Alec Hardison [Leverage] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stillageek) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
makingthisupasigo2018-07-24 12:53 pm
stillageek) wrote in makingthisupasigo2018-07-24 12:53 pm
And the Inside Job - for Eliot Spencer
One of the many advantages of being the hacker is you don't have to deal with your co-workers all that much. Which can be a literal lifesaver when your co-workers are the deadliest people on the planet.
Hardison is camped out in his server room, pulling up information and data for the various jobs that are coming up for the assassins. And, as usual, looking into the online habits of his co-workers. It's his way to protect himself, digging up dirt on all these guys to keep them at bay. So far it's been working. He hasn't been in Moreau's services for very long and it hasn't been pleasant (no, sir, it has not been pleasant at all) and in the beginning nobody expects him to survive very long.
But then Hardison lives up to his reputation and starts making things happen, digs up information that is thought to be impossible to get, gets a hold of people who are impossible to find, gets into systems they used to work around before because they're impossible to hack. And people take note. If Moreau's personal e-mails can be believed (which of course Hardison totally doesn't read) the boss even wants him to work with Spencer on one of the next jobs. He hasn't met Moreau's favorite yet but what he found out about the guy so far has him nervous in advance.
There's an alert and one of his screens light up, revealing a window with an online poker webpage. There's a second window next to it with code running in the corner. The webpage informs him that beefboy has entered the lobby.
Hardison rolls over in his swiveling chair, grabbing one of the keyboards. "Now what you up to, Brett, my man? You gonna play a little? Spend some of that hard-earned cash? Come on then."
There's just something incredibly satisfying about having these murderjerks lose their blood money on his fake gambling sites. Hardison watches the game unfold for a while, upping Brett's chances here and there, giving him a couple of good runs and waits until the assassin gets greedy. Then he quickly types a line of commands, causing the AI's cards to flip around right before Brett calls. The screen blinks and then the poker site informs that beefboy's winnings have just dropped down to a big fat 0.
There's an enraged howl coming from somewhere in the mansion and Hardison grins, clapping his hands together and giggling. "Ohh yeah, I got you. I got you good! In your face. Where's your beef now, huh? Where's your beef!? At the butchers, that's where it's at!"
While his analyzing programs run some calculations for his actual work he gets up to get himself some food from the kitchen. It's gonna be a long day of pulling data and getting ready for his meeting with Spencer, so he'd probably better grab some snacks while he's still got the chance.
Stepping outside he slows when he passes by a very angry assassin in the hallway. Hardison knows he probably shouldn't be pushing his luck too much but that angry vein that looks like it's about to pop is just too tempting. "Yo, Brett, what's the matter? You having a bad day, my man? Did I hear you scream earlier?"
There's murder in Brett's eyes (but then again when is there not?) and that tower of a man steps up to him. "You looking for a beating there, geek?"
"Yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you. See, a little birdy told me that you've been using the company's credit card for some little personal shopping. ... The birdy is my computer, by the way. It's, I call it birdy, it's like a..." He trails off when Brett looks at him like he's going to snap his face in two.
"I'm gonna put your head underwater until you beg me to put a knife between your eyes."
Hardison frowns. "Uh, no you won't. Come on, b-boy, you know the drill? The moment something happens to me there's like an e-mail that goes straight to the boss. It's called automatic forwarding. You should look it up."
Brett looms and pushes past him very closely, growling. "You better watch your back, Hardison."
"Oh! Oh! No. What's that? No touching. You know the rules. No, there's no touch, you don't touch me." He holds up his hands, turning in a half-circle while Brett stomps past him and calls after him. "Can't touch this, baby! Yeah, I'm teflon! I'm the teflon man, they call me Mr. T. And the t is for teflon!"
The grin drops off his face once Brett disappears around the corner. God, he is scared to death of these guys.
It doesn't stop him from humming a little tune as he walks into the kitchen, though. Seems empty but there's something simmering on the stove. Hardison randomly sticks his hand inside to grab some of the food, tossing it in his mouth as he walks past it.
Stops.
Walks backwards until he's back at the pot and stares at it because damn. Damn, baby.
He grabs a small bowl from the cabinet, helping himself to some more.
cw violence, blood
"I looked into some surveillance footage and I think... I think that was orchestrated."
He frowns, looking a little pained. "They knew he was passing through there that day. They had been keeping tabs on him for weeks." He pulls up some of the footage. "I think they used you on purpose."
cw violence, blood
He knows he shouldn't be angry at Hardison but he can't help it, he was the only one in the room--
"Why would they want Carter? It doesn't make any sense--you made a mistake, you're wrong--"
He really has no words for what he's feeling right now. It's like someone's squeezing his heart, and his stomach's full of ice and won't stop dropping. Moreau. He trusts Moreau, he was Moreau's favorite, his most valuable asset, and despite what he told Carter about not having friends here, they might actually be considered friends--he wouldn't betray him like that. He couldn't have.
cw violence, blood
"Why Carter? Asked myself the same thing. Didn't take long to figure out. Your doc is loaded, man, and I'm talking LOADED."
One of the bigger TVs he uses as a big wall screen comes up with lots of different pieces of information. Pictures, newspaper articles, Carter on a horse looking like the most preppy boy who has ever prepped.
"Meet John Carter – or rather Dr. John Truman Carter III, and yes, you pronounce that 'the Third' – of the Carter Family. And yeah, I'm talking about the Carter family. On Forbes' list of the 20 richest families in the world but not some newfangled stock brokers, we're talking old money, real old money, like that's some true Blue Blood shit right there, baby. They might even have more money than Moureau himself. They are SO rich, you could rob them for a year and they probably wouldn't even begin to notice."
cw violence, blood
Eliot's feeling betrayed enough--no, this wasn't happening, this was a mistake--that he's feeling equally betrayed that Carter didn't tell him. Carter was a common enough last name that he never thought to put two-and-two together, and why would he? Carter gave no indication that he was...loaded.
Also what was that picture even.
"i don't..." What can he say? This is real information, he can't blame Hardison for stumbling on this because it's not fabricated, it's real...
"He never told me. What--why would Moreau want to kidnap him, man? Ransom? That ain't his style..."
cw violence, blood
Even more pictures, more information. "I don't think they're involved in any shady business, at least none that I can find but you can't be that rich and not cross paths with Moreau. Actually, I think they're rivals, sort of. I think..."
Hardison rubs his chin, not quite able to keep the emotions from his voice. He's always been a friends of numbers and figures. They don't hurt people, not like that.
"I think Carter's a... some kind of security deposit. Royal families would do that in medieval times. Send one of their kids to an enemy's castle to broker a truce, assure war wouldn't break out. It's a rich people thing."
cw violence, blood
"What?!"
He shakes his head, his eyes wide as he's clearly horrified.
"That's ridiculous--if that were the case then that means he doesn't know about it...he couldn't have, not with the reactions he was givin' me. Nobody's that good of an actor..."
cw violence, blood
Hardison's voice is quiet as he clicks through his findings.
"He's kind of the black sheep of the family. Grandpa Carter here had him lined up for successor, kept pestering him about it, but Johnny, he rather ran off to save the world. Turned down the family business to work the ER. They didn't disown him, too much of a scandal, of course, but he wasn't exactly a homeboy. Lived in his own apartments ever since his third year of med school. ... Apparently one burned down but strangely enough that was unrelated."
He exhales.
"This is bad, man."
cw violence, blood
He shakes his head, trying to sort through all of these revelations.
"Carter's terrified, I mean--going from that, to this? You and me, we choose to be on this side, but he's...he just wants to help people, be a good guy. And his family did this to him."
It's bad. It's so bad.
cw violence, blood
Hardison looks up at the pictures on the screen, swiveling left and right nervously.
"... What do we do? Think we should tell him? That might wreck him, man. And if Moreau finds out, we might not just have him breathing down our neck but the Carters, too. And a war between two big houses like that? Could get real ugly for all of us."
cw violence, blood
It pains him, admitting that he doesn't know, but he really has no idea what to do with the information other than terrible things happening on either end.
"Carter deserves to know. But you're right, it'll wreck him. He ain't gonna take that well, he had the worst time tryin' to adjust to all of this." He waves his hand in a circle. "And Moreau might find out if Carter has a breakdown or something." As much as he thought of Moreau, he was under no qualms of how dangerous he could be if they ended up on his bad side.
Moreau.
That was personal, now. Eliot huffs, a wild look coming back to his eyes.
"Moreau nearly had me killed for this."
cw violence, blood
And Hardison doesn't like that look in Eliot's eyes one bit.
"Whoa there, you're not gonna go and do anything stupid, right? This ain't just your ass on the line here now. Look, maybe... maybe you can talk to Carter. Break the news to him gently? He's your friend, right?"
Your friend whose ass is on the line here so please calm down?
"Look, I can do some digging in the meantime. I got stuff on pretty much everyone in this house, I'm sure I can find something on Moreau. Let's just... look, I know this sucks? But let's be smart about this."
cw violence, blood
"I ain't gonna do something stupid."
Something smart like setting fire to the whole place, maybe.
"...okay. Yeah, he's my friend. Okay, that'll...give me time to think of somethin'. I just...I'll take care of Carter. As soon as you find something on Moreau, let me know."
cw violence, blood
"Okay, cool. Cool, cool."
Still worried.
"I'll do some digging and you... you go do that."
cw violence, blood
"Yeah. I'll--yeah. You let me know as soon as you find something, okay? We can't make a move unless we have something on Moreau."
cw violence, blood
He's already bent over his keyboard typing away but interrupts to hold up his hand. "And no murderspree, Eliot!"
cw violence, blood
"No promises."
He'll try not to have a murderspree.