Happy Monday!

The theme for this chapter is "It's Probably Me" by Sting. I think it works for the whole crew, don't you?

Enjoy!

Chapter 3: To Your Defense

Nate charged into the office at full speed, bellowing. "Hardison!"

Hardison looked up from his desk, eyes wide. "Nate? What's…?"

Nate spotted Parker appearing from out of nowhere, suddenly perched on the couch and tying knots in a length of rope.

"Parker. Call Sophie. Wake her up. Tell her to get ready. We'll pick her up on the way."

Parker, bless her forever, saw his frantic panic and simply obeyed, though her eyes widened.

Nate didn't stop his movement until he was at Hardison's side. "We need a flight to Boston. Now. Not tomorrow, not in an hour. Now."

Hardison blinked at him, but turned to his computer. "Probably nothing available commercially, but I can charter us a plane if you want."

"Do it. And get your go-bag."

"Nate?" Parker called. "Sophie wants to know what's going on, too."

Nate pounded a fist into Hardison's desk. "A bunch of Russian mobsters just attacked Eliot." He let out a breath and his dropped his head, his shoulders falling into a slump. "I heard an explosion."

If he had screamed it at the top of his lungs, it could not have cut through the air more than his quiet panic and tense fear. And that, more than his words, was what put the dread into Hardison and Parker like cold leaching through their skin.

Eliot was unbeatable. Eliot was the one member of the team who never broke, never gave in, never ran out of options. He was the one who made options, created openings, secured avenues for the rest of them. Nate could have declared that the Tooth Fairy had asked him on a date and that would be more credible than the possibility of Eliot actually being defeated.

But Nate's fear and certainty were a statement of fact that could contradict all other reality.

Hardison managed to speak first. "I'll have a jet waiting by the time we get to the airport."

That spurred Parker into motion. "I'll get the go-bags. I've already got one ready for you and Sophie up in my room." She darted off, sticking her phone into her pocket without another word to Sophie.

Any other time, Nate would have been amused. Of course Parker would have spare go-bags for the others. Of course. And probably filled with their own items pilfered out of their respective apartments and never missed or noticed. They all took care of the team in different ways, and this was just hers.

Hardison finished making the arrangements and bolted from the desk, shoving laptops into bags with little care. But as he did, he glanced up.

"Nate, if Eliot's in trouble, shouldn't we call Bonanno? Or the regular police?"

Nate had already considered it. He'd offered it to Eliot, too, but heard more in the Hitter's refusal than what had been said. And that was before the explosion.

"If we do, they'll make the whole place a crime scene," he said. "We won't be able to get close. And...depending on what exactly happened, we're going to need to be able to operate without dancing around them if we can help it."

"Nate, what happened? Why was Eliot in Boston dealing with the mob?"

Nate shook himself and straightened up. "I'll tell you on the way." Then he met Hardison's eyes and pinned the Hacker with a look he had worn rarely over the years they'd known one another.

It was the look of a man on the warpath. The look he wore at the dam facing off against the two men who had killed his father.

"Brace yourself. This one is going to be bad."

-==OOO==-

The first hour on the plane involved Nate explaining where Eliot had gone and why and reciting all the information Eliot had shared in the two phone calls. He was forced to exactly repeat Eliot's words twice for Sophie, who started quietly mulling over the language and looking for hidden meanings and nuance. Hardison split his attention between continuing the hack on the FBI and checking the police records for anything that looked like a call to Fire-and-Rescue at the Connell residence.

But Parker sat and stared at Nate until he could only raise his eyebrows at her and wait.

"Why aren't you planning?"

"Excuse me?"

"You." Parker wrinkled her nose at him. "You're not planning. That's not Planning Face. So what are you doing?"

Nate dipped his head, acknowledging her insight. "Trying to decide something. I'll tell you what it is when I decide. Okay?"

"Fair enough." And she went to sit with Hardison and keep him calm and focused while he crawled through the internet with frantic energy.

In the last hour of the flight, Nate cleared his throat. "Okay, guys."

The other three stopped what they were doing and looked up. Sophie had been pretending to read the same magazine for two hours and set it aside without another glance. Hardison and Parker abandoned their seats at the rear of the little jet to perch beside him.

"Eliot said Connell betrayed him, that this was a setup from the beginning. And he also said he didn't want me bringing you into it."

"Yes, and look how well you listened," Sophie said.

He ignored her. "We need to know what happened and we need to know why Connell did what he did. But after that, we'll have to make a decision."

He paused. Took a breath.

"If we haven't heard from Eliot by the time we get our answers, do we still go after him?"

"Of course we do!" Parker said.

"Yeah, man," Hardison said. "I know Eliot can handle anything, but we don't leave a man behind."

But Sophie was studying Nate more closely. "What are you afraid of, Nate?"

"Eliot had a point," Nate said, looking between them. "We've conned the Irish mob a couple of times, and a few others like them, but we've never fought them. We might find ourselves in the middle of something we can't grift or hack or steal our way out of. What then?"

He let them consider that question for a few moments.

Sophie leaned towards him, not touching him, but making her presence known. "What do you think?"

"I think…" Nate stopped. Remembered a warehouse filled with men with guns and his promise to Eliot. They don't need to know what I did. "I think Eliot would walk into hell on broken legs for us. I think he would shred his soul if we needed him."

He looked up, meeting their eyes one at a time.

"So if he's in hell now, if he needs help...I can't ask any of you to come with me. But I'm not leaving him there. No matter the consequences."

"You understand that might mean putting yourself in danger," Sophie said. "Or doing something...something unforgivable."

Nate could feel her thinking about the gun he had almost turned on Dubenich and Latimer.

He smiled, and it was a very not-nice smile.

"You know what Eliot said to me? He told me that when you kill someone, you actually kill two different people. The other guy, and the person you used to be."

The weight of their eyes on his shoulders made him straighten up.

"And if that's what it takes to save Eliot...or to save any of you...that's a price I'm willing to pay."

Nate rose, surprising all three.

"But you have to decide for yourselves if it's a price you can live with. Let me know when we land if you want to walk away."

And he retreated to the far end of the cabin.

Ten seconds later, Parker sat down beside him.

"Now you have Planning Face," she said.

Hardison joined them. "So what's the plan?"

Nate looked at them both, and he gave himself a moment to revel in the staunch courage and loyalty they had – not just to him, but to each other.

Then he looked up at Sophie, who had moved to a spot just behind Hardison's shoulder. "You're not walking away? What happened to 'don't get involved with a murderer?'"

Sophie shook her head. "That was revenge. Pointless. And you'd never survive it." She put a hand on Hardison's shoulder and leaned around him, just shy of what could almost be an invisible group hug. "This? Honestly, I don't know if any of us will survive it if we don't get him back. And this isn't about revenge."

"This is family."

The words, so simple, came from Parker almost reflexively, like a sneeze. Then she looked around, suddenly unsure.

"That's what you're all thinking, right?"

Nate nodded, smiling.

"That's exactly what we're thinking."

-==OOO==-

Whatever Nate expected at the Connell house, it wasn't quiet. In spite of the fact that Hardison couldn't find even so much as a call into 911 from the neighborhood, Nate thought for sure there must be something to show what had happened. But the house stood, oddly teal and huge and serene, as if it hadn't been the scene of something with the potential to rip his team apart.

Nate had prepared six different plans to get into the house, but now that he was looking at it, he threw them all away without a second thought.

"Let's go."

He rose out of the car Parker had 'acquired' for them and strode up the front steps, everyone else falling in behind him. At the door, he tried the knob and hated that it turned easily, unlocked and swinging open.

The front room looked more like a warzone, and Nate found that somewhat comforting. The evidence of many people and much confusion was everywhere, from tipped over tables and shattered picture frames to a few spots of blood on the rug.

Nate saw it all, but it barely registered.

The only thing that mattered was the figure he could see at the far end of the house in the kitchen, sitting at the table beside a mostly-empty bottle of whiskey.

Nate would never remember charging through the house. He would never recall if he yelled or swore or moved like a silent predator. The thing he did remember was the feeling of John Connell's shirt in his hands, and the satisfying sound the man made when he hit the wall.

"What did you do?" Nate roared. He stalked to where he'd thrown Connell and hauled him up, pinning him against the wall and pressing his fists into the man's windpipe. "Answer me!"

"Hardison," Parker said quietly behind him, "pull the house security cameras. We'll need them."

Nate looked into John Connell's face, finally noting that it was red and blotchy and there was the clear indication of a bad punch to his jaw. Nate could only hope it was put there by Eliot.

Sophie appeared at Nate's elbow. Nate spared her enough of a glance to warn her off stopping him or reining him in.

But Sophie ignored Nate entirely, her eyes only for Connell.

"Where's Molly, John?"

And John Connell started to blubber.

If anything, the man's distress angered Nate more. He pulled back only to shove Connell into the wall again.

"You better tell me what the hell went on here or…"

"Nate, duck."

Those words, said in Parker's calm voice, cut through Nate's haze of rage and he let go of Connell and moved aside just as an entire gallon of milk was upended over Connell's head.

Connell dropped to the expensive floor, half slipping on milk, coughing with surprise.

Nate eyed Parker, who shrugged. "He stopped crying, didn't he?"

Nate gave her a dark smile. "Get some ice water, in case we need to do that again."

"On it."

Nate leaned down to the now-sopping Connell and arranged his face into something cool and distant and almost pleasant. And given that he was still practically vibrating with anger, it was apparently even scarier than shouting, because Connell started to talk.

"It was...the Russians said I owed them. Because of the chip. But I didn't have anything...I tried. I offered them anything...my company or money or...but they said I owed them. And they told me...Eliot Spencer had a price on his head… So I called you. They told me...if I gave them Spencer...they'd leave me alone."

"But they didn't, did they?" Sophie asked, and Nate was sure he'd never heard her sound that cold before.

Connell shook his head.

"They...they choked her. And after they drugged Eliot...they said...they said…"

"I got it."

Everyone turned to where Hardison was holding a laptop. He turned it towards them and they could see the upstairs hallway packed full of men in dark clothing, with one holding Molly and four restraining Eliot. No, not restraining, Nate realized. Supporting. Eliot was concussed or unconscious or something, but he was clearly in no position to fight anybody.

"Run it," Nate said.

Hardison turned up the sound on his speakers.

"...it's done, right?" Connell was asking. "You got what you came for."

"For now." The man holding Molly gestured with his head and someone else appeared to take her from him. He advanced on Connell. "But now begins your real work."

"What-what do you mean? I gave you what you wanted!"

The man punched Connell in the face, dropping him. He waited until one of his goons yanked Connell back to his feet to answer.

"This is payment for what you owe us for your broken deal," he said. "But now there is a new deal."

"Wh-what?"

"You do not simply pay us and walk away, John Connell. That is not how we do business. Now you belong to us. And you will do as we say."

"I…"

"Dad?"

All attention shifted as Molly started blinking and moving around, as much as the goon holding her would allow. She gasped as she saw Eliot.

"What's going on?"

"It's okay, pumpkin. It's going to be fine."

"Yes," the Russian said, turning back to Connell. "It is. Now, here is our new bargain. You will go back to work like a good little businessman. In a few days, we will contact you with a request. You will do as you are told. In exchange, we will not harm your lovely little daughter."

Nate missed whatever happened immediately thereafter as his vision whited out in rage. But he managed to make himself focus in time to see the Russian gesture to his men to carry Eliot downstairs.

"Dad!" Molly called.

"You let her go!" Connell fought against the man who held him, but he might as well have been flailing against stone.

"She will be safe enough," the Russian said, "as a down-payment. When you complete your task, she will be returned."

Molly reached out and kicked the nearest guy in the shins.

Nate watched the Russian in charge slap her and hated himself for being grateful that it was only a slap, and only enough to daze, rather than anything worse.

"Behave, little girl. I would not like to have to return you to your home without a few fingers and toes."

"Molly, just do as he says," John Connell said, voice shaking. "You promise me you won't hurt her?"

"Unless she leaves me no choice, yes." The Russian leaned close to Molly and said something too low for the camera to pick up, but whatever it was started her crying.

"Now." The Russian held out a hand and someone gave him a water bottle. "Drink some. Not all of it. You are not an elephant like him." He jerked his head down the stairs where Eliot had disappeared.

Molly took a few sips, visibly shaking.

Hardison paused the video. "And then they left. That's it."

Nate turned back to John Connell. "You stupid son of a bitch. Now they own you for life, you and Molly. Once you do whatever they ask, they'll have blackmail on you. You'll have no choice but to do everything they say from now on. And Molly…" He turned away. It was either that or put his fist through Connell's face.

"I...I realize that now. I just didn't…"

Nate forced himself to focus and think. And, more importantly, act.

"Hardison, get every frame of security footage from the house for the last two weeks backed up on your computer. Then Connell's going to fry his system. We can't risk the Russians thinking he's going to turn them in."

"Right."

"Parker. I need you to clean up anything that makes this house look like a crime scene."

Connell sputtered, "B-but why?"

"Because," Sophie said, "the only way you and Molly get out of this alive is if you do everything the Russians ask you to from now on – and you don't give them any reason to fear you. If they think you're a threat, they'll kill her. Or worse."

"What's worse?"

Nate hated the man anew for daring to ask and spun back to him.

"They'll kill you. And they'll own Molly. They'll pay off your debt with her. In any way they want."

Connell's face went red, then white, and he looked like he was going to vomit.

A cascade of ice water came down from above. Parker glared at him.

"I have to go clean your stupid house, so if you freak out one more time, I'm going to tase you."

Connell blinked at her.

Nate rose and pulled Sophie aside.

"This...this is worse than I thought. It's not just the Russians. They didn't come after Eliot for payback. They came after him to sell him. Do you have any idea how many people might want his head?"

"At least four countries," Sophie said. "Just from what he's told me over the years."

Nate was surprised, but then he realized that Sophie didn't mean that Eliot had told her directly – she had simply watched him and read the clues even he couldn't hide from her.

"He could be anywhere...and Molly could be anywhere too."

Sophie glanced back at Connell and bit her lip. "What are we going to do? How can we help Eliot and leave Molly to the Russians?"

Nate felt sure that he would run out of rage at some point, but he certainly wasn't anywhere near that point yet.

He remembered standing only a handful of yards from this very spot when Eliot had reported over comms that Molly had been taken. He remembered putting the whole team on a reset, ready to burn Connell and the chip and anything else necessary to save her.

He remembered what he had said to Eliot.

Eliot, we're gonna need to know if anyone has left the carnival.

Forty seconds from the main entrance. Nate, if I'm engaged…

And he remembered his response. Do your worst.

Nate Ford had unleashed Eliot Spencer, had 'taken the safety off the gun' as Sophie had put it that one time in Nebraska. He known everything that Eliot was capable of then, and he'd sent him to put that full destructive power to work.

Now it fell to him to do the same.

Nate looked back at Sophie, spotted Hardison and Parker across the room both watching him with eyes that held a silent plea for him to have some kind of answer, some kind of plan.

"I don't know. But we will find a way. We will get them both out, safely. We're bringing them home. No matter what."