Disclaimer: Not mine.
"No exit down here, Mr. Ford."
Nate froze.
He turned his head slowly to see a small, shadowy figure move into the room. She sidestepped forward, clearing the corners with a glance. It was just the two of them. And she had him dead to rights, gun pointed at his head. He knows she'll pull the trigger. It's obviously her job.
He briefly wondered why Eliot didn't mention a professional hitman—er, woman when he discussed building security. Seemed like a hell of a thing to miss.
The woman was dressed for movement. Brown hair pulled back, dark colors, skin tight top, fitted pants with a holster for her Glock tied to her thigh. Nate doesn't doubt she has other weapons as back up. He tried not to think about where; her outfit didn't leave much to the imagination.
She's watching him, assessing. He's seen that look before. It takes him a few seconds to place, then wonders why he didn't recognize it quicker. He's seen it from Eliot...who is far from here. In another part of building. Taking care of the hired help. Too far to be of any help. Nate's mouth went dry and he wished for a drink.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd remove your earbud, Mr. Ford."
He blinks. Strangely, his mind supplies a picture of the team in his living room watching that ridiculous Matrix movie with its Mr. Anderson nonsense that Hardison made them watch. Team bonding, he'd call it. Mind-numbing, is what Nate called it. Sam would have liked it though. His heart ached momentarily.
His soon-to-be killer tilted her head slightly.
"Now, please." Her tone is cold and sharp.
He slowly reached up and removed the comm. He's slightly off balance by her manners. Somehow, he never pictured assassins requiring those skills. He holds out the comm, enticing her to take it from him. She doesn't.
"The floor will do nicely."
Well, it was worth a try.
He slowly placed it on the ground and backed up, hands in the air. She moved forward and stomped on it. Hard. He winced, imagining what the others heard. The high pitched screech ripping through your ear canal was quite excruciating and was an excellent notification of trouble. At least they'd know something went wrong. There were no cameras for Hardison to check in this part of the basement so Eliot would probably find his body first. Nate grimaced morbidly; Eliot would keep the others from seeing him. Parker and Hardison didn't need to see what happened after meeting an assassin. And Sophie… God, Sophie! He had so much he wanted to tell her but it never seemed like the right time. It never was between them.
The killer brunette hadn't moved; her gun hadn't moved either. Nate realized she was studying him like a puzzle she was trying to solve. Her expression didn't change, but the tension in the air felt different now.
Nate read the conflict in her eyes and stayed motionless.
Maybe…just maybe he can get out of this without resorting to Plan J, L or R through Z.