"Come on guys," he said, his voice a little desperate. "What aren't you telling me?"

The group exchanged glances, then turned to him. Peter sighed, taking a seat next to Neal's bed. He was silent for a moment, trying to find a way to tell him what had happened.

"Peter?" Neal prompted, growing anxious.

"They never found Mason's body, Neal. Mason escaped," Peter said finally.

Neal stared at him blankly. "No, that's impossible. I saw him. You guys shot him at least ten times," he said in disbelief.

Peter nodded. "We know. But there was a door behind the crates. It led outside. We think he was wearing a vest, and that while I was with you and Diana and Jones were helping clear the rest of the house, he got up and escaped though there."

Neal fell silent, trying to process the information he just received. "So he could come back…"

"We're not going to let him anywhere near you or Jessica, Neal," Diana assured him.

"We set up a protection detail. He's not going to do a thing to either one of you," Jones chimed in.

"Do you have any idea where he is?" Neal asked.

Peter sighed. "No. It's like he vanished into thin air." Seeing Neal's fear-filled eyes, he rushed to add, "But we've frozen all his assets, put out a B.O.L.O. on him, flagged his passport, set up road blocks…he's not getting out of this city."

Neal shifted his gaze to Mozzie. His friend took the cue. "I've asked around to all our forger friends. No one has made anything for him, no one has seen him. I'm working on getting a line on him, but like The Suit said, it's like he vanished into thin air."

Neal let his head fall back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought they were safe. But Mason was still out there, waiting.

The rest of the visit was short, everyone seeming a little desperate to get out of there. When they were gone, a wave of fatigue washed over Neal, and soon he was fast asleep.

"Hey, Peter," Neal said when Peter picked up the phone. It was three weeks after he woke up in the hospital. He was home. He no longer had to wear a brace on his knee like he did when he first got out. His arm was still in a cast and sling, and there was gauze around his ribcage, stabilizing his broken and fractured ribs. "Are you busy today?"

"No, why?" Peter replied. It was Saturday, and he was at home with his wife, enjoying the day.

"Well, Jessica has a soccer game today, and I promised I'd be there, but the field is outside my radius. Diana was going to take me, but she called and said she was sick, and Jones is at a wedding, so he can't take me either, so…" Neal trailed off. He didn't have to finish the sentence.

Peter paused and covered the phone's microphone with his hand. "You feel like going to a little girl's soccer game?" He asked Elizabeth.

"Whose? Jessica's?" She asked. She smiled when Peter nodded. "Sure! Sounds like fun," she agreed enthusiastically. Their dog, a big yellow lab named Satchmo, barked his approval as well.

Peter removed his hand from the microphone with a sigh. "Sure, Neal. We'll take you to the game," he said.

"Thank you, Peter. I owe you one," Neal said with a smile and a sigh of relief.

"Oh you owe me way more than that," Peter said.

"Ok, then I owe you one more," Neal rolled his eyes.

Peter chuckled. "We'll pick you up in half an hour," he said, standing up.

"Great, see you then. Bye."

"Bye," Peter said, and hung up.

Neal sat in the bleachers next to Peter, Elizabeth, and Rebecca, watching and cheering as Jessica stole the ball and sprinted down the field, effortlessly bypassing the other team's defense, and kicking in a goal. Satchmo lay on the grass beside them, panting in the hot sun.

Movement to his right caught Neal's eye, and he turned to see who it was. When he did, he saw, to his surprise and dread, Mason standing in the shade of a tree, watching him. Neal's heart skipped a beat or two. Instinct told him not to tell Peter. His partner was off-duty and didn't have his gun, and the protection detail had been called off because it was expensive and they "didn't have the man power" to keep it up. And what if Mason had a gun? He couldn't take that chance.

"Hey, I'll be right back, ok, guys?" Neal said, standing up. As he did, Mason ducked out of sight behind the tree.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked.

"I said I'll be right back, Peter," Neal said, stepping off the bleachers and heading towards the tree. Peter watched him for a while, then turned his attention back to the game.

Neal walked around the tree and faced the man who had tried to, and almost succeeded at, killing him and his daughter.

"Neal, it's good to see you! You look well," Mason said with his usual sarcastic and mildly threatening cheerfulness.

"What do you want, Mason?" Neal asked, his voice calm and even, despite his racing heart rate.

"Same thing I wanted before, Neal. I want you to feel what I felt when you killed my sister," Mason replied.

"Peter will catch you, you know. You're going to prison," Neal growled.

"I'm sure that's true," Mason agreed. "Agent Burke seems like a very competent agent. But the question is, will he catch me before or after I finally make you pay for what you did?"

Neal fell silent, and Mason smiled. "I'll see you around, Neal," he said. He turned and walked off, quickly melting into a crowd of people on another field.

Neal watched him go, his jaw clenched. After a moment, he turned and walked back over to the others.

"What was that about?" Peter asked, looking at him with a scrutinizing gaze.

Neal winced as he sat down, his ribs aching. "One of Mozzie's leads on Mason," he lied smoothly.

"And?" Peter asked, his eyes now curious.

"Nothing. Dead end," Neal sighed. The group fell silent, then let out a loud cheer as Jessica's team scored another goal…

Elizabeth crawled into bed. It was around midnight, and she and Peter were both tired. Peter was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. It was then that she noticed the picture.

On the shelf above the dresser, where there used to be a picture of her and Peter on their honeymoon, there was now a picture of a teenage girl. She had long, thick light brown hair and sparkling green eyes. She looked happy, smiling at the camera. El got out of bed and went to pick up the picture.

"Peter?" she called, grabbing the picture from the shelf and examining it in her hands.

"Yeah?" Peter replied with a yawn as he came back into the room.

El showed him the picture. "Who's this?" she asked.

Peter looked puzzled. "I have no idea," he said, stepping forward and taking the photo as El handed it to him. He stared at it for a moment, then turned the frame over and took off the back, popping the picture out into his hand. He found a newspaper article taped to the back of it. Carefully, he took it off and read the headline:

Three Teenagers Die in Tragic Car Accident

The picture that accompanied the article showed the wreckage of a small car, flipped over and slammed into a tree. Peter instantly recalled what Neal had told him, that Mason hated him because his sister died in a car wreck when Neal was driving. He later told him that two other friends of theirs died in the crash as well. A quick scan of the article confirmed it, noticing Kara Thomas's name listed among the ones who died. He looked at the back of the photo and found something written on it. He turned on a lamp to read it better.

In the upper left hand corner, someone had written Kara, 16 yrs.,and below that was a message:

This Is Far From Over. –M

The handwriting told him it was two different people.

Peter's heart skipped a beat as he turned the photo right-side up. Mason had been in his house. What if El had been home? He didn't want to think about what could have happened. Peter and El exchanged glances, then returned their shocked gazes back to the photo. It was about a minute before the shock wore off and Peter picked up his phone and called Hughes…