The first thing Nate knew was a pounding in his head. The second was that he couldn't move. Without opening his eyes, he did his best to assess the situation.

The worst of the pain was in his head. The crusty feeling on his ear, cheek, and neck probably meant he had been bleeding, but it had dried. There were a few more scattered bruises, but nothing significant. His hands were zip tied to a metal chair, and his feet were similarly restrained. That would have been fine, since Parker had persuaded him to carry a tiny knife in his sleeve for just such an occasion, but both his jacket and shirt were gone.

Satisfied that there was nothing else he could figure out while blind, Nate opened his eyes. Much to his surprise, he was in a clean, well-kept, if empty room that looked like it belonged in a classic country farmhouse. There weren't any windows, but it was well lit. The floor was real hardwood, as was the door, and the walls were covered in a light, unobtrusive wallpaper.

Just over the door, Nate spotted a camera focused right on where he sat. That would hamper his ability to do… well, anything, but the camera might be automated, or whoever was supposed to be watching it might be otherwise occupied. Either way, his interest returned to his chair.

He had hoped to find it loose to move, but unfortunately whoever had taken him had thought that far ahead. All four legs were bolted to the floor. There was no way Nate was moving it.

Just as he was starting to contemplate getting out of the restraints, the door opened. Nate would have sworn he was in another vision, except this time, the face on the long-haired man he had seen so many times was crystal clear. There was no mistaking his identity now.

What he was dying to know now was why this man had been on his mind for weeks. Sure, they had met, worked together even. It had been mutually beneficial but not an experience Nate wanted to repeat. And besides, how would Nate's subconscious know Spencer had grown his hair out since then? Most importantly, why did he feel like he knew Spencer much better than he should have, given the short time they had spent together?

Unfortunately, now was not the time to ponder such mysteries. He had to focus on the problem right in front of him.

"Spencer."

Spencer, now dressed in a flannel shirt and faded jeans instead of the suit, smirked a little as he closed the door behind him and leaned on it. "Told you to stay out of my way, Ford."

Nate cocked his head to the side and nodded. "I didn't know you were in town or I would have. Hard to recognize you with the hair."

The smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "That's the point." Then the smile dropped, and Spencer was all business. "I know what you've been doing, and it's gonna stop."

Nate smiled innocently. "What do you mean?"

Spencer's face darkened. "Don't try to lie to me, Ford. You're no good at it."

"No, no, I just… uh, I think you owe me an explanation. I mean, after what I did for you last time we met, this kind of harsh treatment hardly seems fair. You didn't even try just talking to me, did you? Who says I wouldn't listen?"

"You never listen," he sneered. "And did you forget we agreed we were even after the last job? I owe you nothing. Besides, I didn't start this - you did, when you picked a fight with Moreau. Now it's my job to end it."

That was exactly what Nate had been afraid of. He hated to admit it, but he was well aware of Spencer's methods, and knew the hitter wouldn't hesitate to simply execute whoever posed a threat. So the real question was why Spencer was standing in front of him talking instead of ending him right now.

Straightening a little in his seat, Nate stared straight at Spencer and asked in his most authoritative voice, "What do you want from me? You don't keep people like me alive for no good reason."

Spencer pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "If it were just you, Ford, my problem would have been fixed long ago. But you're the least dangerous of my targets, which makes you the easiest capture." Casually, he approached, and Nate felt himself involuntarily stiffen. "You're going to give me Alec Hardison and Parker."

Nate felt the blood drain from his face. So he knew about Leverage, apparently. But… someone was conspicuously missing. Spencer hadn't mentioned Sophie, so that meant either he had her, or didn't know about her. Nate desperately wanted to know which was the case, but he would never forgive himself if he put her in Spencer's crosshairs because of his own curiosity. "You know I would rather die than give up my people. You're wasting your time."

Spencer nodded slowly, seeming to ponder Nate's words. Finally, he licked his lips and leaned in closer. "How much does Sophie Devereaux mean to you?" Nate closed his eyes and sighed. That was the worst case scenario. Not only did Spencer know about Sophie, but he had her, and he knew Nate had feelings for her. "Two hostages means I can kill one to make a point."

Suddenly, Nate saw a dark room in a faraway place. Parker and Hardison were there, along with Tara and… was that Sterling? As usual, the vision obscured Eliot's identity, but Nate recognized him now. The irony of the situation was not lost on him - in the vision, Eliot was in the position of rescuing the hostages. 'That's my job,' he had said.

Nate opened his eyes to clear the vision, and found himself staring into the coldest glare he had ever seen. He didn't flinch, but didn't say anything either.

Spencer shrugged and backed away. "We both know there are many things worse than death, though."

Before Nate brought himself to say anything, there was a knock on the door. Spencer's nostrils flared as he whirled around to throw the door open. "This better be important." Somehow, that growl felt almost… familiar. Friendly, even. Certainly not menacing like it should have been.

The twenty-something kid who opened the door nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir. The camera at the front door broke."

Spencer's jaw worked, but he nodded. "Let Jameson know."

"Yes sir." The kid disappeared, but Nate stared after him long after the door had shut. A camera disabled? That was a very good sign. If Parker and Hardison hadn't found him already, they would soon, and dysfunctional equipment meant guards would have to shift and everything would be just a little off. Even the slightest advantages would be critical at this point.

"Ford." Nate jerked his attention back to the threat in front of him. "I have some issues to deal with right now, so I'll leave you to think. When I get back, I expect you to be quite a bit more cooperative, because I will not be as tolerant."

Nate nodded his head solemnly. He would have some time to think, but after that, he would have to make a very unpleasant decision.

"I got them!" Hardison didn't need to shout, he knew Parker was right behind him, but he did anyway because his nerves were wearing thin. Their teammates could be dead or dying any minute and he was stuck playing 'Where's Waldo' with traffic cameras. "I mean, it's the last place I would have expected, but there's no denying it."

Hardison pulled up the view on Lucille's big screen so Parker could see it. It had been a pain to try to track the kidnappers' van through the country backroads - in fact, it had been impossible due to the lack of traffic cameras - but it hadn't been too hard for Hardison to find the few scattered buildings along the road. Google maps had helped him locate the building he was looking at now. Once he could see it, it was easy enough to find their wifi network, which was conveniently linked to several surveillance cameras. The black van parked out front was just the icing on the cake. There was no question about it - this was the place.

Parker was just as confused as he was. "It's just a farmhouse."

"No kidding." Why on earth one of the most notorious enforcers in the world pick a - a farmhouse as his base of operations? Hardison would have expected a bunker or something, or maybe a spooky old abandoned warehouse… Though, perhaps that was the point. He would have glossed right over it if he didn't have undeniable proof sitting right in front of him.

"So… Easy peasy?"

Hardison snorted. "I think not. Eliot Spencer, remember? Dude is like the security expert. Or do you think Damien Moreau, bank of evil, is just gonna hire any ol' guy who knocks on his door?"

Parker shrugged. "So what's his weakness?"

Hardison eyed her for a moment, amazed at her blasé attitude, but quickly returned to the task at hand. "Let me see what I can find…" His voice trailed off as he tapped at the keys. A few minutes later, he pulled up the camera feeds on the main monitors.

"Oh man…"

Nate didn't put up a fight as Spencer hauled him out of the metal chair and practically dragged him out of the room. So far, Spencer hadn't said a word. The stone cold expression on his face warned Nate against pushing him.

Nate barely had time to glance down the hallway before he was pulled into another room. This one, like the last one, was the perfect image of a cute country farmhouse, complete with a lit fireplace in one corner. Nate barely noticed it. Over near the other corner, sitting on her knees with her hands behind her back, was Sophie. She was gagged and unable to speak, but as far as Nate could tell, she hadn't been harmed. He breathed a deep sigh of relief and felt himself relax, despite the iron grip on his arm and the plastic binding his own hands.

Spencer shoved Nate to the floor and stalked toward the back of the room. At that moment, Nate noticed there was another man standing about five feet behind Sophie, one hand on his gun. He leaned against the wall and watched lazily, as if nothing of any note were going on. Sophie, on the other hand, seemed well aware of her danger, if the terror in her eyes was any indication.

The sound of metal scraping against stone seized Nate's attention. Spencer lifted a red hot fire poker out of the coals gathered under the fire and turned to give Nate a look that sent Nate's heart into his stomach. Before Nate could even react, Spencer strode over to Sophie and laid that burning poker across her thighs, right under the hem of her very short minidress.

Nate could tell she did her best not to react to the searing pain she must be experiencing, but her lovely face contorted into a mask of agony and it was only a few seconds before Nate could hear her whimpering.

Fury replaced fear and Nate found himself shouting. "Let her go, you—"

"You know…" Spencer lifted the poker slowly and stared at it, as if he were contemplating the weather. "The ancient Romans favored this technique as well." He meandered over behind Sophie, taking his time.

Nate felt his insides flip as he finally got a good look at the seared, angry red skin at the hem of Sophie's dress. She was breathing heavily, eyes closed, probably trying to control the pain as much as possible. But she was a grifter, and had likely never faced torture before. Nate had the sinking feeling she had absolutely no idea how to manage herself to get through this.

Spencer's soft, nonchalant voice made the hairs stand up on the back of Nate's neck. "They would lay hot pokers across the feet of their victims to get them to spill whatever information the Romans were after." And suddenly, Sophie's barely restrained squeal sliced through Nate's heart. He couldn't see what was happening, but figured Spencer had done exactly what he had said. "The soles of your feet are usually very tender, especially for someone as delicate as Ms. Devereaux, so the heat is especially potent."

"Please, please just - just stop." Nate pulled helplessly against his restraints, but there was nothing he could do. "Don't hurt her."

Spencer eyed him for a minute, but Nate's eyes were on Sophie. Tears streamed down her face from tightly clenched eyes, and her chest heaved with sobs. Nate couldn't stand it. "Stop." His voice broke, and it came out just a whisper.

A tiny smirk cracked Spencer's face, and he lifted the poker so it was in Nate's sight again. Nate sighed slightly, even though Sophie didn't react to the cessation of pain. Though, there had probably been enough damage that she was still feeling the heat, even though the source was gone.

Spencer walked back over to the fire, stabbed the now fading poker back under the coals, and pulled out a new one. Making his way back over to Sophie, he stared Nate down, but didn't say anything.

Nate's hands clenched into fists and he jerked against his restraints again, overcome with the fierce desire to throw the jerk into his own fire. Spencer had hurt Sophie just to break him down. Hadn't even given Nate a chance to give in before all this started, didn't even try to talk to him. Just jumped right to burning Sophie, because he knew that was what would get an emotional reaction out of Nate. And what made Nate even more furious was that it had worked. No amount of talking, reasoning, or bargaining would get him to give up Hardison and Parker. He knew very well that Sophie would also gladly continue to put up with this if it meant the younger team members were safe. But when Nate was actually faced with the reality of what Spencer would do to Sophie, his emotions were just too strong for him to talk down.

Spencer knew that. Of course he knew that. And just like Nate would have done in the same situation, he had skipped all of the pointless verbal dancing and gone straight to the tactic he knew would work.

Spencer stopped just behind Sophie's shoulder, one hand gripping the poker, the other hand sprawled across her ear, jaw, and neck to hold her head steady. He brought the end of the poker to rest just above Sophie's cheek, and she flinched violently. His hand held her still until she regained control, and then she froze. Nate could see the orange light dancing on her cheek, but thank goodness there was at least a tiny bit of air there.

"'Course, the real pain for a grifter like Devereaux ain't actual pain, is it? Large burn scar on her face would attract all the wrong kinds of attention. Keep her from going undetected when she wants to hide, cause revulsion or pity in potential marks, and most dangerously, give her an identifying mark for the authorities to track." He chuckled softly. "It would cripple her ability to grift." His deadly calm eyes twinkled menacingly. "It's about the worst possible outcome for someone as restless as she is."

Nate felt the blood drain from his face. "You… you…" He wanted to curse Spencer out, but could barely form a coherent thought with the poker hovering over Sophie's face. "You monster."

He chuckled softly. "Never heard that before."

Nate just glared harder, despite the almost palpable release in tension thanks to Spencer's sarcastic humor. Spencer may think it was funny to joke about horrifically scarring people for his own benefit, but Nate was certainly not amused, and Sophie looked downright terrified. Her face was so pale that Nate wouldn't have been surprised if she passed out.

In response to Nate's silence, Spencer's demeanor sobered again. "You know what I want."

Five words that forced Nate to decide which team members he would put at the mercy of this man. While he desperately wanted to do the pragmatic thing and sacrifice Sophie so that Hardison and Parker could escape, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He could only hope Hardison managed to tap into the cameras mounted in every room and realize what was going on before Spencer managed to track down Hardison and Parker.

"We were staying at the Golden Sunset hotel downtown, room #317. Lots of people at the front entrance, though, so you'd have to go in through the side door."

Spencer regarded him quietly for a moment, before nodding slightly and allowing the burning poker to fall away from Sophie's face. "Good." With a nod to the man in the corner behind him, who hadn't moved the entire time, Spencer tossed the poker back toward the fire and strode out of the room. Nate could hear him calling down the hall, "Jameson! I want two thirds of the men surrounding that hotel. Parker especially knows how to slip away, I don't want this messed up…"

As soon as his voice faded down the hall, Nate stumbled to his feet and practically threw himself at Sophie. "How are you doing?" He murmured, taking in the fiery marks on her thighs and feet.

The guard grabbed his shoulder and shoved him away. "Don't touch her."

Sophie glanced up at him and he suddenly remembered she couldn't answer him. The pain and determination in her eyes, though, told him everything he needed to know. Nate could tell she was hurting more than she let on, but he certainly admired her for being so brave in the face of their worst nightmare.

Nate scooted as close as he dared, hoping to offer whatever comfort he could. Eyeing the camera above, he whispered, "I just hope Hardison and Parker make it out okay."

TBC

A/N: Nate's vision comes from #212, "The Zanzibar Marketplace Job," when Nate and Maggie have been kidnapped and Eliot is in charge of getting them back.