An uneasy silence filled the car as the streets passed by, each passenger lost in their own thoughts. Heading straight to Moreau's last known location probably screamed 'bad idea' to just about anyone except Eliot, and the hitter was honestly a bit surprised that one of them hadn't asked. Until Hardison spoke, that was.
"Uh, is that safe?"
The hacker's voice was apprehensive, and Eliot gripped the steering wheel tighter as Moreau's words echoed in his head.
"You know how the game is played."
And he knew this game all too well. Knew that Moreau would want him to see firsthand what he'd done. Taunt him. A shiver ran down his spine.
He kept his answer brief. "Yeah, it is."
.
.
.
Eliot knew they'd be walking in to one of two scenarios, neither of which was going to be pleasant. He also knew Moreau and his men would be long gone, but he'd insisted that he go in first, alone, using the team's safety as an excuse.
In all reality, he needed to see the scene before he decided if the others were going to.
The front door was left open, giving the hitter an unhindered view of the apartment. Or what was left of it. Virtually no surface was untouched by the sniper's bullets, and the floor was littered with glass and debris. His eyes stopped at the pool of blood on the living room floor.
Nate's blood.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm the shaking in his hands again. As hard to believe as it seemed, it was the better of the two scenarios. Finding the mastermind's body would've been far, far worse.
Hearing the slightest noise behind him, Eliot turned around to see the rest of the team crowded in the doorway.
"Oh my God," Parker said, covering her mouth as her eyes fixated to the crimson stain on the floor. Sophie and Hardison were at a complete loss for words but Eliot could see the pure shock on their faces as they took in what was in front of them.
The grifter was the first to meet Eliot's gaze, her eyes glistening as she spoke. "Listen, I need you to be straight with us right now. Is he..."
"I don't know," he answered, keeping his voice soft. "I need a minute to think. Go over the scene." The team quieted, giving Eliot the freedom to work. His mind started to analyze the destruction in front of him.
The gunfire wasn't localized, instead the sniper did a sweep of the entire apartment. That meant that Moreau didn't want the gunman to target Nate in a direct assassination, but leave it up to chance if he got caught in the crossfire or not. Having worked with Moreau for years, it was a tactic that Eliot was all too familiar with.
Uncertainty.
If any particular detail didn't matter to his end goal, Moreau would let fate decide what happened. Sometimes it was as simple as heads or tails, other times it might be a bit of off-leash time for one of his favorite dogs. He shuddered at the thought of how many lives were lost to the flip of a golden coin on his former boss's desk.
And for the play Moreau was using now, it didn't matter if Nate was alive or not. The game hinged on the fact that Eliot couldn't be sure either way. That uncertainty is what gave Moreau the upper hand. The man was ruthless when it came to business endeavors, but this was a technique that he reserved only for when he had a personal score to settle.
And this was very, very personal.
He shook his thoughts and continued to scan the room, finding the one item he was looking for among the littered glass on the floor – Nate's phone.
"You don't usually call on your day off."
Eliot flipped it open and immediately checked the notifications, his brows furrowing at what he read.
Eliot
Missed Call (3)
The hitter sighed and closed his eyes. It was a setup alright, just like he thought. Moreau wanted to be absolutely sure that he was on the line with Nate when he made his move.
More thoughts started to swirl in his mind. If he hadn't answered the call, Moreau would've waited. Nate might still be safe. The guilt he felt was hardly bearable.
"What did you find?" Parker asked, her voice surprisingly calm given the circumstances.
"He hacked Nate's phone," Eliot answered. "Sent a missed call message to get him to call me."
Sophie immediately picked up on his wording. "Wait, you talked to Nate?"
Damn it, he thought. Loose lips sink ships. He needed to keep a better handle on what he said.
"That was the extend of it before Moreau came on the line." He avoided the grifter's gaze as he answered, afraid his eyes would give away his true thoughts.
He turned to Hardison, immediately changing the subject. "I need you to check all the hospitals and emergency rooms in a fifty-mile radius for gunshot victims matching Nate's description." He knew damn well that Moreau would never take one of his hostages to public hospital, but if he didn't give Hardison something to occupy his mind the hacker would very likely come unglued. The younger man wasn't used to his thoughts haunting him like Eliot was.
And the thought of what might've just happened haunted him like nothing ever had.
Eliot stopped and took another deep breath, trying to look at the situation objectively and focus on the facts. Moreau didn't leave a body, so there was a chance that Nate was still alive. It all depended on how many bullets he took, where, and whether or not Moreau chose to give him medical treatment. But, he might be alive.
He had to work under that assumption.
