Number 06 │ A Leverage Fanfiction

The Maltese Falcon Job | Part 2

I stepped off yet another ship, shaking my head. No sign of Kadjic. But at least I had a new appreciation for whoever stocked the pantry on that boat.

Tara stood on the docks, arms crossed, watching me expectantly.

I exhaled through my nose. "Not there, but whoever lives there makes a mean beef jerky."

Fishing into my pocket, I pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, letting the first drag settle my frustration.

Tara sighed. "Let's just meet back up with Parker and Eliot."

We made our way to the rendezvous point, the salty night air thick with oil and fish.

"This is hopeless," Tara muttered the moment we rejoined the others.

Parker wrinkled her nose. "And it smells."

Tara nodded in agreement. "Yes. Like old clown shoes."

Parker shuddered. "Briny despair."

Eliot, arms crossed, scanned the area before glancing at Hardison's intel. "Well, maybe Hardison..." His voice trailed off, his eyes narrowing at something in the distance. "Hey."

I took another drag, exhaling the smoke slowly. "What?"

Eliot pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it with a look of realization. "He's Italian."

Parker blinked. "Huh?"

Eliot's fingers tightened around the note. "Bonanno's Italian."

Without another word, he turned and started walking off, his stride purposeful.

Tara threw up her hands. "So now he's walking off?"

Parker sighed. "Yep."

Tara groaned and jogged after him. "Sparky, slow down."

I huffed, flicking the ash from my cigarette before following.

<>

I sank into the couch beside Tara, stretching my arms over the backrest. We were back at HQ, the pub's upstairs now serving as our impromptu war room. Nate had called us in, and from the look on his face, things were about to get interesting.

He perched on the stairs, hands clasped together, while the rest of us huddled around the table, studying the blueprints of a cargo ship.

"...Is it possible?" Nate finally asked, wrapping up his explanation.

Hardison blew out a breath, leaning back in his chair. "I'll need Eliot or Sky to help me pick up some new supplies, and maybe five hours. Plus, I gotta hack into the cargo shipping system at the docks."

Nate nodded. "What about the money?"

Hardison scratched his head. "It's short notice, but..."

"Use my accounts," Nate cut in.

Hardison frowned. "That'll clean you out."

"Use 'em."

A beat of silence. Then Nate turned to us. "And what about you guys on your end?"

I exhaled through my nose, arms still draped lazily over the couch. "Yeah, sure. Eliot and I can handle that kinda heat, but it's gonna stretch us pretty damn tight."

Parker leaned over the table, tracing her finger along the ship's blueprint. "I don't think we can go in through the main entrance." She tilted her head, considering. "So we go up, then drop down from the roof."