I don't own Leverage or any of the characters. The only compensation I get come in review form. ;) Special thanks to my mentor, Valawenel and my sis, Maddie. You ladies keep me sane.
The Off Label Job Chapter 10
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Conrad grabbed Chris's chin and forced him to look up at him. He looked for a sign of fear from the man but saw none. This man is infuriating. "Just because I need you alive does not mean you have to be in one piece. When I come back you will tell me where you team is. Or I start cutting off fingers."
The colonel exited the room before Robinson could say anything. He knew he would follow him. He stopped outside the door and waited for his shocked second in command. "What is it, Robinson? Is there a problem?"
"You-you said we need him alive. What was that?" Robinson motioned back toward the room. "You cut him too deep!"
"That," Conrad said, "was letting him know how serious I am. I'm through playing. I want his team and I want that file."
"But you said you want him alive. He could bleed to death."
"I'm pretty sure that's why I told you to take care of it." He narrowed his eyes at Robinson. "Is there a problem?"
"N-no. There's no problem."
Conrad let anger seep into his voice. "Then get to it. Now is not the time to get soft. He is going to give us what we want. We're close. He's finally admitted that there is a team. He'll give us what we need."
Robinson followed him down the hall. "You cut him too deep. You could have hit an artery or something. Not getting any information that way!"
Conrad spun on his heel to stare down Robinson. "You may want to watch your tone." He waved his hand dismissively. But Robinson had a point. "If an artery had been hit blood would have been spurting out. Come with me and get a first aid kit or something. At most a vein's been nicked and we don't want him dying yet."
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Parker watched Nate maneuvering the van through the streets of Boston on the way to the abandoned mental hospital. The silence was deafening. In fact, the only sounds were the ones from the live video feed.
"Parker, how is he?" Nate asked.
Parker knew his voice was firm and steady for the benefit of the team. The intermittent flashes from street lights exposed his worried expression as he drove the van in and out of traffic. He was aware of Sophie's gaze from the passenger's seat. Parker turned to look at the monitors.
Truth was, Eliot hadn't moved a lot since the colonel had finished with him. His head sagged and his chin was touching his chest.
"He doesn't look good, Nate. He hasn't really moved much."
Hardison leaned closer to the screen. "C'mon, Eliot. C'mon, man. Move. Show us you're okay."
A sympathetic look passed between the two of them as they watched the screen together.
Finally, the hitter stirred and slowly raised his head. He tried to flip his hair out of his face but his head lolled to the side.
His ragged breathing and quiet moans filled the van, causing the rest of the team to fidget in their seats.
Parker swallowed the pain in her throat from the sob that threatened to escape. She had never seen him this bad. He couldn't even hold his head up. He tried again and managed to raise his head up somewhat straight. "He's holding his head up, guys. He's...okay." She knew she was exaggerating when she saw the blood on his torso.
Sophie turned and watched the screen from the passenger's side. "What is he doing?"
"Is he struggling to get free again?" Hardison asked. "He hasn't been able to make any progress so far. He's gonna hurt himself even more."
"He's making himself bleed more," Parker said. I wonder what he's thinking?
She watched as Eliot groaned and pulled as much as he could on his left arm. "How far away are we?"
Nate checked the nearest road sign. "Should be only ten minutes but if this traffic doesn't ease up it's gonna be more like fifteen. Why? What's happening?"
Parker met Nate's gaze in the mirror. "He's trying to open the wound up to bleed more."
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Eliot listened to Robinson and the colonel argue outside his cell. So Robbie Boy was going to have to tend the wound. Perfect. He did know that he was going to have to get out of here sooner rather than later. Conrad was close to the edge.
Taking a deep breath, he moved his arm as much as possible. It hurt. He'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't. After a few more quick inhalations, he leaned forward as much as he could, stretching his arm and shoulder. The new wetness that traveled down his chest and bicep let him know the wound was opening up more.
He collapsed back into the chair when black dots danced in front of his vision. Panting heavily, he closed his eyes to will his vision to clear. C'mon, Spencer. Get a grip. Can't pass out now. His mutilated wrists felt raw but he couldn't stop now.
A little opening is all I need.
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Nate stopped Lucille at a traffic light. Again. Parker looked through the windshield at the empty sidewalk. He's letting a perfectly good sidewalk go to waste. All he has to do is-
Quiet tapping from the driver's seat caught her attention and she watched Nate.
He checked his watch and drummed the steering wheel with his fingertips. "Why don't these people move?"
Sophie's leg bounced even as she said, "Calm down, Nate. We need to get there in one piece if we're going to help him. What's he doing now, Parker?"
"He's still stretching his shoulder out," Parker said.
Hardison shook his head. She watched the tic at the corner of his eye and saw for the first time how tired he looked. "Why?" Hardison asked. "I don't understand. He doesn't know we're on our way. He's…he's gonna hurt himself even more."
Parker leaned back in her seat and propped her foot up on the work table. It wasn't lost on her that Hardison didn't even complain about her boot being dangerously close to his equipment. "I know why," she said.
"What could he possibly hope to accomplish?" Nate asked.
Parker shrugged. "The colonel told the guy to take care of it. They need him alive. If Eliot is bleeding enough, he'll have to un-cuff his hands from behind his back. That position just pulls the wound open more."
"Ain't it a little dangerous to be making yourself bleed like that?" Hardison looked worried.
Nate glanced up into the rear view mirror. "Eliot knows how far he can push himself. We have to trust him."
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Robinson returned to the cell with the supplies he would need to tend their prisoner's wound. The man looked as if he hadn't moved. Long hair formed a shroud around Chris's face and Robinson didn't know if he was conscious or not. "Chris," he said. There was no response.
Pulling an extra chair in front of the injured man, Robinson sat down and tilted the other man's head back. Both cuts were bleeding sluggishly. Conrad hadn't hit an artery but he could have hit a vein. If he had, that would be enough to cause the man to bleed to death without proper help.
Robinson took a moment to look at Chris. Really look at him. He was beaten, battered, drugged and bloody. Yet he still hadn't given up his team. There was a time when Robinson had been a part of a team like that. Nowadays he wasn't so sure. The colonel would probably sell him out in an instant to save his own hide.
Chris was completely unconscious. His head tipped to the right in what looked to be an uncomfortable angle but it allowed Robinson a better view of the gashes. The one on his bicep wasn't as bad as the stab/cut near his shoulder.
He was just getting his supplies in order when he heard the slurred drawl. "You…gotta…gotta un-cuff me."
Robinson snorted in disbelief. "You think I'm crazy? Un-cuff you so you can jump me the minute your hands are free?"
Chris shook his head wearily. "L-listen. 'M not…" His eyes slipped closed for a few seconds. "Goin' anywhere. You can…can cuff them again in front…if you want. This-"His chin sagged down toward his chest again as if he were losing his grip on consciousness.
"C'mon." Robinson nudged his good shoulder. "What are you talking about?"
Chris tried to jerk his head upright but that made him look like he wanted to vomit. "This way pulls wound open more. Gon'…bleed death." His head fell over toward the left shoulder this time.
He doesn't seem to be in any condition to try anything. "You better not try anything," Robinson muttered. "I'm supposed to be keeping you alive here."
Robinson debated for another moment and then un-cuffed Chris. He grunted quietly as Robinson eased his arms from between the slats of the chair.
Chris began to tip forward as if he was too weak to sit up now that his hands were free. Robinson caught him with a hand on his chest and pushed him back in the chair.
Robinson grabbed their prisoner's left wrist and snapped the cuffs back in place in front of Chris's torso. The man didn't move. Didn't even raise his head. Probably couldn't with the drugs in his system. Robinson sat back down in the chair facing the prisoner. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
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Nate slammed Lucille in park after they skidded to a stop. He surveyed the intimidating structure as it loomed darkly over the parking lot. He didn't want to think about what their teammate, their friend, was going through. But they had all seen it. And it would surely fuel many nights of insomnia in his case.
"Hey!" Hardison yelled. "Take it easy on Lucille, Nate. She's a member of this team too."
Nate ground his teeth in frustration. "Well, Hardison, which is more important; Lucille, or getting to Eliot before he either bleeds out or that lunatic kills him?"
Hardison actually looked subdued. "Eliot of course. It's just you were driving crazy." He motioned toward Parker to illustrate his point.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Parker grumbled.
Sophie spoke up before the situation could get completely out of hand. "Okay, so we're here. What's the plan?"
Dark eyes turned to Nate. He almost flinched under the weight of the trust in her gaze. Hardison and Parker were watching him too. He was the mastermind. The brain. And the stakes for his team had never been higher.
"Nate?" Sophie looked worried. "There is a plan, right?" A plan that involves me going in with Parker. That should go over well.
He realized she must have been talking to him and getting no response. "There's a plan. Hardison, can you get control of their security system? We need them blind for a while. But we don't want to get their attention. They can't know they're blind."
Hardison nodded. "I can do that. I'm already in their system. I can feed them recordings of empty hallways while everybody's favorite thief works her magic."
"Good." Nate nodded and eyed Parker. "We're going to need all the time you can buy us."
The blonde's eyes narrowed in that way that made her look as if she was thinking about shoving someone off a tall building. "What do you mean we? I'm going in after him."
"You don't understand." Nate raked his hand through his hair before he could stop it. He took a deep breath and tried to calm at least his voice down. "Eliot is dangerous enough. Now he's been tortured. He's hurt and drugged. He's just trying to survive right now."
"So?" Parker was clearly confused. "It's me."
"Parker, I don't think you understand. They've injected him with that drug. Remember he's going to be sedated but still able to respond to stimuli. He may not know who's coming after him. As dangerous as he is with all his faculties intact, imagine him heavily drugged. He's going to strike at anything moving."
"He's right." Sophie stared at the laptop with the feed of Eliot. "Look at him. Once he's free, he will lash out at anyone near him. He won't know if they are a threat or not. You better damned well believe that all he's going to be focused on is preventing more pain."
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Robinson pulled an extra chair within reach and focused on getting his supplies laid out in the order he would need them. Chris was still sitting with his chin sagging to his chest. Cuffed hands lying in his lap were motionless except for the tremor that ran through them every few seconds.
It'll be a miracle if I can even help him. "Chris." There was no movement from the man. "Hey. You gotta wake up. Look at me."
Another tremor ran through his body and the chains around his ankles clattered in the quiet room. Robinson nudged the uninjured shoulder and called a little louder. "Chris. Wake up."
Chris jerked and his eyes snapped open.
"Hey. It's just me. We gotta get that wound looked at." Robinson peered closer at Chris's shoulder.
The injured man's head lolled weakly to the side. "Wha's your first…first name, Robbie?"
Robinson was surprised as he raised his eyes to Chris's ashen face. "My name's Alex. Why?"
A change in his eyes should've warned him; a spark ignited in a second.
Cuffed hands surged forward, grabbing him around the back of his neck. He choked in disbelief; too fast for a man injured this bad…
"Because I like to be on a first name basis with people when I smash their face in," the growled whisper was the last thing he heard before everything turned black.