Happy Holidays argentum_ls!
Title: The Loch Job
Author: Jamie and his Magic Torch
Written for: argentum_ls
Characters/Pairings: Amanda, Richie, Alec Hardison, Elliott Spencer, Parker, Sophie Devereaux, Nate Ford
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 4,000
Author's Notes: Crossover with Leverage. Hopefully no knowledge of that show required.
Summary: Amanda finds herself in prison for a murder she didn't commit. Her brilliant lawyer, Richard Barrett (Richie), knows she didn't do it, but the evidence is overwhelming. What they need is a little Leverage.
The Loch Job
It was early hours of the morning and Amanda was sleeping peacefully in her bed when her phone started ringing. Almost instantly, she was awake and alert. Three rings on the landline, hang up then two rings and hang up; it was the code she'd established with her doorman to alert her to approaching police.
She quickly grabbed some clothes and was about to climb out the window, still in her nightdress, when she realised an unfamiliar thing; she'd done absolutely nothing wrong. There was no crime she had committed that could possibly have an outstanding warrant.
Before she could process the strange thoughts there was a loud banging on the door.
"Police! Open up!"
She hesitated at the window, before deciding to drop the clothes and go to open the door. But before she reached it, the door was rammed open in a shower of splinters from the frame and a dozen armed police entered the apartment.
"Amanda Bisset, you are under arrest for the murder of Franklin Cochrane the Third," said an alarmingly burly and grim looking detective who was pointing the barrel of a decidedly non-standard issue .45 at her. The immediate impression he gave Amanda was of a cross between a less attractive Nick Wolfe and Lieutenant Columbo minus the twinkle in the eye.
Casually she raised her hands in surrender.
"You have definitely made a mistake, I haven't killed anyone," she replied, adding a silent caveat of lately in her head.
"You can explain it at the station," the detective said curtly.
"Why, officer, in my nightclothes? When I don't even know your name? At least let me get dressed and call my lawyer so he can meet us at the precinct," she said coquettishly. It was worth a try; her charms had worked in the past.
"Fine. Officer Williams, escort Miss Bisset to get dressed and then let her call her lawyer before bringing her downtown," the detective snapped the order at a young female officer near him. She nodded and hurried Amanda into the bedroom.
"Your boss doesn't seem very friendly," Amanda commented as she pulled on a pair of pants and a top.
"The Lieutenant comes down hard on killers. But he's a good guy, fair. If you're innocent he's the right guy to investigate."
"Comforting to know, Officer Williams," Amanda said with barely contained sarcasm. She finished dressing and then went to call the best lawyer she knew.
*_*
"It's not looking good, Amanda," Richie said as he sat opposite her at the prison. "They've got blood and fingerprints that put you at the scene, the stolen jewellery was located in a safe deposit under one of your known aliases and a witness puts you in the building two nights before the crime."
"Don't sugar coat it, darling, tell me the worst of it," she replied with a grin but Richie didn't return it.
"The worst of it is the judge won't grant bail. He says that it's such a high profile case he wants to limit press coverage. Personally I don't disagree; we need to keep our faces off the six o'clock news as much as possible, but it makes any escape plan more difficult."
"Escape?! Richie, I'm being framed here! I've never killed for a job, it's far too crass. You believe me, don't you? If you don't believe I'm innocent then what chance do I have?"
"Of course I know you didn't do this. Apart from anything else, you would never leave such an obvious trail. But I don't think the 'my client is a brilliant cat burglar with a thousand years' experience' defence will fly with the jury," Richie replied, and this time he smiled briefly before growing serious again. "But the evidence is pretty conclusive. We need leverage and I don't have any."
"Do you have the case file with you? They wouldn't let me see at the police precinct, so I haven't even seen the man I supposedly killed."
Richie pulled a manilla folder from his briefcase and opened it to an 8x10 photo before passing it to Amanda. She looked closely at it for a few moments and then began to laugh.
"Care to let me in on the joke?" he prompted. Amanda poked the picture.
"It all makes sense now. That twisted bastard. That is not Franklin Cochrane the Third; that is Declan McDonald. He's one of us, and he's got a grudge against me. Obviously he figured this was a better revenge than my head. Ooh, wait until I get my hands on him," she explained.
"So he's still alive. If we could prove that without revealing his Immortality, that would fix everything!" Richie said.
"And how exactly would we do that?" Amanda asked.
"I said we need leverage, and I think I know just where we can get it."
*_*
One of the few mortals who knew Richie's secret, Alec Hardison was a good friend and the guy that had taught Richie everything he knew about computers. Hardison was now part of a group who called themselves Leverage Inc. and acted as latter day Robin Hoods, conning the rich and powerful to help the innocent. So that was why Richie had just spent half an hour in a microbrewery with his friend Alec, explaining the dilemma Amanda was in to the man seated opposite, Nate Ford. Minus the Immortal details of course.
"So that's the story, Mr. Ford. Alec tells me that you'll be able to help, I hope that's true," Richie finished.
"Helping free someone framed for murder does sound like the kind of thing we do, Mr. Barrett," Ford replied to Richie. Richie started to smile but Ford held up a hand to stall him. "But I hardly think that Amanda Montrose, or Bisset or whatever her current alias is, can be considered innocent. There are plenty of crimes she did commit and got away with."
"Never murder," Richie protested.
"Maybe, but there are other, more... deserving candidates out there."
"Nate, I owe Richie. He saved my life," Hardison interjected. "And none of us is in a place to cast stones, you know what I'm saying?" he added in a stage whisper.
"I'm sorry, but no," Ford said and stood to leave. As he walked away from the table, Richie spoke.
"She said you might refuse. She said if you did, to remind you of Montreal," he said.
Ford stopped but didn't turn around.
"Good day, Mr. Barrett."
*_*
Twenty minutes later, Hardison and Ford stood in a back room of the pub along with the rest of their team: the enigmatic con-artiste Sophie Devereaux, the best muscle for hire Elliott Spencer and the only thief that could give Amanda a run for her money, the ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag that is Parker.
"That's the case. I need to do this because I owe Amanda. Hardison wants to do it for Richie, but I'm not asking any of you to be involved," Nate explained to the team as Hardison finished displaying all the evidence against Amanda on the big screen.
"I wouldn't be here without Amanda. I'm in," said Parker. At a raised eyebrow from Alec she added with a big grin, "There was this little misunderstanding with the Russian police, and a Stradivarius of questionable origin."
"I'm in," Elliott said without further explanation. There was however a very fond smile on his face.
"Well, I'd look terrible if I said no now, wouldn't I?" Sophie said. "Count me in. So, how do you want to do this?"
"The cat in the bag," Nate replied.
"Don't you mean the pig in the poke?" Sophie said.
"Potayto, potarto," Nate replied. "The point is we're going to offer him something he can't refuse. When he comes out of hiding to get it, we'll prove he's alive and free Amanda."
"Richie told us that Cochrane's descended from a Scot who fought for Bonnie Prince Charlie and he's obsessed with this," Hardison said and pressed a button on the remote to bring up a series of images on the big screen.
"The treasure of Loch Arkaig," Nate continued.
"Oh, I've heard of this," Sophie interrupted. "It's supposedly a forgotten cache of Jacobite gold, buried somewhere in the wilds of Scotland."
"And as a descendent of one of the soldiers the gold was intended to pay, Cochrane believes he has a claim on the treasure," Nate confirmed. "So we are going to give it to him."
"What about Treasure Trove?" Sophie asked "If the treasure were discovered and declared legally the Scottish government would claim it."
"Then we make it found illegally," Nate answered.
"Oh, throw in a little Spanish Prisoner, you mean? Well, I dinnae think that'll be no bad thing," Sophie said, slipping into a cliché Scots accent.
"Actually, Sophie, that's not quite what I had in mind. Hardison, your job is to locate Cochrane and then lure him to the sale. Sophie, you are going to be the crooked curator, willing to run the black market auction where Campbell Price is going to part with his most treasured family heirloom," Nate explained before nodding to Hardison who pressed the remote to bring up a drivers licence for 'Campbell Price'. The picture on the licence was of Elliott.
"No. No, I can't do a Scottish accent!" he protested.
"That's the beauty of this alias, you don't have to. Price is third generation, born and raised in the USA. Owns a big plastic manufacturing company," Hardison explained, pride in his work showing on his face.
"Hardison created the false story that Price is embezzling and he needs to sell the gold fast before the accountants realise and he ends up in jail," Nate finished.
"Just a few leaked memos and FBI reports on Wikileaks, a few rumours on Twitter. It snowballed from there," Alec said with a grin. Nate clapped his hands together and stood up.
"Ok, let's go steal a museum"
*_*
Richie sat in a coffee shop with Hardison, who had just filled him in on the broad strokes of Nate's plan. Richie was skeptical, but he trusted Alec and Alec trusted his team.
"Thanks to you I was able to hack the Watcher database and find out that Cochrane, or McDonald, is actually here in Portland. Really lucky coincidence," Alec said.
"I doubt it. Bastard probably wants to watch Amanda go down."
"Well, whatever the reason it helps us. Wheels are in motion right now. We were hoping you could be Elliott's lawyer, lend some legitimacy to the alias?" Alec asked. Richie shook his head.
"I don't know if Cochrane knows who I am. And he would know I'm Immortal, it might complicate things."
"That's cool, man, you can help me with the tech. Wait until you see Lucille," Alec said with a grin.
"I can't wait. But actually, I think I just got a better idea," he answered with a bigger smile.
*_*
The next day, Sophie had conned her way into the curatorial staff of a local museum and Hardison had backstopped her alias as a visiting expert in the Jacobite Rebellion from Oxford with impeccable credentials named Professor Elizabeth Shaw.
Hardison had melted down some gold that Parker had acquired to create replicas of the coins that would have been in the treasure. They only needed a few for Cochrane to examine up close; the rest only had to be gold and old to pass cursory photographic inspection.
"You sure you're up for this, Barrett?" Elliott asked as he and Richie walked towards the museum. Richie chuckled.
"Let's just say I wasn't exactly a law abiding citizen before Law School," he replied. "I'll be fine."
They met Sophie at the museum entrance, who led them to an office upstairs. As they approached, Richie felt the presence of an Immortal. They passed a member of the museum staff in the corridor, who looked at them with open curiosity, but with a smile and a friendly greeting from Sophie he soon moved on.
They entered the office to find Cochrane waiting, along with another man, and both stood when they entered. Cochrane seemed briefly confused by Richie's presence, but he quickly recovered, smiled and held out his hand to Elliott.
"Mr. Price," he said as Elliott shook the hand. Elliott nodded.
"And this is my lawyer," he said. Cochrane nodded and then shook Richie's hand. "And you're Mr. McAvoy?"
"That's right. I hope nobody minds, and no insult intended to Professor Shaw, but I brought my own expert. Doctor Johnson here is an expert in numismatics. I hope you understand."
"Sure thing," Elliott replied. Sophie smiled.
"It doesn't bother me in the slightest. I may be an expert in the Jacobite Rebellion but coinage is not really my field," she said. "Mr. Price, do you have the sample?"
Richie lifted up the briefcase he was carrying, opened the latches and then presented it to Elliott to open. Inside lay two of the coins Hardison had made and a series of photographs. Cochrane's coin expert took the pieces and began examining them, while Cochrane examined the photographs.
"My great grand-pappy dug the treasure up back in the old country, 'bout a hundred years ago. They used some of it to come to the US, start up the factory. Of course we weren't in plastics then, it was rubber mouldings, but my grandfather had an eye for the future, moved into plastic when he saw that was the way ahead. We made so much money there was never a need to touch the rest of the treasure. But, I find myself needing a little spending money," Elliott explained.
"I've seen the reports on the Internet. Five million I believe?" Cochrane said. He turned to his expert, who nodded once, then turned to Sophie and handed her the photos. "Well, Professor, is it the treasure of Loch Arkaig?"
"Mr. Price's story certainly fits. And the pieces all fit the period. If your expert agrees on the age of the coins, then I say yes. I would not have agreed to risk my reputation arranging this buy if I wasn't sure of the provenance," Sophie replied.
Cochrane took one of the coins and lovingly turned it over in his hands.
"I've been looking for this for a long time. I'll offer you seven million for the treasure," he said.
Richie coughed politely.
"The asking price was fifteen, and the treasure is easily worth double that," he said.
"Yes, but your client is desperate. Tell you what, I'm feeling generous; let's say ten."
Richie started to protest, but Elliott held up a hand.
"Ten sounds good," he said. "I'll arrange for the rest to be delivered here, tonight, for collection. You transfer the funds to the account my lawyer will give you and the treasure is yours. As a gesture of good faith, you can keep those two coins."
Richie passed Cochrane a slip of paper, Cochrane and Elliott shook hands and then, after putting the coins back in the briefcase, Cochrane and his expert left.
"That seemed to go well," Richie commented. Elliott and Sophie said nothing.
*_*
It was a very nervous Richie that was sat in Lucille, listening on the comms to what was going on in the museum. Alec smiled and patted his arm.
"Don't sweat it, Rich. He bought the gold; the exchange is the simple bit."
Elliott entered the van at that moment and nodded to Richie before taking a seat.
"Simple? This is where it could all go wrong," Richie replied.
"Sophie is the best at what she does, Rich. Trust her to get it done," Alec replied.
"Aw, thank you Hardison," Sophie said over the comms. "Oop, here comes our boy. Good evening, Mr. McAvoy.
"Good evening, Professor Shaw. I hope you'll excuse me if I skip the pleasantries? I assume you have my gold?" Cochrane's voice was recognisable, picked up clearly by Hardison's clever little earwigs.
"Here it is, as arranged. Now, if you'll just transfer the funds to my client's account," Sophie said.
"You know, Professor, it strikes me that we're all alone down here and as this little extra-curricular activity of yours is unlikely to be sanctioned, I suspect nobody knows we're here. And if your client doesn't get the money he'll blame you. So there is nothing to stop me just taking the gold," Cochrane said.
"No honour among thieves? I recognised you, Mr. Cochrane. What if I were to call for security; you're supposed to be dead," Sophie said.
"That would be an unfortunate turn of events. For you."
There was silence and then a mechanical clicking could be heard over the comm. Elliott stood up at the noise.
"That's the sound of the safety on a .45 ACP Luger," he said. At Richie's skeptical look he added "It's a very distinctive sound." Then he headed out of the van at a run. After a brief glance at each other, Richie and Alec followed.
"Who else is here?" they heard Cochrane demand as the three raced toward the museum.
"I don't think there's anyone here... Oh, Doctor Price, what are you doing here so late?" Sophie said.
"I might ask the same," said a new voice. It was a man, with a dry British accent. Richie presumed it was the Doctor Price that Sophie mentioned. "I'm on to you, Shaw. People like you bring the whole archaeological field into disrepute! I've contacted the proper authorities, and there's no use trying to escape as they will be here any minute."
There were sounds of a struggle over the comms, and then a gunshot and Sophie screamed. As Richie, Elliott and Alec reached the basement, Cochrane came running out, the gold clutched to him and blood splatter on his clothes.
"Sophie!"
They entered the room to find Sophie, thankfully unharmed, standing over the body of a man.
"I'm okay, but let's go before the police arrive," she said, visibly shaken.
Elliott went chasing after Cochrane, leaving the other two to escort Sophie up and out the rear exit. When Elliott reached the main entrance, two of Cochrane's security detail were waiting, presumably to delay pursuers. Elliott smiled and dropped into a fighting stance before beckoning to the men.
*_*
Cochrane reached his car, but the driver's door hung open and the driver was missing.
"I'm sorry, but your man there found a sudden need to visit Bora Bora," said a voice behind him. He turned and Nate stepped out from the shadows. "We haven't met, my name is Nate Ford."
"Well, Mr. Ford, you clearly have no idea who you are dealing with," Cochrane sneered and pulled out his gun.
Suddenly the air filled with flashing lights and the wail of sirens as they were surrounded by police cars.
"There you are, Agent McSweeten; a very much alive Franklin Cochrane the third, in possession of the stolen Incan treasure and holding the gun he used to murder Doctor Matthew Pierce, curator of the exhibit," Nate said. A slender young man in a suit stepped forward, took the gold from a dumbfounded Cochrane and pulled out one of the coins to show that it was clearly Native South American in design.
"The FBI thanks you for your assistance. Oh, and please give my regards to Agent Hagen next time you see her," McSweeten said as another agent stepped forward and cuffed Cochrane.
*_*
Three Days Earlier
The gallery of South American Culture was dark and silent. In the middle of the gallery stood the prize of the museum's collection; a series of Incan gold coins and jewelry. The night guard made his round, his torch rejecting off the previous metal. Suspended forty feet above him was Parker, who waited with baited breath for him to pass.
Once he was gone, she quickly and quietly dropped down on an elaborate pulley system and removed the gold from its case with all her usual skill and efficiency. Within three minutes, both Parker and the gold were gone.
*_*
Richie walked into the morgue, having paid a sizeable bribe to the attendant. He walked along until he found the gurney with the body of Dr. Price. He unzipped the body bag and then held out the gym bag he was carrying. Price sat up and took the bag.
"Tell me it worked," he said.
"Like a charm," Richie replied. "Thanks, Old Man, Amanda really appreciates your help."
"It's fine. I was getting bored with Dr. Price anyway. I think I might go back to medicine," Methos replied. "But don't tell Amanda that, I want her thinking she owes me," he added. Richie laughed.
"Sure thing, Old Man."
*_*
Once Methos was safely on his way to his next alias, Richie's next stop was the micro-brewery to thank Nate and the others.
"That was a very complicated con, but it got the job done. We can't thank you enough," he said.
"It was never the pig in a poke, it was a Badger game all along," Hardison said with a grin. Nate smiled and nodded.
"Wait... The cat wasn't a pig, it was a badger?" Parker asked, a look of confusion on her face.
"No, there was no cat, no pig and no badger," Hardison started to explain, but Elliott laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head, stopping Alec mid-flow. He was right, there was no point trying to explain.
"The rest is down to you, Richie," Nate said. Richie nodded and shook Nate's hand.
"Shouldn't be hard, thanks to you."
"But what about your friend, is he okay? Even I was convinced he was dead," Sophie said.
"He's good, isn't he?" Richie said with a grin. Behind Sophie, Hardison gave him a conspiratorial wink. "Don't worry, he'll be fine. And with that great alias Alec built him he's already on his way to his new life."
"Least I could do for him," Alec said.
"Well, if you'll all excuse me, I have to prepare my speech to the judge for the morning."
*_*
"As you can see from the overwhelming evidence I've presented, in conjunction with the confession of the clearly alive Mr. Cochrane that he faked his murder and maliciously framed my client, I ask that the court immediately dismiss all charges and release my client," Richie finished his closing speech to the judge.
The DA stood up from her desk to address the court.
"The prosecution concurs and we also suggest that Mr. Cochrane be immediately put into custody for perverting the course of justice, with further charges to be added once the evidence of his own criminal activities has been fully investigated," she said.
The judge agreed, and all charges were dropped. Cochrane was taken into custody, and once the slow wheels of bureaucracy had completed the relevant paperwork Amanda was released from prison.
Richie was waiting for her outside the prison gates. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
"Well done, Richie. I knew you wouldn't let me down. And Declan behind bars is added icing on the cake! I heard he's getting ten years for all the dirty deals that Franklin Cochrane the Third did. And all his assets were seized by the government," she said with glee as they walked to his car.
"Shouldn't we be worried about him? An Immortal behind bars for a decade, someone might notice he's not getting older," Richie asked.
"Oh, I'm sure Declan will have something arranged. We'll probably hear he got shanked by another prisoner. But then he'll have to leave the country, start over. And this time he won't have any of the Cochrane fortune to do it with," Amanda replied with a smile. "Now, I think I owe you and your friends. Dinner is the least I can do."
Richie paused to open his car door and smiled.
"Great. I know this fantastic microbrewery with a really talented chef."
END
Author: Jamie and his Magic Torch
Written for: argentum_ls
Characters/Pairings: Amanda, Richie, Alec Hardison, Elliott Spencer, Parker, Sophie Devereaux, Nate Ford
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 4,000
Author's Notes: Crossover with Leverage. Hopefully no knowledge of that show required.
Summary: Amanda finds herself in prison for a murder she didn't commit. Her brilliant lawyer, Richard Barrett (Richie), knows she didn't do it, but the evidence is overwhelming. What they need is a little Leverage.
The Loch Job
It was early hours of the morning and Amanda was sleeping peacefully in her bed when her phone started ringing. Almost instantly, she was awake and alert. Three rings on the landline, hang up then two rings and hang up; it was the code she'd established with her doorman to alert her to approaching police.
She quickly grabbed some clothes and was about to climb out the window, still in her nightdress, when she realised an unfamiliar thing; she'd done absolutely nothing wrong. There was no crime she had committed that could possibly have an outstanding warrant.
Before she could process the strange thoughts there was a loud banging on the door.
"Police! Open up!"
She hesitated at the window, before deciding to drop the clothes and go to open the door. But before she reached it, the door was rammed open in a shower of splinters from the frame and a dozen armed police entered the apartment.
"Amanda Bisset, you are under arrest for the murder of Franklin Cochrane the Third," said an alarmingly burly and grim looking detective who was pointing the barrel of a decidedly non-standard issue .45 at her. The immediate impression he gave Amanda was of a cross between a less attractive Nick Wolfe and Lieutenant Columbo minus the twinkle in the eye.
Casually she raised her hands in surrender.
"You have definitely made a mistake, I haven't killed anyone," she replied, adding a silent caveat of lately in her head.
"You can explain it at the station," the detective said curtly.
"Why, officer, in my nightclothes? When I don't even know your name? At least let me get dressed and call my lawyer so he can meet us at the precinct," she said coquettishly. It was worth a try; her charms had worked in the past.
"Fine. Officer Williams, escort Miss Bisset to get dressed and then let her call her lawyer before bringing her downtown," the detective snapped the order at a young female officer near him. She nodded and hurried Amanda into the bedroom.
"Your boss doesn't seem very friendly," Amanda commented as she pulled on a pair of pants and a top.
"The Lieutenant comes down hard on killers. But he's a good guy, fair. If you're innocent he's the right guy to investigate."
"Comforting to know, Officer Williams," Amanda said with barely contained sarcasm. She finished dressing and then went to call the best lawyer she knew.
*_*
"It's not looking good, Amanda," Richie said as he sat opposite her at the prison. "They've got blood and fingerprints that put you at the scene, the stolen jewellery was located in a safe deposit under one of your known aliases and a witness puts you in the building two nights before the crime."
"Don't sugar coat it, darling, tell me the worst of it," she replied with a grin but Richie didn't return it.
"The worst of it is the judge won't grant bail. He says that it's such a high profile case he wants to limit press coverage. Personally I don't disagree; we need to keep our faces off the six o'clock news as much as possible, but it makes any escape plan more difficult."
"Escape?! Richie, I'm being framed here! I've never killed for a job, it's far too crass. You believe me, don't you? If you don't believe I'm innocent then what chance do I have?"
"Of course I know you didn't do this. Apart from anything else, you would never leave such an obvious trail. But I don't think the 'my client is a brilliant cat burglar with a thousand years' experience' defence will fly with the jury," Richie replied, and this time he smiled briefly before growing serious again. "But the evidence is pretty conclusive. We need leverage and I don't have any."
"Do you have the case file with you? They wouldn't let me see at the police precinct, so I haven't even seen the man I supposedly killed."
Richie pulled a manilla folder from his briefcase and opened it to an 8x10 photo before passing it to Amanda. She looked closely at it for a few moments and then began to laugh.
"Care to let me in on the joke?" he prompted. Amanda poked the picture.
"It all makes sense now. That twisted bastard. That is not Franklin Cochrane the Third; that is Declan McDonald. He's one of us, and he's got a grudge against me. Obviously he figured this was a better revenge than my head. Ooh, wait until I get my hands on him," she explained.
"So he's still alive. If we could prove that without revealing his Immortality, that would fix everything!" Richie said.
"And how exactly would we do that?" Amanda asked.
"I said we need leverage, and I think I know just where we can get it."
*_*
One of the few mortals who knew Richie's secret, Alec Hardison was a good friend and the guy that had taught Richie everything he knew about computers. Hardison was now part of a group who called themselves Leverage Inc. and acted as latter day Robin Hoods, conning the rich and powerful to help the innocent. So that was why Richie had just spent half an hour in a microbrewery with his friend Alec, explaining the dilemma Amanda was in to the man seated opposite, Nate Ford. Minus the Immortal details of course.
"So that's the story, Mr. Ford. Alec tells me that you'll be able to help, I hope that's true," Richie finished.
"Helping free someone framed for murder does sound like the kind of thing we do, Mr. Barrett," Ford replied to Richie. Richie started to smile but Ford held up a hand to stall him. "But I hardly think that Amanda Montrose, or Bisset or whatever her current alias is, can be considered innocent. There are plenty of crimes she did commit and got away with."
"Never murder," Richie protested.
"Maybe, but there are other, more... deserving candidates out there."
"Nate, I owe Richie. He saved my life," Hardison interjected. "And none of us is in a place to cast stones, you know what I'm saying?" he added in a stage whisper.
"I'm sorry, but no," Ford said and stood to leave. As he walked away from the table, Richie spoke.
"She said you might refuse. She said if you did, to remind you of Montreal," he said.
Ford stopped but didn't turn around.
"Good day, Mr. Barrett."
*_*
Twenty minutes later, Hardison and Ford stood in a back room of the pub along with the rest of their team: the enigmatic con-artiste Sophie Devereaux, the best muscle for hire Elliott Spencer and the only thief that could give Amanda a run for her money, the ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag that is Parker.
"That's the case. I need to do this because I owe Amanda. Hardison wants to do it for Richie, but I'm not asking any of you to be involved," Nate explained to the team as Hardison finished displaying all the evidence against Amanda on the big screen.
"I wouldn't be here without Amanda. I'm in," said Parker. At a raised eyebrow from Alec she added with a big grin, "There was this little misunderstanding with the Russian police, and a Stradivarius of questionable origin."
"I'm in," Elliott said without further explanation. There was however a very fond smile on his face.
"Well, I'd look terrible if I said no now, wouldn't I?" Sophie said. "Count me in. So, how do you want to do this?"
"The cat in the bag," Nate replied.
"Don't you mean the pig in the poke?" Sophie said.
"Potayto, potarto," Nate replied. "The point is we're going to offer him something he can't refuse. When he comes out of hiding to get it, we'll prove he's alive and free Amanda."
"Richie told us that Cochrane's descended from a Scot who fought for Bonnie Prince Charlie and he's obsessed with this," Hardison said and pressed a button on the remote to bring up a series of images on the big screen.
"The treasure of Loch Arkaig," Nate continued.
"Oh, I've heard of this," Sophie interrupted. "It's supposedly a forgotten cache of Jacobite gold, buried somewhere in the wilds of Scotland."
"And as a descendent of one of the soldiers the gold was intended to pay, Cochrane believes he has a claim on the treasure," Nate confirmed. "So we are going to give it to him."
"What about Treasure Trove?" Sophie asked "If the treasure were discovered and declared legally the Scottish government would claim it."
"Then we make it found illegally," Nate answered.
"Oh, throw in a little Spanish Prisoner, you mean? Well, I dinnae think that'll be no bad thing," Sophie said, slipping into a cliché Scots accent.
"Actually, Sophie, that's not quite what I had in mind. Hardison, your job is to locate Cochrane and then lure him to the sale. Sophie, you are going to be the crooked curator, willing to run the black market auction where Campbell Price is going to part with his most treasured family heirloom," Nate explained before nodding to Hardison who pressed the remote to bring up a drivers licence for 'Campbell Price'. The picture on the licence was of Elliott.
"No. No, I can't do a Scottish accent!" he protested.
"That's the beauty of this alias, you don't have to. Price is third generation, born and raised in the USA. Owns a big plastic manufacturing company," Hardison explained, pride in his work showing on his face.
"Hardison created the false story that Price is embezzling and he needs to sell the gold fast before the accountants realise and he ends up in jail," Nate finished.
"Just a few leaked memos and FBI reports on Wikileaks, a few rumours on Twitter. It snowballed from there," Alec said with a grin. Nate clapped his hands together and stood up.
"Ok, let's go steal a museum"
*_*
Richie sat in a coffee shop with Hardison, who had just filled him in on the broad strokes of Nate's plan. Richie was skeptical, but he trusted Alec and Alec trusted his team.
"Thanks to you I was able to hack the Watcher database and find out that Cochrane, or McDonald, is actually here in Portland. Really lucky coincidence," Alec said.
"I doubt it. Bastard probably wants to watch Amanda go down."
"Well, whatever the reason it helps us. Wheels are in motion right now. We were hoping you could be Elliott's lawyer, lend some legitimacy to the alias?" Alec asked. Richie shook his head.
"I don't know if Cochrane knows who I am. And he would know I'm Immortal, it might complicate things."
"That's cool, man, you can help me with the tech. Wait until you see Lucille," Alec said with a grin.
"I can't wait. But actually, I think I just got a better idea," he answered with a bigger smile.
*_*
The next day, Sophie had conned her way into the curatorial staff of a local museum and Hardison had backstopped her alias as a visiting expert in the Jacobite Rebellion from Oxford with impeccable credentials named Professor Elizabeth Shaw.
Hardison had melted down some gold that Parker had acquired to create replicas of the coins that would have been in the treasure. They only needed a few for Cochrane to examine up close; the rest only had to be gold and old to pass cursory photographic inspection.
"You sure you're up for this, Barrett?" Elliott asked as he and Richie walked towards the museum. Richie chuckled.
"Let's just say I wasn't exactly a law abiding citizen before Law School," he replied. "I'll be fine."
They met Sophie at the museum entrance, who led them to an office upstairs. As they approached, Richie felt the presence of an Immortal. They passed a member of the museum staff in the corridor, who looked at them with open curiosity, but with a smile and a friendly greeting from Sophie he soon moved on.
They entered the office to find Cochrane waiting, along with another man, and both stood when they entered. Cochrane seemed briefly confused by Richie's presence, but he quickly recovered, smiled and held out his hand to Elliott.
"Mr. Price," he said as Elliott shook the hand. Elliott nodded.
"And this is my lawyer," he said. Cochrane nodded and then shook Richie's hand. "And you're Mr. McAvoy?"
"That's right. I hope nobody minds, and no insult intended to Professor Shaw, but I brought my own expert. Doctor Johnson here is an expert in numismatics. I hope you understand."
"Sure thing," Elliott replied. Sophie smiled.
"It doesn't bother me in the slightest. I may be an expert in the Jacobite Rebellion but coinage is not really my field," she said. "Mr. Price, do you have the sample?"
Richie lifted up the briefcase he was carrying, opened the latches and then presented it to Elliott to open. Inside lay two of the coins Hardison had made and a series of photographs. Cochrane's coin expert took the pieces and began examining them, while Cochrane examined the photographs.
"My great grand-pappy dug the treasure up back in the old country, 'bout a hundred years ago. They used some of it to come to the US, start up the factory. Of course we weren't in plastics then, it was rubber mouldings, but my grandfather had an eye for the future, moved into plastic when he saw that was the way ahead. We made so much money there was never a need to touch the rest of the treasure. But, I find myself needing a little spending money," Elliott explained.
"I've seen the reports on the Internet. Five million I believe?" Cochrane said. He turned to his expert, who nodded once, then turned to Sophie and handed her the photos. "Well, Professor, is it the treasure of Loch Arkaig?"
"Mr. Price's story certainly fits. And the pieces all fit the period. If your expert agrees on the age of the coins, then I say yes. I would not have agreed to risk my reputation arranging this buy if I wasn't sure of the provenance," Sophie replied.
Cochrane took one of the coins and lovingly turned it over in his hands.
"I've been looking for this for a long time. I'll offer you seven million for the treasure," he said.
Richie coughed politely.
"The asking price was fifteen, and the treasure is easily worth double that," he said.
"Yes, but your client is desperate. Tell you what, I'm feeling generous; let's say ten."
Richie started to protest, but Elliott held up a hand.
"Ten sounds good," he said. "I'll arrange for the rest to be delivered here, tonight, for collection. You transfer the funds to the account my lawyer will give you and the treasure is yours. As a gesture of good faith, you can keep those two coins."
Richie passed Cochrane a slip of paper, Cochrane and Elliott shook hands and then, after putting the coins back in the briefcase, Cochrane and his expert left.
"That seemed to go well," Richie commented. Elliott and Sophie said nothing.
*_*
It was a very nervous Richie that was sat in Lucille, listening on the comms to what was going on in the museum. Alec smiled and patted his arm.
"Don't sweat it, Rich. He bought the gold; the exchange is the simple bit."
Elliott entered the van at that moment and nodded to Richie before taking a seat.
"Simple? This is where it could all go wrong," Richie replied.
"Sophie is the best at what she does, Rich. Trust her to get it done," Alec replied.
"Aw, thank you Hardison," Sophie said over the comms. "Oop, here comes our boy. Good evening, Mr. McAvoy.
"Good evening, Professor Shaw. I hope you'll excuse me if I skip the pleasantries? I assume you have my gold?" Cochrane's voice was recognisable, picked up clearly by Hardison's clever little earwigs.
"Here it is, as arranged. Now, if you'll just transfer the funds to my client's account," Sophie said.
"You know, Professor, it strikes me that we're all alone down here and as this little extra-curricular activity of yours is unlikely to be sanctioned, I suspect nobody knows we're here. And if your client doesn't get the money he'll blame you. So there is nothing to stop me just taking the gold," Cochrane said.
"No honour among thieves? I recognised you, Mr. Cochrane. What if I were to call for security; you're supposed to be dead," Sophie said.
"That would be an unfortunate turn of events. For you."
There was silence and then a mechanical clicking could be heard over the comm. Elliott stood up at the noise.
"That's the sound of the safety on a .45 ACP Luger," he said. At Richie's skeptical look he added "It's a very distinctive sound." Then he headed out of the van at a run. After a brief glance at each other, Richie and Alec followed.
"Who else is here?" they heard Cochrane demand as the three raced toward the museum.
"I don't think there's anyone here... Oh, Doctor Price, what are you doing here so late?" Sophie said.
"I might ask the same," said a new voice. It was a man, with a dry British accent. Richie presumed it was the Doctor Price that Sophie mentioned. "I'm on to you, Shaw. People like you bring the whole archaeological field into disrepute! I've contacted the proper authorities, and there's no use trying to escape as they will be here any minute."
There were sounds of a struggle over the comms, and then a gunshot and Sophie screamed. As Richie, Elliott and Alec reached the basement, Cochrane came running out, the gold clutched to him and blood splatter on his clothes.
"Sophie!"
They entered the room to find Sophie, thankfully unharmed, standing over the body of a man.
"I'm okay, but let's go before the police arrive," she said, visibly shaken.
Elliott went chasing after Cochrane, leaving the other two to escort Sophie up and out the rear exit. When Elliott reached the main entrance, two of Cochrane's security detail were waiting, presumably to delay pursuers. Elliott smiled and dropped into a fighting stance before beckoning to the men.
*_*
Cochrane reached his car, but the driver's door hung open and the driver was missing.
"I'm sorry, but your man there found a sudden need to visit Bora Bora," said a voice behind him. He turned and Nate stepped out from the shadows. "We haven't met, my name is Nate Ford."
"Well, Mr. Ford, you clearly have no idea who you are dealing with," Cochrane sneered and pulled out his gun.
Suddenly the air filled with flashing lights and the wail of sirens as they were surrounded by police cars.
"There you are, Agent McSweeten; a very much alive Franklin Cochrane the third, in possession of the stolen Incan treasure and holding the gun he used to murder Doctor Matthew Pierce, curator of the exhibit," Nate said. A slender young man in a suit stepped forward, took the gold from a dumbfounded Cochrane and pulled out one of the coins to show that it was clearly Native South American in design.
"The FBI thanks you for your assistance. Oh, and please give my regards to Agent Hagen next time you see her," McSweeten said as another agent stepped forward and cuffed Cochrane.
*_*
Three Days Earlier
The gallery of South American Culture was dark and silent. In the middle of the gallery stood the prize of the museum's collection; a series of Incan gold coins and jewelry. The night guard made his round, his torch rejecting off the previous metal. Suspended forty feet above him was Parker, who waited with baited breath for him to pass.
Once he was gone, she quickly and quietly dropped down on an elaborate pulley system and removed the gold from its case with all her usual skill and efficiency. Within three minutes, both Parker and the gold were gone.
*_*
Richie walked into the morgue, having paid a sizeable bribe to the attendant. He walked along until he found the gurney with the body of Dr. Price. He unzipped the body bag and then held out the gym bag he was carrying. Price sat up and took the bag.
"Tell me it worked," he said.
"Like a charm," Richie replied. "Thanks, Old Man, Amanda really appreciates your help."
"It's fine. I was getting bored with Dr. Price anyway. I think I might go back to medicine," Methos replied. "But don't tell Amanda that, I want her thinking she owes me," he added. Richie laughed.
"Sure thing, Old Man."
*_*
Once Methos was safely on his way to his next alias, Richie's next stop was the micro-brewery to thank Nate and the others.
"That was a very complicated con, but it got the job done. We can't thank you enough," he said.
"It was never the pig in a poke, it was a Badger game all along," Hardison said with a grin. Nate smiled and nodded.
"Wait... The cat wasn't a pig, it was a badger?" Parker asked, a look of confusion on her face.
"No, there was no cat, no pig and no badger," Hardison started to explain, but Elliott laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head, stopping Alec mid-flow. He was right, there was no point trying to explain.
"The rest is down to you, Richie," Nate said. Richie nodded and shook Nate's hand.
"Shouldn't be hard, thanks to you."
"But what about your friend, is he okay? Even I was convinced he was dead," Sophie said.
"He's good, isn't he?" Richie said with a grin. Behind Sophie, Hardison gave him a conspiratorial wink. "Don't worry, he'll be fine. And with that great alias Alec built him he's already on his way to his new life."
"Least I could do for him," Alec said.
"Well, if you'll all excuse me, I have to prepare my speech to the judge for the morning."
*_*
"As you can see from the overwhelming evidence I've presented, in conjunction with the confession of the clearly alive Mr. Cochrane that he faked his murder and maliciously framed my client, I ask that the court immediately dismiss all charges and release my client," Richie finished his closing speech to the judge.
The DA stood up from her desk to address the court.
"The prosecution concurs and we also suggest that Mr. Cochrane be immediately put into custody for perverting the course of justice, with further charges to be added once the evidence of his own criminal activities has been fully investigated," she said.
The judge agreed, and all charges were dropped. Cochrane was taken into custody, and once the slow wheels of bureaucracy had completed the relevant paperwork Amanda was released from prison.
Richie was waiting for her outside the prison gates. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
"Well done, Richie. I knew you wouldn't let me down. And Declan behind bars is added icing on the cake! I heard he's getting ten years for all the dirty deals that Franklin Cochrane the Third did. And all his assets were seized by the government," she said with glee as they walked to his car.
"Shouldn't we be worried about him? An Immortal behind bars for a decade, someone might notice he's not getting older," Richie asked.
"Oh, I'm sure Declan will have something arranged. We'll probably hear he got shanked by another prisoner. But then he'll have to leave the country, start over. And this time he won't have any of the Cochrane fortune to do it with," Amanda replied with a smile. "Now, I think I owe you and your friends. Dinner is the least I can do."
Richie paused to open his car door and smiled.
"Great. I know this fantastic microbrewery with a really talented chef."
END