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Eliot Spencer [Leverage] ([info]thatswhatido) wrote in [info]utr_logs,
@ 2010-01-17 00:31:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:eliot spencer, hardison, peter brown

Who: Pietro, Eliot, Hardison
What: Meeting
Where/When: Manhattan, backdated a couple nights ago when Pietro replied to Eliot's post with something of a business proposition
Warnings: Possible


Eliot had asked Hardison to go with him for two reasons. The first was that he trusted Hardison to keep his back, even if Hardison fought like a girl. But if that was the only stipulation, he could have asked any of the team to go with him. The second reason was that he wanted to get Hardison back in the game, make him feel needed before he had time to second guess it.

They made it to the club relatively easy, and as Pietro promised, the mention of his name was something of a magic code. The two were led inside following a hard stare, which Eliot returned in kind. He led the way, eyes alert and searching, noting the little details as he passed through the club.


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[info]thatswhatido
2010-01-17 06:21 am UTC (link)
"He's just doing his job," Eliot said. He didn't bother to answer Hardison's question. He gave Jack a glare for good measure, then turned his focus to Pietro, with a slight nod. He hoped Hardison had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

Eliot didn't sit, and wouldn't sit even if Pietro offered. His reaction time was better, from his feet. he didn't expect any problems, but he knew all too well things could go south, fast, in this sort of setting.

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[info]thebearclaw
2010-01-17 06:29 am UTC (link)
Pietro shrugged. "Doesn't give him a reason to harass my guests. You can sit, if you want," He could tell by the way Eliot was standing the guy was going to be a tough sell. Hardison, on the other hand, was all for feeling a little less like some sort of awkward punk. He took the chair across from Pietro, looking back at Eliot with a hint of confusion.

"Right, so-"

"So, Mr. Hardison, Mr. Spencer. Word on the street is, you're looking for a few outlets for your... particular talents."

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[info]thatswhatido
2010-01-17 07:49 pm UTC (link)
"I'll pass," Eliot said in response to the suggestion to sit. He didn't so much as glance at Hardison. Hardison didn't generally take part in this side of things, but Eliot felt better knowing he was there.

"You're the one who approached me about all this," Eliot said with a generic wave of his hand. He'd either gotten really lucky, or he did his research concerning Eliot's vehement dislike of the Riussians. Either way, once the Russians were brought in to the equation, Eliot's interest was peaked. Sticking it to the Russians always gave him a special little pleasure.

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[info]thebearclaw
2010-01-17 08:59 pm UTC (link)
"Mainly because I wanted the best. You know as well as I do, my usual crowd's not exactly known for their... discretion, when it comes to revenge. And while fucking our competitors over is the general idea, we don't want to start some kind of war. Just get our product back."

Hardison swallowed, more obviously than he would have liked. "What kinda product?" Pietro had to smile.

"Electronics, out of Japan. Some of the new Mirasols, medical grade computers, things like that. I'm glad he managed to get you to come along- we could use your expertise."

"And just how-?"

Pietro waved a hand. "You're not the only competent researcher, Mr. Hardison. I have connections,"

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[info]thatswhatido
2010-01-17 10:19 pm UTC (link)
"And we have connections, that are known for being discrete." Eliot nodded, and spared a glance at Hardison that was intended to say, shut up and let me handle this.

Turning his attention back to Pietro, Eliot had an eye out for Jack, a man he decided right off he didn't trust. He had a feeling he'd be taking Jack down a couple of notches, before it was all over.

"Not the only competent researcher, certainly. but he is one of the best. Quite possibly the best," Eliot said with a sure and certain tone.

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[info]thebearclaw
2010-01-17 11:25 pm UTC (link)
Pietro nodded, as though to concede the point. "Exactly," Meanwhile, Hardison gave Eliot a return look; well? It was a valid question, and it wasn't like he was just going to sit there.

He was amused at the way Eliot stuck up for Hardison, but also glad- if the team was strong, that meant good things for the likelihood of getting their product back. "I know- that's why I called you." Pulling a file form under the table, he slid it over to Hardison, letting him take a look over the specifics.

"The ship made landfall in LA two days ago, but we lost contact with them somewhere around Nevada." With things the way they were with airline security, it was still easier to do their shipping over land. "We need you to find the shipment, figure out who has it, and get it back."

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[info]thatswhatido
2010-01-17 11:46 pm UTC (link)
"You do realise in two days time, they could have unloaded and distributed the goods anywhere." Eliot shook his head. Pietro should have called him in way earlier than this.

He looked at Hardison, eyes scanning the file. Most of it read like jibberish to him. He was far more instinct than intellect. "What are we looking at, Hardison?" he asked, setting a hand to the seat behind Hardison.

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[info]thebearclaw
2010-01-18 12:08 am UTC (link)
Pietro shook his head. "Nevada's a day's haul- they've only been out of contact eighteen hours, tops. We had a team lined up to look into it, but they got caught up with something local. I was going to do it myself." Another shrug. That wasn't his area- better for them to handle it.

Hardison looked up from his file, looking to Pietro first, then back to Eliot. "Nothing really worth all this. Unless..." A Look from Pietro answered his question. He smirked a little. "Right, whatever. Hard-packed computer hardware is almost impossible to break down to ship smaller, so if they got the trucks, they're probably still in 'em, or something 'bout that size. We can look into it, see if I can get a GPS lock on the truck, get a start point." It wasn't their usual style, but it was almost easier (in theory) than the jobs they'd been pulling.

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[info]thatswhatido
2010-01-18 12:47 am UTC (link)
"Your guys were unable to track it?" Eliot shook his head. "Get this man a computer. He'll locate it within the hour." He had every faith that was true, after all, that was the kind of thing Hardison did.

"We do this, we do it my way. I don't want any interference from your guys." Eliot turned a hard glare on Pietro.

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[info]thebearclaw
2010-01-18 01:21 am UTC (link)
"We're not exactly known for our keen technological mind, alright?" Granted, he was a fully educated doctor- he knew how to get around an industrial system. But he didn't want to be doing all the work himself. That's why he had the money- to pay people to do his shit work.

The comment (coupled with the glare; thugs. Only a thug could be so ballsy, in Pietro's territory) just made him smile. It probably pissed Eliot off, but Pietro just didn't have it in him to worry about the guy. If it came down to it, it'd probably be a good fight. But still- "If I wanted a family perspective on this shit, it'd stay in the family. I'm bringing you in for a reason. It's all on you. You find the shit, get it back to me, and you get paid. Strictly a financial transaction, alright?"

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[info]thatswhatido
2010-01-18 02:19 am UTC (link)
"What sort of payoff are we talking?" The others deserved to know. Eliot figured bashing some Russian heads around was payment enough for him. His wife may have disappeared into thin air, but she left him a very healthy bank account, and he could live off his Jack Daniels stock for the rest of time.

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[info]thebearclaw
2010-01-18 02:39 am UTC (link)
Pietro shrugged. "The shipment represents about ten million, give or take. I could probably get you each half a mil. Depending on how much you get back," In truth, he was signed off for a million each, just to make sure they got the prototypes back. But no need to give that up all at once.

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[info]thatswhatido
2010-01-18 03:45 am UTC (link)
Eliot shook his head. "A mil, each." No way he was buying in to anything less. If it was a million each or nothing, Eliot was fairly certain Pietro would agree to the terms. If the product was really worth ten.

His tone was cool and even, to match his stance. He still held Jack in his sight. As antsy as the man was, Eliot was pretty sure he was going to have a fight on his hands, once he walked out the door. He was actually kind of looking forward to it.

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[info]thebearclaw
2010-01-18 03:51 am UTC (link)
"Fuck no, I could get the shit back for quarters, if I used my usuals. Less, if I told the fucking capes what was going on. Half, or nothing." Despite the words, his eyes held something close to a friendly challenge; to see if Eliot would really push forward.

He could sense the tension between his bodyguard and Eliot, and almost said something about it, but he didn't really see the point. If they got into it, he was pretty sure Eliot would win. And it'd serve Jack right, for being an ungracious host.

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[info]thatswhatido
2010-01-18 05:33 am UTC (link)
"Nice doing business with you." Eliot gave a rather blank look, then turned to Hardison. "Let's go, this punk is wasting our time." His words clearly riled Jack, who took a step forward as if he meant to block Eliot's way. Eliot drew the same blank look at him as he'd shown Pietro a moment before.

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[info]thebearclaw
2010-01-18 05:44 am UTC (link)
Pietro finally stood, a hand going to Jack's shoulder just as he was reaching for Eliot. "Jack. Back the fuck of of my guests, got it?" The man shot a harsh glare at Eliot, then a lesser one to Pietro, before falling back against the wall begrudgingly.

"If ten thousand bucks an hour is really wasting your fucking time, you need to take a look at the economy, man. Everybody's taking it in the ass, here." He gave Eliot one last look over- not threatening, just assessing. "Watch who you call a fucking punk. But I can get you your mil, fine. But you better not be wasting my time, then."

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[info]thatswhatido
2010-01-18 08:55 pm UTC (link)
Eliot's back stiffened. If this guy wanted a fight, he'd get a fight. The hostile tones had Eliot's skin crawling, gearing up for it.

"You'll have your shipment back within 72 hours." He shot Hardison a look, daring him to say otherwise. "Let's get the fuck out of here. We'll be in touch," he added with a pointed look at Jack. He was half hoping, and definitely expecting Jack to follow them out to the alley for a more physical confrontation.

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[info]thebearclaw
2010-01-18 09:03 pm UTC (link)
Seeing the look of a man itching for a fight- and not feeling that stupid, himself- Pietro just nodded, moving back to his seat to let Jack follow them out of the club.

Knowing the man leaving behind them was a bad omen, Hardison gave Eliot and the thug a wide berth, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. One on one, the guy didn't stand a chance; Eliot wasn't going to need his help.

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[info]thatswhatido
2010-01-18 09:12 pm UTC (link)
Eliot definitely did not need Hardison's help, and he didn't want Hardison caught in the crossfire any more than Hardison wanted to be caught there. Once they stepped out of the club and clear of the door, Eliot turned around, the message in his stance clear to anyone, whether they spoke street body language or no.

"You sure you want to do this?" he asked, giving Jack an out, though he didn't expect the thug to take it. He wasn't disappointed, and he was moving forward to counter Jack's first attempt to land a punch.

Eliot wasn't overly impressed with jack's technique. "The hell? Boss man pull you off the street five minutes ago?" Eliot quipped. Though he had a bloody lip and a bruised cheek when it was over, Eliot took Jack down easily, leaving him rolling on his side in the alley.

"We should get out of here before they come looking for him." More for Hardison's sake, than his. Eliot wouldn't have minded taking one half a dozen more, especially if they were as easy to cut down as Jack.

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[info]nanasaiddont
2010-01-18 09:31 pm UTC (link)
Hardison, being far more of a lover than a fighter, stood over to the side and waited for the sounds of impact to stop. If his knuckles were a little white on the file, well. He just really didn't like violence.

"Yeah, that was smart. C'mon," he headed for the mouth of the alley, working his way back to the street to hail a cab.

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