Eliot flung open the door with a bang and marched into the room, a wild expression on his face. Nate looked up from the kitchen table and sighed.
"What are you doing here, Eliot? It's four in the morning."
"Hardison said..." Eliot surveyed the room, looking angrier by the second. "Did someone break in?"
"No."
"Was there a fight?"
"Not exactly."
Alec Hardison walked through the door tentatively and smiled when he saw the coast was clear. "Man, I was worried sick. Where's Sophie?"
"Upstairs. What are you doing here?" Nate was becoming a little irritated, all he wanted was a few hours sleep or at least some peace and quiet.
"Damnit, Hardison! What the hell? You said they were in trouble!" Eliot glowered at the tall man beside him. "There is going to be trouble if you don't tell me in three seconds why the hell you woke me up and…"
"I thought you only needed 90 minutes." Hardison grinned but made a hasty retreat as Eliot stepped towards him. "Hey, C'mon, man. I heard it! I heard Sophie yelling and Nate was…and she was…" Hardison looked at Nate for backup but Nate was looking peeved.
"What do you mean you heard it?" Nate reluctantly got up from the couch and positioned himself between the hitter and the worried looking hacker. "Are you spying on us, Hardison?"
"Oh come on!" the young man protested. "This is our office; I did what any self respecting technology master would do. I installed a system the picks up on certain audio frequencies…Sophie screaming, furniture breaking, gunshots…whatever. It sets off an alarm and I can monitor whatever the hell is going on." Hardison had forgotten about Eliot's threats and was looking a little peeved himself. "So maybe you can tell me why my laptop started sending alerts like crazy about twenty minutes ago."
Parker ran into the room, awkwardly holding a small hang gun. "Where is he?" she demanded.
"Who?" Nate asked as he held out his hand for the gun.
"The guy who attacked Sophie." She looked warily at the older man and furtively looked about the room. "Are you sure there's no one here?" she looked to Hardison for support. "You said someone was hurting Sophie."
"Parker, quit swinging the pistol around and give it to Nate before you kill someone." Eliot growled.
Hardison looked upset at the accusations. "I didn't say that—"
"Parker!" Eliot muscled the gun away from her and tucked into the back of his jeans.
"Hey!" she screeched. "I might need that."
"Ahem." Nate glared at the rest of the team and moved back towards the wooden table. "When you're interested in actually hearing the truth…" The team quieted down and sullenly approached their 'leader.'
Nate sighed deeply as he looked about the strewn papers on the table top. "These," he began slowly. "Are a part of Sophie's attempt to regain something that was stolen from her."
"What?" the three asked in unison, their complete attention now on Nate.
Nate lifted a piece of paper with seventeen names scribbled down; some he recognized as former marks, others were completely foreign to him. One laptop had a banking account from an offshore site with a pending transaction of over two million dollars. The other had a tracking program in use (something of Hardison's, Nate was sure), still alerting the absent user to the lost connection.
"She's in trouble."
"What did they steal? Anything good?" Parker's curiosity would have been amusing in any other situation.
"Something worth at least two million to her," Hardison said as he examined the computer.
"More, I'm guessing." Eliot held up a list of high-end art pieces and antiques, a price written beside each one. "She's been busy."
"Hardison," Nate's voice had an authoritative edge to it again. "Do you think you can track the last call that came in on this phone?" he slid Sophie's cell phone across the table.
"I can sure as hell try." He plopped himself in Sophie's abandoned seat and began pecking away at the keyboard.
"Parker."
"Reporting for duty."
Nate gave a terse smile. "See what you know about these pieces, " he handed her the list Sophie had made. "Find out if they've been moved recently or are up for sale. If so, tell me when she started selling them."
Nate moved to the kitchen counter and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. Did he dare fix a drink? He looked at his hands, they were trembling slightly. Was it nerves or something a little darker? He clenched both hands tightly and stared ahead into the apartment.
"Why is she upstairs?" Eliot stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest in the typical fashion. He kept his voice low, so as not to attract the attention of the other two team-members. "They might have forgotten what brought them here in the first place but I sure as hell haven't. "
Nate looked down at the counter top and tried to decide how to proceed. That drink was sounding better and better by the moment.
"Did you hurt her?" his voice was so deep and menacing that Nate was genuinely skittish for a moment.
"I'm not sure." He replied honestly after a moment or two had past.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Nate briefly recounted his meeting with Sophie less than an hour before. "I have no idea what he took from her…." He traded the glass for a ceramic mug and reached for the coffee pot—the fourth time since arriving home—and he shook his head wearily. "The thief in me knows that conversation she was having was going downhill, fast. Whoever was on the other end of the line was completely manipulating her emotions and she didn't stand a chance."
"She's in too deep." Eliot affirmed Nate's thoughts.
"That call had to be ended immediately and taken up again when she actually has a damn plan! Why couldn't she see that I was doing the right thing? That I was helping her?"
"She's a woman," Eliot spat as if that answered everything. "You did what you had to do, just forget about it."
Nate brought the coffee mug to his lips. No matter how strong he made the coffee it couldn't ease that growing tightness in his chest or the throbbing in his head. "But you didn't see the look on her face."