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Had Neal been sure that Danval's less than friendly associates were gone he might have chosen differently. At the very least, he might have delayed and looked for a way to search for himself. But knowing every minute counted and that Peter was probably worried sick, he did the one thing that Mozzie would strenuously have argued against.

Now Neal fidgeted in his quarters in the embassy. He's poked his head out once on the pretense of finding a snack. They'd sent something up, but he confirmed he was under guard. He wasn't to leave the suite until sent for. There was a guard right outside the door as well as at the end of the hall and he was on an upper story with no way from the window to the ground. It wasn't that he regretted heading for the embassy, he just wasn't thrilled at the treatment.

He'd avoided blowing his cover, using the false ID and claiming he urgently needed to make contact with an FBI agent in the States. This had gotten him into the gate. Unfortunately, no matter how relieved Peter was to hear from him, he wasn't going to lie about his identity. Possibly he couldn't, even if he would, Neal suspected he was on a speaker phone and Hughes was there too. It had gone downhill from there, as Neal Caffrey was revealed to be a felon. He supposed he should be grateful not to be locked in a prison cell. But he really wanted to do more to find his team mates.

Sitting up on the bed, Neal sketched lightly on a pad of paper he'd found in the room's desk. He sketched his Danval's crews and made notes about anything that might prove useful. He took a deep breath and acknowledged he really was better off. He was on a decent bed in a decent room with a bathroom, sunlight and regular food. It beat out imprisonment in a cargo container by miles. There was a knock on the door. Neal looked up, startled. Normally a prisoner had little say if anyone entered their space.

"Come in."

The door opened. Neal burst into a relieved grin. "Peter! Taking an impromptu vacation?"

Peter shook his head and came in. "It took some persuading but since I had two other people MIA down here I won the argument. I hitched a ride with the marshals to come get you."

Neal frowned.

"Or would you rather spend time alone with them?"

"No, thank you. I find the marshals aren't the friendliest bunch. At least not when they are in a bunch. What about the others?"

"I'm going to check out what's up with that. They've got the locals sending out search teams."

Neal sighed, set the pad down. Peter glanced at it, came back for a longer look.

"What happened to the GPS? We lost you at the warehouses."

Neal held his wrist up, sans watch. "I crashed into a table and busted it." The bruises were turning colors now. Suddenly, Neal's eyes widened and he jumped up, mouth open. "Peter!"

Peter looked up from Neal's notes.

"Jones has the watch. I managed to smuggle some tools from working on the documents to him. He couldn't work on it in the hold, it was too dark. But maybe now..."

"We may be able to pick up a signal." Peter nodded slowly. "If he was able to fix it."

They spent the rest of the day going over Neal's notes, and comparing what Peter brought with him. "Can we go out to eat?" Neal finally asked.

"You aren't leaving the embassy." Peter responded flatly, without looking up. "The marshal's are nervous at you being out of the States as it is."

"I'll settle for out of this room. I've been locked in here..."

"What did you expect?"

"I didn't flee, I was shanghaied. I didn't have to come to the embassy and subject myself to this. I could've just split for Europe. My ID was good enough. I should know, I made it."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I know. All right."

Neal was relieved by this. Peter, however was looking at some of the unfamiliar cuisine in the embassy dining room doubtfully. "What am I eating?"

"Just try it. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I wore it out worrying about you. I'm saving the rest for Diana and Jones."

Neal peered at the file Peter had brought to the table. "So these jewels were never reported stolen anywhere?"

"Oh they were reported all right. But we can't figure out how they got to Danval. His crew had an alibi at the time. All the connections you identified were otherwise occupied too."

"So maybe they were stolen by someone else entirely and then used as currency."

"But someone somewhere along the way wasn't happy with what they got, or maybe there was a double cross. But according to Mozzie...who was frantic when we lost track of you, by the way,... someone else is looking for Danval. And they've been breaking bones to prove it."

"Ouch." Neal winced.

"Bigger ouch." Peter fired back. "You were in a deal to buy jewels from Danval. That knowledge is out there. So guess who they are going to want to talk to?"

"Oh." Neal pondered this. "So maybe Danval really did do me a favor, or thinks he did, by forcing me along. But he seemed to think I was working for someone out to get him." He frowned. "Or someone he worked with did. I figured they thought I worked for the competitor."

"And I'm thinking that's the advantage we had when they took Diana and Jones. They won't hurt them because they know that they may end up needing protection from whoever is after them. We'd never make a deal if they hurt our own."

The ambassador hurried in then. He paused, studying Neal munching a slice of bread while Peter cautiously sampled the food. "I've been looking for you." He was speaking to Peter but glanced at Neal without prejudice. "We've picked up the signal you asked us to watch out for. The locals are on the way to investigate.

Peter and Neal grinned.

"I knew he could do it." Neal announced.

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did. Why do you think I smuggled him the tools?"

The ambassador smiled slightly and relaxed at the banter. "We'll know soon." The ambassador sat down and gave Peter a knowing look. "How do you like the food?"

"It's fine." Peter fudged. "I'm just not used to it. My wife and Neal here are the fancy food buffs."

The ambassador laughed. "How fancy it is depends on what country your in. In some places eating a hamburger is sacrilege."

It was less than half an hour before it was confirmed that both Jones and Diana had been found, trudging along a road. After waiting what seemed like forever, the two came into the embassy, hot, dusty and looking much like Neal had when he awoke in the hotel. No, Caffrey decided. They looked worse. They had a long hike and had been dressed for business not exercise.

"Caffrey, here we are being eaten alive by bugs and walking for miles and we find you schmoozing with a fine glass of embassy wine." Jones flung his hands in the air. "I should've known."

Neal grinned. "I'm glad you guys are okay."

Peter rose and looked them over. "Are you hurt?"

"No, we're fine. They just wanted to know what we knew and if the FBI would make any kind of deal for information trading. Then they let us out in the middle of nowhere." Diana growled. She looked at Neal in amusement, shaking his head. "Jones is right though. How come you get to the comfy embassy first while we have to tramp miles?"

"They dropped me off at a hotel. Didn't know I was with you guys, remember?" Neal smirked.

"When did you get here, boss?" Diana asked Peter.

"After a couple of hours insisting that since I had three people here and wrangled my way onto the plane the US marshal's used to get here." He took a step back. "Why don't you two get cleaned up. We're heading back tomorrow if you're up to it."

"Yes. Please. Civilization...no offense ambassador..." Jones noted. "Nice, quiet, nothing happens in the van stuff."

"You were kidnapped out of the van." Neal noted.

"Don't spoil my fantasy."