The Red River Blue's
Chapter 1
Elliot crossed the small space in a few clipped strides and underhand tosses the clicker to Hardison so he can begin their briefing. He'd delayed the meeting for the last 20 minutes as they tore their office apart because he was adamant that he needed the small remote to "amazing and inspire" the group of thieves with his technological prowess. But when Elliot found it in the mini-fridge behind 3 partial bottles of orange soda he was "inspired" to break Hardison's fingers. Dammit, Hardison.
"So anyway, like I was sayin'. Uh, man, you wanna get that?" Hardison's transition from condescension went almost un-noticed by the hitter who didn't even realize that it was his phone making all the racket until Parker pulled it out of his pocket, again, and presented it to him.
"Is that…marching band music?" Nate asked from the other end of the counter, eyeing him thoughtfully. It wasn't uncommon for Hardison to mess with the ringtones on Elliot's phone just for the pleasure of irritating his friend but this seemed a little low for even him. When he stared at the phone for a beat too long trying to place the song, it ended just as he begins to mumble the rest of the line, "Rough, Tough, Real stuff, Texas A&M". Attempting to snatch the phone away from Parker as the dawn of recognition set in he fumbled the phone, sending it careening across the floor just as the song began again.
The rest of the team could do nothing more than watch the events unfold in front of them, realizing that even when he came face to face with Damien Moreau and room full of armed goons he'd never looked as rattled as he does now. Sophie's upturned brow quizzing Nate, who answers only with a shrug as he nods at Hardison, who was two steps ahead of the Mastermind and has already started tracing the new call. Parker picks up the phone and hands it to Elliot just as he reaches for it again. "Here ya go, Sparky." A grumbled word of thanks is drowned out by an even gruffer salutation as Elliot approaches the giant screen at the front of the room where Hardison is triangulating the call.
"Are you safe?" Not "Hello" or "Who is this?" but concern for someone's well-being, making it obvious Elliot knows the caller. Something that Nate Ford finds intriguing and has now joined the other men who stare up at the wall as the call pings off of 3 satellites: Denver, Phoenix, and Reno. The program eliminates Reno as a possible location several minutes later and it's a while after that before Elliot speaks again, but the voice is not his, it's a con voice: softer and with much more accent than normal. "Yes. I understand. Can I speak to her?"
Her. Everyone else in the room begins their whispered speculation as he smacks the enlarged map of Denver adamantly and signals to Hardison with a swipe of his hand in front of his neck to cut the trace. "That I do, sir. Haha. Yes, sir. I'll call you when I arrive. Thank you." When he turns towards his group there is a smirk on his face but his jaw is clenched as he is anything but jovial and the laugh they heard moments ago made Sophie's hair stand on end.
He wanted to throw the phone, smash it into a thousand little pieces until it is unrecognizable, but he can't. It is the only connection he has with Elliot Spencer, US Army Captain. The phone hadn't rang in years; after Aimee and Moreau, but he kept it just in case. He kept the phone as a painful reminder of another broken promise. The silence in the room only annoyed him further, knowing that the room is not empty but is full of his family, people who care about him, people he's made new promises. Promises he's kept, for the most part. His brow is furrowed but his eyes are wide and damp when he returns from whatever memory pulled him away and when he speaks it's nearly a whisper because he fears lashing out at one of them unnecessarily. "I'll be back as quick as I can."
When Nate calls out asking him to wait until they can all go he is already shrugging into his fleece-lined denim jacket. Flipping his hair out of his collar his answers back just as softly as before. "It's my mess, I have to clean it up." With one thoughtful glance back towards the team he pulls the door shut firmly and jogs down the stairs and out to the street to catch a cab. If he times it just right he can get a chartered jet to Colorado and just maybe sleep in his own bed tonight. Looking down at the display on his phone he laughs, knowing that nothing is ever this easy. Never.