Title: Code Blue
Author: Robinyj
Beta: sgs09
Characters/Pairings: Teamfic centered mostly around Eliot
Rating: PG-13, violence and a little swearing
Genre: canon/action/adventure/h/c
Warnings/spoilers: None really. Mild violence.
Summary: Nate felt sick as he was taunted by the man on the other end of the phone, "I will give you the deal of the century Mr. Ford, three thieves in exchange for one. You give me Eliot Spencer and the three I already have are free to go."
Author's Notes: Thanks so much for the amazing responses guys. So glad you're all enjoying. – I apologize if anyone got alerted twice about this chapter. I've been having log in and upload problems with the site. Hopefully it's all fixed up now.


Nate wasn't sure how long he sat in the driver's seat of his car, staring off into space waiting to hear anything over the unnaturally quiet com line. Just a few minutes ago he had been talking to the team; he had known they were safe and on the move. Now though, he couldn't be sure where they were or what was happening to any of them. He gulped loudly. This wasn't like when Sterling caught Parker and Hardison to use as bargaining chips for the Second David, this was much worse. This time they were dealing with men who were little more than mercenaries willing to sell a person to the highest bidder, no questions asked, and they had his team.

Eliot coughing weakly in the backseat broke him out of his reverie and made him change that last thought - they had most of his team.

"Okay Eliot," he said aloud, shaking himself into action and starting the car. "We're getting out of here."

The hitter was completely unconscious by now, blood loss, cold and exhaustion having taken their toll, and he was still shivering violently. Nate calculated the distance to their nearest safehouse, then remembered that hideout was little more than a damp basement which would be very bad for Eliot at the moment so decided to head for the second closest which was drier and easier to heat.

His focus was so divided as he drove that it was a miracle he managed to stay on the road at all. He was desperately checking his mirrors and the roads ahead of him for any sign of a black van while at the same time he kept a close ear on Eliot's breathing, hating how laboured it sounded. Finally he had to keep his mind from straying too far into the future as he started to sort through all the cons in his arsenal and every trick he had ever learned over the years that could possibly help him get his team back. Everything that he came up with though involved more than a mastermind and a hitter, which caused Nate's frustration levels to increase dramatically as he drove. By the time he reached the safehouse he felt completely exhausted.

Pulling into the driveway slowly Nate looked over the area to try to spot any signs of recent activity. The gravel on the driveway was undisturbed and the house itself seemed as he remembered it. The safehouse was an old Victorian home that had once been a family doctor's office with an apartment on the upper floor. The team had placed plastic on the downstairs windows to make it look like the place was under renovations but left the upstairs apartment furnished and stocked in case of emergencies. Stepping out of the car Nate pulled open the garage door, drove inside and then shut it again. Eliot was still unconscious but Nate talked to him anyway.

"Eliot, I'll be right back okay. Just sit tight," he instructed, grabbing his emergency bag of clothes, food and money and heading into the house first. The back steps looked undisturbed as well and Nate started to relax marginally when he opened the door and found the alarm active and untampered with. No one had been here. He took a moment to deactivate the alarm and wedge a few doors open then went back for Eliot. Climbing into the back of the car he tapped the hitter's cheek lightly.

"Eliot, wake up. Come on. We're at the safe house but I don't think I can carry you. You're gonna have to help me. Eliot?"

Nate's stomach clenched with concern when Eliot remained unresponsive for a long time. It was only after a good deal of shaking and yelling that the hitter's eyes finally started to crack open.

"Hey, there we go, Eliot! Eliot! You hear me? Stay awake, okay? We gotta get inside," Nate said, quickly grabbing Eliot's good arm now that he was conscious and hoping the hitter would help him whether he understood or not.

"Where…?" Eliot asked in confusion, squinting to figure out where he was.

"The safehouse down on Agricola. Come on, keep moving," Nate instructed, focussed solely on holding Eliot up and keeping the hitter moving forward.

They were both panting by the time they reached the top of the stairs but Nate wouldn't let them slow down until they were inside. Steering Eliot towards the nearest bedroom where Nate had had the foresight to turn down the sheets, Nate dropped Eliot onto the bed. The hitter's eyes closed again almost immediately and Nate set to work, cranking up the heat in the room as high as it would go and then removing the rest of the hitter's soaked clothing. He also wrapped a towel around Eliot's head to dry his hair. When Eliot was as warm as Nate could make him, covered with practically every blanket in the house, Nate collapsed into a nearby chair, sweating from the exertion and the increased temperature in the room. His rest was short lived though; he hadn't forgotten about the bullet wound in Eliot's arm. With great effort he pushed himself out of the chair and retrieved a first aid kit from the bathroom and then settled in next to Eliot on the bed.

Unwrapping the makeshift bandage he had placed on the arm back at his apartment Nate saw that the wound was a through and through – it had taken a good chunk out of Eliot's upper arm but there was no bullet to remove and it hadn't hit the bone, which were both good things. It really just had to be cleaned and stitched. Nate wiped away the blood so he could see the wound more clearly then picked up the bottle of disinfectant. He was just about to pour the alcohol onto Eliot's arm when he paused and then stood up to apply the disinfectant from out of arm's reach.

It was the smart move on his part as the pain of the wound being treated jerked Eliot into consciousness and his first instinct was to swing wildly in the direction the pain had come from. Nate was out of harm's way but quickly moved into Eliot's line of sight.

"Eliot, easy, it's me, it's Nate. You've been shot, I'm trying to help," Nate explained loudly. "It's just me."

Eliot was huffing in breaths and still shaking violently, but nodded in exhaustion, "'kay."

Nate took that as the permission it was and sat back down to continue sterilizing the wound. Eliot grunted and jerked with pain which made Nate cringe but he had to be unusually thorough – if Eliot had jumped into the Boston Harbour after all then there was no telling what kind of bacteria had gotten into the wound.

"You remember getting this?" Nate asked, futilely trying to distract Eliot from the pain.

"Yeah," Eliot hissed back. "Ackers."

There was a moment of silence while Nate wiped the wound clean before Eliot asked tightly, "The team?"

Nate continued to focus on his task, "He got them. All of them. Destroyed their coms."

Eliot's head dropped back heavily as he sighed, eyes clenching tightly shut, no longer from the pain.

"Dammit," he whispered, voice laced with self loathing.

"It wasn't your fault Eliot, you did everything you could," Nate assured him instantly but Eliot shook his head, not listening.

"Shoulda got to a phone … sooner. Wasn't thinking," Eliot slurred, clearly too exhausted to be having this conversation.

"Either way, it's done," he told him as he picked up the needle to sew the wound closed. "You want to help the team, get some rest, get better. I'm gonna need you healthy to get them back."

Eliot nodded and it didn't take much convincing to get him to shut his eyes and slip back into unconsciousness. Nate was grateful, not sure he would have been able to keep up the optimistic façade for long. The truth was he was damn worried about the others, and he hated that he was twitching for a drink the more the situation spiralled out of his control. Twenty minutes later Eliot's arm was stitched, bandaged and then tucked back under the covers. It was subtle but the shivering was less dramatic now which was at least some comfort.

Knowing Eliot would be unconscious for some time Nate collapsed into an arm chair in the next room and sat staring into space for a long time. His mind was flooded with scenarios and cons to get the others back safely and he sank back deep with despair as he had to discard each idea for being too dangerous or utterly impossible without the rest of the team. It was a vicious cycle – he needed the team to save the team. After an hour of running through every angle and every piece of information he had he came to a decision and pulled out his cell phone. It would take a few calls to get the information he needed, but as a general rule he knew that bounty-hunters weren't too difficult to get into contact with.


Sophie squinted as she emerged from the back of the black van with Ackers, the light seeming harsh after forty-five minutes in the windowless vehicle. She took a quick sweep of the area and saw no one else except for the three bounty-hunters that had brought her here. They were somewhere along the water surrounded by empty buildings and lonely docks. Ackers smugly tried to be a gentleman by letting her lead the way.

"After you," he said with a grin.

She glared at him and walked towards the indicated building, noting that it appeared to be an old warehouse that looked like it had been closed for at least a decade and unfortunately stunk of fish.

"An abandoned warehouse. Well, it's good you're not cliché," she commented sarcastically as she walked inside. There was no point in fighting or running at the moment, they would catch her without difficulty so she decided to save her energy for whatever Nate and Eliot came up with to get them home safely. Once inside she found the building to be rather sparse. There were a few boxes, some simple machinery along one wall and a loading door at the other end. The most interesting thing was easily the square table near the center of the room where Hardison and Parker were sitting, handcuffed to the tabletop and surrounded by four armed men.

"Hey, Sophie. They sent three guys after you, huh? They must think you're really dangerous," Parker commented as she sat slumped unhappily in her chair.

Sophie approached them quickly to check them over; Parker looked restless and Hardison was rotating his shoulder like it might have been sore but they seemed mostly unhurt.

"Are you both all right?" she asked quietly.

Parker just nodded, tugging at her cuffs seemingly out of habit, while Hardison rolled his eyes, "I'm great other than the part where I got zapped like a fried chicken."

"The boys get a little overzealous on the hunt sometimes," Ackers announced by way of an explanation. "Please don't take that as an apology. Now, Ms. Devereaux, if you'd take your seat."

Sophie glared as she sat in the chair indicated and held her wrists out to be cuffed to the table like Hardison and Parker. Once the metal was snapped on she tugged them just once – as expected they were worked firmly into the wood; she doubted even Eliot could break them. Speaking of which, her eyes shifted to the final empty seat at the table which, unlike the rest, had leg manacles built into it as well as handcuffs. It wasn't hard to figure out who that seat had been meant for.

When they were all sitting Ackers started to circle them predatorily.

"Now isn't this something. Parker, Hardison and Devereaux, three of the greatest thieves on the planet, the most feared team of criminals in the country, all mine," Ackers commented, clearly pleased with himself.

"You might want to look up the meaning of the word 'all' because I could have sworn there were four of us," Hardison said and then turned to Parker with fake thoughtfulness and uncertainty. "Do you remember four? I remember four."

"Yeah! That fourth guy, he liked to beat guys into tiny bloody pulps," Parker agreed, playing along and looked up at Ackers, "Usually guys like you."

"Yes, he always was very good at his job," Sophie added, while the others nodded in agreement. Then she turned her eyes to Ackers smugly, "You haven't seen him by any chance, have you?"

The bounty-hunter's eyes were squinted in distaste as he practically spat out, "Eliot Spencer hasn't been forgotten. He'll be here shortly."

"Eliot! That was it!" Hardison replied like he should have remembered. "He's gonna kick my ass when he finds out I forgot his name. You know, if he's not too busy with yours."

"I'm not afraid of Spencer, he's been running from me for years. If I were any of you I would be more worried about not pissing off the man who makes someone like Eliot Spencer run in fear," Ackers suggested. "And don't forget, I decide all your fates now."

"Little power hungry, huh?" Parker commented, unimpressed.

"And here I thought bounty-hunters were in it for the justice of it all," Sophie said sarcastically.

"What's justice without a little profit? I hear your team knows all about that," Ackers pointed out, enjoying the mild surprise on all their faces. "Oh, you think I don't know about the 'jobs' you work. Helping people under the guise of being world class thieves. Getting justice for the little guy when the system fails him and turning in a nice profit for yourselves along the way. It's not a bad scheme, for the most part the cops never even know you're there."

"So how did you find us?" Sophie asked curiously.

"By being the best," he replied.

"No, seriously," Hardison laughed at the man's arrogance but also wanted to know where they had slipped.

"Wasn't that hard," Ackers answered smugly. "A few months ago, a friend of yours, Sterling, put out a bounty inquiry on all of you. I look into all the leads when it comes to Spencer so came to check it out. When I got to L.A. Mr. Sterling told me a nice little story of a group of thieves who thought they were regular Robin Hoods. You were long gone from the city by then, no way to track any of you, except of course your 'leader'. I gotta say, for a smart guy he doesn't cover his trail very well. Few weeks ago Nathan Ford applied for a job at Boston Insurance. They ran a background check, which set off my alarms. I came to Boston to set up some surveillance and what do I find but the biggest cache of international thieves I've ever seen, all in Nathan Ford's living room. I had to call in extra help just to deal with the sheer numbers."

"Just cause I love to be a stick in the mud, I feel the need to remind you again, that that number is still three," Hardison gloated. "And if you think you're gonna catch Eliot well, it has been no pleasure knowing you so I will not mourn your passing."

"I might throw a party. There'll be cake," Parker added. "But not for you."

"I have no intention of catching Spencer, he's going to come to me," Ackers assured them.

"And why would he do that?" Parker asked.

"Because I have you," he answered simply.

The three thieves deflated slightly at that, not enjoying the idea of being bait for this man to catch their teammate.

"Well then, you're dumb!" Parker spurted out suddenly, trying to backtrack over their previous comments. "Eliot doesn't even like us."

"Especially me," Hardison mumbled.

Ackers' brow furrowed, clearly unmoved, "For thieves, you're terrible liars."

"He won't come," Sophie assured him with a great deal more believability. "He's not that self-sacrificing."

"Then I guess we'll just have to wait and see who really knows him best," Ackers taunted, leaning over to look Sophie in the eye. Suddenly the air was split by a sharp ringing. Ackers smirked and pulled out his cell phone then looked at Sophie before he answered, "I have a feeling it's me. Hello."

"James Ackers?"

"Yes. And who's this?" Ackers asked, knowing there was far too little growling for it to be Spencer.

"Nathan Ford."

Ackers' eyes widened in surprise, "Ford, I have to say I didn't expect to be hearing from you. You should consider yourself lucky, if there was anyone out there willing to pay money for you you'd be here with your thief friends right now."

At the table Parker, Hardison and Sophie shared looks of surprise and all three leaned forward as much as possible to hear what was being said to try to figure out what Nate's plan might be.

"Speaking of which, you've got my people. I want them back," Nate said firmly but purposely lacking any intimidation in his voice. He was back at the safehouse pacing nervously with the door shut behind him to keep from waking up Eliot.

"Your people? I'm fairly certain they belong to me now, until I sell them off anyway," Ackers taunted to which Nate grit his teeth.

"Well that happens to be why I'm calling. Let me talk to them and I'll make it worth your while," Nate promised and tried not to hold his breath as he waited for a response.

Ackers' forehead creased with interest at the turn of events and after a few seconds of thought he shrugged, "Sure, why not? Might be fun."

Ackers hit a button to put his cell on speakerphone and then held it out to Sophie at head level.

"Nate?" she asked hesitantly, not sure if this might be one of Ackers' games.

"Sophie? Is everyone all right?" Nate asked in reply, relief coloring his voice.

Sophie saw Hardison lean forward and she knew he was about to start a rant about getting tasered, so she shut him up with a look and cut him off loudly, "We're all fine! Even Hardison."

Hardison huffed but sat back in his chair and muttered to himself, "But we've definitely been better."

"My wrists are sore," Parker added absently.

"You're on speakerphone," Sophie warned him in case he couldn't tell and tried to give her a message about his plan. Ackers chuckled at this, easily reading her motives.

"It doesn't matter. I just had to know you were all safe. Stay that way. All right Ackers, let's talk," Nate requested.

Switching off speakerphone the bounty-hunter put the cell back to his ear, "I'm listening."

"Like I said, I want my people back. Sneaking them all out of the country, selling each of them off individually, it's a hassle and you only stand to gain, what, three-quarters of a million dollars, tops for the combined bounties out on them all? Maybe a million if France is feeling generous," Nate theorized of the bounty-hunting process. "I'm offering you a straight forward exchange instead. I'll give you three million dollars, today in cash, if you let them all go and never come after us again."

Ackers whistled in appreciation, "That is a lot of money Mr. Ford, I'm not sure I believe you can get me that kind of cash."

"Please, my team is made up of the best thieves on the planet. You can't have any doubts that I've got it," Nate pointed out. "If you're trying to get me to go higher, a million each is more than fair."

"Oh, there's no doubt about that," Ackers agreed. "But you assume I want money."

"What else could you want?"

Ackers paused to smile at his hostages before he answered, "Eliot Spencer."

Nate hesitated, taken off guard by the demand while the others at the warehouse shared looks of shock.

"I don't think you're his type," Nate finally answered through clenched teeth, wondering angrily why his simple plans never worked out.

"Come, you know exactly what I mean. I will give you the deal of the century Mr. Ford, three thieves in exchange for one. You give me Eliot Spencer and the three I already have are free to go," Ackers promised cheerfully.

"Nate, don't let him do it!" Sophie pleaded loudly in order to be heard over the phone.

Ackers just laughed and moved further away to be out of earshot.

"Mr. Ford, I'm waiting. Do we have a deal? Or are you eager to see these three rotting in European prisons? I hear France is quite terrible to its inmates, which would be quite awful for Ms. Devereaux here especially."

Nate swallowed and pinched his forehead, "I won't betray Eliot to you, not even for them, but I'll give him the message and then he'll decide."

"Well, that's all I can ask from an honest man like yourself, isn't it? I expect to hear back from you within the hour."

Nate cringed as Eliot was still very much unconscious, "I'm going to need a little longer than that. Eliot can be a hard man to track down. It may take a few hours."

Nate felt a chill run down him when Ackers laughed mirthlessly in response, "Ford, we both know that he's with you, most likely huddled in a corner shaking like a drowned rat. That dip in the harbour couldn't have been pleasant. But I'm willing to bet he's unconscious or else he never would have let you make this call yourself. So, wake him up, give him the message and then call me back. You have two hours and then I move your people out of here and you never see them again."

Ackers didn't even wait for Nate's response before he flipped the phone shut with an air of finality and then wandered back over to his captives who were all tensely waiting to hear how the conversation had ended.

"That went well," he told them cheerfully.

Sophie straightened and glared at their captor, "He's not going to give himself over to you."

"It doesn't really matter," Ackers replied with a shrug. "Even if he doesn't come, I still have all of you. Either way, I win."

Smiling triumphantly Ackers walked away to talk to one of the armed men guarding them, which left the three thieves alone to whisper amongst themselves.

"What do we do?" Parker asked in a hush.

"Pray we get sold to a 'nice' foreign country," Hardison suggested. "Y'all know anything about Icelandic prisons? They got wi-fi?"

"Whatever we do, we can't let Eliot trade himself for us, not to this man," Sophie said seriously.

"Um … why?" Hardison asked hesitantly. When both the girls glared at him he held his hands up as defensively as he could while handcuffed. "Okay, so call me a coward who doesn't think he's gonna last a day in prison, but if Eliot wants to trade himself for us and there's no other plan, I'm not sure I'd feel an obligation to stop him. I mean, I'd visit him for sure, bring him a bunt cake and a carton of cigarettes, but I think he could handle himself in prison for awhile until we could break him out."

"That's just it Hardison," Sophie scolded him. "Eliot wouldn't be going to a prison."

Hardison clearly looked confused so Parker added, "That guy's not a cop, he's a bounty-hunter. The person who's going to pay the most for Eliot isn't going to be a state official who wants to see him behind bars. It's going to be someone way nastier who wants to make sure that Eliot's never seen again. Because he's dead. Tortured first, naturally."

"Okay, I get it. No letting Eliot save our butts," Hardison agreed, tapping the tabletop nervously. "But how exactly do you plan on stopping him?"

"I'm working on it," Sophie promised, sitting back to think things through.

"Nate will be working on it too," Parker added.

Hardison sat back and tried to look relaxed, "You know we're probably all worrying way too much, I mean, this is Nate we're talking about, the man always has a plan, right?"


Nate paced around the room, desperately wishing he had a plan. Most bounty-hunters were solely in the business for the money, they didn't care about justice for the most part, or what happened to the fugitives they brought in, which is what Nate had been depending on when he had called Ackers to make him an offer. Of course it was just their luck that the man had a personal grudge against Eliot and wanted to bring the hitter in more than he wanted to be paid. He was more unpredictable than Nate had anticipated which made it hard to work out the angles on a new plan, especially since the only thing he knew Ackers wanted for sure was Eliot. First things first, Nate had to wake the hitter up. No matter what they decided to do, they only had two hours.

It had been over an hour since Nate had checked on Eliot. As he came in with several fresh supplies he noted that the shaking wasn't as bad as it had been and the bandage on Eliot's arm hadn't soaked through with blood so the stitches must have been holding well. Still though, he was going to be exhausted and Nate hated that he had to wake him. Taking a seat next to the bed, ready to bolt if Eliot woke up violently, Nate shook his uninjured arm.

"Eliot! Eliot wake up, it's Nate. Eliot! Come on," Nate urged him towards consciousness. It was a few seconds before the hitter jerked slightly and then his eyes slid open to slowly scan the room. Nate shook him again, "Hey, Eliot. You with me?"

"Yeah, I hear you," Eliot answered softly after a few moments of shifting his chilled body and looking around to try to recognize his surroundings.

"The safehouse on Agricola," Nate told the hitter again to answer the unspoken question. He could see the pieces fall into place on Eliot's face as his expression suddenly shifted from confused to fiercely angry.

"Ackers," he breathed in a growl then looked to Nate for confirmation. "He got them?"

"Yeah," Nate told him, grabbing the hitter's good arm to help him up into a sitting position. "How are you feeling?"

Eliot was visibly attempting to stop the cold tremors as he answered, "Violent. We know where they are?"

Nate shook his head, picking up a mug and two pills he had laid out on the table when he came in and said, "He destroyed all their comms. Here, take these, drink this."

Eliot accepted the pills with a questioning glance to which Nate replied, "Just Tylenol."

Nodding his approval Eliot downed the pills to take the edge off the pain in his arm and then accepted the warm mug of tea gratefully but had to hold it tight to keep from spilling it as he was still shaking.

"Are you warm enough?"

"Yeah. So, what's the plan?" Eliot asked eagerly.

Nate leaned forward heavily and sighed, "That's why I woke you. I don't have one."

It was probably the most shocking thing Nate could have said to the hitter who stared at him in disbelief.

"Nothing?"

Nate shook his head, "I thought I had one. I called Ackers while you were asleep, offered to buy them back, figured he did this for the money like any other bounty-hunter. I was wrong. He said no."

"Do you know if they're okay?"

"He let me talk to Sophie, she said they're fine for now," Nate assured him.

"How much'd you offer?" Eliot asked.

"More than twice what he'd get for all three of them anywhere else," Nate told him then hesitated a moment before he continued. "He said he won't sell them but he's willing to make a trade. For you. We've got two hours to call him back and tell him you'll give yourself up or he says we'll never see them again."

"Son of a bitch," Eliot muttered and turned away as he thought that over for a second. "Can we use that?"

"I don't see how," Nate admitted, having already run through every scenario he could think of with just the two of them. "At least not without help."

Eliot didn't miss the suggestive tone of Nate's voice and he immediately shook his head, "I ain't calling Shawn. He got hurt enough last time, and that job didn't involve gun-toting bounty-hunters. No way."

Nate nodded, it had been a long-shot, "I understand. But I don't know what else we can do. Even if you were at full strength, from what you've said we can't take these guys out head on and I can't come up with a damn thing that would even remotely work without the others."

Eliot looked thoughtful for a moment then asked, "If you had the rest of the team, could you pull this off?"

Nate considered it and shrugged, "I've had a few ideas that could work but nothing that we could do with just the two of us. At the very least we'd need Parker or Hardison."

"That's it then. We'll get Parker, Sophie and Hardison back and then you can work something out with them to get me," Eliot decided, then reached out his hand. "Give me your phone, I'll make the call."

"No, Eliot. I'm not going to start trading my people like baseball cards. I woke you up to help me think not so you could sacrifice yourself for the others," Nate argued.

"It ain't a sacrifice, strategically it's our best move and you know it. The two of us can't do anything against these guys but you and the rest of the team could and there's only one way to get them back. I can see the gears in your head turning right now, you've already got a plan that the four of you could pull on Ackers, don't you," Eliot accused.

Nate nodded reluctantly, "Maybe the start of one, but it'd be tricky and dangerous, for you especially. This Ackers guy doesn't seem like your biggest fan."

"No, he's more like my biggest stalker, but I can take care of myself, better than the others, that's for sure," Eliot reassured him. "This is our best bet. Now let me make the call."

Nate sighed and handed his phone over reluctantly, "Just hit redial."

Eliot nodded and then looked confused when Nate started to leave the room, "Where are you going?"

"I think Hardison left some emergency equipment up in the attic. We need earpieces," Nate explained and then looked thoughtful for a moment as he considered the plan he had been putting together in his head. "And then if we've got the right supplies we'll have to do a quick round of surgery."

The last part had been mumbled absently as Nate left the room and Eliot started to wonder just how sadistic Nate could get when he was backed into a corner.

TBC

A very good question. Nate's plan – next time! Thanks for the amazing reviews guys! You're all awesome and I hope you're still greatly enjoying.