Author's note: Thanks to all reviewers who pointed out the liver mistake. It has been fixed, as well as some embarrassing spelling mistakes.
Regarding chapter length, all chapters will be short. Don't expect long chapters. This is going to be a short story. There are only about five or six chapters to it. I'll try to keep updates frequent to make up for the short chapter lengths. I'm experimenting with different techniques and styles and this fic is one of them.
Thank you to all reviewers, watchers, and favs! I never expected that kind of reception to this story!
One of a Kind
Chapter Two:
Rikers Island, New York:
Powell crumbled the paper in his hand in frustration. It was just his luck that of all the people to be such a match it would be the one who helped land him in prison. A maniacal grin crossed his features. Yet, at the same time karma was at work. The one who tricked him into thinking he was going into kidney failure would be his saving grace. He smoothed the paper back out and carefully folded it. He slipped it into his pocket.
He leaned back against his bed, closing his eyes as he plotted. His lawyer would already be quickly at work, helping to lose him in mountains of paperwork. Escaping wouldn't be hard at all—not from this prison.
And so, when the lights shut off for night hours, it would begin…
FBI Bureau, New York City Headquarters:
Peter growled as he looked at the note in front of him. "What do you mean that Neal isn't here? He knows how important this case is for us!"
"We called his cell and already phoned June." Jones said, "She said he had left for work an hour ago."
"It's not like Neal to be late." Peter tossed the file onto his desk as looked at his agent, "Jones, get me Neal's tracking information."
"There's a problem with that," Cruz walked into the room, worry written on her face. "Neal's tracker just went offline. It's either been cut or tampered with." She stood in Peter's doorway, body tense and ready for orders.
"I'll go see what I can find." Jones turned and took his leave. Peter knew his agent was itching to get to the root of this problem. He knew that his agents and Neal had grown rather close despite their nonchalant attitudes or bickering. Neal was like a wayward puppy—it was impossible not to have affections of some sort for him.
"Damn it!" Peter slammed his fist down onto his desk. 'Where are you Neal? What have you gotten yourself into now?' Worry was churning in Peter's gut.
TBC
Author's note: Borrowed Riker's Island from Law and Order SVU. I figured it was better than making up some random name, especially when that name was "Queen Victoria's Prison" for some strange reason.
