NOTE: Sorry about the long wait. Was very busy with work and then had a house guest for a week, which was fun, but hard to just go off an write.

Chapter Ten

"Almost..."

Peter growled to himself as he continued to work at freeing himself from the handcuffs. His wrists were already bleeding heavily and his hope was that the blood would make his hands slick enough to pull through. They hadn't placed the cuffs on particularly tightly so he figured that he had a fairly good chance, plus he didn't have anything else productive to do with his time.

When the all too familiar chill returned to the air Peter yanked more desperately against the metal restraints. It wouldn't make any difference against the cold, but he didn't want to die with his hands bounds. At this point he was willing to break his hand in sacrifice of that goal. With one bone already cracked in his right hand from punching at the one way mirror Peter concentrated his efforts on that side. With a roar a pain and effort Peter tore his right wrist free.

Sitting up Peter cradled his injured wrist against his chest. He had torn a great deal of skin but had managed to escape without further injury to the bones. Pulling off his tie Peter wrapped it around his wrist and hand to help stop the bleeding. Tying it off he used his teeth to pull it tight. He didn't bother with the cuff dangling from his left wrist, that would just have to stay there for now.

Getting back to his knees to avoid the metal floor that was already starting to freeze Peter looked around the small space. He wasn't really expecting to see any new options for escape, but he was still disheartened when he didn't find one. Having fallen asleep earlier Peter wasn't sure how much time had passed but considering he was just starting to become thirsty he doubted that he'd been trapped more than eight to ten hours. Trying to decide what his next move should be Peter jolted slightly when the speaker that was in the corner behind the glass suddenly squawked to life with a cry of pain.

"Neal?" Peter asked concerned.

"Your boy isn't doing so well." Alice chuckled.

Peter's stomach turned as Neal continued to pant heavily in pain. Struggling to catch his breath Neal degraded into a violent dry heaving. Peter had no way of knowing that what he was listening to now was actually from earlier in the day after Neal's first forced run when he'd just been sick from the exertion and heat. Mixed in with the audio from when Neal had faked an injury it gave the impression that he was grievously injured.

"Neal..."

"He should have listened to you." Alice continued. "His last little job for me didn't go as planed."

"What did you do to him?" Peter demanded.

"I didn't do anything. He got himself shot. But, he's being a good sport about it, he's still willing to play to save you."

"Damn it, Neal, get to a hospital before you go into shock!" Peter ordered.

"He can't hear you. Even if he could it's clear that he's going to kill himself trying to find you anyway."

"Don't give him that choice, please, just tell the FBI where he is, they will go get him."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because Neal has nothing to do with what happened between us, Alistair."

"So you do remember me."

"Of course I remember you."

"You've become a lot more invested in your CIs lately, but you still haven't gotten any better at keeping them safe."

"I saved your life."

"You left me behind!"

"You ran away." Peter corrected. "We shouldn't have been in that situation in the first place. You were trying to use one side against the other and got caught. I am sorry for what happened, but if you had just trusted me..."

"Don't you dare!" Alistair snarled. "Don't you dare try to blame me, it was your job to protect me and you failed miserably!"

Peter didn't bother arguing further knowing that it would just incite Alistair further. It had been nearly ten years since the operation that had gone tragically wrong, but it was still fresh in Peter's memory. Alistair Price had been a money laundering middle man with dreams of climbing the organized crime ladder by first tearing down the competition. He had thought that he could use the FBI to do the heavy lifting by claiming to be on the inside of a racketeering circle that was cutting into his boss's business. Believing that he was dealing with someone that had in-depth insider knowledge Peter had agreed to going under cover with him.

By the time Peter realized that Alistair was making up most of what he was saying as he went along it was far too late. They were in the middle of the hornet's nest when their cover was blown. The FBI had been listening in and a massive raid ensued as soon as they knew their Agent was in trouble, but the enemy was well armed with far more men than the bad intel from Alistair had prepared them for. In the chaos that followed Peter still didn't know exactly how he'd managed to get out without getting caught in the cross fire.

Peter had tried to keep Alistair with him during the confusion of the raid, and he nearly succeeded. In the end however the terrified young CI had ran off in attempt to save his own skin. Alistair escaped the building and the FBI, but when his own boss learned that he had gone to the FBI he threw him back to the wolves and handed him directly over to the rival gang that he had tried to destroy. Not ones to take being ratted out lightly they tortured him for days before leaving him in a broken down warehouse walk in freezer to die slowly. Peter had called in absolutely every last favor that he had and spent five solid days hunting for Alistair until he found him. The last he'd known Alistair had been placed in WITSEC.

Peter hadn't been given any details on how well Alistair had faired after his ordeal, but he been there when Alistair had been found and at the time he had been close to death but even closer to insanity. Whatever he had gone through it had been apparent even at his rescue that he was never going to be the same again. It had always haunted Peter that he hadn't been able to keep Alistair safe, even if the man had set them both up to fail from the start.

Starting to shiver again Peter tried to figure out a way that he could at least get Neal out of this alive. There had to be a reason why Alistair had chosen now to risk such a brazen attack, Peter suspected that this had all been planed carefully, but it wouldn't be something that required ten years worth of scheming. Already weak and with the temperature quickly approaching zero Peter found himself effected by the cold much quicker than before. Having trouble keeping his thoughts on track Peter flinched as Alistair played him another audio clip of Neal fighting against his injury.

"Alistair, please, don't take this out on Neal. Let him go."

"I haven't touched him, he's made every decision to participate on his own. I have nothing against him personally, he's just another causality of your career."

"Why now?" Peter asked heavily. "It's been ten years."

"Well..." Alistair chuckled darkly "you know what they say about revenge."

"Don't you dare say it..."

"It's a dish best served cold."