Title: Wanted
Summary: Eliot was wanted in several countries. What if one of them got him? Eliot whump.
Rating: T, for violence and some cursing. Possible some implied non-con, but nothing graphic.
Author's Note: As always, I'm not a doctor and don't play one on TV, so all medical mistakes are mine. Also, this is unbeta'ed, so I guess all mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: The Leverage team isn't mine (boohoo). I own nothing, except a little belly button lint.
Other Authors Notes: Thanks for the reviews! The whumpfest is not over - it has hardly begun! (*evil laugh*). This is just a short chapter so the whump fest doesnt pause too long. The story is written, and updates should happen every 4-5 days.
By Hardison's calculations their plane would land approximately 20 hours after Sterling's plane landed. Nate knew that in that time it was most likely that Eliot would already be in a prison by the time they landed. He wished he'd given into a brief urge several months ago to buy a plane and put a pilot on retainer; they would have been off the ground and enroute hours earlier. The twenty hour delay was caused by Hardison having to find them a commercial flight to Myanmar, and then bumping several passengers off the booked plane. He felt bad about doing that, and under normal circumstances would have arranged for them to be on another flight. But he didn't have time for that, and as soon as he scheduled the flight he was onto his next project - trying to figure out where Eliot would be taken.
"There's a half a million dollar bounty on Eliot's head." Hardison said after completing his research, "Seems like he was involved in some rebellion years ago, and one of the military leader's sons were killed. Eliot managed to get out of the country - more or less in one piece - and a bounty was placed on his head. I guess the military worked at it pretty hard for the first year or so, but with all the upheaval this country has gone thru it finally got pushed to the backburner. But the bounty was left active, and I guess Sterling made plans to cash in on it."
"We've made good plans to keep ourselves safe from local government authorities, but I think we've done ourselves a disservice forgetting about warrants other countries have put out on some of us." Nate said at the end of Hardison's speech.
"I've got lots!" Parker said brightly, "Sometimes when I'm bored I go to those countries and play tag with the government. They've never caught me."
Sophie rolled her eyes at her female teammate. She had a bounty on her head in several countries too, and had even gone to those countries to do a job, but she didn't go there with the intent to see if they could catch her. Parker really was insane.
"Nate," Parker said, "You don't have any. Don't you want to fit in?"
Nate gave a half smile. He really wasn't in the mood for laughter right now, but had to admit Parker's off beat sense of humour took some of the sting out of the predicament they were in, "Maybe some other day."
"Okay, cool. I'll be glad to help."
Hardison spoke up again, "There's no new information on Eliot in the system just yet. There probably won't be until we get to Burma. By then I should hopefully be able to hack into the government server and see where they are holding Eliot. So until then…" he trailed off.
"Until then we rest up." Nate finished for him.
While Nate and the rest of the team were on the plane to Burma, Eliot was finding himself dragged uncaringly into a Myanmar prison. His vision was too hazy to see what was written on the signs leading into the prison, so that when he was finally pulled out of the back of the military vehicle he had no idea what prison he was in. He staggered to his feet, and immediately fell back to the ground when one of the prison guards took the rifle butt and slammed it into his right leg. He heard a sickening crack as he fell to the ground and grasped at his leg in pain, crying out when he was unable to bite back the sound of pain that burst thru his lips.
Another well dressed man stepped forward and sneered where Eliot writhed on the ground, "We don't leave chains on our prisoners all the time, that would be cruel," he laughed, "But I don't want you thinking that you could try to escape or try to take out a few of my guards. I am the warden of this prison, and everything that happens to you - either good or bad - is on my say so. I can make your time here relatively pleasant, or absolute hell. What do you have to say to that, Mr, Spencer?"
Eliot was only half concentrating on the man's words, trying also to control his breathing and the pain that was bursting thru his freshly broken leg, as well as the pain that had renewed itself from the other injuries that he had received in the past day and a half. He looked up at the warden, half aware that the man had asked him a question. He knew he should keep his mouth shut, knew that he was better off not saying anything, but his defenses were down, worn away by drugs and pain, and he was operating on impulses now, "Fuck you." he spat at the man.
The warden laughed, "I'm not surprised you feel that way. I was informed that you were quite stubborn. My men will enjoy breaking you."
"You'll never break me," Eliot growled from where he lay on the ground.
The warden didn't respond to Eliot's statement, but Eliot saw him nod to one of the men, "Let's break something to show him how wrong his words are. His arm," the warden stated, "I think the left one will do nicely."
The man smiled cruelly and stepped forward, taking a nightstick from his duty belt. Another man grabbed the iron bars that were still attached to Eliot's neck collar and pulled the hitter upward. The man with the nightstick took a solid swing and the sound of breaking bone in Eliot's upper arm was drowned out only by the cry of pain that was torn from his throat. He slumped forward, only to find himself dragged backwards by his neck. The warden and his men laughed.
"So you won't be broken, huh?" the warden sneered, "We'll see how long you can hold onto that thought. Put him in cell 89. That will put him in Marhkra's tank. You can take the chains off when you get there."
The prison guards laughed, and grabbing Eliot by the bars and chains that were wrapped around him, dragged him to the cell block. They unchained him when they got to the cell, and Eliot lay there unresistingly, too tired and in too much pain to take advantage of the situation when he was finally free. He was thrown into the cell, where he landed on the concrete floor, and he lay there in an unmoving heap, barely conscious, while they laughed and closed the heavy steel doors shut behind them.