Disclaimer: White Collar and the characters borrowed for this story are the creative property of Jeff Eastin. This story was written and shared solely for the enjoyment of other White Collar fans. No copyright infringement is intended.

Forged Friendships

Chapter – 10 Hiding Places

Mozzie sat back supported in the comfort of the Parisian leather chair, his right hand rhythmically dipping back and forth directing a recording of Mozart's, Die Zauberflote. The music flowed in time with the blue hued flames dancing in the fireplace. He inhaled deeply enjoying the bouquet of the fine wine before placing the thin lip of the crystal goblet to his mouth, taking another sip of the Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc. The wine settled warming his belly as he tipped his head back slipping another blue point oyster flavored with Mignonette sauce into his mouth. Mozzie smiled contentedly, rocking his head in time to the soft music as he raised his gaze upward looking through half closed eyes at the ornately carved ceiling panels.

The chess game was an easy victory that barely held his attention. Violet was nervously distracted, making moves without her usual methodical tactics and it seemed like a benevolent act when he slipped a dose of Valium into her drink. Mozzie held back a laugh as he heard muffled snoring sounds filtering down into the living area from above.

Leaning forward, he once again stared at the chessboard with disbelief that Neal was the one responsible for the weak defense posed to Violet in the game that they had just finished. Neal was a man of strategy, a formidable opponent and unyielding warrior when engaged. Mozzie closed his eyes and sighed fully cognizant that Neal was allowing his romantic sentimental heart to take the lead in this dangerous situation.

Pushing the empty plate of oyster shells to the side, Mozzie grasped the stem of the goblet and stared through the cut facets at the fractured glistening flames leaping inside the crystal kaleidoscope. His alcohol-steeped thoughts turned philosophical musing about the perception of the world through creative and innocent childlike eyes. "Wonder if this perspective was the catalyst for Cubism?" Mozzie drained the glass; placing it on the coffee table and wrapping the golden chenille throw around him as he settled in enjoying the warm satisfied sensation. His conscious mind yielding to slumber as the cool hues of cobalt and sapphire flames shifted out of focus.

Filtered nature light barely illuminated the living area as Mozzie awoke holding a creamy soft pillow to his cheek like a lover, his body tangled tightly within the confines of the golden chenille throw. "Hang on will ya." The buzzing of the cell phone against the coffee table rudely jolted him back from his dreams. Working a hand free from the tangled fringed edging, he grabbed for the annoying device and flipped it over, staring at the name on the caller ID. "Look, I don't know how you got this number but I don't know any Crystal Tomberland. Next time the numbers look like a moving target, get the bartender to dial for ya. Just don't wake me again."

""H-hel-lo Moz … I need your h-elp." The voice on the other end of the call sounded unusually hushed and strained.

"Neal? Neal is that you? Man, you sound terrible. Slow down, I didn't quite catch all of that. Can you talk a little louder? This is a really bad connection." Mozzie pulled his feet down from the edge of the coffee table as he searched for the remote control. "Hold on a sec." Digging his hand down into the side of the leather chair, he retrieved the remote and turned off the music.

"Moz … Pe-ter visit-ed me this morn-ing an his reck-less plan is go-ing to get Vio-let killed. I lift-ed a phone from my nurse so I-I can't speak up and I-I might nee-d to c-ut this con-versation short."

"I know all about The Suit's plan. I'm here at the hotel with Violet and she's holding it together so far. Neal, you need to hang up and just send text messages. Your voice is really shaky and muffled and I'm having trouble following. Besides, you don't want to get caught by the people who control the needles."

The sedating medication continued to hinder Neal's ability to think, with a slight lag between reality and his actions. This strangely addled perception was making it difficult for him to concentrate on his environment while simultaneously trying to hold an lucid phone conversation. He'd clearly heard the door to his room bump open and casual conversation filter through from the hallway. However, he wasn't certain about the last part of Mozzie's message.

"Moz got-ta go." He quickly slid the phone closed, concealing it in his sling. Turning his head to face the wall, he closed his eyes feigning sleep.

Patrick entered the room and sat his plastic supply caddy onto the tray table, running his finger down the page as he reviewed his patient list. "Neal Caffrey, IV site change and blood transfusion." Stepping closer to the bed, the nurse folded the sheet back and propped his clipboard against Neal's hip.

Neal rolled his eyes, cracking them slightly open as he slowly exhaled a sigh of relief. His responses were slower than normal and he'd just barely wedged his hand back into the restraint as he felt the sheet skim over his bare arm.

"Hmm, restraints." Patrick scanned the external condition of his patient as he released Neal's wrist. "I can't believe you're a runner, must be a fighter." The nurse's slender hands gently turned the top of the patient ID band into view, comparing the names. "Well Mr. Caffrey, I might as well wake you now rather than having you move when I try inserting the new IV and then end up having to do this twice." He lightly tapped Neal's shoulder, "Mr. Caffrey, I need you to wake up now. Can you hear me?"

Mumbling, Neal licked his lips and slowly turned his head as he drew his eyes open bringing the tall dark haired nurse sporting a smoothed back ponytail and diamond earring into view. The kind green eyes staring down at him matched the reassuring warm smile that was outlined by a neatly trimmed goatee. "Good Morning, my name is Patrick and I am with the IV Team. Can you tell me your name?"

Raising his eyebrows, Neal drew his forehead into a quizzical frown. "Ahh, N-eal … Neal C-affrey."

"Relax, you're scheduled for a blood transfusion and triple checking identification is the hospital policy. Are you okay with needle sticks?" He picked up the restraint and lay it back down on the bed.

"Ah … not cr-crazy about em b-but I won hit you if that's what you're ask-ing." Neal glanced down at his arm as he felt the nurse peel back the padded foam tape and pull the thin plastic catheter free.

Appling pressure to Neal's forearm, he noticed his patient silently dropped his mouth open, drawing his eyebrows together. "Hey, I like your IV pump sentry." Patrick read the note taped to the FurKin's tag. "Peter the Porcupine, Patron Saint of Phlebotomists. Someone has a wry sense of humor."

Neal pulled his grimace into a crooked smile. "Th-at would be Lizbeth."

"Sorry, I know these buggers burn coming out and this foam tape pulls all the hair out by the root. After having newbies practice on me, I have a greater respect for the discomfort you feel." Patrick wagged his head, smiling as he taped a folded gauze square in place. "Do you want me to try to find veins in this arm or would you prefer me to try the right one?"

Surprised by the choice Neal quickly responded, "Ah … left. Veinsss?"

"Yes, I hate to say it but I can't run a transfusion in the same line as these medications." Patrick pushed Neal's sleeve back and tied the tourniquet around his upper arm. "You're going to feel a little pinch. There, that wasn't too bad was it?" Quickly assessing the remaining veins in Neal's left arm the RN shook his head. "Sorry to put both arms out of commission but I am afraid that I won't be able to easily get another one in over here."

Panic rapidly set in Neal's stomach as he tried to lift his arm and dislodge the cell phone from the sling. "Can you use my hand?"

Patrick released the waist restraint and lifted Neal's forearm carefully examining his hand. "I have to use a larger needle for the blood transfusion. You still have good veins left over here and I think I can use this one." He pulled the skin taught across the back of Neal's hand and pressed lightly against the protruding vein. "However, hand sticks do hurt more."

Neal's breathing hitched as he felt the phone drop from the back of sling. Riggling slightly to the right, the conman nudged the phone underneath him, hoping it was completely hidden from view. He paused slowly blinking his eyes and finally returning a vacant gaze back toward the nurse as he contemplated the next hurdle of retrieving the phone.

"Am I making you nervous Mr. Caffrey?" The nurse unhooked the sling and closely examined Neal's arm. "I can easily use this one. However, I wouldn't want to tighten these restraints directly against it. Do you mind if I ask why they're in place? You don't seem at all combative."

Neal's hand scavenged for the small pillow, tugging it out from beneath the clipboard and hugging it against his painful incisions. "P-pulled out some tubes … in my s-sleep …. Gu-ess I-I almost died."

"We could leave the restraints free for a couple of hours and just have Crystal check in on you more frequently."

"No, no jus use my h-hand. I-I kept them busy nuf last nigh-t."

Patrick wasn't lying about the pain of inserting the larger needle into his hand and it continued to throb even after he'd left the room. "Who knew blood cells could be damaged by passing through too small a needle … probably Mozzie … but that isn't a question for now. No, no more morphine it's just muddling my thinking." He continued to stare toward the doorway as he deftly slipped his hand free from the wrist restraint.

Despite the pain of moving, Neal inched himself off the cell phone that was digging into a severely bruised rib. The sling held his injured shoulder secure and he was certain that he didn't have the strength to roll onto his side without help. "Think, Neal … Think. You've been in physically tighter spots than this before … but then again moving didn't normally send intense waves of excruciating pain through my whole body either."

He exhaled and looked down at his aching hand, tracing the path of the IV tubing draped across his abdomen and drooping down onto the surface of the bed. Biting down on his lower lip, he forced himself as far onto his right side as he could tolerate without fainting from the stabbing pain and stuffed the small pillow under his back. He rested a few minutes and then continued looping the tubing through his fingers. Swinging the IV line out in front of the phone, he caught a corner of it and pulled. Slowly maneuvering it along the sheet's smooth surface until the phone shifted and the tubing slipped free from the rounded edge. Several more times he attempted to snag the phone with the IV line but it continued to slide over its' smooth exterior.

Exhaustion from holding himself partially onto his side was sweeping over him when he finally caught a corner of the phone and flipped it up on top of his restrained arm. Falling back against the pillows, tears pooled in his eyes as he held the phone firmly in his grasp.

Turning on the phone, he started to type:

DH – There's a copy of V's favorite book The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe in my apartment. Track last week delivery, VFN-10 silane coupling agent - only one manufacturer. Shipped to a lab probably in the city. Requires a Class 100 clean room, filtered fume extraction system, a high-vac pack set-up and cryogenic freezer. MG will take V to that address. Cross-reference all shipments on list. Check import of liquid PR's and PFR's to the same address. Take bottle of BW Clear tracer in my paint box. You'll know what to do with it. Alert PB's men of location. –NC

Send e-mail dante haversham juncom

Neal turned off the phone and slid it back into its hiding place. The rush of raw adrenaline was rapidly subsiding into unbearable pain and he anxiously patted down the sheets in search of relief from a desperately needed dose of morphine. When he felt the edge of the dislodged bottom sheet, he realized that the morphine controller had fallen onto the floor beneath the bed. He shuttered as beads of sweat formed on his brow. Pulling his thumb in tight against his palm, he slid his hand back into the restraint and pressed the call bell that dangled loose over the side of the bed.

Crystal poked her head into the room's entrance to see her patient drenched in sweat and trembling. "Mr. Caffrey, what's wrong?" Neal extended his wavering hand and pointed to the floor. The nurse dashed across the room, fearing he was having a hemolytic reaction to the transfusion. Picking up the controller, she depressed the button for him and felt his forehead. He didn't feel feverish to the touch. "Just give it a minute and I'll give you another dose."

She raised the head of the bed and reached across his chest placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Caffrey, look at me. Are you having any difficulty breathing?"

Neal nodded his head no, squeezing his eyes tightly closed and biting down again on his lower lip. "No jus pain."

Crystal gently cupped his chin in her hand and turned his face up toward her. There was a trace of dried blood around his lips and fresh blood coated his teeth. "Try to breathe slowly through your mouth. That's good, Neal." She dispensed another dose for him. "You shouldn't have waited to call, if you were in this much pain."

Taking a face cloth from the nightstand, she gently patted his face dry and softly smoothing his damp bangs back. "I think you may have bitten the inside of your lip. Let me take a look."

Carefully rolling down his lower lip with her gloved hand, she examined the shallow incised wound. "It doesn't look too bad." She rolled up a sterile square of gauze and tucked it in between his lower lip and his teeth. "Let's see if that stops it." Pouring some water into a cup, she held the straw to his lips. "This will help get that nasty taste out of your mouth … I think I'll just stay here for a little while. Would that be alright?" Crystal released the restraint and held Neal's hand, carefully watching him for additional signs of a transfusion reaction.

After two additional doses of morphine, his trembling subsided and Neal seemed visibly more comfortable. Crystal squeezed his hand again, relieved that it was more than likely just an anxiety attack brought on from intense pain and probably stress.

"Do you think you could eat a little at lunch time? Dr. Turner ordered you semi-soft meals today."

Neal nodded no and allowed his head to drift to the side. "Not hun-gry."

"Mr. Caffrey, you need to start building up some strength. I think if you try to eat even a little today, Dr. Turner can upgrade your condition. She wants to get your leg pinned so you can start getting out of bed. That would mean you can lose some of these irritating tubes and monitors."

"May-be to-morrow."

Crystal smiled, "Oh come on now. I have a nice student nurse all picked out to help you. Just try not to look too eager. Okay?"

Instinctively Neal's eyes turned on the charm and he momentarily attempted to give Crystal his best boyish sweet smile.

She patted his hand and left the room. "Even with a wad of gauze in his mouth, it's hard to resist that smile."

It was already noon when Mozzie excused himself to go get a cup of coffee, leaving Violet with Jones and Cruz. He hadn't actually lied; he probably would have a cup of June's fresh Italian roast while completing his research at Neal's apartment. And with any luck, June would feed him some of his favorite cucumber and salmon sandwiches with pineapple salsa. He felt his stomach growl at the delicious prospects.

The fifteen-minute cab ride gave Haversham additional time to review Neal's message. First, he would locate the copy of Violet's formulation and then start tracing the chemical shipments. Mozzie pulled out his phone and sent Neal a quick message.

NC- On my way for cappuccino in the clouds. Let you know V's destination soon. –DH

June met Mozzie at the door and folded her arms around him in a friendly embrace. "Mr. Haversham, please tell me that this is a good news visit. How is Neal doing? Elizabeth seemed so concerned when she called this morning. She said that Neal gave them all quite a scare last night and that they were asked to leave him rest today."

Mozzie nodded fully aware of the fact that Mrs. Suit had left out some important details surrounding the situation. However, June was sufficiently worried about Neal without telling her that he almost died and that Violet was about to be plunged into the middle of an inadequately planned FBI operation.

"June, you know Neal … he'll be fine. He has those nurses wrapped around his little finger. He's all blue eyes and smiles." Mozzie held up his pinky and batted his eyes. "They leave the room needing oxygen more than he does. If it weren't for the needles and other uncomfortable things inserted into orifices I'd rather not mention, we'd never get him to leave that place."

Taking Mozzie's coat and hat in hand, June led him up the stairs to Neal's apartment. "Legally speaking, it might be better if you stayed downstairs while I locate a few things Neal requested."

June nodded, understanding Mozzie's precautionary statement. She knew Neal was a convicted felon and on occasion had the need to operate in the grayer ill-defined areas surrounding the law. However, she also trusted that his moral convictions and intentions were honorable so, she went to check on lunch leaving Mozzie alone to ferret out Neal's hidden cache.

The background research was essential to pull off this plan and there wasn't a lot of time left to verify the facts. Mozzie was fighting the clock and Neal's cryptic message left room for some misinterpretation. He turned and headed for the bookcase skimming the titles for C.S. Lewis when he abruptly stopped at the end of the first row. Staring across into Neal's bedroom, the answer to the clue became clear. The formulation was hidden in the back of the wardrobe.

Reaching up to the clothing rod, Mozzie parted the collection of suits and leaned in tapping lightly against the back panel of the wardrobe. Near the bottom of the last panel, the tone of his tapping changed and he pulled out his pocketknife separating the decorative trim strip from plywood veneer, exposing a thin stack of manila envelopes. Flipping through them, Mozzie pulled out one labeled Dr. Nesbit and returned the others to their hiding place. He reached up shifting the suits back into place, taking extra care to allow room between each garment. Neal was such a fussbudget when it came to his clothing and the last thing Mozzie wanted to deal with was taking heat for creasing a Devore.

Mozzie pulled out a chair at the dining table and reviewed the document as he waited for the laptop to boot. "Neal, I keep telling you, you've got to go Linux … open source code." He typed some code into the command line. VFN-10 Silane coupling agent was the Rosetta Stone for unraveling the location of the lab. A couple of hours of hacking SAP systems, cross-referencing other ingredients, one carefully contrived sob story about his lost shipment and he had the location. All shipments were made to Maria Brenham, a graduate student at Columbia University.

Another quick phone call and Alex confirmed that there was more than a little chatter going on about six newly discovered works by Maurice de Vlaminck, a French born painter known for his contributions to Fauvism. She confidently assured Mozzie that if Neal had these paintings and physically wasn't up to fencing them himself, that she would be more than willing to lend a hand ... for a price.

Mozzie opened Neal's paint box and removed the small amber opaque bottle, placing it in his pocket. It looked like Reid Halloran was going back to college, starting with a night class ... and this new student had more than a few surprises in store for Mr. Glassenger and his associates.

Author's Note: Thank you to all the readers that are following my story Forged Friendships. Your reviews are greatly appreciated. Please take time to let me know what you think of the latest chapter. I haven't heard from many of the international readers. I would love to get your opinions too. Thank You So Much - SK Musings