Just an FYI the alarm that sounded at the end of the last chapter has not gone off yet at the beginning of this chapter.
Agent Hayden wiped her sweaty palms on her kakis. Agent Burke finally gave her a small rein of responsibility and she'd be damned if she let it go to waste. She did not go through probie initiation for nothing. She met eyes with the other agents' in the vault. They shuffled around nervously.
She let out a quick puff of air and tried to convey confidence. She was the agent in charge and she wasn't about to let Caffrey steal from the vault she was currently occupying. The explosion signaled Caffrey's entrance and the federal agents were on high alert, twitching at every sound. The most prominent sound at the moment was inconsistent beeps that echoed down the hallway from the Bullsworth headquarters.
On the third disgruntled beep, Hayden finally left her post. The sound was distracting the agents she tentatively referred to as hers. She motioned for them to stay put.
"What's going on?" she asked in her best business voice, as she entered headquarters.
The head technician, Bill, gazed at her unimpressed. "Someone is trying to open the front door. But their ID card doesn't have the security clearance."
"Who is it?"
"It looks like Bruce Matthews," a technician with a receding hairline replied. "He's been with the coompany for years. He's very loyal and his ID should be working…"
Video Matthews swore as his ID card failed, once again, to open headquarters. He pounded against the doors. "Let me in! We have a FBI agent down by the break room! Caffrey is in the building!"
Bill typed on a nearby computer. Camera footage of the hallways by the break room popped up. The hallways were empty.
"Matthews has recently been demoted," the receding hairline read off his computer screen, surprise leaking into his voice. "The cause is listed under internal affairs."
"Matthews isn't stupid enough to get in an argument with his bosses," Bill murmured.
"Apparently he is," Hayden said. "Caffrey usually has people on the inside, hired and otherwise."
"But Matthews has been with Bullsworth for years—"
"And has recently had his years of dedication thrown in his face," Hayden said, trying to maintain her official tone. "He clearly has a motive and is somebody Bullsworth employees would never suspect. Caffrey knows that."
The FBI agent on camera regarded Matthews cautiously as the camera's microphone picked up his worried tone. "What's the problem? You said this was an emergency."
"You saw how this was an emergency!" Matthews snapped back, shoving the FBI agent back a few steps as he reached for the keypad once again. "The card isn't working!"
The FBI agent froze.
"Let us in!" Matthews called again.
"Matthews…"
"What?" the Bullsworth guard snapped.
"What is that?" the federal agents had his eyes locked on Matthews' back pocket. Agent Hayden leaned forward in anticipation.
"What is what?"
The FBI agent plucked a small, black device from Matthews' pocket. "Is this a jammer?! Matthews, what did you do to the security system?"
The receding hairline technician gaped in shock. "Check the video feeds," Bill said. "See if anything is out of order."
"Nothing! I've never seen that thing in my life!" Matthews protested.
"Step away from the door," the federal agent ordered. "Do you know how much help you gave Caffrey!?"
"I didn't do anything! Get your head out of your ass and—"
"Step away from the door," the FBI agent commanded again.
"We've been staring at a loop in some of our camera feeds," a technician said.
Bill cursed. "How did we not see this?"
"So Matthews was jamming the system?" Agent Hayden demanded.
"It appears so," Bill said. "He gave Caffrey free reign over Bullsworth. He could be anywhere. Apparently Matthews has picked up something over his years of service. He would know the ideal place to hide the jammer and how to program it so the jammer would temporarily be overlooked."
"Open the door!" Hayden commanded. "Let's figure out what Matthews knows!"
Bill waved his hand vaguely, his face grave, and the doors opened to a screaming Matthews and FBI agent.
"Matthews!" Hayden yelled. "Up against the wall!"
~O~
Matthews thrashed against the firm grasp of the Bullsworth guards. He remembered training a few of them.
"You can't be serious!" Matthews cried in betrayal, his eyes finally falling on his oldest friend. "Bill, you can't honestly believe them! You've known me for years!"
"I thought I did," Bill said. He studied the black cube that found its way into Matthews' pocket. "This is high tech. How did you get it? And why?"
Had everyone in Bullsworth gone insane? Matthews had been a loyal employee for years. It hurt how easily everyone believed he was conspiring with Caffrey. "I swear to you, I've never seen that thing in my life. How do you even know it's a jammer? It looks like a rubix cube."
"Be quiet," snapped the woman FBI agent. "Put him someplace out of the way."
"This is ridiculous!" Matthews hollered as people he would've once addressed as friends started pulling him into the corner of headquarters. Bill handcuffed him to a rail. "It wasn't me!"
"Shut up," Bill murmured, "you're making things worse for yourself."
"Bill, you know me…"
"I know," Bill said, "but everyone is operating on high alert right now. Caffrey triggered that explosion. He's can strike at any time. Just be quiet…please. With the jammer in your possession and your recent demotion, you're a suspect."
"What demotion?"
"The 'internal affairs' argument," Bill said, frowning at Matthews' blank expression. "We'll look into it later. It's a bit chaotic right now. Just…stay put, ok?"
Matthews sighed but nodded. Bill gave him a half-hearted smile and returned to the lady FBI agent and Roger.
"—he was in a rush to get here," Roger continued to explain. Matthews snorted lightly at Roger's attempt to put distance between himself and Matthews. Roger implied Matthews met him only a few minutes prior to his "betrayal." There was sick logic behind the federal agent's reasoning. Roger didn't want to become a suspect through association. Anyone would rather be depicted as the hero. The Bullsworth technicians were bustling to ensure all the security cameras were up to date. Matthews ignored their unwarranted glares as he fumed at the lady FBI agent congratulating Roger on his capture and astute observational skills. Astute observational skills his ass…
The whine of alarms made Matthews freeze.
The lady FBI agent wasted no time to run toward the vault. Her curses quickly caught the attention of the lab technicians.
Matthews handcuffs clinked as he tried to peer into the hallway. Billows of smoke escaped from the vaults open door.
"He's in the vent!" came the call of the lady agent.
"What did you do?" Roger yelled at Matthews, completely invading his personal space. A Bullsworth guard lightly pulled Roger away from Matthews. Roger ripped away from the guard and disappeared into the mass of mulling technicians.
Bill quickly entered in the computer password to activate the ventilation security. Matthews watched as alarms went off as the culprits climbed toward the roof. How the hell did they manage to sneak into the vault? Bill pressed the intercom button. "All security head up to the roof. ASAP!"
The lady FBI agent finished her murmured report in her walkie-talkie. "…at least a quarter of the vault is gone."
"We already have a team in place on the roof," came the crackled reply. "Keep an eye on security and notify me as soon as there's a change."
"Copy that," the agent said. "What are we looking at?"
"The culprits are almost to the roof," Bill said. "They're moving fast, but people are already in place." Bill pulled up the rooftop security feed, showing at least a dozen federal agents and Bullsworth security guards rushing through the door. Matthews vindictively hoped that the agents would be forced to shoot one of the culprits. It was their fault he was apparently guilty. Matthews frowned. Actually, it was Roger's. He was the one who "found" the jammer on him. Matthews couldn't help but suddenly find all of Roger's activities suspicious. Roger's timing had been a bit convenient all night. Matthews peered around the room. The only visible agent was the lady agent leaning over Bill's shoulder. Roger was gone. Half thought out as he suspicions were, there was still a cause for doubt. Since they were abrupt in deciding Matthews' fate, Matthews would return the favor.
"Roger is one of them! Where is he now? Gone!" Matthews yelled. Of course, they all ignored him.
~O~
Diana groaned as they carefully carried the injured Bullsworth guard down yet another flight of stairs. Of course, the elevators had to be out during a time like this. Their progress was embarrassingly slow. It seemed that anything that could go wrong would. Sadly, that meant that while Caffrey stole from Bullsworth's "impregnable" vault, Diana was forced to babysit the injured guard. His moans and coughs seemed to be getting louder and more dramatic. Upon closer inspection, his injuries appeared to be little more than surface wounds causing Diana to feel little sympathy
"Be careful!" the guard snapped weakly. "I'm in a very delicate condition."
"We're being as careful as possible," Diana muttered.
The guard still managed to snort in disbelief between his flailing coughing fit. His coughing made him almost tumble off their makeshift stretcher for a third time. The federal agents were quick to catch him.
"Lobby," the other FBI agent gasped.
"Thank God."
Diana and the other agent managed to maneuver the door open without toppling over the guard and walk briskly across the lobby. The secretary was nowhere in sight. Diana belatedly realized that he was probably in the panic room, as Bullsworth guidelines dictated for all non-security personal during a potential, or not so potential, theft. Two EMTs rushed through the door, instantly making Diana sigh in relief. Their timing was impeccable.
"Is that him?" the guy EMT yelled.
"Yes," Diana said, ignoring her inner sardonic answer, "he's been talking since we found him and only seems to suffer from minor burns, bruises and possible smoke damage."
The ginger EMT quickly checked the guard's pulse. She frowned, her cap and hair covering her face. "It's choppier than I would like," she drawled in a heavy southern accent. "Let's transfer him to our stretcher and go."
"We'll check his status later," Diana said, opening the double doors. The guard was fine with the more than capable EMTs.
"Ready?" the guy EMT asked as they positioned themselves by the guard's head and feet. "1, 2, 3." They transferred him to their stretcher with practiced ease. They quickly carried the guard through the opened doors and into the ambulance.
"You guys good?" Diana yelled from across the parking lot.
The guy EMT waved distractedly. "We'll feel better when he's admitted in a hospital."
Diana nodded as the EMT slammed the back of the ambulance door and pulled out of the parking lot. She jogged to the surveillance van, offering little preamble before rushing into the back. "How's the roof?"
~O~
"Freeze!" Agent Louis yelled. "You're surrounded. You have no place to go."
The black clad burglars were cornered on the edge of the roof. Agent Louis had ensured that his team cut the conmen off from all possible exits. One of the black clad conmen flashed a light on the streets below. Agent Louis smirked as he shrank away from the edge. He, not Agent Burke would be the one to arrest the infamous Neal Caffrey.
"Get away from the edge," he barked as he and the other agents began to inch forward. In the distance, an ambulance siren wailed. The black clad figures glanced at each other. That's right, nowhere to run. Agent Louis allowed himself a small, satisfied smirk.
Agent Louis kept his gun trained on the figures as one of the men began to slowly raise his hands. "Slowly…"
Agent Louis blinked in surprise as the other man threw something at the agents. A few shots rang out as a flash of light blinded the agents. Agent Louis stumbled backwards. He staggered towards the edge of the building, frantically urging his eyes to stop seeing spots. He swore when he saw the men were no longer on the roof.
"They parachuted off the side of the building," he reported bitterly in his walkie-talkie. "They left a bag of the bulkier Bullsworth merchandise on the roof."
"What's their getaway car?"
Agent Louis squinted as he saw the conmen landing on the street below, a few late night taxis honked in surprise. "An ambulance."
~O~
"An ambulance."
Peter, Diana, and Jones froze at Agent Louis' dull response.
"The EMTs were involved?" Diana murmured. "I held the door open for them…"
Jones glanced up at Peter's icy face; he could practically see the gears turning. "NYPD is notified to be on the lookout for an ambulance on Maples. Our cars are already in pursuit."
"Put the radio on," Peter said.
Jones nodded and quickly complied. Diana glanced worriedly at Peter as they listened to their agents close onto the target.
"Target is refusing to pull over," one of the car teams reported. "Prepared to cut off target."
"Copy that," the other car said, "we're about to pass and cut off—shit."
Peter scowled at the agent's curse. What the hell did Caffrey do now?
"…Multiple ambulances just arrived on scene and—watch out!—One is attempting to ram us."
"Caffrey is getting violent," Diana observed.
"The question is if it's worth it," Peter said. "Did they lose Caffrey's ambulance?"
Jones winced as he heard the tire squeals and the screech of metal on metal.
"Eyes are still on target! In pursuit now."
"Apparently, not…" Jones said.
"I'd like to see how Caffrey tries to talk himself out of this one," Diana said as the listened to the cars gain ground on Caffrey's ambulance.
"NYPD blockade ahead! Ambulance is slowing down."
The agents in the van collectively held their breath for the agent's next words.
"The ambulance is surrounded…the men are getting out…and—sorry, Burke. It's a bunch of teenagers. We…uh…apparently lost Caffrey's ambulance in the confusion."
Diana and Jones remained silent as Peter uncharacteristically lashed out and hit the side of the van.
"How the hell did Caffrey manage to steal from Bullsworth?" Peter yelled. "He knew we would be staking it out." He released an aggravated sigh and continued with force calm. "Let's assess the damage."
~O~
Neal tossed the bag filled with the Bullsworth merchandise to a man a few years younger than him. While Neal typically avoided hiring gangs—they were practically children after all—no one else was willing to distract FBI pursuit on such short notice. The gang members in the other ambulances, which Alex and Mozzie supplied, were more violent than Neal preferred, they got the job done. The FBI momentarily lost their trail.
"Is it all there?" the gang leader asked, doubtfully eyeing the duffle bag. A few gang members clicked their guns menacingly.
Neal nodded, refraining from commenting on the gang's theatrics. "It's worth about hundred thousand dollars. Wait a few months until the items cool off and you'll make quite a tidy profit."
"Why would I sit on a small fortune?" the gang leader snorted, flicking his greasy hair out of his face.
"Do what you want," Neal said. "It's yours."
"Great…now get off our territory."
"Hmph," Mozzie said, climbing out of the back of the ambulance, "absolutely no hospitality."
"Do you want me to make those bruises real, old man?" the gang leader threatened.
Mozzie rolled his eyes, already in the process of wiping off his burns and bruises. "Sometimes I doubt the youth of today."
"We're leaving," Neal said, hastily stepping in between the gang leader and Mozzie. He shot Moz a pointed look. He chose now to provoke gang members why? As unstable and disorganized as they were, they were still a threat. "Everyone ready?"
Blaine nodded, climbing out of the driver's seat. "Yep, and the ambulance won't be traced back to us."
Alex eyed the gang distastefully and quickly turned on her heels and strode down the alleyway, with the rest of the boys in tow. She casually picked open Mozzie's taxi. "Where to?"
"I do believe that I'll be the one to drive my cab," Moz said disdainfully, brushing past Alex and revving the engine. The Caffrey brothers watched as the gang leader finally snatched the bag and disappeared in the shadows, apparently finding the amount of precious metal in the bag pleasing. The younger members of the gang continued to watch them with a mixture of distrust and awe.
"Shotgun!" Blaine said, walking toward the passenger side.
"I don't think so," Alex said, butting in front of the youngest Caffrey, "you get the awkward lump in the back."
"Why?" Blaine pouted. Alex ignored his puppy dog eyes. Evil woman.
"You dyed my hair."
"Come on Blaine, we don't want the Feds to start retracing their steps," Neal said, distracting Blaine long enough for Alex to jump into the treasured shotgun seat. Blaine gave Neal a look of utter betrayal. Neal ruffled Blaine's hair teasingly as he prodded him towards the backseat.
"I still can't believe that worked," Brian said, climbing in the back of Mozzie's taxi.
"I told you FBI jackets with a reversible EMT side would come in handy," Moz said.
"No one ever disagreed with you," Alex said as Mozzie pulled into the late night traffic. New York was named 'the city that never sleeps' for a reason. "Shockingly, reversible FBI jackets don't even make the top twenty of your bizarre purchases."
"Can I see it?" Brian asked, turning to Blaine.
Blaine mocked frowned.
"Oh God, you didn't lose it did you?" Mozzie asked, groaning.
"Your lack of faith is disturbing," Blaine said, rolling his eyes. "Do you know how hard it was to get the head technician's fingerprint? I had to use the one on Matthews' handcuff."
"Yes, you're a god among men," Alex said sarcastically. "Let's see it, Caffrey."
Blaine displayed the flashdrive with a cheeky grin. "How much do you think the next Bullsworth security system will go for in the Black Market?"
~O~
Peter paced in the FBI conference room. The federal agent was reviewing Matthews' witness sheet on the last night's events. Peter released Matthews soon after he stormed into the Bullsworth headquarters, the guard's flimsy imprisonment proven even more flimsy when his main motive for his "betrayal"—his demotion—turned out to be false and Probationary Agent Roger Thompson was nowhere to be found. Agent Hayden hadn't actually been in contact with "Roger" long enough to get more out of him than a brief, incriminating accusation of Bruce Matthews. She also confessed to not paying enough attention to the false agent to recall his appearance. She was too preoccupied with finding Caffrey then to suspect one of their own, a sentiment Peter could respect but didn't find any less irritating. The few tapes that actually captured Roger, the conman managed to avoid directly facing the camera. Diana dismally reported that she never got a clear look at either EMT. They both kept their hats close to their faces, a fact that Diana didn't register until it was far too late. The only descriptions she provided was that the girl had red hair and the boy was short with a scruffy face. The case was off to a very rocky start with no man in Caffrey's team identified, and it was only pure speculation that placed Caffrey at Bullsworth last night. The only positive lead the FBI gained from last night was a sketch of the "injured" Bullsworth employee who Diana had managed to get a good look at.
"So the EMTs, the FBI agent, the two masked men…" Jones listed.
"Don't forget about the forged order the secretary received," Peter reminded. "That marks the entrance of at least one more member of Caffrey's team."
"And those are only the people we know about," Diana said.
"Caffrey had a team of 5 to 10 people," Peter estimated. "A larger group than Caffrey usually works with."
"Maybe he didn't have a choice," Diana mused. "But he knew we were going to stake out Bullsworth. Why did he still go through with it?"
"He succeeded, didn't he?" Peter grumbled. "Even if it was an unnecessary risk. Almost suicidal…"
Agent Hayden briefly knocked against the glass door as she placed a file on the conference table. "There's a ton of talk about the Bullsworth heist, but our CIs haven't heard anything connecting the heist to Caffrey."
"Of course not," Peter muttered. He was always wary when it came to CIs. "Surely that's not the only thing you're here to report, Agent Hayden."
"Tech Department has finished analyzing the pieces you found." Jones looked at Agent Hayden with interest. The gadget left in the keypad and the jammer cube were works of art. They honestly reminded Jones a little of the Vulture and Hardison, both world-renowned and FBI-wanted hackers. "They weren't bought on the market, Black or otherwise. The gadgets were handcrafted, obviously, but they don't contain a signature marking from any known hackers."
"Caffrey went with an unknown?" Diana asked. "Surprising."
"And unlikely," Peter said. "I doubt Caffrey would work with someone he didn't trust on a heist this big. The same goes for the hacker. He wouldn't work with Caffrey on a heist that involved this much FBI if they didn't have a history. Maybe we've come across a criminal that finally used common sense and didn't put a signature linking the crime to them. But let's be realistic…have the Tech Department search for any signatures on the ID keypad gizmo. I don't think that was meant to be left behind. If there's a signature anywhere, it'd be on that."
Agent Hayden nodded. "It shouldn't be too hard. The Tech Department can't stop analyzing them. If they were teenage girls, they would be drooling and screaming right now."
"Well just make sure that they're drooling and screaming over the ID gadget," Peter said.
"And the fingerprint results are back," Agent Hayden said.
"From the safe house?"
"Yep, one set matches Caffrey, another matches Holden and one matches Elvis Presley," Agent Hayden said, her official tone only breaking while reporting the last match.
"One of the conmen was wearing a set of fake prints?" Diana said in disbelief. "Why? It's not like they knew we were onto Holden until after the fact."
"Apparently one of our conmen has a sense of humor," Jones said.
"And the last set of prints?" Peter prompted.
"It didn't match any prints in our system," Agent Hayden said.
"Did you run the prints through all the systems?" Diana asked.
Agent Hayden quickly wiped off the slight sneer that appeared on her face. "Yes."
"So the last conman has never been arrested, got his license, entered the U.S. military or has been a suspect of a crime," Jones said.
"Our unknown hacker?" Diana asked.
"Possibly…" Peter said. "But at least four of the members of the Bullsworth heist were in the safe house."
"Alex was probably involved," Diana said.
"What about Caffrey's girlfriend?" Agent Hayden asked.
"She was last spotted in Rome but that report is a week old," Peter said. "Kate is definitely a possibility. We'll keep an eye out for her and any of other Caffrey's known accomplices."
"What about the Bullsworth prints?" Jones asked Hayden.
"They were either employee fingerprints or were a partial that didn't match anyone, even Caffrey," Agent Hayden said.
Peter's phone buzzed, interrupting the agents' brainstorm session. "Hello? …We're on our way," Peter said, hanging up the phone. "Grab your gear, NYPD has a hit on the Bullsworth's stolen items."
~O~
"So how was it freefalling from twenty stories?" Brian asked. Alex and Blaine met each other's eyes and cracked out almost identical grins.
"Awesome!" Blaine said.
"Ditto," Alex said, toweling off her hair. She grimaced at the now red towel and threw it in the trashcan. "Remind me to thank Parker for introducing it as an obvious solution."
Brian looked at skeptical. "But you freefell."
"There was a rope," Blaine shrugged. "Besides, how else were Alex and I supposed to beat Mozzie to the lobby? It's not like EMTs can come off the 'busted' elevator. The lady suit would never believe that."
"Plus we had to drive the ambulance to the parking lot," Alex said.
"I know, but…you freefell!"
"Just let it go, Brian," Neal said. "You have to accept Blaine and Alex's quirkiness."
"That's one way to put it," Mozzie called from his place on the couch. He winced at Alex's smack. "What? I didn't say it."
"I know," Alex said, "you would've been a lot worse."
"So how long are we chilling here?" Blaine asked, flopping on the couch, partially landing on a disgruntled Mozzie's lap.
"It's been about a day," Brian said. "So add like 6 to that."
"We're staying here a week?" Blaine whined.
"Maybe longer," Mozzie said, fruitlessly trying to shove the youngest Caffrey off him. "We all know the gang isn't going to wait to pawn off those pieces. That'll make the heat lamp on us even hotter."
"The heat lamp isn't on all of us," Alex said, looking pointedly at the duo on the couch. "You or Blaine could fence it, preferably Blaine."
Mozzie almost looked offended. Neal shot Alex a glare.
"He's more approachable and less likely to scare away potential customers," Alex explained with a roll of her eyes.
"Psh I have to work. Ain't nobody got time for that," Blaine said.
"Is that a quote…?" Moz asked, frowning.
"Plus it's dangerous," Neal said, "and we don't want you to be seen by the rich and powerful of the criminal world so soon to your premiere."
"You do realize—"
"Be quiet and give me a back rub. You still owe me from that hair dye," Alex interrupted Blaine. She was so not in the mood for a Caffrey argument. She was pleased when Blaine grudgingly complied. "Emphasis on the 'die' in hair dye. And I really like your face when it's scruff-free, Blaine."
"It's unfair how fast your hair grows," Mozzie said.
"You always want what you can't have," Neal teased.
"Says every person ever," Blaine said.
"So who's up for a game of poker?" Brian asked.
"Ooh, I'm so in," Alex said. "I always hate lying low."
"Are we playing with money or…Blaine, you have got to change your ringtone," Neal said.
His brother smiled sheepishly in response, "Hola senor. Oh, shi—I mean, hello Mr. Murphy."
"You have only yourself to blame," Neal said. "Caller ID was invented for a reason."
Blaine glared at Neal. "I'm sorry, what was that? What? I can be there. Sorry, I never had a chance to check my messages lately and didn't get the email or the voicemail…s. Yeah…I've been kind of away from technology for a while. …I'll be there as soon as possible. Alright, bye. Sorry again."
"What was that?" Brian asked, shuffling cards.
"Glee party?" Blaine said, finally getting off of Mozzie. "Apparently it's a semi-big deal for the new people. We can talk to Fox producers and sponsors and charm them to death or something…Being Warbler lead, Ryan was more than a little surprised when I didn't show up with the rest of the Warblers. Apparently, the Glee staff did a very good job at spamming our emails and phones with memos."
"And you're going?" Neal asked.
"It's not like it's dangerous," Blaine said, circumventing Neal's fallback argument. "Only a spare few in the criminal world knows my face, FBI doesn't know me at all, and it would raise suspicion if Blaine Criss didn't go especially after Ryan's call."
Neal grimaced. He didn't like Blaine's reasoning, but he couldn't keep his brother captive just because it made him feel better.
"Blaine gets to escape from the safe house just because he's famous? So not fair," Alex said. She hurried to her feet when she saw Blaine make his way to a closet. "I'm helping you pick out your outfit."
"I do have a sense of fashion."
"Yeah but who's been to the most Hollywood parties?" Alex asked. "That's what I thought."
~O~
Blaine practically threw money at his cabbie, knowing that the resulting tip would be outrageously generous. He was late to his very first big, and probably last, celebrity party. Ryan did a remarkable job at conveying the parental I'm-not-mad-I'm-disappointed tone and the I'm-your-boss-so-get-down-here-before-I-kill-off-your-character vibe. He was fully planning to utilize all his con skills to casually join the party and pretend he'd been there the entire time.
Blaine slowed his pace to a walk and smoothed his tie. His ensemble wasn't the best, but he and Alex had a limited selection of clothes and were eventually convinced by Neal that no one would expect Blaine to look like he was Red Carpet ready. He drew in a quick breath as he opened the double doors. He had to walk down a grand staircase, but Blaine hid his grimace as he quietly shuffled down the steps. The people below appeared to be immersed in conversation, giving Blaine hope that at least the majority wouldn't see his belated entrance.
He wasn't sure what made him turn around. A sixth sense? The cold draft to the back of his neck? Blaine would later swear that he heard someone mumble behind him.
With the mindset to casually join the party momentarily forgotten, Blaine took out his phone and pretended to take a picture of the architecture above the entrance. Only to fumble and drop his phone with a loud clank as none other than Agent Peter Burke appeared a few steps above him.
Blaine's heart hammered as the suit descended towards the young hacker.