The Conmen Cometh - prt 3
Parker waited impatiently at the entrance to Hardison’s dorm. He came running up behind her. “Look I’m sorry I’m late. I just got caught up playing games with the guys. I was kicking some butt.” A woman walked by and called out to him, “Hey, HP!” Hardison waved back to her and then turned back to Parker. She handed him a paper.
“Here’s your homework, HP,” she said sarcastically.
“What? Oh, wow. I kind of dropped this class,” Hardison said, kind of nervously.
“You mean you dropped it, uh, before or after you asked me to write a ten page paper on the history of cross-stitching in America?” Parker huffed angrily.
“Parker, I don’t really go to this school. You know that, right?” Hardison said.
“Yeah, yeah. I guess I didn’t really do your homework.” Parker said grabbing back her paper and ripping it up before walking away.
Hardison watched her walk away then made his way back to the dorm room he was using for this job. He’d call Parker once he got there, let her know he was sorry for putting her on the spot. He bumped into the tall gangly pledge along the hallway. Hardison watched him walk away. Another pledge met up with him and they both walked downstairs. They were so awkward, Hardison felt sorry for them, they’d never be Dustmen.
“Damn, gotta get out of this place, starting to agree with Zilgram,” Hardison thought to himself. He took out his ear bud and dialed Parker’s number. It went to voicemail. “Parker? It’s me, Hardison. Look, listen, I just wanted to talk about, you know, what happened earlier because…um, c-c-call me back.”
There was a knock on the door. Hardison answered it.
***
While Hardison and Parker had been talking, in the basesment of the Psychology department, the Suit and Travis were walking along the corridor leading to the cells. Travis was looking through a file. The Suit spoke, “The question I’m trying to answer is whether he’s active or not. Those are known associates.”
Travis looked through the file and found a picture of Hardison listed as a known associate.
“Well, the good news is, I can answer your question. Bad news is, he’s definitely active,” Travis said, handing the Suit Hardison’s picture.
“Then you make sure you take care of Mr. Hardison. I’ll have another chat with Mr. Spencer,” The Suit said, his tone approaching something like glee.
***
Hardison opened the door to his dorm and found Travis stood outside, holding a black envelope.
“I’m in?” Hardison laughed nervously.
“Read it and find out,” Travis said handing him the envelope. Hardison opened it and found a CIA file on himself. Travis pulled out a gun and pointed it at Hardison, then held out a black hood. “Put it on.”
Hardison did as he was told. He felt two sets of arms grab hold of him and march him out the room.
***
Parker answered the phone just as Hardison hung up. Annoyed as she was with him, they were on a job and there wasn’t time for personal insults to be traded. She walked towards his dorm. When she got to his room, she decided to tease him a little and held out a white handkerchief as she opened the door. “Hardison?” she called entering the room. It was empty. Then she saw the black envelope on the floor. She closed the door and picked up the envelope, saw the CIA file on Hardison and dialed Nate. “Nate, we have a problem,” she said, then she saw Hardison’s ear-piece on the floor and added, “Two problems actually.”
***
Eliot found himself sitting down at the Suit’s table again. A couple of snotty looking undergrads were on guard as well as the one who stunned him. Eliot settled himself and waited to see what sort of approach the Suit would take this interrogation. So far, he’d been pretty unimpressive. To the left of his peripheral vision were the cell doors and Eliot noticed that ‘vet 4’, the blond-haired man was observing him. Just back enough from the door so as not to appear obvious, but close enough that he could watch proceedings.
“Eliot, we need you on the outside,” Nate’s voice through the ear-piece interrupted Eliot’s thoughts.
“Why? What happened?” Eliot asked.
“They made Hardison, snatched him 10 minutes ago,” Nate said.
“Where’d they take him?” Eliot asked as the Suit entered the room.
“We don’t know,” Nate replied.
“Give me five minutes,” Eliot said to Nate as the Suit sat down opposite him.
“Five minutes?” the Suit raised an eyebrow. Eliot stood up and threw the table across the room. His attack on interrogator was so sudden and violent, it sent the snotty undergrads running out the room.
“We’re gonna do things a little bit differently today, all right? I ask, you answer. Now, I got four minutes to prove your theory wrong,” Eliot said increasing his grip on the man.
“What theory?” The interrogator asked, all pretense of decorum lost.
“That torture doesn’t work,” Eliot said flipping the interrogator on the floor and beating him. “Where is he?! Where is he?!”
The other veterans watched with satisfaction through the hatches of their cell doors. Eliot got up and threw a chair across the room, part anger, part frustration, “I know where they took Hardison,” he told Nate. He made his way over to the cells and began opening them. Mac grinned at him. “Took you long enough,” he said helping Eliot open the other cells.
‘Vet 4’ came out of his cell talking, “Sam? Things are moving here, what’s happening your end?” Eliot gave the man the once over and raised an eyebrow. Was there another con in play Nate didn’t know about?
‘Vet 4’ gave Eliot a cheeky grin and said, “My name’s Dean. Seems you and me are hunting the same bad guy. We’ll need to talk. You know McRory’s bar in town?”
Eliot nodded. “Good, go get your man, we’ll mop up here,” Dean said as another Vet knocked out an undergrad.
“Holy crap. That felt good,” the Vet said. The men behind him laughed in agreement. Eliot didn’t hang around and made his way out of the building. The Hunters Gather