Chapter 2

Yeah, okay, this chapter is like over twice as long as the first. Didn't expect that! (Picture David Tennant saying it like he said "double meaning in that!" in Much Ado About Nothing).

Also didn't expect so much support from all of you. Thank you *hug*. I really can't believe it and you had me smiling and blushing all day long. Thank you, thank you!

I also want to make clear (because I realize now that I didn't in the first chapter) that I totally do not plan on abandoning this fic. It just might not update as often during the fall semester. Right now I am updating as it is written. Once school starts on the 16th it might be weekly or even bi-weekly. We'll just have to see. I'm kind of hoping (but not really seeing it happen) that I'll finish it this next week.

And yeah. I had to add the "The" to the title because I'm just the kind of person that will be driven nuts over that.

Okay on with the show…

-.-

The next day at a warehouse on the docks.

The deal with Ruticker was almost done. All they had to do was agree on a method of payment.

"You seem like the kind of man who wants his property to make him money Mr. Lead. Are you that kind of man?" Ruticker asked his cold gray eyes studying Peter.

"I suppose I am. Any smart man would see the benefit in that." Peter answered and it was true any smart person would see the benefit, but it scared Peter to think of the ways this man before him could distort it.

Ruticker smiled at his answer allowing for perfectly straight and yellow teeth to overtake his wrinkled but perfectly manscaped face. "Good, good." He motioned one of his henchmen forward. "I don't exactly have the 20 thousand on hand, just 10 thousand, thanks to the FBI crashing on my last project." This was said bitterly before quickly moving on, not allowing Peter a word in edgewise. "I do, however, have a piece of property that could easily double that ten grand within a month or two you can have. If you'd like?"

Peter nodded, a little worry of where this was headed. However, he just wanted to make the deal and leave so they could arrest these creeps. "I see no reason why not. If you think this piece of property is worth that much?"

"Oh I do, Mr. Lead." Ruticker interrupted.

"However, I must ask why you are so eager to get rid of this property if it's so valuable?" Peter asked, a little surprised at how eager Ruticker was for the deal. Guess if you are desperate for the means to flee the country you get eager. Of course, Peter couldn't appear too eager either less the creep got suspicious.

Ruticker laughed. "Oh, if I could keep it I would Mr. Lead. However, with us leaving the country tomorrow I sadly cannot."

Peter rolled his shoulders. "Very well. I guess it is a good thing I am here to take it off your hands less it goes to waste."

"Deal?"

"Deal." Peter answered Ruticker as the criminal motioned one henchman to go get the property and the other to open the briefcase of money.

It didn't take long for Peter to verify the money, it wouldn't matter anyway after Ruticker was behind bars, but he was done by the time the henchman was returning with the property.

The property which turned out to be a struggling teenage boy.

Worry blossomed in Peter's gut. There was no way the teenager was anything but that. He couldn't be any older than 15, 16 if he was lucky. One more thing was wrenching at Peter's gut as it was made clear. There was no way the teenager was coming on his own freewill.

The boy was pulling against the henchman, trying to go around him, behind him, push into and pull away from him. Anything to get away. Every once in a while a wheezing cough would rattle its way through the boy's bones.

About halfway, from the door they came from and Ruticker, the henchman stopped as the kid almost got away. Taking one bulky hand from the boy's wrists he placed it one the boy's throat. The boy stilled instantly. Never moving a muscle. It was just a warning. The boy could still breathe but it was obvious there had been times before today he could not.

He didn't move, not till the other henchman, at Ruticker's command, took one of the boy's arms. Then, and only then, did the other henchman let go of the boy's throat. Together the two of them dragged the, once again, protesting boy by his arms to Ruticker and Peter.

Immediately the boy began to spit at Ruticker.

"I won't do it! Whatever it is I won't do it!" A coughing fit brock into is desperate shouting. "You could let me go. Really you could. I'm no use to you anymore. I wouldn't tell anyone I promise."

Ruticker smirked and that was when Peter noticed the crudely splintered right hand.

The boy seemed to almost growl. Well, growl as much as he could seeing as his breathing was nothing but rasps. "I'll bust my other hand!" When he still got no response from Ruticker he seemed to deflate. "Nothing you'll do will make me do it. Nothing. Just kill me already." His shouting grew soft at the end and made Peter feel sick behind his disguise of nonchalant lowlife.

Ruticker growled. "Shut him up!"

It didn't take long for the two henchmen to gag and tape the boy's mouth shut.

The boy still coughed or tried to at least, through the gag. Soon though he just sagged in the henchman's grip as he stared daggers at Ruticker.

"This Mr. Lead." Ruticker smirked again as he took the boy's chin and tilted it up. "Is Neal Caffrey."

Ruticker's smirk only broadened when he saw the way Peter's jaw went slack and his attention snapped to the boy. His slimy, yet manicured hands dropped the boy's head before lifting the boy's right hand which was encased in an odd exoskeleton of wood and bandages. As the hand was moved for inspection it drew a wince from the boy whose eyes shut with pain. "He busted his hand about a month back, but there was no nerve damage of any kind. He should be right as rain here in a few weeks."

Having noted Peter was still staring slack-jawed at the boy Ruticker smirked again. "I take it you have heard of Caffrey, Mr. Lead?" Though he phrased it as one, it really wasn't a question.

At Peter's nod he continued. "Hard to believe such talent could be found in one so young."

As Ruticker talked, Peter took the time to actually look at the kid. Dark brown, floppy hair hung down below the boy's ears and in front of his piercing blue eyes. Though those same eyes were bright with a fire Peter couldn't help but feel they were duller than they should be. That coupled with the flush on the boy's face gave the appearance of a fever. Of course the rattling noise the boy was producing with every breath also helped give the opppression of illness. The boy also seemed to hang between the two henchmen, relying on them to keep him upright.

The very appearance of the boy made Peter angry at the boy's wardens and oddly protective of the very person he was meant to be hunting.

But this boy? This teenage boy, this child really, could he actually be Neal Caffrey? The elusive master forger, thief and conman Peter had been going after for a year and a half? It hardly seemed likely. Yet, if he could get this kid, who might be Caffrey, out of Ruticker's hands he'd count it as a win. And if, (and boy was a huge if) on some off chance it really was Neal Caffrey then he'd also count it as a win. Though it would be a disappointing end to his chase.

"I can see you thinking now Mr. Lead. I assure you this boy can forge you anything your heart desires. In fact, before he broke his hand, he had just finished some paintings for the Brooklyn Museum."

Which are now in the possion of the FBI. Peter thought, which only made him think of what Diana had said the night before "Some of the paintings connected to Ruticker have traits of his."

Damn, maybe this is Caffrey?

The boy struggled to cough behind the gag again.

"It is what we agreed on Ruticker. I won't back out. Though we will see if he holds up to what you promise." Peter looked at his watch to hide the grimace that etched his face as the boy whimpers at his words. "I do, however, need to be going."

Ruticker nodded as he digs a package out of his breast pocket and handed it to the thinner of the henchmen. "Of course, of course. Let's just package your payment up, shall we?"

Peter could see the whites of boy's eyes now as he struggled in the grip of the bulky henchman as the other came nearer with the needle and syringe that had come out of Ruticker's package. The boy's struggles abruptly lessen as soon as the lug's hand grabbed his throat again. This time his fear is far too great to completely stop is withering.

Ruticker could see the way Peter was looking at the syringe suspiciously. "It's just a sedative to make transport easier." Ruticker said flatly as if this was ordinary business.

Peter nodded as he watched the henchman take hold of the thrashing arm, struggling to keep it still as he drugged the boy. It doesn't take long for the boy to go limp. His crystal blue eyes, full of fear, blinked slowly before rolling into his head and closing.

"You'll have a half an hour to get him someplace secure. I suggest someplace without locks for him to pick. He can get out cuffs too." Ruticker said to Peter before turning to his men. "Take him to Mr. Lead's car, will you?"

The henchman still holding the boy's throat, in spite of the boy being unconscious, nodded before throwing the boy onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

It took all of Peter's will to keep himself composed as he shook Ruticker's hand before taking the briefcase of money and leading the henchman outside to his car. There the henchman placed the unconscious boy in the back seat, ripped off the tape and gag, and, surprisingly, buckled him in.

Seeing Peter's surprise the henchman smiled. "Less suspicious dis way. Looks like he just 'ell asleep 'ile you're driving 'im."

Peter nodded, understanding squishing his gut, before getting in his car and driving off.

When they are about a block away and pass The Van Peter talked. "I hope you got all that. They're all yours. I'm getting this kid back to the safe house as quickly as I can."

He didn't hear a response. He couldn't with a one way radio, but by looking out the rearview mirror he could see the agents piling out of the The Van and other strategic places to flood the warehouse.

From there, it doesn't take much for his gaze to shift to the boy in the back seat. A quick look is all he gets but it is enough for his gut to pinch.

Part of him wanted to believe the sick and unconscious kid in his backseat was just a poor unfortunate who would, finally, be getting a chance at life. Another part of him wanted to believe the kid was Neal Caffrey, James Bonds, and this finally meant they had him.

Yet another part of him, the part that was no doubt the stongest, and strangest, kept asking 'What if it's both?'