliot was a few feet away, hunched over, taking stock of his surroundings. He turned around and saw her. She climbed onto level ground and held her hands up.
Eliot faced her, dropping his left arm, not willing to show a weakness. He forced himself to stand straight, and pain shone in his eyes for the briefest of seconds.
"Eliot…do you know who I am?"
"I've never seen you before, darlin'."
"You have." He'd been responding to his name so he knew who he was. That was good. "Eliot." She took a step toward him. "Tell me the date."
"No."
"Who is the…do you know who Barrack Obama is?"
He glared at her. "Is he the one coming for me?"
"Eliot, who is the President of the United States?"
He just stood there, refusing to answer.
"Bush? Clinton?"
There was the slightest crinkle around his eye. He knew those names at least, but it didn't help her place anything. She tried another tactic. "Do you remember the Dagger of Aqu'abi?"
He continued to glare at her until his face softened and he tilted his head to the side. "No, but if you hum a few bars I can fake it."
Hardison's voice came through. "D-did he just make a joke? That is not Eliot."
Sophie ignored them both. So he didn't even remember 2005. This was bad. "Does September 11 mean anything to you?" Parker once asked him where he was on September 11, and his face contorted into an expression of horror and sadness and he refused to speak of it. Anytime mention of it occurred—in the news, on the radio, snippets of overheard conversation—he had the same reaction. Eliot was a private man, but even he couldn't help but show certain emotions about specific events.
There was no crinkling around the eyes. He showed no recognition, no sign of emotion, his face void of any passion. She hated seeing him like this, and him looking at her like she was a stranger.
"Sophie?" Nate's soft voice sounded in her ear. "Please be careful."
She knew what she had to do. Eliot had no idea who he was—not now. He didn't know them. He would go to ground and they knew nothing about his past that would help them track him down. If he disappeared from this dock, they might never find him again. She took another step forward. "I cannot believe you don't remember me. You just risked your life to save mine."
He held his right arm out. "Stop."
Sophie froze. There was a pleading in his voice. He may not know her anymore, but he didn't want to hurt her.
"I'm no threat. I want to check your injuries."
"Not gonna happen. Keep your distance."
"Sophie…"
"I can't do that, Eliot. I'm a doctor."
Nate's voice was tight. "Sophie, what are you doing?"
Eliot's arm dropped. "That's convenient."
"You'll let me examine you?"
"Not on your life."
"You understand. I have to. I am duty-bound by my oath as a doctor to help. I saw you fall off the pier. I know you're injured. You know I can't let you go pass out somewhere and die of internal bleeding."
Eliot's face paled. "You're going to force me to do something I don't want to do."
"Sophie, stop. We're almost there. Stop now."
"You wouldn't hurt a doctor."
"I took out a vet once, with nothing but a water dish and some Kibble."
Sophie swallowed hard. She knew Eliot had a violent past—he had a violent present—but he had his own moral compass. He wouldn't hurt her so long as he believed she meant him no harm.
"Sophie, so help me God—"
"Nate," Parker's voice cut him off. "She might be able to get through to him."
Hardison spoke next. "He won't hurt her, but if he runs, we might never be able to find him. We don't know anything about his past, and he doesn't know anything about himself now. So many people are after him. I don't care how tough he is—and that man freaks me out every day—but even he won't be able to protect himself."
Parker again. "If we don't get to him right now, either his injuries will kill him or one of his—or our—enemies will."
Sophie smiled at Eliot again and stepped up to him.
He made no move.
She stopped just short of reaching distance. If she could keep him talking…. "Will you lift your shirt for me?"
He shook his head.
She hadn't thought so. And then she realized why he hadn't moved. She could see the pain he was in; it was in his eyes, in his face, in the way he stood off balance. He'd been gathering his strength. He took a deep breath. It would have been imperceptible if she hadn't been so in tuned to him by their friendship and her concern for his injuries. He was ready to bolt. He looked at her shoes and she saw the wheels turn. She couldn't run after him in her heels. He must be hurt badly to let her get this close. He started to lean right, ready to run.
"I'll take your pulse." She reached to his right and blocked him.
He grabbed her wrist, whirled her around, kicked the back of her knees and she went down. She'd been expecting something so she didn't cry out this time. She reached around and grabbed at his middle, to catch her balance. He pushed her down and leaned on her back. His elbows dug into her spine, and she guessed he didn't mean to lean so hard. He was having trouble keeping his balance. Even this one-sided "fight" with her was taking its toll. If he was anyone but Eliot Spencer, he'd be out cold right now. He drew a knife from his boot and Sophie flinched.
"Don't worry darlin', but I did warn you."
"Sophie, what's going on?"
He reached over her head and pulled a length of rope and cut it. It was slow work for him, that shouldn't have taken but a few seconds.
"I told you, I'm a doctor." She couldn't talk to Nate or the others directly but she could let them know she was still okay.
"Why is your voice strained? What is he doing?"
Standing on her back, it felt like.
Eliot put his knife back in his boot. "I don't know if I believe you, but it doesn't matter now."
"Why doesn't it matter now, Sophie? What is he doing?"
Eliot wrapped her hands behind her back and stretched the rope across the length of her body and tied her feet together. He was hogtieing her!
"Ever the southern gentleman," she said.
"I warned you."
"Yes, you did."
Now Hardison spoke through the com. "Sophie, we're here. Keep him talking."
"At least tell me you'll get medical help from someone you trust."
"There isn't any—" Eliot cut himself off. "I'll be fine. What's the tibia?"
"The what?"
"Are they almost here?"
"Yes." Sophie gasped. Why did she say that? Because it was Eliot. Eliot her friend. Eliot her teammate. He was not Eliot the enemy. Eliot the mark. She failed him again.
He struggled to stand and patted her back a couple times. "Nice try, doctor."
"Eliot, wait!"
But he was gone.
A minute later, Nate, Hardison and Parker came running up to her. Nate crouched down and started pulling at the ropes.
"Never mind about me—get him!"
Nate motioned to Hardison and Parker. "Find him."
"And then what?" Hardison demanded, his voice a pitch higher than normal.
"I can taser him," Parker said.
"I didn't see which way he went, he was somewhere behind me. Go. Now! Please get him." She heard them run and prayed that Eliot had passed out somewhere safe but obvious. Then they would have to handcuff both of his wrists and put him in leg irons for good measure, and it would be his own fault.