A/N: Here's chapter 12, and the plot thickens. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it for you. I don't own Leverage, or any of the characters within, except for those of my own creation. I write for fun and not for profit. I don't write slash.
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Chapter 12
Eliot rose and began gathering the things he would need for his trip, shocked to see that they had become so spread out. He made a mental note to be more aware of where his things were in the future. Ordinarily, he would never let his phone or anything else he carried with him stray that far from where he was, but with his injuries and Parker's illness, he had allowed it to happen this time.
"Vance, I'm gonna need to borrow your keys."
"Absolutely not! You're in no shape to drive, Eliot," Sully said, gently.
"Yeah? Well, I don't see that we have much choice. This dude of Riley's found the safe house, didn't he? If he passes that knowledge along to certain 'clients', we could be in big trouble. I have to go convince him that's a bad choice."
"I can't clear you to drive. You can barely walk."
"Damn it, Sully. I'm not asking your permission." The two men started arguing back and forth, until Vance spoke up, in a tone that cut through and silenced the chatter.
"Eliot!" He smiled when the other man stopped and turned to look at him, spearing him with an intense gaze. "In this case, I agree with Sully. You have no business trying to drive. I have a better idea." Placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, Vance leaned in and began laying out his plan. After a moment, the three men sat back, and Sully said, "That's not a bad plan, Vance."
Vance replied, "Thank you. I have my moments."
Eliot studied Vance for a moment, trying to determine his motive. He trusted his friend, there was no question there, but Vance was a man who used things and people as he had to use them to achieve his ends, and he tended to turn into something of a mother hen when one of those people was hurt, if they let him. Eliot wanted to be sure this wasn't about Vance not wanting him to drive.
"Ya think it'll work?"
"It'll work, my brother. Have a little faith."
"In you? Always!"
Eliot allowed them to settle him back down on the cot next to Parker. He really wanted to sit up some more, but after the chaos of the past few minutes, he found much of his energy lacking. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, knowing that for this plan to work, he was going to need to be at the top of his game later. When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he opened his eyes. Sully helped him sit up, and proceeded to examine him. When he was finished, he said, "Vance is loading the SUV in the garage. Let Hardison help you get out there. Vance and I will bring Parker out."
"Parker isn't going to want two strangers to carry her. Let Hardison help you and Vance can help me."
"Parker's unconscious again, so it really doesn't matter."
(0o0)
Marco wasn't happy about being surrounded. He raised his hands and held them in front of him to show them he wasn't armed. Riley had made it clear that he was to keep his presence a secret, as much as possible. The client didn't want Eliot to know that anyone was aware of his presence in DC. They hadn't known where he was staying, but Riley suspected the military man might lead them back to Eliot's hiding place. Riley hadn't thought he'd be heading back wherever he came from, injured like he'd heard he was. So, the upshot was that Marco was pretty sure he could talk his way out of the surrounding men, and he knew where the safe house was. A moment later, he looked up as the door opened. A very large man dressed in a suit filled the doorway, and at his nod, the men surrounding Marco took a step back and lowered their weapons.
"What's your business here?"
"I'm supposed to be meeting my real estate agent to look at a house in this neighborhood. I thought it was at this street address. I guess I have the wrong house. I'm sorry to disturb you." Vance nodded and his men parted in the middle to make a path for Marco to step through between them. Holding his wrist communicator up to his mouth, Vance spoke quietly, giving his men their orders. They watched Marco walk to the end of the street and climb into a car waiting there, before climbing into their own and following him at a respectable distance.
(0o0)
When they were gone, Vance stepped back into the house and made his way down the hall to the treatment room. They suddenly had a lot of work to do. Within fifteen minutes, they had set the room to rights, so that it looked like no one had been there in weeks, and they were loaded into Vance's SUV, heading for one of Vance's other safe houses in the Virginia countryside. Some of Vance's men followed in another vehicle, and some had stayed behind, and would be watching the first house they had stayed in until they were notified that the plan had worked, and then, they too would venture to the second safe house. That way, if the plan didn't work as laid out, they would be a backup system to tie up loose ends at the first safe house. Since his men were now split into three distinct groups, he called in some reinforcements of his own.
When they were safely on the road, with Hardison driving and Sully navigating, Eliot stretched out next to where Parker was resting in the hatch and leaning back against the back of the seats in front of him, he closed his eyes, knowing they had another hour in the car, and wanting to sleep. His shoulder and his leg throbbed dully, and he opened his eyes again, ten seconds later, knowing sleep was useless. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up, expecting to see Sully wanting to give him morphine or do something else medically necessary (in his own mind, at least), and so, was surprised to see Vance gazing at him with concern.
He moved to sit up, wondering if the man had news for him about Riley, and Vance put a hand out to stop him.
"Don't," he whispered, holding a Styrofoam cup out to his friend. "You need to rest. Drink this, it'll help."
Eliot sniffed it. It smelled spicy, with hints of mint and was definitely herbal.
"What is this?"
"Docs own special blend. Guaranteed to give the drinker a short, deep sleep, help them regain strength, and allow them to wake refreshed and ready to go. We've still got at least an hour's drive ahead of us. You might as well put that time to better use."
"It really works?"
"Do you think Doc would prescribe it if it didn't?" Eliot couldn't argue with that, so he put the cup to his lips and took a small sip, unsure how it would taste and unable to judge by the smell. He liked it, not that that part really mattered, but was a bit surprised at the warmth that spread through him each time he drank some of it. After he had finished about half the cup, his eyes slipped closed and his breathing evened out. Vance took the cup from him before he had the chance to drop it or spill it, placed a top on it, and put it in one of the back seat's cup holders.
(0o0)
Marco drove back to Riley's headquarters, trying to decide if the man in the suit had bought his story. Deciding he wasn't sure, he knew he had to tell Riley what had happened. They would have to inform the client, and wait for further instructions.
Riley was working on his ledger when Marco walked in. A look of annoyance flashed across Riley's face, but he schooled his features to neutral when he saw who was disturbing him.
"Did you find Spencer's hideout?"
Marco nodded.
"Well?"
"He's well protected. He has people watching the house."
"Were you seen?"
Marco nodded again. "It couldn't be helped. He got someone highly placed in the government working with him. There was no way to know that."
"Spencer's ex-military. He's probably still got friends, and that might have been who he was working for. Damn it. I should have foreseen this."
At that moment, they heard a loud commotion in the back, and then a very loud silence, and Riley sent Marco to investigate. Riley tried to go back to work, but he was curious, and finally had to admit to himself that he was waiting for Marco to come back so he could find out what was going on. Minutes ticked by, and Marco didn't show back up. When Riley realized he still hadn't come back, he looked up, to find himself staring down the barrel of a cocked pistol, and wondering how in the world the man holding it had been able to sneak up on him. He walked as quietly as Spencer did. Riley could never hear him either, now that he thought about it.
The young man standing in front of him smiled, and motioned him up out of his seat with his gun.
"Well, Mr. Riley, it seems we have an appointment. Move."
