Big Bang Fic: The Tangled Web Job, Part 7/10
Title: The Tangled Web Job
Authors: scout_lover and telaryn
Artist: alinaandalion
Disclaimer: Not mine, making no money. I write only from a sad, fannish devotion to the characters created by John Rogers, Chris Downey, Dean Devlin and the amazing writers of Leverage.
Characters/Pairings: Team, Damien Moreau, Director Conrad, Sterling, Nana, all canon pairings
Rating: PG-13 leaning over the fence and shaking hands with R
Genre: Gen, drama, angst, team!fic
Warnings/spoilers: Set after the events of The Last Dam Job, the story is directly drawn from events in The Experimental Job.
Word Count: 50,069
Summary: The threat issued by CIA Director Conrad at the end of The Experimental Job proves to be anything but idle. The team is blackmailed into working for the CIA to help gain control of the major nuclear pipeline into Iran. To accomplish this and keep their loved ones safe, they are forced to work with an old enemy towards a common goal.
What the CIA fails to realize is that catching the Leverage team and holding them are usually two different things.
What Nate fails to realize is that the price for squirming free of the government's grasp is likely to be higher than he expected.
Link to Art Post: Here
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You look like hell.”
Nate was too tired to respond to Sterling’s assessment of his condition. Besides, if I look like I feel at this point, he’s not wrong. “Hardison has control of Conrad’s system.” He passed over the thumb drive Parker had pulled together. “Assuming you’re okay on physically getting into the embassy, this should give you enough to get started on putting a case together. Obviously with Sophie and Eliot already in position I have no leverage to get the rest of us any closer to the action.”
Sterling held the tiny drive up between two fingers. It was a matte black, and reflected none of the minimal illumination that surrounded them. “Are you sure about Hardison having control of a CIA..?” His voice trailed off at the look Nate gave him. “Never mind. Stupid question.” He closed his fist around the drive and slipped it into a pocket. “Nate, I can get you out of this right now. Tonight. Please, come with me.”
It was the same double edge sword he danced with every time he and Sterling tried to work together. “We all walk away, Sterling. That’s the deal. All of us - I’m not leaving them at Conrad’s mercy.” A tiny knot of panic bloomed in his gut. “I can’t leave Sophie and Eliot in Moreau’s clutches. You said you’d help me!”
He only belatedly realized his voice had risen when he saw the flash of annoyance in Sterling’s eyes. “Calm down. We’ve already put things in play to extract the Bushnell woman and her children from their situation. And regardless what happens in the next twenty-four hours, Moreau and Conrad are going to be arrested for what they’ve put into play here.”
“I’m not leaving my people, Jim,” Nate said, feeling his resolve grow more solid with each passing moment. “If that means you arrest the lot of us fine - I definitely trust your people more than I trust Conrad - but we stand or fall together.”
*~*~*
Sophie felt as though she were floating. It was the easiest thing in the world to let Moreau lead her by the hand through the halls of the villa towards their rooms. The walk through the gardens had been head-spinningly romantic, with the moon overhead and dozens of stolen kisses and gentle, affectionate touches. If she was any judge, Damien Moreau was wooing Annie Kroy with everything he had, and since the plan meant she needed to let him there was no way she could keep from being affected by it.
“Annie …” Moreau had stopped in front of her bedroom door, and was looking at her with a smoldering heat in his eyes. Sophie let him pull her in close, turning her face up so he could kiss her. It was slow, deep and passionate, and she tasted the brandy he’d drunk with dinner as his tongue slid against hers.
“I know I shouldn’t,” he murmured, tracing the curve of her cheek with his thumb, “I know we talked and I know I shouldn’t, but I desperately want to ask permission to come inside with you.”
Sophie felt a thrill of fear shiver through her as she caught herself just shy of saying the words. Being a grifter was about finding the mark’s deepest desire and then giving it to him, and here and now in this moment every instinct she had was telling her that Damien Moreau’s deepest desire was her. It was a rush that was hard to ignore. “We talked about this,” she said instead, once she could trust herself to speak. “Once tomorrow is behind us …”
She felt him trembling as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know. You make me forget myself, Annie. It is not good.”
“Luckily for you, Mr. Moreau,” she countered with a soft brightness, “I never take my eye off the ball.”
*~*~*
Acid did a slow crawl through Eliot’s gut as he listened to Sophie and Damien banter and flirt. He had faith in Sophie’s ability to navigate her way through the minefield of Damien’s intentions, but he’d also watched Moreau work his will on dozens of potential lovers - male and female - and this looked as real as anything he’d ever seen.
You can’t have her, he thought fiercely, unable to look away as Sophie said her good nights and disappeared into her bedroom. He could live with losing her to Nate.
Not to Damien.
“Old habits die hard,” Damien said, turning to face where he was lurking. “Isn’t that the saying?” He was obviously pleased to find Eliot watching him - there was no point in the hitter arguing his real motivation.
“Is our CIA friend happy?” he asked, when Eliot didn’t immediately rise to the bait. “Walk with me.”
He turned and headed in the direction of the library; Eliot fell into step automatically. “Conrad is as happy as he’s likely to ever get,” Eliot reported, keeping his voice down until they were clear of the bedroom wing. “We reviewed security and procedures for tomorrow night - everything looks fine.”
Eliot saw Damien scowl at the edge of his vision. “My patience for your sloppiness is wearing thin, my friend.” There was the low rumble of a threat in the statement.
“Embassy security is state of the art,” Eliot said, feeling his spine stiffen and his walk grow more properly military. “I have some concerns about the guest list, but Conrad has put you in under the alias I gave him. Meeting with Shahriari should be low key enough to keep you out of the line of sight of any potential trouble - I’ll handle anyone who might happen to notice you and feel you’re worth pursuing.”
They reached the sitting room together. Moreau didn’t stop walking until he reached the bar; Eliot automatically took up a position that let him continue facing Damien, but also gave him a view of the door in the mirror over the bar. “They will allow you your guns inside the embassy, yes?”
“I won’t need my guns.” The protest was automatic - the words left his lips before he had a chance to think. Damien paused in the middle of pouring himself a brandy and glared. “Yes,” Eliot capitulated, feeling another bit of his autonomy shrivel and flake away. “As your bodyguard, I will have dispensation to carry.”
Moreau exhaled sharply, and then tossed off the contents of his glass in a single swallow. “Good. Now it is time to discuss what is really going to happen tomorrow night, and what you and I are going to do about it.”
*~*~*
“We’re not supposed to con each other.”
Swallowing his first instinct, Hardison closed his eyes and reached out towards Parker. After a moment, cool fingers intertwined with his. He squeezed Parker’s hand reassuringly, and pulled her towards him. “Nate’s not conning Eliot, Parker. Not really. Eliot’s having a hard enough time - Nate’s just trying to arrange things so his reactions are as believable as possible.”
Parker turned, perching on the edge of his desk. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.” She reached out and stroked his hair with her free hand; Hardison tried very hard not to give into the urge to shut his brain off and lose himself in her. “You also look really tired.”
That startled a smile out of him. “I am,” he admitted, bringing the hand he was holding up to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “Nate’s sure Conrad or Moreau is going to be telling Eliot the full story tonight - as soon as he goes to spill his guts to Nate I’ll need to tighten everything up and get it to Sterling.”
The thief still looked troubled. “Too many secrets. Eliot and Sophie aren’t talking to us, we’re not talking to them. It feels like everything’s blowing apart.”
Hardison smiled as reassuringly as he could manage. “I know it feels that way Parker, but that’s not what’s going on at all. Each of us has a job to do and once Nate puts all the pieces together everything’s going to be okay again.”
She ducked her head for a second, and when she looked up at him again Hardison realized that Eliot and Sophie weren’t the only ones keeping secrets. “So it’s okay that I’ve got stuff I’ve been doing that I haven’t told you about?”
The hacker had a moment where it was all he could do not to seek Nate out and unleash all his frustration on the mastermind. The others rarely asked or cared about the details of what he did in the course of a job. Hardison understood that their disinterest was largely rooted in the fact that Nate was the only one who even came close to understanding what it was that he did.
He wasn’t used to being the one kept in the dark. And certainly not by Parker. Still, he’d been telling her the truth when he said there was a reason Nate was keeping them somewhat isolated from each other on this job, so he would have been the worst sort of hypocrite if he changed direction on her now.
He only belatedly realized that Parker was still waiting for his response. “It’s fine, Parker,” he said, urging her into his lap. “Whatever Nate or whoever’s got you doing, it’s gonna help Nana, right?” After she nodded he went on, “Then how can I be mad at you?”
*~*~*
It had been far too long since Damien Moreau had stood at this moment - on the verge of seeing a long, difficult game turn in his favor. The thrill was almost sexual as he stood across from Eliot - watching his most valued second take his final steps back to where he was always meant to be. “One of those names on the list that troubles you. Asfar Shiruyeh, am I correct?”
Eliot had finally relaxed onto one of the leather-covered stools, but Damien’s question brought him upright again. “What do you know?”
Moreau poured himself another glass of the brandy. “Shiruyeh is the warlord the CIA believes to be my primary competition for Majid’s connections. I believe he has staked the best claim to the routes I abandoned when your … mastermind … turned me over to the San Lorenzo police force.”
He watched Eliot as the man digested this new information - connecting the right dots and drawing all the proper conclusions - and it was all he could to not to smile. There you are, my old friend.
“It makes sense,” Eliot admitted finally. “Conrad would have had to assume you’d be challenged; he’s looking for me to make sure you come out on top.”
Damien allowed himself the indulgence of a genuine smile then, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgement as he sipped at his brandy. Eliot’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “So what’s the real play?” he asked. “Even putting me between you and Shiruyeh and trusting that I’ll do my part to keep you breathing, this all seems a little … passive … for you.”
“Simple.” Damien set his glass down and looked directly into Eliot’s eyes. “Asfar will attack me during the party. He won’t be able to resist - he knows that given a choice between the two of us, Majid will give his support to me. He will attack, you will kill him, and then you and I will escape in the resulting confusion.”
Eliot fell silent again, shifting the new information into its proper place. “Conrad’s already anticipated this,” he said.“Not to mention the bugs in this room are a foregone conclusion, so if he didn’t know you were going to try this before, he knows now. It’s why he brought Nate in as your control.”
It was the only discordant note in an otherwise enjoyable exchange. “Your naivete continues to baffle me,” Damien said. “Think, Eliot - with you at my side Nathan Ford has only one way to exert his so-called control and it is not over me.”
He imagined that he saw a faint bloom of color staining the other man’s cheeks, but otherwise Eliot seemed to roll smoothly in the direction Damien had nudged him. “You can’t really believe I’m going to betray him and help you. Not after everything that’s happened.”
So close … “You know that your best chance - your only chance is with me,” he said. “And if you don’t already know that I have the means to do this successfully, you are not the man I need at my side anymore.” He paused, making a show of studying Eliot and not liking what he saw. “Perhaps I need to be discussing this with your Mr. Hardison, instead. He and I have a similar interest in foiling Director Conrad’s plans, after all.”
Eliot came up off the bar stool then, his hands clenched into tight fists; the movement so fast it took most of Damien’s control not to flinch. “You and Hardison have nothing to say to each other.”
“Not true,” Moreau countered, idly tracing a finger across the rim of his glass. “We are both family men, he and I.” He waited a beat, and then added, “Alexander never got over the pain of you leaving, you know.”
It was a solid hit; Eliot looked noticeably more uncomfortable than he had before. In his position in Damien’s organization, Eliot had been forced into almost constant contact with the Moreau children. Being the type of man he was, he’d never seemed to find his additional responsibilities distasteful; instead, he’d tried to become a positive influence in their lives. Damien’s second son had been carrying a fairly sizeable amount of hero worship for Eliot when things had gone so horribly wrong.
“Have any overt threats been made?” Eliot asked finally.
Damien took another sip from his brandy. “Is it so impossible to imagine that your CIA might try a strategy like this twice?”
Silence fell between the two men. Damien opened the small refrigerator under the bar and took out a frosted brown bottle. “I don’t know what your tastes are these days,” he said, flipping the top neatly off and passing it across to Eliot, “but I imagine that Director Conrad does.”
The hitter’s answering smile was bitter as he raised the bottle and toasted Damien before taking a long swallow of the pale gold liquid. “I am sorry it has come to this, my friend,” Damien continued after a long moment. “You will have to pick a side, though, and you will need to do it soon because, one way or the other, everything changes tomorrow night.”
Eliot took another pull off his beer, and when he spoke his voice was thick with emotion. “What about Annie? You two looked pretty close back there - are you planning on taking her with you?”
Damien didn’t bother keeping the sneer off his face. “Sophie, or Annie, or whatever her name really is, has been an extremely pleasant companion these past few days, and I have no doubt that she will play her part to perfection tomorrow night - don’t get me wrong.” He paused, savoring the slight widening of Eliot’s eyes, the flaring of his nostrils as he registered that Damien had been playing his teammate with the same fervor she’d pursued him.
“Of course if she chooses to come with me,” he added, “I would welcome her happily. In addition to her more … physical attributes … having her legitimate connection to the Kroys to do with as I need would be useful.” He didn’t miss the slight tensing of muscles in Eliot’s arms and shoulders as his protective instincts were aroused.
“And if she doesn’t?” Eliot asked, his voice soft - almost a growl.
Damien waved away the implied threat. “If she doesn’t, then you will have a decision to make once the fighting starts tomorrow night. Do you expend your efforts returning me to custody? Or do you protect our dear Annie, making sure she isn’t harmed?”
A ghost of a smile hovered around Eliot’s lips as he pushed to his feet. “You talk like the two are mutually exclusive, Damien. Believe me when I say I have the resources to stop you and make sure that Annie isn’t harmed. No choice to be made.”
“Oh, there is still a choice,” Damien countered. “There is always a choice. You hate me for using you, for treating you as a tool, but how is that any different than what your mastermind will do? No matter what you decide, he will either jerk you into line himself, or he will use Annie to do it for him. The man I used to believe was closer to me than any brother would never tolerate such disrespect.”
*~*~*
I can take the punishment. It’s what I do. Words he’d spoken to Sophie a lifetime ago came back to him with Damien’s accusation ringing in his ears, and for the first time in years Eliot doubted his decision to leave Damien’s side. His own deep-seated moral qualms aside, there was something so seductive in the idea of just giving in. Guarantee Moreau his freedom in exchange for him leaving the team alone. He knew Nate was already working on a way to get them clear of the CIA - for the small price of what little soul Eliot had left it could potentially be a win all the way around.
“Say I agree to get you out,” he said finally, “I’m destroying any hope I have of returning to work with Nate. Not to mention I’d be lucky if Conrad’s people didn’t throw me in a hole so deep I’d never see the sun again.”
Damien’s grin broadened and turned sly; Eliot felt his gut twist in response. “Are you saying you want to come back?”
It was one of the hardest things he could ever remember saying. “I know it’s been some kind of twisted power play between you and Nate up to this point,” he began, “so I guess I’m asking if any of it was real? Do you want me back? If I help you escape - get you clear, get you your life back, your children - would you take me back?”
He knew as soon as he said it that Moreau was going to want to see him sweat a little bit more before answering - and he wasn’t disappointed. “Do you really expect me to believe that you aren’t going to take all of this straight to your current master?”
Eliot’s expression hardened. “I’m not expecting anything from you. Nate’s been keeping things from me. He knows how I feel about that. Way I figure, he owes me an explanation for shutting me out. I’m either going to get it, or I’m leaving this place tonight and all of you can go to hell. Can you give me an answer, Damien, or not?”
Moreau was quiet this time, and Eliot could sense that he was finally taking the question seriously. “I need some give and take this time. Get me clear of this, and I will at minimum guarantee your freedom from any reprisals by your government. If you are serious that your morality will no longer be a problem and you really do wish to return to my service, we can talk afterwards.”
“And Annie?” Eliot knew he should have taken the victory and run, but he couldn’t stop himself asking the question.
“Do you want her for yourself?” Moreau asked. “I could see my way clear that far.”
It was a tempting prospect … very tempting indeed.
*~*~*
Nate studied the GPS readout on Hardison’s phone and tried to pretend he was fine with the two dots it showed being in such close proximity. “You’re sure there’s nothing in the files to indicate who the real target is?” he asked.
Hardison’s dark eyes were sympathetic, but Nate knew the hacker had already given up everything useful he’d managed to dig out of the computers. Having control of Conrad’s system had sounded a lot more impressive when it was just him and Sterling standing alone in the darkness. “Still six likely candidates - all of them with a vested interest in seeing Moreau or the doc deceased.”
Moreau’s going to make a break for it. Eliot was in play both to protect Moreau and keep him in custody. Sophie was in play to make sure Eliot did his job - Conrad’s master plan was deceptively simple once Hardison had reported Eliot’s concern over the guest list. He wouldn’t have believed you if I’d warned you in advance. he thought, knowing that Eliot was going to be upset at the way things had turned out.
One of the red dots he was watching started to move, and Nate exhaled softly - feeling some of the tension in his chest ease. Lowering the hand-set, he passed it back to Hardison. “As soon as he tells us who the target is, I’m going to need you to finish that last drive for Sterling.” He glanced over his shoulder; Parker was curled up in a chair across the room from where they were working. “You remember where to meet him?”
She nodded, and Nate felt a twinge of guilt at how withdrawn she looked. “Don’t bother checking in with me before you make the hand-off,” he reminded her.
“Moreau’s not going to take him away from us,” she said as he headed for the door. It brought Nate up short, because he was half-expecting a question instead of a statement; the thief looking for some kind of reassurance from him.
“No, Parker,” he said as gently as he could. “He won’t. You just need to stick to the plan, and everything will be okay.”
Her quick nod of acknowledgement didn’t reassure him at all.
The full magnitude of his fatigue seemed to wash over him as he left hacker and thief and headed down the hall to his own room. They needed the name of the target, otherwise Eliot and Sophie were going to be in an unacceptable amount of danger at the party. Eliot can’t protect her or himself if he doesn’t know what he’s protecting them from.
His hand was already reaching out for the light switch in his bedroom when he sensed that he wasn’t alone.
“When were you planning on telling me there was going to be a hit on Damien?”
Even though he’d been expecting Eliot’s presence, Nate felt his heart sink at the sound of his hitter’s voice in the darkness. “I needed time,” he said, forcing himself to turn on the light and continue into his room. “I was hoping to be able to arrange things so you wouldn’t have to deal with it.”
It would have been easier to look at Eliot if the younger man had been drinking. Pain and betrayal were writ large on his face - deliberately shutting him out had cut deeper than anything Nate had ever managed to do to him by accident. “How’d that work out for you?”
Nate leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. “In all fairness, I don’t officially know who the potential assassin is beyond the six men you flagged for Conrad. Based on what Hardison was able to discover, I don’t think he plans on telling me.”
“Asfar Shiruyeh,” Eliot supplied. “Damien told me, and yes - Conrad knows. They figure he’ll attack during the party. I retaliate …”
“And Conrad uses Sophie and your loyalty to us to guarantee that Moreau doesn’t escape in the confusion,” Nate finished. “You’re not going to kill him, Eliot.”
Eliot blinked. “Who, Shiruyeh?” Nate didn’t say anything in response, merely raised an eyebrow. “All due respect, Nate,” he continued after a moment, “not your call. Not this time.” He sighed. “Damien has made it quite clear that if I don’t help him escape, he’ll get Hardison to do it. If I don’t kill him now, we’re never going to be free of him.”
Never get involved with a murderer. Sophie’s words from what seemed like a lifetime ago came back to him as he studied his hitter. The problem was, he couldn’t find any flaws in Eliot’s logic. “He almost took Hardison away from us without even trying,” Eliot said gently. “He’s a good man, I’m not saying he’s not, but that’s why Damien will take him.”
“Not if Interpol takes Moreau first.”
Part 8
Authors: scout_lover and telaryn
Artist: alinaandalion
Disclaimer: Not mine, making no money. I write only from a sad, fannish devotion to the characters created by John Rogers, Chris Downey, Dean Devlin and the amazing writers of Leverage.
Characters/Pairings: Team, Damien Moreau, Director Conrad, Sterling, Nana, all canon pairings
Rating: PG-13 leaning over the fence and shaking hands with R
Genre: Gen, drama, angst, team!fic
Warnings/spoilers: Set after the events of The Last Dam Job, the story is directly drawn from events in The Experimental Job.
Word Count: 50,069
Summary: The threat issued by CIA Director Conrad at the end of The Experimental Job proves to be anything but idle. The team is blackmailed into working for the CIA to help gain control of the major nuclear pipeline into Iran. To accomplish this and keep their loved ones safe, they are forced to work with an old enemy towards a common goal.
What the CIA fails to realize is that catching the Leverage team and holding them are usually two different things.
What Nate fails to realize is that the price for squirming free of the government's grasp is likely to be higher than he expected.
Link to Art Post: Here
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You look like hell.”
Nate was too tired to respond to Sterling’s assessment of his condition. Besides, if I look like I feel at this point, he’s not wrong. “Hardison has control of Conrad’s system.” He passed over the thumb drive Parker had pulled together. “Assuming you’re okay on physically getting into the embassy, this should give you enough to get started on putting a case together. Obviously with Sophie and Eliot already in position I have no leverage to get the rest of us any closer to the action.”
Sterling held the tiny drive up between two fingers. It was a matte black, and reflected none of the minimal illumination that surrounded them. “Are you sure about Hardison having control of a CIA..?” His voice trailed off at the look Nate gave him. “Never mind. Stupid question.” He closed his fist around the drive and slipped it into a pocket. “Nate, I can get you out of this right now. Tonight. Please, come with me.”
It was the same double edge sword he danced with every time he and Sterling tried to work together. “We all walk away, Sterling. That’s the deal. All of us - I’m not leaving them at Conrad’s mercy.” A tiny knot of panic bloomed in his gut. “I can’t leave Sophie and Eliot in Moreau’s clutches. You said you’d help me!”
He only belatedly realized his voice had risen when he saw the flash of annoyance in Sterling’s eyes. “Calm down. We’ve already put things in play to extract the Bushnell woman and her children from their situation. And regardless what happens in the next twenty-four hours, Moreau and Conrad are going to be arrested for what they’ve put into play here.”
“I’m not leaving my people, Jim,” Nate said, feeling his resolve grow more solid with each passing moment. “If that means you arrest the lot of us fine - I definitely trust your people more than I trust Conrad - but we stand or fall together.”
*~*~*
Sophie felt as though she were floating. It was the easiest thing in the world to let Moreau lead her by the hand through the halls of the villa towards their rooms. The walk through the gardens had been head-spinningly romantic, with the moon overhead and dozens of stolen kisses and gentle, affectionate touches. If she was any judge, Damien Moreau was wooing Annie Kroy with everything he had, and since the plan meant she needed to let him there was no way she could keep from being affected by it.
“Annie …” Moreau had stopped in front of her bedroom door, and was looking at her with a smoldering heat in his eyes. Sophie let him pull her in close, turning her face up so he could kiss her. It was slow, deep and passionate, and she tasted the brandy he’d drunk with dinner as his tongue slid against hers.
“I know I shouldn’t,” he murmured, tracing the curve of her cheek with his thumb, “I know we talked and I know I shouldn’t, but I desperately want to ask permission to come inside with you.”
Sophie felt a thrill of fear shiver through her as she caught herself just shy of saying the words. Being a grifter was about finding the mark’s deepest desire and then giving it to him, and here and now in this moment every instinct she had was telling her that Damien Moreau’s deepest desire was her. It was a rush that was hard to ignore. “We talked about this,” she said instead, once she could trust herself to speak. “Once tomorrow is behind us …”
She felt him trembling as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know. You make me forget myself, Annie. It is not good.”
“Luckily for you, Mr. Moreau,” she countered with a soft brightness, “I never take my eye off the ball.”
*~*~*
Acid did a slow crawl through Eliot’s gut as he listened to Sophie and Damien banter and flirt. He had faith in Sophie’s ability to navigate her way through the minefield of Damien’s intentions, but he’d also watched Moreau work his will on dozens of potential lovers - male and female - and this looked as real as anything he’d ever seen.
You can’t have her, he thought fiercely, unable to look away as Sophie said her good nights and disappeared into her bedroom. He could live with losing her to Nate.
Not to Damien.
“Old habits die hard,” Damien said, turning to face where he was lurking. “Isn’t that the saying?” He was obviously pleased to find Eliot watching him - there was no point in the hitter arguing his real motivation.
“Is our CIA friend happy?” he asked, when Eliot didn’t immediately rise to the bait. “Walk with me.”
He turned and headed in the direction of the library; Eliot fell into step automatically. “Conrad is as happy as he’s likely to ever get,” Eliot reported, keeping his voice down until they were clear of the bedroom wing. “We reviewed security and procedures for tomorrow night - everything looks fine.”
Eliot saw Damien scowl at the edge of his vision. “My patience for your sloppiness is wearing thin, my friend.” There was the low rumble of a threat in the statement.
“Embassy security is state of the art,” Eliot said, feeling his spine stiffen and his walk grow more properly military. “I have some concerns about the guest list, but Conrad has put you in under the alias I gave him. Meeting with Shahriari should be low key enough to keep you out of the line of sight of any potential trouble - I’ll handle anyone who might happen to notice you and feel you’re worth pursuing.”
They reached the sitting room together. Moreau didn’t stop walking until he reached the bar; Eliot automatically took up a position that let him continue facing Damien, but also gave him a view of the door in the mirror over the bar. “They will allow you your guns inside the embassy, yes?”
“I won’t need my guns.” The protest was automatic - the words left his lips before he had a chance to think. Damien paused in the middle of pouring himself a brandy and glared. “Yes,” Eliot capitulated, feeling another bit of his autonomy shrivel and flake away. “As your bodyguard, I will have dispensation to carry.”
Moreau exhaled sharply, and then tossed off the contents of his glass in a single swallow. “Good. Now it is time to discuss what is really going to happen tomorrow night, and what you and I are going to do about it.”
*~*~*
“We’re not supposed to con each other.”
Swallowing his first instinct, Hardison closed his eyes and reached out towards Parker. After a moment, cool fingers intertwined with his. He squeezed Parker’s hand reassuringly, and pulled her towards him. “Nate’s not conning Eliot, Parker. Not really. Eliot’s having a hard enough time - Nate’s just trying to arrange things so his reactions are as believable as possible.”
Parker turned, perching on the edge of his desk. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.” She reached out and stroked his hair with her free hand; Hardison tried very hard not to give into the urge to shut his brain off and lose himself in her. “You also look really tired.”
That startled a smile out of him. “I am,” he admitted, bringing the hand he was holding up to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “Nate’s sure Conrad or Moreau is going to be telling Eliot the full story tonight - as soon as he goes to spill his guts to Nate I’ll need to tighten everything up and get it to Sterling.”
The thief still looked troubled. “Too many secrets. Eliot and Sophie aren’t talking to us, we’re not talking to them. It feels like everything’s blowing apart.”
Hardison smiled as reassuringly as he could manage. “I know it feels that way Parker, but that’s not what’s going on at all. Each of us has a job to do and once Nate puts all the pieces together everything’s going to be okay again.”
She ducked her head for a second, and when she looked up at him again Hardison realized that Eliot and Sophie weren’t the only ones keeping secrets. “So it’s okay that I’ve got stuff I’ve been doing that I haven’t told you about?”
The hacker had a moment where it was all he could do not to seek Nate out and unleash all his frustration on the mastermind. The others rarely asked or cared about the details of what he did in the course of a job. Hardison understood that their disinterest was largely rooted in the fact that Nate was the only one who even came close to understanding what it was that he did.
He wasn’t used to being the one kept in the dark. And certainly not by Parker. Still, he’d been telling her the truth when he said there was a reason Nate was keeping them somewhat isolated from each other on this job, so he would have been the worst sort of hypocrite if he changed direction on her now.
He only belatedly realized that Parker was still waiting for his response. “It’s fine, Parker,” he said, urging her into his lap. “Whatever Nate or whoever’s got you doing, it’s gonna help Nana, right?” After she nodded he went on, “Then how can I be mad at you?”
*~*~*
It had been far too long since Damien Moreau had stood at this moment - on the verge of seeing a long, difficult game turn in his favor. The thrill was almost sexual as he stood across from Eliot - watching his most valued second take his final steps back to where he was always meant to be. “One of those names on the list that troubles you. Asfar Shiruyeh, am I correct?”
Eliot had finally relaxed onto one of the leather-covered stools, but Damien’s question brought him upright again. “What do you know?”
Moreau poured himself another glass of the brandy. “Shiruyeh is the warlord the CIA believes to be my primary competition for Majid’s connections. I believe he has staked the best claim to the routes I abandoned when your … mastermind … turned me over to the San Lorenzo police force.”
He watched Eliot as the man digested this new information - connecting the right dots and drawing all the proper conclusions - and it was all he could to not to smile. There you are, my old friend.
“It makes sense,” Eliot admitted finally. “Conrad would have had to assume you’d be challenged; he’s looking for me to make sure you come out on top.”
Damien allowed himself the indulgence of a genuine smile then, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgement as he sipped at his brandy. Eliot’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “So what’s the real play?” he asked. “Even putting me between you and Shiruyeh and trusting that I’ll do my part to keep you breathing, this all seems a little … passive … for you.”
“Simple.” Damien set his glass down and looked directly into Eliot’s eyes. “Asfar will attack me during the party. He won’t be able to resist - he knows that given a choice between the two of us, Majid will give his support to me. He will attack, you will kill him, and then you and I will escape in the resulting confusion.”
Eliot fell silent again, shifting the new information into its proper place. “Conrad’s already anticipated this,” he said.“Not to mention the bugs in this room are a foregone conclusion, so if he didn’t know you were going to try this before, he knows now. It’s why he brought Nate in as your control.”
It was the only discordant note in an otherwise enjoyable exchange. “Your naivete continues to baffle me,” Damien said. “Think, Eliot - with you at my side Nathan Ford has only one way to exert his so-called control and it is not over me.”
He imagined that he saw a faint bloom of color staining the other man’s cheeks, but otherwise Eliot seemed to roll smoothly in the direction Damien had nudged him. “You can’t really believe I’m going to betray him and help you. Not after everything that’s happened.”
So close … “You know that your best chance - your only chance is with me,” he said. “And if you don’t already know that I have the means to do this successfully, you are not the man I need at my side anymore.” He paused, making a show of studying Eliot and not liking what he saw. “Perhaps I need to be discussing this with your Mr. Hardison, instead. He and I have a similar interest in foiling Director Conrad’s plans, after all.”
Eliot came up off the bar stool then, his hands clenched into tight fists; the movement so fast it took most of Damien’s control not to flinch. “You and Hardison have nothing to say to each other.”
“Not true,” Moreau countered, idly tracing a finger across the rim of his glass. “We are both family men, he and I.” He waited a beat, and then added, “Alexander never got over the pain of you leaving, you know.”
It was a solid hit; Eliot looked noticeably more uncomfortable than he had before. In his position in Damien’s organization, Eliot had been forced into almost constant contact with the Moreau children. Being the type of man he was, he’d never seemed to find his additional responsibilities distasteful; instead, he’d tried to become a positive influence in their lives. Damien’s second son had been carrying a fairly sizeable amount of hero worship for Eliot when things had gone so horribly wrong.
“Have any overt threats been made?” Eliot asked finally.
Damien took another sip from his brandy. “Is it so impossible to imagine that your CIA might try a strategy like this twice?”
Silence fell between the two men. Damien opened the small refrigerator under the bar and took out a frosted brown bottle. “I don’t know what your tastes are these days,” he said, flipping the top neatly off and passing it across to Eliot, “but I imagine that Director Conrad does.”
The hitter’s answering smile was bitter as he raised the bottle and toasted Damien before taking a long swallow of the pale gold liquid. “I am sorry it has come to this, my friend,” Damien continued after a long moment. “You will have to pick a side, though, and you will need to do it soon because, one way or the other, everything changes tomorrow night.”
Eliot took another pull off his beer, and when he spoke his voice was thick with emotion. “What about Annie? You two looked pretty close back there - are you planning on taking her with you?”
Damien didn’t bother keeping the sneer off his face. “Sophie, or Annie, or whatever her name really is, has been an extremely pleasant companion these past few days, and I have no doubt that she will play her part to perfection tomorrow night - don’t get me wrong.” He paused, savoring the slight widening of Eliot’s eyes, the flaring of his nostrils as he registered that Damien had been playing his teammate with the same fervor she’d pursued him.
“Of course if she chooses to come with me,” he added, “I would welcome her happily. In addition to her more … physical attributes … having her legitimate connection to the Kroys to do with as I need would be useful.” He didn’t miss the slight tensing of muscles in Eliot’s arms and shoulders as his protective instincts were aroused.
“And if she doesn’t?” Eliot asked, his voice soft - almost a growl.
Damien waved away the implied threat. “If she doesn’t, then you will have a decision to make once the fighting starts tomorrow night. Do you expend your efforts returning me to custody? Or do you protect our dear Annie, making sure she isn’t harmed?”
A ghost of a smile hovered around Eliot’s lips as he pushed to his feet. “You talk like the two are mutually exclusive, Damien. Believe me when I say I have the resources to stop you and make sure that Annie isn’t harmed. No choice to be made.”
“Oh, there is still a choice,” Damien countered. “There is always a choice. You hate me for using you, for treating you as a tool, but how is that any different than what your mastermind will do? No matter what you decide, he will either jerk you into line himself, or he will use Annie to do it for him. The man I used to believe was closer to me than any brother would never tolerate such disrespect.”
*~*~*
I can take the punishment. It’s what I do. Words he’d spoken to Sophie a lifetime ago came back to him with Damien’s accusation ringing in his ears, and for the first time in years Eliot doubted his decision to leave Damien’s side. His own deep-seated moral qualms aside, there was something so seductive in the idea of just giving in. Guarantee Moreau his freedom in exchange for him leaving the team alone. He knew Nate was already working on a way to get them clear of the CIA - for the small price of what little soul Eliot had left it could potentially be a win all the way around.
“Say I agree to get you out,” he said finally, “I’m destroying any hope I have of returning to work with Nate. Not to mention I’d be lucky if Conrad’s people didn’t throw me in a hole so deep I’d never see the sun again.”
Damien’s grin broadened and turned sly; Eliot felt his gut twist in response. “Are you saying you want to come back?”
It was one of the hardest things he could ever remember saying. “I know it’s been some kind of twisted power play between you and Nate up to this point,” he began, “so I guess I’m asking if any of it was real? Do you want me back? If I help you escape - get you clear, get you your life back, your children - would you take me back?”
He knew as soon as he said it that Moreau was going to want to see him sweat a little bit more before answering - and he wasn’t disappointed. “Do you really expect me to believe that you aren’t going to take all of this straight to your current master?”
Eliot’s expression hardened. “I’m not expecting anything from you. Nate’s been keeping things from me. He knows how I feel about that. Way I figure, he owes me an explanation for shutting me out. I’m either going to get it, or I’m leaving this place tonight and all of you can go to hell. Can you give me an answer, Damien, or not?”
Moreau was quiet this time, and Eliot could sense that he was finally taking the question seriously. “I need some give and take this time. Get me clear of this, and I will at minimum guarantee your freedom from any reprisals by your government. If you are serious that your morality will no longer be a problem and you really do wish to return to my service, we can talk afterwards.”
“And Annie?” Eliot knew he should have taken the victory and run, but he couldn’t stop himself asking the question.
“Do you want her for yourself?” Moreau asked. “I could see my way clear that far.”
It was a tempting prospect … very tempting indeed.
*~*~*
Nate studied the GPS readout on Hardison’s phone and tried to pretend he was fine with the two dots it showed being in such close proximity. “You’re sure there’s nothing in the files to indicate who the real target is?” he asked.
Hardison’s dark eyes were sympathetic, but Nate knew the hacker had already given up everything useful he’d managed to dig out of the computers. Having control of Conrad’s system had sounded a lot more impressive when it was just him and Sterling standing alone in the darkness. “Still six likely candidates - all of them with a vested interest in seeing Moreau or the doc deceased.”
Moreau’s going to make a break for it. Eliot was in play both to protect Moreau and keep him in custody. Sophie was in play to make sure Eliot did his job - Conrad’s master plan was deceptively simple once Hardison had reported Eliot’s concern over the guest list. He wouldn’t have believed you if I’d warned you in advance. he thought, knowing that Eliot was going to be upset at the way things had turned out.
One of the red dots he was watching started to move, and Nate exhaled softly - feeling some of the tension in his chest ease. Lowering the hand-set, he passed it back to Hardison. “As soon as he tells us who the target is, I’m going to need you to finish that last drive for Sterling.” He glanced over his shoulder; Parker was curled up in a chair across the room from where they were working. “You remember where to meet him?”
She nodded, and Nate felt a twinge of guilt at how withdrawn she looked. “Don’t bother checking in with me before you make the hand-off,” he reminded her.
“Moreau’s not going to take him away from us,” she said as he headed for the door. It brought Nate up short, because he was half-expecting a question instead of a statement; the thief looking for some kind of reassurance from him.
“No, Parker,” he said as gently as he could. “He won’t. You just need to stick to the plan, and everything will be okay.”
Her quick nod of acknowledgement didn’t reassure him at all.
The full magnitude of his fatigue seemed to wash over him as he left hacker and thief and headed down the hall to his own room. They needed the name of the target, otherwise Eliot and Sophie were going to be in an unacceptable amount of danger at the party. Eliot can’t protect her or himself if he doesn’t know what he’s protecting them from.
His hand was already reaching out for the light switch in his bedroom when he sensed that he wasn’t alone.
“When were you planning on telling me there was going to be a hit on Damien?”
Even though he’d been expecting Eliot’s presence, Nate felt his heart sink at the sound of his hitter’s voice in the darkness. “I needed time,” he said, forcing himself to turn on the light and continue into his room. “I was hoping to be able to arrange things so you wouldn’t have to deal with it.”
It would have been easier to look at Eliot if the younger man had been drinking. Pain and betrayal were writ large on his face - deliberately shutting him out had cut deeper than anything Nate had ever managed to do to him by accident. “How’d that work out for you?”
Nate leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. “In all fairness, I don’t officially know who the potential assassin is beyond the six men you flagged for Conrad. Based on what Hardison was able to discover, I don’t think he plans on telling me.”
“Asfar Shiruyeh,” Eliot supplied. “Damien told me, and yes - Conrad knows. They figure he’ll attack during the party. I retaliate …”
“And Conrad uses Sophie and your loyalty to us to guarantee that Moreau doesn’t escape in the confusion,” Nate finished. “You’re not going to kill him, Eliot.”
Eliot blinked. “Who, Shiruyeh?” Nate didn’t say anything in response, merely raised an eyebrow. “All due respect, Nate,” he continued after a moment, “not your call. Not this time.” He sighed. “Damien has made it quite clear that if I don’t help him escape, he’ll get Hardison to do it. If I don’t kill him now, we’re never going to be free of him.”
Never get involved with a murderer. Sophie’s words from what seemed like a lifetime ago came back to him as he studied his hitter. The problem was, he couldn’t find any flaws in Eliot’s logic. “He almost took Hardison away from us without even trying,” Eliot said gently. “He’s a good man, I’m not saying he’s not, but that’s why Damien will take him.”
“Not if Interpol takes Moreau first.”
Part 8