Number 06 │ A Leverage Fanfiction

The Beantown Bailout Job │Part 4

"Those were the state cops who questioned me," Leary muttered, a hint of frustration in his voice. 

Sophie asked, her voice sharp and questioning. "Well, have they got any evidence?"

Leary shook his head, his gaze darkening. "No, no. Nothing real. Just O'Hare's word against mine."

Sophie leaned in, "And no documents?"

Leary hesitated, before reluctantly admitting, "No. No, no. I—I have those. But Kerrigan saw them."

Nate, standing a little off to the side, spoke up, "And there's just one problem," he said, a grim smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "We're screwed if he wakes up."

Leary turned toward the door, unbothered by the concern in Nate's voice. "He won't," Leary said, his hand sliding across the desk to pick up a gun. "Kerrigan's the last loose end. I'll take care of him myself."

Nate shot a look at Eliot, who was still laying on the floor, "Hey, hey, whoa, whoa, wait. What about him?" Nate motioned toward Eliot, "You just going to leave him here?"

Leary didn't spare Eliot a second glance. "Him?" Leary scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. "Hey, I never touched him. Your fingerprints are all over him. I'll clean up my mess, you clean up yours."

With that, Leary slammed the briefcase shut and walked out, the echo of his footsteps quickly fading into the distance.

Nate's eyes lingered on the door as he sighed, "So, how did you do it?" Nate asked, a curious glint in his eye.

Eliot, with a grin spreading across his face, slowly got to his feet. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic remote. "Detonator," he said, before pulling out a crumpled ketchup wrapper from his shirt. "Ketchup"

Nate couldn't help but grin. "Ah, the classics," he said with a chuckle. I smirked, reaching out and high-fived Eliot, the sound echoing through the empty warehouse.

Sophie squealed, "Oh, I love a good death scene!"

<>

Hospital

Leary stepped off the elevator, the briefcase clenched in his hand, his movements tense and deliberate. A gun was held firmly in his hands. 

His destination was clear: Kerrigan's room.

As he rounded the corner and neared the door, he shoved aside the curtain, his breath catching when he saw Lieutenant Patrick Bonanno sitting on the bed, an officer standing at attention behind him. Leary froze for a split second, quickly hiding the gun in his hand behind him.

Bonanno glanced up at him, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Mr. Leary. You remember me, don't you? Lieutenant Patrick Bonanno, Organized Crime Division."

Leary's throat tightened, but he forced a smile. "Yeah. Of course I do."

A beat of silence passed before Bonanno spoke again, his voice cool and calculated. "What's in the briefcase?"

Leary's heart skipped. Oh, God. He attempted to play it off, "In...? Oh, I can explain that."

Bonanno didn't wait for any further explanation. With a swift hand, he took the briefcase and opened it. The sight of the money inside made him whistle under his breath. "You know, I think I can explain this, too."

Leary's stomach churned as Bonanno continued. "O'Hare's been talking."

"O'Hare?" Leary repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. Bonanno nodded, a thin smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah. I just found him duct-taped to the wheel of my car with a taped confession in his front pocket. He's being very cooperative."