[Fic] The Old Sins Job (PG-13) [2/2]
Part 1 here
Sophie's eyes flickered to the distance. Nate uncrossed his arms and straightened, and started to move as if coming towards them.
"We've got to go!" Astrid tugged at Sophie's arm, and started to run without her. Sophie and Parker exchanged a glance, and followed her. "This way! We need some distance!"
"What is it?" Sophie said, as Parker unsuccessfully muffled the grin she wanted to make. This was just Nate's style-testing Astrid to see what her reactions would be like. It made sense. It was nice to see how much Astrid trusted them, to turn them away from who she thought was an enemy.
"Don't you recognise him? That's Nathan Ford, the guy I used to work with. This way!" Astrid turned at a junction, and pushed through, heading back the way they came. Sophie and Parker followed silently, until Sophie was sure they were retracing their steps.
"Are we heading for the main door?"
"We are," Astrid said. "Nate would expect it."
"So we're going the way he's expecting us to go?"
"Yes. Because he saw me. I know he did. See the way he straightened up and uncrossed his arms? That's him being slightly baffled. Come on!" Astrid led the way across the thin walkway in between machinery, some guys watching them, bemused rather than surprised. Nate must have warned them, Sophie thought with a grin. She hoped one day her mind might be as sharp as his to think about all possibilities in a con, because-as much as she hated to admit it-like Parker, before Nate came into their lives and into their cons, she missed things.
"So why aren't we going to, I don't know, a side door?" Parker said, as if they were just on a stroll, not running full pelt through the factory.
"Because that's what we should be doing. He knows I'd expect him to notice I'd notice him, and he'd expect me to know I'd know what he would expect us to do."
Sophie's brain wasn't functioning, or Astrid's logic was insane. She wasn't sure which. "Huh?"
"Look, the main door isn't obvious. Which is why he'd expect me to go for it. Because who in their right mind goes for the front door? But then he'd expect me to know I would expect him to think of going for the front door. So in a post-ironic way, I should go for the side door, the regular expected exit. But then he'd be expecting that. So... the front door. He won't be expecting it."
"My head hurts," Parker said.
Astrid put on a burst of speed from who knew where, and Sophie and Parker matched it, even though they knew there was nothing to run from. Sophie gestured at Parker to let Astrid keep the lead, and they stayed behind her. As they ran past the startled receptionist and out into the daylight, Sophie blinked furiously to adjust to the sudden wash of natural light, and she heard clapping, and skidded to a halt just behind Astrid.
Nate was stood calmly in front of them, clapping his hands. As if he was mocking them. He'd got there ridiculously quickly.
"How-" Sophie blurted. Parker dug her in the side with two fingers and glanced pointedly back at the building. A trail of black rope carved the outside of the white building in half. Sophie relaxed. Nate knew Astrid, had trained Astrid, and apparently still knew how she thought.
"We are screwed," Astrid murmured under her breath, smiling tightly at Nate. "Thisis Nathan Ford. Nathan Ford. I know you guys know what this means. IYS' biggest and brightest and we are screwed."
"Ssshhhh," Sophie said, because it was probably the right thing to do in the circumstances.
Nate stopped clapping and look at Astrid amiably, almost blankly; those light blue eyes of his inscrutable against the glare of sunlight. "Nice company you're keeping these days, Alexander."
"I'm- I'm-" As Nate moved closer, Astrid took a deep breath and mirrored Sophie's expression, folding her arms and glaring at him. Her voice strengthened. "I'm working with the New York branch, covering some... special acquisitions by one of our clients," Astrid said. "They wanted me to go over some security details, so I hired some experts you might recognise."
"Like I would ever forget Sophie Devereaux," Nate replied smoothly, his eyes flickering over Sophie like... Sophie bristled. It was like they were back to where they were, and that insane dance they used to do. Still do, Sophie's brain interjected. You still do that same dance, only the steps are a thousand times more complicated. It was almost predatory the way Nate looked at her. Like he owned her. Sophie shouldn't like that feeling, she really shouldn't. Her face warmed a little and she tilted her chin defiantly. "And Parker. I'm to believe you found Parker, and haven't gotten her arrested?" He tilted his head at Astrid. "Perhaps her insanity is catching?"
"I'm very contagious," Parker said seriously, baring her teeth and nodding.
"I'd agree with you there. Three years working with you and I still can't get rid of you." Nate grinned suddenly, and his entire posture changed, and suddenly he was Nate again, brisk businesslike Nate, not the shadow of his old IYS self. He stepped forward into Sophie's space, glancing at her directly. "How's Hardison?"
"Whining like a baby," Sophie said, rolling her eyes and turning towards the building. Nate and Parker matched her immediately. "He'll live," she allowed. "Eliot shook a doctor at the ER until he told him Hardison would 100% be fine."
"Great. I'm just going to show you where the party's going to be, where we're going to put the statue up, brief Astrid on her role a little..." Nate stopped still, about a metre away from entering the building, and he smiled, enigmatically.
Sophie and Parker paused with him, wearing identical frowns.
"Wha-" Parker started. Sophie put a finger to her lips. Nate mouthed, "Three... two... one..."
"YOU?"
"She gets a little vocal when she's upset," Nate said, not even bothering to lower his voice.
"You freaked me out! And you're- you're their freaking mastermind! No wonder they kept calling you N- N- number one!" Astrid stomped closer. Nate turned to stare at her, hands in his pockets and he shrugged. Then he glanced sidelong at Sophie.
"N-N- number one?"
Sophie shrugged. "It took a little while to adjust."
"Ahuh," Nate said, in that tone which meant he would deal with it later. Sophie was okay with that tone, because later meant after the con, and after the con meant Nate was drinking, and that meant Sophie had a thousand more valid comebacks than Nate ever had.
"How?" Astrid said, finally, her eyes scraping his face as if looking for an answer, one Nate wasn't willing to give.
"Let's just say IYS isn't the impeccable employer they once were and leave it at that for now, hmm? We're on a deadline and the clock is ticking." Nate stared at Astrid, impassive. Sophie was a master of body language, and Astrid's shock and surprise was clear all over her body and expression. Eventually something in Nate's face softened her, and Astrid shook herself.
"Okay, let's do this," Astrid said, still sounding somewhat bewildered.
"Okay." Nate leaned in closer to Astrid, and in a very quiet voice said, "We'll have time later. I'll explain when these two aren't around."
And even though Nate meant it in a friendly way, a way to bind Astrid to them with this new development, it stung Sophie to hear Nate refer to them as 'these two'. She pushed down that resentment, and focussed on the con. The sooner it was finished, the sooner they could go back to where they belonged-looking after Hardison-and the sooner this woman was out of their lives and back where she belonged too.
- - - -
Sophie was still silently seething as eleven o' clock rolled around and she was sat next to Parker's empty chair in a line up of what Bratt would think were new potential PAs. Parker was the first called to interview. Bratt hadn't been so enraged as Sophie would have thought, although from the way she had seen him shout at a couple of the other admin girls already, he had at least one visible streak of unpleasantness.
She pushed it aside, irritated at herself, and took a deep breath, settling into her character for the day. The door opened. Sophie raised her head, but didn't stare at him-some Marks saw an open glare as a challenge and were less inclined to welcome in a stranger into their life.
"It was a... pleasure," Bratt managed, a noticeable twang in his accent. His profile had said he was from North Dakota, but there was a hint of a Queens accent in there. Possibly his mother or father had a strong accent which had rubbed off on him.
Parker grinned at him, somewhat awkwardly.
"Just fill in the forms as we discussed and I'll inform you by the end of the day if you're successful," Bratt said, in a tone which clearly indicated she was not. Sophie shared a brief smile with one of the candidates to her right. She should feel a little guilty these women thought they had a chance, but interview practice was always a good thing, and Sophie had other things to feel guilty about. "Miss..." Bratt looked down at the clipboard in his hand with the list of candidates on Nate had faxed over to the reprographics department, and delivered to Bratt's hand through a series of office messengers. "Brent?"
Sophie was already gracefully out of the seat even as he hesitated, and she caught his eyes and held them with her own as he lowered the clipboard. "Amelia," she said, in the best Queens accent she could manage. She'd spent a week in that part of New York a while ago, and she hadn't used the accent much. She had used it on one con in Israel. Nate had nearly caught her there. The accent came flooding back much more easily. "Please call me Amelia."
She swept him a devastating smile, and touched him on his elbow, exposing her wrists to him, the universal human symbol of I trust you. Bratt smiled back at her. "Please come into my office."
Sophie inclined her head, and followed him. As she turned to close the door, she smiled through the gap at Parker, and let it shut.
When it closed, she turned and allowed herself a second to survey the office. A picture of Bratt and an elderly woman was prominent on his desk. Sophie matched fourteen identical facial landmarks between them-obviously related. Probably his mother. She also caught the flash of blue in his intray. Parker had slipped the magazine advertising Hardcorp into there flawlessly. Sophie was thankful they'd decided not to put the glossy picture of "Mr. Hardwick" as Hardison had wanted them to.
"So, Amelia. Please, take a seat." Bratt's eyes moved from Sophie's face to the curves she deliberately put on display.
"I think I will."
Bratt's expression as she sashayed across the floor and perched on the side of his desk was amusing, if nothing else. Sophie smiled at him. From a distance, he didn't look half bad-a sweep of dark hair, brown eyes, tanned skin-but close up his flaws were obvious. The sag of skin. The hint of grey at his roots betraying his dyed hair. His too-perfect teeth (obviously dentures.) Still, he had money, and the character Sophie was playing liked money too. "Miss Brent," Bratt started.
"Amelia, I insist." Sophie held her sugary sweet expression. "You're going to hire me, of course. The other girls out there are just secretaries. You can tell it by their flimsy wrists, their bad postures. Those girls aren't used to running around, catering to their boss's every..." Sophie's eyes trailed deliberately just for a second to where she assumed his crotch was, under the sag of material. Her eyes flickered back up to his. "Whim." She smiled, showing all teeth. "I know how this company works, and better, I know how your biggest rival operates. Hardcorp. I got them to where they are now, and if Hardwick's hands weren't quite so... wrinkled, if you get my drift... well, I probably still would have left, working for you, the biggest star of the sector, well, that's the dream, isn't it? And I've woken up, Mr. Bratt. I've woken up and I know I can make your dreams come true. With my able assistance and timely approach to things."
She leaned in closer, just the right distance to put her at the edge of his personal space.
"Miss Brent," Bratt started.
"Amelia," Sophie interrupted.
"I'm sorry, I haven't even heard of my... how did you put it? Biggest rival?" Bratt made a sound in his throat, half-laugh, half-breath.
Sophie pulled back, rearranging her face into a question. She turned her head, and pretended to be rummaging through his in tray, even though she knew exactly where the magazine was. He made a sound of surprise and displeasure, which halted as she yanked the magazine out, the HARDCORP logo emblazoned on the front, declaring it the hottest company since Brattcom and Whitcom combined.
Bratt's mouth went a little slack as he took it from her, his fingers ghosting the surface. "And you-" he started.
"I'm the one who got him where he is now. I'm the one with the contacts, the knowhow. And I'm leaving him to work for you." Sophie made sure Bratt's eyes were on hers.
"I- Yes, Miss. Brent. Yes, I think-"
Sophie grinned at the sudden sound of commotion outside. Everything had been timed perfectly, not even an earpiece was necessary. Nate said they distracted her-precise timing was better. Sophie didn't mind. She was good at making sure things happened when they should happen, and so apparently was Astrid - this commotion was right on time.
"Excuse me," Bratt said, rising to his feet. Sophie followed him, tailing him.
Outside, Astrid was being held back by a couple of security guards. She looked furious. Nate was right. She could play a part in a con quite nicely.
"I'm just here to deliver an invitation," Astrid said, crossly, eyeballing each of the huge guards.
"Let her go," Bratt said. "It's not like she's harmful or anything."
Astrid wrestled herself free. She smoothed down her suit and held an envelope out in her right hand. Sophie smoothly intercepted it, pulling it open. Bratt raised his eyebrows at her. "It's an invitation. Mr. Hardwick of Hardcorp is throwing a party at 7pm tonight in his factory, and you and a guest are invited for drinks and canapés. Sounds delightful." Sophie leaned over and pulled the PDA slightly showing from Bratt's front jacket pocket out. He made a soft sound of surprised. Sophie tapped on it as if she was bored. "You've got a meeting at six with Stevenson Inc. but I'll reschedule it for you." She leaned in. "You'll want to check the opposition out, after all."
"Of course. Um. Please see to that for me immediately, Miss. Brent." Bratt coughed loudly. Sophie inclined her head obsequiously and disappeared into his office. She listened in to the con as she knelt down under his desk to where his computer was, just in case there was anything decent in his computer that could help send him down. She knocked her knee on something underneath there, something metallic, and she glanced down at it, annoyed, before pushing the USB pen into the back of his computer so they could pick up his information remotely. She cloned the PDA, found Stevenson Inc.'s number and quickly dialled it, keeping one ear open to hear everything going on outside.
"You're a piece of work, Mr. Bratt." Astrid's voice was strident, and there was a hint of an accent in her voice too, something Sophie couldn't quite make out. She'd figure it out later. It didn't matter at the moment. "I know you set me up. I can't prove it, but I know it. I'm going to enjoy watching Hardcorp grind your ass into dust."
"I'm sure that's not going to happen, Miss. Alexander. I hope you can get used to disappointment. It's been no trouble for you in the past, I know."
Bratt was a complete jerk. Sophie got through to Stevenson Inc. and perfunctorily cancelled the meeting, not even bothering to reschedule it. She typed in a time on the PDA anyway as she put the phone back in the cradle. If for some reason this con didn't work, Bratt would get pissed off at them not showing up, so it was a small win in the face of potential failure. Sophie tried to find as many as possible just in case. Nate didn't know. Well, he probably did, but he was nice enough not to say anything. It's not like he trusted her 100% either, or she'd know who the woman was they'd seen him with.
"Well. I'm afraid I'll probably see you tonight. And, even though you don't deserve it, I'll give you a warning. That girl, the tiny one, filling out the forms? I don't know what she's after, but you must have something expensive in your safe, because that's Parker."
Sophie pushed open the door, holding out Bratt's PDA. "Parker? The renowned uncatchable jewel thief Parker?" Sophie's eyes went wide. Bratt glanced from Astrid, to Sophie, to Parker, who looked like a rabbit caught in headlights.
"Parker," Astrid said, adjusting her frosty stare to Parker's direction.
There was a blur of movement. Sophie didn't often get to see Parker's disappearing act, usually because it was a kind of blink-and-you-miss it gig, so Parker must have slowed down... fractionally. Enough for the security guards still menacingly framing the door to grab her.
Parker allowed them to turn her, stony-faced and scowling, and she glowered at Bratt.
"You here for my unbreakable safe, right?" Bratt's eyes were harsh. " Guys, put her back in my office. Amelia, help them restrain her. I trust it won't be a problem. And Alexander," Bratt raised his voice. "Get the hell off my property."
"Immediately," Astrid said, not looking at all impressed.
"I look forward to it," Sophie said in a low voice. Parker aimed a kick at her as the guards pushed her into the office. Sophie decided she probably deserved it.
Bratt came into the office a moment later, just in time for Sophie to slip the plastic restraints over Parker's wrist, locking her to the chair. He looked pleased, but instead of going for his chair, he leaned against the wall, against one of his bookcases. Sophie hadn't really noticed them, but as she straightened up and leaned as provocatively as she could manage against the back wall, she knew Parker had. What would have made Parker notice the bookcase? Sophie caught it the moment before Bratt revealed it-the hint of metal at the base. The bookcase moved.
Bratt swung it to the side in a perfect semi-circle, revealing a black shiny door behind it, a small keypad to one side. Sophie's stomach swooped and she forced herself to stay still. It was the safe.
"This is the pride and joy of my whole company," Bratt said. "The place I keep the secret of my blossoming success. I want to employ you, Parker. I will pay you $100,000 to try and open this safe."
"You want me to open your safe? Your safe that contains all your deepest, darkest secrets?" Parker sounded shocked. "I can do that."
Bratt laughed. "I don't think so. I'll pay you either way, though. But if you can't do it by 6.30pm, you have to accompany me to an event tonight. Just as a guest, just to help me scope out my rival's business address from a... professional's point of view, if you get what I mean."
Parker paused as if to think about it.
"Or I could call the cops and get you arrested," Bratt said.
Parker laughed.
"He's not to know you let yourself be caught, Parker," Nate's voice commanded. Sophie really had to fight not to jump, because she'd almost forgotten he was there. It always startled her, both when it came out of nowhere, and how much she liked having his voice so comfortingly close when she needed it. Once upon a time, Nate had talked to her as if he was already this close to her, as if he knew how her brain worked on every level. Now he didn't even have to use that massive brain of his to pick her apart. He just knew her that well now. Knew her too well.
Parker's face darkened automatically at his reminder. She listened to him too much, too trustingly. It worried Sophie a little, particularly with how she was raised; listening to Archie's every command. But every now and again, Parker would speak up for herself, sticking to her convictions, and it was enough to let the worries sleep for a while.
"So what will it be?"
Parker grinned at him. "I'll need some lock picks. And a spanner."
"Amelia, find out the kind she needs. Source them. Immediately. I want them in her hands by 1pm. You two..." Bratt moved closer to the security guards and lowered his voice. "Watch her like a hawk. See she doesn't talk to anyone. And do not let her escape. I've heard of this girl and she's the best. Be better, or be unemployed. Capiche?"
Bratt stepped back, his eyes ice-cool. Sophie swallowed.
"And Amelia, dismiss the other candidates. You're hired." Bratt smiled at her, curling a hand around her hip, his fingers grazing her rear. Sophie thought of Nate's voice, calm in her ear, and it was enough-she smiled up at him through her eyelashes.
"Right away, sir," she purred. Bratt smiled, and crossed over to his chair, and started to quiz Parker on her desired equipment. Sophie took notes, and tried not to shudder at his smug expression. He was ruthless, and obviously used to dirty tactics, because who gave plastic restraints to their security? Who found out they had the best thief in the world and hired them immediately? The kind of idiot that hires Grifters like you without noticing they're being played, Sophie thought fiercely, hurrying off once she had the right information to get Parker's tools.
"We'll bring him down, Sophie," Nate's voice said, comfortingly. Yet again, he was right in her ear, right on the track of thoughts that Sophie was travelling, and she should have felt like he was closer than ever. But she remembered the strange woman's hands in his hair, and the way he had talked to Astrid, and the awkward tension between them ever since San Lorenzo, and she felt further away from him than ever.
- - - -
Sophie, of course, was the one left cramped in the van come the party at 7pm. Parker actually tried her best to crack the HB safe. Sophie was impressed at the glimpses she caught of the thief in action. She'd often suspected Parker had learned an ounce of kindness and had been suppressing her skills in front of them so as not to frighten them and her suspicions seemed close to the mark. Parker was amazing. Her fingers moved so fast Sophie could barely see them, and still, it wasn't enough. Bratt just looked more and more pleased the more Sophie saw him, as she hurried in and out doing mindless errands one after another. No wonder his last PA skimmed money from the company. I hope she spends it on a plane ticket to somewhere a million miles away from him.
Hardison came out of surgery about three hours before and was asleep. Eliot had to take his place in the con inside the party, leaving Hardison unattended. Ideally Sophie could have played her part at his bedside, as she was basically just monitoring comms and the security cameras. It wasn't her favorite kind of job, but Astrid was in the part she might have normally played, and Sophie was trying her best not to be jealous. Because jealousy, as much as Sophie hated to admit it, jealousy was definitely one of her less flattering impulses at the moment.
Plus, Hardison was right. Lucille-even this version of her-was pretty rank.
Still, at least she got to play Nate's role, sitting and watching the action and getting to be the one that suggested things from on high. The rush of power made up some for the bad smell and slightly stale cereal which was somehow always the only snack available in any of their vans.
Bratt wasn't there yet. He seemed like the kind to make an entrance, and Parker's interview outfit probably wasn't up to his sensibilities. She hoped there hadn't been any casualties when Bratt insisted on taking her shopping for a dress. Parker got pretty violent when pushed into anything that wasn't trousers, which was why it was pretty much just an annual occurrence.
Sophie cycled through the cameras. The sculpture Hardison had made was prominent in the store room Nate had made into a party room for the night. There were still cardboard boxes in there, but hidden by some gauzy material, and there were enough security cameras for Sophie to see everything that was going on.
Eliot was leaning against a wall, looking unhappy, but Sophie didn't reckon anything was amiss from the con-it was his default con expression.
Sophie watched as Astrid crossed the floor to where Nate was leaning against a wall, waiting for Bratt to show up.
"So you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?"
Sophie leaned in closer, straining at the screen, wishing she could read more of Nate's expression. His tight voice was all the clue she could really get to his emotions.
"I don't know what you mean," Nate replied. His tone was off kilter, wavering. Sophie wanted to be there, to hold his hand. She couldn't do it physically, but she could do it vocally. After all, wasn't she in his head as much as he was in hers? Or maybe it was wishful thinking. Either way, she wasn't helpless, as long as she was connected to him and had her voice.
"I'm right here, Nate. You're not alone."
He didn't reply to her. Sophie was almost surprised, but Nate seemed reluctant to let Astrid know about the earpieces. Then again, he did like to have a back up plan or two in place. Or thirty, if he could manage it.
"Let's see if I can understand this," Astrid said. Sophie could see her lean against the wall, mimicking Nate's position exactly. Sophie froze a little at that-mirroring was a Grifter thing, to gain someone's trust... but then again, she was emotionally involved in this, and was probably reading too much into things. Hardison had triple checked her online. "Your pupils aren't dilated."
"Should they be?" Nate replied.
"You're popping Tylenol like it's going out of fashion." Astrid said. Her voice was fainted, not so close to the earpiece, but it was clear enough to make Sophie think over Nate's actions over the last few days. She'd only seen him take a headache tablet once, but Nate was practiced in hiding alcohol by now. He could easily hide swallowing a tablet every so often. "Which means you've got a persistent headache. But your eyes are proof you haven't been drinking heavily today. You're not sweating, either."
Nate just stared at her. It was his silent go on. Sophie found herself opening her mouth to tell Astrid, then she remembered she couldn't as Astrid wouldn't hear her, and then she remembered Astrid had known Nate for longer than she ever had. She had more of a claim over him than she did, and she would know Nate's verbal clues-or lack of.
"You quit IYS to lead a merry band of crooks, which means hell must have happened on Earth, you're not wearing your wedding band, you rarely smile unless it's at Parker-you're seeing her as some sort of second chance, which means something happened to Sam." Astrid's voice hitched at that. She was good. Really good. "So, you started drinking, lost your job, lost Maggie, found a new direction in life... and now you're starting to grieve properly, you want to be around for these people. But it's been a long time in the trenches. Those DTs are pretty bad."
Wait, what? What did she say? Sophie stared at the screen, trying to gauge Nate's reaction. DTs? Was Astrid right? She watched as Nate took hold of his left hand with his right, eyeing it in exaggerated scorn for a moment, as if blaming it for betraying him. He looked away from her, and into some imaginary point in the distance. "I raised a monster when I trained you."
His voice was calm, casual, and then his eyes flickered up to the security camera just for a second, like he was staring at Sophie. He knew she was watching. Sophie swallowed as silently as she could.
Earlier, when she came upon him in the apartment, worrying, she had thought his trembling was over indulgence. Could he really be working to overcome something he had been so careful not to undo for the last five years?
"Leukaemia," Nate said, after he looked away from defiantly staring at Sophie through the security camera. "Stage 4 leukaemia. Blackpoole refused to pay for Sam's treatment. I couldn't-" Work for IYS any more is how the sentence should end, but finish his sentence works just as well. Astrid's intake of breath is loud enough to be picked up by Nate's earpiece.
"So you want to screw them as much as I do," Astrid said, staring into the party at the people mingling around. Sophie was impressed at how many people were milling around. Nate was really good at this behind-the-scenes stuff. She wondered irreverently if he even needed a crew, and her stomach protested unhappily at the thought. Nate needed them, whether he knew it or not. If not for a con, for his life and his sanity.
"Already got Blackpoole in jail," Nate said, unable to halt the fierce grin that always accompanied those words.
Astrid mirrored his grin. "Your team seem very... dedicated."
"They're the best," Nate said, latching onto the change in topic gratefully. He flickered another glance up to the camera and Sophie smiled, pleased. And then she had to definitely put her mind back onto the con because of a certain pleasing movement at the bottom of her screen.
"Nate, Bratt's here. Eliot, get ready to play."
"It's not playing if there's no violence," Eliot grumbled, but he moved further off to one side, loitering around the canapé table.
Sophie leaned forwards on her elbows to watch. This view of a con was actually pretty good; she made a mental note to swap with Hardison more often. She hissed under her breath-perhaps in better circumstances.
Parker looked amazing. Sophie had to suppress a gag as she caught a flash of red at Parker's heels. Bratt bought her Loubotins? Urgh, she totally should have specialised in thievery instead of grifting. It was a good thing Hardison couldn't see her, because he'd probably rip his stitches.
Nate was the first to go talk to Bratt. He was expansive, using that ridiculous accent he had dredged up on several jobs, just on the right edge of eccentric. He played the role well, baiting Bratt to the right amount, bragging about how his company was going to leave Brattcom in the dust, and bragging about the statue before backing up Sophie's cover story with Bratt and pretending to be hands on with Parker.
"No, Parker, you can't stab Nate if he does touch you."
Nate laughed, and thankfully Bratt mistook it for something he'd said. Behind Bratt's back, Parker made a stabbing motion with her hands and glared at one of the cameras.
Astrid pushed in next after Nate sauntered away. Sophie couldn't hear what she said, but Bratt looked suitably enraged. And then, as Bratt seemed to be going with the philosophy he could damage Nate's company by eating everything in sight, Eliot and Nate staged a rather loud argument about how the statue Hardison had made was worth millions and wasn't even fully insured yet, and Nate complained about how if something happened, he'd be footing the bill to his shareholders, and Bratt yanked Parker in close-probably unaware at how close to death he was treading by doing so-and promised her $500,000 if she stole the statue for him, and that was it.
The con was on.
- - - - -
Sophie was waiting for Bratt the next morning at 7am with a cup of coffee and her hand on the button to dial the police. He took the coffee without thanks. Sophie checked for the sign Parker had left them, and pressed it.
The police were there in minutes.
"Mr. Bratt," one of them declared as soon as he was finished spluttering, "you've been accused of kidnapping and theft. Can I please ask you to open your safe?"
"Haven't you got a warrant?"
Sophie had to really fight to suppress the grin she wanted to make. The panicked tone in his voice was one of the best things she'd heard all week.
"If you're innocent," the detective in charge replied, "then we won't need one, will we?"
"It's good practice, show's your open and honest," Sophie said helpfully from the sidelines. "Hardwick's nowhere near as transparent and it's going to ruin him someday."
Bratt edged her a speculative look, shrugged, and pulled open the bookcase to open his safe. Sophie kept track of the process, but it seemed complicated. A number code, a fingerprint scanner, his voice, a retinal scan, and a combination pressure sequence, followed by another number code and a scan of his phone.
The door slid open to an empty room. One of the cops walked in and looked around. Sophie glanced in. She could tell there was a hidden compartment in the safe, and the cop didn't have a clue. She rolled her eyes. Sometimes civilians made it so easy for a dishonest Grifter to make a living.
"See?" Bratt said. "It's perfectly empty."
The detective coughed. "Not that safe."
Bratt frowned at him. "Excuse me?"
Sophie hid a smile. Bratt wouldn't have been so confused, if he had perhaps come back after opening the safe for Parker and the driver (Eliot, of course, with his face covered by a cap and his hair tied back) to heft the statue into his safe and behind the hidden compartment where several other paintings lay. Along with Whitman's $15 million Cezanne. Originally the plan had been just to break down the hidden wall in the safe, but when Sophie knelt down to push the USB in, the thing she knocked her knee against was another safe, probably Bratt's old one before his new unbreakable safe was created. This way was more poetic, a much better payoff, and let Parker have more fun with both safes.
Two of the cops moved his desk to one side, and one of them yanked open the trapdoor covering the safe. The safe below wasn't even locked, it was padlocked. Bratt stared, confused, as the cops brought in lock cutters (it was convenient that the call Nate had placed had indicated they might be required) and opened it. Down in the low room concealed beneath his desk was the statue, the painting, all the other objects...
...and Astrid, bound and gagged.
"But this is impossible," Bratt said, "I never, I couldn't-"
"He did it," Astrid yelled dramatically as soon as she was free. "He bound me up and gagged me and locked me in."
Sticking Astrid down in there for five hours can't have been too pleasant, Sophie mused, but the food and duvet they left her in was hidden inside the statue. It had been easy enough last night to leave Parker in the building. Bratt stormed off, pleased as punch, not noticing that he and Eliot had gone out with Parker, and somehow come back with a blonde-wigged Sophie. The building had locked down behind Bratt, leaving Parker inside the building, and Astrid in the safe climbing out of the statue.
The cops demanded to know how Astrid tied herself up, as it was impossible to tie yourself up the way Astrid was tied; they were unaware that Parker was also hidden inside the statue. As Bratt upstairs made a scene, Parker climbed out in a police uniform, and assisted the other cops in helping Astrid climb out of the hole. Parker yelled, in a gruff accent, about how the painting looked remarkably like Whitman's stolen Cezanne, and as soon as she was near the door, she and Sophie slipped away.
Astrid's statement wouldn't be enough to condemn Bratt to prison as there would not be enough proof he had kidnapped her, but the tabloids somehow miraculously turned up at the scene (Nate was very good at making calls) and the rumors were already spreading far and wide that Bratt had kidnapped someone. Enough people had been at the party to confirm they had seen Bratt and Astrid arguing. His reputation was ruined, and to top things off, his fingerprints were all over the stolen pieces of art.
And best of all, as Astrid joined them at Hardison's bedside, was that IYS had issued her an apology and were taking her back.
"Screw them," Astrid said, sharing a grin with Nate as she rubbed her wrists. She edged a look at Parker. "Did you really have to tie my wrists so hard?"
"I really did," Parker assured her.
"I can't believe this, thank you so much." Astrid perched on the edge of the bed, ruffling Hardison's hair. He made a whimpering sound and Parker bared her teeth at Astrid. Astrid quickly got to her feet. She touched Nate's elbow, guiding him away from them. Sophie tried not to let the jealousy she was feeling show on her face too badly. Eliot put a hand on her shoulder companionably, soothing her.
"I don't know how to repay you," Astrid gushed.
"Go live your life?" Nate said, shrugging. "And we'll be here if you need us."
"You could come with me," Astrid said, quickly, low and urgent. She put her hands on Nate's, and Nate looked at her, almost wistfully. Sophie turned away, feeling like she was intruding too much. "This isn't your life, Nate. You're an honest man, not a criminal."
"They're my family now, Astrid." Nate's voice was firm. Sophie was so trained on him that she could hear him pull her hands from his. "Go home and be safe."
Astrid made a sound in the back of her throat that seemed so suddenly raw, desperate, and Sophie frowned at it. It was so out of place. Like she was about to explode because Nate wouldn't come with her. "You came with me once."
"Astrid-" Nate turned and glanced over at them, and then took Astrid by the elbow, shepherding her out of the room. Sophie watched them go, and watched him talking with her through the small window in the hospital door. He looked tense, but then again they were in a hospital, which twisted things when it came to Nate.
He came back in eventually, looking older, and more tired than she'd ever seen him.
"You okay?"
Nate nodded, looking like he was a million miles away. "She just... sometimes people can't let go of the past. Can't move on."
"And are you? Tempted to move on?" Sophie's question was probably too loud. It had panic in it, and desperation, and was much rawer than Astrid's odd departure. The others turned, questions on their faces.
"Only moving I'm doing is getting Hardison home," Nate said after the longest moment, and he smiled, and Sophie released the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. It felt like she'd been holding it for a very long time.
- - - -
The doctors couldn't discharge Hardison soon enough once Eliot went down and stared at them. They were glad to have Hardison back and were probably too effusive to show him, rigging a bed up in front of the monitors and using extension cables to move Nate's giant fridge with Hardison's lifeline of Orange Squeeze within hands reach.
Sophie leaned back and watched Eliot and Parker bicker with Hardison about who had the most scars, and Hardison was trying to tell Parker it didn't count as breaking in to a safe if you put someone inside it and coached them on how to break out (he was losing) and she tried very hard not to think about how close they came to losing Hardison.
Nate joined her, obviously enjoying the view as much as she did.
Sophie let the moment steep for a while, before leaning in close to him. "I guess the DTs mean the woman we saw you with is your sponsor," Sophie said. She could have hidden that they'd spied on him, of course, but it wasn't the time for secrets. She wanted things open, things worked out, and that meant she had to be the one to open up first.
"You were spying on me," Nate said, almost incredulously, although he had to know the way his team reacted to things by now. He looked at her sideways, and stretched out his hand; it was only vaguely trembling.
"I was jealous; of course I spied on you."
Nate's eyes opened just a little too-wide. He masked it quickly, but Sophie smiled a little. His surprise at her quiet announcement was enough for the moment. It wasn't a declaration of feeling, or a moment of intimacy, but it was enough for her.
It was a step towards the right path, and that was a step closer than any of them had been for a long while.
"I... thought about what you said," Nate said, almost like it was uncomfortable to say.
Sophie thrilled silently, not wanting to push him, so she opted for a gentle opener. "And?"
Okay, so it was a little less than gentle. He could ignore her if he wanted, though.
He didn't.
"I don't like what anyone sees when they look at me," Nate said. "But perhaps a living body is better than glowering unhappily at a corpse."
"I like that option much better," Sophie informed him, turning her face to his. He tipped his face lower, and smiled at her, uneven but honest, and she swallowed, her eyes automatically going to his. His breath, not a hint of alcohol in it, was warm on her face, and Sophie found herself swallowing visibly before she could stop. She remembered their kiss on the Maltese Falcon. She remembered the addictive slide of his hot skin against her body in San Lorenzo, how they moved together, how it seemed like they'd been made to fit against each other, around each other- Her cheeks heated, and he smiled slowly, as if he knew what she was thinking.
The bastard probably did. Irritation clambered in to join with the heady faint arousal curling around the base of her spine, because that was how she'd always felt about Nate. Pissed off to the hilt that he knew her, knew every and any reaction she would make. But completely, absolutely, wholly addicted to him.
And if his trembling fingers lacing with hers, suffusing her with heat, were any possible indication, he felt the same way about her. He leaned in closer. "Is this okay?" he whispered.
Yes, Sophie wanted to say, yes, times a million, infinity, just get on with it already, can't you feel how much I need you? but as usual, the timing was all wrong.
"Guys, guys, I need y'all here to look at this." Hardison's voice broke through the atmosphere between them, and Sophie and Nate lurched at the same time, moving their heads in the direction of the sound. Nate moved first, but he didn't let go of Sophie's hand. She thought for a moment he had forgotten, but he glanced down at her hand for a moment, and his cheeks colored just a tiny bit, and Sophie really had to fight the grin as he let her pull her to the monitors. "I've been tracking various forms of communications, movement of strange money, the like. I automatically have our clients on the list, just as a routine thing, just in case any of them switch on us."
"And?" Nate said, his voice harsh.
"Astrid suddenly had $10 million moved into her account," Hardison said.
Sophie felt Nate go cold. His fingers stiffened around hers, but he didn't remove his hand. "An insurance payment?"
"It came from within..." Hardison's expression creased. "And it's gone already. Shifted to a- the numbers are scrambled, this would take even me a couple of hours on full speed and I'm not on full speed. I'll see if I can get a lock on its source country-" His voice dropped a clean octave as his findings appeared on screen.
"San Lorenzo," Sophie realized, the name coming out stilted, like her body had forgotten how to process oxygen. She remembered a handful of things about Astrid, all at once. Like how Astrid had mentioned Nate a ridiculous amount of times before she was introduced to him again, as if she was obsessed with him. Like that accent she couldn't quite identify, for one, that hint of a voice they had all heard before.
Eliot got to his feet, eyes slitting automatically, hands clenching into fists. "Moreau," he ground out.
Astrid had a hint of Michael Vittori's accent. Buried down deep. If she had spent a long time in San Lorenzo, and had links... Sophie froze as Nate bristled by her side. If Moreau was out, he would want one thing: revenge. Against them. It seemed her father was right, that day long ago, as her mother wilted in the heat, denied shelter from the unforgiving sun.
Old sins did cast long shadows.
--
"Fifteen years. I loved that man for fifteen years and he couldn't spare me a glance. And when he did cheat on his wife, it was figuratively. He gave his 'heart' away. To a Grifter. A common criminal." Astrid's voice was unsteady, rising in pitch.
Moreau let it all wash over him. He'd returned to her the child he'd kidnapped and paid her handsomely too for the pleasure. In return, this Astrid woman had used all her connections, Interpol, IYS, to get him moved by some ex-SAS guys and get him shifted just one country over where extradition laws where alive and thriving. The dirty tactics she had learned from a man named Sterling were key, that and the fact that her rare misdeeds had all been paper based, and Ford's team did all their security checking online. She also gave him in depth knowledge of Ford and his team, and even better, exact knowledge of where Ford's weaknesses lay.
She could rant for hours if she liked. He was free. It was all music to Moreau's ears, because old sins cast long shadows, and Moreau was not the forgiving kind. He remembered, and he waited.
And now the time for waiting was over.
--
Master Post