Chapter 13

Eliot was sitting back in the corner of the bar, nursing a beer and letting Parker yak it up with some of the other drivers. He watched her, musing on how easy she was with the other men. Parker's social quirks, they didn't seem to jump out when she was talking driving. And if the guys started getting a little too personal, well, he was there to keep her from getting jumpy. He'd already gotten up and strolled over to lean over her shoulder once or twice, ordering another beer, or getting Parker a refill, all so he could wrap an arm around her shoulder and give a guy a good hard stare. As long as no one was hitting on her, Parker was doing fine.

Of course, that was probably being helped by the fact that Nate, Hardison and Sophie were staying quiet on the coms. Not having the peanut gallery constantly chattering in your ear made it easier to stay in character. Eliot had to figure that they were all huddled up somewhere, talking about him and Parker while they listened in to the action at the bar.

Sophie's reaction to the two of them had been both expected and unexpected, Eliot thought, and took a swallow of his beer. She'd gone all parental on them, and then backed off. He wasn't sure why. Eliot wasn't looking forward to their team meeting after this, he figured that Nate was going to have a few words to say to him. Eliot made an effort to unclench his jaw and relax his face. No one was taking Parker away from him. He didn't really care what kind of worries Nate had about the team.

Parker had her head bent over a map with the older driver that seemed to have taken a shine to her, Patrick, Eliot thought his name was. They really seemed to be getting into it, he could tell by the intent look on Parker's face. He watched as the bartender made his way down the line, filling and freshening drinks. Parker looked up and nodded at the guy in a friendly manner, but she wasn't really paying attention. Eliot's eyes narrowed a bit as he watched the bartender. Seemed like the guy gave Parker a little extra look. He didn't like that. Just his luck that his woman was the best looking one in the place tonight. He'd had to sit through a lot of 'looks'.

Eliot ran his eyes around the place. At least Darrien wasn't here. That would have been the icing on his cake.

As Eliot finished the thought and lifted his drink, the door opened, and Dumbass himself walked in. Great, Eliot thought. Another bar fight. Eliot heaved a sigh, and prepared to get up and get in between Parker and Darrien, but to his surprise, Darrien just gave a narrowed look at Parker, then walked away to the other side of the room and a table in the corner. Eliot eased back. Huh. That was interesting.

Parker didn't seem to be aware of Darrien, carrying on with Patrick over that map, but Eliot could see the slight lines of tension in her neck and back. She knew exactly where the man was, all right.

Eliot sipped his beer again, and kept his eyes on Parker. Don't make trouble where there's none, he reminded himself. Sometimes things can go easy.

He caught movement over by the storage room door, and narrowed his eyes again. There was Tiny Tim, unless there was another big ugly tattooed guy in the con. Yep. Tiny Tim.

"Nate," Eliot said softly. "I got Darrien in one corner, seems like he's playing cool. I got Tiny Tim in the storeroom door. No sign of Pitts. What'd you think's going on?"

There was nothing for a moment. Then Nate's voice. "Keep things low key, we just want to see what Tiny Tim's going to do. Hardison says Pitts cell phone puts him a couple of miles away right now."

"Sounds good," Eliot murmured. He cocked his head. "Parker's doing great."

"I can tell," Sophie's voice came. "She sounds very natural and relaxed. Whatever you and Eliot are doing, Parker, keep it up." Eliot watched some of the tension leave Parker's neck and smiled just a little.

"Oh, and Eliot," Nate came back a moment later. "Hardison said to tell you that he traced the call Darrien made before you guys raced, and it was to his wife. No lead there."

"Huh," Eliot mused. Then he frowned. "What the hell's wrong with Hardison's com? How come you're talking for him?"

There was a clearing of a throat in his ear. "There may have been an unfortunate accident to Hardison's earbud earlier," Nate said. "Apparently we're not the best of housemates without our own spaces to retreat to." There was a pause. "And without proper internet connections, Hardison says."

Eliot grinned again. Hah. Accident, his ass. He'd bet that Nate had gotten fed up with Hardison's bitching about 'substandard working conditions', and flushed the damn thing.

Parker was grinning about something, and it made the smile on his face stay just that little bit longer. She seemed much looser and relaxed than she had before. Eliot was keeping one eye on Tiny Tim, lounging as he was in the doorway, and the other on his partner. At least Parker was enjoying herself.

"Eliot, the rally car's at the hotel, right?" Nate's voice interrupted his musing.

"Yeah," Eliot said. Tiny Tim had just gotten a phone call.

"Hardison's getting security feed of it set up, pulling up the hotel cameras," Nate told him.

"What's the call Tiny Tim's getting?" Eliot asked, eyes narrowing. It seemed like a rather… interesting one? Judging from the look on the guy's face. Tiny was awfully pleased about something.

"Hardison's looking," Nate said.

"Dammit," Eliot muttered. Tiny Tim was turning and heading toward the back door. "He's leaving, Nate."

There was a second of silence. "Parker, you ok up there?" Nate asked. "Eliot, keep some eyes on him for now."

Parker waved cheerily at Eliot. Hell, if he didn't know better, he'd say the woman was getting plastered. Eliot frowned a little. She'd had maybe one full drink. He slid out of the booth and took a step toward her, but Parker made an unobtrusive shoo-ing motion with her hand and he stopped. Parker was a big girl. She could take care of herself for a few minutes. Just a few, Eliot thought, casting another glance over his shoulder as he slipped out the backdoor. If she was buzzed, who knew what the woman would do. Drunk Parker was… interesting, to say the least.

Eliot stepped out into the night air and scanned the dark back lot of the bar. He eased the door shut, not wanted to alert Tiny Tim that he was out there with him. He caught a whisper of movement to his left and ducked, just in time to have a tire iron miss his head.

"Dammit," Eliot cursed, and came up swinging. Christ, the guy was big. Solid, heavy, and not altogether agile. That wasn't his style, nope, Tiny was more the hit-them-hard-enough-to-take-them-down-with-one-blow type. Eliot ducked another pass of the tire iron and landed a couple of blows to the guy's stomach. Tiny grunted and brought his hands down toward Eliot's head and shoulders. Eliot rolled out of the way, wincing as those big meaty fists caught him on the right shoulder.

"What's your problem," Eliot hissed at him. After all, he wasn't supposed to know the guy. "Came out here for a piss, man, and you're taking a swing at me?"

Whoosh! There went the tire iron again and this time it ruffled his hair. "Well, hell with this," Eliot muttered. He gave a quick twist, a roll, and before the big man could get his body around, Eliot was behind him and had him in a headlock, cutting off his hair. He kept the pressure up, watching the man flail a little, finally dropping the tire iron as he sank to his knees and then the ground.

Eliot released him cautiously, making sure he was really out for the count and double checked by laying his fingers against the man's pulse in his neck. Yep. Out for a while. Eliot heaved a breath and shoved his hair back. "Nate, you got a plan here?" he asked grumpily. Easy. This was supposed to have been an easy job.

"Leave him there, Eliot," Nate's voice said. "Go ahead and get Parker, and we'll have our meeting. That'll give Tiny Tim time to wake up and try to sabotage your car."

Eliot started back to the back door. "Yeah, about that," he muttered. "We're not actually going to let him damage the car, right?"

"It's under control," Nate said. A little too cheerfully to his mind.

"I hate it when you say that," Eliot growled as he pushed the back door open and slipped back inside. He scanned the main room for Parker. She'd been sitting at the bar a minute ago.

"Parker?" he said softly, trusting her to hear him on coms. "Where've you gone, darlin'?" She wasn't in the main room. His eyes picked out her drink, empty, and Patrick still sitting in the same spot but talking to another driver. He looked in the corner next, and his eyes narrowed when he saw that Darrien was gone. Eliot was getting a feeling again, and it wasn't a good one.

"Parker," he said again. More insistently. "Where are you?" He waited just a minute and then silently cursed and was about to head out of the bar again and start searching.

"E-Eliot…" He suddenly heard her. Not sounding like Parker at all. "Eliot, I don't feel so good…" There was a grunt and a hiss, and Eliot really didn't like the sound of that. He ducked back down the corridor and out the back.

"Parker! Parker, where are you?" Eliot said again, urgently this time. Now there was a gasp and a moan.

"Eliot…" Eliot cursed and started moving faster. "Nate, where is she?" he barked. "Now!"

"D-dumbass…" Parker's voice trailed off into another moan, then a hiss of pain.

"Hardison says she's about 500 feet from the bar, up in the woods behind," Nate said. Eliot could hear the sharpness in Nates voice. Eliot swiveled and changed his direction and moved at a near run. He ducked branches and stepped as soft as he could as he hurried. He could hear sounds now, sounds he that were setting his blood boiling.

There was the sound of Parker, had to be, sounds of pain and confusion. Not words, but just sounds. And a man, talking softly and he didn't want to think what else. They were just ahead of him and Eliot slowed down, crouching and moving as silently as possible. He finally got eyes on the scene and his hands clenched.

Darrien was leaning over Parker, sprawled on her back on the ground. He couldn't see her eyes, but her face was… unfocused. Wrong. Drugged, Eliot would bet. He felt the rage building. It was like a fire, burning, racing through his veins.

"Who's in charge now, bitch?" he taunted. "You're such a hot shot, whatcha gonna do now?" Eliot saw Darrien reach down and that was enough for him.

"I told you not to mess with my partner again," he growled, stepping out. Screw surprise attack. He wanted this son of a bitch to know exactly what was going to happen to him.

Darrien spun around and smirked at him. He pulled out a knife and waved it at Eliot. "Not this time, pretty boy," he taunted. "This time, I'm going to make you pay, too."

Eliot smiled. A slow, predatory smile that had been known in the past to make seasoned mercenaries pee their pants. "Oh, really?" he said softly. And then he moved.

Tada! Plot! It's all starting to come together… sort of. Keep reviewing, and enjoy!