This fic is based off of Leverage, the new series on TNT which as of twenty minutes ago had its second episode. From what I've seen of the casts incredibly illegal activities, the producers are going to have to throw in the requisite FBI person who is hot on their trail but whom no one believes because how could such an organization exist? (see: Sarah Connor Chronicles, Oceans 12, Boondock Saints) So, I'm writing this fic. If it gets any interest, I may continue with it past the first chapter. Who knows.
Detective Ross Bardott had a history of beliving in conspiracy theories. It didn't make him the most believable agent, which is why he had never made it very far in his organization. He had long ago accepted the lack of pay raises, the derision of his peers and the fact that he often times ended up wrong. But in his defense, the case he had about the murders running rampant through the East Coast had seemed promising until independent state agencies had discovered they were uncorrelated and he was almost sent to the mail room, anywhere where they could put a failure. But Jenkins, the older woman who ran the operations for his office, she kept him around despite her peers distrust of him. She said that he always managed to get the right leads. And he did. If anything, he was now an ambulance chaser for the government.
He had his favorites to watch. Right now it was Nate Ford, a James Bond kind of enigma in his own right, though he only worked for insurance companies and not MI5. In the world of getting secrets, Nate Ford was a super agent, and he had a good history of going up against the best and getting back the objects he needed. He remembered in particular when he had found out about Nate getting around Parker and one of her stolen Monets. The woman was incredibly territorial, and had burned down two or three of the decoy houses Nate had set up as insurance that she wouldn't get to him first.
And this thing happened with his kid dying, and Nate Ford went off the map. Which greatly depressed Ross, because if there was one thing he enjoyed doing, it was following the continuing adventures of Mr. Ford when he should be working. After all, he had access to most of his companies records. It didn't take long to find out that he had quit and was now an alcoholic of the highest order outside of Chicago.
If Ross wasn't paying such close attention, perhaps he wouldn't have noticed the sudden change in Nate's behavior. It was creepy, but Ross was sure he know knew the man better than the man knew himself with the overeaching arm of the U.S. Government. And then, of all things, the man bought a cherry red Tesla Roadster, and Ross knew something was up.
The Roadster was the beginning. In his off hours, Ross began to look more closely at the ex-insurance company man. And he discovered the Leverage offices, too clean and new to really have been around since the early 1900's. It was squeaky clean, a company run by Nate Ford, with several rather odd staff members, but nothing that would be innappropriate if you were just doing a courtesy look through.
Pictures, however, speak 1000 words.
The FBI has one of the greatest facial recognition systems in the world, and Dt. Bardott put it to good use with a few candids he snapped of the group coming and going from the offices. He should've felt less surprised when the names came back.
Sophie Deveraux he almost expected. If there was anyone from Nate's past he would bring back, it would have to be Sophie. Her parole officer informed Ross that Sophie was straight now, struggling as an actress in Chicago, but no longer pulling con jobs. As far as he could tell. But Sophie had managed to leave her last parole officer in New York half naked and hand cuffed to his office chair before running often to Paris with her millionaire mark.
The others were a bigger surprise.
In the insurance companies files, he knew Nate had had some experience with Eliot Spencer, but not enough to pull him into some sort of company. Ross was familiar with Eliot, a kind of thug of some sort that rumor had it had been off to some monastery after being a private contractor for the military for a while. Eliot was an enigma, but he had known Nate, had been a part of a couple of jobs that had tried to run under the insurance mans nose.
And Parker, well, everyone knew Parker. He was sure that woman's prints were in the system for the fun of it, and the picture had only been a half match from some camera footage he was sure she had let them have. But what she was doing with Nate he wasn't sure. She was a wild card, prone to acts of major insanity and violence.
The other one he wasn't sure about. The man wasn't in the system, but he was tall, African American and athletic looking. Judging from the company he kept, he was probably a criminal too. What was Nate doing with all of these people? Wasn't he one of the good guys?
But he couldn't concentrate that much on the enigma that was Leverage, not until after the major scandal erupted with the congressman and the defense contractors and the several billion dollars in "missing" money found in a storage container on the pier. It was enough to give a conspiracy theorist like himself cold shivers in anticipation.
Nate could wait.
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