Title: Let's steal some Losers
Word Count: 5831
Summary: Eliot's called to collect something from some old friends and he remembers the time he spent in the army.
Warnings: Rated 15+ for Language and non-graphic violence.
He stared at the fabric in his hands, a distant look in his eyes as he was caught up in the feeling of the cool metal against his neck and the familiar weight resting over his heart. This wasn’t what Eliot was expecting when he answered his phone this morning.
Laid on the table before him were four red, white and blue cloths identical to the one barely being held in Eliot’s trembling hands. The only part of his body giving way to his real thoughts on this. Damn traitorous hands. The rest of his body schooled into a calm exterior for the two ladies behind him with tears in their eyes. One was pregnant, the other with a young girl by her side. Both there for the same reason as Eliot. All three there to acknowledge the loss of friends and loved ones. All three there to remember the Losers.
Eliot remembers the first time he met the losers. They weren’t complete back then but they lived up to their name. A bunch of misfits that the army didn’t know what to do with but were too valuable to get rid of.
Eliot walked onto base with an air of authority that kept most of the soldiers a couple of feet away, the ones who weren’t bothered by his presence knew him well enough to give him space, especially when he had transfer papers in his hands. He made his way to the barracks furthest from the main gate left especially for ‘the losers’ as his new team had been dubbed due to their attitude that made communicating difficult at the best of times.
Upon arriving he remembered his manners and knocked on the door. After a minute the wooden barrier was opened by a scruffy white man in a suit who appeared to be in his early thirties.
“Corporal Spencer, Sir, I’ve been transferred to your team Sir.” Eliot said after making the assumption that the man before him was Captain Clay, and therefore his new Commanding Officer. He saluted but quickly lowered his hand after receiving a strange look from Clay.
“Right, Spencer, we weren’t expecting you until later, its zero seven hundred hours man, do you even sleep? Follow me. I’m Franklin Clay, you’re new CO, but you’re intelligent. You already figured that out.” He spoke with a slight slur as though he’d just woken up, or was drunk. Maybe it was both. So Eliot followed him through the building. Clay vaguely pointed at the rooms he passed naming them as the Living area, kitchen, dining room, bathroom, Roques room and finally Cougars, and now Eliot’s room. “You’ll meet the others later, for now leave your stuff on your bunk and get out quick, without waking Cougar. I’m going back to bed, do… whatever you want for a few hours.” With that the Captain ambled into the room behind the final door that hadn’t been vaguely gestured at.
Eliot entered his new room cautiously taking his CO’s advice in not waking the sleeping man. He made a quick retreat to the kitchen after hearing a noise that he’s still trying to work out if it was a snore or a hiss. Eliot decided introductions could be made later, when everyone wasn’t so… asleep.
Around midday the rest of his new team finally made themselves known starting with the man he spotted briefly in his room. He was fairly short and had a cowboy hat on his head covering his face with shadows. He tilted his hat toward Eliot upon entering before settling on a sofa and taking apart a rifle to set about cleaning it meticulously.
Next, and he supposed last, was a large Black man who glared at Spencer as he entered the room. “I’m first Lieutenant Roque. Don’t piss me off and we’ll get on just fine.” The soldier growled. Eliot wasn’t going to lie. Roque was a scary motherfucker so silently he made note to do as he was told.
In the next couple of hours before Clay made a reappearance, the three soldiers played some cards, Cougar winning 90% of the time. Eliot was sure he only lost when he wanted to, to make sure the others didn’t get tired of losing and leave. When Clay did return he seemed much more put together, in a clean suit and without his hair sticking up in all directions. “Well, I’m glad you’ve made your introductions Corporal, because we’re not here long. We leave for a mission tomorrow zero eight hundred hours. Be ready for transport by then.” With that Clay quickly left the barracks, probably to get the mission details. Or just to get out of the cramped building. Eliot didn’t mind either way, instead he just picked up another card and stuck it to his forehead, sliding a twisted knife onto the table to join the rest of the collection of weapons.
-Two days later in Afghanistan-
Bullets were raining down around the four men huddled in a ditch trying to hit the enemy more times than they got shot. Somehow they were succeeding so far. Cougar was sniping those who thought they could hide, while Roque stabbed anyone who got too close. Eliot and Clay stuck to picking off anyone in between. They’d been at it for at least three hours and had only suffered minor injuries, which was surprising considering the circumstances.
Outmanned and outgunned the team decided there best course of action would be to run and try and make it to the extraction point, they made a pretty decent dent in their enemies, it wasn’t worth trying to thin their numbers further if they just wound up dead. So on Clays signal, Roque and Eliot ran to the next point of cover while Cougar and the Captain protected them from behind. The pair closer to safety returned the favour. This continued until they finally made it to the helicopter, no worse for wear then when they first abandoned their ditch.
Finally Eliot could relax. Usually by this point Eliot would be sick of his team. Refusing to follow well planned, efficient orders or giving orders made with so little thought that it’s a wonder how the officers giving them managed to get the position in the first place. Eliot knew what he was doing, he understood strategy - he just wasn’t cut out for leadership, too many conversations with people who think they know better than those who actually leave the States because they read a book on War. So when a private refused to follow his advice on the grounds of following their superiors plan which states they should go into the building and wait to be shot, or at least that’s what Eliot was reading from it, Eliot kicked off and followed his own plan. Usually this ended in his team having to follow him, minimizing the friendly casualties, although unfortunately his record of disciplinary action somehow managed to grow. This time though, the team worked well. This CO wasn’t an idiot, he didn’t follow his American superiors’ word when he knows more than them about the battlefield. He also didn’t keep them in the line of fire when it was obvious they wouldn’t be making much of a difference for much longer just for the sake of pride. Clay gained Eliot’s respect that day, unusually fast considering the number of people alive that had that privilege. Cougar and Roque worked well too. They followed orders, but from what Spencer could tell from his first, fairly smooth, mission with the Losers, they weren’t afraid to tell Clay if he was wrong and probably did so with good reason. For once Eliot felt comfortable with a team, and he wasn’t going to mess this up, and not just because this was his last chance before getting kicked out the army.
When Eliot stopped looking out the window, Clay caught his attention. “You did well today kid, I hope you’re going to want to stick around, because we could use someone with your attention to detail.” The Corporal was surprised, he was actually getting praised by his CO. This was a first. Although he was shocked and happy on the inside, he kept a calm exterior, replying with a small smile before looking at the other two members of his team. Cougar tipped his hat in appreciation while Roque chuckled slightly, obviously sensing that this was probably the first time getting praise from a Commanding Officer instead of discipline, before offering to play cards. The rest of the trip back home was spent playing blind man’s bluff and allowing Eliot to get to know his team better, learning their strengths and weaknesses as well as who their favourite actors and singers were. In just 3 days Eliot had managed to get closer to the losers then he had to any team he’d had before. He couldn’t wait to tell Amy, maybe this time when he went home she’d smile and congratulate him instead of trying to hide her frown with a hug over the fact he was having to transfer teams again.
There was a long time of just the four of them, before they became six. Although more than once it came near to the four becoming three. Not just when in war zones. If the weight of the reason Eliot was there wasn’t resting on his shoulders he would’ve laughed recollecting the memories of Clay’s first girlfriend that Eliot met.
It was a rare Christmas for the losers as they were actually allowed to spend it in the States. Although none of them could really face going home to their families when they were going to be shipped back out on the 26th. So the losers decided to spend their leave on base this year although on Christmas day they all phoned their family wishing them well. All except Clay who happened to have his ‘family’ on the doorstep. So technically they weren’t related and to be honest, he only met her six months prior when he was last at Fort Bragg but that was enough time for Clay to fall head over heels for the 5 ft. 8 blonde with legs up to her ears and the IQ of a Barbie. So the Christmas started off well. Eliot cooked the roast with all the trimmings while Cougar played obnoxious holiday music. Yes Cougar. The silent sniper in a cowboy hat was the one to turn the CD player as loud as it would go. Eliot did contemplate turning it off once or twice but after seeing Roque high tailing it out of the room just because of one look from the Mexican.
It wasn’t until after they had all eaten that issues started to arise. As Roque began washing up with Eliot keeping him company in the kitchen there was a knock on the door. Eliot knew there was going to be trouble. It was a very distinctive knock. Before Eliot could growl a warning Cougar had opened the door only to be shoved out the way by a yelling man made of pure muscle. “Where is she?” He screamed. Eliot was surprised and vaguely impressed that he wasn’t a puddle on the floor just from the glare of pure rage being directed at him from the angry sniper.
The man continued to barrel through the barracks until he reached the room containing Clay and his ‘girlfriend’. As soon as he entered she ran to him making it look like she wasn’t involved at all in the fairly intense make out session that had just been going on. “Amber, Amber honey are you okay?”
“I’m fine. This jerk just took me here offering coffee, I felt bad for him, he had no family on Christmas because he’s getting posted out of the States tomorrow so I thought I’d keep him some company, then he decided to start kissing me. I tried to get away, and that’s when you came here. Please take me home babe.”
“Excuse me. Amber! You were the one who started making out with me! You didn’t say you had a boyfriend.”
“Shit, Sorry man…” By this point Amber and the Rhino were making a swift exit with a confused Clay right behind them. He was still wandering gormlessly behind them when Amber took out a pistol and shot him in the leg. At this point Roques eyes were dying of laughter while his body went to retrieve his Captain to get him patched up. Cougar was already fetching the medical supplies while Eliot fetched the Whiskey.
“We told you she was trouble Clay.” Roque mocked.
“How was I supposed to know she was married?”
“Did you ask?”
“There’s your problem.”
An hour later, Clay was knocked out, probably from the booze as the gunshot ended up just grazing the CO, meaning the losers still had to leave the country the next day. Meanwhile Roque, Cougar and Eliot were playing cards and for once Eliot was winning, but that may because he started cheating like the rest of them. Now it’s just a game of who’s the best cheater.
Eliot glanced around remembering the soldiers with guns stood at either side of the warehouse. It was actually with the losers that Eliot gained his dislike of guns.
So far the new millennium wasn’t going great. The Losers were told 6 hours prior to being sent to Mexico that they needed to find a tech who could hack into some drug runners’ radio frequency to find out more about where the operation began. The higher ups thought this would be easy, there’s loads of techs lying around on bass. Unfortunately they’re usually holed up in an office and have been since they got out of basic, they’re not made for combat zones.
5 minutes before takeoff Clay managed to drag a tech from his office and equip him for his task. When they made it to their destination it all seemed too quiet for a drug ring. This meant the losers were on high alert. Nobody told the tech that silence was a bad thing. He didn’t start speaking loudly or giving away their position but he wasn’t paying attention that much was obvious to Eliot.
“Oi, Kid, focus.” Eliot snarled. The tech took no notice trying to seem brave in front of the specs ops trained soldiers. Eliot saw this as stupidity while the others were trying to work out where the enemy lied.
Half an hour after getting out of the aircraft the team made it to the compound where the drug runner was supposed to be. The losers were still alert and on edge, Eliot couldn’t shake the idea that he was being watched. At this point though Cougar split off to find an area where he could protect the others from a distance and hopefully spot any hidden drug dealers.
This left Clay, Roque, Eliot and the tech. making it to the building might have actually got the kid to become more aware of his surroundings, or it could’ve been the fear he was feeling from the identical glares Roque and Eliot were sending his way.
After doing a quick search of the perimeter and finding no one, which was still worrying Eliot, they breached the building and split off to find the equipment. Eliot was stuck with the tech while Roque and Clay each went by themselves.
Another half hour later lead to Eliot finding a small room housing a single radio broadcasting quietly what sounded like locations and names. Probably what the tech was needed for. That or a pizza order. The tech got straight to work trying to find the primary location for the operation, gun still in hand so maybe he wasn’t a complete idiot, while Eliot let Clay and Roque know where they were and that they found the radio before taking position guarding the door.
It wasn’t long before the first enemy were spotted, two guards by the looks of it.
Eliot shot the first guard in the head before they had time to register that there were intruders in front of them.
All Eliot could feel was pain radiating from his abdomen. His knees grew weak and he wobbled before trying to aim at the second guard or one of them at least as Eliot’s vision blurred and darkness tried to beat the brightness of the compound. From what Eliot’s unreliable vision showed, the guard was as confused as he should have been had the pain not been overpowering all other sense and emotion. Eliot took the shot. The guard fell. Eliot collapsed. The darkness won.
When Eliot first woke up he assumed it was from added pain as he noticed a large dark shape, decidedly Roque like hovering over him holding his insides, inside. He could vaguely hear crying and he hoped it wasn’t himself, although there wasn’t the telltale wetness of tears on his face suggesting it was someone else. He could also hear who he thought was Clay yelling at someone behind Roque. It wasn’t long before darkness claimed him again, it was unlikely his team even realised he had woken up at all.
The next time he woke up the first thing he noticed was a grating beeping noise along with distant sounds of chatter. The next was the severe lack of pain. It wasn’t hard to work out that he was in a hospital. When he opened his eyes, after the bright lights had finished assaulting them he noticed Clay, Roque and Cougar all sat around him in the uncomfortable chairs hospitals usually keep with dark, sunken features making it look like they hadn’t slept in a week. The chances are they hadn’t if they managed to get him transferred to a hospital in the states. There was no way this was a Mexican hospital. For starters all of the conversations he could hear behind closed doors were in English.
Cougar was the first to notice he was awake and quickly nudged Clay who was barely keeping his eyes open beside him. By then Roque had noticed he was awake too.
“Fucking finally Spencer, it’s depressing waiting in a hospital room for an idiot to wake up.” Roque grinned showing there was no hard feelings at all and that he was relieved that the Corporal was awake.
“Idiot?” Eliot questioned quietly his voice breaking halfway through from disuse. Roque ignored it before continuing.
“Only an idiot could get shot by a tech.”
“The tech shot me? Thought it was the guard!”
“Nah the tech said he was trying to line up a shot on the second guard and you got in front of him.”
“I didn’t move. He should’ve been able to see I already had him in my sights, why was he even trying to shoot? He should’ve been getting the information we needed. Did he get it?”
“He insisted you walked right in front of him and that you didn’t even have your gun up, said he shot the first. And yeah he got the information after he finished crying about hitting you.”
“I shot the first guard! And the second for that matter!”
“Calm down Eliot, you’ll rip your stitches.” Clay calmly stated before guiding him back into lying down. “We thought it was a bit unbelievable that he would’ve been able to shoot the guard before you but that was all we had to go on.”
“Can I speak to him?”
“If you want to, I can go get him.” At Eliot’s nod Clay left the room.
It was an hour before he returned with the tech, in that time Eliot found out how long he had been unconscious and how many drugs were being pumped through his system. The essentials basically. The tech looked vaguely panicked as he sat down in Clay’s seat as the CO perched on the end of Eliot’s bed.
“Tell the truth.” Eliot said simply with a glare, hoping to get the point across.
“Wh-what do you mean?” The tech stuttered.
“What really happened for you to shoot me?”
“Oh. That.” The tech looked dejected and took a deep breath, probably realising if he didn’t tell the truth Eliot wouldn’t leave him be. “I didn’t shoot either guard, I-I wasn’t even trying to shoot anybody. I heard the gunshot from Eliot killing the guard and turned with my gun in hand… I was scared and accidentally pulled the trigger. Look I’m really sorry.”
“Shut it. How do you accidentally shoot someone! If you’re not planning on using the gun you don’t have your finger on the trigger ever!” Roque all but yelled.
“Why did you lie?” Clay questioned.
“I don’t want to be sent to jail.”
“You’re an idiot kid.” Clay got up again and took the tech with him. Probably to yell at and discipline him. At this moment Eliot didn’t care. The drugs were dragging him into a dreamless sleep which he welcomed.
It was a couple weeks before Eliot could hold a gun again, and even longer before he trusted anyone with a gun again, even his team. Eventually though his fear of guns became a dislike of them, preferring Roques weapon of choice - the knife. Or really anything else that was available.
Eliot probably would have hated guns even more if his team hadn’t worked with him to regain his relationship with them.
“Where’s the ring?” The pregnant lady beside Eliot question as she lifted the flag and dog tags she came to collect. Gently Eliot lay a comforting hand on Jolene’s back as the young girl took the dog tags out of her mother’s hands with tears in her eyes. Seeing Pooch’s wife and Jensen’s sister and niece for the first time in years made Eliot remember the first time he met the men they were mourning. Back then Eliot couldn’t have imagined becoming so close to them, they were outsiders to the team but it didn’t take as long as he thought for them to fall into place.
Stood at the front door to the Barracks was a small black man, or small compared to Roque who was currently the closest and easiest to compare sizes with. He smiled politely, explained who he was and that he had transferred, the usual. But there was something off with him. He was too normal to be a loser. The ring around his dog tags said as much.
As he entered he called to ‘Jensen’ and suddenly it clicked. A 6ft 2 soldier in a bright yellow top with the words “Hands off, my sister kicks butt” written on it, and regulation glasses on his face walked in. This is the reason Pooch was here. This monstrosity of a soldier. He doesn’t even look like he could bench press a kitten, how the heck did he make it out of basic and through spec ops training?
The kid had the widest smile on his face as he shook Roque’s hand, he didn’t even look like he noticed the death glare he was on the receiving end of. “Hey! I’m Jensen, I just got transferred out of my old team with Pooch here. No idea how, but Pooch seems to be the only one who can stand me so our CO sent him with me to keep me in check probably. That’s what I think Pooch was saying, I was on my laptop at the time though, so I’m not definite but there is a high likelihood that that is why he’s here. Random tip, if you want me to listen try to get me off of technology first… when I have a computer in front of me I sort of zone out, you’re lucky if I remember to sleep let alone eat and listen to people and all that important stuff.”
“Jensen, calm down. What did I tell you about making a good impression, man? You can’t just start giving people your life history in the first five minutes of meeting them. Why don’t you go get your tech stuff?”
“Sure sounds good Pooch. Sorry if I was a bit overzealous I don’t really have a brain to mouth filter I just think it and it pours out my-”
“Right, going, going, Gone!” At that Jensen walked out the door, almost skipping. No grown man should be that near to skipping.
“I’m really sorry about the kid. He’s an amazing tech and probably even better in the field, you just have to get past the noise and the way, when he can relax, he acts like a 5 year old. Please give him a chance, he really is great once you get past his annoying qualities.”
Pooch could probably tell from the looks on the losers faces that they weren’t quite believing him. “Look, he has one mission to prove himself else he’s out.” Clay said just before Jensen reentered carrying what looked like all of his and Pooch’s bags although they didn’t seem to be making him struggle. If any of them contained any sort of tech, which more than likely they did, the bags should of weighed a tonne, although Jensen didn’t seem to be having any trouble so perhaps Eliot’s earlier statement about his strength was wrong but there is no way this kid could shut up long enough for a covert op to take place. He was going to get them all killed.
A month later and the team was preparing for their first mission, this time in Afghanistan, a place all of them recognise all too well. In the time since Pooch and Jensen joined the losers, Pooch fell into step effortlessly. Obviously Jensen took a bit of getting used to but somehow, Eliot could be with him for more than five minutes without feeling the overwhelming need to cut out his tongue, or just kill him in general. Although it would be nice to have some silence to think every once in a while. During the month the losers trained, a lot. They had to learn each other's strengths and weaknesses all over again. This actually helped a lot with improving Eliot’s confidence around guns again. He was also pleasantly surprised when Jensen wasn’t terrible at shooting. In fact he was the third best within the losers, behind only Cougar and Clay. This however didn’t mean he’d be good in a warzone. Only that he could shoot when there isn’t pressure or distractions, that can all change quickly when the targets are real people and Jensen didn’t look like he could hurt a fly let alone a human being, with thoughts, feelings and a family. Although in that respect Eliot wasn’t sure if Pooch could do it either. He was such a family man, always going on about his wife, Jolene, saying how they’re going to have a kid once they’ve got enough money to buy a house. Eliot just couldn’t count on him being able to shoot someone else’s son. Maybe they have been in combat before. They hadn’t said and Eliot didn’t think it was his place to ask so instead he got on the helicopter and listened to Clay’s plan.
“When we touch down, Jensen you’re going to set up your tech and do surveillance on the compound from the safe house. Keep your wits about you, the safe house may not be as safe as we think it is. Pooch, you’re going to commandeer a vehicle and get the rest of us in and out.” Eliot smiled at the plan. Pooch and Jensen weren’t going to be in the fray of the fight, if they panicked from their positions then clearly there not suited for the job, but no one’s going to get hurt if they do. But they are still doing valuable jobs as part of the team. This is why Clay was the CO. “Cougar, you’re going to find a position that offers good visuals of the compound and shoot anyone that strays too close to our position.” He tipped his hat in acceptance before Clay continued. “Roque, Spencer and I will be going in. We’re going to stick together, these guys know what they’re doing so we’re going to need someone to have our sixes at all times. Got it?” There was a round of affirmative noises before Pooch started up the helicopter and we got on our way. For someone so young, Pooch was one heck of a pilot.
As soon as Clay had stopped talking Jensen picked up his laptop and got to work on god knows what. Eliot was kind of thankful, he didn’t think he could cope being stuck in a small aircraft with a loudly speaking tech, at least this way it was just a constant stream a quiet rambling that could be easily tuned out. An hour or so before they landed, the laptop was put away and Jensen started explaining all he had found out about the op. A lot more than most techs could find and substantially more useful information than the superiors in the US were willing to share. He managed to find layouts of the buildings and variable guard patterns, it may not seem like much but now they weren’t going in blind.
When they touched down everyone went straight to their positions and got to work. Much to everyone’s surprise, Jensen was quiet other than when he was pointing out enemies for Cougar to take out that weren’t in his direct line of sight so that he could focus on protecting the teams back instead of his own. The op was running smoothly. Too smoothly.
Eliot had found the documents they needed just as ten guards entered the room they were searching. They were instantly surrounded. Before any of them could reach for weapons and aim them they were being handcuffed and dragged from the building, a couple of the guards dropped but soon enough the snipers shots stopped. Eliot found out later from Jensen that Cougar was trying to protect the three in the building and Pooch who was being quickly surrounded he couldn’t listen to Jensen’s attempts to protect him from the man sneaking up behind him. At this point Jensen decided his best course of action was to avoid getting captured himself so he hid and followed the convoy of enemy vehicles to their destination using rocks and whatever he could find as cover.
Meanwhile the losers were separated with no idea what was happening to the others. In the week that it took Jensen to get a decent route of entry that wouldn’t get him killed while still ensuring the rest of the team were alive since the US army refused to send anyone to aid him in getting his team out. Telling him instead to leave them but he refused.
During this time the losers were tortured and humiliated. None of them cracked, they had probably gone through worse. But that didn’t mean they wanted to stay, although their captors weren’t experienced, they knew how to keep their prey trapped. Eliot was incredibly impressed when Jensen stormed through the door to his cell with blood on his hands and clean clothes and water in a bag that he dropped to the floor in front of Eliot before guarding the door while he got changed and rehydrated. As they left the room Jensen handed him a knife and made his way to the next cell over, Roque’s. They repeated the process until all the losers were free. In that time Jensen had shot 12 guards, Pooch 4 and Roque and Eliot had stabbed a man each, eagerly exacting revenge on their captors. It wasn’t long before all 6 were out the building and Jensen was driving them to the extraction point.
During the journey the losers patched themselves up, they weren’t too bad off considering the amount of time they were held isolated and under the watchful gaze of the enemy. When they made it to the helicopter, Pooch was cleared to fly it by his teammates and so they quickly made their escape from Afghanistan.
When they were in the air Jensen spoke for the first time since breaking them out of the facility they were held in. “The army. They didn’t want me to get you out. Just thought you guys should know.” He quickly opened up his laptop, probably to email his sister.
Don’t get him wrong. Eliot was furious with the army, all of the losers were. But at this point they were too exhausted to care. When they had made it to safe territory Pooch landed the helicopter and the losers spent the next week recuperating. By the end of the week they were in much better shape, Eliot even cooked a celebratory dinner for them all for getting out of Afghanistan safely. When they finally made it back to the US Eliot decided, he couldn’t stay in the army any more. Too many times the US military have allowed innocent people to die or left healthy soldiers to their fate in a warzone. Eliot couldn’t work for these people any longer. So he left, the other Losers decided to stay together and not leave. It was their choice and Eliot still respected them if not the organisation they worked for.
In the eight years since Eliot left the army, he did many things he regretted but also a lot he didn’t. Throughout it all though he stayed in contact with the losers, mainly through Jensen who was able to keep their conversations off the radar.
Eliot looked back down at the flag and Roque’s dog tags that were still resting against his heart and he realised, there is no way the losers would have killed the 25 children they were accused of murdering. There was no way.
After speaking quietly to Jolene and Jensen’s sister as well as his niece he made his way out of the warehouse. Just out of habit and because he hadn’t done it in a while, Eliot checked the email that only Jensen knew, just to see if he had a last message from the losers. What he found surprised him greatly. From an anonymous address there was an email stating ‘It was a very distinctive death.’ It was dated that same day but the message screamed Jensen. He could’ve got Hardison to check it, but instead he went with his gut. The losers were alive. He quickly scrolled through his contacts until he found Nate’s phone number. As soon as the older man answered the call Eliot explained what happened. Whether it was Eliot’s urgency or just out of trust Nate reply was simple before he hung up.
“Let’s go steal some Losers.”
Thank you for reading :)