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and the hits keep coming

This was ridiculously fun to write. Not gonna lie.

Title:
The Incursion Bait
Ficverse: Leverage & The Princess Bride
Series: The Princess Bride Job, 14/18
Rating: Gen / PG-13
Length: 1600 ish / 29,500 ish
Characters: Team Leverage, Inigo, Fezzik, Westley, Humperdinck, Rugen, Yellin
Summary: Fencing. Fighting. Torture. Revenge. Giants. Monsters. Chases. Escapes. True love. Miracles. And hitter, hacker, grifter, thief, mastermind.
Notes: The gang have fun storming the castle.
Disclaimers: Yeah. None of it's mine, apart from the idea to mix'n'match, and in abstract that's not mine either. I am now directly lifting some lines from the PB screenplay, as if anybody can't tell.
Spoilers: Most of The Princess Bride, eventually.
Concrit: go for it

Previously, on "The Princess Bride Job":
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen


Chapter Fourteen
Night had fallen swiftly, and the five figures on the wall crouched in the dark, peering down at the front gate and the men guarding it.

“There’s more than thirty,” said Fezzik doubtfully, to Inigo.

Inigo shrugged, nodding at the others. “What’s the difference? We’ve got them.”

Parker noticed Westley pulling out the pill.

“Has it been fifteen minutes?” she asked.

He grimaced fatalistically. “We can’t wait. The wedding starts in ten.” He swallowed with difficulty, making a face. After a moment he frowned, working his ankle back and forth. Then his face cleared with pleasure as he set aside his crutches, and put his full weight on the leg.

“That’s wonderful,” said Fezzik encouragingly.

“I’ve always been a quick healer,” he said, jogging in place a little, showing with a twist of his mouth when it became uncomfortable. “Not bad.”

“Sixty,” said Eliot, half to himself, giving the count on the gate. “Hardison, where’re we at?”

“~Humperdinck’s already in the chapel, and Sophie’s on her way. They’re about to start.~”

“Okay. Inside, Westley, you and Fezzik get Buttercup to the chapel, no matter what. Parker, I need you to secure us a backdoor. Inigo, I’m not going to stop you going after Rugen, but you’re on your own.”

Inigo nodded, unconcerned.

“Good. Everyone follow my lead. And do not draw weapons unless I say.”

Fezzik and Inigo stuck their hands into the center of the circle enthusiastically, quickly joined by Parker, then Westley and finally, with a huff, Eliot. They shook and broke, and Fezzik smiled around at them warmly. “I hope we win.”

                                                                            

At the chapel, the doors opened dramatically, revealing Sophie to the staring and whispering throng in the pews. Chin raised, her regal look traveled the entire room, which slowly fell into an awed hush even before the organ music began her walk down the aisle. Arriving between Rugen and the mumblingly confused monarchs to stand beside Humperdinck, she found Nate’s eye for just a second. Her little secret smile as they knelt solemnly was entirely due to his dazzled expression.

When the organ music concluded, everyone in the entire hall stood, and Nate stepped forward. He composed his very imposing robes and regalia with great dignity, put his hands together, and surveyed the hall.

“Marriage,” he said heavily, drawing the word out somberly, throwing in a substantial speech impediment for good measure. “Marriage ... is what brings us ... together ... today.”

Sophie kept her head lowered, eyes on his shoes, actually needing to bite her lip in an effort not to grin.

“Marriage.... That blessed arrangement....”

From somewhere outside the walls came a commotion of indistinct shouts, and the corner of Nate’s mouth quirked up as he continued ponderously on. “That dream, within a dream....”

                                                                           

Eliot marched up to the crowd of men, radiating command, flanked by the rest of the group. His stride didn’t slow as he reached the front line, nor did he show any aggression; just the inexorable expectation that, whatever happened, he would continue walking forward. After a second’s confusion, the armed men gave way before him.

“You Yellin?” he demanded of the man who the squad’s movement had opened way to. “You’re in charge here?”

“What – yes, I’m – what’s the meaning of –”

“My team and I have reason to believe that a terrorist group under the leadership of one Dread Pirate Roberts have planned an attack against Florin Castle for tonight.”

Yellin stared, eyes flickering from Eliot to the giant over his shoulder, to Inigo, Westley, and Parker, each one exuding intimidation, and varying levels of discipline, in their stance.

“My spy network has heard no such news,” he said tremulously, then paled further at Eliot’s expression.

“Then you need a new network,” he said scathingly. He flipped his wallet open and shut, just enough to give a glimpse of a badge. “International Anti-Terror Task Force. What is this, some kind of brute squad? I need your men. And my people need access to this castle, right now.”

“But –”

“You’re Humperdinck’s security man, yes? You want to face him after you let him be blown to pieces on his wedding night?”

Yellin shook his head desperately. “But I need some men here to guard the gate!”

Eliot snorted. “Believe me, this gate is the last place that’ll be attacked tonight.” He looked over the motley squad consideringly. “Alright. You can keep twelve.”

He turned and gestured crisply at the men, who had gathered around to watch the exchange. “You men, with me. The terrorists are hiding in the heart of the Thieves’ Forest, which you all very helpfully cleared out for them. We go in, spread out, contain the area, and search it, section by section. They’re armed and may even be ready to make suicide strikes, so if you see anyone, attack first!” He gave them a moment, then snapped, “What are you waiting for? A man coming at you on fire? Move it!”


As he followed them out, almost running, he turned back to Yellin, frozen on the spot. “Open that gate!”

Yellin fumbled for the key, unlocked the gate to let the other four through, then locked it again. He nodded with nervous authority at the remaining guards. “Stand your ground, men. Um. Just ... stand your ground.”

                                                                           

Inside the castle, Parker immediately disappeared down a corridor. The remaining three made their way further in, slowing when they came to an intersection of several doors and passages. They looked at them, then at one another.

“Hardison? Can you direct me?” asked Westley.

“~Where are you? I don’t have you on camera.~”

Westley described their position while Inigo fidgeted and Fezzik surveyed their options thoughtfully.

“~Okay, yeah, a door on your left should open to a stairwell. That should put you in the wing her bedroom is in.~”

They started trying the doors on their left, Fezzik giving a few of them some extra help with opening, until they found the stairs. Westley took a step, but was arrested by Inigo plucking at his arm.

He didn’t need to explain why. Westley nodded at him. “And Rugen?” he asked Hardison.

“~In the chapel. We could do with a distraction, draw him out of there.~”

“~Got it,~” said Eliot. “~I’m on my way back in.~”

“~Er, what about the rest of the brute squad?~” asked Hardison.

“~Ditched them already. They’ll be wandering around that forest half the night before anyone figures it out, fighting each other if we’re lucky. Ain’t hired for their brains.~”

“Couldn’t Inigo draw Rugen out himself?” Westley asked.

“~You trust that hothead not to just charge in and slaughter Rugen in the chapel? Tell him to wait for me. I’ll be five minutes.~”

                                                                           

As Eliot walked up to the gate the second time, Yellin’s jumpiness had increased markedly.

“Alright, the raid is underway, but I need –” Eliot began, but Yellin interrupted him.

“The men told me that your giant was on the brute squad – and that one of your swordsmen was a drunk Spaniard, who gave us significant trouble when we were clearing the forest,” he said accusingly. “What is going on here? Who are you really?”

Eliot barely blinked. “Of course he was giving you trouble, he was stationed there on my orders! We’ve been working this case undercover for weeks!”

Yellin, almost vibrating with overwrought suspicion, was far from convinced. “I could lose my job – a lot more than that – I already let those people.... Let me see your badge again!”

Eliot pushed his hair back exasperatedly. “You know what? Don’t have time for this.”

Yellin sneered, and said, “Well –”

Which was when his mouth was interrupted by Eliot’s fist.

                                                                           

The shouts and cries of pain were muffled but unmistakable to all in the chapel, making Nate falter in his delivery.

“Er ... then love, uh, true love, will follow you ... forever ...” he said, flinching at a particularly sharp scream, and frowning questioningly at Humperdinck.

Humperdinck turned and gave a curt nod to Rugen, who immediately exited the chapel, four guards falling in behind him at a click of his fingers. Of everyone present, only Sophie caught the twinkle of pleasure that a successful prod always brought to Nate’s eye.

                                                                           

Hardison gave the update helpfully. “~Eliot, Rugen’s out of the chapel.~”

Eliot grunted in acknowledgement, ducked a wildly swung axe, grabbed the arm which held it and tugged, using the man’s momentum to smash him into another. It helped that neither man wore a helmet, increasing the effectiveness of their heads colliding.

He snatched the axe as it fell and cracked the butt of it into the face of another man, who did have a helmet on. He didn’t wait to watch him go down but turned, stamping on the leg of the last man still standing, breaking it cleanly, then punched him to finish him off.

Yellin was crawling for the portcullis mechanism, but couldn’t release it before Eliot straightened, flipped the axe in his hands and stepped inside the range, severing the rope himself. He dragged Yellin in next to him as it crashed down, safely sealing them both in the recess in front of the gate.

Eliot pulled him up. “Give me the gate key.”

Yellin made a valiant attempt at temporizing. “Er ... I dropped it –”

“I will tear your arms off,” Eliot snarled, thoroughly out of patience.

“Oh, you mean this gate key,” Yellin said hurriedly, holding it up, and being punched out for his trouble.

“Freaking castles,” said Eliot under his breath, flicking his hair out of his face as he unlocked the gate. He took Yellin’s sword off him, then left him there, locking the gate behind himself. “Nate, I’m in.”


Chapter Fifteen

Comments

( 4 speakses — have a speak )
deepbluemermaid
Apr. 25th, 2010 10:13 am (UTC)
OMFG! Nate as the bishop is just brilliant. And I love Eliot being the Interpol-esque guy! So many fantastic lines:

“What are you waiting for? A man coming at you on fire? Move it!”

His stride didn’t slow as he reached the front line, nor did he show any aggression; just the inexorable expectation that, whatever happened, he would continue walking forward.

This is ridiculously fun to read, too :)
themonkeytwin
Apr. 25th, 2010 05:06 pm (UTC)
I can't remember when it dawned on me that the "Impressive Clergyman" was exactly the kind of over-the-top persona Nate loves to play, but from the time it did, I was impatient to write it!

And how much did I love Eliot storming a castle twice, successfully, the second time all on his onesies? A lot a lot! :)
erisinia
Jan. 16th, 2011 10:51 pm (UTC)
Okay, I've loved all of this, but I am a lazy bitch and thus have not commented. But Nate as the Very Impressive Clergyman? DUDE. Dude! So awesome!

I'm an unashamed Nate fangirl and lot of it is to do with the flamboyancy of his criminal escapades. He spends a lot of time protesting that he's not a thief, but then he bulls into those roles and cons with a little-boy enthusiasm that combines with his outsider prospective (he doesn't know you can't pull The Wire in an hour) to make him so dang effective. That's a hard tone to capture without the benefit of an actor, and you did a good job of it in his story. Brava.
themonkeytwin
Jan. 17th, 2011 02:46 am (UTC)
Well, thanks for commenting a bit, anyways :)

Man, when the image of Nate as the clergyman hit me, I was like OMG NAO!!!! I couldn't wait to write it. That guy is FUN. So I totally get fangirling Nate, and I think you nailed why he's such a driving force, and the thing that really keeps the team together and moving forward. I think the reason I focus on the others more in my fics is that the show spends proportionately more time on his journey, so there's less room to explore and fiddle with. I've always been drawn the the guys more in the wings. But I'm glad I was able to catch the tone! That's encouraging, coming from a Nate fan.

(Shameless pimping: I did a series of five fics playing with how Parker dying would affect the team, each fic focussing on, and linking between, two characters. Majorly angsty, but if you're interested, the two with Nate in them are here and here.)
( 4 speakses — have a speak )

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