A/N. Will they manage to set Peter free...

Not beta'd for English, please forgive me for any language error. I'm still French...


NY, Finch's library, Friday 6:00 am

John woke up with a grunt. His whole body ached. He turned to get up and looked at the couch in surprise. He couldn't remember getting there. In any case, spending the night lying down instead of sitting could only have been beneficial, even if for the moment every single muscle was complaining.

He went to the main room where he knew Finch would be sitting. Didn't that man ever sleep?

Finch frowned when he heard his heavy step.

"Mr. Reese, how are you feeling?"

Reese mused for a second, then decided not to answer that particular question. First he didn't want to worry Finch more than he was already, second he didn't want to hear him telling him to go home and rest. A shower, a coffee, a Donut… and he would be fine.

He went to their kitchen area and blessed Finch for making coffee even though he didn't drink any. He also helped himself to painkillers; one of the numerous advantages at having Finch around, the pharmacy was always well stocked.

"What's the situation Finch?" he asked coming back to the room, a coffee in one hand, munching on a muffin.

Harold's lips went tight, showing his displeasure but knowing that the ex-agent wouldn't accept his compassion.

"Mr. Caffrey went back home with Miss Ellis. Mr. Mozzie was quite happy to be allowed to leave the library." Reese opened his mouth but Finch answered the question before he had a chance to talk, "Miss Shaw volunteered to keep an eye on the apartment in case Keller had had a back-up plan."

Reese nodded and gulped some coffee.

"The good news is that I have finally located Mr. Bennett. He is in Atlantic City."

"Hidden in plain sight… interesting." Reese swallowed the last of his muffin, washed it down with the coffee. "I'll go get him. Let me grab a shower and I'm gone."

"Mr. Reese, I have a helicopter ready and obtained an authorization to use the casino's landing pad."

"Your efficiency is a source of perpetual wonder, Finch."

"I haven't managed to get a pilot, but I assumed you wouldn't mind the 127 miles."

"On the contrary, it will be nice to fly again."

He went to their bathroom after taking some clothes from the stock he kept at the library. He checked himself in the mirror. He looked downright scary. He noticed the bandage on his arm had been changed; Caffrey probably. His back was crisscrossed with cuts, which painfully reminded their presence when the water hit them. He didn't have time to take care of that for now. Dressing quickly, he was glad to put on the suit that had turned into his job uniform.

He quickly rubbed Bear's ears and left towards the heliport. A new day was starting.


PoI – WC – PoI – WC – PoI


New York, 34th street heliport, Friday 7:30 am

As usual, Finch had taken care of everything. When Reese arrived at the heliport, he only needed to run the last security checks and he lifted up.

As soon as he was out of the city, he called Finch, who responded immediately.

"Mr. Reese, is everything all right?"

"Yes. Thank you for this baby, Finch. A real beauty. I hadn't realized you knew that much about flying machines."

"I can fly, Mr. Reese," Finch reminded him as if it explained it all.

"Finch, I need information on Bennett. Tell me what you found out; I cannot read and pilot at the same time."

When he arrived to Atlantic City, John knew enough about James Bennett to thoroughly hate the man. He was going to take him back to New York, willingly or not.

He landed on the helipad of the Golden Nugget Atlantic City, a huge casino spread over almost 15 acres. Finding Bennett wasn't going to be easy. But if Finch had been able to find him in a whole country, he could hardly complain at having to search a casino.

He made sure he could leave whenever he was ready and went inside the casino. The noise of the machines greeted him from the door. Whatever the place, casinos had all the same metallic sound. He strolled between the machines, as an anonymous guest.

It was still early. Only some die hard players or those betting their last coins before leaving were present. He didn't think Bennett would be around.

He touched his earwig.

"Finch, do you have Bennett's room number?"

"Give me a second, please." He heard the familiar clicking under Finch's fingers. "1241, Mr. Reese, in the west wing. Any idea on your action plan?"

"It's breakfast time, Finch," Reese answered a bit enigmatically.

Getting a jacket and apron was piece of cake. They really ought to check their security measures, Reese thought. He pushed the cart towards the room and knocked on the door.

"Just a second!" a voice answered.

John pulled his gun and covered it with a napkin on his forearm.

"Room service," Reese announced.

Bennett opened the door. "I didn't order anything."

"On the house," Reese explained as he pushed the cart against James.

Bennett stumbled but didn't fall and pushed the cart right back. Surprised by the swiftness of the reaction, John lost his gun. He pushed the cart away and jumped on Bennett. They started fighting, moving around the room, using any furniture as weapon or protection. Bennett knew how to fight, he'd give him that, but Reese was younger and had a past in the Special Forces. Not caring to soften his punches, which he knew could be deadly, he managed to push Bennett against a wall and knocked him out.

John tied the man to a chair then took a second to get his breath back. His body was still recovering from the ordeal of the previous day. He looked down to his waist. He had felt it when Bennett had hit him in the stomach, now he could see it. His wound was bleeding again. One of the drawbacks of the white shirts he favored, they betrayed the slightest scratch.

He went to the bathroom, came back with a wet towel and wrung it above Bennett's head. He came to coughing.

John sat in front of him, putting his gun by his side.

"I don't have any money," Bennett informed him.

"Highly doubtful, but that's not the point."

James frowned. "Who are you?"

And again…

"Mr. Bennett, I'm here to help you make a good action."

"You don't really look like the Salvation Army."

"You are right, I have been trained by another kind of army," Reese calmly explained as he slowly retrieved a knife hidden against his shin; he put it beside the gun.

Bennett paled, realizing the cold attitude of his visitor. The man was a killer. He had seen enough of them in his past to recognize them easily.

"Senator Pratt."

Bennett's face didn't flinch.

So, that's where Caffrey got his talent from.

"Yes?"

Reese slowly shook his head. "Mr. Bennett…" he said disappointed. "You know I know, don't make things complicated."

He put his arm in his pocket and withdrew a silencer that he slowly attached to his Sig Sauer.

Bennett fought the bile in his throat.

"James… I can call you James, right? For the past thirty years, you have been leading a nice quiet life instead of rotting in a prison as you deserve. Time for payback has come."

"I benefited from the witness protection program because I helped arresting the Flynn family!"

"No. You were protected by Pratt who knew everything about you. And to make sure, he would keep his secret, you killed him."

"You cannot prove anything."

"About Pratt's murder? No, you are right. Which is why I am asking that you come forward and testify.

"Certainly not!"

"Mr. Bennett…" Reese sighed. He took the towel and started to wrung it tightly.

A wet towel could be quite a painful torture weapon. And from the fear that crossed Bennett's eyes, he knew it too. Reese hoped he would not need to go that far. The most effective pain was the one the prisoner imagined in his own mind. At that game, John had hours of experience.

"Thirty years ago, you left, leaving behind you a little boy who admired you more than anything else in the world. Because of you, he abandonned his house, forgot his name, lost his mom. Yet, he still admired you. Did you know he wanted to be a police officer like you? That he had been told you had died a hero?"

Bennett's face was as cold as marble. He didn't feel any remorse; his only regret with time had been not being able to see his son.

"Then, the little boy became an adult. And one day, he learned the truth. Can you imagine that? Dead hero one day, crooked cop –alive– the next one. That's a heavy truth to shoulder, even when you're not a little boy anymore."

John opened his jacket and removed two zip-ties. Bennett opened his eyes wide. His hands were bound behind his back, as well as his legs, what did the man need these for?

"And when finally, he made himself a new life, found a family, you reappear out of nowhere and destroy it all again. Do you have any excuse?"

Reese leaned forward and raised his voice, "do you really think your miserable little life justifies any of that?"

Bennett jumped. The man had talked in a low soft voice so far, the change of tone was downright frightening. If his calm gestures matched his voice, nothing good was about to happen.

"Mr. Bennett, as you've probably guessed by now, killing you won't be a problem. The question is now to determine if you think you've enjoyed your life enough that ending it here, today, in Atlantic City, is okay with you, or if you'd like to still enjoy some nice days, albeit with less freedom."

Reese rose and took his knife in one hand, the towel in the other one. He stood behind Bennett. He rolled the towel around Bennett's neck who reacted at the humidity. John started turning around the chair as a huge predator observing his prey before jumping. He took a napkin from the table and threw it in the air. As it came back down floating, John sliced it in two. Bennett moved back against his chair.

Having made his point about just how sharp the knife was, John kept his slow encircling crawl, then stopped behind the chair. In a swift movement, he cut the top of Bennett's jacket. James couldn't help a scream. John took a look at the brand.

"Armani… My employer might be upset at me for ruining such a nice piece. It's a good thing I'm not attached to my suits value." He bent to whisper on Bennett's ear, as if telling a secret, "as long as they fit."

Bennett shuddered. That man was mad. He had encountered dangerous men inside the Irish mob, but this stranger was made of ice. He wouldn't think twice before cutting him to pieces. But he hadn't been hiding for thirty years to give up now.

Reese stopped by his side and bent his head. "I see you haven't shaved yet…"

He brought the knife close to the cheek.

"I can pay you; double the contract!" James exclaimed.

"And here I thought you didn't have money…"

"Not with me, but I can transfer the money to any account you say."

"Why do you think you could buy me?"

"I never thought Neal would hire a mercenary, but I guess I do not know him that well."

"You really do not deserve him, you know? Can't believe a lowlife like you gave birth to a man like him. I guess getting him out of your way has only been beneficial."

"Triple…" Bennett promised.

"You really don't get it, do you, James? I guess I'll have to be more convincing."

In a few swift moves, Reese cut James jacket around his body. Bennett wriggled trying to get his hands free.

John shook his head clearly disappointed, then cut the buttons of the shirt one by one with his blade. He then opened it. The man wasn't wearing anything underneath.

"I see you've been enjoying the beach, nice tan…" John murmured as he slowly traced the skin with the knife.

James pushed against the back of the chair, but the pressure of the blade didn't lessen. John pushed harder and Bennett pushed back again, his ribs hurting against the chair. He swallowed hard. He couldn't move any further back and the blade kept pushing.

He let out a whimper, more of fright than pain, when he felt the skin breach under the knife, warm blood flowing on his skin.

"I already killed three men yesterday evening, and I'm not counting the ones in London earlier. You see, Mr. Bennett, my week has been quite busy. I really want to go home. Now, the only question is if I'll have a passenger."

Reese raised an eyebrow. "You're the only one who has the answer."

He pushed the knife stronger.

"Stop!" Bennett yelled. "All right, I'll testify. I killed Pratt, that's all he deserved.

"Good decision."

Reese shot him a dark stare, picked up his gun and cut the ties. "Don't even think about doing anything, Mr. Bennett."

Standing behind James, his gun against the man's back, Reese used the service elevator to leave the hotel and reach the helicopter. He zip tied his hands and feet, then sat on the pilot chair.

"I'm afraid I don't have earphones for you. Cover your ears if the noise bothers you."

He started the chopper and flew back to New York. He called Finch on the way.

"I have him, Finch. Call Carter. She needs to make a delivery at the courthouse."

"All right, Mr. Reese. I gather Mr. Bennett is willing to testify."

"It took some convincing, but we reached an agreement."

Finch didn't dare think what the convincing technique had been. He knew his employee's past, the less he knew about the details, the better he'd sleep.


PoI – WC – PoI – WC – PoI


New York, Courthouse, Friday 10:30 am

Diana was watching the courtroom; everybody had arrived now. Peter's lawyer was reading again and again the documents in front of her. To her defense, she had had very little time to consult them.

Diana's day had started quite early. At 6:00 am, a messenger had brought her a thick brown envelope. As soon as she had opened it, she had realized there were several elements there that could help Peter; nothing to clear him but enough evidence to undermine the prosecution.

She had rushed to the office, calling Jones to hurry up to meet her. Together, they had checked the documents. She didn't know which detective agency had worked on the file, or who had hired them, but all the elements were solid.

With little time to act, she had called Peter's lawyer, asking her to meet them at the café close to the FBI building. She didn't want Calloway to suspect anything. The lawyer had been overwhelmed by the evidence and for the first time started to feel some kind of hope.

Diana squinted her eyes, watching Caffrey. He seemed a little bit more relaxed than the previous days. His behaviour had been even more suspicious than usual. She knew he was worried for Peter, but she suspected there was something else. Yesterday, he had looked like he was carrying the whole world's misery upon his shoulders; she had kept a close watch on him all morning. Then, he had received a call that had seemed to relieve him. He had vanished in the men's room for a while, then had come back to his desk calmer, as sobered. And he had finally started working, for real this time. Caffrey and his neverending mysteries… He was bound to give them all ulcers.

For the moment, he was talking to Elizabeth, trying to cheer her up. Peter's wife didn't know about the last elements; Diana didn't want to give her false hopes.

Caffrey knew all about it, and Diana be damned if she managed to know how. She suspected he had conducted his own research. Yet, the only answer he gave her, after having been thoroughly interrogated, was to trust the people who had sent the information. He had even added, with pleading eyes, "please".

The Judge came in; Diana focused back on the case.


The prosecution had just finished interrogating the first witness, the expert from forensics. His testimony was agrieving, but they knew that and Peter's lawyer couldn't refute any part of it.

They would base their whole defense on agent Calloway's testimony and cross-examination. The DA had just finished interviewing the agent, charging Peter even more. Diana could see Elizabeth's face crumbling down, apparently loosing any hope she still had. Peter's lawyer rose, sure of herself, a slight smile on her lips.

"Agent Calloway, could you please let us know the provenance of the funds you received on July 25th 2012? $25,000, if I am not mistaken." She asked, not bothering with any preamble.

Agent Calloway seemed to lose some of her countenance.

"That question is totally irrelevant! We are not judging agent Calloway," the DA protested.

Turning to the Judge, the lawyer explained. "Your Honor, if you allow the witness to answer this question, you will realize its importance and relevance for my client."

The Judge seemed to hesitate a moment. Then his eyes caught sight of the man that had just entered the courtroom. He realized that after having helped him free his son, John was now helping the FBI agent. He made his decision.

"Agent Calloway, please answer the question."

The District Attorney was furious. "Your Honor, it looks like you don't want to send a criminal to prision, you─"

"Easy, or I'll have you charged for contempt of court. Mr. Dennis, watch your words!" The Judge exclaimed. He turned to Peter's lawyer. "Let's proceed."

The lawyer, satisfied by the squirmish, turned to the witness again.

"Agent Calloway, please answer the question."

"I don't recall," the witness mumbled.

"May I remind you that you are under oath?"

Forced to answer, agent Calloway sighed. "The money was given to me by Senator Pratt in payment of services."

"So you admit that you knew the Senator and that he gave you a large amount of money."

"That is totally irrelevant for the present case," the DA insisted, not liking where the cross-examination was leading. Where did they that information come from?

"Please proceed, I want to see what your point is, attorney," the Judge replied.

The courtroom door opened suddenly. A heavy murmur went through the room. On the defense side, a wave of relief rippled.

The police officer who had just entered the room was leading James Bennett.

"Silence! Silence!" the Judge called, using his hammer on the table.

"Officer! Please identify yourself and would you care to explain why you interrupted a court in process?"

"Officer Carter, NYPD, your Honor, please forgive my intrusion. This man has just been arrested in South Manhattan; he corresponds to a wanted poster issued by the FBI. I remembered it was linked to the case you are judging today. This man is James Bennett; he is suspected of having been present on the crime scene on the day of Senator Pratt's murder. I thought it wise to bring him immediately."

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness then, officer," the Judge answered.

He turned to the Defense attorney. "It looks like your key witness has made an appearance. Do you have any statement to make Mr. Bennett?"

Keeping his eyes on his son, James talked, clearly unwillingly, "I killed Senator Pratt, agent Burke is innocent."

The audience went wild. The Defense seemed to breathe again and a shy smile appeared on Elizabeth Burke's face.

"Silence, please!" The Judge used his hammer again, violently, to hush the courtroom.

He made a sign to the agents in the room.

"Officers, please arrest Mr. James Bennett. Mrs Wilder, Mr. Dennis, please follow me in my office. The session is suspended."

The people in the room waited anxiously for the return of the Judge and attorneys; the whispers creating quite a noise in the courtroom.

Taking advantage of the confusion, agent Calloway slipped away from the room. No one had seen the tall dark man disappear with a small satisfied smile on his lips.


PoI – WC – PoI – WC – PoI


NY Courthouse, Friday, 2:00 pm

Neal was sitting on a step, arms crossed on his knees, head resting on his hands, trying to get his breath back. The wave of relief that had overwhelmed him had been so strong, he had felt dizzy.

A few minutes earlier, the judge's hammer had fallen, announcing Peter's innocence on all charges.

The wave of joy that had engulfed the courthouse had been like a giant tide wave. Elizabeth had run to Peter's arms to kiss him. Jones, Diana, Hughes had come to pat him in the back and congratulate him. Neal had felt like everyone present had run to Peter and he had been cast aside. He had crossed Peter's eyes, a bit overwhelmed himself by the crowd, and made a nod with his head indicating he would see him outside.

Then he had looked for a quiet place where to sit before his shaking legs gave out. He had found a stone stairwell on the side and had let himself drop on it.

Sara was safe at his place; his father was finally behind bars and Peter was free. Everything was back where it belonged. It felt like he had been caught in a tornado, then thrown to the ground.

A soft hand touched his shoulder. "You're okay, Neal?"

He'd remember that low voice for the rest of his life. John, the man to whom he owed it all. How did you thank the man that gave you your life back? He raised his head and looked at him with a serious face.

"Thank you."

Reese raised a corner of a lip, dismissing the thanks, as if he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary.

John looked exhausted, but after everything he had been through, it wasn't that surprising.

"How are you?" Neal asked. As Reese raised a surprised eyebrow, Neal gesture to his body, "your wounds?"

"I've been through worse, I'll be fine," the ex-agent answered.

"I don't doubt that," Neal whispered. "How can I ever thank you, John?"

Peter arrived at that moment with his mobile phone in hand. "So, this is where you're hiding," he exclaimed.

"I can't believe you used my anklet to find me!" Neal laughed. "I see that a few days in jail didn't change your habits."

He rose in a jump and hugged Peter. The agent hugged him back.

"We really should stop doing this," Peter said with a mock reproachful tone.

"What? Hugging?" Neal didn't have any qualms at showing his affection.

"No… scaring each other!"

Neal laughed out loud. "Your fault. If you hadn't decided to make my file a personal case eight years ago, we wouldn't be here."

John was watching them with a slight smile. The friendship between these two men was obvious. On some levels, it even looked stronger than the one between Neal and Mozzie. How could a former conman be closer to a cop than an associate?

Peter seemed to notice the tall man standing by his CI. He frowned; this man didn't look like Neal's usual contacts.

"You made some new friends while I was away?"

Neal stepped to the side to introduce the men. "Peter, this is John."

The stranger and Neal exchanged a glance with so much hidden meaning that Peter almost sighed. Two minutes out of jail, and Caffrey was already hiding something.

"Neal, what are you up to again?" the agent groused.

Caffrey answered with such an innocent stare that Reese couldn't help a smile. He was incredible; no doubt about it, as agent Burke had said, he was the best.

But Peter knew better than trust Neal's innocent looks and kept watching him until the man relented.

"John helped us with your case file."

"A bounty hunter? You're the one who found James?"

"Not exactly. But he did bring my father back… and Sara," Neal distractedly added, before opening his eyes wide realizing his misstep.

Peter didn't know about Sara and Neal hadn't decided yet if he was going to tell him about that part of the events. He might wonder why Sara was at Neal's place, but he absolutely didn't intend to talk about the treasure. That secret was still a heavy weight above them, no way he was letting Peter know.

"Sara?" Peter asked surprised. "Sara is in New York?"

Peter looked at Neal more closely. There were dark circles under his eyes, his body was weighted with tiredness. When his CI had come to visit him at the prison, he was tense and worried, but the way he looked now proved he had been through painful moments.

"Neal, what happened?"

"Long story…."

"And the short version?"

Neal sighed closing his eyes. "Keller," he said.

Seeing that Neal didn't seem more forthcoming, Peter had a smile, "and the slightly less abridged version?"

Neal reopened his eyes. He knew Peter wouldn't relent.

"Keller kidnapped Sara to blackmail me."

"What did he want?"

"It's complicated…"

"Your way of telling me I don't want to know?"

Neal winced and Peter shook his head. He'd let this one go; he knew hunting for Neal's secrets was never a good idea.

John was watching them in silence. The friendship between the agent and his informant was way beyond the usual relationship in this kind of partnership. No wonder the agent had sometimes stepped over the line. He doubted his relationship with Finch was anything close, though he truly liked his employer, more than any of his previous superiors, army included.

"John managed to save Sara, and…" Neal let his eyes wander, "Keller will not be a problem anymore."

Peter paled, and John thought it wise to add his own comment. "You shouldn't hear about him any time soon."

"Who are you?" Peter asked watching him closely, eyes squinting.

Neal couldn't help a little laugh and whispered to John, "Bet you hear that one a lot…"

John wiggled his eyebrows in connivance.

"Let's say I took care of your CI while you were… unavailable."

"Must have had your hands full…" Peter commented with sarcasm.

"It is indeed a full time job."

"On the other hand, he can be quite grateful," Peter joked. Reese raised a questioning eyebrow and the agent explained himself. "Neal never missed any of my birthdays. I have cards from all over the world, Champagne during stake outs…"

Neal moved his head from one man to the other dumbfounded. They barely knew each other, yet here they were clearly laughing at him.

"I've been meaning to ask you something. Did he leave a visit card after his robberies?" John asked.

Neal opened his mouth to complain, but Peter beat him to it.

"No, no visit card. He did sign his forgeries though, a slightly more modern version of the practice."

"It has only been proved on the bonds!" Neal defended himself. "And I was the one to tell you to look!"

Peter waved his hand in dismissal. "Yeah, yeah, we know. You have only been convicted once…"

The two men stared at each other in silence. Peter would carry on accusing him of all sorts of crimes and Neal would go on pleading his innocence; it had become some sort of game.

The agent decided to change the conversation.

"How is Sara doing?"

The loving expression that covered Neal's face went straight to John's heart. He would go back to London immediately to save her again; such a love had to be preserved.

"Better. She is a fighter," Neal whispered with a soft smile.

"So, you'll be taking her to the Empire State Building again?" Peter joked.

"Not without a safety harness!" Neal laughed.

Reese frowned trying to make sense of the exchange. Then he remembered Neal telling him they had launched the zeppelin from the 103rd floor. The access was restricted, but John had assumed that Neal had managed to dodge the security. The conversation between the two men reminded him who also was granted access to the tiny terrace.

"Wait a minute. You made a fake proposal to your ex-girlfriend?" Reese asked dumbfounded. That man was mad or unconscious… but it did reveal a lot about Sara too.

"Sara understood the situation," Neal explained.

"Still, accepting to go through that kind of scene… Only a very exceptional or very in love woman would do it."

A bright smile illuminated Neal's face. "Both, I'm hoping…"

"I'll go with you ring shopping," Peter informed him.

"What?" Neal spit back.

"Neal, I'm not letting you in a jewel store without a chaperon!"

Neal sent a pleading look to Reese, calling for help. The ex-agent only smiled.

"I guess everything is back to normal for you Neal." He extended his hand. "Take care of yourself. And congratulations!" He shook Peter's hand. "Agent Peter, it has been a pleasure."

He went down the steps and disappeared in the crowd.

Peter opened his mouth to ask for explanations on the stranger, then decided against it. With time, he had come to some sort of compromise about Neal's secrets. Digging too deep was never a good idea.

The two men went to the cars where Elizabeth, Jones and Diana were waiting. Peter was going back home with Elizabeth, while Jones and Diana were going back to the office.

"Neal, you need a lift?"

"Peter, if that's okay with you, I'd like to go home. I need to process all this." He pointed to his ankle. "You know where to find me."

The agents nodded. They could perfectly understand that Neal needed some time alone. Bennett's unexpected arrival had been like an explosion inside the courthouse. Everyone had been quite shaken up.


PoI – WC – PoI – WC – PoI


With a relieved smile on his lips, Neal was walking home, enjoying, for real this time, the streets of New York. Suddenly he felt a hard shove on his back.

"Get to the alley, Caffrey, don't resist," a voice he recognize easily ordered him.

Calloway. And from her tone, she didn't just want to have a friendly conversation.

Neal walked slowly towards a narrow street between two buildings. They were hidden from view by huge trash containers. So John's source was actually right. He was indeed in danger. Too bad, the real threat appeared when both him and Shaw were not around anymore.

John had left after wishing him luck; as for Shaw she had probably been relieved of her baby-sitting duties. He couldn't believe he had escaped Keller and a night shoot out, to die between garbage cans in the middle of the day.

The only solace was that the people he cared for were safe. Come to think of it, the precautions he had taken before going to the meeting with Keller would prove useful.

Feeling strangely calm despite the situation, he turned to his superior.

"Agent Calloway. I would have thought you were already leaving the country…"

"Shut up, Caffrey," she answered dryly. "You think you can get away with it? Your family destroyed mine! First your father's partner relentlessness forced my father to commit suicide when he realized there was evidence against him. I lost my father and my mother whithered away after his death. Then Senator Pratt got me into this to stop agent Burke's investigation…"

"You could have said no to Pratt the very first time," Neal cut her. "Unless… he had leverage of course…"

Neal saw Calloway's face pale. He was right.

"A youngster mistake with a married senator, which of course he held against me," she answered with a scowl.

She was on a roll, she went on with her complaints. "Then you undermine my testimony at the courthouse to save your friend, ruining my career in the process. And to top it all your father comes forward to give his own version of the facts."

"That's not my doing. I didn't bring my father in. The police officer only did his duty by arresting him and bringing him to the Judge."

"Today! Come on Caffrey, I'm no fool. You had it all prepared beforehand!"

"You're incoherent Calloway. The only thing I see is that justice has prevailed. Peter Burke was innocent. You, your father, mine, Pratt, you're only paying for your wrong doings," Neal concluded.

Calloway gripped her gun tighter. Neal understood that she wasn't listening, nothing he could say would change her point of view. She was thirsty for revenge, and he was the ideal candidate.

Neal closed his eyes, ready to die. After the days he had gone through, ending his life shot by an FBI agent was almost ironic…

He heard a silenced shot, very close to him, then the thud of a body droping to the ground.

Opening his eyes, he saw his guardian angel by his side.

"Neal, you're a real trouble magnet!" John exclaimed putting his gun away.

"How… how did you know?" Neal stammered, dazed by the sudden appearance.

"When I parted with you and Peter, I didn't wander very far. Call it a hunch. I followed you when you left toward your place. You were so lost in your own thoughts you didn't notice you were being followed, by me of course, but also by agent Calloway. When she led you to this street, I waited to be sure of her intentions. When it was clear she had made her decision…" John shrugged. "I mean, I went all the way to London to bring back the woman of your life, I wasn't going to let her ruin everything."

"I really don't know how to thank you John. You saved Sara, Peter, me… twice. I'll owe you for the rest of my life." Neal went on, "John, if you ever need anything, anytime, I'll always be there."

"No problem, Neal. You don't owe me anything. Enjoy your life, be happy. Stay out of trouble, that will be more than enough."

They heard an engine approaching and a truck backed-up in the alley. Shaw came around and opened the back door.

"Another body, John? You're lapsing…" she said with a smile in her voice.

The tall man didn't bother with an answer and went to retrieve the corpse. Shaw left as quietly as she had arrived.

John turned to Neal. "I think you can go home now."

Neal nodded and went back on the main street. He turned around one last time to watch the man he owed so much. He probably would never see him again. He waved good bye and lost himself among the pedestrians.

TBC


N/A: Everything is back to normal in the White Collar world. Reese deserves some rest now, doesn't he?

Stay tuned…