He could feel panic start to bubble up inside the van. Could feel the tension, floating from Hardison who was typing like crazy on his computer to do God knew what, drafting from Parker who sat stock-still and chewed on her fingernails and whispering up from Sophie, who'd finally found their perfect hiding-place and was now twitching on her seat , playing with the car-keys and clearly desperate to start Lucille again, to run to the rescue.
Well, as much as they could, since the man who usually had their backs for these kind of things wasn't with them.
Nate felt himself absorbing the tension, felt his muscles stiffen and his brain start into overdrive. Deliberately, he told it to shut up, then told them to shut up as well.
"Guys, guys, come on. We can't go in there guns blazing. It'd ruin everything, and we can't risk that, not at this stage."
"Nate-"
"No, Sophie. We can't. And it's not about me just sticking to the plan no matter what. It has to do with logic. Guys, a second before we lost the GPS, we talked to Eliot. He was certain he could deal with things. I trust his assessment."
"It wouldn't be the first time he was wrong."
"Really? When was the first time?" Parker interrupted. Everyone started at her. "What? I'm just asking!"
"Uh... I don't know. Dubenich I guess? Being lured to a bomb?"
"Oh... yeah. 'kay, that would count."
"What do you mean, Nate, with logic?"
He was glad Sophie interjected. Sometimes, Hardison and Parker gave him a headache. "We talked to him, just before he went down into a basement that's... well, I guess it was prepared to hold... someone..." A kid, a boy, a little child, someone like Samhis heart unhelpfully screamed at him. He told it to stop. "...Someone for a long time. Secure and safe."
"Aaah, that... that makes sense, yes." Hardison swiveled on his chair and was already typing furiously, mumbling abut boosting this or tweaking that... Nate didn't really care. "Yeah, okay, I got it back. Just the signal, no audio. But yeah, you were right. It's the... the room, I guess." He swallowed, licked his lips and wiped his mouth. "It's soundproof, and probably has lead-enforced walls. It's... well. A vault."
"A safe... for a kid." Sophie whispered. "That is wrong on so many levels."
Nate couldn't agree more, but right now, he had to pull himself together. They all depended on him to keep his cool, to stay detached. Or at least detached enough to function. He glanced over at Parker, who'd been deceptively silent. She'd gone pale, you could see it even in the artificial light of the car.
"Parker?" he tried to rouse her, and to his surprise, she snapped back to them at once.
"There is no safe I can't crack."
Wherever she'd gone, whatever bad place she'd visited, she had come to a decision, the conclusion that whatever was inside that room, if all else failed, she would be able to open it.
Silently, Nate prayed to God that she wouldn't have to.
"Okay..." He cleared his throat, wishing for whiskey. "We give Eliot... five more minutes. Then we'll start the car and go find him. If he's not on audio again in five minutes, the con's off and we... find an alternative."
Nate'd never killed a man. Came close, oh yes, he came close, but he'd never done it.
He might do it today. And he was pretty okay with that idea.
Lucille's engine had just rumbled to life when Eliot's voice returned to their comms. "That's really very impressive, Mr Smith. We might come to an agreement after all..."
"I'm very happy to hear that, Mr Evan. Would you like a.. Winham stopped, maybe remembering the last time he offered a drink to this man, or maybe just catching a glare from Eliot. "... Uhm, I'll bring you back to your car."
"That is too kind of you." Eliot sneered, arrogance dripping from his voice. "Do you want me to put the mask back on?"
"Well... yes. I do.
"Fine. Try to avoid the potholes this time."
For a few moments more, the team was silent, waiting. When they heard the rumble of a starting car, they let out a collective breath.
"Okay guys, here's is what we do... "
When it was clear that Eliot had been taken back to the gas-station safely, Nate was relieved. It wasn't that he doubted his hitter could take that sleazy asshole, but it felt wrong to sit in the van miles away and just listen in.
The deal hadn't yet been made but Evan Howard would call Winham in a day to arrange it. "So, the price stands, yes? Six million dollars?"
"Yes, six million. Would you want it cash?"
Eliot hesitated.
"Your call," Nathan murmured, glad the van's equipment could boost the ear-buds' range far enough to still be in contact. It didn't really matter how the money would be exchanged. They already had access to Winham's accounts, had had it the moment he'd paid Sophie.
"Well, that'd be really your call now, would it?" Eliot shot the ball back into the mark's half, "seeing as it would be you who leaves the trails?"
"Oh, don't worry about me, Mr Evan. But since you don't have any preference, it seems, I'll bring you half in cash and half will be wired. Is that all right?"
"Fine. Now, I have a meeting to get to. Nice doing business with ya." Nate and Sophie could hear him walk away, unlocking and slipping into the car, starting it up and pulling out quickly.
"Meet you at the office," was all he spoke, then the comm went silent.
Sometimes, Boston traffic was a curse. When they finally returned, Eliot sprawled on the couch, a large pot of coffee in his hand and his hair still damp from a shower. Apparently, letting him use the private bathroom once now counted as a general convenience... On the stove, something delicious was gurgling, so it seemed Eliot had used the time they were still in the woods and later stuck in a pile-up on Storrow Drive by keeping his hands busy. And use the impressive knife-set he'd given Nate as some kind of present, which Nate still didn't know who it had really been for. He could barely cook Spaghetti.
"Ouuuuh, there's food!" Parker skipped to the stove like she hadn't eaten half of Hardison's gummy-frogs in the van. "What is it?" Before any kind of answer, she opened the lid, letting it fall down right away when she burned her fingers. "Ouch!"
"Hot." Eliot drawled, a lazy grin on. He seemed...well, fine. Mostly fine, though a little tired. "It's not finished, Parker, needs to cook for about twenty minutes."
Sophie settled down on the left side of the couch, dropping her shoes – the sensible, low-heeled ones – and curling up like a satisfied cat. Nate wished he could grab her and hold her close, drown himself in her scent and patience. But this wasn't the time.
He poured himself a glass, sighing when the smooth, smokey tinge crept into his blood and warmed his insides. Pretended not to see Sophie's scowl.
"Eliot?"
"You been down there?" Hardison shook his head, as did Parker. He'd given them just half an hour to bug the porch and living-room, hadn't wanted to send anyone of them into that basement and too wary to go himself. He'd figured they could go back any time they needed.
It was a cabin, for fishing or hunting. Well-stocked with supplies, a television, DVDs, books. No weapons or anything suspicious. A bedroom, a kitchenette. Convenient and simple, yet a bit more than just the basics.
"I found why we didn't know about it," Hardison interrupted. He'd been doing his magic the whole way back, and now he looked smug. "It's not in his name, or in his company or anything. It's been bought in the name of ...uh" he typed on his I-Pad "James Connor Luckland. Guy is real, as far as I can figure out, or he's a really good ghost. Got social security, health-insurance, an address in New Jersey and a small business – installing sun-screens and bug-nets for windows. Only way to verify it for sure would be to pay him a visit..."
"I don't think that's necessary now. We should leave something for the cops to do, they might feel left out otherwise," Nate grinned. "Think we should get McSweeten and Taggert get the case?"
Parker let herself drop over the backrest of the couch, falling half on Eliot, half on Hardison. "Oh yes, Todd's cute."
"What? Girl, you don't say stuff like that when I'm sitting right here!"
"Why not? It's true. Sophie thinks so too."
"Oh, you do?" Nathan inquired, but he smiled. As surely as McSweeten would never know how to deal with Parker, he'd be eaten alive by Sophie Devereaux. Sophie smiled back at him, lazy and sure. Oh damn, that woman had him hook, line and sinker. One smile, and he had to fight every instinct to not run over there and... uh. Yeah. Not do that.
"Parker! I thought... I mean..." It was a little heartbreaking to see Hardison trying to define what they were, what that meant, without chasing her away by making too many demands. Alec didn't want to tie her down, yet couldn't always follow where she went.
"Parker, men don't like it if women tell them another man is cute. They feel like we don't pay attention to them, or might chose someone else over them."
Parker just stared back at Sophie, uncomprehending, then she grinned. "Ah, no, why would they. Hardison wouldn't. Right?" She turned her head so she could look her … boyfriend? - in the eyes. "Right?"
"Uh, yeah, of course. Not. Of course not, ha ha, noooo, why should I... about Todd... naaw, not me. Uh-uh" Smooth looked different, but it was apparently enough for her to wiggle further into Hardison's lap. Eliot tried to keep her feet away from his own legs, but she just put them back against him. With a sigh, he untied her shoes to at least get the dirt off his jeans.
"Man, if I'd have known this is going to be partner-therapy, I'd have brought something to read," he growled, but there was no heat behind it. Nate smiled. Pussy-cat.
He hated to interrupt, but still... "All right. Do we need to postpone the debriefing?"
"Don't think so." They were back on track, everyone sat up straighter and even Parker gave up her position. Hardison pouted a little, but Eliot seemed glad to have her feet away from him. She tended to kick when excited. "And the food will keep for a day anyway."
"Uh, reassuring. So... what about the basement?" Nate poured another drink, then settled in one of the armchairs – bottle on the floor – resting his elbows on his thighs.
"It's... well. A room. Nothing bad or anything. Just a room. For a kid. With toys – cars and such things" he added, and Nate poured himself another shot. "Television, books, that kind of stuff. A fridge, a microwave. No windows, a huge lock on the door."
Parker perked up. "What kind?"
"Uh..." his eyes flitted while he tried to remember. "Timmons? Timetron? Something like that?"
"Hm, Timmerman?" When he nodded, she smiled. "It's a good one. Keypad or dial?"
"Dial."
"Okay, no problem." Parker thought a moment. "Sixteen seconds, tops. I could've gone in there in no time." She frowned at Nathan, but he refused to feel guilty.
"Yeah... well. That's it. It's... a secure room." Eliot shrugged, like that kind of thing was common occurrence to him. It might be, but Nate spotted the little twitch in his eyelid. He treasured it, stored it away, this little sign of discomfort. He might need the reminder of it if the plan ran its course. If all went right, he could easily forget.
"So... what's the plan, then. I mean, apparently the initial idea was cast aside – without us knowing about it," Sophie glared first at Nate, than at Eliot. Ho unfair! It hadn't been his idea!
Eliot sighed, ready to explain but Nathan dropped in before the first word.
"If we'd just given him over to the cops with the pictures, it would have been too insubstantial to make a solid case. He could claim he didn't know, or that he wanted to take them down himself." He stopped, looked at his team. Eliot nodded while Sophie stared unbelieving at them.
"That's... who would believe that?"
"It happened before," Eliot drawled, and this time it was Hardison who nodded.
"Yeah. Everyone knew it was bullcrap, but … there was no evidence. So..."
"Oh my God! What if Winham skates by the same?"
"He won't," Nate answered. "We'll make sure of that." He gave a short smirk, then started explaining.
The food burned on the stove.
.
.
tbc
a/n: Just so you know, I don't know anything about Boston and the surrounding area, and have no clue how long it would take to get somewhere. So. No offence.