"Off the Pier"

Missing scene for 'Leverage' episode 3.8 The Boost Job

~ Maven Alysse

A/N: Not mine. Just borrowing for a while. Thanks to Aislynn for being the best beta in the world!


He knew, once the bullets began flying, that his only escape would be to dive into the bay but he hadn't been prepared for the dark blue sedan that slammed into him with breath-stealing force. He managed to reduce most of the impact by rolling over the hood of the car. Pain radiated from his left knee, hip, and shoulder. His temple struck the windshield and his vision darkened alarmingly as he went airborne narrowly missing the concrete curb as he plunged over the side.

The shock of cold water cleared the cobwebs, forcing away the encroaching darkness of yet another possible concussion. Eliot's eyes widened and he clamped his mouth closed, mentally cursing as the fall forced half his air out. He let himself sink further to make it harder to see his form in the water, both blessing and cursing the murky water.

He swam to the wall, using the rough stones to guide him further away from his unlikely entry point, praying the men above lost interest quickly and didn't feel like wasting bullets by firing blindly into the water. He edged sideways, rounding a corner. A few moments later his hand encountered empty space, a niche in the wall. Feeling inside, he encountered a set of rungs sunk into the concrete.

The retrieval specialist took a chance between being shot or drowning, as his body began to protest, his lungs burning and tiny sparkles appearing at the edges of his vision from lack of oxygen. Ever cautious, eyes and ears straining to hear anything through the water. He sensed nothing. Hugging the wall, unable to wait a moment longer, Eliot broke the surface silently drawing air into oxygen-starved lungs. Stifling the cough that wanted to come out, he clung to the ladder, pushing through the pain to assess the situation.

The men who'd ambushed him weren't saying much, but he could hear them moving about and had recognized them as part of Lefty's crew. It looked like the mark had realized something was up. How? He shook his head, dismissing the question as currently unimportant. The question was, what now?

The roar of an engine caught his attention, the rig he'd just abandoned was being driven off. How would that change things? He knew Parker and Hardison would be arriving in less than half on hour. They were supposed to turn over the cars to Lefty. If the cars were already gone... He nodded to himself, a setup. Probably to kill them just as they tried to kill him. Glancing briefly over the edge of the dock, he spotted two goons in the shadow of the building. A grimace crossed his face as he ducked back down. He had to warn the others.

"Hardison. Parker. They're on to you." He waited a moment, growing concerned when he received no response. "Hardison?" Nothing. He still had the ear bud; amazingly, his activities hadn't shaken it loose. "Nate? Sophie?" Static. "Shit."

A few yards away was another ladder. Swimming over, he pulled himself up, curling fingers stiff with cold, his left leg dragging, a headache lodged behind his eyes, throbbing with each beat of his heart. A freight box hid his emergence from the two goons. It gave him enough space to stretch the bruised hip and knee and time to dry off a bit and come up with a plan. When the others arrived, he wanted to be ready.