Chapter 24

"Hardison?"

As per usual the team sat around the large display of screens that sat in their HQ, waiting for the hacker to talk. Of course, there were a few changes made in recent months, (the fancy light-up desk had been removed, and replaced with a three-piece suit with a recliner function for ease of use) but everything else remained the same.

"Ok, our mark is this guy right here."

A guy dressed in a very sharp, pin-striped suit popped up on the screens as well as news articles detailing his many accomplishments over the past five years. With both a shark-like smile and gelled-back hair, he looked like the type of guy you dreaded having to serve whilst selling coffee at your crappy Saturday job, but still had to because your manager didn't want to deal with his bull again.

If you don't like the service here, why do you keep coming back? There's a Starbucks down the street, go ruin their morning for a change.

God, just seeing the guy with his matching tie and pocket square, gave the hacker flashbacks from his two weeks spent working in customer service.

Oh, the horror!

"According to our client, ever since he took over the company, a large number of staff have been let go unfairly to make way for his friends." With just a click a wall of pictures showed itself, displaying a large range of people. Some young, some old, some male, some female, but all in the same boat. "People like Mrs Renshaw are losing their health insurance and in some cases, even their pensions just because Johnny over here wants to do his mates a favor. It's not right."

"No, it's not, Hardison. That's why we're going to fix it."

"Other than the dodgy hiring practices, is he doing anything else wrong? You know, dipping from company funds, using the business to hide some side dealings," Sophie asked. She knew that firing without just cause, although wrong, was very hard to prove and oftentimes, didn't serve the wronged party must justice. It would be much more prudent to go after the mark in another way.

"I don't know, Mrs Renshaw had some suspicions, but she got let go before she could dig into it. The way he got the company was a bit weird though."

"How do you mean?"

Nate sighed, combing his fingers through his thick mess of hair. (And how does Eliot manage to keep his curls so tidy all the time? Conditioner?)

"The previous owners hadn't shown any signs of selling before they did. And their son didn't look so happy with the move when it was announced. But we don't have any solid evidence that anything underhand went on."

"So, what's the play here, Nate?" Eliot questioned from the corner, his bad leg resting comfortably in its reclined position.

"Well, we need some inside information before we can even think about making a plan. Eliot, you'll go in first as an employee and see what you can find out."

"Can do. How do you want me? Assuming I'll be doing office work all day, I can probably manage on my crutches just fine." He was getting a lot better on them, learning that regular breaks meant he could go a lot longer before the pain won out.

"No, use your chair. I don't want to risk it if we need to make a hasty exit at some point. Besides, it may come in use."

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Eliot rolled into the building's lobby, feeling very uncomfortable and fidgety in the suit he'd borrowed from Nate.

With his tie pulled way too tight and shirt sleeves that gathered at his wrists, he didn't look at all like the professional he was meant to be, more like a kid wearing his daddy's best suit for his first-ever date at the local dance.

"I look like an idiot in this." The hitter grumbled. "The jacket's too tight on m' shoulders and these pants are way too long. I would have done better finding some guy off the street and stealing his clothes." He should know, he'd done it before.

"I'm sorry, El. We didn't realize that none of your suits fit you now." A slightly guilty-sounding mastermind voiced down the coms. "Soph promises that she'll go shopping with you tomorrow so you'll have something better to wear to work."

"That's assuming I get the job. Ain't that the reason we're here because he keeps hiring his mates over real candidates? How am I s'possed to land this Nate?"

"Don't worry about it?"

"Don't worry... Damnit, Hardison. Our whole con rests on me right now, and I don't see how I'm goin' to pull this off."

"It's ok, I got you." He was using that smug, 'I'm a genius who knows something you don't' voice that pissed everyone (and their nanas) off. He would be wise to remember that Eliot could still pack quite a mean punch with his left hand, (just sayin'). "This morning the HR department got in touch, informing Mr Russel that his recent hiring is in violation of certain equality acts. Basically, he needs to pick someone that classes as a minority or his company will go under investigation. So, being both disabled, and according to your application, half Native American, you fit the bill. Everyone else that's being interviewed today are white, male, and completely able, you have no competition."

The hitter rolled his eyes for a moment before straightening up again when he reached the receptionist.

After giving his name to the sweet young lady manning the desk, he soon found himself on the top floor waiting with exactly what Hardison said, a bunch of white guys in tailored suits talking about which golf clubs had the best memberships.

God, I hate these places.

"Mr Jennings." A tall woman with flaming red hair and a matching dress walked into the room, calling out the hitter's alias as she strolled on up to him. "If you'd like to follow me, sir."

"Now remember Eliot, we need this guy to trust you if you're going to find out any company secrets. So, try to come off relaxed, he doesn't like people that are all business in his inner circle." Nate reminded him for the fourth time that morning.

Then the grifter tagged on with, "he also likes guys that act as a beta to his alpha, so let him lead but stay attentive. He wants people that hang off his every word, boosting his already huge ego..."

She continued to give helpful little tips until the hitter coughed as a signal that he'd entered the marks office.

"Mr Jennings, it's nice to meet you." He didn't bother to greet his guest, just continued to read the files stacked in front of him. Pretending as if he hadn't already chosen who he was going to be hiring before these interviews even started.

"And I you, sir. I'm so glad to be here, I admire your work and would love to have the opportunity to work for you."

The mark smiled at that, before fixing his mask of indifference.

"Good Job, El."

"I can see by your resume, that you have quite a lot of experience in this field, but you haven't tried to advance at all into a managerial role. Why is that?"

"I don't really see myself as a leader, to be honest, sir. I prefer to let others take charge whilst I just keep my head down and get on with the work. Especially since the accident, I just want to get on with my life and enjoy it the best I can. I leave the enterprising to guys like you."

"I see..." And there was that grin again.

"Congrats El, you just grifted yourself into an honest job"

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At about two pm on a cool Sunday afternoon, Nate found Eliot lying on the sofa doing his strengthening exercises. He could tell by the redness in his cheeks and slight tremors, that the hitter was almost done so he decided to wait before talking.

About a minute (and one heat pad) later Nate joined the younger man now relaxing on the couch.

"Two weeks into office work, how's it going?"

"It's fine."

So, "just fine?" the mastermind asked, making sure to sound casual and not probing as he tended to be recently.

The hitter sighed. "We need to tell Hardison to stop givin' me aliases that are paralyzed from the waist down. Not being able to move your legs for hours is extremely difficult, especially when you suffer from muscle spasms."

"I'll make a note of it." Nate chuckled, whilst indeed making a small note in his journal for future cons. "But everything else is going ok?"

"Yeah, it's a bit boring sittin' in an office all day, but you get used to it. And Jenny from the office next to me is nice, always offering to get me coffee so I don't have to wheel all the way down to the machine."

"Good, good. Found anything we can use for our con?"

"Possibly..."

Well, that perked the mastermind up, he was starting to lose hope on this whole thing. Thinking up new ways that maybe Sophie could get in with the mark. He eagerly signaled for the hitter to continue.

"I've been invited to this casino night with the mark and some of his friends. I'm hoping that they might get drunk enough and let slip some secrets."

"Good idea, just make sure you don't drink anything yourself, even if they're pressuring you to. We don't know how you'll react with the pills you're on, plus the doc said that alcohol could make the neuropathy worse."

Eliot rolled his eyes at the over-protection but answered with a fond "yes dad."

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Casino night wasn't what the Hitter had expected. He thought it was just a few dudes meeting up at one of their condos, drinking some scotch, and winning money off of each other. But no, when he turned up at the address they'd given him, it turned out to be a legit venue with a VIP section and everything.

'No wonder I was told to dress smart.' The hitter thought to himself.

"... and that's when I pulled his own lawyer out - who I'd paid off – to tell him how screwed he was. HA! The idiot didn't even see it coming until after I owned his entire company."

"You hearing this, Nate?"

"Loud and clear. At least we now know why the previous owners sold out so suddenly, they didn't have a choice." Nate responded from inside Lucile who was parked just a few streets away. "I'll get Hardison to check out the lawyer to see if he can locate the bribe money."

"Ok, and I'll keep listening to see if anything else comes up."

Surprisingly, it didn't take long for the conversation to turn right to where Eliot wanted it to.

"... I'm telling you, those warehouses that the company uses for storage are the perfect place for our side business. That Armani-wearing douchebag is going to love it or I'll shove it up his cake hole." The mark was very drunk by now, (you know, slurred speech, grab-ass behavior, the works) and didn't seem all that bothered about who was hearing him.

"Armani-wearing douchebag?" Nate questioned.

"No idea. Business partner... Mob maybe?"

"He's coming here tonight so I can tell him the good news."

That last statement sent a shiver down the mastermind's spine.

"Eliot, get out of there. Now!" Nate ordered, already moving himself into the driver's seat so he could swing around a pick the hitter up.

"What? But..."

"No, El we don't have any info on this guy, not even a name. We could have met him before on a con or he may recognize you from your retrieval days. I don't want to risk it while you're in there alone. Just make your excuses and leave."

Eliot agreed and started to make his exit.

"Sorry guys, but my back is beginning to act up so I should probably get home before it completely goes on me."

"No worries, man. See you on Monday." A few of the guys waved him off with a friendly pat on the shoulder. The boss didn't take notice, however, too absorbed in his own 'hilarious' anecdotes.

Eliot had just turned himself around and was making his way toward the exit when a large man in a very fine-looking suit bumped into him.

"I'm sorry." The strongly accented voice apologized, as he crouched down to Eliot's level. Checking to make sure that the hitter wasn't injured, he felt down his arms and helped to get his bad leg back onto the footrest. He seemed generally appalled that he'd walked into this stranger, continuing to take the blame. "I am so very sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. I'll be more careful in the... YOU!"

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