-day before incident-one hour after debrief-

"Ok. How's everyone looking?"

Eliot refrained from grimacing at the slight slur in the mastermind's voice, knowing that the man was close to reaching his limit. He would mention it if Nate went overboard, but so far the plan wasn't threatening to the team. Surveillance and set up were the first parts to be executed and things were running surprisingly smoothly. Sophie had weaved her web of lies and was already set to meet Balagula in the course of minutes. Parker was perched on the roof of a nearby building, gathering Intel and surveying the layout of the warehouse that supposedly housed the main operations. Nate and Hardison were in Lucille, the later gathering more information on the Russian mafia and Balagula. Who knew what Nate was doing, if he was doing anything at all except coming up with the plan that Eliot hoped wasn't life threatening to a member of the team. The hitter shifted on his feet, again trying to hide a grimace, though for a completely different reason. The last con didn't do him any favors and he was sure he had multiple cracked ribs, though he was thankful they weren't broken. That's what he gets though, being suckered into the con on a cruel zoo manager from just a bat of Parker's large puppy eyes. Not that he would refuse, he just knew that zoo managers that treated the animals cruelly wasn't going to be good for him. Especially since his roles typically were the hands on experiences and he wasn't too fond of being in the lion's den with a very hungry lion.

Sophie's fake laugh snapped Eliot from his thoughts and he reflexively straightened his stance, though it made his torso scream in agony. His typical role as a bodyguard was a relief from the grifting experience he had to pull off only hours before on the last con. Starving animals he'd take any day over his other part he had to play as an undercover animal rights activist. Having to fake interest in the corrupt local government that his persona became involved with was exhausting and in its own way painful. It wasn't that he couldn't grift when he needed to, it's just that grifting wasn't his...thing. He didn't specialize in grifting, preferring to punch the answers out of people than spend hours coaxing it out of them. This was one of those roles where he didn't have to say much, his air of intimidation stating his reasons and purpose for being by Sophie.

Eliot shadowed her steps as she was lead by a goon further into the warehouse, scanning the area and finding many crates of what he assumed to be filled with something illegal. Ammunition, drugs, money, or anything else of the sort were bouncing in his thoughts for top contender. It would be something worth fighting and killing for by the look of the place. There were armed men around every corner, their handguns not visible by someone who didn't suspect it. But Eliot was no fool, his expertise in spotting and eliminating men like this a valuable asset when protecting his team. By how smoothly things were running, he felt no reason to be worried by how outnumbered they were. However, it was the fact that everything was painfully easy so far that made him on guard. Nothing had ever gone this smoothly, especially when pitted against the Russian mafia. The hairs on the back of Eliot's neck were on end, his body tense for a fight even though he kept the mostly relaxed outward appearance.

Sophie stopped when they reached the middle of the warehouse and the goon that was previously laughing and falling for Sophie's fake charm suddenly turned on them, gun pointed straight at the grifter's head. Eliot moved on instinct, one hand coming up to push the gun upward as the other moved Sophie behind him. The hitter twisted the goon's wrist in the same move, the gun falling out to land perfectly in his own hand. The man's cry of pain was cut short as he found himself suddenly staring down the barrel of his own gun. There was a brief moment of silence as the room comprehended what happened in the matter of seconds. Then nearly a dozen guns were out and pointed at the hitter and grifter.

Sophie composed herself from the shock of the moment and slipped back into her Annie Croy mode. She didn't expect this specifically to happen, and very certainly didn't expect Eliot to point a gun at the man's head instead of disarming it like he usually did. But this was a role, and it would be odd for her bodyguard to not take advantage of the moment to have a temporary hostage and send the visible threat that he knew how to use the weapon he now held.

The goon stared stupefied at how he was beaten but mostly not afraid because of the numbers he had on his side. However, Eliot's cold gaze bore into his very soul, a low growl erupting from the hitter's chest at the thought that this witless goof pulled a gun on Sophie.

"There is already trouble here?"

Balagula stepped out from behind a crate, smirk in place as he took in the scene. Sophie immediately narrowed her eyes at his arrival, anger swirling around her in waves as she took in the Russian. He had spiky blonde hair and a thick Russian-American accent, fairly tall and imposing though his looks made him appear as if he were a movie star.

"Ah Ms. Croy is it? What seems to be the problem?"

There was a split second of silence of Sophie's venomous glare directed at the handsome mobster. The gaze only broke when the grifter slowly put her hand on Eliot's arm to lower it and make significant eye contact with him. She let her words slide past her lips in the dangerous and seductive way that could only be compared to the beauty an insect would see in a spider's web, not realizing the death that it gifted.

"Aaron, give the man back his gun. Now you," Sophie turned from Eliot-or as the con had it-Aaron Fasano, and addressed Balagula. "You treat all business deals this way?" The grifter paused, lazily bringing her eyes about the room if bored with her near death experience. "No I suppose not. So what is the matter, Vladimir?"

The slow but low tones the grifter presented made certain that she owned the conversation, demanded and expected the attention of her audience. Sophie was angry and shocked, but she hid it under the veil of an icy calm, implying underlying and hostile emotions. The deadly air she gave made the attention of the room shift to her, though the actual threat was still Eliot with the gun he had previously pointed at the henchman.

"You are right. I do not start my deals this way, but you have not exactly given me a choice, have you?"

Balagula stepped closer towards them, his right hand fiddling with the watch under his left suit sleeve. His smile, deceptively welcoming, grew on his face as he spoke.

"You have not told me the truth Ms. Croy. I have a cousin by the name of Nicolas Obrovic, who can attest to that."

Sorry:/ I've neglected my stories and I apologize. However I will have to be dead to completely stop and this one was the one screaming at me most to update so... I will try to spout out updates on my other stories too.

now for fun facts: Vladamir Balagula is named after an actual former Russian mobster by the name of Marat Balagula. Eliot's alias of Aaron Fasano is also a reference to Robert Fasano, a business associate of Balagula's that wore a wire for the U.S. Secret service and ultimately started the downfall of Balagula. Also, the last line is super significant and will be explained:)