Since you guys have been so good at making me smile, I'm posting my next chapter today. With that said, I'm not sure when I'll be posting my next chapter being as I haven't finished it, or barely even started it.
The meet was at a warehouse by the docks. The warehouse belonged to Mendez, but he was smart enough to not leave anything of questionable origin lying around. NYPD had searched it two months ago, but all they found was the legal part of Mendez's shipping operation - an innocuous looking coffin shipping company. The empty space inside of the coffins makes for an convenient place to hide guns and other contraband.
The inside of the warehouse was filled with crates of various sizes that held coffins that were packed up and ready to ship. Mendez was in the middle of the large room in front of a black van and SUV, wearing an expensive light grey suit that Neal envied. Two muscular bodyguards flanked the already large man, their shoulder holsters prominently displayed.
Neal and Agent Burke approached the men and the bodyguards patted both men down. They wouldn't find either wire unless they looked too closely at Neal's watch or took apart Agent Burkes phone. After that was done, the two men returned to their positions behind Mendez.
It was always best to go along with what the guys with guns and thugs wanted to do- if you wanted to keep your insides on the inside, that is.
Neal wouldn't usually have dealings with people that brought guns and thugs to meetings with their new clients, but it's not like he had a choice in the matter.
"Mr. Halden, Mr. Reed. It's a pleasure to meet you both," Mendez said, extending his hand.
"The pleasure is all ours," Neal said, taking the man's hand in a short but firm handshake. Mr. Reed, AKA Agent Burke shook Mendez's hand as well.
They talked for a few minutes, dancing around the real reason why they were there. Everything was going well until a man came into the room and whispered something in Mendez's ear. Mendez listened to the man with an unreadable look on his face.
Mendez waited until the man left to talk. "Neal Caffrey. Ever here that name?" he asked casually.
Well, that wasn't a good sign. Neal could see Agent Burke stiffen next to him. So far Burke had played his role well, so Neal hoped he could keep it up so they could make it out of this mess alive. "Never heard of him. Should I?" Neal said, his face blank and voice casual.
"Yes, you should. He was a conman, but now he's a snitch for the Feds," Mendez said, anger showing on his face for the first time. He said the word snitch with such contempt. Neal knew Mendez hated snitches and the things he did to the unfortunate ones that he found out about were gruesome and definitely not something Neal wanted done to him. Just the thought of the that happening to him made Neal's heart-rate increase.
Agent Burke didn't have his gun with him, but he knew the other agents in the van were listening in, so he had hope that they would come in and take down the bad guys before everything got out of hand.
"He sounds like an interesting person," Neal said.
"I'm sure you are," he said, dropping the pretense that Neal Caffrey and Nick Halden were two different people.
Neal continued to smile all though he was really wishing the Feds would come in guns ablazin' sooner rather than later. Strange how that was very different not too long ago.
"I may hate Feds and their knack for interfering with my plans." He looked straight at Neal, his eyes cold and filled with hate. "But there's one thing I hate more than Feds, and that's snitches."
Mendez's intense, hateful stare and malicious words caused a shiver to shoot down Neal's spine.
Mendez pulled a gun out of the waistband of his pants and pointed it at Neal and Agent Burke. Both men slowly raised their hands in surrender.
"Get in the van, both of you," Mendez ordered, waving his gun in the direction of the vehicle that practically screamed kidnapper transport.
"You know, we should really talk about th-" Neal started, but the sound of a gunshot silenced him. It took a few seconds for him to realize that the bullet hit him. Then the pain hit. It was a agonizing impact to his shoulder, jarring him to his bones.
Neal looked down to see that under his jacket the upper-left part of his white dress shirt was quickly becoming a dark crimson. He put a hand over the wound to try to keep his insides on the inside, but the blood just kept coming.
Neal met Agent Burke's eyes and he saw fear and concern in them. It looked like he wanted to rush over and help, but didn't want to anger Mendez any farther. Not a bad idea; Neal wished he would have thought of that.
Neal's legs became too weak to be able to hold himself up and he fell backwards, landing hard on the cold cement floor.
"Grab him and put him in the car," Mendez said, but his voice sounded like he was underwater.
Neal could hear footsteps past his gasping breath and soon the two thugs were in his line of sight. They each took one of his arms and hauled him to his feet. The movement aggravated the bullet wound in his shoulder and a cry escaped his throat when the pain went up to unbearable levels.
His vision swam and black dots invaded the corners of his eyes. He could barely tell where they were taking him, but he assumed it was the van. He heard the sliding door open and he was unceremoniously thrown in. Pain shot through him and he just laid there for a minute, waiting for the pain to die down a little.
"Take their phones," he heard Mendez say, then he felt hands on him until they found his phone in his jacket pocket, then apparently feeling like he didn't need it anymore, took the jacket from him. The van suddenly felt a lot colder.
He heard someone else enter the van and assumed it was Agent Burke. Then he heard the door shut.
"Caffrey," Agent Burke said, far too loudly. He rolled Neal onto his back, causing Neal to gasp in pain.
The inside of the van was only dimly lit by a light on the roof, being as the windows were blacked out. A thick metal wall blocked the view to the front of the van, so they couldn't see their kidnappers, but Neal was ok with that - it meant they could talk more freely. As the van turned on and started moving, Neal wondered when the calvary was coming to save them.
Agent Burke got up and tried to pull open the sliding door. When it didn't open, he tried the double doors at the back on the van. He cursed quietly and came back to Neal.
"Caffrey," Burke said again. Apparently he wanted an answer.
"I'm here," he said, his voice weaker than he thought it would be.
"Okay, good," Burke said, sounding relieved. "Just hold still, okay?"
Neal nodded and held as still as he could while Burke unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it back and off his shoulder to take a look at the wound. "How's it look?" Neal asked after a minute.
Burke inspected the wound with a look of concentration. "Well, if it hit a major blood vessel, you'd probably be dead right now," he said, not unkindly.
"Well, that's reassuring," Neal said wryly.
The van hit a bump on the road and shook the vehicle, causing Neal to groan in pain and Peter to wince in sympathy.
Burke reached under Neal's shoulder with one of his hands, probably to feel if there was an exit wound. He didn't look happy about what he felt.
"Damn, it wasn't a through-and-through," Burke said, not happy about the new turn of events. Neal hoped Burke wouldn't want to take the bullet out himself - that would undoubtedly hurt.
Burke sat back and pulled off his jacket. Neal knew what was coming next and he tried to brace himself for the pain. It didn't help much.
Burke bunched up the fabric and applied far too much pressure on the wound in Neal's opinion. Neal just barely resisted grabbing Burke's wrists and pushing him away, but he didn't even bother holding in the cry of pain. He pushed against the floor of the van with his feet in a feeble attempt to gain some purchase against the pain, but all that did was jostle himself, so he forced himself to stop.
"Didn't I tell you to hold still?" Agent Burke said, his tone authoritative, but also slightly teasing.
Neal knew he was trying to distract him from the pain and the blood pooling on the floor, so he played along. He gave Burke a strained smile. "You should know, Agent Burke, I'm not much of a rule follower," he said breathlessly.
"Yeah, I'm starting to notice," he said wryly.
Neal took a breath. He could feel that he was drifting, but he tried to stay awake. "How bad is it, Agent Burke?"
"Call me Peter," he said, trying to distract Neal from his question.
"Sounds good, Peter," Neal said. "I insist you call me Neal, then."
"Okay, Neal it is."
"You still didn't answer my question, Peter." Neal liked the way Peter sounded more than Agent Burke. It sounded a lot less formal and just... right.
Peter sighed as he looked down at the wound. "Well, the bleeding is slowing down, so that's good," he said.
Neal nodded, then let his eyes wander idly around the ceiling for a moment. "What's the plan then, Peter?" He asked after a minute.
Peter sighed as he looked around. "Well, I'm hoping Ruiz can follow us since you still have your watch."
Neal's watch had GPS tracking but Peter's phone didn't, not that it would be any use to them now. The FBI didn't need to make sure they knew where the agent was at all times being as he wasn't a convict.
"You still didn't tell me what the plan is," Neal said.
Peter looked at him with a slight scowl. "I don't hear you coming up with a plan."
"My plan is to not bleed out," Neal said as matter-a-factly as he could while nearly whispering.
Peter nodded slowly in agreement. "I guess that's a good plan, but we still need to figure out what to do if Ruiz can't track us."
Neal nodded, or at least he thought he did. Everything was dark for some reason.
"Hey, open your eyes," Peter ordered. Neal opened his eyes and looked at Peter. When had he closed them?
"You can't sleep now, Caffrey," Peter said.
Neal moaned and turned his head away so Peter couldn't see him close his eyes. He was so tired and he just wanted to sleep.
"I know what you're doing, Neal, but I can still see you," Peter said.
The van suddenly turned sharply, the momentum causing Peter to loose his balance and hit the side of the van. Neal was lying down so he didn't move as far, but he still hit his head. Adrenaline shot through Neal's veins and he suddenly felt a lot more awake.
The van sped up and Neal hoped the Feds were chasing them.
Peter pushed himself away from the wall, leaving bloody handprints on the surface. Neal had to look away before he got sick.
"You okay?" Peter asked.
Neal nodded, though it wasn't really true. "You think Ruiz is chasing us?" he asked.
"I hope so," Peter said. He moved to the doors in the back and tried to look out them, but Neal knew he wouldn't be able to see anything.
Neal had taken over holding the jacket against himself, but not nearly as hard, and not only because he didn't want to hurt himself, but because he just didn't have the strength to apply any more pressure.
The van turned sharply again, but Peter was holding onto the handle on the door so he wasn't thrown around. Neal threw up his hand in time so it was the only thing that hit the wall.
Peter gave up on trying to see out the window and came back to Neal's side. He moved Neal's nearly limp hand away from the makeshift bandage and put his own hands in place of it and pushed down. Neal's mouth opened in a silent scream, his face scrunching up in a grimace.
Everything grayed out for a minute, the only thing Neal could hear was Peter saying his name over and over, but Neal came all the way back to conciseness when he felt the van stop quickly, jostling the two men in the back of the van again.
Neal could hear shouts outside of the van, but he couldn't tell what they were saying. Peter positioned himself protectively in front of Neal. Neal didn't know what Peter would be able to do to stop someone if they came in, but he appreciated the action nonetheless.
Neal pushed himself on his elbow of his uninjured arm, trying to ignore the fire in his shoulder, and the two men waited with baited breath for one of the doors to open, not knowing whether it would be calvary or the enemy.
There was a gunshot and Neal flinched. Peter put his hand on Neal's ankle, right where his anklet usually was, and Neal bet he didn't even know he did it.
The sliding door opened and bright sunlight shone in, blinding both men for a moment. Two shadows appeared in the opening, guns pointed at the men inside of the van.
"FBI! Hands in the air!" someone that sounded a lot like Ruiz yelled, but both shadows lowered their guns when they saw it was their people.
"We need EMS, now!" Peter ordered, then turned back to Neal. "You're going to be fine, Neal," he said, but it looked like he was trying to convince himself of that fact more than Neal.
With the excitement over and the adrenaline rush fading, Neal energy seemed to dissipate. Neal nodded and let everything fade away. They were safe now and Peter would take care of everything else.
I would like to thank my sister and mother for helping come up with names, the coffin idea and for reading through my story to find any errors. And of course for their support.
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