Title: Old Friends, New Enemies 4/?
Rating: PG-13 for violence and swearing
Disclaimer: I do not profit from this fic in any way, unless pure enjoyment is a measurable expense now. I do not own Leverage or the team, though they are nifty!
Setting: Season 1, any time before the First David Job.
Summary: A simple job becomes complicated when an old mark recognizes one of the team at a party and decides to settle an old score.
It was hard for Eliot to resist the urge to try to break free as he was being forced into the car but he knew that it wouldn't do any good in his current state and with the number of men around watching him. The hardest part would be waiting for the opportune moment to strike and make his escape. Looking back at the cabin to see his teammates standing anxiously in the doorway, watching him being led away, he also knew he had to put some distance between himself and the others before he tried anything. He only hoped Sophie had gotten the message and they were going to pack up and run as soon as these cars drove out of here.
Being careful to duck his head as he was pushed into the car Eliot felt his broken ribs and assortment of bruises protest greatly as he fell into his seat. Gritting his teeth to keep from groaning he looked up to see the opposite side door opening. Marcus limped towards the door and then dropped down heavily next to the hitter, still favoring his twisted ankle as the car pulled away. He could just see Power getting into the more luxurious car ahead of them.
"This is going to be fun. I've got just the room for you. Hope you don't mind rats," Marcus sneered as he took out a pack of cigarettes and started to light one up.
"No, it'll remind me of being in this car, it'll be great," Eliot answered dryly.
Eyes narrowed, the big man replied lowly to the insult, "Maybe after we drop you off I'll just come back here, grab that pretty blonde friend of yours and bring her back to keep me company."
Though Eliot's protective instincts told him to throttle the man, his broken body and restrained hands wouldn't allow it so he forced himself to smile as he said, "You can go ahead and try. She'd kick your ass to Burma and back again. She hits harder than you anyway."
Eliot wasn't surprised when Marcus's fist suddenly connected with his jaw, throwing his head to the side where it collided painfully with the car door window. While Eliot hissed in pain the big man lounged further into his seat and puffed on his cigarette.
Pushing himself carefully into a straighter sitting position Eliot glared when Marcus blew smoke directly into his face.
"You know those things will kill ya," Eliot warned. "Not before I do, but still."
"You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" Marcus remarked with a shake of his head, then a twisted smirk. "But you're right, I really should quit."
That said, Marcus reached out to grab Eliot's restrained arm and pushed the hitter up against the car door while he ruthlessly stubbed his cigarette out on Eliot's neck. Eliot grunted as the sensitive flesh sizzled but instead of trying to pull away he moved in closer to his attacker and headbutted him as hard as possible. The awkward angle and his injuries weakened the blow but it was still more than enough to send Marcus back in his seat clutching his forehead.
As the cigarette dropped Eliot gasped. The burn was painful and would continue to hurt until it healed but he had a feeling he wasn't done collecting injuries for the day just yet after what he had done.
Sure enough Marcus was pushing himself back up again.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered angrily and then delivered another punch to Eliot's face, this one straight to the temple. As Eliot's head snapped back his body decided it had taken all the abuse it could handle and he fell to the side unconscious.
Seeing this Marcus grinned as he shook his bruised knuckles.
"Geez Marcus, you can't handle one guy after all that?" another of the hired muscle asked from the front passenger's seat.
"Shut up," Marcus demanded, embarrassed. "I took care of him. He's out."
"Yeah," the driver chuckled. "After he almost took care of you, while handcuffed."
Marcus flinched with anger but had no reply. Turning to look out the window he seethed and wished Eliot wasn't unconscious so he could take out some more frustration on their 'guest'. He turned to look at the hitter who was leaned against the door, eyes closed and blood dripping down his face from several sources. He wasn't faking it, Marcus knew that much, the guy was too cocky to do that so he would just have to wait for him to wake up again and then he could have a little more fun. He checked his pocket – he was going to need another pack of cigarettes.
"Dammit!"
Nate's yell was punctuated by him kicking over a chair, making the rest of the team flinch as he ran his hands through his hair.
They had all heard the sounds of Eliot being beaten more in the car, probably burned as well, and now they knew their teammate was unconscious and completely unable to help them form a rescue plan. Nate's frustration and concern was shared by all of them, but only their leader took the team's safety as his own responsibility.
"What now?" Parker asked quietly after a moment of silence.
Calming his rapid breathing Nate replied, "Hardison, keep tracking Eliot and record everything coming through his earpiece. Sophie, tell us about this guy."
Put on the spot Sophie leaned back against the couch, crossing her arms defensively as she started her story.
"I met Timothy twelve years ago in Munich. I was running the lost heir scam, playing myself off as a princess of … Estonia maybe. I was young and greedy and Timothy was enamored and wealthy. We spent a few days together in Munich but he lived in Nepal. I mentioned I had never been and he invited me to stay with him. For a powerful man, he was careless. He gave me free reign of his home, though he had me accompany him most places he went it wasn't to watch me, I think it was because he really just wanted me around. Then one weekend he had business in Berlin. I knew my time was up so I faked sick and stayed at his house with a few staff and almost no security."
"He came back and you were gone?" Nate guessed.
Sophie nodded matter-of-factly, not proud but not ashamed of her past either, "Me and about twelve million dollars worth of art. Funny thing was, he never reported me to the police. I could never figure out if it was because he was embarrassed that he had been taken in by a woman or because …"
"He cared about you?"
She nodded.
"Well, it could have been both," Nate suggested, then quoted her earlier words. "After all, you 'make men fall in love with you for a living', it's not ridiculous to believe some of it sticks."
"Does he really want this sword thing or was he just using it as an excuse for all this?" Hardison asked.
"Oh, he wants it, I have no doubt," Sophie replied emphatically. "He has a very impressive collection of rare and antique weapons, Napolean's sword would just be the crowning piece."
"Good," Nate mumbled. "We can use that."
"Why did he take Eliot if he's angry at you?" Parker asked, it wasn't an accusation, they all had people that were after them, she just couldn't understand the reasoning.
Sophie bit her lip, reluctant to respond but finally answered, "Timothy was always a jealous, possessive man. Even if he doesn't want me back I would imagine he still considers me to be his."
"And last night he misread your little show with Eliot and thinks Eliot's your lover and got jealous," Nate finished.
"I think so," Sophie admitted softly. "That or he's just trying to hurt me by taking away someone he thinks I'm involved with."
"That's not gonna be good for Eliot," Parker muttered, eyes wide at the revelation.
"That ain't gonna be good for anything," Hardison commented stiffly, just before his attention was drawn back to his computer screen. "Oh hey, I think they're stopping."
Seeing Eliot's tracking signal stop moving Hardison hit some keys to open up the com line again.
"All right," they heard Timothy's voice order. "Put our guest in the basement, nowhere too comfortable."
"Yes Mr. Power," a second voice replied, followed by the sounds of rustling and movement.
"Where are they?" Nate asked. Hardison brought up a map on his screen.
"Right there."
Sophie squinted as she studied the map, wide-eyed, "Hardison, can you show me an actual picture of the house?"
"Uh, I think so," Hardison replied. It took a few seconds for the hacker to get an exact address and then look up a decent satellite image of the area which he made full screen. "It's right there."
"It's the same house," Sophie announced with hopeful amazement. "It's the same house he lived in twelve years ago."
"You remember your way around?" Nate asked.
"Yes, I think so," Sophie replied confidently having studied the place extensively while she stayed there.
"Okay, that's good," Nate announced, perking up and getting to business. Blueprints of a house were fine, but actually knowing for sure what each room was, was even better. "So we're going to move fast before anything else happens to Eliot. Sophie, stay here and listen to the com channel, let us know if Eliot wakes up. Meanwhile write down everything you remember about that house, every stair, window and decoration. Write it down, draw pictures – all of it."
"All right," Sophie agreed, sitting eagerly to begin working.
"Hardison, Parker, we have to figure out how to break into Richmond's safe, tonight and without Eliot. Without that sword we don't have any leverage on this guy," Nate explained as he left the room to receive the blueprints of Richmond's home.
Hardison and Parker followed him closely with the blond thief calling out, "Are … are we still gonna blow stuff up? I think Eliot would have wanted that – it was his idea."
Taking a deep breath Sophie sat down to study the satellite image Hardison had brought up of Timothy's home. Looking at it brought back a lot of memories of the huge mansion and she started typing furiously, fearful of forgetting even the tiniest detail that came to her.
As she continued to listen to Eliot's com line she remembered Timothy's words – "put our guest in the basement" – and even now she could hear the footsteps of the men dragging Eliot echoing as if underground. She frowned and tried to think harder. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead but nothing was forthcoming. She was fairly certain she had never bothered to go down to the basement – it was cold and dank – and she remembered absolutely nothing about it. In short, she had no idea where Eliot was being held.
Eliot woke up with a painful gasp in the dark and immediately found that he couldn't breathe. He was lying on his stomach in a cold, stone room with paralyzing spasms of pain arcing across his chest as his broken ribs grinded against each other and into his lungs. He could only guess that he had been dropped in this room on his side and when he tipped over onto his stomach in unconsciousness the pain had woken him up. His hands were tied behind him but with a quick push of his feet he was able to roll himself back on his side, taking pressure off one of his lungs for the most part and allowing him to gasp in great lungfuls of air. As he did this he looked around his surroundings but there was nothing to see. The room was pitch black except for the smallest sliver of light creeping out from what he assumed was the door several feet away.
"Shit," he muttered in reference to the pain still shooting through him from several sources.
"Eliot," a female voice said suddenly, directly in his ear. "Don't talk, just grunt if you can hear me."
"Wha…?" Eliot blinked in confusion for a moment but then whispered back, "It's all right Sophie, I'm alone. I can talk."
"Are you all right?" she asked with a sigh of relief.
"I'm fine," he replied automatically as he squinted into the darkness, hoping his eyes would adjust and it wasn't actually as dark as it seemed. He didn't try to move yet, he just breathed to prepare himself for the inevitable pain of getting up.
"We heard what happened … in the car," Sophie told him reluctantly a moment later. He could tell that wherever she was her eyes were shifting awkwardly.
"It was nothing," he assured her with a grunt as he slowly moved into a sitting position, ribs protesting every movement but at least the shock of the taser had worn off. "Guy was being an asshole so I headbutted him. He knocked me out with a sucker punch."
He didn't feel the need to mention the cigarette burn which even now throbbed painfully against his jugular.
The grifter paused while she tried to think of how to respond to that and Eliot took the opportunity to reiterate his earlier point, "And I hope you meant to say "while we were packing and getting our asses out of here, we happened to hear what happened in the car.""
She laughed sadly, "We're not leaving Eliot."
"Dammit Sophie, you can't read lips," Eliot accused.
"I got your message just fine," she said stubbornly. "But we aren't leaving you."
He could hear her walking as she spoke and she must have gotten the others because she announced, "He's awake."
Suddenly three new voices piped into the conversation.
"Eliot?"
"You okay, man?"
"Did you get out yet?"
"He's only been conscious for two minutes Parker," Sophie explained.
"No excuse," Parker replied. No one was sure if she was joking or not.
Meanwhile, Eliot growled in frustration, "What are you all, stupid? Our covers are blown and this guy threatened to call the cops, the Nepalese cops – trust me, you do not want to meet them. Now get the hell out of here!"
"Sorry Eliot, we can't do that," Nate said. "We're getting you out of there whether you like it or not."
"I don't need your help, I can get out just fine on my own," Eliot responded firmly, working hard to keep the sounds of pain out of his voice to back up his point.
"Oh, like in Croatia? How long were you in that jail Eliot? Two months? Three?" Nate pointed out. "I have no doubt you could get out on your own but we don't have that kind of time. We're coming to get you."
"And you're not gonna change our minds, so don't bother trying – we are firmly dedicated," Hardison backed him up. "So you can help us come up with a plan or you can just sit there and we'll let you know when we're on our way, wherever you are."
"It's not a big deal really. This guy stole you, we're just stealing you back," Parker explained simply.
"None of us are leaving Eliot," Sophie added. "You'll just have to accept that."
There was a long silence while Eliot considered this. He growled and shook his head.
"You guys are all idiots," he said with a sigh of resignation that the team took as an agreement to help them.
"You too," Parker piped in with a smile.
"What can you tell us about where you are?" Nate asked getting straight to business.
Eliot looked around morosely, "Not too much. I'm underground but it's pitch black. I'll walk the walls in a minute, get a size estimate. I'm pretty sure it's just the one door but I'll check that too."
"Do you have the lockpick?" Parker asked next.
Gritting his teeth Eliot shifted and reached his fingers into the back pocket of his jeans where he had stored the piece of metal. It didn't take long to realize there was nothing there though.
"Shit, no. They must have searched me while I was unconscious," Eliot reported.
"Anything else we should know?" Nate finished up.
"Nah, nothing I can think of," Eliot replied.
"Okay then, here's the situation – the house you're in, it's too well guarded, even for us and we have no way in, yet. So we're going to rob Richmond's vault tonight and get the sword for a bargaining chip. Unfortunately that means we'll have to wait until tomorrow to get you out," Nate told him apologetically.
"But we'll work as fast as we can," Hardison promised.
Eliot chuckled, "Guys, this place is roomy and well-furnished compared to some of the places I've been in, I'll be fine. Don't go rushing the job for my sake, you gotta do it right or something's gonna go wrong."
"I'd say something already went wrong," Hardison mumbled.
"Don't worry about us Eliot, we'll get it done. Just take care of yourself," Sophie requested unable to help feeling guilty and responsible.
"All right, we've only got a few hours until dark so we've gotta get ready," Nate explained. "Eliot, let us know if you hear, see or remember anything about when they brought you in. Parker, Hardison and I have to get ready, Sophie, stay on the com and keep him company."
"I don't need a babysitter," Eliot grumbled automatically when in truth he was clinging on to the voices of his teammates as a distraction from the dark hole of agony he found himself in.
Sitting back down at the table Sophie smiled sadly, "You don't have a babysitter, you have a friend."
"Fine," Eliot said reluctantly but Sophie could detect the hint of gratitude.
Nate, Hardison and Parker were turning off their coms to finish the plan to rob Richmond's vault so said their good-byes and then they were gone into the other room again.
"You're not part of the break-in now?" Eliot asked when it was just him and Sophie.
"I'm distracting the guards – there's not much to go over. The others have to be extremely careful about the technical parts now though since you're not there to take out the extra security," Sophie explained.
Eliot was now focusing on pushing himself into a standing position but huffed at her words, "I do hate to miss a party."
He was tempted to remind her that Parker has to stay away from the back stairwell, but he told himself that Nate knew what he was doing and would get the thief in and out safely.
As Eliot started to slowly walk forward, grunting with one shoulder always in contact with the wall, he heard Sophie struggling to start her next thought.
"Eliot … I … I'm so …"
"Sophie, don't. We all got people after us. Look what happened at the Mosconi Job – damn Butcher showed up, no one blamed me for that," he pointed out.
She shook her head, "Yes, but he didn't try to hurt anyone but you."
In the dark he could feel that he had reached a corner and then continued walking, now counting his steps, "Still, it ain't your fault."
"Well, actually it is, but thank you for saying that," Sophie replied. "If … if Timothy comes back though, please Eliot just don't antagonize him. He's a possessive, jealous, ruthless man who doesn't take well to disrespect. So … so just stay in one piece until we get there, all right?"
Eliot was so taken aback by the pure concern in her voice he stopped walking. Sure they were a team, some would say a family, but the strengths of the bonds they had formed between them all had never been tested like this before and it was remarkable how firmly they were holding. It amazed Eliot just how worried he was about the team's safety and they were in turn equally stunned by how scared they were about not getting the hitter back alive. It was against every instinct Eliot had to just sit back and wait for rescue. There had never been help coming before, not once in all the situations he had gotten himself into. He depended only on himself to escape and now the team was asking him to depend on them. Sophie must have known it was going to be hard for him to just wait and not fight back and that's why she was asking this of him.
After a few moments he shook his head and started walking again.
"I'll try."
Before she could say anything else he had reached the end of the next wall, "Write this down for me, will ya?"
"Um, okay," Sophie said, not sure what she would be writing.
"The room's about ten feet by six. No furniture, walls are stone but there's nothing built in anywhere, no doors, windows, not even shelves or piping that I can feel," he reported. As he had been talking he had been approaching the only door into the room, its presence only visible by the thin sliver of light coming from beneath it. He was gasping for breath from the exertion of walking but he was trying not to let it show as he pressed his back up against the door to manually inspect the doorknob and lock.
"Okay, one door leading in," he continued in a huff. "Steel with a basic high-duty deadbolt. Parker could probably open it in about fifteen seconds."
Sophie nodded as it seemed Eliot was finished, "I got it. I'll let Nate know when we work on your escape plan. Do you have any idea what the room might be for?"
"No idea. It's just a cold empty room. Maybe storage I guess," Eliot theorized. He was moving back to the side wall now, exhausted and planning on resting in the corner for awhile now that his inspection was over. He dropped his back against the wall, intending to slide down to sitting, but grunted and tensed when his shoulder blades lighted up in agony.
"Eliot?" Sophie called urgently.
"I'm fine," he gritted out after a moment. "Just moved too fast."
He had actually forgotten about the crowbar he had taken across the back. He was lucky he hadn't dislocated or broken anything but the bones and muscles were still deeply bruised and he had to move carefully. When he was finally sitting he sighed in relief – if his wrists hadn't been handcuffed he actually might have been able to get comfortable.
"What do we do now?" Sophie asked as she put away the notes Eliot had told her.
"We wait," he said simply, leaning his head back in exhaustion.
"So Eliot," Sophie started a new conversation with a mildly mischievous lilt. "You never did tell us what you did with your share of the Pierson job cash."
"And Sophie darlin', you ain't ever gonna know either," he replied with a slightly amused smile. Even those few words had winded him again so he took a breath and continued, "I know you want to keep me company and all but I'm not sure I'm up for a whole lot of conversation."
"Oh don't worry," Sophie said offhand. "I can talk enough for the both of us."
Eliot sighed. Now the real torture was about to begin.
TBC
Sorry about the long wait. There's just something about this chapter and the next one that isn't flowing right. I've been proofreading and changing things but something just feels off and I can't tell what it is, maybe it's the lack of humor, I'm not sure. Hope you enjoyed anyway! Thanks for reading! The "Free Eliot Job" starts next time!