Number 06 │ A Leverage Fanfiction

The two live crew Job | Part 1

The rich scent of aged wood and whiskey hung in the air, mingling with the soft hum of jazz playing in the background. Mr. Mercer sat across from Nate and Sophie, his weathered hands clasped together as if holding onto a fragile hope. Beside him, Ms. Mercer placed a photograph on the table with deliberate care.

"We began the reclamation project forty years ago," Mr. Mercer said, his voice steady but carrying a weight that echoed through the room. "My sister and I recover art looted from Nazi-occupied countries during the Shoah."

Sophie leaned in, her eyes flicking to the photograph. It was an old painting, a masterpiece that seemed to glow even through the faded print.

"There's one piece in particular we've been trying to recover for a long time." Ms. Mercer's voice had a sharper edge, one born of frustration and determination.

"It's a Gustav Klimt," Mr. Mercer added, his tone softening with reverence.

Sophie's eyes lit up, her lips curving into a small smile. "I love the Symbolists."

Mr. Mercer nodded, his gaze dropping to the table. "It belonged to my father. He smuggled it out just before... before the end." His pause was heavy, as if the words he didn't say hung in the air between them. "The painting made it out of Europe. He didn't."

Sophie exchanged a glance with Nate, her expression a mix of sympathy and curiosity.

"I've spent my entire life searching for that painting," Mr. Mercer admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

"And now," Ms. Mercer interjected, "we know it's here—in Boston."

Sophie tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her amber eyes. "Oh? If it's on display, you could make a claim with the museum. As long as you have provenance, it shouldn't be an issue."

Mr. Mercer's lips tightened into a thin line. "It's on display..."

"...but not in a museum," Nate finished, his voice low and knowing.

With a deliberate motion, Mr. Mercer opened a glossy magazine and slid it across the table. Sophie leaned forward, catching sight of the photograph: a man in a tailored suit standing proudly in a lavish office. Behind him, the Klimt painting hung in all its stolen glory.

"Mr. North," Mr. Mercer said, his tone laced with quiet disdain. "He bought the painting on the black market, fully aware of its history."

"And he has it hanging up in his office," Sophie muttered, a note of disgust creeping into her voice.

Ms. Mercer's jaw tightened. "We've tried every legal avenue, but he bribed a judge to dismiss the case."

Nate leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "North owns the largest software company in the state. He's got unlimited money and twice as many lawyers. The system's in his pocket."

Mr. Mercer's gaze hardened as he leaned forward, his voice steady. "Can you help us?"

Nate glanced at Sophie. The unspoken question passed between them like a spark.

Sophie smiled faintly, her eyes glinting with resolve. "It's what we do."

<>

Montgraft & Associates Office Building

Parker, Eliot, Hardison and I walked through the pristine office in crisp police uniforms, the sound of our boots echoing with purpose.

The receptionist, a young woman with neatly styled hair and a headset perched on her ear, glanced up from her desk. "Montgraft & Associates. One moment." Her eyes narrowed slightly as we approached. "Can I help you?"