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Bring on the Wonder	By : Azuriel Category: G through L > Leverage Views: 501 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I am in no way connected to the Leverage series. I own nothing in that universe. Therefore I cannot and am not making any money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
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Nate had called everyone to headquarters. He had just met with a woman who had her money stolen by an IRS scam that had been affecting many people over the previous few months. Elliot wasn't happy about it. He had an ice pack on his shoulder, nursing an injury he'd gotten a few days before. “Look, all I'm saying is I don't understand why we can't have a couple of days off in between jobs. We just spent ten days in Juarez.”

“What’s the matter, you don’t like the piñatas I bought?” Parker asked as she was digging into one to get the candy out.

“Listen, no time off, all right? We got a lot of work to do. Hardison, run it,” Nate ordered.

“All right,” Hardison pulled everything he had up on the screen. “The first rule of crime is follow the money. Now, Ms. Salazar's money ran through three different shell companies before it ended up with this guy. Hugh Whitman. He runs a big debt collection agency right outside of Boston called Financial Support Associates.”

Elliot let out a soft moan as Will started massaging his shoulder. “Well, it makes sense. I mean, he's got bill collectors already on his payroll. He just sends them after people that owe back taxes. He keeps the money.”

“But the names of those people, they're not public. So how does he know who to target?” Sophie asked.

“Well, Whitman worked for the IRS for twenty years. He probably had a friend leak him a list,” Nate explained it.

“I got it! I got it! We steal the list,” Parker seemed excited as she managed to pull out a piece of candy.

“We need a way in. What did you find out about Whitman on the Internet?” Nate asked Hardison.

“Nothing,” Hardison answered.

“What do you mean nothing?”

“He's not on the net, man, at all. Which is strange because his company deals with such high tech. You know, they do this thing where they spoof your caller ID to make it seem like your grandma's calling, when it's really one of their bill collectors.”

“Go back to the money. You said Whitman routed his money through three different shell companies, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Where is it now?”

“Somewhere in the boondocks at a bank called Turner Creek. It's under an account named Patriot Limited. Now, there's no ties to Whitman, and that's why the cops can't touch him.”

“Good. We can work with that. Okay, I want a two-pronged attack. One team is gonna go convince Whitman his money isn't safe there at the bank.”

“That's... Me, Will, and Hardison, we got the bank,” Elliot volunteered them.

“We're doing what, now?” Hardison raised an eyebrow at Elliot.

Nate gave a little nod of approval. “Okay, after you guys have spooked Whitman, Sophie, you go and hook him with a new place to stash his cash. Questions?”

The three men drove up to the bank to pose as IRS investigators. “Dude, I don't know what you're complaining about, all right? I got us the bank. We're in, we're out, and we get to go throw a worm in the water,” Elliot said as they got out of the car and put the jackets on.

Hardison was shaking his head. “All so you can go fishing in the woods. I don't see why I had to come.”

“Because it'll be good for you. When's the last time you've been outdoors?”

Hardison swatted at a bug. “Hey, man, did you see that mosquito? That thing had a beak, man. What's that smell?”

“It's fresh air.”

“I don't like it.”

“I'm cold,” Will complained.

Elliot rolled his eyes. “Don't you start now. It'll be warm inside the bank, then we'll get you some hot chocolate, okay?”

“The good kind?”

“If we can find it.”

“I don't like this place either.”

The three of them walked into the bank. “Who's in charge here?” Elliot asked as he looked around.

“Uh, how can I help you?” an older heavy set man in a suit came over to them with a confused and concerned expression.

“I'll tell you how you can help us. This is Agent Brody, Agent Crane, I'm Agent Quint, with the criminal investigation unit of the IRS.”

“We need the records of all the accounts in the name of Patriot Limited,” Hardison said.

“Of course, right away.” The manager pointed to his desk. “We don't get many folks way out here. Uh, why don't you just have a seat and I'll bring that account right up.”

Once the manager printed everything out and handed it over they went back to the van and took the IRS jackets off. “You think that was enough to spook Whitman?” Elliot asked.

Hardison shrugged. “Don't know. Comms and mobiles don't work up here, so we have to call Nate from a land line.”

“When it comes to lots of money that wasn't obtained legally, authorities poking around almost always grabs attention,” Will commented. “He probably has someone inside the bank who called him as soon as we walked in the door.”

“Then we did our job,” Elliot seemed content with that. “Hardison can use the phone at the bait shop while I tackle us up. We'll grab something to eat. Come on!”

Hardison was not happy. “Look at me. I look like somebody eats at a bait shop?”

“You fellas are gonna want to come with me,” A man in an army uniform appeared out of nowhere.

“Excuse you?” Hardison gave him a dirty look.

“Make any sudden moves and my boys will blow your heads right off.” They suddenly had quite a few laser sights trained on them.

The three of them were roughly shoved into the back of a van. While they drove down the road Elliot had his eyes closed and was mumbling to himself. “Hey, man, this van is old. I bet if we rush that door, we could pop the lock. You ready?” Hardison said to his companions.

“Shut up,” Elliot growled.

“At least I'm trying to get us out of here. What are you doing?”

“I'm drawing a map, Hardison.”

“Don't ruin his concentration,” Will spoke up quietly. “You know what Elliot used to do, at least part of it. I may not have been an active part of it, but I watched and I learned, so you're going to have to follow our lead here.”

They were dragged out of the van in a small camp in the middle of the woods. The leader held their fake jackets. “Internal Revenue Service. Taking money from hard working Americans and shipping it straight to China.”

“You smell that?” Elliot whispered to Will.

“Smell of death? Yes, I do,” Hardison responded.

“I smell it,” Will nodded as they both looked around the camp. “Almost feels like home.”

“Is that a foreign accent I hear?” the leader turned his attention away from something else when he heard Will speak. “British?”

Will shrugged. “Sure, we'll go with that.”

One of the men punched Will in the face, and Hardison noticed it was Elliot who flinched. “Turner Creek minutemen. Anti-government militia, huh?” Elliot grabbed the leader's attention.

“Anti-government freedom fighters. They say the war is coming, tax man, but it's already begun. What do you call a man who takes your property, enriches your adversaries, and deprives you of your liberty?”

“Politically savvy,” Will answered the rhetorical question and was punched again for it.

“Consider yourselves casualties of war, and this foreigner gets to go first.”

One of the men pointed his weapon at Will, but Elliot quickly knocked the weapon out of the hands of the soldier nearest him, then hit the other from behind. The three of them took off running, the sound of gunshots ringing out behind them.

They ran until it looked like they'd lost the militia for the moment. “Stop,” Elliot grabbed Hardison's arm.

Hardison looked at Elliot like he'd grown a second head. “What you mean, stop? Why we stop running? Running was good!”

“Listen to me, all right? The van was averaging forty five miles an hour, right? We were in there for twenty two minutes. We took two turns off the highway. That's seventeen miles north of town. We need to go south. That's south,” Elliot pointed in a certain direction.

“Says you and what compass?”

Elliot tapped his head. “This compass, man! Some of us were born with good direction.”

“Yeah, well, how about some sense, man? That's uphill. Running downhill is faster. That's proven science.”

“I guess I'm the tie breaker,” Will spoke up. “And Elliot's right, we stand a better chance if we run toward town.”

“This really isn't fair,” Hardison whined.

Will looked behind him when he heard dogs in the distance. “You can complain to Nate and Sophie when we get back alive.”

“Wait,” Elliot stopped again when it sounded like the dogs were getting closer. “We've gotta get them off our scent.” He ripped a few leaves from a plant and started rubbing them all over Hardison. Will followed suit and rubbed it on himself.

“What's that?” Hardison's nose crinkled at the smell.

“Just rub it on you! It's skunkweed. It'll get the dogs off our scent, Hardison! Rub it on your damn body! It'll throw the dogs off.”

Hardison looked like he was going to be sick. “I can taste the smell in my mouth. It's strong.”

“Kinda the point,” Will mumbled as he then started grabbing dirt and rubbing it on over the skunkweed for good measure. “At least it isn't hyenas this time.”

“You've been chased by hyenas?” that caught Hardison's attention.

“Yeah, interesting story. I'll tell it to you if we get out of here.”

Elliot had picked up a rock with a point and hid it behind his back. “High five. A high five for morale!” he held his hand up.

Will figured out what Elliot was up to. “You know what, this is faster.” He pulled a small knife out of his boot and slashed the palm of his hand. Then he started touching tree trunks with the bloody hand in the opposite direction they planned to go.

“Are you crazy, man?” Hardison shook his head. “You were gonna cut me?”

“Look, we know what we're doing,” Elliot snapped at Hardison. “And you have a knife on you?” he turned to Will.

Will shrugged as they started moving in the opposite direction of the blood trail. “You won't let me carry a gun, so next best option.”

Hardison followed behind shaking his head. “We wouldn't even be in this mess if you ain't wanted to go fishing! I could have taken you down to mama's fish shack and got you a catfish, two pieces, and a biscuit. But instead you got us out here with trigger happy Joes trying to fish us!”

“Damn it, Hardison!” Elliot was getting very irritated. “We didn't know this was going to happen, but here we are. Just shut up and do what we tell you because we've both done this before.”

When they reached the top of the hill there was some static in their comms and they could hear Nate calling out for them. Elliot motioned for them to stop again. “Nate? You're breaking up, man! We're in the woods. Listen, we're approximately seventeen miles from the bank.”

“Okay, where...” Nate cut out again.

“Damn it. Can you hear him?” Elliot looked to the other two men.

“No, man. It's cloud cover. Day like this, we got to bounce our signal off a radio tower,” Hardison explained.

“How do we do that?”

Hardison looked up. “Get a clear view of the sky.”

Will eyed a large tree in front of them. “Then up we go I guess.” He gave himself a running start to jump up and grab one of the lower branches and pulled himself up.

The three of them climbed as high as they could. “Nate, hey? Can you hear me?” Hardison spoke softly to see if getting up into the trees worked.

“Hardison? Are you okay?” Parker's voice came through with some static.

“Can't talk very loud. These militia guys are following us, and they're armed, and I'm pretty sure we pissed them off,” Elliot explained the situation.

“Listen, now, there are railroad tracks a mile and a half west of the camp. Can you get there?” Nate asked.

“Sure. But what if there's no train?” Hardison asked.

“Well, there will be. We're gonna steal you one.”

“Run another mile and a half in the cold while crazy idiots chase us with black market weapons,” Will sighed. “Super.”

“Would you like to just stay in this tree for a few days and hope they don't notice?” Elliot snapped at him.

“Okay, Eliot, Hardison, Will, a train on the way,” Nate got back to them after a few minutes.

“Let me see if the coast is clear,” Will said before climbing down a few limbs. He waved that it was safe and all three of them jumped back down to the ground and made their way to the tracks.

A train started running past them just as they reached the tracks. “He did it, man! He actually did it!” Elliot cried in relief. “How's your train jumping skills?”

“I ain't no hobo, but I can hold my own,” Hardison answered.

“All right. Don't move! Put your hands up!” they heard from behind them. They turned around to see a militia man pointing a gun at them.

Elliot and Will looked at each other for a moment before Elliot acted like he was going to run back into the woods. Before the militia man could pull the trigger Will grabbed the gun and punched him hard enough to knock him down. Elliot stood over him. “Let me tell you something. Tell your little Boy Scout troop their time’s up.”

He gave them a cocky smirk. “We get new recruits every day. You can't stop what we have planned. No one can.”

Elliot clenched his jaw and kicked the man in the head to knock him out. “Come on, man. Let's go,” he headed back toward the train.

“Whoa, wait,” Hardison didn't move.

Elliot glared at him. “What? Hardison, we gotta get on this train.”

“What were you smelling at the camp?”

“Look, man, we gotta get on this train right now!”

“Eliot, what were you smelling?” Hardison wasn't going to let it go.

“Fertilizer and molasses,” Will answered reluctantly. Hardison got a very confused look on his face.

“You can reduce the molasses down and use it as an oil for a fertilizer bomb, all right? I've seen it in Lebanon. It's better than kerosene,” Elliot explained quickly.

That seemed to scare Hardison. “Okay, so a fertilizer bomb and a van. That's what the little hillbilly was crying about.”

Elliot shook his head. “Look, man, we get on this train, all right? We get back there, and we call the FBI. They clear everybody out.”

“Was the bomb mixed already? Is it stable?”

“No. They gotta to use it within the next forty eight hours.”

“Okay, Eliot, we call the FBI. Maybe they make it, maybe they don't. What happens then? We're watching a building blow up on the news, children, firemen scattered everywhere? Look, man, I say we go back down there, and we stop them. I say we whup some hillbilly ass.”

Both Elliot and Will took deep breaths as the train passed them by. Elliot turned toward the unconscious militia man. “We're gonna get bloody on this one. Come on, man. I'm gonna grab his walkie-talkie. You get his shoelaces, and you get his belt.”

Will picked up the discarded weapon. “I know you don't like guns, but I'm overruling you on this one.”

Elliot glared at him. “A gunshot will lead them right to us.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Can't you give me a little credit? You do what you do, and when it's time I'll deliver the coup de gras.”

“Just be careful,” Elliot called out after him as Will headed back into the woods.

“Eliot, Hardison, can you hear me? Where are you on the train?” they heard Nate check in after about a half hour.

“Yeah, Nate, that didn't happen,” Hardison answered.

“What do you mean it didn't happen?” Nate was confused and upset.

“Don't worry about it,” Hardison was oddly calm.

“Guys, you're telling me you're gonna go toe to toe with these people without a plan?”

“We have a plan, sort of,” Elliot responded. “You feeling confident?” Elliot said to Hardison.

“Not really,” Hardison replied.

“Good, because overconfidence will kill you faster than a bullet any day. Fear's good.”

“Oh, I have fear. And doubt. And really serious regrets. I should be fine. Please tell me Will is a really good shot.”

“And extremely resourceful,” Elliot confirmed.

Over the next several minutes Elliot and Hardison took out a few of the militia members. “Freeze!” the leader yelled when he caught up to them, pointing his gun. “Don't make any sudden movement.”

They were led back to the camp and found themselves in the same position as before. “Where you gonna put the van, Chester? An office building? A preschool? A church?” Hardison asked as he glanced over at it.

“A soldier knows there are casualties in every war,” was all Chester said.

Elliot shook his head. “See, that's the difference between a real soldier and this little Halloween outfit you got going on.” Chester punched him, but it didn't seem to phase him. “You'd kill to protect your rights. A real soldier? He'd die protecting somebody else's.”

“Where's your foreign friend? Did he abandon you to save himself?” Chester changed the subject.

Elliot shrugged. “I don't know where he is,” Elliot answered truthfully. “Maybe he went to the authorities to lead them right to you.”

“Whatever he's doing, he's sure taking his sweet time,” Hardison mumbled under his breath as Chester took direct aim at Elliot.

A shot rang out from the treeline hitting a propane tank. The explosion knocked everyone to the ground. As soon as the dust settled Will entered the camp and pulled Elliot up. “You good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Elliot nodded. “Nice shot.”

“A little warning and faster action would've been nice,” Hardison commented as he got to his feet.

Elliot turned his head when he heard a loud vehicle coming their way. “Incoming. Go!” he ushered the other two back into the woods to hide.

A yellow Hummer pulled up to the camp and Whitman got out in time to see the militia men start to get up. “Chester, what the hell happened here?” Whitman asked. “What the hell's going on? Oh, never mind. Never mind. Listen, there's too much heat on the organization right now. I have to get out of town. I want you to take the men and take them to a safe house. Give me the keys to your truck.”

While Chester searched for his keys Nate found Elliot, Will, and Hardison. “Listen, next time I steal you a train, get on it.”

Will pointed to Hardison, who grinned. “Look, man, you're not gonna rain on my parade today. We kicked some hillbilly ass.”

“You got a radio?” Nate asked. Elliot handed him the one they took from the guy near the tracks. “What frequency are they on?”

“Seven seven two,” Elliot answered.

“Alright, I will be in touch with further instructions when it's safer,” Whitman took the truck keys and got ready to leave.

Nate spoke into the radio so they would all hear. “All units move in. What's that? We have a GPS location of the camp. ATF Airborne is incoming.”

Chester raised an eyebrow at Whitman. “That's the feds. The feds are coming!”

“Be advised, be advised. We have a cooperating witness on the site. Apprehend, but do not injure Hugh Whitman,” Nate continued.

All of the men surrounded Whitman, who was both shocked and afraid. “What? No. Hold it. Guys, hold it. Wait a minute. That’s not-”

Chester shook his head. “I should have known. Once a government man, always a government man.”

Whitman started to panic. “Wait, I gave you training. I gave you equipment. Look, I handle the money,” he showed them a bag he was carrying.

“Yeah, let's see the money,” Chester demanded.

“Here,” he opened the bag to find documents instead of money. “Wait a minute. Oh, no, no. Wait, this was straight from the bank.”

“This the evidence you were gonna sell to the feds for your freedom?”

“What? Chester, think! This only hangs me! We're being played. We're being set up. The money must be back at the bank.”

“You ain't lying about one thing. We need to hide out.” He pointed his gun at Whitman. “So let's go into town and get our money, Whitman. And maybe we don't shoot you. Move it.”

Once the militia men and Whitman were gone Nate and the other three stepped out of hiding. “Hey, you know, I'm starting to enjoy the outdoors,” Hardison commented as he looked around at what was left of the camp.

“Hey, are you seriously gonna let them get away with this?” Elliot asked Nate.

Nate turned toward him. “Eliot, I stole you a train. Have a little faith.”

“This should be good,” Will commented. “Since the comms didn't really work up here I guess we'll have to fill each other in.”

Nate drove back to the bank just time to see Whitman and the militia men being hauled away by the FBI. Sophie and Parker were dressed as agents. “Glad to see you three are all right,” Sophie said as she joined them in the parking lot. “Next time someone steals you a train, get on it.”

When they returned to Boston Nate met with the client to give her stolen money back to her. Hardison invited Elliot to play a virtual fishing game. “It's just not the same,” Elliot grumbled while he tried to work the controller.

“You're right. It's better,” Hardison responded.

“No, it's not.”

“Where'd your shadow go? I invited him too.”

“Parker invited him to go rock climbing, and he's not my shadow.”

Hardison snorted at that. “Better him than me. And you two do spend most of your time together.”

“As I complained about before we took this job, we spend most of our time working. He's learning from my experience.”

“He sure knew what to do with that gun. He could've done it a little faster....”

“Lining up a shot like that isn't easy. But I don't use guns. I didn't fight him on it because of the situation, but he's learning to do things my way, not his father's. That's why Sophie brought him to us, to get him away from all of that.”

“You know your relationship with him isn't a secret, right?”

Elliot shot Hardison a little glare. “I... I'd appreciate you not talking about that.”

“Oh, it's cool, man. Kinda explains why you never had anything serious with a woman.”

Elliot set the controller down. “No, it's a lot more complicated than that. I've... I don't have to explain myself to you. It is what it is.”

“All right, man,” Hardison motioned for him to calm down. “I won't say anything, let's just fish.”
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Bring on the Wonder