The first thing he was aware of was a throbbing ache in the back of his head. The second thing he was aware of was that he couldn't move.
As his mind began to focus, Neal remembered the cause of the first thing. The second thing was still a mystery to him. He blinked and opened his eyes, and almost immediately squeezed them shut again to block out the harsh glare of the bright light above him.
He forced his eyes open again and tried to turn his head to the side, but found it immobilized like the rest of his body. Squinting against the brightness, he flicked his gaze to the left, to the right, then down. He was on a cold metal table, held down by strong black straps—one around each leg, one over his middle, and one across his forehead. His arms were spread out away from his body; the straps were positioned on his forearms, closer to his elbows than his wrists—too far away for his hands to reach, which meant he couldn't pick the locks. He wasn't going anywhere any time soon.
Great. That explained the second thing.
A third thing came to his mind. Where am I?
"Bout time you came around, Caffrey." A sickeningly familiar voice sounded from somewhere near Neal's head. I think I'm about to get my answer.
"Keller." Neal spat the name.
"Yeah, I'm impressed." His longtime adversary came into view, wearing the insolent smirk that seemed perpetually plastered to his face. "You figured out my anagram pretty quickly."
Neal shrugged as much as the restraints would allow him, which wasn't much. "Mark Lettle, Matt Keller, it wasn't hard. What do you want this time?"
"Well I'll make it short and simple." Keller said casually. "After all, I wouldn't want the Feds bustin' in here too soon. We only got half an hour before they decide to come lookin' for you when you don't call in."
Neal knew better than to ask how Keller knew about that. Keller had a strange knack for knowing things he shouldn't.
"I want revenge, Caffrey." Keller continued, casually pacing the length of the table and back. "You've caused me a lot of trouble, and I aim to repay that trouble."
"What are you gonna do?" Neal taunted. "You gonna kill me, Keller? The FBI will hunt you down if you do. If you kill me, Peter will find you and he will personally put a bullet through your skull. And that's if Mozzie doesn't get to you first. Believe me, you'd be better off with the bullet."
"Y'know, that's touchin', Caffrey, you havin' so much faith in your friends." Keller leaned in close and stared into Neal's eyes. "But I'm not stupid."
"Coulda fooled me." Neal retorted.
Keller stood up straight again. "Don't get me wrong, of course, I thought about it. Killing you would bring me great pleasure."
"Likewise."
"But it's just not good enough." Keller turned away from him and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "You die, that's the end of it. Sure, I could drag it out, make you suffer, but in the end you'd still be dead. It just wouldn't be satisfying enough to make you suffer and die."
He whirled around and leaned in close again. "I want to make you suffer and live."
Up to this point, Neal had been feeling a little scared. Now he was genuinely terrified. But he kept a careful mask of calm in place; he wasn't about to give Keller the satisfaction of knowing the dramatic scare tactics were actually working.
Keller's eyes fixed on his captive's face, waiting for a reaction. When he didn't get one, he gave a barely perceptible sneer of disappointment, then continued. "So I asked myself, 'What's the best way to make Neal Caffrey suffer?' Went through a lot of ideas, and believe me, I had some good ones. And then it hit me—I had to figure out what defines you. See that's the trick, Caffrey. You figure out what it is that defines a man; you take that away from him and he's not a man anymore. I know exactly what it is that defines you, and I know how to take it away from you."
He turned suddenly and called out, "Tommy!"
"Yeah?" Neal recognized the voice of the man he had met with less than an hour ago. A moment later he came into view. Medium length brown hair and a scraggly beard surrounded dark eyes and a surly-looking face.
"My front man, Tommy." Keller said with an air of introducing two people. "You know him as Mark Lettle. He's been doin' all the hands-on stuff that I couldn't do, bein' a wanted man and all. Helped me arrange this whole thing. He leaked word he needed a forger for a job, the Feds got wind of it, and took you off your leash so your cover wouldn't be blown." Keller took obvious pleasure in rehashing the steps he had taken to get Neal here. "Oh, and he's also the reason you're gonna have a nice bruise on the back of your head."
"Oh that was him, huh?" Neal grimaced.
Keller smirked. "Yeah but that's about to become the least'a your worries. Tommy, go get it."
Tommy nodded and disappeared again. Keller turned back to Neal.
"Sorry Caffrey," he pulled a strip of black cloth from his coat pocket and placed it over Neal's eyes, blindfolding him. "Much as I'd like for you to see this next part, I don't want you to know what's comin'. You might start strugglin' and make it a lot harder to do it right."
Neal heard footsteps coming towards them. "Got it." he heard the gruff voice again; Tommy was back with whatever it was that Keller had told him to bring. "You want me to do it?"
"No," Keller sounded delighted, which made Neal even more terrified. "Let me do it. You get ready to call 911 soon as we're outta the building."
"Huh?" Tommy sounded confused.
"We wouldn't want him bleedin' to death before the paramedics get here. That'd ruin everything."
Neal couldn't mask his fear any longer. He started shaking uncontrollably.
He could sense Keller's presence to his right. "Oh, Caffrey, I've been waitin' for this moment."
Neal braced himself. For a single moment that felt like an eternity, there was dead silence.
Suddenly everything was happening all at once...a sound like metal connecting with metal...something had hit the table...an overwhelming, sickening feeling swept over him...the blindfold was ripped off...the lights were blinding him once again as two sets of footsteps retreated...he heard a terrible, gut-wrenching, almost inhuman scream echoing through the empty room...it took a few seconds for his mind to register that the sound was coming from his own lips.
The world spun around him in a dizzying, surreal haze. He thought he heard sirens in the distance. He thought he felt pain...the reason for the screaming...but everything just felt...numb. Numb and painful at the same time, if it was possible. His breathing turned to rapid, frightened gasps...his eyes moved about wildly, then came to a stop when he looked to his right and the horrible realization of what Keller had done set in.
His right arm lay beside him on the table, blood pouring out of the place where it was supposed to be attached to his shoulder. But it wasn't. It wasn't attached.
Neal dimly heard the sirens getting closer as the world around him dissolved into a blur of pain and confusion.