Chapter 9
The door behind Lisa swung open. White mist and globs of something spurt out, spreading quickly and forming a distraction.
Sarah used the distraction, firing on their assailants. The men grunted as they went down with bullets in legs and shoulders. What followed was a round of tranq, fired by Chuck, sending them all into dreamland.
Meanwhile, Casey had punched out Lisa, who had been knocked forward by something ramming into her from behind.
The smoke cleared and Peter's brain finally caught up to the situation. They were okay.
"Oh thank goodness," he said, letting go of a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
"Peter?" a familiar, but confused, voice said. Neal stood before them, white shirt ruffled, shoes gone and a fire extinguisher in his hands. His hair was a mussed mess and his face a little more slim and hollow than Peter remembered it. There also seemed to be patches of blood in his clothes.
Three names were said in response to Neal's arrival. One of Peter's 'Neal'. One was Chuck and Sarah's 'Bryce!' and one was Casey's mutter of 'Larkin'.
Neal's eyes went wide as arms wrapped around him and squeezed tight. The fire extinguisher clanged as it hit the ground.
Peter was slightly amused that Chuck had beaten him to hugging his friend. Although, he had a lot of questions, starting with 'Bryce'.
"Hi, Chuck," Neal said nervously, giving his long lost friend an awkward pat on the back. "How have you been, buddy?"
"Good, good. Still at the Buy More, although I own it now," Chuck said quickly, "but, let's talk about you, how are you alive?"
"It's complicated. Are you actually Chuck?"
Chuck said a sentence in a language Peter hadn't heard before. Neal laughed and responded in kind. Then Chuck said something else, pointing at the ring on his finger.
Neal's mouth dropped open and he grabbed Chuck's hand for a better look.
"Now way," he said. He turned to Sarah. "It's not a cover, is it?"
"No," Sarah responded with a small smile. She held up her own ring. "I consider Sarah Bartowski to be my name now."
"When she's not using the Carmichael name," Chuck said proudly.
"Awesome," Neal said with a grin. "You've certainly made a name for yourself!"
"What about you?" Chuck asked. "Suave confidence man? Able to steal anything if you put your mind to it?"
"Larkin in a nutshell," Casey grunted, thinking of the Intersect. He fiddled with his gun, which Neal eyed with suspicion.
"I'm not that great. I'm supposed to be on an anklet with a two mile radius."
"You have friends willing to fly across the country, twice, in order to help you," Sarah pointed out.
Neal turned to Peter, frowning a little. "How do you know Chuck and Sarah anyway?"
"I didn't. It was Mozzie."
"Moz? Moz is here?" Neal looked around.
"He's in the van," Sarah said.
Neal gave her a flat look. Because even he knew that anything could have happened by now. "Let's leave then. Make sure that van is still standing."
"What about the device?" Chuck asked. "Shouldn't we get it back?"
"Gertrude can take care of it." Neal shrugged.
"Gertrude's here?" Casey said, taking interest in this conversation for the first time. Neal frowned but nodded. "Downstairs?"
"Maybe. She used me as bait."
"Ah, the magnet."
"What's up with Casey?" Neal whispered to Chuck. Casey sounded almost, happy. Like when he nailed a perfect shot.
"He and Verbanski are dating," Chuck whispered back.
Neal's eyebrows rose. "Well, I am a bit of a romantic."
Peter snorted. "Understatement."
"Thanks, Peter," Neal quipped as he pulled out the device and tossed it to Casey. "Go get her. Try not to die though."
Casey nodded and went through the door to the basement.
"Should we back him up?" Sarah asked.
"I'm sure he can handle it. I didn't see anyone down there when I came up."
As they walked back, Neal hung back. Peter glanced back and then slowed his own pace to walk side-by-side with his ex-CI.
"I'm guessing you found out about my side-job?" Neal said.
"You mean Bryce Larkin? Oh yeah," Peter responded. "I can't believe you let Mozzie call me 'Suit' when you're more Fed than I'll ever be."
It took a moment for that to sink in but, when it did, Neal laughed. Peter didn't seem upset at all!
"You're not mad that I basically lied to you for years?"
"It's better than finding another Steve Tabernacle or Gary Rydell. This ID comes with a badge and awkward reunions with old friends. I don't think I've ever seen you so tense when interacting with someone."
"Chuck and I have a lot of history. There's some bad history there too, mostly because of me."
"Looks like he forgives you."
Neal wondered about that. The hug seemed to suggest that Chuck might be over how Bryce messed in his life but at the same time, he could just be glad that Bryce hadn't died. Chuck wouldn't wish death to his worst enemy.
They approached the van. It was still standing and looked unharmed. Except all the doors were locked.
"What's the password?" Mozzie called out from behind the back doors. Sarah pulled at the latch again and the door barely budged.
"At least we got our money worth in this rental," Chuck announced.
Neal snorted and rapped on the door. Tap, tap, tap-tap-tap. "Come on, Moz. It's been a long day."
"Neal?"
The doors opened and Sarah immediately jumped up inside the van with a warning to the little guy to not do that again, ever. Neal smiled at his friend; who he considered a brother.
"Just so you know," he said, hoping to head off the 'evil Fed' speech Mozzie had no doubt prepared, "when I die, all my spy stuff is given to you."
"Really?" Mozzie questioned in interest. "Anything in there which will confirm a couple of conspiracy theories I have going?"
Neal nodded and Mozzie rubbed his hands together in earnest. Although, he did warn Neal to not die anytime soon.
Neal treated his wounds at his apartment. It wasn't big enough for everyone to stay so, after much discussion, Chuck and his team went back to their hotel and Mozzie went to wherever Mozzie went.
"Beer?" Peter asked, pulling one out of the fridge.
"Peter, just because you know I'm a Fed, doesn't mean I suddenly prefer beer over wine." Peter pulled a bottle of wine out of his bag.
"How did they let you fly with those?"
"I bought them here, Neal." Peter put them on the kitchen counter. "Let's talk."
"About?"
"Why you felt the need to come here to DC."
Neal sighed. He thought he had gotten out of any such talk when Peter hadn't brought it up in the first five minutes.
"Kramer made a deal with the CIA. He lets me off anklet to do missions and I solve cases for his team during my downtime. It's nothing special."
Peter took a swing of his beer, waiting to see if Neal would add anything to that.
"And you agreed, why?"
"It's good for my career," Neal responded. "In New York, I was pretty much frozen, useless for missions-"
"Neal. Since when do you care about your 'career'?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow and a little anger in his voice. Surely he hadn't misjudged the young ex-con that much? "Because you care more about keeping people safe than you do about what higher ups think."
Neal smiled into his glass before pouring another half-glass of wine. "I really wish you weren't as good at your job as you are."
"Because I'm always right."
"Unless El is in the conversation."
"Unless El is in the conversation," Peter agreed. "Or the conversation involves art or forgery, in which case, you're the one who is usually right."
"Stick to your mortgage fraud and fake Prada handbags, I'll solve the big cases."
They laughed.
"Come back to New York," Peter said. "If you can't convince whoever you need to convince, then I'm sure Chuck can help you. After all, it's what his team was hired to do."
"I kind of wish Mozzie hadn't done that," Neal said quietly, lowering his gaze.
"Why don't you want to come back? Everyone's waiting for you. Your desk has been left untouched. Mostly untouched."
"Mostly?"
"Diana might have 'borrowed' your Socrates bust. It's sitting on her desk. She says she'll return it when you return." Neal was silent and Peter could hear the unspoken 'no' to returning. "At least tell me why."
And they were back to why. Neal knew that Peter wouldn't give up until he gave some kind of answer.
