Friday evening, Chicago
Parker was busily putting micro-bugs along the top of Walker 's ceiling (along with teeny tiny cameras in case they needed more evidence) as she searched for anything he might have hidden in his office.
"Hardison, how are we on time?"
Hardison
"You got plenty, baby girl," Hardison said easily, spinning around in his chair to toss a can of orange soda through the hoop and into the recycling bin. "Ain't even security guards up in this place. One good thing about shady assholes. They don't want no one nosin' around their stuff when they ain't there."
Hardison was in a great mood. No one was in the building, which meant his people could get out without a problem, they were gonna get the guy that stole from his Nana...everything was going perfectly. "Deon just moved the money into an escrow account. I uploaded a worm into his computer when Eliot's phone was connected. Damn, I love it when a plan comes together," he added over the comms. "Eliot, yo, you good?"
Eliot
"All clear out here," Eliot said, from where he was keeping watch outside, disguised as a janitor. "Like you said, ain't even any security."
Hardison
"So, like, how soon till you think you're done in there, babygirl?" Hardison asked. "I was thinkin' if it's soon enough, we could go out an' get somethin' to eat to celebrate this bein', like, the easiest con ever? There are a coupla pizza joints that stay open real late--an' y'all ain't never had deep dish till you had it straight up from Chicago."
Parker
"Maybe a half hour to do a full sweep, and remove all traces of ourselves," Parker said, smiling slightly. "Is your Nana there?"
Did she see how well Parker was doing? Did she, hunh?
Hardison
"She's downstairs putterin' around," Hardison said. He had no intentions of inviting his Nana upstairs to watch the three of the commit felonies together. "She worked third shift at the hospital for years, so even now she's kinda a night owl. She'll settle down soon enough, though. Probably before y'all even--"
From downstairs there was the sound of breaking glass. "Nana?" he called, turning away from the computer display. "Did you drop somethin'?"
Eliot
Eliot straightened, immediately on alert. The earbuds weren't good enough to pick up whatever Hardison had heard, but Eliot had been on the job too long not to get suspicious.
This job had been going too well.
"Hardison?"
Hardison
"Yo, hold on a sec," Hardison said. "Y'all keep doin' what you're doin'. I think Nana might have fallen or somethin'."
Unlike Eliot, with his instant suspicion of everything ever, Hardison headed down the stairs more concerned for Nana's health than anything else. She was getting up there in years and while she talked about being as healthy as a horse, she'd been under a lot of stress recently. "Nana?" he called again, when he hit the landing of the first floor. "Nana, I'm about to start--"
And that was when Nana screamed.
Parker
"Eliot, go," Parker said, already started to extract herself. "I'll be ten minutes behind you."
Anything that made Nana scream like that deserved to have Eliot happen to them.
"Hardison? Hardison, what's happening!"
Eliot
Eliot was already moving, but it was good to hear that Parker knew he wouldn't be backing her up anymore.
"I'm ten minutes out, Hardison. Seven if no one gets in my way."
He and Nana had better be in one piece when Eliot got there, or Chicago might burn to the ground.
Hardison
"Nana!" Hardison called again, pelting down the hallway towards the living room. He couldn't respond to his team, not until he saw his Nana, knew she was safe. "Nana!"
He flung himself into the living room, taking in the room in snippets. The shards of glass on the carpet, glimmering in the streetlight. The broken window above it, bottom pane pushed up, out of the way and the screen torn free. Front door standing open. His Nana, struggling in the grip of two guys, dressed in black ski masks. Her eyes, terrified above the hand that clamped over her mouth.
Movement from the corner of his eye--.
Hardison tried to dodge, but he was too slow to realize what that movement meant, to make his body respond. A third guy had been waiting for him, lurking right next to the doorway to attack as he burst through. The punch missed his head, though, landing at his shoulder, which exploded in pain.
It paid to be taller than people expected.
He didn't cry out, though. He channeled that hurt into his demand. "What the fuck are you people doing in my Nana's house?" he roared.
And then he set his head down between his shoulders and charged at the guy to his Nana's left. "Get your hands off of her!"
Eliot
There was too much space between Eliot and the fight. His car couldn't go fast enough. He listened carefully, refusing to give voice to the curses that wanted to get out of his mouth. Front room, maybe. He pictured the layout of the house, marking off the entrance points in his head. Too many windows. Too many variables.
"Hardison, I need you to talk to me. As soon as you can without tipping them off, I need to know how many and where. I'm a few minutes out."
Hardison
Hardison barreled into his quarry, who really had nowhere to go, caught between the wall on one side of him and his partner and their would-be victim on the other. Slamming into the guy with the shoulder that had just been punched into jelly hurt like hell, but the guy went down flat.
Of course, he took Hardison with him, but you couldn't have everything now, could you?
"Who are the three of you?" he howled, leaning back for a moment to headbutt the guy in the face. There was a faint crunching noise and suddenly Hardison's face was covered in blood. "Get outta my Nana's living room!"
Yeah, a little stilted, but he was doing the best he could here.
Parker
Parker had disentangled herself from her rig, gotten out of the office, and was now making her way down, frantic to get to Hardison and Nana.
"Hardison, get under a table," Parker said urgently. "Hang onto it. Make them work to get you out. Buy as much time as you can. Four minutes until Eliot is there." She hopped off the wall, and took a breath. "Tell Nana to get low, and get out."
Hardison
Hardison heard her, but barely comprehended. He couldn't act on any of that, not until he could verify his Nana was safe, that they hadn't had a chance to hurt her.
"Nana!" he yelled, "Nana, get down, get outta here!"
Nana
"Alec!" Nana cried, and she'd never sounded so old, so frail. "Let me go you sonuvabitch!" Her left hand was open and she used it to grab something--anything--she could use to fight free. The first thing that came to hand was a picture of her husband on the mantelpiece. It was a picture of him in the service, the same one they'd used at his funeral. The frame was heavy, made of wood, with sharp corners.
Good enough.
Snatching it up, she swung it upside her attacker's head. Yet more glass shattered, falling around them both in a rain of shards. "You hurt my boy and it's the last thing you'll ever do!"
Heyes
"You bitch!" the biggest of their attackers roared, and backhanded the old woman. His face was bleeding where she'd struck him and glass had lodged in his shirt and pants, occasionally scratching him as he moved. "You just had to keep talking, didn't you? Just had to keep pushing, keep being a nosy, interfering busybody! This is on you!"
He raised a hand to hit her again. "And now I don't even feel bad about it."
Hardison
Hardison recognized that voice, knew that if he took a few seconds he could figure out where he knew it from and how. But he didn't have a few seconds, not when Nana was about to get hit again.
He swung, his fist slamming into the back of the guy's head. More pain burst through his hand, like his bones were filled with fire, but he didn't care, it didn't matter. While the guy rocked forward, unbalanced, Hardison snatched at his foster mother, dragging her out of the guy's grip and away. "Get outta here!" he roared. "Run to the bathroom, Nana, get into the tub an' lock the door!"
Not quite the right order there, but he was confident that she would figure it out.
"Run!" he screamed, giving her a push that sent her staggering forward a few feet. "Dammit, Nana, run!"
Nana
Nana dropped the picture frame, nerveless fingers stupid and unsteady. She was no stranger to violence, not as a freedom rider, a nurse, or a foster mother in a hard, unforgiving city. But it had been years, possibly even a decade by this point, since the last time that violence had broken into her home and affected her people. And in that time, she'd gotten old. Slow. Worn Down.
"Alec!" She didn't want to just abandon him--!
Asshole Number Three
"Shoulda left when you had the chance, Grandma." The third guy, the one who had tried to ambush Hardison, lunged for her, arms outstretched. "You're not going anywhere!"
A fireplace poker swung out at the guy's arm. It hit and something cracked, causing him to wail in pain and crumple over.
Hardison
"Nana," Hardison said, voice firm as he raised the poker again, this time bringing it down on the guy's side. "I said to get out of here."
No more yelling. Hardison found himself oddly calm, the way he felt mid-hack. His crew was coming, he just had to make sure his Nana got out of here safely and then he could do what Parker had said and hide under a table. Okay, no table big enough in the living room. Between the wall and a chair maybe? No, wait, better plan.
Another hit to the third guy and then Hardison was turning towards the two others, the one who was picking himself up off the ground and the one whose voice was nagging at him. He stepped between them and Nana, raising the poker defensively, even as he spoke directly to her. "Make for the door, Nana. One step at a time. I'm right here behind you, it's cool."
Heyes
Heyes let them take a step. Two. Three. Let the young man herd the old bat towards the doorway, towards what they thought was freedom. Safety.
And when he judged they'd gone far enough, he pulled out his gun. He would have preferred not to use it, had almost decided not to bring it along for one old woman, but professionalism required him to be thorough. And so he'd brought it, a heavy weight in his pocket, a weight he'd drawn surreptitiously during those long steps towards the door.
"You're not going anywhere," he said, slipping the safety off with his thumb before pointing it directly at the guy's forehead. "The boss sent me to do a job and that job's getting done. Good luck stopping a bullet, kid."
Eliot
"You're going to regret that."
The thugs had left the front door open, probably the better to pretend this was some drug-fueled robbery gone wrong. They were counting on this not being the sort of neighborhood where a good samaritan might come in and try to help.
Unfortunately for them, it also meant Eliot could get right up behind Heyes before anyone noticed he'd arrived.
Heyes
Heyes turned and looked at Eliot in surprise. No, he definitely hadn't expect any of this. "Tyrol!" he snapped, eyes narrowing. "I see."
Hardison
In the moment Heyes' attention was split--that was why he'd recognized the voice!--Hardison cradled Nana in his arms and dove with her, getting her down and out of the line of sight, his body providing a bit more cover between her and whatever came next.
Eliot
Eliot would commend Hardison on that move later. It wasn't super likely, but occasionally someone managed to get a shot off before he managed to disarm them, even when he was this close.
He grabbed onto the wrist of Heyes' gun arm and smashed his free elbow at Heyes' nose. "Yeah," he said. "I don't care."
(Well, not yet. Blowing your cover was never a good idea.)
Heyes
Heyes' head snapped backwards, though too big and too well-trained to even stumble. "That's it," he said, raising a free hand to his bleeding nose. "You get one."
And there the second guy was leaping for Eliot, planning to wrestle him to the ground.
Eliot
That was cute.
Eliot side-stepped thug number 2 and redirected his momentum into the wall. He squeezed Heyes' wrist, pressing his thumb into Heyes' median nerve with his thumb to make him release the gun.
"Ain't playin' games anymore, Heyes."
Heyes
"Me neither," Heyes said, swinging for Eliot's face, even as the gun clattered to the floor. "I'm going to beat you into a pulp and drag you back to Walker myself!"
Dream big, Heyes, dream big.
Eliot
Eliot blocked the blow (he'd be icing that wrist later) and stepped into Heyes' reach for a one-two punch to the kidneys.
Heyes was a big man, sure. But all that meant was he'd go down harder.
Asshole Number Two
Heyes bellowed and this time did stagger forward. Which gave the second attacker the opportunity to fling himself at Eliot's back, hoping to wrap his arms around Eliot's throat and squeeze.
Eliot
Eliot twisted soon enough to catch the attack from the front instead of the back, but not soon enough to avoid having to absorb the second guy's momentum. He let the man drive him back into a table, then braced both hands on its surface so he could pull both his legs up and kick him backwards -- and into Heyes, preferably.
Heyes
This was not how the evening was supposed to go. The guy Eliot kicked fell backwards, careening into Heyes. "Get off me!" Heyes growled, thrown-off balance. He roughly shoved him away, but rather than falling into Eliot, he tripped sideways and sprawled out over the guy Hardison had hit several times with a fireplace poker. That guy had been trying to push himself up, whimpering each time he put weight on his ribs, so having his friend crash into him probably would have taken him out by itself. Having him clock his head against the floor was just icing.
"What the hell am I paying you bitches for?" Heyes bellowed.
Eliot
Eliot snorted. "From the looks of it, to get their asses kicked." He straightened and moved in to heave another blow at Heyes' injured nose.
Parker
"Hardison? Nana?" Parker came in through the window, and absently kicked one of the henchmen in the ribs as she got inside. "Are you guys okay?" Eliot was making his own fun, so that was good. "Nanaaaaa!" Almost a wail.
Hardison
"Parker, Parker, we're right here!" Hardison said, poking his head up from where he'd been splayed, hands braced protectively over his neck, body shielding Nana's from everything else going on. "We good, mama, we good. Help me get Nana outta here?"
It seemed like the fight was between Heyes and Eliot now, and Hardison already knew how that fight would go, but he still wanted Nana up and out of here, just in case. They were both looking a little worse for wear.
Heyes
You know, Heyes was gettin' real tired of Tyrol. His nose had exploded in pain and blood and his eyes were rapidly swelling shut. His gun was lost, his backup down, his element of surprise completely lost. He hadn't expected the old woman to have anyone here with her, certainly hadn't expected them to be dangerous enough to fight him off, and having at least one of them be involved in a con against his boss?
Nope, hadn't seen that coming at all.
He needed to get out of here, retreat, inform Deon of this new development. The idiots he'd brought with him knew better than to talk, at least not right away. He could send people after them in lockup to keep them quiet on a more personal basis. Time to go.
"This ain't over, Tyrol," he said, clutching his bleeding face. His voice was thick, distorted now. "You'll be hearing from me again. Better hope that it's just over the phone on behalf of Mr. Walker. You made a bad enemy today."
Eliot
Eliot rolled his eyes, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.
"You talk too much."
Parker
By now Parker was checking Hardison and Nana for injuries, and not finding them as injury-free as she would like. She gave Heyes a Look.
And sent one of her sharper climbing tools winging toward his throat.
(Maybe it was a warning shot. Or maybe she would be okay if it wasn't.)
Eliot
Eliot's hand snapping out to catch it was mostly instinct. He looked from it to Heyes and raised an eyebrow.
You leavin', that eyebrow asked. Or you wanna die on this hill?
It was a very distinctive eyebrow.
Heyes
"We'll be coming for you," he said. "All of you. Remember that."
And then he was gone, leaving his downed compatriots to fend for themselves.
Eliot
Eliot tapped the two downed thugs with his boot. They were either out, or they were very good at pretending.
"Got any duct tape?" he asked, smirking faintly, then looked over to where Hardison still had Nana covered and blanched faintly. "Uh."
Hardison
"Well," Hardison said carefully, letting Parker drag him to his feet. He looked much worse for wear."That wasn't in the co--in the plan."
Grabbing onto the back of the nearest chair to support himself, he nodded Parker over to Nana, who was even now trying to push herself up. "Nana, you okay? Hang on a sec, let 'em help you, okay?"
Nana
The woman Parker helped to her feet looked noticeably older and frailer than the woman they had said goodbye to earlier in the evening. She seemed smaller, almost, like she'd drawn into herself, the bruises on her face making her look haggard in the light.
Still, her voice was strong enough when she spoke again. "You need duct tape, Eliot? There's some in the junk drawer in the kitchen. Bottom drawer to the right of the fridge. Don't know how much is left on the roll, but should be enough to bind these sons of bitches up good." She grimaced, then winced as the expression pulled on the cut on her lip. "Sorry for the language."
Parker
"No, no, they really are," Parker reassured Nana. "And lots worse. Do you want me to get it?" She kept her arms around Nana, and offered, "And I could get you an icepack, and one for Hardison, and some aspirin and water and hey! Eliot can hog-tie them with the duct-tape! That'll be funny!"
Eliot
"Ice packs and aspirin," Eliot confirmed. "Just need enough tape to secure 'em while I get them the hell outta here." He looked back up at Nana, making sure to catch her eye. "I'm sorry. Last thing any of us wanted was this followin' you home."
Or him doing his thing in front of her. Eliot had been really hoping to avoid that.
Nana
"Oh, honey, you got to reason to be apologizing to me," Nana said, leaning over to rest her hand on his arm. "You saved me'n Alec from something a lot worse, believe me." She gave him a smile that trembled ever-so-slightly. "You think I'm put off by a little bit of violence? Come talk to me after a Saturday night in the ER after the Cubs lose. Now that's violence."
Hardison
"What next?" Hardison asked in a small voice, clinging to Nana's hand tightly. "We--we gotta figure out next steps, how to work this in. Gotta--gotta figure out--"
He wasn't shellshocked, no matter how it sounded. Instead, he was staring at the obvious conclusion about the night's events over a yawning gulf of guilt.
This was their fault.
Nana
"Do?" Nana asked, blinking at him in concern. "Alec, honey, there's not much for us to do. We call the police, report an attempted robbery. There ain't nothing to worry about, here. You're allowed to defend your home in an invasion." Her mouth went thin, voice bitter. "Supposedly 'Stand Your Ground' is applicable to all folks. We'll be fine, sweetheart."
Parker
Parker had come back in with duct tape, two ice bags, and bottles of water and aspirin. And the same conclusions bugging at her. "It's too soon," she said abruptly. "This isn't-- this wasn't retaliation. He can't know yet. So this was. For other reasons. Wasn't it."
This was cleaning house. They'd motivated Deon into stepping up his game from assault to-- "I am really really angry right now." And a good chunk of that was for herself.
Eliot
"Yeah," Eliot said. He'd figured that out, too. He took the duct tape and started securing the thugs. "Walker's probably countin' on the police not blinkin' much at violence in this area." He made a disgusted noise and had to resist the impulse to kick the downed men again. "As though this town didn't have enough trouble with guns."
Nana
"Guys," Hardison said softly, "maybe we should continue this later--"
But it was too late. Nana had already heard them. "Walker?" she asked. "What does he--?" She stopped as her mind began filling in some blanks of its own. She wasn't the genius her foster son was, but she was no idiot either. "He sent these men after me. To clean house. In retaliation." She raised an eyebrow at the children. "Retaliation for what?"
"Nana," Hardison said, wincing. "Naww, see--"
"Alec said that y'all were coming here to help me out, to see if maybe y'all couldn't find Deon and bring him to justice. I assumed he meant hiring a PI or using your security contacts among the Chicago PD. But that's not what's going on, it is?"
Parker
If this had been anyone but family, then Parker would have started spinning one of their million cover stories about the FBI or private investors or... but this was Hardison's Nana, and they'd screwed up. She'd screwed up. She could own it.
"We were going to get him to give us the money," she said, her voice flat. "We had a scam going. So that we could get everything you invested, and your friends too, and leave him broke. And give us time to dig up dirt on him, enough to put him away for years." She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Na-- Celeste. He's hurt people before. But I didn't realize he'd get so ambitious he'd try to kill someone... you. Anyone."
Eliot
"Would've made sure you had security on you and your friends if we did." Eliot finished with the thugs and straightened, running his hand through his hair. "Will do, now. My cover's blown anyway."
Nana
Whatever Nana had expected to hear, it hadn't quite been this. Yes, she'd known that Alec had lied to her about what kind of work they did over the years, had deliberately not questioned it, but she'd still expected to hear one of those cover stories that Parker had discarded, had prepared to make herself believe it.
"Alec?" she asked. "What--what do they mean? A scam? Dirt? What's going on?"
Hardison
"Just what Parker said, Nana," Hardison answered in that still, soft voice he used sometimes, when his usual cheer and strutting attitude deserted him. "We're thieves. Been thieves for years. Our own different flavors of it. Parker's the thief in the way you understand it best. Ain't no lock she can't pick, no safe she can't crack. Eliot's a retrieval specialist. He gets in an' gets out again, no matter the odds." And even now, confessing to his Nana, Hardison couldn't quite help the warm glow of pride in his voice. These were his people, his crew, and they were the best at what they did. None better.
"Me, I'm a hacker, but you probably already figured that out. Ain't nothing electronic can keep me out if I want. Which is why this whole thing?" He waved his hand around the living room, taking in the shattered glass, their unconscious foes, everything with one lazy sweep of his hand. "Is actually kinda pointless. You weren't never in danger of losin' the house, Nana. You got so much money tied up in grants an' trusts an' annuities, it ain't even funny. Same for the rest of the family, to limited extents. Gettin' your money back so you didn't have to worry no more was nice, but secondary. All of this happened cause I--I just wanted to get the man that had made you cry."
Nana
Nothing Alec had said was a surprise, exactly, but that didn't mean that Nana was ready to hear it. She brought her hand up to her chest, fingers brushing over her collarbone like she had pearls to clutch, before falling away.
"I think...I think this has been a very long and trying night," she said. "And it would be better if I went to bed and got some rest before I figure out what I should think about any of this. Call the police--or don't. I'm not sure what--we'll discuss what happened in the morning, I think. I wish y'all a good night."
Moving slowly, moving like a frail, old woman who felt every year of her life weighing on her bones, Nana left the room.
Hardison
Hardison drew in a shaky breath. In all the ways he'd imagined this weekend crashing and burning, this particular scenario had never occurred to him. In a way, it was almost a relief when the phone they'd assigned to 'Tyrol' began to ring. It was something that he could focus on that wasn't his Nana's expression at various points in the evening. He wasn't sure which squeezed his heart more; the memory of seeing her get hit, or the look in her eyes when he admitted he was a thief.
"What?" he snapped when he answered the phone. By all rights, he should have let Eliot or Parker answer it. They were calmer, could be smarter, didn't have a pulsing drive to do increasingly horrible things to the man on the other end.
Okay, maybe he was wrong about how they felt in regards to that last bit.
Deon
"This isn't Tyrol." Deon Walker's voice came down the line, rich and amused. "But it doesn't matter anyway. does it. Heyes assures me that you're all together. Good. Saves time. I don't give a damn who I talk to so long as you all get the message." They could all hear the smile in his voice as Hardison turned the speakerphone on. "You have something that belongs to me. I have an entire list of names and addresses of people that Celeste Tafiya is close to. Sure would be a shame if any of them were to fall victim to another robbery like the one Celeste just underwent. A pity, but Chicago can be a very dangerous city, you know. Unless you three somehow think you can protect all of them at once?"
Deon paused for a moment, allowing them time to make that claim if they could. A few seconds later, he started talking again.
"Didn't think so. So let's talk business. Real business..."
[ooc: preplayed with the awesome vdistinctive and age_of_the_geek, follows this post in Eliot's journal, to be continued tomorrow! NFB, NFI, OOC welcome.]
"Hardison, how are we on time?"
Hardison
"You got plenty, baby girl," Hardison said easily, spinning around in his chair to toss a can of orange soda through the hoop and into the recycling bin. "Ain't even security guards up in this place. One good thing about shady assholes. They don't want no one nosin' around their stuff when they ain't there."
Hardison was in a great mood. No one was in the building, which meant his people could get out without a problem, they were gonna get the guy that stole from his Nana...everything was going perfectly. "Deon just moved the money into an escrow account. I uploaded a worm into his computer when Eliot's phone was connected. Damn, I love it when a plan comes together," he added over the comms. "Eliot, yo, you good?"
Eliot
"All clear out here," Eliot said, from where he was keeping watch outside, disguised as a janitor. "Like you said, ain't even any security."
Hardison
"So, like, how soon till you think you're done in there, babygirl?" Hardison asked. "I was thinkin' if it's soon enough, we could go out an' get somethin' to eat to celebrate this bein', like, the easiest con ever? There are a coupla pizza joints that stay open real late--an' y'all ain't never had deep dish till you had it straight up from Chicago."
Parker
"Maybe a half hour to do a full sweep, and remove all traces of ourselves," Parker said, smiling slightly. "Is your Nana there?"
Did she see how well Parker was doing? Did she, hunh?
Hardison
"She's downstairs putterin' around," Hardison said. He had no intentions of inviting his Nana upstairs to watch the three of the commit felonies together. "She worked third shift at the hospital for years, so even now she's kinda a night owl. She'll settle down soon enough, though. Probably before y'all even--"
From downstairs there was the sound of breaking glass. "Nana?" he called, turning away from the computer display. "Did you drop somethin'?"
Eliot
Eliot straightened, immediately on alert. The earbuds weren't good enough to pick up whatever Hardison had heard, but Eliot had been on the job too long not to get suspicious.
This job had been going too well.
"Hardison?"
Hardison
"Yo, hold on a sec," Hardison said. "Y'all keep doin' what you're doin'. I think Nana might have fallen or somethin'."
Unlike Eliot, with his instant suspicion of everything ever, Hardison headed down the stairs more concerned for Nana's health than anything else. She was getting up there in years and while she talked about being as healthy as a horse, she'd been under a lot of stress recently. "Nana?" he called again, when he hit the landing of the first floor. "Nana, I'm about to start--"
And that was when Nana screamed.
Parker
"Eliot, go," Parker said, already started to extract herself. "I'll be ten minutes behind you."
Anything that made Nana scream like that deserved to have Eliot happen to them.
"Hardison? Hardison, what's happening!"
Eliot
Eliot was already moving, but it was good to hear that Parker knew he wouldn't be backing her up anymore.
"I'm ten minutes out, Hardison. Seven if no one gets in my way."
He and Nana had better be in one piece when Eliot got there, or Chicago might burn to the ground.
Hardison
"Nana!" Hardison called again, pelting down the hallway towards the living room. He couldn't respond to his team, not until he saw his Nana, knew she was safe. "Nana!"
He flung himself into the living room, taking in the room in snippets. The shards of glass on the carpet, glimmering in the streetlight. The broken window above it, bottom pane pushed up, out of the way and the screen torn free. Front door standing open. His Nana, struggling in the grip of two guys, dressed in black ski masks. Her eyes, terrified above the hand that clamped over her mouth.
Movement from the corner of his eye--.
Hardison tried to dodge, but he was too slow to realize what that movement meant, to make his body respond. A third guy had been waiting for him, lurking right next to the doorway to attack as he burst through. The punch missed his head, though, landing at his shoulder, which exploded in pain.
It paid to be taller than people expected.
He didn't cry out, though. He channeled that hurt into his demand. "What the fuck are you people doing in my Nana's house?" he roared.
And then he set his head down between his shoulders and charged at the guy to his Nana's left. "Get your hands off of her!"
Eliot
There was too much space between Eliot and the fight. His car couldn't go fast enough. He listened carefully, refusing to give voice to the curses that wanted to get out of his mouth. Front room, maybe. He pictured the layout of the house, marking off the entrance points in his head. Too many windows. Too many variables.
"Hardison, I need you to talk to me. As soon as you can without tipping them off, I need to know how many and where. I'm a few minutes out."
Hardison
Hardison barreled into his quarry, who really had nowhere to go, caught between the wall on one side of him and his partner and their would-be victim on the other. Slamming into the guy with the shoulder that had just been punched into jelly hurt like hell, but the guy went down flat.
Of course, he took Hardison with him, but you couldn't have everything now, could you?
"Who are the three of you?" he howled, leaning back for a moment to headbutt the guy in the face. There was a faint crunching noise and suddenly Hardison's face was covered in blood. "Get outta my Nana's living room!"
Yeah, a little stilted, but he was doing the best he could here.
Parker
Parker had disentangled herself from her rig, gotten out of the office, and was now making her way down, frantic to get to Hardison and Nana.
"Hardison, get under a table," Parker said urgently. "Hang onto it. Make them work to get you out. Buy as much time as you can. Four minutes until Eliot is there." She hopped off the wall, and took a breath. "Tell Nana to get low, and get out."
Hardison
Hardison heard her, but barely comprehended. He couldn't act on any of that, not until he could verify his Nana was safe, that they hadn't had a chance to hurt her.
"Nana!" he yelled, "Nana, get down, get outta here!"
Nana
"Alec!" Nana cried, and she'd never sounded so old, so frail. "Let me go you sonuvabitch!" Her left hand was open and she used it to grab something--anything--she could use to fight free. The first thing that came to hand was a picture of her husband on the mantelpiece. It was a picture of him in the service, the same one they'd used at his funeral. The frame was heavy, made of wood, with sharp corners.
Good enough.
Snatching it up, she swung it upside her attacker's head. Yet more glass shattered, falling around them both in a rain of shards. "You hurt my boy and it's the last thing you'll ever do!"
Heyes
"You bitch!" the biggest of their attackers roared, and backhanded the old woman. His face was bleeding where she'd struck him and glass had lodged in his shirt and pants, occasionally scratching him as he moved. "You just had to keep talking, didn't you? Just had to keep pushing, keep being a nosy, interfering busybody! This is on you!"
He raised a hand to hit her again. "And now I don't even feel bad about it."
Hardison
Hardison recognized that voice, knew that if he took a few seconds he could figure out where he knew it from and how. But he didn't have a few seconds, not when Nana was about to get hit again.
He swung, his fist slamming into the back of the guy's head. More pain burst through his hand, like his bones were filled with fire, but he didn't care, it didn't matter. While the guy rocked forward, unbalanced, Hardison snatched at his foster mother, dragging her out of the guy's grip and away. "Get outta here!" he roared. "Run to the bathroom, Nana, get into the tub an' lock the door!"
Not quite the right order there, but he was confident that she would figure it out.
"Run!" he screamed, giving her a push that sent her staggering forward a few feet. "Dammit, Nana, run!"
Nana
Nana dropped the picture frame, nerveless fingers stupid and unsteady. She was no stranger to violence, not as a freedom rider, a nurse, or a foster mother in a hard, unforgiving city. But it had been years, possibly even a decade by this point, since the last time that violence had broken into her home and affected her people. And in that time, she'd gotten old. Slow. Worn Down.
"Alec!" She didn't want to just abandon him--!
Asshole Number Three
"Shoulda left when you had the chance, Grandma." The third guy, the one who had tried to ambush Hardison, lunged for her, arms outstretched. "You're not going anywhere!"
A fireplace poker swung out at the guy's arm. It hit and something cracked, causing him to wail in pain and crumple over.
Hardison
"Nana," Hardison said, voice firm as he raised the poker again, this time bringing it down on the guy's side. "I said to get out of here."
No more yelling. Hardison found himself oddly calm, the way he felt mid-hack. His crew was coming, he just had to make sure his Nana got out of here safely and then he could do what Parker had said and hide under a table. Okay, no table big enough in the living room. Between the wall and a chair maybe? No, wait, better plan.
Another hit to the third guy and then Hardison was turning towards the two others, the one who was picking himself up off the ground and the one whose voice was nagging at him. He stepped between them and Nana, raising the poker defensively, even as he spoke directly to her. "Make for the door, Nana. One step at a time. I'm right here behind you, it's cool."
Heyes
Heyes let them take a step. Two. Three. Let the young man herd the old bat towards the doorway, towards what they thought was freedom. Safety.
And when he judged they'd gone far enough, he pulled out his gun. He would have preferred not to use it, had almost decided not to bring it along for one old woman, but professionalism required him to be thorough. And so he'd brought it, a heavy weight in his pocket, a weight he'd drawn surreptitiously during those long steps towards the door.
"You're not going anywhere," he said, slipping the safety off with his thumb before pointing it directly at the guy's forehead. "The boss sent me to do a job and that job's getting done. Good luck stopping a bullet, kid."
Eliot
"You're going to regret that."
The thugs had left the front door open, probably the better to pretend this was some drug-fueled robbery gone wrong. They were counting on this not being the sort of neighborhood where a good samaritan might come in and try to help.
Unfortunately for them, it also meant Eliot could get right up behind Heyes before anyone noticed he'd arrived.
Heyes
Heyes turned and looked at Eliot in surprise. No, he definitely hadn't expect any of this. "Tyrol!" he snapped, eyes narrowing. "I see."
Hardison
In the moment Heyes' attention was split--that was why he'd recognized the voice!--Hardison cradled Nana in his arms and dove with her, getting her down and out of the line of sight, his body providing a bit more cover between her and whatever came next.
Eliot
Eliot would commend Hardison on that move later. It wasn't super likely, but occasionally someone managed to get a shot off before he managed to disarm them, even when he was this close.
He grabbed onto the wrist of Heyes' gun arm and smashed his free elbow at Heyes' nose. "Yeah," he said. "I don't care."
(Well, not yet. Blowing your cover was never a good idea.)
Heyes
Heyes' head snapped backwards, though too big and too well-trained to even stumble. "That's it," he said, raising a free hand to his bleeding nose. "You get one."
And there the second guy was leaping for Eliot, planning to wrestle him to the ground.
Eliot
That was cute.
Eliot side-stepped thug number 2 and redirected his momentum into the wall. He squeezed Heyes' wrist, pressing his thumb into Heyes' median nerve with his thumb to make him release the gun.
"Ain't playin' games anymore, Heyes."
Heyes
"Me neither," Heyes said, swinging for Eliot's face, even as the gun clattered to the floor. "I'm going to beat you into a pulp and drag you back to Walker myself!"
Dream big, Heyes, dream big.
Eliot
Eliot blocked the blow (he'd be icing that wrist later) and stepped into Heyes' reach for a one-two punch to the kidneys.
Heyes was a big man, sure. But all that meant was he'd go down harder.
Asshole Number Two
Heyes bellowed and this time did stagger forward. Which gave the second attacker the opportunity to fling himself at Eliot's back, hoping to wrap his arms around Eliot's throat and squeeze.
Eliot
Eliot twisted soon enough to catch the attack from the front instead of the back, but not soon enough to avoid having to absorb the second guy's momentum. He let the man drive him back into a table, then braced both hands on its surface so he could pull both his legs up and kick him backwards -- and into Heyes, preferably.
Heyes
This was not how the evening was supposed to go. The guy Eliot kicked fell backwards, careening into Heyes. "Get off me!" Heyes growled, thrown-off balance. He roughly shoved him away, but rather than falling into Eliot, he tripped sideways and sprawled out over the guy Hardison had hit several times with a fireplace poker. That guy had been trying to push himself up, whimpering each time he put weight on his ribs, so having his friend crash into him probably would have taken him out by itself. Having him clock his head against the floor was just icing.
"What the hell am I paying you bitches for?" Heyes bellowed.
Eliot
Eliot snorted. "From the looks of it, to get their asses kicked." He straightened and moved in to heave another blow at Heyes' injured nose.
Parker
"Hardison? Nana?" Parker came in through the window, and absently kicked one of the henchmen in the ribs as she got inside. "Are you guys okay?" Eliot was making his own fun, so that was good. "Nanaaaaa!" Almost a wail.
Hardison
"Parker, Parker, we're right here!" Hardison said, poking his head up from where he'd been splayed, hands braced protectively over his neck, body shielding Nana's from everything else going on. "We good, mama, we good. Help me get Nana outta here?"
It seemed like the fight was between Heyes and Eliot now, and Hardison already knew how that fight would go, but he still wanted Nana up and out of here, just in case. They were both looking a little worse for wear.
Heyes
You know, Heyes was gettin' real tired of Tyrol. His nose had exploded in pain and blood and his eyes were rapidly swelling shut. His gun was lost, his backup down, his element of surprise completely lost. He hadn't expected the old woman to have anyone here with her, certainly hadn't expected them to be dangerous enough to fight him off, and having at least one of them be involved in a con against his boss?
Nope, hadn't seen that coming at all.
He needed to get out of here, retreat, inform Deon of this new development. The idiots he'd brought with him knew better than to talk, at least not right away. He could send people after them in lockup to keep them quiet on a more personal basis. Time to go.
"This ain't over, Tyrol," he said, clutching his bleeding face. His voice was thick, distorted now. "You'll be hearing from me again. Better hope that it's just over the phone on behalf of Mr. Walker. You made a bad enemy today."
Eliot
Eliot rolled his eyes, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.
"You talk too much."
Parker
By now Parker was checking Hardison and Nana for injuries, and not finding them as injury-free as she would like. She gave Heyes a Look.
And sent one of her sharper climbing tools winging toward his throat.
(Maybe it was a warning shot. Or maybe she would be okay if it wasn't.)
Eliot
Eliot's hand snapping out to catch it was mostly instinct. He looked from it to Heyes and raised an eyebrow.
You leavin', that eyebrow asked. Or you wanna die on this hill?
It was a very distinctive eyebrow.
Heyes
"We'll be coming for you," he said. "All of you. Remember that."
And then he was gone, leaving his downed compatriots to fend for themselves.
Eliot
Eliot tapped the two downed thugs with his boot. They were either out, or they were very good at pretending.
"Got any duct tape?" he asked, smirking faintly, then looked over to where Hardison still had Nana covered and blanched faintly. "Uh."
Hardison
"Well," Hardison said carefully, letting Parker drag him to his feet. He looked much worse for wear."That wasn't in the co--in the plan."
Grabbing onto the back of the nearest chair to support himself, he nodded Parker over to Nana, who was even now trying to push herself up. "Nana, you okay? Hang on a sec, let 'em help you, okay?"
Nana
The woman Parker helped to her feet looked noticeably older and frailer than the woman they had said goodbye to earlier in the evening. She seemed smaller, almost, like she'd drawn into herself, the bruises on her face making her look haggard in the light.
Still, her voice was strong enough when she spoke again. "You need duct tape, Eliot? There's some in the junk drawer in the kitchen. Bottom drawer to the right of the fridge. Don't know how much is left on the roll, but should be enough to bind these sons of bitches up good." She grimaced, then winced as the expression pulled on the cut on her lip. "Sorry for the language."
Parker
"No, no, they really are," Parker reassured Nana. "And lots worse. Do you want me to get it?" She kept her arms around Nana, and offered, "And I could get you an icepack, and one for Hardison, and some aspirin and water and hey! Eliot can hog-tie them with the duct-tape! That'll be funny!"
Eliot
"Ice packs and aspirin," Eliot confirmed. "Just need enough tape to secure 'em while I get them the hell outta here." He looked back up at Nana, making sure to catch her eye. "I'm sorry. Last thing any of us wanted was this followin' you home."
Or him doing his thing in front of her. Eliot had been really hoping to avoid that.
Nana
"Oh, honey, you got to reason to be apologizing to me," Nana said, leaning over to rest her hand on his arm. "You saved me'n Alec from something a lot worse, believe me." She gave him a smile that trembled ever-so-slightly. "You think I'm put off by a little bit of violence? Come talk to me after a Saturday night in the ER after the Cubs lose. Now that's violence."
Hardison
"What next?" Hardison asked in a small voice, clinging to Nana's hand tightly. "We--we gotta figure out next steps, how to work this in. Gotta--gotta figure out--"
He wasn't shellshocked, no matter how it sounded. Instead, he was staring at the obvious conclusion about the night's events over a yawning gulf of guilt.
This was their fault.
Nana
"Do?" Nana asked, blinking at him in concern. "Alec, honey, there's not much for us to do. We call the police, report an attempted robbery. There ain't nothing to worry about, here. You're allowed to defend your home in an invasion." Her mouth went thin, voice bitter. "Supposedly 'Stand Your Ground' is applicable to all folks. We'll be fine, sweetheart."
Parker
Parker had come back in with duct tape, two ice bags, and bottles of water and aspirin. And the same conclusions bugging at her. "It's too soon," she said abruptly. "This isn't-- this wasn't retaliation. He can't know yet. So this was. For other reasons. Wasn't it."
This was cleaning house. They'd motivated Deon into stepping up his game from assault to-- "I am really really angry right now." And a good chunk of that was for herself.
Eliot
"Yeah," Eliot said. He'd figured that out, too. He took the duct tape and started securing the thugs. "Walker's probably countin' on the police not blinkin' much at violence in this area." He made a disgusted noise and had to resist the impulse to kick the downed men again. "As though this town didn't have enough trouble with guns."
Nana
"Guys," Hardison said softly, "maybe we should continue this later--"
But it was too late. Nana had already heard them. "Walker?" she asked. "What does he--?" She stopped as her mind began filling in some blanks of its own. She wasn't the genius her foster son was, but she was no idiot either. "He sent these men after me. To clean house. In retaliation." She raised an eyebrow at the children. "Retaliation for what?"
"Nana," Hardison said, wincing. "Naww, see--"
"Alec said that y'all were coming here to help me out, to see if maybe y'all couldn't find Deon and bring him to justice. I assumed he meant hiring a PI or using your security contacts among the Chicago PD. But that's not what's going on, it is?"
Parker
If this had been anyone but family, then Parker would have started spinning one of their million cover stories about the FBI or private investors or... but this was Hardison's Nana, and they'd screwed up. She'd screwed up. She could own it.
"We were going to get him to give us the money," she said, her voice flat. "We had a scam going. So that we could get everything you invested, and your friends too, and leave him broke. And give us time to dig up dirt on him, enough to put him away for years." She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Na-- Celeste. He's hurt people before. But I didn't realize he'd get so ambitious he'd try to kill someone... you. Anyone."
Eliot
"Would've made sure you had security on you and your friends if we did." Eliot finished with the thugs and straightened, running his hand through his hair. "Will do, now. My cover's blown anyway."
Nana
Whatever Nana had expected to hear, it hadn't quite been this. Yes, she'd known that Alec had lied to her about what kind of work they did over the years, had deliberately not questioned it, but she'd still expected to hear one of those cover stories that Parker had discarded, had prepared to make herself believe it.
"Alec?" she asked. "What--what do they mean? A scam? Dirt? What's going on?"
Hardison
"Just what Parker said, Nana," Hardison answered in that still, soft voice he used sometimes, when his usual cheer and strutting attitude deserted him. "We're thieves. Been thieves for years. Our own different flavors of it. Parker's the thief in the way you understand it best. Ain't no lock she can't pick, no safe she can't crack. Eliot's a retrieval specialist. He gets in an' gets out again, no matter the odds." And even now, confessing to his Nana, Hardison couldn't quite help the warm glow of pride in his voice. These were his people, his crew, and they were the best at what they did. None better.
"Me, I'm a hacker, but you probably already figured that out. Ain't nothing electronic can keep me out if I want. Which is why this whole thing?" He waved his hand around the living room, taking in the shattered glass, their unconscious foes, everything with one lazy sweep of his hand. "Is actually kinda pointless. You weren't never in danger of losin' the house, Nana. You got so much money tied up in grants an' trusts an' annuities, it ain't even funny. Same for the rest of the family, to limited extents. Gettin' your money back so you didn't have to worry no more was nice, but secondary. All of this happened cause I--I just wanted to get the man that had made you cry."
Nana
Nothing Alec had said was a surprise, exactly, but that didn't mean that Nana was ready to hear it. She brought her hand up to her chest, fingers brushing over her collarbone like she had pearls to clutch, before falling away.
"I think...I think this has been a very long and trying night," she said. "And it would be better if I went to bed and got some rest before I figure out what I should think about any of this. Call the police--or don't. I'm not sure what--we'll discuss what happened in the morning, I think. I wish y'all a good night."
Moving slowly, moving like a frail, old woman who felt every year of her life weighing on her bones, Nana left the room.
Hardison
Hardison drew in a shaky breath. In all the ways he'd imagined this weekend crashing and burning, this particular scenario had never occurred to him. In a way, it was almost a relief when the phone they'd assigned to 'Tyrol' began to ring. It was something that he could focus on that wasn't his Nana's expression at various points in the evening. He wasn't sure which squeezed his heart more; the memory of seeing her get hit, or the look in her eyes when he admitted he was a thief.
"What?" he snapped when he answered the phone. By all rights, he should have let Eliot or Parker answer it. They were calmer, could be smarter, didn't have a pulsing drive to do increasingly horrible things to the man on the other end.
Okay, maybe he was wrong about how they felt in regards to that last bit.
Deon
"This isn't Tyrol." Deon Walker's voice came down the line, rich and amused. "But it doesn't matter anyway. does it. Heyes assures me that you're all together. Good. Saves time. I don't give a damn who I talk to so long as you all get the message." They could all hear the smile in his voice as Hardison turned the speakerphone on. "You have something that belongs to me. I have an entire list of names and addresses of people that Celeste Tafiya is close to. Sure would be a shame if any of them were to fall victim to another robbery like the one Celeste just underwent. A pity, but Chicago can be a very dangerous city, you know. Unless you three somehow think you can protect all of them at once?"
Deon paused for a moment, allowing them time to make that claim if they could. A few seconds later, he started talking again.
"Didn't think so. So let's talk business. Real business..."
[ooc: preplayed with the awesome vdistinctive and age_of_the_geek, follows this post in Eliot's journal, to be continued tomorrow! NFB, NFI, OOC welcome.]