The Kryptonite Job Chapter 14, a leverage fanfic

The Kryptonite Job – Chapter 14

There's one more chapter after this one, stay tuned.

Billy's Heliport near Putney was less than a half an hour drive from Brattleboro.

Nate decided they would go with his simple recon Plan A: a quarreling pair followed by two private investigators. Four of them could spread around easily and confuse a lot of people, even at a busy heliport, while at the same time finding out everything about flight plans and eventually the Korean whereabouts.

When they arrived, one thing became clear - they didn't even need Plan A, much less any other, more complicated variant of it.

"You know, we can still play out your Plan A," Sophie said when he stopped the van in the middle of a meadow with only one helicopter parked on it. Not a living soul anywhere in sight. "Just to stay on full form."

Hardison opened the side door and peered out. "Don't tell me they just parked a chopper here, locked it, and left it?"

Nate observed around the meadow with only a small landing circle in the middle. Two shipping containers were all that stood there besides that chopper. "I guess that word heliport was a little misguiding."

"This is a medevac chopper, so at least one thing you guessed was right. What now?"

They all jumped out of the van. Nate stood by the door, thinking, while Sophie and Parker went closer to the chopper. "You brought all those bags," he said to Hardison when Parker went around the chopper. "Did you bring something useful in them? Something that might keep that chopper on the ground, permanently?"

"A water purifier, a tent, a shovel… nah, I don't think so. But I can-" A chirp from Hardison's phone cut the hacker off, and he quickly checked the message. "It's Becker. Our oca crisis has ended and without slaughtering any of the plants. He managed to fill the entire menu with the supplies that arrived."

Nate still couldn't figure out what dreadful things would happen if they had simply changed the blasted menu without Eliot knowing it, but he said nothing. "Now we only have to think what to do with four boxes with forty-nine plants in each, and possibly before Eliot returns and asks why our office looks like the scenery from Jurassic Park."

"Priorities, Nate, priorities. It's not like you to think about trivial problems while we're in the middle of serious trouble."

"Yeah, I was the one who was occupied by the menus all the time, right? Come with me. We'll take a look at that chopper and you can think of some way to keep it on the ground."

"I can't hack a computer while it's turned off, Nate, just like I can't hack a chopper that's turned, well, off."

"There are more ways to deal with a chopper, than hacking."

"Right. Like I'm the one who knows all the whoompa-paps and-" Hardison stopped talking and looked behind him, and Nate turned around. Parker stepped closer before pushing a mess of cables with lots of electronic thingies hanging dead from it, into his hands.

"Your chopper," she said. "It will only fly with a lot of fairy dust and happy thoughts. Even if they somehow manage to get some fairy dust on the black market, they'll have serious problems conjuring up happy thoughts, when they arrive and see I cut its heart out."

Hardison grinned. "I won't even mention how creepy you sound. Good job, momma."

Sophie joined them and raised her eyebrows at the cables. "I see," she said. "However we aren't any closer to getting Eliot and Florence out of… whatever mess they are in. There's nobody here, nothing we can find out. What now?"

"The general," Nate said. "Hardison?"

The hacker sighed. "To deal with the general, I'll need three things: some knowledge about the Canadian underground scene in Niagara Falls, their TV stations, and local police channels – and I don't have any of that."

"Yeah. How long?"

Another grin. "Fifteen minutes, if you let me type in peace."

Nate looked around. Hills entirely surrounded this meadow; hills with endless trees. He went to the chopper and put the cables back into the hole in side plating where Parker opened it and tore it out. Oil on his hands stained the same way blood would, and he quickly pushed the cables in and put the hatch back to hide the mess.

The only sounds around them were from birds chirping in the trees, but it would change soon. They had to clear out.

"Start the van, Parker. We are sitting ducks out here in the open." He wiped his hands on his trousers. Sophie's eyebrows jumped up once more. "Take us towards those hills, and find a good spot for observing. Hardison needs to type in peace."

Sterling studied the speed with which evening was settling in. He made a mental calculation for the best time for media coverage. The evening headlines, spread over all the important time zones were closing in, right on time.

The garden was one huge crime scene, and everybody still worked according to his orders: fast and furious: Just how he liked it best.

He kept his back turned on the porch where Spencer and Florence sat for an entire four minutes; in that time he had talked with his agents, given orders, directed the cops. When he finally decided to take a look in that direction, he saw Spencer and Florence were still there. Four minutes of nobody paying attention to them was enough for them to clear out of there, without any questions, and more importantly, without any need to talk about his decision.

Okay, five more minutes. Maybe Spencer wasn't sure that this was it – that he could actually go. Though, to be honest, maybe he was simply waiting for the sudden twist, not fully trusting Sterling that he would actually let him go. He would be suspicious if he were him, too.

He went to the police car parked last in the line of four others, ready to take the Koreans to Brattleboro. He checked the SWAT cops as he passed; all the Koreans were handcuffed, huddled together, and surrounded with the entire team.

Denise was in the last car, alone.

He opened the door. She raised her eyes to him.

"Maybe she wasn't yours… but you were her friend," he said. Her gaze twitched aside. "I hope you will live a long, long life. And may your every day be colored with the last smile she gave you before you killed her."

He closed the door with a quiet click. No amount of slamming could help now to ease his hatred and bitterness that he felt. Min-Jung's death could've been prevented if only he hadn't been so blind. Her death lay on him. Only him.

He took a few steps on autopilot, dragging his feet as a heavy weight settled on his shoulders. He was only minutes apart from collapsing, and he had to use them to finish this utter mess around him and make sure everything was tied up neatly.

When he looked back at the porch, he let out an annoyed grunt; Spencer was still there. Florence babbled with Amanda near their tactical vehicle. Bloody idiots; this wasn't time for bonding and damn friendship bracelets. He was this near to sending it all to hell, and arresting them both.

Spencer seemed to be fascinated with observing his fingernails, sitting on the stairs with his head lowered.

But then, while he watched him with growing annoyance, Spencer raised his head and looked directly into his eyes. And a small subliminal alarm started ringing in Sterling's head.

"Our romance thingy is obviously over, Eliot Spencer."

He stirred and looked at Florence. She waved a rag before his face. "Uhm, what?" he said.

"Uhm? Now you're going with uhm?" Her smile showed him she wasn't serious, something that he should've known at once. He put some effort in keeping his gaze on her, though a movement behind her drew his attention. "You aren't listening to me at all," she continued and waved her rag once more. "Do you have a concussion? I tried to wipe that blood from your face, and you didn't even blink."

Of course he didn't blink. There was too much of everything going on around them, and he monitored every step of every cop and agent going to and fro.

He was sitting on the porch stairs, leaning with his good shoulder against the railings, and he had a perfect view of the entire garden, with a good part of the road below it. The two police cars containing the heavily guarded Koreans had already left. Maddox took seriously Sterling's orders about security. That part was covered.

He was so tense that he almost felt screeching when his ribcage expanded each time he breathed; her slight frown that took the place of her smile showed him it was becoming visible too. He stretched his legs on the stairs and leant back a little more, but that attempt at nonchalance didn't work. "Okay, since you ask… yeah, that hit in the head is still spinning everything around me, so don't wave that rag too much. I just need a couple of minutes."

"Now?" she darted a sideways glance. "Wouldn't it be clever to clear out, before Sterling changes his mind?"

"It would." He forced a smile onto his face, and rubbed his forehead, carefully, to hide the falseness of the smile. "But since we are still here, monitoring them all is clever too. In fact, you can do something useful, instead of tilting around me – seriously, I only need a short breather – and you could mingle a little, see what the agents are sayin'."

"Both you and Sterling are pushing me into unpleasant territories, talking with people. I can't grift."

"Just listen. Go. And stay only where I can see you, all right? 'Cause you're right… Sterling isn't to be trusted."

She pushed the rag into his hands and got up from the stair. "Okay," she said with a troubled sigh. "Five minutes, and then I'm calling a taxi."

He nodded and smiled, then quickly frowned to remind her of his headache.

He followed her with his eyes until she stood with Amanda and two female cops, then he found himself straighten a little, resting his left arm on his knee. If he were right, he was going to need that arm very soon.

He could be wrong. There might be some other random explanation why both Koreans began their attacks by first aiming at his dislocated shoulder. That could be pure coincidence, or they spotted he was guarding that arm. But denial in his line of work, led to a quick death.

Except Sterling and Florence, the only man who knew about that shoulder was the one who dislocated it: Light Eyes whom he fought in front of the lake house. Only he could tell that to the rest of his group, waiting here around the house.

He quickly counted all of them. Three Koreans he took down by the lake house, and all three of them were taken to hospital, to join the two he'd dealt with during their trek through the woods. Five down. And it was very likely that all five of them were once again back in play.

No, he corrected himself. Not all five. The first one he fought in the woods had a broken leg. Younger One from the lake house, too. His knee was shattered into pieces. The remaining three were left in somewhat better condition and they could walk: Jonas with a broken arm, the first guy from the lake house too, and Light Eyes was only knocked out, briefly. Those three would have been able to leave hospital on their own and join the rest of them. They were here.

Dammit all, he was beyond tired.

It would be so easy to grab Florence, take the car and flee while they could. He would do it, even if he had to fight his way through the cops.

But he was three Koreans short of having them all caught. Only when he had them all locked up could he hope of Florence staying safe, as Florence, and not under some false name with a false life.

He didn't have to wait long for their move.

Slow steps on the porch behind him stopped at the edge of the stairs. He could see the dark blue trousers out of the corner of his eye; a cop's uniform.

"You have a gun pointed at your back," a familiar voice said. Jonas Kang. "Remain sitting and don't make any sudden move."

He gave a small nod, slowly.

"Another gun is aimed at your woman. It's up to you. Move and she is dead."

He let the silence spread for few seconds, as if he was startled and didn't know what to say. "I won't move," he finally said. "But if you want me to cooperate, stay away from her. I'll go with you, but only if she stays here, unharmed. Gun or no gun – and you know I ain't bluffing, Jonas."

"We don't need her. Sit here until two more cars leave. After that, we'll go into the darker part behind the house. Understood?"

"Yep." He nodded again.

The trousers took two steps to the left, and leant on the porch railing above him. Two pairs of legs. The second guy was probably Light Eyes; the third might be somewhere on the edge of the woods, keeping Florence in his sights. Nobody would pay any attention to the two cops taking a break in a garden already full of cops.

He checked on Florence. She was still talking with Amanda; Megan and Merlin had joined them and all four of them walked to the tactical vehicle. Florence turned and glanced at him and he smiled with a genuine smile; she felt his gaze on her. She waved. He waved back.

Tired or not, he was going to end this.

He relaxed his arms and emptied his mind. No time for recovery – but enough time to concentrate on his reserves of strength.

And also, enough time to catch and hold Sterling's stare, when the bastard turned again to check on him.

Florence didn't try to grift anybody, she just listened. Being a fly on the wall while Maddox, for the first time, talked with his snatched cops was priceless. Megan and Merlin weren't sure whether they should act heroic and proud, or cover their noses in shame, and Maddox clearly wasn't sure either. The only thing clear was his relief. That warmed her heart. The blurred line between good guys and bad guys here blurred just a little more for her, adding to her confusion.

The same SWAT team that had dragged a shot, chained and bound Eliot out from this very house was now taking away the Koreans and securing them all.

Everything around her sang happy ending – and she surely knew a happy ending when she saw one – yet she wasn't stupid.

She also knew keep her away and act like nothing was happening when she saw it. She saw Eliot doing exactly that far too many times before.

She talked with Amanda first, and when Merlin and Megan joined them she used their chat to be present only, listening only. No matter how hard she tried, she hadn't seen anything suspicious around them, nothing that should worry Eliot. He might expect Sterling to change his mind or act out – but in that case he wouldn't have waited. Even if he solely waited to see all the Koreans taken away, that wouldn't have put that amount of tension back into his muscles: Those very muscles that now practically pinged beads of sweat off their tensed ridges.

She checked on him and waved, he waved back, tralalala, and everything seemed fine. But he sat as if he was ready to shoot up at any second.

Maybe the two cops chatting only two stairs above him were the reason. Eliot Spencer didn't like having anybody lurking behind him, much less cops. It would trigger his unease. She looked closer; one of the cops had a plaster cast on his forearm; the white plaster going around his wrist and palm, visible under the sleeve. Okay, if those two were the ones he fought in the woods, and did that to them… that could be the cause for his feeling of discomfort.

She turned her back on him to glance one more time across the garden, and then it hit her.

He had said to Sterling that the cops he fought didn't have any broken bones. The only broken bones in those woods – and she had heard those awful sounds – were on the Koreans.

Oh, shit. A small inward meep froze in her throat.

She turned around, searching for Sterling.

Sterling stood only twenty feet away, alone, with the phone to his ear, engaged deep in conversation. She moved closer, casually, and took off her backpack, pretending to dig inside it which gave her a way to appear busy, and she could glance around from under her locks.

She was now only six feet from Sterling, and yet she didn't hear his voice.

She took out a bottle of whiskey, and checked to be sure. Sterling talked into that phone. And yet he didn't. His mouth moved and his hand accentuated, waving around, but no sound came out loud.

She put her things back into the backpack and looked over to Eliot. He was talking too.

With two Koreans stood behind him? Yes, but they couldn't see his face, couldn't know that he was deep in conversation, lip reading with Sterling; silent but obviously clear enough for both of them, according to Sterling's visibly annoyed hand.

Florence moved away.

She clutched the backpack and tried to put some order into her too fast, and too frantic thoughts. The Koreans were armed, or else Eliot wouldn't just sit there. They held him at gunpoint, but they needed him alive to deliver him and take the money. That meant they would force him to leave with them any moment now.

Sterling might not have enough time to arrange any reaction before that happened. Even if he had, she wasn't completely sure he would think of Eliot's safety first, only about collecting the Koreans himself.

Eliot rubbed his forehead and his head then bowed again. Sterling also lowered the phone he used to hide their talk, and started typing on it.

One more car left the crime scene.

Her heart raced. Merlin and Megan wandered aimlessly in front of her. If they went towards Eliot to talk…

"You two," she said. "Go to the tactical vehicle for a minute, will 'ya? I'll join you inside in a minute; I have to show you something there."

"Sure."

She waited until they climbed into the vehicle, then swallowed and took one long breath. There was one thing she could do, but before it, she had to erase everything from her face. She thought of Sophie and her natural, easy way of putting any expression upon her face. It didn't help. The smile she plastered across her face felt…plastic. She couldn't channel the seasoned grifter. She exhaled, and went directly to Eliot.

He could see through her smile, of course; the alarm in his eyes practically burned her when she stood in front of him.

"So, if you were to sit like a duck, and stare stupidly like a duck, and you have your arm injured like a broken wing, what does it make you, darling?" she chirped with a gentle smile, her eyes locked on his. She didn't glance at the two cops behind him. "I'll take care of my duckling as soon as we move from here."

"No hurry." His voice was strained, but he raised his eyebrows at her in silent question, warning, repellant, all at once.

"When you're ready. I'll be at the tactical vehicle; Amanda said she'll show me the jewel among all their stupid tracking devices: a coffee machine." She wrapped her arms around him and placed a loud smooch on his cheek. Her hand slid, shielded from the prying eyes behind him, and left her phone in his pocket.

Then she did the hardest thing she could imagine; she left him there and walked away. Feeling his burning eyes on her back softened her knees, but she didn't turn around, not even to glance again at Sterling. She opened the door to the tactical vehicle, climbed aboard and closed the door behind her.

Eliot knew he had two Koreans behind him – he had expected them. Stupid fuck. That was why he had sent her away. That way, they couldn't have used her against him. He would have been free to act.

The lump in her throat hurt like hell.

One day, she was going to kill him. Just not today. Please God, not today.

"Get up now, slowly, and walk in front of us around the house."

Eliot did what they told him, hoping they wouldn't ask themselves why he hadn't reacted immediately, now that Florence was safe inside the tactical vehicle. Guns that they aimed at him weren't a problem, especially held so close to him.

He told Sterling to stay put and let him deal with them, and only requested to ensure Florence was safe, so he could expect a clear battlefield. Before he made any moves of his own, he had to be sure that all three of them were here. And that there was only three of them, and there wasn't anyone else waiting in the background with a head full of info on Florence.

Afternoon shadows were becoming dark and nobody noticed them when they disappeared into the trees behind the house. He walked slowly and stumbled a few times intentionally. The scrape on his forehead served the same purpose as it had done when he had the SWAT team to deceive; it looked nasty, blood covering that side of his face. If it didn't itch him a little, he wouldn't even notice it – but it might help to deceive them a little.

They made a circle and climbed down towards the road and the waiting police car. The third Korean was inside it.

Now was the time to take them down, while the third was still inside the car. Their broken bones did even up the odds a little.

"Short ride," Jonas said.

That meant they had another stop. He needed to see what that was and most importantly, who else was there.

"Kneel down."

He would be suspicious if one of them had blindly obeyed without objection, had the tables been turned, so he stood, not moving, until one of them slammed him across the back with their gun. Only then did he sway and knelt down.

The barrel of the gun was cold when Jonas pressed it against his forehead. Light Eyes pulled his arms back – knowing exactly how to twist that damn shoulder he had dislocated, to hurt him the most – and tied them behind his back. Zip ties, two of them, gnawed at his skin. He could break one, if his hands were in front of him. Two, at the back – that was impossible.

They grabbed him then, and hurled him onto the back seat, and this time he didn't have to feign a grunt of pain. This was a Brattleboro police car, not State Police, and that meant plastic seats. A collision with the seat was hard, and this ride promised to be bouncy.

Light Eyes sat beside him, with the gun still in his hand. Jonas rode shotgun.

He couldn't move nor break his bonds, at least as far as they knew – and pointing the gun at him was overkill. They were too damn careful.

"So," he said when the car left the small road to their house and headed for the main road. "How short is this short ride?"

Jonas turned around and nodded to Light Eyes. The hand with the gun flashed towards him without warning, and white, cold pain surged through his head.

White flashes behind his eyes went through forty-two shades of grey until it sank into the blackest black he had ever seen. Definitely overkill, was his last thought before all the sounds around him ceased.

"Yes, Maddox, keep me informed." Sterling looked over his shoulder as one more police car left the garden. The captain was already in Brattleboro, organizing things from that side. "I will deal with this part, and will you just make sure that they're all accounted for."

When he looked back at the porch, Spencer and the two Koreans were gone.

They only collected their future award, they hadn't tried to set their comrades free, and they could have done so easily. He knew at least four ways for guys posing as cops to use all the commotion and drive off with cars containing prisoners. That was a major change in their tactics from 'working together' to 'everyman for himself'.

He wanted all of them arrested as much as Spencer wanted it, and now he didn't know where they were heading. Trusting Spencer that he would deal with them was one thing, and letting them slip from his hands was another. Questioning the arrested Koreans was futile – but he had one weak link to press.

He went to check on the car with Denise; he had talked with her only five minutes before, and she wasn't yet headed to Brattleboro. Two SWAT cops stood guard nearby. Sterling only looked inside for a second; he didn't have to check. She seemed like she was resting or meditating; her eyes were closed.

Her neck was broken.

And there went his first chance to find out where they were taking Spencer, and again, he had to trust that damn criminal to do his part of the job.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" A voice bellowed from the tactical vehicle. Florence jumped out. "You're not planning to go after him?"

"Get back into that vehicle, Florence. He was the one who said that he'd deal with them, not me."

"There are two of them at least." Her voice was gravely with fear. "Two of them at the same time, closed around him. With guns, Sterling. They were armed this time, they held him at gunpoint. He can't do it. I thought you were the last person to share his idiotic ideas."

"What I learned when dealing with the Leverage team is that they usually do exactly what they want to do."

"He wanted to move them away from me!" Her cry burst out; she took a step forward and bore her eyes into his. "I'm going after him."

"To do what, exactly? Beat them with a club? Babble them into submission? Don't be stupid-"

"I don't know – but I'll find out. At least I will know their next location. I won't let them slip away. We will never find him again if we let them take him too far."

Megan and Merlin came out of the tactical vehicle too. It only took one glance at them for him to sigh heavily.

"Florence, give me the gun."

She took a step back. Merlin groped his empty holster, spitting quiet curses.

Sterling outstretched his hand; she crossed her arms.

"You are a man of law," she whispered. "How can you leave someone in mortal danger without help?"

"The only men in mortal danger are those three poor souls, and we are all aware of that."

"Three?" She swallowed down her tears. She said nothing more, just continued to look at him.

Her eyes were huge on that pale face, and desperation crept into them with every second of his silence.

Merlin and Megan could take that gun from her, but he hesitated to give the order. Desperation or not, there was also a thoroughly pissed off anger behind those eyes; she would go after Spencer even without the gun.

Damn it all, she was as annoying as hell. But she was also truly adorable. Spencer really didn't deserve someone as special as this woman in his cursed life.

She was, also, half right. Spencer maybe was overconfident in this matter, and Sterling didn't want to lose the Koreans when he could possibly collect them all. More importantly, he was still in debt to Spencer for saving his life, more than once, and if getting him out of this trouble meant they were even, that would be one more positive thing.

The little bloodhound before him smelled his hesitation, and her eyes flashed with hope.

"I'm not saying we are going after him. We can't know where-"

But it was too late. "Thank you!" She jumped forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I'm liking you more than hating you right now, and trust me, that's something. Go now! Go, go!"

He stood stupefied, with his hand still outstretched.

She turned in a whirl and hurried to the vehicle. Merlin and Megan followed her with large grins plastered on their faces.

Ah, bloody hell… he chased away a short attack of annoying warmth, and put a scowl deliberately back up on his face. Irritation was the best way to fight her softening effects. "We can only drive aimlessly around, Florence!" Yet, he waved to the nearby agents, Chloe and Sherrel, to accompany them. "We don't know-"

"I put my phone into Eliot's pocket – the one you were tracking from the outset." She opened the door and hung on it from the first step, and her smile of hope mixed with fear blossomed across her face. "Amanda is tracking it as we speak. I've told her you gave an order. My bad."

And maybe she wasn't Spencer's undeserved price – maybe she was his punishment.

They threw him out of the car, and that brought him back round, especially when the searing pain shot through his shoulder. Eliot turned his head to the side and blinked to clear the fog before his eyes; a waste green sea spread before him. The grass under his face was thick and cut; they weren't on some meadow in the woods. This was a lawn.

A pair of heavy boots walked towards him, and one of them slammed into his shoulder, turning him onto his back. He arched his back to ease the pressure on his arms, and spat a curse. A blurry shadow hovered above him; Light Eyes grinned.

"You really hold grudges indefinitely, don't you?" Eliot panted the words; breathing was difficult in this position.

"Hold your breath; you're going to need it. We have a long journey ahead of us."

The fog cleared and now he could see a helicopter in the middle of a small heliport. Only two metal containers were by the circle on the grass. This was a small, probably private landing site. No other people around, only three Koreans. But he had to be sure.

"Don't tell me you know how to fly this thing? You'll need a pilot, you damn fool."

"We have one," Light Eyes pointed at Jonas who stood with the third Korean by the huge steel beast.

"We have a problem," Jonas said. "Come here and open this hatch."

Light Eyes slammed him again with another grin that promised more of it in the near future, and went to his friends.

Eliot shook his head and rolled onto his right side to watch the trio. They lowered their voices, and yet he could hear hurry in their quick words. He glanced around once more, than scrambled to his knees.

They paid no attention to him; their backs were turned to their helpless and tied up prey, and they argued about something that made clanging metal noises.

Those three were the last thing that stood in the way of Florence's safety – he didn't even have to think about his chances.

He pressed the silver-feather bracelet. Two blades darted out, and in two short moves of his wrists, the zip ties fell off.

He got up and stretched his shoulders.

Then he smiled.

All four of them stood lined up in the deep shadow of a huge tree, again with binoculars. Nate had checked two times if their van was completely invisible from the meadow they observed.

"Ouch," Hardison said. "I'm really feeling the need to warn them, poor bastards. They have no idea what- ouch, ouch, ouch." The hacker lowered his binoculars and squinted. "I don't have to watch that. Tell me when it's over." He moved a few steps back to the van and sat by the laptop placed on the floor near the open side doors.

Nate also moved his focus from the slaughter by the chopper, and observed the edges of the woods around the heliport, and both roads leading to it. There was still enough light to see everything normally – including every gruesome detail of that fight – and on the road from Brattleboro appeared a dark, huge vehicle.

Parker's evil giggle told him the fight was over. He only glanced once to see the shape Eliot was in: standing, only slightly swaying, and annoyed. A usual day at work.

Hardison stopped typing.

"And here we go. I had no experience with the Canadian police before, but damn if they ain't fast when there's children involved. Come and see this."

Sophie and Parker were still watching the heliport, so Nate could come closer to see a video feed. A reporter stood in front of a hotel, live recording. "After an anonymous tip about child molesting, Niagara Falls City Police have arrested a South Korean tourist, age 67, in his hotel room with two under aged girls. The suspect is being taken into custody, and his identification is being verified as we speak. The girls have been taken into-"

Hardison cut the video. "It took me almost seven minutes to find and arrange two under age prostitutes. Paying with his credit-card was a piece of cake after that. I directed the police onto their pimp, so all his girls will be pulled off the streets and taken care of. That's the good part. The bad part is…are you aware that we might be making an international incident with this, when they found out he is really a North Korean general?"

"We'll worry about it later. For now, let's just-"

Sophie's gasp of dismay cut Nate's words off. He ran back to her and Parker. "What the hell-"

"A t-shirt under a silk suit! That's outrageous! A red t-shirt, for crying out loud!"

Nate quickly looked down and adjusted the focus on his binoculars. "You meant to say: Nate, Sterling's arrived at the scene?"

"I just said that!"

"Right." He sighed and checked the number of agents who poured out of the dark vehicle. Four police cars followed in line. Florence was among the agents, free. She looked as if she nagged at Sterling, according to the pained expression on his face.

Nate put the binoculars down, and smirked. "Hardison, start packing."

For the best part of their short drive, Florence was glued to the front window; she sat between Sterling and Amanda, who was driving. The two women didn't stop talking for one second, and Sterling was as close to shooting them, as he would ever be.

"If those three don't kill him, I will! Are you aware why he has done this? Because he wanted to deal with all of them, so Maddox can put them in jail and I can return to my life! As if I didn't tell him that I can live without it all – no, not without – that I can live with a new name and identity!" Florence buried her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes.

Sterling took a deep breath instead of her; he needed oxygen at the end of her rambling.

"That's so romantic," Amanda said right in the moment when he thought that was it, and Florence would stay silent for the rest of their drive.

"It's not romantic. Damn breakfast in bed is romantic! This is simply stubborn and wrong! He is risking everything for something I gave up on, just because he thinks that's the way it should be."

Now Sterling rubbed his eyes. Passing out seemed inevitable at this point, but he was so spent he didn't really care. It would surely spare him from the rest of her nagging spree.

When a thought that his agents were capable to finish this themselves took a root, he forced himself to stir back to the present.

And right on time. The four police cars that followed them wailed their sirens when all of them saw the heliport. Amanda sped up when the clearance opened out in front of them, and three last curves on the road tossed them all around. He barely kept himself upright on his seat; an effort almost unbearable when she stopped with screeching tires right in front of the helicopter.

Florence opened the door and jumped out; she had given the gun to Merlin when they started, so he let her do it. Three agents followed. With two cops, no matter how young and inexperienced, they had enough fire-power to deal with three Koreans, even without those cops behind them.

He followed them, blinking away the dark dots dancing in front of his eyes.

One black dot formed into a man standing above several other black dots, these ones laying on the green field.

Maybe getting out of the vehicle was a mistake. He passed by agents who were all over the three Koreans – tied up and unconscious – and went to the chopper, the only thing on which he could lean without showing everybody that he couldn't stand without support.

Florence and Spencer stood a few steps aside; all her threats melted into soft whispers. Good thing there weren't any more Koreans, because even Spencer seemed to be lost for the world.

And for the second time in only half an hour, a mess of police, agents and Koreans swirled around Sterling. He clutched the chopper so his shaky legs would hold him for just a little longer, and tried to endure.

All Florence's angry threats ended with one relieved ungh when she buried her face in his shirt and held him tight, so Eliot decided to say nothing.

They moved out of the way so the cops could process the crime scene, and he just darted a grateful smile to Amanda who directed the others away from the two of them. This wasn't the best situation for your average statement taking.

Two ambulances arrived, adding to the throng of people and various vehicles.

The keys of the police car he was in were tucked safely in his pocket.

"Hey!" he said to Kindra who hurried past them. "I'll return this car to Maddox, if you don't need me here."

"Yeah, sure." She waved.

"Finally," Florence whispered. "Now, please? And don't stop driving until we have a hundred miles between us and Vermont."

"And Sterling," he added. The bastard was overseeing everything, and he didn't really need another twist in this plot of his. But Florence, much to his surprise, followed his glance and withdrew from his hug. She went to Sterling and he quickly followed her.

Only when he came close to him could he see that Sterling wasn't capable of prolonging this. The man could barely keep his eyes open, with an ashen face and gritted teeth. He maybe wanted this to end more than they did.

Florence also took in his state, because she frowned with sincere worry. "You should jump into one of those ambulances, Sterling," she said.

"That's the plan," Sterling said, then looked at him. "Kindra checked the hospital. The last two, those with broken legs, are still there, and they will be transferred to the hospital jail. We have all of them."

He nodded.

"Goodbye, James," Florence said. Then she smiled and raised her hand, and much to his surprise, licked her index finger.

She rubbed the finger between Sterling's eyes as if wiping away the stain. "Clean. You're free," she said. "Until the next time."

And they shared a silent grin. Sterling's was wolfish, but it was a grin nevertheless.

Eliot looked at them in turns; no one cared to explain this. "What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing," she grinned back at him. Her eyes were laughing until she returned them to Sterling. "Eliot…"

Sterling swayed a little, resting his back against the chopper. Something behind him fell with a quiet clang, and a metal plate fell off revealing the bundle of cut off cables and wires in all colors.

They all looked closer, and Sterling's eyes sharpened in an instant. Eliot suppressed a curse; each of them came to the same conclusion immediately.

"I presume you'll tell me you did this?" the agent asked him.

"Yeah, just in case. No point in letting them fly away if something went wrong."

"No point in doing that after you'd taken them down – and impossible to do it before you did that." Sterling looked away from him as he spoke and raised his eyes to the hills around them.

Eliot forced himself not to do the same.

Helicopters rarely vomited up their own guts without help.

Sterling's eyes again had that predatory glow, in spite of his weakness. A hunter on a trail; Eliot could hear the wheels turning in the agent's head. Everybody around them was busy, nobody looked at their direction, but that could change at any second.

"I'm willing to say we're even now," Eliot said. "But Florence was right – you should go and get in that ambulance."

"In a minute," Sterling said.

Florence did notice the change in Sterling's posture, but she searched his eyes for a clue. He took her by the hand and a few steps aside.

"Don't hate me – but Sterling is going with us." He lowered his voice.

"What?" she choked on a question. "Eliot, what part of a hundred miles between us and Vermont and Sterling did you not understand? Why?"

"Because Nate and the team are probably here. Someone made sure that chopper couldn't fly anywhere. Sterling is starting to think, and it's better to prevent that shit than to deal with his actions. We have three, almost four days before I go to Washington, and I don't want him on their tail now when they are close by. Nor do I want him close to us. Not now, nor ever again."

"And taking him with us will help in not having him close? You need a CT scan."

"Trust me." This time, he realized with a relief, he could say those words without flinching. And that, if anything, meant the world to him. "Now go to Amanda and do something constructive – the agents know I'm not an Interpol agent and that he only left me off the hook. They'll set off every alarm to everybody if I simply snatch him, so… When we leave, there shouldn't be any chase after us. Make it happen."

"I can't do that!" A real panic flashed in her eyes, but he kept his broad, reassuring smile up. "You know, for a grifter, you grift too damn little! I'm doing all the work here!"

"What would Buck do, writer?"

"He would… he is a man, I can't… wait a minute…" She lowered her nose a little and frowned. He waited. Sterling in his peripheral vision was reaching for his phone.

"Okay," she finally whispered. She turned on her heel and marched toward Amanda who was busy talking with the cops.

Eliot went to Sterling, and the agent's hand with the phone returned into his pocket.

"You've never told me why you were searching for Nate," he said directly.

"And I never will. Leverage team has many uses. Especially a hitterless Leverage team. Spencer, if I were you, I would take Florence and leave while you still can. That means now."

"You're right." He smiled at him and outstretched his hand. Sterling looked at his hand as if expecting a snake on his palm, but accepted a handshake.

He glanced at Amanda and Florence - still holding Sterling's hand – and they both looked at them in the best possible moment, witnessing the mushy moment. Amanda nodded and smiled; he smiled back.

"Sterling wants to come with us and talk with Maddox," he heard Florence's voice lowered to a confidential whisper. "I don't think that's a good idea; you see how bad he looks. Do you think you can put some sense into your boss and keep him here?" Sterling heard it too, and alarm flashed in his eyes. No time for any reaction; Eliot lowered his hand and took a step closer, twisting his wrist and immobilizing him.

"I don't think so," Amanda said. "If he wants to go with you, no one will stop him. Just make sure that that visit ends in Brattleboro hospital, will you?"

"Don't worry; we'll take care of him. No – I will take care of him. Men are reckless, and not to mention heroic fools."

"Tell me about it."

Florence waved to the agent; when she turned again to the two of them – both standing close, almost in a friendly hug – her eyes glazed with panicky questions.

Eliot wrapped his arm around Sterling's back, resting his hand over the hole in his shoulder. He didn't even have to touch it – nor he would do that – but Sterling knew, precisely, which move was allowed, and which wasn't. He only breathed.

"Smile, James," he said. "After all, you won this game. You're allowed to gloat."

Florence joined them, and he threw the car keys to her. The car was only sixty feet from them; they had to pass between two ambulances to reach it. She led the way, and the two of them walked slowly after her. Eliot directed Sterling's steps, hovering with care over the wounded man. He waved to the cops to clear the way for the victorious agent in charge, and returned several smiles.

"What the hell you think you're doing, Spencer?" Sterling said through his frozen smile. His silent rage radiated in hot waves around him. Eliot tightened his grip.

"All this time we all knew you couldn't be trusted," Eliot said when they reached the car, and Florence opened a door for them. He helped him sit on the back seat and took his gun. "But we all forgot one thing – the Leverage team can't be trusted, either. We are criminals after all."

He closed the door behind him and Florence, took a wheel, and drove off the heliport.

"And what now?" Sophie asked while they followed the lonely car down the road, before it disappeared from their sight.

Nate gave his binoculars to Hardison, and went to the van. "Now we go home."

"And that's it?" Parker sounded as if she couldn't believe his words. "We flew all this way from Portland, only to pull a handful of cables out? Where's the fun in this?"

"I wouldn't say we were here for fun, but she is partially right," Hardison added. He collected all their binoculars and put them into the bag, while they boarded the van. "Sterling is still there with the two of them. We won't do anything about it?"

"Nope, we won't. The Koreans are taken care off, the general is in custody, and they left freely, leaving the cops and agents behind them. They are not in immediate, maybe in any danger anymore." Nate started the van. "Unless you think we should save Sterling from Eliot and Florence. Is that what you're saying?"

"Almost." Sophie smiled. "But I wish I could be a fly on that wall. I can bet the next several hours will be interesting for Sterling."

"There are no walls in the car."

"All right then, a fly on the windshield, Parker."

"Flies on the windshield are smudged all over it. They are dead. And dead flies can't hear anything."

"Nice, Parker." Sophie sighed. "So, Logan airport, Nate?"

"Yeah. We'll be home before midnight."

"Maybe you two," Hardison said. "Your part of the Washington job is in the Portland area. Parker and I will go directly to Washington. I can work on Castelman Security vault from there. We'll prepare groundwork for Eliot's arrival in Sunday."

Nate watched Parker in rear-view mirror; Parker with her diabolic grin. "Only if you can guarantee me that you won't be visiting the National Museum of Natural History," he said. Parker's grin faded.

"Why should we…oh." Hardison nodded at him. "Right. No museums."

Both him and Sophie watched Parker – the thief also nodded, but she lowered her stare down and to the left with the expression of complete innocence. Something to study and worry about all the way back to Boston.

Nate darted a last glance at the heliport to make sure no cars went after Eliot and Florence, and drove away.