Chapter 29

Roughly twenty-two hours ago...

"Well, Mr. Douglas, Mrs. Douglas, I think we could get that all arranged." Mrs. Fisher, with her long dark hair and pristine french manicure, smiled as she pulled the piles of paperwork together, her mind constantly flicking back to the serious amount of cash this couple was prepared to spend. It didn't even matter to her that her attention had been drawn away for so long, whilst she discussed with them over a dozen very specific arrangments."You and your lovely wife shall be celebrating your anniversary in style."

And as she pushed herself away from the table, Mr. Douglas reached out his hand to offer her a shake. "We can't thank your enough, Mrs. Fisher. I feel we have taken so much of your time just talking about all this."

"It's not a problem. I'm just glad we could find a way to help the two of you... Oh, would you excuse me a second?" Mrx. Fisher then asked as her phone started to ring.

Seeing the mark's momentary distraction for the opportunity it was, Nate quickly ducked his head away as he spoke to the com unit in his ear.

"Parker, Hardison, are you two out yet?"

"No, Nate. We need more time, we hit a snag." It was the hacker's voice that echoed back to him, sounding slightly agitated as he replied to the mastermind's query.

"A snag what kind of..."

"Excuse me, Mr. Douglas." Having finished her conversation rather quickly, Mrs. Fisher was now turning back to 'Mr. Douglas and his wife,' cutting Nate off mid-response. The sudden interruption actually made the man jump for a second, his grey-blue eyes growing wide with fear.

"Yes?" The mastermind tried to keep the panic out of his voice, but the grifter's expression told him that he wasn't succeeding. "Was there something the matter?" There was something about this woman, that reminded Nate of a shark, and the way that she was staring at him right now, had him seriously concerned that he may be lunch.

That concern only grew larger, when Mrs. Fisher spoke her next words.

"I was just wondering how long you planned to keep this act up?"

"What act?" Sophie was genuinely confused when she answered, not sure if they'd actually been caught out, or if the woman was just bluffing as most marks often did.

"Oh, you know the one" She chuckled mercilessly, the sly grin spreading across her face only cementing Nate's shark-like analogy. "It's the one where you try to distract me for over an hour while your two thieves break into my safe."

"I don't..."

"And don't try to play the innocent. Your hired thug has switched sides." Mrs. Fisher cut the grifter off sharply, her tone more biting as her anger rose. "It seems we were able to offer him a better price." She then offered as a way of explanation.

"Damn it, Nate! Eliot is going to kill you when we get home." Hardison scolded from down the comms, with the thief then adding a quick, "IF we get home," to further prove his point. Both statements made the mastermind wince as the raised words permeated his ears.

"Good for me, my husband is a little paranoid these days and he likes to do background checks on anyone we come across. You and your wife didn't flag up anything. Guess your hacker is good at his job. But your muscle was a completely different story." She paused as she brought up a single arrest record for aggravated assault on her phone, showing it off with glee to the mastermind and his wife. "It seems he wasn't able to cover his tracks quite so well, and so when my husband found out the truth, he offered a large sum to get the man talking."

"Nate! There're guys blocking our exits, and your hitter is nowhere in sight." Parker whispered breathlessly, as the din of Hardison's heavy footfall and panicked mutterings sounded next to her. They were clearly running, but Nate didn't know where to given that their only escape was cut off from them. That's why the thief's next question didn't surprise him much. "What do we do?"

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Roughly five minutes ago...

So, things were looking kind of bad for the team, (in the same sense that the ocean is a little wet) and now they were tied up in the mark's storage space weighing up their limited options.

'At least we're all together,' Nate thought to himself. He couldn't vocalize that statement because of the gag in his mouth, but the quick glance he shot Sophie relayed his message well enough. They were both happy when the hacker and thief were brought in through those doors, even if they were being practically dragged by the swarm of gang members, unable to walk themselves with their hands and feet bound together.

That was God knows how many hours ago now, and Nate's hands had long since gone numb. The mastermind was trying to shift himself into a better position when one of the gang members came storming toward him, a knife sat firmly in his grip as he waved his fist around.

"Don't even think about it, man. Move again and I'll cut ya."

The tone of his voice and the glint in his eyes told Nate that this guy was serious, so he stopped moving instantly and chose to sit like a statue for the next minute or two.

...

"Excuse me, sir."

The mastermind had to force himself not to react when he heard the slightly familiar voice call across the room, head tilting slightly as soon as the gang member looked away from him. He still couldn't see the stranger with enough detail to tell who he was, but Nate was sure that he knew that voice from somewhere.

"You can't be back here."

"Oh, I understand, I'm just a little lost see. Was wonderin' if you could point me in the right direction, son."

'Wait... Is that?'

Nate was about to shout out the man to find out what he was doing there, when an angry growl that he definitely knew scared the living daylights out of him.

"What did I tell ya about goin' alone, huh? That it was askin' for nothin' but trouble." The rumble of the hitter's voice was such a pleasing sound given the circumstances, and the team was oh-so glad to hear it again. They were about to express the fact but Eliot cut the off before they had the chance. "Shhh, don't talk. I'll get you out as quick as I can."

Feeling around for one of the weapons he brought with him that could be used to free the mastermind in front of him, Eliot stopped as he noticed the large lump protruding out of his back pocket. "Oh, yeah," the hitter shook his head remembering what he had stashed back there, he then reached back in and grabbed the small plastic box that had been digging into his ass cheek for the past half hour, opening it to reveal the small buds dropped inside. "I brought ya some spare comms. Me an' the old man are wearing ours already."

With that sorted, the hitter went back to the task of freeing his friends, using the utility knife he brought with him to cut through the first of his teammates' bonds.

"You leave my mum out of it."

"I just wanted directions to the bus station...

"Shit!" Eliot's fingers fumbled over the small knife, his right hand not managing to grip in time to catch the item before it hit the floor.

"Thought people were s'posed t' be friendly up north."

It made an ungodly racket as the hard metal clanged against the ground, but some quick thinking on his father's part, had the hitter sighing in relief.

Once Eliot managed to reorientate himself and eventually slice through the first layer of rope, Nate turned around to ask him, "what is your father doing here?" In a tone that showed both confusion and a little bit of concern. And Sophie then added, "and why is he trying to antagonize a guy that's wielding a knife?"

Looking over, the rest of the team could see why the two oldest members were concerned, especially when Mr. Clark started physically assaulting the young gang member and further insulting his family. And when they turned back around, they could also see their hitter clearly shaking his head in frustration.

"We needed a distraction. I said I'd do it, but he insisted it should be him." As things started to escalate behind him, Eliot quickly sped up his actions, before handing his blade to the mastermind so he could finish the task. "Look, Nate. I've got to go help the old fool before he gets himself killed. So do me a favor and get everyone out and back to my motel room."

"I can't leave you, El. You need..." Nate started to shake his no, but the younger man reached out to hold his arm firmly.

"Don't worry, I've got all the backup I'll need."

And with that, the hitter was walking away, calm and collected just like he used to be.

"Eliot..."

"Come on Nate," Sophie pulled at him with her newly freed arm. "He knows what he's doing, they both do."

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'Ok, think Spencer. Things are different now, so you can't go about this like you would do before.'

'I need to plan this out, choose each step wisely, and try to move towards a goal. I can do that. It's like what Nate was saying. You're an excellent strategist, Eliot, all you need is a little bit of information, and your head does the rest. It doesn't matter that your body doesn't work like it used to because your mind is still sharp as a tack.'

Taking a deep breath in, the hitter relaxed his muscles and tried to remember what years of fighting had taught him as instinct.

'So, think, what do we know about these people? Start with the basics. There are eight guys, all armed with short-range weapons. Their stances tell me that none of them are trained fighters, but their scars suggest experience at least, even if it is in just your typical street fight.'

That was good from a general viewpoint, but Eliot would need to go deeper, and look at these guys individually if he wanted a chance at winning. He needed to find something, a weakness maybe, something he could exploit should the fight call for it, something like... 'Huh, the guy on the left is favoring his left arm a little. Probably injured. Could be an easy takedown.'

'Ok, so I know who I'm against, that's good, but it still don't tell me how I'm supposed to take them down with my body the way it is. At least they won't be expecting much.' The lean the hitter was placing against his cane was really only partly necessary, with his left leg managing to take more of the pressure off than needed. The shaking hand was another added feature, a ploy that would hopefully lull their attackers into a false sense of assurance. It was just how Sophie had taught him, 'use your weaknesses in a way that gives you strength. Make your enemy think less of you so that when you do strike, they are unprepared for the attack.' She meant it as a character exercise, teaching Eliot different ways to use his disabilities when conning people. But it would work now just as well.

Still, that didn't help with the fact that he was weaker now, that his leg and arm wouldn't be able to move fast enough, with enough force or dexterity to really help in a fight. But maybe he didn't need that. 'What is it Benny always say's? "Just take your time Eliot, make the world wait for you for a change. You disserve it."' and although part of that sentiment was always lost on the hitter, the bit about waiting did make a lot of sense. 'My main difficulty comes from not being able to move well enough, so why not wait patiently and let them come to me? It'll put me in the more dominant position, letting me control the space more and it lets my body focus on just reacting. I don't need to go after them.' As for the fighting itself, yeah it was going to be different, he couldn't rely on his strength on his right side or his quick skills with a paring knife, but he wasn't completely useless. Parker and Hardison had taught him that, taking time out of their busy schedules to sit with the hitter and work out new ways to do the things he loved and needed. With every complication Eliot faced the two thieves considered his limitations, but never submitted to them. 'If I can pick a lock with one hand, I can certainly disarm a low-rent thug wielding a pocketknife.'

Eliot then chuckled for a moment as a realization dawned on him.

'It's just like my daddy told me. All I need to do is adapted to survive.

Turning around slightly, the hitter looked into those dark brown eyes he'd never been able to forget.

"You ready, old man?"

"As I'll ever be, son."

"Ok then..." It started with I quick jab from his left to disorientate the first opponent. Despite it now being his strongest hand, Eliot couldn't help but place his stance with his left side to the forefront, therefore putting his weaker hand in the dominant position. In the future, he may want to think about changing that, but for now, he would have to make do. His next step was to sweep his cane out, (making sure to counterbalance beforehand so the extra support wouldn't be missed) sending the thick metal rod into the flailing man's shin. It was a cheap shot, but street fights often had no rules.

With the first guy down, Mr. Clark took the hint and started in with his own guy. He didn't have the training or weapons like his son, but he did have a vague recollection of some bar brawls from his youth. With a sturdy punch to one man's jaw, (thumb under the knuckle boy, unless you want it broken, that was what his father always told him) the older man then turned quickly to dodge a glancing blow coming from his left.

"You alright, pops?"

"Never better, son."

As the fight went on, more punches came the two men's way, as well as some kicks and a few slashes, aimed low at their ribs. That was the part Eliot had been most worried about, not really figuring out how he was going to deal with a knife when it came flying toward him. But as Eliot had surmised, after a bit of experimentation, the hitter had soon figured out a way to disarm them one-handedly, using the handle of his cane as a baton as he rapped it against their wrists. And looking over he could see that his father apparently knew what he was doing as well.

Seeing that these guys weren't messing around, the gang members started coming at them in pairs, eventually focusing their attacks on any weak spots they could find. For the hitter, they noticed his need to return to his cane every few seconds, making his balance shaky, and his endurance questionable. So, they figured, if they could somehow remove the walking stick, that would render him pretty much useless and the fight already won. The older man was even easier, it seemed these two were father and son from the dialogue they were swapping, so taking out the younger would surely make him stop and think about his actions.

Whilst one of the guys distracted the hitter with a few wide haymakers that could easily be avoided, another one went to dive in low, aiming for his cane. It was a good plan, Eliot thought to himself, but they really shouldn't have put 'shoulder guy' in such a vulnerable position.

It only took a quick prod from the stick's rubber end, to have the gang member balking, as he gripped the now clearly dislocated appendage and ran the hell out of there.

"You might wanna' see a doc about that," Eliot shouted, smirking at the look his father gave him, before ducking under yet another wild punch.

Soon the numbers were dwindling, with a few men unconscious whilst the others decided that the pay wasn't worth it. In the end, all that was left was just Dave, standing in front of Eliot with blood dripping from his heavily blackened nose.

"You really wanna try this again?" The hitter asked him, his head nodding to the few men that were still laying around them. "There's no shame in admitting defeat, son."

"No way. I ain't goin' down to no cracker and his old man." He stumbled a moment, reaching down for one of the dropped knives. "Now come face, if you're not too scared."

Eliot really didn't want the hurt this dumb kid, but he really wasn't leaving him with much choice. Although thinking about it now, the hitter wasn't in the best position to fight this guy off. He needed a knife of his own, but there were none close enough for him to reach in time. Unless...

Twisting the handle off of the cane that Nate had gifted him for Christmas, Eliot was suddenly grinning from ear to ear.

"Let's see what you've got."

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Twenty minutes later.

Nate, Sophie, Parker, and Hardison all shot up when they heard the motel room door slowly click open. They knew their teammate and his father had made it out alright thanks to the comm units they were all wearing, but the fight they'd been involved in sounded brutal down the line. A few grunts of pain had come from both men, as well as a sharp intake of breath that had them clutching at their pearls, but there was no word on what had actually happened as of yet, and no assurances to say that they both came out unscathed.

So when they both came through the door, the team couldn't help but jump up and run to them.

"God Eliot, you scared the living crap out of us." Sophie was the first to reach the hitter, enveloping him in a giant hug before checking over thoroughly. "Are you ok? Come here and sit down." She then dragged the man along with her and pushed him onto the bed.

"I'm good Sophie. Just a little achy." It was mostly true, if you ignored the bruised ribs, twisted knee, and a few nasty gash marks on his arms and face, then yeah he was completely fine. "I was actually wondering if I could talk to Nate in private for a moment?"

"Oooh, Nate's in trou-ble." Parker mocked childishly, whilst the grifter and hacker chuckled quietly next to her.

Eliot couldn't help but have his own silent laugh before he restrained himself and took on a more serious tone. "I just want to talk."

So without any further comment, the team (plus Eliot's father) made their way to a second rented room in the same motel, leaving the hitter and the mastermind to talk in peace.

"Eliot, I..."

"No Nate, I think it's time I talk, and you listen." The hitter spoke firmly, lifting himself off of the bed for a moment so he could walk slowly over to the man sitting across the room. "Look, I ain't mad." Eliot decided to establish that first, so the other man could relax a bit during their conversation, as he too tried to settle himself as he leaned against the wall. But the hitter then went on to explain, "don't get me wrong when I first found out you were in danger, I was hopping, and it took some time for me to calm down. But I get why you did it, and I think I even understand to a degree. Seeing me in that hospital bed must have been tough, especially for you having been there before. But Nate, it's not the same. Yes, things looked bad for a while, and I get that I will never be what I used to be, but I'm not like Sam. I can get better, I am getting better, every day."

"I know that, and I'm really proud of you for it."

"But..."

"But I feel like it was my fault alright." The mastermind let out a huge sigh as he sunk further into his seat. "I sent you to that meeting alone, I didn't ask Hardison to do background checks on the guys working for the mark, so it was my fault that you got hurt. And I can't put you back into a situation knowing how dangerous it can be now."

"The work was always dangerous, Nate. I accepted that a long time ago. You know that I was a soldier, that I chose a life that could end far sooner than it should. It's not your fault that I picked this life." Feeling the ache grow inside his supporting hip, Eliot shuffled a few steps over so he could sit in the one remaining chair opposite his mastermind. "Now, I know that I can't be your hitter anymore. And I will help you find someone suitable, who we can trust, but I'm still a part of this crew, Nate no matter what. Because I choose when I leave, and it will be on my own terms. Can we at least agree on that?"

He then turned to face Nate, offering a warm smile that the man then copied.

"Yeah, I think we can agree on that."