Chapter 1
It was cold outside and quiet. Very quiet. Most people had already gone to bed. The rooftops of the city were white. A small amount of snow lay on the ground. The moonlight gave the streets a melodramatic light. Not that conman Neal George Caffrey was looking at that. He was too busy running for his life.
Neal ran as fast as he could. This was his chance, his only chance. If he blew this there would be no way out. Neal started to run faster as he listened to his feet pounding on the ground. Quickly he took a look behind him. Thank god, there was nothing. Neal didn't stop though. He knew that they would be looking for him soon. And if they actually found him. Well let's say that, that would not be good. Not good at all.
As Neal turned another corner, he thought about the last couple of months. It had definitely not one of his luckiest months. Of course the trouble had started with Rebecca, or Rachel. Neal still didn't know which name to give her. After Peter and he had found the twin of the hope Diamond and had arrested Rachel, Peter had requested Neal's release from the anklet. Actually Peter had guaranteed Neal that the FBI would comply. Yet the FBI did not seem to agree. They had denied the request and told Peter that Neal needed to serve out his sentence. Of course that news had not been taken well. Neal had walked away without saying a word and had met up with Mozzie in the park. That's when he had made his final mistake by confronting the man with the cowboy boots. Of course that had not been a very smart move. Peter would have shouted at him for being so stupid.
'Neal, you need to tell me everything! I can't have you holding back secrets! What if he had hurt you?! Neal, this is where the FBI is for! We protect our own! Now tell me everything that has happened, as I consider not telling El about this.' Neal chuckled. Yes, that was exactly how Peter would have reacted. Even though he and Peter hadn't been on the best of turns lately, Neal knew Peter would have helped. But he hadn't told Peter and Peter hadn't found out.
Shivering Neal stopped at an intersection, quickly checking the road behind him. Luckily there was nothing there, except an odd-looking cat. Okay think Neal. First things first. Find out where you are. Neal looked around. Across the street there were a few shops. Although Neal knew a lot about today's fashion world none of the shops sounded familiar. Then his eye caught a diner, 'la Aqua'. Well that doesn't exactly narrow it down. Crossing the intersection Neal looked at the menu cart that was hanging in the window. Bingo! It was written in Italian. Okay, now what? Neal looked around again, feeling a bid lost. He had to keep moving, but he didn't want to move in the wrong direction. What if they found him again?
Suddenly a bell started ringing. Neal jumped and looked at the direction the sound was coming from. A large dome rose behind the Old Italian houses. It was the most beautiful thing Neal had seen in 3 months. Saint-Peters Church. Neal couldn't help, but laugh at the irony of that. Thank you Peter. Taking another look at the church, Neal started running again.
Neal had spent a lot of time in Europe trying to find the music box. Doing, of course, also a few jobs on the side. Rome had always been one of his favorite cities. Rome was like Paris, one of the art capitals of Europe. Logically, Neal had scouted the city several times. Never stealing anything though, at least nothing that could be proven. Still this was not the way he had wanted to see Rome again.
Neal had stopped running and changed to a brisk walking rhythm. 'Always look like you have nothing to hide' Mozzie had told him. It was something Neal had learned to do by heart. It was also why the FBI had stopped following him around all the time. Today they rather looked at his tracking data. Neal looked down at is ankle. It was red all the way around and there were several scratch marks leading down. Looking at the time on a computer in an electronics store Neal started to walk a little faster. The sun would be up soon.
'Know your enemy' was another one of Mozzie's lessons. One that did not disappoint. At that time Neal's enemy had been the FBI and Interpol. That's why Neal had learned the location of every American Embassy in Europe. And believe it or not there were a lot of them. The Margherita USA Embassy Palace was a beautiful building. Though it didn't compare to the other buildings in the street.
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Guard Paul Gardner was just walking towards the big house. He had finished his 6 hour shift, where he was unable to watch tonight's baseball game. Damn embassies. Paul had been here only 6 months and he hated it already. The only thing you could eat was pasta and even those tasted funny. Paul thought of the stores in Los Angeles. God he missed home. And then there were the hours. Even though the pay was better, Paul still didn't like to watch the streets of Rome at this hour of the day. It was just way to quiet. He always expected a ghost or clown to jump out of a dark corner, like in the horror movies. Shaking his head Paul took one last look at the garden and turned around to face the door. That's when he heard someone running behind him. If this is a clown I will never mock horror movies again. Paul turned around again and saw a young man running towards the gate. In his seven years as a guard he had never seen someone so desperate before. The man looked like he had gone through hell and back, which was probably true. His shirt and trousers were dirty and they had several bloodstains on them. As the man ran towards Jim, Paul noticed he wasn't wearing any shoes. Quickly he started walking back to the front gate. God what happened to you?
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Neal had been walking for two hours, when desperation had set in. It had been so much harder to find the embassy then he had imagined. Neal had just decided to turn around again, because he had the feeling he was walking around in circles, when he noticed the American flag on top of a tall building. As soon as he saw the tall building, he wanted to run to it. Hope settling in is empty stomach. At first Neal managed to stay calm, walking towards the grotesque building. But without really noticing it, he had started running again. His feet aching every time he took a step.
The guard who had been walking towards the house, had turned around when he heard Neal approach. Neal could see the shock in his eyes as he looked him over. I didn't know I looked that bad. The other guard, on the other hand, had taken out his gun. 'Stop it right there!', he shouted through the bars. Neal didn't care about the gun, though. Almost there, almost there. The guard was about ready to take the shot, when the other guard stepped in. 'Jim, stop it', he said, while laying an hand on the guards hand. Meanwhile he was still looking at Neal, when he started talking. 'Are you okay? I'm Paul and this here is Jim. Are you American? Can you understand me?' As soon as Neal heard the word American he started explaining. Yet he spoke so fast, that Paul could only look confused. Common Caffrey, slow down and think. 'My name is Neal Caffrey. I'm a convicted art forger and I'm probably a wanted fugitive. Please, let me in. Arrest me. If they find me now, they will kill me. Please, just let me in. Arrest me and call Peter. I mean Special Agent Burke of the FBI. Just call him. Call the FBI. Call Peter!'
At that Neal collapsed on the hard stone floor. As the guards called for help from inside the house, nobody noticed the black sedan from across the street. The man looked at the commotion across the street. Slowly he put out his cigarette and smiled. See you soon Caffrey.
