The apartment was tense, everyone anxiously waiting for Eliot's return. Sophie was lost in thought as she pretended to read a book on the sofa, not that it'd actually be possible with how fast Parker's leg was jiggling. Hardison had been running dead-end searches on his laptop for hours, and got up wordlessly to find some much needed nourishment from the refrigerator. He opened the door and scanned its contents for a few moments before retrieving an item from the top shelf.
"Ooooh, I want some!" Parker jumped up, her sudden exuberance getting everyone's attention.
Sophie leaned over to get a better view before turning back to the thief. "It's butter."
Parker lowered herself back onto the cushion, her excitement only partially fading. "Oh...well I guess who doesn't like butter. Who's it for?"
"Uh, my sandwich." Hardison answered, shaking his head as he added it to the pile of ingredients he'd left on the counter earlier.
Before the discussion went any further the front door opened, Eliot's face livid as he entered the apartment. He slammed the door shut behind himself.
Sophie got up in an instant, throwing her unread book to the side. "Please tell me you got something."
The hitter walked to the kitchen and tossed Nate's keys onto the counter as he answered, his voice full of frustration. "Yeah, a headache."
"Did he say if Nate is..." she trailed off, unable to finish her question.
"No, he didn't."
"Ok," Hardison started, abandoning the unassembled sandwich at the lack of good news. "So what now?"
"You got a secure line?" Eliot asked. "I need to make a few phone calls."
"What do you mean 'do I got a secure line'? Of course I got a secure line. Like twelve of them. What the hell do you think I do all day, bro?"
Parker's voice was optimistic and she bounced her way over to Eliot. "Think you know a way we can find him?"
"Right now, no," Eliot said, not wanting to give the team any false hope. "Too much real estate to cover. But I'm pretty sure I know where he's gonna be."
The other three spoke in unison. "Where?"
Their enthusiasm managed to squeeze the smallest hint of a smile from the hitter. "San Lorenzo."
Parker tilted her head. "How do you know he'll go to San Lorenzo?"
"I don't, for sure." Eliot admitted. "But he'll think if he stays nearby we'll be more likely to find him and he also knows San Lorenzo like the back of his hand. He'll still have resources there that the authorities missed. Hardison..."
"Already on it," the hacker answered, typing furiously at his laptop. "Running a search of every single flight from absolutely anywhere that's headed to San Lorenzo."
"No, we used his flight plan to track him last time," Eliot explained. "He won't make the same mistake again. We'll be looking for a plane that lands last minute and unexpectedly, probably under the guise of engine trouble or low fuel."
Hardison nodded and started to type again, adjusting his search parameters.
"What do we do until then?" Sophie asked.
Eliot didn't' like the answer to that question any more than she did, his mind keeping a careful tally of every hour that passed since Nate had been shot. "We wait."