Moreau's Revenge - 001

Aug 09, 2011 17:42

Twelve men to take a single person into custody. To anyone else, it would have seemed like overkill, but these men were not here to collect any ordinary man. They were collecting Eliot Spencer. The mistake most people made in facing the Hitter of the Leverage team was in underestimating him. Even twelve men seemed too small a number. These men ( Read more... )

~damien moreau, - leverage, +r, ~eliot spencer

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distinctive_guy August 9 2011, 22:27:25 UTC

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master_moreau August 9 2011, 22:51:15 UTC
The overconfident gleam in the eyes of the younger Russian who approached Eliot, handcuffs in hand, was unfounded. All of the men were good fighters, but they were not the top fighters. No, Moreau had let another lesser criminal take charge of collecting Eliot. That way, if Eliot escaped or did not comply, it would not be Moreau he traced the trap back to, but a branch of the Russian Mafia. It was good to have so many ties in the Underworld of crime.

"'E does not vant for you to escape quite so easily, da? It took many months to locate you. You are not an easy man to find, Mr. Spencer. Cause quite a bit of trouble for my employer." His accent was lighter than most of his fellows, softened by time living in the states.

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distinctive_guy August 9 2011, 23:04:55 UTC

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master_moreau August 10 2011, 01:31:09 UTC
There is no hesitance in the Russian's movements as he approached to snap the handcuffs on, letting them lock perhaps a little tighter than necessary. One of the other men wanted them cuffed behind his back but made no move to force it. If the man was going to come willingly then there was not much need. He did not even look that tough, really.

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distinctive_guy August 10 2011, 01:44:30 UTC

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master_moreau August 11 2011, 05:25:21 UTC
Unconcerned with his complaints, the younger Russian pushed him along the path towards the jet, unaware of whatever mistakes they might have been making.

"Quid complaining nd move. Ve have long trip back." His accent grew a little thicker as they walked, looking slightly irritated. He just wanted to get this job over with. None of them wanted to be here in this hot, humid, unpleasant country.

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distinctive_guy August 11 2011, 05:37:37 UTC

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master_moreau August 11 2011, 07:41:51 UTC
Rolling his eyes, the Russian hoisted him to his feet, by his arm, pushing him forward again. The sooner they got on the jet, the better. They could leave this stinking country and get rid of the supposedly dangerous man. He didn't seem so tough. He couldn't even walk straight.

The jet was small, private, unmarked. The number on the tail likely a fake number taken from a different plane or falsified. It was small, the perfect type for getting in and out of private runways or short runways in backwater third world countries like this one.

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distinctive_guy August 11 2011, 07:54:29 UTC

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master_moreau August 17 2011, 08:35:49 UTC
It didn't take long for Eliot's questions to get on the nerves of most of the Russians. Less than an hour into the flight they were ready to toss him out of the plane. The older Russian of the group decided he had had enough, and fished out one of the strong sedative darts they had brought along in case the target had had other ideas. With little concern for the other men on the plane he none-to-gently threw it, hitting the hitter in the side of the neck. At least with him out, they could get back to their card games. Whoever this guy really was, the sooner they got rid of him the better. He was someone else's problem.

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distinctive_guy August 17 2011, 08:45:58 UTC

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