(Chapter 3)
Neal had heard the men speaking, hiding behind the cement column unseen and waiting for them to move away. When they finally did he quietly moved to where he'd last left Peter. The agent was in danger if they found him. Neal made his way up through what looked like an abandoned loading docks, a crooked sign with safety rules hanging on the wall. He was starting to recognize the plant again, the section they had entered and where Peter might still be. He crept along through the dust and debris till he saw him, the agent bending over to look at something.
He was going to run over when he saw another figure, one of the men he'd seen and heard earlier, moving quietly towards Peter. The agent didn't see them as Neal called out his friend's name but it was too late. The man clocked the agent across the back of the head as Neal tried to run forward and help. He had only taken a few steps when he heard the shot and felt a horrible burning pain in his chest, breath catching in his throat as he gasped for air.
Pe... ter!
He couldn't speak, his body falling to the ground as he saw Peter struggling to get to him but the man hit him again and the agent slumped in their grasp as they tied him to a chair. Neal lay on the ground there, someone kicking him in the side before they dragged him a few feet away, a trail of warm sticky blood left behind on the dusty ground.
"Gerald warned us. At least we can clean up this mess before anyone else comes. Nobody has to know they were here."
Neal heard the man speaking as another man pulled back Peter's head, the agent obviously unconscious and then let it go. He smiled with a dark satisfaction.
"This one's out cold. Take his gun and phone."
The man that had held Peter's head complied to the speaker as Neal felt himself fading away, a warm wetness growing beneath him as he struggled for breath... life... heart beating faster than it should, breath ragged and raspy as he tried to fight... tried to live. He wanted to help his friend and he had failed. They were going to die here.
It wasn't your fault... Peter... it wasn't your fault. I should have gotten to you sooner. I'm sorry, Peter. Forgive me...
He was losing consciousness, his heart beating erratically as he lost more and more blood. Someone stood over and watched him, one of the men. They looked at him dispassionately as if he were just some animal hit by a car on the road. A deer that had been caught in the headlights. That's what he had been. If he'd been swifter... faster... they'd be alive.
His heart was skipping now, beating abnormally as he thought he might gasp his last breath... Neal shuddered as the clock ticked down and his breath began to grow more shallow. He felt a horrible coldness descend upon him and he wanted to claw up out of the ice as his vision grayed and darkened and the tunnel deepened till the man staring at him was no more than a mall dot and then... blackness.
()()()
He didn't remember waking up. He just was. Neal found himself staring down at his friend, the agent slumped in the wooden chair, arms pulled tightly behind him, chin resting loosely on his chest.
Neal reached to brush a strand of hair from the agent's face, Peter shifting slightly as he coughed and started to come to. He felt like he was dreaming, everything seemingly slow moving as he nudged the agent awake till he was certain his friend was alive and well. Peter seemed confused not looking directly at him which made Neal wonder what was wrong.
He spoke to his friend but it seemed that Peter barely heard him, moving towards a bin and throwing up once he was loose of his bonds. The agent didn't look well at all, his face pale, cheeks flushed. Neal kept talking to him but it was strange that Peter didn't really react. He seemed to close his eyes and then look up at him but when he was looking... really looking he didn't seem to notice him. It confused the con till Peter told him to turn around. Neal wasn't sure what to expect when he saw the figure laying prone on the cement. The figure was nearly ashen, eyes staring upwards through slits, lots of blood beneath them in a large pool. The man was dead. He had to be but... it was him. Neal was looking at himself!
It couldn't be true! He tried to turn, to ask his friend and then he felt himself in darkness again. Trapped in a cold icy blackness that ate at him and made him scream. He was contained in the gloom but he could see just a faint hint of light as he saw someone crouch over him and felt warm salty tears hit dead skin. He had to be dead. How could he explain what was happening otherwise?
Peter! Don't leave me... Peter!
His friend didn't hear him, couldn't as he gently held the con a moment before leaving him there alone.
PETER!
He was screaming, crying and yelling but the agent still didn't hear him as he took off at an unsteady lope. He saw the figure disappear from view till others came. He recognized them as the men who had shot him and hurt his friend. Anger raged within him but he was still trapped, reality setting in when he realized what he was now.
"The other one escaped! Look for him or Gerald will have our hides! You... take this one to that storage spot. Clean up the mess when you're done. The rest of you get the goods and leave."
He felt hands lift him up and drag him away. Neal was trapped in his own body unable to do anything but yell and scream only to his own ears. He was dead and nobody would find him now. He could just see where he was, what was going on when they opened up the hole and dropped him inside.
"Now that he's there, we can go clean up and help kill the agent too."
Peter?
They were talking about his friend and partner. Peter was still in danger!
PETER!
He was suddenly by the car, standing outside the wall and seeing Peter on the phone, his cell with someone. He could hear bits and pieces till he realized the agent had called Jones and back up would be on its way. He had to kill time, voices carrying from inside the wall. Neal moved away suddenly finding himself inside near a small pile of rocks. He moved to pick one up but his hand went through.
Not now... I was just... moving things.
He tried again, Neal getting frustrated when he saw them heading to the gate. His anger rose and he finally felt something in him that made his hand touch the rock and throw it off to the side. The men turned and ran that way, relief washing over the con. He found himself back at Peter's car, the man slumped over and breathing hard. Neal knelt beside him, comforting him and telling him all would be ok before he found himself fading into the background.
()()()
It was all Neal could do not to go crazy. He was trapped, always going back to his dead body in the small storage space where Gerald's men had placed him. He wasn't sure exactly where he was, a darkened space which felt cool and icy making his already cold dead body feel like a freezer. At times he thought he felt something stir in his body but he was so cold and the darkness too thick for him to do more than deal with his death or leave.
He could go for short sprints he found, visiting his friend while Peter was healing. He watched the Burkes, Satchmo seeing him but nobody else. He thought the agent heard him but realized Peter was in denial, guilt keeping him from believing. Peter was not the kind of man who believed in the supernatural nor was Neal as he tried to make contact. He didn't want to disappear, knowing Gerald's men would bury his body where it would never be found. He had to get Peter to hear him. Someone had to hear him!
At some point he found himself in his apartment at June's. She was gone but he knew she had recently been there. He sensed someone else, a person in his room as he stood by the sofa and saw Mozzie lying there. The little guy had been drinking, heavily from the looks of it as Neal sat beside him and spoke softly.
I never meant to leave, Mozzie. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
He saw the con shift in his sleep, wrapping his arms around him as he shivered some. Neal kept talking, telling Mozz not to worry and to let Peter know he was sorry. It wasn't his fault.
Then the bell rang and Mozz was awake, moving downstairs to find Peter there, Neal already by the door watching. Nobody acted conscious of him in the room but the agent seemed to be reacting when he spoke. He kept trying to get them to respond but finally they both went upstairs, Neal already there when they arrived. Peter and Mozz were out on the terrace, the agent telling his friend the truth of what had happened. The agent blamed himself for Neal's death and Mozzie told him not to worry but Peter didn't believe even when Neal made a noise. He wanted them know... to see him there and take the clues he left. Why wouldn't they believe!
Peter went in cautiously after the noise and saw what Neal's action had done. Instead of reacting he just put the stuff back and closed the hidden panel. Neal was upset. He wanted him to know and see. His body was hidden as the panel and passport had been. Gerald's men would move him soon. They had to find him before that happened!
PETER!
He cried out in frustration seeing both men cringe at the sound of his voice and he knew they had heard him although neither seemed anxious to admit it. He couldn't stay much longer. His time was short, energy wasted when he left his body. He wouldn't be able to do this for much longer as his time came closer. He wasn't even sure how he was doing it. He just did and so he was taking advantage of the situation while he had it. Peter was leaving so Neal followed the agent as he spoke to El on the cell and then started down the stairs. He saw Peter start to trip as he reached to pull him back but it was too late, his hand touching nothing as he heard Mozz cry out. The agent rolled down the stairs with a sickening crunch and lay crumpled at the bottom.
()()()
Neal was beside his friend in a heartbeat, watching Mozzie worry over the agent something he never expected. He thought about Elizabeth as he watched the still form of his friend on the ground. Peter couldn't leave her. He wouldn't let him! Suddenly he found himself at the Burkes' again. Satchmo perked up and looked at him curiously, a friendly snuffling sound coming from the huge lab. Neal petted the dog as much as he could till he saw the person he was seeking.
Elizabeth was sleeping on the sofa, her cell phone on the coffee table beside her. He reached to touch her face, a worried look in his eyes as he spoke softly. She shifted slightly as he did so and then she was awake and looking around. He wasn't sure if she had heard him but she reacted in much the same manner as Mozzie and Peter had, Elizabeth throwing something warm around her. He seemed to give off an aura of coolness when people sensed him. It was all he knew at the moment, that cold icy feeling as he felt himself drawn back away from the room and back to his dead body back at the bottling plant. The place they kept him was cool and dark and although his eyes were partially open he saw nothing in the dark cramped space. There were sounds and he thought for a moment someone was with him but all he could think about was the cold. He wanted to be free of it and leave. It was like his anklet, his spirit trapped within the small radius of his body only able to roam when something let him out long enough to do a task. He couldn't quite compare it to his deal with Peter. This was so much worse as he fought the darkness and then felt a hand on his.
Peter?
There was light, bright blinding light but he didn't react. How could he? He was dead wasn't he? He heard men talking, Gerald's goons and then he saw him.
Peter?
He slowly felt his spirit come to, pulling free finally when the men had left and Peter stood alone before the hole where his body lay hidden. He called to his friend and the agent turned, happy to see him. Peter hugged him, something the man would rarely do but it felt good. Once they had finished hugging Neal knew he had to take Peter home. His time was close now. He could feel it and the agent knew where Neal's body was now. That's all he needed to know to rest and say good-bye. They walked and talked towards the front of the building where Neal stopped and told Peter he had to go. The agent refused to abandoned him again but the con knew he couldn't leave this place as his friend could. This was his tomb unless Peter left now and came back with others to find his body before Gerald's men moved it. He pushed his friend away when Peter refused to go and then the agent was gone. Neal just stood there staring across the overgrown yard outside of the plant at the fence beyond. He hoped Peter would remember what happened as he felt himself slowly fading away.
()()()
The taxi arrived at the Burkes' a little while later, Elizabeth waking her husband who had fallen asleep in the backseat. He still seemed a bit groggy but she knew with the last head injury that would be normal the first day or two. She paid the driver and helped Peter walk up the few steps to their door, opening it up and leading him to the couch. He said few words, curling up with his hands under his head and quickly falling back to sleep. She could tell he was exhausted but the tightness in his face indicated he was worried about something. Peter had mentioned looking for Neal and knowing where he was. Elizabeth gently kissed her husband on the forehead, throwing a blanket over him as she moved quietly away to go fix a late lunch.
()()()
Peter was having a nightmare. It's all he could explain it as, memories of when he'd been hit over the head by Gerald's men coming back to him and his brief view of Neal being shot. He remembered coming to, thinking he had heard his partner talking but the man was dead. He knew he had to be dead, the large pool of blood around his body and the lack of color to his skin. Neal couldn't still be alive. He had felt so cold and waxy, eyes open just a hint and staring glassily without moving. Nobody could be alive after that. He wanted to think his friend was no longer in pain but in a better place.
Pe... ter?
He could hear his friend's voice but it was so quiet... so very faint as he tried to peer around the plant and find the young man.
NEAL? Where are you!
He was calling out, walking aimlessly through the bottling plant searching for the con. He kept returning to the spot where Neal had been killed and he had been tied up. He realized he was lost when he heard his friend again.
Pe...
The voice cut off and Peter no longer felt his friend's presence. He had finally realized what it was he had been feeling. That cool wind that whipped quietly around him and the voice in his head. It had been Neal. Neal had been here trying to talk to him. Tell him where he was. Getting Peter's attention.
The agent opened his eyes and looked around. It was late afternoon, early evening. He sat up and saw the sun low in the sky outside the window and the dim lighting in the den. The house was quiet and he rose with a quiet wince, his body still aching from his fall earlier that day. Apparently he hadn't broken anything but his head had hit the edge of the stairs hard enough he could still feel the bump on his head. Maybe he should have let the doctor read him the report but he had seemed very nonplus about the whole thing especially when Elizabeth asked if he was going home. Peter eased himself to his feet, feeling the pain from his bruises and making his way towards the kitchen. The light over the sink was on but it was quiet. He must have slept for some time if the sun was sinking already. Peter wondered where his wife was when Satchmo padded over and tugged on his hand.
"What is it Satch?"
The dog whined quietly, peering at the backdoor. Peter suddenly remembered that night he saw Satch by the backdoor. He'd had a certain feeling... He reached for the knob and opened the door to find Mozzie skulking there.
"Suit... Hi."
Peter blinked looking at the little guy a moment before finally motioning him to come inside. Mozzie obliged as he glanced at the slightly worse for wear looking agent.
"I'm glad you're better. I needed to talk to you about something."
The little guy was already moving towards the sofa to sit when he picked something up off the floor by the phone and held it up.
"I think your wife left you a note."
Peter closed the door and walked back over to grab the note, reading it.
Peter,
Went to work on some last minute details for the event next week. Will be back soon, hon.
~El~
He smiled at the note as Mozzie tried to be quiet but finally made a coughing sound.
"So what is it you wanted to talk about?"
Peter went back to the kitchen, grabbing himself a beer and offering one to Mozzie who took it.
"Thanks... uhm, it's about Neal. He's gone."
Peter blinked, turning to see the little guy just looking at him as if he would know what that meant.
"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"
He saw Mozzie move closer and blinked at him behind his glasses.
"I don't feel him anymore. I know you heard him today. He called your name out. He made that panel fall. It was obvious even if we don't want to believe it. He even came to me in a dream. It was Neal!"
Peter realized he couldn't deny it any longer. His memory was still a bit fuzzy from the hit to his head but he had heard and seen Neal. He had dreamed of him and the bottling plant. He had to go back there.
"Ok... let's say I did felt his presence, Satchmo too... he was dead when I saw him last. It's been a week. I can't... I can't believe he could still be alive after this long."
He wasn't upset that Mozzie had made him admit the truth but that he knew his friend had to be dead. It would be a miracle if he was alive with what he knew and the length of time. Mozzie shook his head.
"I knew a man who seemed dead to everyone till they brought him in for an autopsy and he scared the coroner by crying. Tears were dripping from his eyes, Suit! That was how they knew he was still alive when everything seemed to say otherwise. They hooked him up to a machine and it found a very weak pulse and beat. He'd been like that for a good week before they'd found him."
Peter nodded, his mind trying to work around what he knew and could be. Was Neal still alive? Could he be? The only way to know was to go to the plant and see if he could find his friend's body.
"Mozz... I need to ask a favor."
()()()
Elizabeth Burke came home thirty minutes later to find the house quiet. She saw no sign of her husband or the dog but her note was still stuck on the wall by the phone. She went over to pull it off when she realized it wasn't her note.
El,
Something came up. I think I know where Neal is. Will call you soon. Mozz is with me, hon.
Peter
She blinked, a worried look crossing her face. Peter still had the bump to his head. She sighed pulling out her cell and calling a familiar number.
"Reese, it's me."
()()()
It didn't take long to get to the bottling plant, the last rays of sunlight still sinking over the city. They had only stopped long enough to get some supplies and then head out for the plant. Mozz was excited but worried that they might be too late if what they guessed was true.
"We have to get in through here."
Mozz nodded as they both pushed the gate quietly open and slipped under the chain. Satchmo quietly followed on his lead as Peter pulled him along. There were no signs of any one else there so Gerald and his men must have cleared out when the Feds came. Good news for Peter and Mozz.
"Suit... did we really have to bring your dog along?"
Peter nodded as he looked down at the drooling lab who seemed happy to be out and in a new place.
"I wasn't going to leave him alone at home. Besides, he can pick up a scent or two, can't you boy?"
Satch looked up at them with his tongue sticking out kind of dopey. Mozzie looked unimpressed.
"Well, I hope he's at least a good early warning system in case someone sneaks up on us, Suit. You have your uhm weapon with you?"
Peter nodded in the dim darkness as they skirted across the open yard and made it to the entrance of the plant. They waited till they made it inside before using their flashlights. The place was empty far as they could tell as they moved along in the darkness. Peter led the way as he moved knowingly through the gloomy plant. He'd dreamed of it plenty of times that he felt he knew where he was going till they found themselves in a dead end.
"Ok, Suit. I think we all know why you aren't a con man or a thief."
He turned to glare at Mozzie who just held up a hand.
"I'm just saying."
Peter sighed as he moved back the way they came and tried to think which way was it he was trying to go. He had a feeling...
"Satch!"
The dog had broken loose by suddenly running with out Peter being ready and the lead was trailing behind the dog with a quiet rattle as the agent ran after him and Mozzie tried to follow. Peter didn't realize he had lost the little guy till he turned and realized he didn't know where he was and Satchmo was no where to be seen.
"Here boy... Satch... com..."
Someone pushed a gun to his temple and he froze as he heard someone speak.
"Well... My men thought they wouldn't have the opportunity to kill you, Agent Burke."
Peter turned slightly to see someone shine a flashlight on the person speaking. It was Gerald, several of his men around him coming out of hiding as he saw the man who'd kidnapped him just a week ago holding the gun on him again.
"So now we get rid of both of our loose ends. Did you bring anyone else with you? I heard you call a name."
Peter swallowed hard but was glad they didn't know about Mozzie. He could only hope the little guy was hiding and wouldn't show up. He shook his head, standing up straight.
"I was walking my dog and he led me here."
He watched Gerald smile slightly and sigh. Another figure came up behind him and that's when Peter felt his blood run cold. Vicconi stood there, all 6 feet or so of him. He was a big guy with dark blond hair and deep hazel green eyes. He was dangerous but nobody had ever been able to convict him. If this guy was here, Peter was a goner.
"Now, I think you know my associate here. Shame you're not on this case anymore. One more thing for the new department to search for: A missing agent and consultant. Such a shame they won't find your bodies. Put him with the other one."
Peter felt his gun taken away, his cell removed and his arms pulled tightly behind him, the sound of zip ties evident. He winced a bit as he was pushed forward. The light was dim with the flashlights but he could just make out a bit of the scenery as he started to recognize it.
"This was a great place while it lasted but now we have to move. Too much traffic."
Peter struggled a bit but felt a gun pressed to his back and stopped, moving forward as he was pressed ahead. The area they were in was dimly lit and with the flashlight's glow he was able to finally recognize the spot. He hadn't been here but he had dreamed of it. He saw the crooked sign on the wall and realized this was where Neal had asked him to come to. He looked ahead where the floor was just a bit off, goons pulling a panel aside revealing a hidden storage area.
"In the old days they used this small root cellar to hide moonshine and alcohol before this became a bottling plant. A very nice place to store a couple of bodies and keep them on ice."
His blood ran cold at the comment as someone wrapped a hand around his mouth and nose and he smelled a sickly sweet aroma fill his nostrils.
"Make sure it's finished this time!"
He heard the man hiss as he started to succumb to the scent and slumped down to the ground, the person holding him following him as he passed out into oblivion.
()()()
Peter had an odd dream. He was running through the bottling plant calling out loudly, looking for something. He wasn't sure what at first till he found himself at the docks again, the crooked sign obvious and the panel to the place that Neal should be open and empty.
NEAL!
He was calling his friend's name looking everywhere for him but the con was missing.
NEAL!
He kept crying out for his friend, hoping to find him and then he saw Satchmo, the yellow lab running to him and cocking his head to one side as he looked at him.
Find Neal, Satch. Find Neal...
He saw the dog looking at him oddly then with a dopey look the lab started to run away, pausing when Peter didn't follow. The agent took off after the dog as he tried to keep up with his pet. Finally he found himself back where it had started. The remains of the blood stain obvious as he knelt there, Satch whining some as he sniffed at the spot.
I miss him too Satch...
Peter felt a warmth in his eyes when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked up to see a very faint figure standing there.
Neal?
The young man was talking to him, a sad look on his face but he couldn't hear anything. He tried to read Neal's lips but he was becoming more and more see-thru.
Neal? I can't... hear you. Speak up!
He saw a sad smile on his friend's face as he watched him turn and point towards the exit. Peter was still trying to figure out what Neal was trying to tell him when Satchmo barked, drawing his attention back from his friend to the dog.
It was dark but he could hear a barking sound nearby. Peter wasn't sure what was going on as he heard a scratching sound too and voices. His head was fuzzy and he could only remember that Neal had tried to tell him something, pointing back at the exit. What had he been saying. He played back what he thought he'd read of his friend's lips and then he knew.
Peter... help is coming. Just hold on... I'm sorry... can't stay... good-b...
The agent struggled to wake up, wanting to make a sound but he was gagged, arms and legs tied securely but he kicked as hard as he could up at the top of the small space hoping beyond hope Satch had brought help. He heard more voices and then people pulling something aside and a hint of light. He wasn't sure he could stay awake much longer, his head aching from the chloroform and his head injury. His body weakened and he finally slumped in the dimly lit darkness. He felt himself shiver in the cold dark space. He thought he heard a voice say "FBI" before he started to feel his consciousness slipping away.
Someone was coming for them, bleary eyes turning to see another shape laying still and unmoving just a few feet away from him in the cold enclosure.
They're coming, Neal. Hold on a while longer. Please... just hold on...