Fic: Losing Ground [11]
Fic: Losing Ground [11]
Author: LMX
Fandom: Leverage
Rating: 15 (Hard language)
Pairings: Sophie/Nate, Parker/Hardison
AN: See parts [2] and [3]. Additional author's note - this one has been mostly written for a while, and possibly posting it this late at night is a bad plan, but I'm clearing the decks. This is Parker's lead into this 'verse.
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19]
[11]
Hardison was tempted to make it mandatory that everyone wore a camera on them all the time. There was only so far he could get with putting up cameras on site, and this? This was torture.
He could see the audio frequency monitor flickering into the red on Parker's and Eliot's comms, but other than the first "Hey, you!" his hand-made voice recognition and transcription program hadn't given him anything useful to go on.
Nate and Sophie were wining and dining downstairs as Parker and Eliot infiltrated the roof, and he had eyes on them, and nice accurate transcription of both of their conversations. For Parker and Eliot though... all he had was a text window full of sound-junk that was probably a fight in progress.
He held his breath as the transcription picked up on Parker calling out Eliot's name. Calling, or saying, or screaming or whispering, there was too much other noise going on to determine the volume of just that one word. Both Sophie and Nate had hesitated, glancing at each other across the room. Loud enough to draw attention, at least, or urgent enough. The two downstairs excused themselves, heading outside together, pressed together in the hallway so as not to draw attention.
"Hardison." Nate said, already pulling his phone from his pocket, answering the text call as soon as Hardison made it.
'Fighting? No eyes on them.' he typed.
"We've been hearing the fight. Parker just shouted..." The transcription on his screen stopped there, and Hardison wondered if the system had crashed, but in Eliot and Parker's windows the dialogue was still running fine. Nonsense, but still running.
He glanced over to the monitors, only to find Nate and Sophie running out of sight of his cameras. Maybe Nate had cut himself off. Maybe they'd heard something else. Nate hadn't hung up the text-call on his phone, but he wasn't going to look at it while he was running. He looked back over to Eliot and Parker's transcriptions from the roof, searching for clues.
His eyes ran over the last few noises, sounding them out in his head and trying to make sense of them. A repeated phoneme caught his attention and he frowned. The transcribed sound came up as 'arka' and 'arca', and it came up again and again, once with a preceding P, in amongst the other noises.
He didn't have to think too long to work out what it was. Eliot, who he hadn't heard speak since his tongue was cut out more than a year ago, was trying to call Parker's name.
The audio frequency monitor hit the red across the board three time and then stilled, transcription not spewing fighting noises any more. Hardison held his breath, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement of an outcome. He hoped to God those last few spikes hadn't been gunshots.
"Fuck." the transcription read off. "Fuck."
Hardison's heart hit the deck.
"Eliot." Nate's voice, reading out on all four transcripts. They were all on the roof. Thank god. "Hardison, ambulance. Eliot, you need to get out of here, you look like you were involved. I know, I know. I'll take over."
Cameras, Hardison resolved. He was planting motherfucking cameras on them and if they didn't like it they could just... He didn't bother with dispatch, just hacked the details straight into the ambulance cab's messaging system. He waited for the ping-back message confirming which vehicle had picked up and then blocked all other incoming radio traffic to that ambulance so that dispatch couldn't demand to know where they were going and why. Cameras from now on. No debate, no questions.
He turned his attention back to the transcripts, knowing there was nothing he could do to speed things up now that help was on the way.
"You're alright, sweetheart. We've got you now." he read, Sophie's voice. It was on Nate's and Parker's transcripts, but not Eliot's. He must have separated from the others. There wasn't anything on his transcript but the word 'fuck' over and over. Apparently, having found a word he didn't have any problem pronouncing, he was sticking with it.
Hardison compiled a quick mock-up of medical insurance for Parker's alias, appropriate to the suspended job, and included one for Eliot just in case before buzzing them to all four phones. He added a message to Nate on the open line: 'Shelby came to roof for air, was attacked by unknown assailant, short blond hair, glasses. Police aware and on their way. Tell me what the fuck is going on, PLEASE.' before closing it.
"Eliot." Nate's voice on the comms. "Get to the ground and out without being seen. Update Hardison as soon as you're clear. Do not drive if you're concussed. Find somewhere safe and Sophie will pick you up."
Eliot's comm had gone silent again. The audio frequency monitor flickered, but nothing defined as voices came up on the screen. Hardison waited patiently. Infinitely fucking patiently, and wasn't that the word of the day. Waited until he wanted to scream.
When Eliot's message opened on his screen he wanted to go back to the torture of not knowing, because this was so much worse.
'Meathead grabbed her neck. Looked broken. Kept her straight, but no guarantees. She was conscious, but some trouble regulating breathing. Really fucking bad sign.'
It hadn't got much better from there.
-
Masterpost
Author: LMX
Fandom: Leverage
Rating: 15 (Hard language)
Pairings: Sophie/Nate, Parker/Hardison
AN: See parts [2] and [3]. Additional author's note - this one has been mostly written for a while, and possibly posting it this late at night is a bad plan, but I'm clearing the decks. This is Parker's lead into this 'verse.
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19]
[11]
Hardison was tempted to make it mandatory that everyone wore a camera on them all the time. There was only so far he could get with putting up cameras on site, and this? This was torture.
He could see the audio frequency monitor flickering into the red on Parker's and Eliot's comms, but other than the first "Hey, you!" his hand-made voice recognition and transcription program hadn't given him anything useful to go on.
Nate and Sophie were wining and dining downstairs as Parker and Eliot infiltrated the roof, and he had eyes on them, and nice accurate transcription of both of their conversations. For Parker and Eliot though... all he had was a text window full of sound-junk that was probably a fight in progress.
He held his breath as the transcription picked up on Parker calling out Eliot's name. Calling, or saying, or screaming or whispering, there was too much other noise going on to determine the volume of just that one word. Both Sophie and Nate had hesitated, glancing at each other across the room. Loud enough to draw attention, at least, or urgent enough. The two downstairs excused themselves, heading outside together, pressed together in the hallway so as not to draw attention.
"Hardison." Nate said, already pulling his phone from his pocket, answering the text call as soon as Hardison made it.
'Fighting? No eyes on them.' he typed.
"We've been hearing the fight. Parker just shouted..." The transcription on his screen stopped there, and Hardison wondered if the system had crashed, but in Eliot and Parker's windows the dialogue was still running fine. Nonsense, but still running.
He glanced over to the monitors, only to find Nate and Sophie running out of sight of his cameras. Maybe Nate had cut himself off. Maybe they'd heard something else. Nate hadn't hung up the text-call on his phone, but he wasn't going to look at it while he was running. He looked back over to Eliot and Parker's transcriptions from the roof, searching for clues.
His eyes ran over the last few noises, sounding them out in his head and trying to make sense of them. A repeated phoneme caught his attention and he frowned. The transcribed sound came up as 'arka' and 'arca', and it came up again and again, once with a preceding P, in amongst the other noises.
He didn't have to think too long to work out what it was. Eliot, who he hadn't heard speak since his tongue was cut out more than a year ago, was trying to call Parker's name.
The audio frequency monitor hit the red across the board three time and then stilled, transcription not spewing fighting noises any more. Hardison held his breath, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement of an outcome. He hoped to God those last few spikes hadn't been gunshots.
"Fuck." the transcription read off. "Fuck."
Hardison's heart hit the deck.
"Eliot." Nate's voice, reading out on all four transcripts. They were all on the roof. Thank god. "Hardison, ambulance. Eliot, you need to get out of here, you look like you were involved. I know, I know. I'll take over."
Cameras, Hardison resolved. He was planting motherfucking cameras on them and if they didn't like it they could just... He didn't bother with dispatch, just hacked the details straight into the ambulance cab's messaging system. He waited for the ping-back message confirming which vehicle had picked up and then blocked all other incoming radio traffic to that ambulance so that dispatch couldn't demand to know where they were going and why. Cameras from now on. No debate, no questions.
He turned his attention back to the transcripts, knowing there was nothing he could do to speed things up now that help was on the way.
"You're alright, sweetheart. We've got you now." he read, Sophie's voice. It was on Nate's and Parker's transcripts, but not Eliot's. He must have separated from the others. There wasn't anything on his transcript but the word 'fuck' over and over. Apparently, having found a word he didn't have any problem pronouncing, he was sticking with it.
Hardison compiled a quick mock-up of medical insurance for Parker's alias, appropriate to the suspended job, and included one for Eliot just in case before buzzing them to all four phones. He added a message to Nate on the open line: 'Shelby came to roof for air, was attacked by unknown assailant, short blond hair, glasses. Police aware and on their way. Tell me what the fuck is going on, PLEASE.' before closing it.
"Eliot." Nate's voice on the comms. "Get to the ground and out without being seen. Update Hardison as soon as you're clear. Do not drive if you're concussed. Find somewhere safe and Sophie will pick you up."
Eliot's comm had gone silent again. The audio frequency monitor flickered, but nothing defined as voices came up on the screen. Hardison waited patiently. Infinitely fucking patiently, and wasn't that the word of the day. Waited until he wanted to scream.
When Eliot's message opened on his screen he wanted to go back to the torture of not knowing, because this was so much worse.
'Meathead grabbed her neck. Looked broken. Kept her straight, but no guarantees. She was conscious, but some trouble regulating breathing. Really fucking bad sign.'
It hadn't got much better from there.
-
Masterpost