"Good luck!" Nate called to them. Then once the door closed, "You'll need it."


The foreboding gray building of the joint INS/U.S. Marshal headquarters looked even more dismal in the fog and drizzle. And that was just the front. At the back, where Hardison and Sophie were marching up, the place looked down right depressing. It wasn't supposed to be the Hilton, and so therefore it worked perfectly to hold the offices of the two agencies created to regulate immigration and government laws.

Cruisers, vans, trucks, not to mention the various assortments of officers and detainees milled around the back; coming and going, picking up and dropping off their cargos. Behind one of the vans, Sophie mussed up her hair, tossed a stick of gum in her mouth and slightly ruffled her clothes. Hardison pulled a set of handcuffs out of the briefcase he was carrying and Sophie placed her hands behind her back. He pulled the badge out from under his shirt and put on the INS jacket he had made shortly before they left Boston. Cuffed, Sophie closed her eyes, took a deep breath and assumed her character. Hardison grabbed her arm, "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Let's go," she opened her eyes and started marching out from behind the van. She pretended to struggle with him and spouted off, loudly enough to capture a few people's attention. She yelled at him, bouncing back and forth between Spanish and English. What she was saying was not pretty and even was starting to raise a few eyebrows from a few of the gang members waiting for their agent handlers to take them inside.

"You're starting to overkill, Sophie," Nate's voice came through the com in her ear, "Tone it down a bit." She growled through her teeth and continued to struggle as Hardison marched her through the throng of people.

"Oh, calm down, mamacita," Hardison was saying, "You're just pissed 'cause you got caught…" He continued to scold her as they marched past other officers and prisoners, many of whom were cheering on the actress as she continued to lambast him in Spanglish.

The reception area was crowded, even at this early hour of the morning. Hardison, who had studied the maps and blueprints of the facility while waiting for the plan to take off, navigated Sophie off the side, where three hallways branched off from the main room. They took the left hall and, flashing his badge at the security checkpoint officer who nodded and waived him past the metal detector, walked down to the elevator. He punched the down arrow and waited a short while before the ding that the mobile box had stopped at their floor. They entered and before anyone else could join them, Hardison hit the "close" button and the button for Sublevel 2. Just as they got underway, he pushed the "stop" button and they came to a halt.

"Where are we at, you two?" Nate asked.

"We're in the elevator," Hardison answered, removing the handcuffs and turning his back to the Grifter as she started to change. Granted she had a blouse and skirt on under the baggy clothing she was wearing, he still felt improper just watching her remove her outer clothes. "Sophie's changing and we're about to get out on Pablo's level." Hardison opened up the briefcase and placed the discarded clothes and shoes inside a small duffle bag that had been folded up inside and pulled out a suit coat and heels for his partner to wear.

"Excellent," Nate sounded relieved.

After Hardison had placed his own INS costume in the duffle, he zipped up the bag and handed it to Sophie. He knelt on the ground and looked to the floor as she climbed onto his back (sans heels of course), reached up and moved the trap door at the top of the elevator out of the way. She threw the duffle up and over so it would be hidden on top of the vehicle. She replaced the door and climbed back down. Fixing her suit, she stepped into her heels and started to meditate to get herself into her new character. Hardison pressed the "Start" button and the elevator started to descend again. "How's our other half doing?" she asked.

"Not the greatest," Eliot's drawl rumbled through the com.

0000oooo0000

Of the list that Hardison had supplied the Hitter and the Thief, four of the businesses were bars, a couple more were grocery/miscellany goods stores, two family restaurants, and a parking lot. Unsurprisingly, they struck out at the bars, which weren't open that early in the morning. The parking lot was also a bust. The only bit of luck Eliot and Parker has was one of the family restaurants- El Sombrero Rojo by name- sat across the street from one of the grocery stores. The two of them sat at a table in front of the large picture window, having a couple more cups of coffee and watching the comings and goings of the clientele at each business. So far, nothing out of the ordinary had caught their eye- simple little families flitting in and out of the stores, purchasing goods.

Eliot looked around the little restaurant. A couple of small families sat in booths, having brunch. Over in the corner over by the doors that led to the kitchen, three Hispanic males sat conversing in low tones. He couldn't see their faces clearly because they were in a dark corner and the three men were talking so close. Funny, he didn't remember seeing them enter and they certainly weren't there when he and Parker had gotten there. He had made certain of noting their surroundings- anyone who was in the room and all ways of exit and entrance. He only had taken his eyes off the front door for a second to look the other way down the street. "Parker," he said low. She stopped gazing outside to look at him. "Keep watching outside. Let me know if you see anything funny."

"Why? Where are you going?" she looked concerned.

"Nowhere," he said into his coffee, glancing sideways over to the table, "I just wanna stay focused on those cats over in the corner."

Parker resisted the urge to just spin around and look at what had Eliot's attention. She simply pretended to tuck an invisible hair over her ear and used her peripheral vision to take a look. She nodded and continued to look back outside at the people wandering on their errands. Hurry up and wait. She was so tired of just sitting. There were places to be and things to steal, places to break into and money to earn. Playing surveillance was never, ever a strong suit. Her surveillance consisted of five minutes of actually glancing over the property, listing out the security system(s) and the counter measures to trick or disarm it/them, and anywhere between eight to fifteen seconds to get her items and get out. She thought her head would explode if she had to sit any longer. Instead, she started to bounce her knee and sighed.

The chimes overhead of the front door rang out and a stunning Latina walked in. Her hair hung down past her shoulders and its sheen sparkled in the artificial lighting. The pink and red sundress she wore flowed and clung to her shapely body at just the right times as she walked. The hostess greeted her by name in Spanish and swept her arm back to the table with the three gentlemen. The hot woman's voice was pure crystal when she answered and as she made her way back towards the kitchen, she happened to look over and made eye contact with Eliot. His eyes sparkled and he flashed a flirtatious smile at her. She smirked back and said "hola" softly, just barely audible for him to hear. He watched as she went back to the table and had this sinking feeling. Strange. Usually gorgeous women like that provoked other reactions in him. There was just something off about her.

He happened to look back at the table with the three men were and watched as she opened her arms wide and sat down in the lap of the man in the middle, planting kisses all over his face. When they pulled back and looked at their other companions, Eliot realized who it was. The Latina was the woman from their briefing- the one Espinosa had his arm around in the picture. And the man whom she had been kissing was none other than the cartel leader himself.