The Everlasting #6
Title: The Everlasting
Rating: PG-13 for now
Spoilers: Up through end of season 2
Pairing: Alec Hardison/ Eliot Spencer
Warnings: None for *this* chapter...
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
A/N: This is for cybel , who created the following awesome cover that I wanted to show off (thanks dearie!), so I figured I'd hide from the family for a bit (a break which was sorely needed) to do a superfast edit and post before I go drink my cousins under the table. I hadn't planned on leaving it off here, but a little something is better than nothing, right?
Story starts here.
Chapter 6
Alec was a little concerned when Eliot wasn't awake first, but mostly because he didn't know what to do with himself. Last night had been so easy, some old habit they'd both slipped into, but maybe it had all been accidental, leading to nothing more than lying here, trying to decide whether or not to get out of bed, leave before Eliot woke. It hadn't seemed such a big deal, last night. Nothing like a crisis.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, Alec had been used to waking up to an empty bed, getting up to find the coffee already made and Eliot up to his elbows in potting soil, or reading a book on the couch.
Now things were different. But the bed was warm, and he didn't really have to go to the bathroom all that badly, not really, and leaving him to wake alone suddenly wasn't as easy as it might have been. Their legs weren't tangled, just slotted together like loosely knit fingers, Eliot's thigh sprawled in between his own, warm breath steadily washing over his collarbone.
Alec shifted, half hoping to jostle him to awareness, his movements slight enough that he could deny his purpose if need be. Eliot twitched, asked "Hardison?" and went back to sleep before he could answer.
Alec could give it another hour. Maybe then he'd do something.
---
He lasted an hour and half, until the room started becoming uncomfortably warm and stuffy, and when he rose, Eliot barely stirred.
---
The supplies were starting to get dangerously low, and with Eliot here, he'd have to go out again soon, probably by the end of the month. He considered the safe with regret. There were two fewer carriers to pay out, but he still had to cover Eliot as well, and unless something worked out, soon, nobody would have anything with which to pay postage, anyway. Already the food supplies had begun dwindling, though he had an overstock of toothpaste and razors and shampoo. A few afternoons of lucky scrounging on the local blocks might put it off by a week, but the grocery store was long tapped out, as was the warehouse.
He pulled out some instant oatmeal and got the water boiling for coffee, and stared at the window wondering what things were going to look like when everyone finally ran out.
When Eliot finally came down, moving slowly, he was carrying his pack, but before Alec could wonder what that meant, he began to pull out cans and envelopes, setting them at the end of the counter.
"Don't know where you want me to put this stuff," he said, yawning as he reached for the thermos. "I can go out and look for more whenever, too. Pay my way. No problem."
"Right on," Alec nodded, regarding a ziplock bag full of hot chocolate packets, and decided that he could stop worrying for another day or so.
---
"So what's going on?" Eliot asked, shifting his pack and noting, again, the outline of the handgun stuck in Alec's waistband they rounded the last corner before the school. "What's with the tools?"
"They said they were going to have enough of the solar panels connected by today, so I can start hooking them up. You down to assist?"
"Sure," Eliot shrugged. He could see a few of them, now, on the roof of the school, and wondered how many more would need to be installed to actually run the building. "How much power is it going to put out?"
"As long as the roof of the school is kept clear of snow, enough to pump and heat a decent amount of water, long as nobody's prissy about their showers, and keep two classrooms going. Gonna mount more on the playground equipment when it's starts getting darker, get some lights going on inside."
As they reached the chain link fence, Eliot had to wonder how much good it would actually do against someone wanting to get in, and down the way, a few kids horsing around were proving his point. The guy standing at the entrance, however, seemed not to notice as he unlocked the laughable gate, and Eliot followed Hardison past the jungle gym and the swing set.
As defenses went, it was pretty weak, but he wasn't about to say so. Maybe it made them feel better, or something. Then again, if he understood it correctly, this entire place was kind of Parker's game, so when he spotted the rifles pointed out of some of the windows, he wasn't all that surprised.
Still, though, it just didn't feel right, all this firepower on the playground.
---
Heading through the building, Hardison stopped here and there to make introductions, or point out store rooms or the places where people were living, but Eliot was having a hard time paying attention. Nobody really knew where Parker stayed. Somewhere in the ceiling, apparently. It wasn't all that surprising.
He hadn't been ready, though, to see this many people in one place behaving themselves, but there were people scattered throughout the building, a woman doing some knitting in one corner, an older guy sanding some wood down by hand over in the shop. As they progressed through the halls, he could hear a woman's voice talking, and the sounds of kids laughing in response.
Class was in session. The world went on, apparently.
---
In what had to be one of the stranger jobs in his career as a retrieval specialist, Eliot unloaded his pack and handed over what had felt like thirty pounds of baby supplies to a woman named Lisa who looked like she'd need it, soon. While she and Hardison chatted, he pulled out the diapers and bottles and socks and formula and tried to imagine what it had to feel like to bring a kid into a world that looked like this. Couldn't do it. From the look in her eyes, she couldn't, either, so he didn't ask. Just listened as the small talk ran out, until the three of them were standing there, nobody saying much of anything.
He was relieved when they finally made it to the roof, and he was surprised to see that every available inch was covered in racks holding solar panels. A guy that looked to be about Alec's age came out from behind the array at the far end, waving them over, and a few minutes later, Eliot was drafted to start running wires.
For the first hour, it felt good to be doing something that felt like work again, but as the day wore on, the heat started to wear at him. By the end of it, though, apparently they'd be able to have more than one tiny refrigerator up and running, and a few fans as well.
Parker made her way up around four in the afternoon, still rubbing at her eyes and glaring balefully at the sun, fanning herself with an old magazine.
"There's nothing about this that is at all civilized," she grumbled, but Eliot as looked around, watching Alec testing another connection, he figured that this might be about as good as it got.
---
It was dark by the time they headed back, and if Alec was tired, then Eliot, staggering alongside him, had to be the walking dead. It set Alec's teeth on edge, cutting through a parking garage and heading into an alley, trying to see around corners, waiting for attack and wondering if Eliot could pull his weight. It wasn't until the office was in view that he relaxed enough to ask him, "You okay, man?"
"Fine, man. Just wore myself out on the trip up, you know?"
"Right on," Alec started to say, already thinking about what to do about dinner as he reached for the door handle, but Eliot pulled him up short.
"What?"
Someone's in there, Eliot glared, shut the hell up, shoving Alec to the wall in a move that had Alec automatically swinging to his hip to steady a computer bag that hadn't been there in months.
Peering through the dark window, he couldn't see what Eliot saw, at first, but then there was movement, over at the end of the counter, and it was enough to send Alec back against the wall, just in time to see who he thought was Mica coming from across the street.
Mica probably wouldn't be taking aim at him though, and as much as Alec would have liked to believe it was because Mica was a friend, practically, it was because he knew Mica carried a sawed off shotgun, not the gleaming silver handgun that was pointing at him.
Eliot noticed when Alec froze, turning slowly, glancing up along the upper windows of the buildings across the street as his eyes landed on the gunman.
"What do you want?" He called out, mirroring Alec's upturned hands.
"You two. Inside," the man shouted, and Alec wanted to laugh, even though it wasn't funny. That was our plan the entire time.
Alec wasn't surprised to find the lock completely destroyed as he followed Eliot through the door, but at least the men waiting inside hadn't ransacked the place.
No, this was going to be something else entirely. That was Cornelius, there, standing at the end.
---
Inside, Eliot found five more guys, almost comically well-dressed. They were players, who wanted everyone to know they were players. Eliot was guessing this was Cornelius's crew, but couldn't assume much of anything. He hadn't even gotten around to asking for a description, yet.
They were waved over to stand against the bulletin board where he noticed the pictures of some old acquaintances hanging among the other "Wanted" posters, and postage rate notices, before turning to keep his eye on the room. He was a little surprised to find five guns were trained on him and only one on Alec, who was standing a few feet away.
It wasn't a fifty-fifty split, and he couldn't figure out how they had any idea what Eliot could do to them, given half a chance, even this one. He watched carefully, looking for adjustments in their stance, any tells they might have had.
One of the men, a large guy who probably had a decent amount of muscle underneath all that girth, with olive skin and thick black hair, started talking to Alec.
"I know you know me, Mister Hardison, and I suspect you know why we're here. I want you to reach slowly for your gun and put it on the floor," he spoke to Alec, but his words told Eliot two things.
These guys had no idea who he was, but the number of guns they had on him wasn't because they'd him as a threat, it was the opposite. He was the hostage, Alec was what had them concerned, and if Alec fucked up, Eliot went down. That was the first.
They were cautious, too. They didn't know for sure that Alec would be at all swayed by Eliot's being shot, so the sixth gun was on him, just in case. There wasn't time for more than a flash of amusement that Alec would ever be perceived as the greater threat. The next few seconds were more useful.
Alec did as the man- who had to be Cornelius- said, telegraphing his every move.
"Now slide it across to me," Cornelius instructed, which told Eliot that the guy had some game. If Alec had slid it to the man aiming at him, it would have given Alec the chance to take advantage of that man's distraction.
On the practical side, it also meant Eliot couldn't take advantage of any distraction that Hardison would have caused, but it would've been a stupid play, anyhow. He waited, training his eyes on Cornelius in between carefully wary glances at the crew's guns. No need to tip his hat just yet.
"Alright, now to business," Cornelius said, lowering his gun and taking two steps in Hardison's direction. "I have a proposition for you. Our plan this morning was to kill you and take over your operation. However, when we arrived and I had the opportunity to examine the nuts and bolts, I've revised my plan."
"Oh yeah?" Alec asked, because that was what Cornelius had obviously been waiting for. Some indication that he was listening, willing to talk. Alec's gunman slipped behind Cornelius and reset his aim on Eliot. Things were running smoothly. No surprises. Eliot let himself relax, but only a little.
This was where he bided his time and hoped Hardison didn't fuck it all up.
"Yes. It would take a while for my men to learn how to run your operation on their own, and there would be a lag in services I would prefer to avoid. Because of that, I would like to keep you on as postmaster general," he said in a haughty tone, clearly amused by his own blathering.
"What does that entail?"
"I want you do what you do, and train my men to assist you. Make sure the mail gets to where it needs to be, and start pulling materials that I have an interest in. My men will inform you of what to look out for. You'd also be responsible for the front desk operations, as I believe that your place in the community will allow the operation to go more smoothly than it would were my representatives be used in that capacity. For better or worse, reputation gets around, and while a healthy wariness of us does serve us in most regards, it won't work if people are reluctant to come in, understand?"
"Yeah," Alec said, and Eliot shifted so that he could see him out of the corner of his eye without turning his head too far. "You want me to run the place under your new guidelines. You install your crew in the background. Basic merger."
"Yes, and nobody gets hurt. You yourself may soon be operating at a profit, should you prove yourself effective. You would, of course, be paid along the same terms that my men enjoy."
And this was the corner they'd been forced into. Outright denial meant a fight here and now, but complete capitulation would prove Alec could be strong-armed very easily in the future.
"What's the catch?" Alec asked, and Eliot very nearly breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't asked questions he didn't need the answers to, and he hadn't freaked out. He was keeping it rolling, not bringing it to a head. Smart boy.
"Of course, once operations resume, we will need to increase security," Cornelius said. "You will have to find other lodgings. I will be installing guards around the clock in a few days, giving you ample time to order your affairs."
It was a strange play on Cornelius' part, but thankfully, Alec saw it too. "Have to ask, man," Alec said, with just enough humor in his voice to show that he was on the ball, not enough to show that he was thrown by it. "Why wait? You know you've got the advantage here."
"It does neither of us any good to start screwing each other so early in the relationship. And frankly? There's nothing here, of yours, that we need or want." Cornelius glanced over in Eliot's direction, then signaled his men to lower their guns. "Do we have a deal?"
Alec seemed to give it some thought, but thankfully not too much. "Yeah, sure man, but I'm gonna need some time to clear out."
"Of course. When are you expecting your next delivery?"
"We're down to one guy, he's coming in day after tomorrow, I think. Pickup in the morning, drop off at night."
"Will he be on board?"
"He gonna get paid?"
"Of course, if he's amenable."
"Then yeah, probably. But he should hear it form me, first."
"Then we will come by two nights from now to begin. Is that acceptable?"
"Not a problem," Alec said.
"Then I will see you in two days. Good evening, gentlemen," Cornelius said, finally glancing again in Eliot's direction as he stepped towards the door.
"See ya," Alec nodded, waving as the men trailed out. "And for the record? You didn't need the guns." Eliot had to fight not to cringe.
"One can never be too careful," Cornelius shrugged, letting the door fall shut behind him as he left.
---
"What the hell was that?" Eliot growled, finally able to move once they'd gone. "People know when they're having their ass kissed."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Overselling the part and all that, you could've done it a thousand times better, blah, blah, blah." Hardison rolled his eyes. "But it's cool, man. Well. We've got an in, at least."
Eliot snorted. "You've got an in, it means you've got an in into their game. They're movin' in, Hardison. Here."
"Whatever, man," Alec said, walking towards the counter, and started straightening up, glancing at the open binders and folders scattered over the top, growing more distracted by them as he went.
"What is it?"
"Don't know yet, but." He glanced up. "It's weird, right? I mean, we figured they'd be moving in once their external resources were cut, right?"
"Yeah."
"But he didn't mention the postage."
"Don't doubt that they're going to take their share," Eliot warned.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But he was actually talking about training his guys in. They want access to the mail, not the postage." Suddenly he grimaced and slammed his hand on the counter. Damn it!"
"What?"
"Local mail is pretty much dead, within the neighborhoods. Pretty much everything is coming in, or going out of town."
Eliot shrugged. "So?"
"So. They've already got most of Boston. They wouldn't need the mail unless they were trying to communicate over longer distances. They're branching out."
"Shit." It made sense, but he hadn't honestly thought that anyone would be this organized, that they were that far ahead in the game. He glanced down at the binder Alec was staring at. "What's all that?"
"Postal service's emergency plan- or what there is of it- doesn't look like it was officially taken on. All the offices in the country had a draft on hand for review." Alec glanced up like he knew he was rambling, and cut himself off.
"This, here," he flipped through the thick stack of pages, revealing table after table after table. "These are the metrics they use for sorting and routing. Strictly office to office. So, you look here, zip codes and all that. They get sorted at central locations-"
"Yeah, I know all this-" Eliot had to fight off a yawn, but he was too concerned to be tired, really.
"This was all done electronically a year ago. But now there's no power, never mind all the other confusion. Getting the mail out to the transfer points at the guard posts is the biggest issue I've got to handle, but from there, they've got to get everything redistributed to get delivered to other transfer points, nation wide. Some of it was getting out on military trucks, but I'm guessing you weren't seeing too many of those on the road?"
"No."
"So it's all on foot. Something gets routed wrong because of human error, you're looking at month long delays on top of the time it takes in the first place."
"Okay, yeah." Eliot backed off. He'd never given it much thought. "But I never saw any mailmen out there."
"Doubt they're advertising their presence. We're back to the middle ages, here. Pony Express if we're lucky. Anyway. So Cornelius was looking at all this, and I'm thinking he did what everyone does when they're confronted with a bunch of un-interpreted data. He panicked."
It wasn't making enough sense, yet, to do anything but make Eliot uneasy. "So they're keeping you on to make sure they've got control of the information."
Alec's head bounced from side to side for a moment before he shrugged. "It's what I'd do."
"But what information? What do they need it for?"
"If they're letting us have the run of the place for the next day or two, then it can't be something that's here already," Alec shrugged, doubt flashing through his eyes. When he said, "I guess we'll have to wait and see when the mail comes," he probably didn't know that he was confirming the worst of Eliot's doubts.
"Nuh-uh, man." Eliot said, snorting to himself as he finally realized the play that was being made. "You start packing up." Glancing at the door, he jerked his head. "I gotta go out for a bit."
Hardison scoffed, trying to hide his sudden sharp concern. "You're gonna do something stupid, aren't you?"
"Relax, man. I'm just looking for another place to crash. Don't want anyone knowing where it is, so the fewer eyes on the street, the better." He ducked into the break room to grab a handful of candy bars. Bribes, in case he needed them.
"Any eyes on the street right now aren't going to be the ones you'd want finding you," Alec pointed out, though it sounded like he knew he was fighting a losing battle.
Eliot had run solo through Afghanistan with nothing more than a map that didn't show where the newest blocked roads had been. He'd walked blind through the tunnels of New York City. As ugly as this all was, he could handle a town he knew like the back of his hand.
He pretended to notice the thoughts so obviously crossing Alec's mind as he glanced over Eliot's body. If he didn't notice them, they couldn't gain purchase, and it wasn't like he didn't already know how tired he was.
"Hardison, I'll be fine," he assured him, stepping closer until only a few breaths stood between them. "I'll go out, see what I can see, and be back in a few hours. Just. Get your stuff together and be ready to go, alright?"
Alec nodded, nostrils flaring as he glanced out the windows. "Alright. Watch your back out there, you hear me?"
"Yeah."
---
Before he'd left, Alec had grabbed his shoulders and kissed him, quick and chaste, barely giving him enough time to respond. As he made his way out into the street, Eliot found himself almost wishing that he hadn't. It made it seem like a bigger deal than it was, Hardison being so nervous about it.
Then again, maybe he'd been onto him, suspecting that he'd been leaving something out. Or maybe knowing exactly what he'd been leaving out.
He needed intel. All that he could get.
Cornelius and his guys were on foot, and it was late enough that they were probably heading back to their base, somewhere on the west side. Anyone out on the street would have recognized them, and with any luck, the watchmen patrolling the area around the school would be able to tell him something.
All Eliot needed was enough information to leapfrog ahead of Cornelius, get in, keep low, and figure out the next part of the plan. The shortcut to the school Alec had shown him seemed the best route, so he hurried his steps, unaware of the eyes that followed him from the third floor of the parking garage across the street.
He kept to the shadows, listening carefully for the sounds of anything. Gave a wide berth to the first shadow he saw, standing in the doorway of the corner café, the moment he noticed the gun. Took another breath once he'd turned down the street, passing without incident.
A few blocks away, shots were fired from a Springfield 9 Mil. There were no return shots, and Eliot quickened his pace.
Any minute now, he'd be hitting the gangland buffer around the school, so he took his hands out of his pockets, keeping carefully to the middle of the street and walking steadily. When the flashlights suddenly glared in his eye, he was careful not to flinch.
"What's your name?" A woman's voice called out from the left as he squinted sidelong to catch the glare of what looked to be an M4 Carbine, maybe a Bushmaster-it was hard to tell in the darkness- being aimed his way.
"Eliot Spencer. Friend of Parker's. I'm unarmed," he hadn't finished saying when he saw the gun being lowered.
"He's cool," the gunman's voice called out, and Eliot thought he recognized it. One of the guys he'd met at the school, probably. It was hard to tell.
"It's clear from here on in," the woman said, swinging the flashlight to swing down the street. "Have a nice night."
Eliot didn't drop his guard as he headed onwards, so when he'd nearly reached the edge of the playground, the sound of the swings creaking in the wind didn't distract him from the scuffing noise of footfalls stepping suddenly behind him.
Instantly, he knew he'd fucked up.
Cornelius hadn't given them a two day's notice out of the kindness of his heart. He'd wanted a chance to see what they'd do. It was spy versus spy, and he'd led them straight to Parker.
He could afford a few more steps before it became obvious that he was playing for time. Any second now, he'd have to turn around.
---
Chapter 7
Rating: PG-13 for now
Spoilers: Up through end of season 2
Pairing: Alec Hardison/ Eliot Spencer
Warnings: None for *this* chapter...
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
A/N: This is for cybel , who created the following awesome cover that I wanted to show off (thanks dearie!), so I figured I'd hide from the family for a bit (a break which was sorely needed) to do a superfast edit and post before I go drink my cousins under the table. I hadn't planned on leaving it off here, but a little something is better than nothing, right?
Story starts here.
Chapter 6
Alec was a little concerned when Eliot wasn't awake first, but mostly because he didn't know what to do with himself. Last night had been so easy, some old habit they'd both slipped into, but maybe it had all been accidental, leading to nothing more than lying here, trying to decide whether or not to get out of bed, leave before Eliot woke. It hadn't seemed such a big deal, last night. Nothing like a crisis.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, Alec had been used to waking up to an empty bed, getting up to find the coffee already made and Eliot up to his elbows in potting soil, or reading a book on the couch.
Now things were different. But the bed was warm, and he didn't really have to go to the bathroom all that badly, not really, and leaving him to wake alone suddenly wasn't as easy as it might have been. Their legs weren't tangled, just slotted together like loosely knit fingers, Eliot's thigh sprawled in between his own, warm breath steadily washing over his collarbone.
Alec shifted, half hoping to jostle him to awareness, his movements slight enough that he could deny his purpose if need be. Eliot twitched, asked "Hardison?" and went back to sleep before he could answer.
Alec could give it another hour. Maybe then he'd do something.
---
He lasted an hour and half, until the room started becoming uncomfortably warm and stuffy, and when he rose, Eliot barely stirred.
---
The supplies were starting to get dangerously low, and with Eliot here, he'd have to go out again soon, probably by the end of the month. He considered the safe with regret. There were two fewer carriers to pay out, but he still had to cover Eliot as well, and unless something worked out, soon, nobody would have anything with which to pay postage, anyway. Already the food supplies had begun dwindling, though he had an overstock of toothpaste and razors and shampoo. A few afternoons of lucky scrounging on the local blocks might put it off by a week, but the grocery store was long tapped out, as was the warehouse.
He pulled out some instant oatmeal and got the water boiling for coffee, and stared at the window wondering what things were going to look like when everyone finally ran out.
When Eliot finally came down, moving slowly, he was carrying his pack, but before Alec could wonder what that meant, he began to pull out cans and envelopes, setting them at the end of the counter.
"Don't know where you want me to put this stuff," he said, yawning as he reached for the thermos. "I can go out and look for more whenever, too. Pay my way. No problem."
"Right on," Alec nodded, regarding a ziplock bag full of hot chocolate packets, and decided that he could stop worrying for another day or so.
---
"So what's going on?" Eliot asked, shifting his pack and noting, again, the outline of the handgun stuck in Alec's waistband they rounded the last corner before the school. "What's with the tools?"
"They said they were going to have enough of the solar panels connected by today, so I can start hooking them up. You down to assist?"
"Sure," Eliot shrugged. He could see a few of them, now, on the roof of the school, and wondered how many more would need to be installed to actually run the building. "How much power is it going to put out?"
"As long as the roof of the school is kept clear of snow, enough to pump and heat a decent amount of water, long as nobody's prissy about their showers, and keep two classrooms going. Gonna mount more on the playground equipment when it's starts getting darker, get some lights going on inside."
As they reached the chain link fence, Eliot had to wonder how much good it would actually do against someone wanting to get in, and down the way, a few kids horsing around were proving his point. The guy standing at the entrance, however, seemed not to notice as he unlocked the laughable gate, and Eliot followed Hardison past the jungle gym and the swing set.
As defenses went, it was pretty weak, but he wasn't about to say so. Maybe it made them feel better, or something. Then again, if he understood it correctly, this entire place was kind of Parker's game, so when he spotted the rifles pointed out of some of the windows, he wasn't all that surprised.
Still, though, it just didn't feel right, all this firepower on the playground.
---
Heading through the building, Hardison stopped here and there to make introductions, or point out store rooms or the places where people were living, but Eliot was having a hard time paying attention. Nobody really knew where Parker stayed. Somewhere in the ceiling, apparently. It wasn't all that surprising.
He hadn't been ready, though, to see this many people in one place behaving themselves, but there were people scattered throughout the building, a woman doing some knitting in one corner, an older guy sanding some wood down by hand over in the shop. As they progressed through the halls, he could hear a woman's voice talking, and the sounds of kids laughing in response.
Class was in session. The world went on, apparently.
---
In what had to be one of the stranger jobs in his career as a retrieval specialist, Eliot unloaded his pack and handed over what had felt like thirty pounds of baby supplies to a woman named Lisa who looked like she'd need it, soon. While she and Hardison chatted, he pulled out the diapers and bottles and socks and formula and tried to imagine what it had to feel like to bring a kid into a world that looked like this. Couldn't do it. From the look in her eyes, she couldn't, either, so he didn't ask. Just listened as the small talk ran out, until the three of them were standing there, nobody saying much of anything.
He was relieved when they finally made it to the roof, and he was surprised to see that every available inch was covered in racks holding solar panels. A guy that looked to be about Alec's age came out from behind the array at the far end, waving them over, and a few minutes later, Eliot was drafted to start running wires.
For the first hour, it felt good to be doing something that felt like work again, but as the day wore on, the heat started to wear at him. By the end of it, though, apparently they'd be able to have more than one tiny refrigerator up and running, and a few fans as well.
Parker made her way up around four in the afternoon, still rubbing at her eyes and glaring balefully at the sun, fanning herself with an old magazine.
"There's nothing about this that is at all civilized," she grumbled, but Eliot as looked around, watching Alec testing another connection, he figured that this might be about as good as it got.
---
It was dark by the time they headed back, and if Alec was tired, then Eliot, staggering alongside him, had to be the walking dead. It set Alec's teeth on edge, cutting through a parking garage and heading into an alley, trying to see around corners, waiting for attack and wondering if Eliot could pull his weight. It wasn't until the office was in view that he relaxed enough to ask him, "You okay, man?"
"Fine, man. Just wore myself out on the trip up, you know?"
"Right on," Alec started to say, already thinking about what to do about dinner as he reached for the door handle, but Eliot pulled him up short.
"What?"
Someone's in there, Eliot glared, shut the hell up, shoving Alec to the wall in a move that had Alec automatically swinging to his hip to steady a computer bag that hadn't been there in months.
Peering through the dark window, he couldn't see what Eliot saw, at first, but then there was movement, over at the end of the counter, and it was enough to send Alec back against the wall, just in time to see who he thought was Mica coming from across the street.
Mica probably wouldn't be taking aim at him though, and as much as Alec would have liked to believe it was because Mica was a friend, practically, it was because he knew Mica carried a sawed off shotgun, not the gleaming silver handgun that was pointing at him.
Eliot noticed when Alec froze, turning slowly, glancing up along the upper windows of the buildings across the street as his eyes landed on the gunman.
"What do you want?" He called out, mirroring Alec's upturned hands.
"You two. Inside," the man shouted, and Alec wanted to laugh, even though it wasn't funny. That was our plan the entire time.
Alec wasn't surprised to find the lock completely destroyed as he followed Eliot through the door, but at least the men waiting inside hadn't ransacked the place.
No, this was going to be something else entirely. That was Cornelius, there, standing at the end.
---
Inside, Eliot found five more guys, almost comically well-dressed. They were players, who wanted everyone to know they were players. Eliot was guessing this was Cornelius's crew, but couldn't assume much of anything. He hadn't even gotten around to asking for a description, yet.
They were waved over to stand against the bulletin board where he noticed the pictures of some old acquaintances hanging among the other "Wanted" posters, and postage rate notices, before turning to keep his eye on the room. He was a little surprised to find five guns were trained on him and only one on Alec, who was standing a few feet away.
It wasn't a fifty-fifty split, and he couldn't figure out how they had any idea what Eliot could do to them, given half a chance, even this one. He watched carefully, looking for adjustments in their stance, any tells they might have had.
One of the men, a large guy who probably had a decent amount of muscle underneath all that girth, with olive skin and thick black hair, started talking to Alec.
"I know you know me, Mister Hardison, and I suspect you know why we're here. I want you to reach slowly for your gun and put it on the floor," he spoke to Alec, but his words told Eliot two things.
These guys had no idea who he was, but the number of guns they had on him wasn't because they'd him as a threat, it was the opposite. He was the hostage, Alec was what had them concerned, and if Alec fucked up, Eliot went down. That was the first.
They were cautious, too. They didn't know for sure that Alec would be at all swayed by Eliot's being shot, so the sixth gun was on him, just in case. There wasn't time for more than a flash of amusement that Alec would ever be perceived as the greater threat. The next few seconds were more useful.
Alec did as the man- who had to be Cornelius- said, telegraphing his every move.
"Now slide it across to me," Cornelius instructed, which told Eliot that the guy had some game. If Alec had slid it to the man aiming at him, it would have given Alec the chance to take advantage of that man's distraction.
On the practical side, it also meant Eliot couldn't take advantage of any distraction that Hardison would have caused, but it would've been a stupid play, anyhow. He waited, training his eyes on Cornelius in between carefully wary glances at the crew's guns. No need to tip his hat just yet.
"Alright, now to business," Cornelius said, lowering his gun and taking two steps in Hardison's direction. "I have a proposition for you. Our plan this morning was to kill you and take over your operation. However, when we arrived and I had the opportunity to examine the nuts and bolts, I've revised my plan."
"Oh yeah?" Alec asked, because that was what Cornelius had obviously been waiting for. Some indication that he was listening, willing to talk. Alec's gunman slipped behind Cornelius and reset his aim on Eliot. Things were running smoothly. No surprises. Eliot let himself relax, but only a little.
This was where he bided his time and hoped Hardison didn't fuck it all up.
"Yes. It would take a while for my men to learn how to run your operation on their own, and there would be a lag in services I would prefer to avoid. Because of that, I would like to keep you on as postmaster general," he said in a haughty tone, clearly amused by his own blathering.
"What does that entail?"
"I want you do what you do, and train my men to assist you. Make sure the mail gets to where it needs to be, and start pulling materials that I have an interest in. My men will inform you of what to look out for. You'd also be responsible for the front desk operations, as I believe that your place in the community will allow the operation to go more smoothly than it would were my representatives be used in that capacity. For better or worse, reputation gets around, and while a healthy wariness of us does serve us in most regards, it won't work if people are reluctant to come in, understand?"
"Yeah," Alec said, and Eliot shifted so that he could see him out of the corner of his eye without turning his head too far. "You want me to run the place under your new guidelines. You install your crew in the background. Basic merger."
"Yes, and nobody gets hurt. You yourself may soon be operating at a profit, should you prove yourself effective. You would, of course, be paid along the same terms that my men enjoy."
And this was the corner they'd been forced into. Outright denial meant a fight here and now, but complete capitulation would prove Alec could be strong-armed very easily in the future.
"What's the catch?" Alec asked, and Eliot very nearly breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't asked questions he didn't need the answers to, and he hadn't freaked out. He was keeping it rolling, not bringing it to a head. Smart boy.
"Of course, once operations resume, we will need to increase security," Cornelius said. "You will have to find other lodgings. I will be installing guards around the clock in a few days, giving you ample time to order your affairs."
It was a strange play on Cornelius' part, but thankfully, Alec saw it too. "Have to ask, man," Alec said, with just enough humor in his voice to show that he was on the ball, not enough to show that he was thrown by it. "Why wait? You know you've got the advantage here."
"It does neither of us any good to start screwing each other so early in the relationship. And frankly? There's nothing here, of yours, that we need or want." Cornelius glanced over in Eliot's direction, then signaled his men to lower their guns. "Do we have a deal?"
Alec seemed to give it some thought, but thankfully not too much. "Yeah, sure man, but I'm gonna need some time to clear out."
"Of course. When are you expecting your next delivery?"
"We're down to one guy, he's coming in day after tomorrow, I think. Pickup in the morning, drop off at night."
"Will he be on board?"
"He gonna get paid?"
"Of course, if he's amenable."
"Then yeah, probably. But he should hear it form me, first."
"Then we will come by two nights from now to begin. Is that acceptable?"
"Not a problem," Alec said.
"Then I will see you in two days. Good evening, gentlemen," Cornelius said, finally glancing again in Eliot's direction as he stepped towards the door.
"See ya," Alec nodded, waving as the men trailed out. "And for the record? You didn't need the guns." Eliot had to fight not to cringe.
"One can never be too careful," Cornelius shrugged, letting the door fall shut behind him as he left.
---
"What the hell was that?" Eliot growled, finally able to move once they'd gone. "People know when they're having their ass kissed."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Overselling the part and all that, you could've done it a thousand times better, blah, blah, blah." Hardison rolled his eyes. "But it's cool, man. Well. We've got an in, at least."
Eliot snorted. "You've got an in, it means you've got an in into their game. They're movin' in, Hardison. Here."
"Whatever, man," Alec said, walking towards the counter, and started straightening up, glancing at the open binders and folders scattered over the top, growing more distracted by them as he went.
"What is it?"
"Don't know yet, but." He glanced up. "It's weird, right? I mean, we figured they'd be moving in once their external resources were cut, right?"
"Yeah."
"But he didn't mention the postage."
"Don't doubt that they're going to take their share," Eliot warned.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But he was actually talking about training his guys in. They want access to the mail, not the postage." Suddenly he grimaced and slammed his hand on the counter. Damn it!"
"What?"
"Local mail is pretty much dead, within the neighborhoods. Pretty much everything is coming in, or going out of town."
Eliot shrugged. "So?"
"So. They've already got most of Boston. They wouldn't need the mail unless they were trying to communicate over longer distances. They're branching out."
"Shit." It made sense, but he hadn't honestly thought that anyone would be this organized, that they were that far ahead in the game. He glanced down at the binder Alec was staring at. "What's all that?"
"Postal service's emergency plan- or what there is of it- doesn't look like it was officially taken on. All the offices in the country had a draft on hand for review." Alec glanced up like he knew he was rambling, and cut himself off.
"This, here," he flipped through the thick stack of pages, revealing table after table after table. "These are the metrics they use for sorting and routing. Strictly office to office. So, you look here, zip codes and all that. They get sorted at central locations-"
"Yeah, I know all this-" Eliot had to fight off a yawn, but he was too concerned to be tired, really.
"This was all done electronically a year ago. But now there's no power, never mind all the other confusion. Getting the mail out to the transfer points at the guard posts is the biggest issue I've got to handle, but from there, they've got to get everything redistributed to get delivered to other transfer points, nation wide. Some of it was getting out on military trucks, but I'm guessing you weren't seeing too many of those on the road?"
"No."
"So it's all on foot. Something gets routed wrong because of human error, you're looking at month long delays on top of the time it takes in the first place."
"Okay, yeah." Eliot backed off. He'd never given it much thought. "But I never saw any mailmen out there."
"Doubt they're advertising their presence. We're back to the middle ages, here. Pony Express if we're lucky. Anyway. So Cornelius was looking at all this, and I'm thinking he did what everyone does when they're confronted with a bunch of un-interpreted data. He panicked."
It wasn't making enough sense, yet, to do anything but make Eliot uneasy. "So they're keeping you on to make sure they've got control of the information."
Alec's head bounced from side to side for a moment before he shrugged. "It's what I'd do."
"But what information? What do they need it for?"
"If they're letting us have the run of the place for the next day or two, then it can't be something that's here already," Alec shrugged, doubt flashing through his eyes. When he said, "I guess we'll have to wait and see when the mail comes," he probably didn't know that he was confirming the worst of Eliot's doubts.
"Nuh-uh, man." Eliot said, snorting to himself as he finally realized the play that was being made. "You start packing up." Glancing at the door, he jerked his head. "I gotta go out for a bit."
Hardison scoffed, trying to hide his sudden sharp concern. "You're gonna do something stupid, aren't you?"
"Relax, man. I'm just looking for another place to crash. Don't want anyone knowing where it is, so the fewer eyes on the street, the better." He ducked into the break room to grab a handful of candy bars. Bribes, in case he needed them.
"Any eyes on the street right now aren't going to be the ones you'd want finding you," Alec pointed out, though it sounded like he knew he was fighting a losing battle.
Eliot had run solo through Afghanistan with nothing more than a map that didn't show where the newest blocked roads had been. He'd walked blind through the tunnels of New York City. As ugly as this all was, he could handle a town he knew like the back of his hand.
He pretended to notice the thoughts so obviously crossing Alec's mind as he glanced over Eliot's body. If he didn't notice them, they couldn't gain purchase, and it wasn't like he didn't already know how tired he was.
"Hardison, I'll be fine," he assured him, stepping closer until only a few breaths stood between them. "I'll go out, see what I can see, and be back in a few hours. Just. Get your stuff together and be ready to go, alright?"
Alec nodded, nostrils flaring as he glanced out the windows. "Alright. Watch your back out there, you hear me?"
"Yeah."
---
Before he'd left, Alec had grabbed his shoulders and kissed him, quick and chaste, barely giving him enough time to respond. As he made his way out into the street, Eliot found himself almost wishing that he hadn't. It made it seem like a bigger deal than it was, Hardison being so nervous about it.
Then again, maybe he'd been onto him, suspecting that he'd been leaving something out. Or maybe knowing exactly what he'd been leaving out.
He needed intel. All that he could get.
Cornelius and his guys were on foot, and it was late enough that they were probably heading back to their base, somewhere on the west side. Anyone out on the street would have recognized them, and with any luck, the watchmen patrolling the area around the school would be able to tell him something.
All Eliot needed was enough information to leapfrog ahead of Cornelius, get in, keep low, and figure out the next part of the plan. The shortcut to the school Alec had shown him seemed the best route, so he hurried his steps, unaware of the eyes that followed him from the third floor of the parking garage across the street.
He kept to the shadows, listening carefully for the sounds of anything. Gave a wide berth to the first shadow he saw, standing in the doorway of the corner café, the moment he noticed the gun. Took another breath once he'd turned down the street, passing without incident.
A few blocks away, shots were fired from a Springfield 9 Mil. There were no return shots, and Eliot quickened his pace.
Any minute now, he'd be hitting the gangland buffer around the school, so he took his hands out of his pockets, keeping carefully to the middle of the street and walking steadily. When the flashlights suddenly glared in his eye, he was careful not to flinch.
"What's your name?" A woman's voice called out from the left as he squinted sidelong to catch the glare of what looked to be an M4 Carbine, maybe a Bushmaster-it was hard to tell in the darkness- being aimed his way.
"Eliot Spencer. Friend of Parker's. I'm unarmed," he hadn't finished saying when he saw the gun being lowered.
"He's cool," the gunman's voice called out, and Eliot thought he recognized it. One of the guys he'd met at the school, probably. It was hard to tell.
"It's clear from here on in," the woman said, swinging the flashlight to swing down the street. "Have a nice night."
Eliot didn't drop his guard as he headed onwards, so when he'd nearly reached the edge of the playground, the sound of the swings creaking in the wind didn't distract him from the scuffing noise of footfalls stepping suddenly behind him.
Instantly, he knew he'd fucked up.
Cornelius hadn't given them a two day's notice out of the kindness of his heart. He'd wanted a chance to see what they'd do. It was spy versus spy, and he'd led them straight to Parker.
He could afford a few more steps before it became obvious that he was playing for time. Any second now, he'd have to turn around.
---
Chapter 7