The Debt Job

BY : Kyly
Category: G through L > Leverage
Dragon prints: 472
Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage and I make no money from this story. The OC is mine, everything else belongs to people much smarter than me.

The job had gone sideways. Russians. Why did it have to be Russians?

The first hint of trouble had been a few weeks ago. Eliot had been going room to room in the office they were searching when he’d stumbled upon a body of a man. The hitter didn’t bother to check for a pulse. The bullet hole in the center of the man’s forehead was proof enough he wouldn’t find one. There was a little rectangle of paper on the man’s chest with one word written in bold black letters, “виновный”.

“Vinovnyy.” Eliot read and Nate quickly translated.

“Guilty.” The Mastermind murmured then his voice turned panicked. “Everyone out. Now. We’re aborting.”

“Nate…”Parker whined. She hadn’t even gotten to do anything fun yet.

“Now, Parker.” Nate said tersely. She grumbled over her com but assured him she was coming.

When they were all gathered back together Nate sat at the head of the table, his face was very serious. “We may have to consider backing out of this job.”

“What! Why?” Sophie asked.

“What has you so spooked?” Eliot added

“There’s a story in the Irish mob. About a man they call the Executioner. He’s a hitman for the Russians. No one has ever seen what he looks like, no one has any clue who he is. The only thing he leaves behind is a trail of dead bodies and a note with one word in Russian.”

“Guilty.” Sophie murmured. Nate nodded.

“We can’t just leave, man.” Hardison said. “There’s a family counting on us.”

“Yea but Russians.” Parker said emphatically.

“We’ll vote.” Nate said. “Who wants to finish the job?”

Hardison and Sophie’s hands went up.

“So you two don’t?” He asked Eliot and Parker.

Parker shook her head, “Russians.”

“Eliot?” Nate asked.

The hitter hesitated then said, “I think maybe we should put it on hold and re-evaluate.”

“That’s 2 and 2.” Sophie said. “Nate, you’re the tie breaker.”

Now, as Nate lay bleeding on the floor of a warehouse, he wished like hell he’d voted to call it all off. But he hadn’t. Now he had a bullet in his gut. His head was kind of fuzzy and he still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. One minute he and Sophie had been running through the darkened warehouse, the next thing he knew they’d rounded a corner and run into a group of people. A shot had been fired and now here he was. He must have blacked out for a moment because the next thing he knew there was a woman leaning over him shouting at someone in Russian.

She spoke too quickly for him to understand everything but he picked out the word “doctor” and she said something about “responsibility?” She repeated herself and he picked it up. “Get the doctor. I’ll take responsibility.” She had a shirt or something bunched up and was holding it against his stomach. His vision was getting hazy and then there was nothing.

When Nate woke up the first thing he noticed was the pain. His stomach felt like he’d been kicked by a horse. He took a few shallow breaths then managed to open his eyes. He was in a small non-descript room. The only items in it were they bed he lay on, a night stand to his left and a chair to his right. To his relief Sophie sat, unharmed, in the chair. Her eyes were closed so Nate tried to say her name to get her attention but it came out as a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Sophie.”

Her eyes snapped open and she jumped to her feet. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Like hell.”

“Then you feel how you look. Let me get the doctor.” She said then made her way to the door. She opened it but only stuck her head out. “He’s awake.”

After a moment the door opened fully and an older man shuffled in. “Welcome back.” He said in Russian.

“Did I go somewhere?” Nate answered in English and the man nodded as if he understood.

“You lost a lot of blood.” Sophie said. “We weren’t sure…” She trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought.

“I’m okay.” Nate said trying to reassure her.

She smiled and came to his side, taking one of his hands in hers.

“Where are the others?” Nate asked.

“They won’t let me tell them where we are.” Sophie said.

“And where are we?” Nate asked.

“A safe house.” The Russian man said. “You’ll stay here to heal but no one comes or goes. When you can be moved you’ll be blindfolded and taken to a public place to be dropped off.” The old man checked his vital signed and fiddled with his IV. “You want something for pain?”

Every breath hurt so Nate reluctantly nodded.

“I’ll send in Katya with something.” The old man said then moved toward the door.

A few minutes after he disappeared the door opened again and a woman entered. Nate recognized her as the woman who had helped him in the warehouse. She was perhaps thirty. Her hair was a soft black and her eyes were the darkest brown he’d ever seen. She was dressed comfortably in a t-shirt and jeans, her feet were bare. She carried a small black bag.

“Good morning.” She said in English but she had a faint Russian accent.

“Is it morning?” Nate asked, it had been Saturday morning when he and Sophie had gone to the warehouse. “How long was I out?”

“Three days.” The woman answered. “Are you allergic to anything?”

He shook his head.

She opened the black bag she carried and produced a syringe. “This is morphine.” She said then went about injecting the contents of the syringe into his IV. When she was finished she capped the needle and turned to go but Nate stopped her.

“You helped me in the warehouse.” He said.

She turned slowly to face him. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t think you deserved to die for that.”

“What happened? My memory is a bit fuzzy on the details.”

“You came tearing around the corner and one of the young ones got spooked and shot you.” The woman explained. “I did what I could for you and had them call the surgeon. He did the rest.”

“Thank you.” Nate said. “You’re Katya?”

“Yes. You can call me Kat.”

“Like a kitty cat?” Nate murmured, his eyes were drooping.

“The morphine’s kicking in.” Kat said with a smile.

Nate had enough wits about him to think she had a nice smile. Then there was nothingness again.



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