"So what's our plan Nate?" Sophie asked as they sat in their rental car outside of the court house. Through binoculars, Nate stared intently at the court house steps. He wasn't looking for anything in particular and he knew the recon was more or less irrelevant for this job, but he needed something to keep him from looking at Sophie.
Her eyes had a way of twisting his mind. It was a good sort of twisting, the kind that made his mind sit better than it had in a long time. But today he did not need that.
He wanted to feel angry; he wanted to feel vengeful. He didn't want Sophie twisting his thoughts.
"Nate?" she asked once more when he did not respond, placing her hand on his knee.
"We go in," he began, removing the binoculars from his face and shifting to face Sophie better, though he was still sure to only maintain eye contact for a few seconds. "Pose as feds, or lawyers or congressmen or whoever,, convince him to release Dubenich on parole and walk out."
"That simple?" she joked and opened the door.
Nate, still sombre, followed.
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"Guys, guys, guys, I got something," Hardison exclaimed proudly.
Eliot paused his brisk jogging and held out his arm, gesturing Parker, running behind him, to do the same.
"What?" he asked as Parker slammed into his arm.
"So I checked out all the people who work for Latimer," he began quickly and enthusiastically, "under the name Jo, I came up with three possibilities but only one of them works for security-"
"Hardison!" he cursed at the hacker's incessant rambling.
"Right," he replied; he was slightly disappointed, but under the circumstances, he could understand. He could understand how Eliot didn't want to hear how he had found the Jo that had worked for Latimer's security, narrowed down what other men would be working with him and then traced the cash they'd withdrawn and lined it up with the amounts payed for rent in the area.
Which had then been confirmed with the name on the lease; Hank Williams? Please.
"Turn around, third left, second building on the right," he told them instead. "Bonnano and his guys are already on the way."
"Got it," he replied and began sprinting again.
"Eliot I'm right outside," he heard Shelley declare, and Eliot looked at his watch; they were running out of time. "You're call boss. Just like Bosnia? I'll go in if you say the word."
"Go," Eliot declared. Shelley didn't hesitate for an instance.
XXXXXXXXXX
It was a medium sized warehouse, with rusted beams and a narrow laneway separating it from the surrounding buildings. Shelley was quick to slip into the lane upon Eliot's instruction quietly and expertly, just as the elder hitter had taught him.
He shrunk around the side until he reached a door and, listening carefully for any noise, he entered cautiously. He found himself in a small storage room which, after clearing expertly, he snuck out of and explored the building quietly until he found a set out downward leading stairs.
Informed with the information from Kyle, he was certain this was the right place to and slipped down quietly, treading toe-heel so as not to make a sound. When he reached the bottom he was not surprised to find the little alcove void of any guards; just like Kyle had said and the soldier reminded himself to praise Eliot for so well informing his kid. Without it, they'd've had very little, probably nothing, to go on.
He opened the large metal door slowly, but despite his efforts the rusting metal still let out a loud creak. The noise made him cringe as he greeted Abigail with a smile.
She looked vastly surprised to see him, of all people.
"Well, if it isn't Goose," she greeted, standing up off the chair and brushing the dust from her behind before she jumped into his arms. She didn't know him very well but the friendly face was a comfort.
"Princess Buttercup," he smiled, the embrace taking him aback for a moment. "So you did watch it?" He pushed her away and poled his head around the corner. "Stick close to me," he added on a separate note and began to move up the stairs. Abby followed closely.
"I may or may not have happened to watch it while it was already on," she confessed as they jogged up the stairs. "Did you watch it?" she asked in response. He stuck his head around the corner at the top of the stairs and ducked back quickly, seeing two of the guards moving towards their position.
"No, but everybody knows Princess Buttercup," he whispered then, after gesturing Abby to stay where she was, stepped out into the line of sight of the two men with his hands held out submissively. The soldier smiled smugly and, confused with the look of calm, almost happiness on the man's face, the two thugs exchanged looks before Shelley leapt into action.
He went for their guns first, effortlessly twisting them out of their bulky hands and tossing them over a pile of scrap, out of reach of both him and the assailants.
Then, with similar ease, as they tried to hit for his gut and torso, he sent quick jabs to their ribs and solar plexus. Both clutched at their chests in pain before trying to square back up but it was too late and, in an almost comical motion, Shelley slammed their two heads into each other. They collapsed, unconscious, to the floor.
Shelley stepped back over them, walking over their limbs and looked at his work with a sense of pride on his face. He bent down, pulled out a set of cable ties and flipped the first man over.
"Shame really," Abby noted and Shelley, crouching on the ground looked up and gave her a quizzical look as he zipped the first man's hands behind his back. "I mean about you not seeing the movie," she clarified.
He laughed and stepped over to the second unconscious man and tied him up. He checked the tightness of the restraints, fished their ID's out of their pockets and stood up, wiping his hands on his pants.
"Is Eliot nearby?" she asked hopefully.
Shelley nodded, flicking his eyes up and down the corridor out of habit. "He's on his way."
Abby smiled in relief but it was short-lived, a thick, beefy pair of hands grabbing her shoulder and wrenching her to the side. She fell into the wall, and her hair was strewn across her face and peeking sideways she could see all 200 pounds of the olive-skinned man from the bar bowl Shelley to the ground.
He went for Abby again next as she pushed herself up but, using her smaller size to her advantage (like Eliot had taught her to do), she ducked down and he toppled over her.
He moaned, began to push himself up and Abby squared up just like she'd wanted to do for the last few hours. But before the man could get up and before she could throw an anticipated punch, Shelley booted him in the head and he collapsed onto the ground.
"Time to go," he declared, softly grabbing her arm and pulling her away towards the exit he came through.
"As you wish," she replied, jumping out the door in front of the man and running quickly down the lane way which surrounding the building.
"Hey Eliot," Shelley shouted into the coms, yelling only because he was running and it was easier for him to do.
"Yeah," Eliot replied, yelling for the same reasons.
"I got the package," he declared, reverting back to their old form of communication only out of habit, as they spun around the corner. "We'll meet you at-" he was interrupted by slamming into the hitter, who was slammed into by Parker. "See," Shelley smiled, stepping back, "just like Bosnia."
The hitter ignored the quip and instead ran up to Abigail and embraced her in one of the largest hugs he'd ever given her. As Shelley looked for any movement over their shoulder, Eliot patted her hair and rocked from side to side. He didn't let go, even when Abby released her grip, he just held on tighter.
"Hey Nate," Parker stated into the coms. "We got her."
"Roger that," Nate replied.
"Oh thank god," Sophie sighed under her breath.
Sirens ran out from across the area and through the alley they could see a swarm of FBI and state police surround the building. At that point, Shelley relaxed and Eliot released Abigail.
"Did you get them?" Eliot asked, wrapping his arm around his niece.
"The three muscle tied up or unconscious," Shelley declared, nodding at Abigail, giving her credit for the last one.
"And the head guy?"
Shelley shook his head. "No sign of him."
Eliot cursed under his breath, but he let it go. "That's okay," he declared. "Don't matter." And it didn't matter, at least not right now. Now that they had Abby back, there was no reason to release Dubenich from prison and they could go after Latimer (and his security) like they would any other job.
"Eliot?" Abby murmured, looking up her uncle. "You're hurting my arm."
"Sorry." He released his grip slightly and they turned to slowly back to walk towards the car. Parker joined in, wrapping her arm around Abby's shoulder and marching, in her usual enthusiastic, non-normal manner alongside the other two.
"We're glad you're back," the thief said merrily. "Are you guys going to head back to Boston?" she asked Sophie.
"Yeah, so we can take this asshole down?" Eliot added.
"I'm not sure," came Sophie's confused reply.
\
"Nate," Sophie declared as the mastermind walked towards the judge's office. Despite hearing the news and knowing that they no longer needed to go ahead with the plan in order to keep Abby safe, he kept marching. "Nate, she's safe. Dubenich can stay in prison."
"I know," he replied in a gravelly tone, but still he did not break his stride.
"Nate," Sophie stated more firmly. "I know what you're thinking of doing and don't." Every word was carefully articulated, indicating her irritation and concern.
"I know what I'm doing Sophie," he dismissed and walked straight into the judge's office. She had to force herself from not screaming out in anger.
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Sorry for the delay, crappy week. Car troubles on numerous occasions, both stupid things which I could have avoided, but hey, it's still running so I've got that going for me.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope you're all doing well! Excited for Christmas I hope
xx A Lyrical Dreamer
