There must have been at least fifty people inside a room fit for no more than twenty-five. All of the occupants were standing, packed like sardines, with no room to move at all. The smell emanating from the room was staggering and Neal had to fight back a gag reflex. Each and every person had a dead look in their eyes, the look a person gets when there's no hope left for them.
"Alright everyone." Ava stepped into the doorway, taking charge immediately. The people looked up at her in surprise, and it occurred to Neal that it was unlikely that any of them spoke English. However, they seemed to understand when Ava gestured out the door hurriedly and said, "Let's get out of here."
The children got the message first, scrambling for the door and pulling their parents behind them. Others began to trickle out, with Ava urging them on from behind. It took longer than Neal would have liked, but soon everyone was clustered in the hallway. Ava pushed her way to the front and began motioning for them to follow her. Neal stayed behind, making sure the stragglers kept up. The group passed the unconscious guard at the crossroads of the hallways and Ava kept on towards the exit he'd pointed out. Towards freedom.
***
Peter pulled off the highway onto a dirt road with pot holes lining either side. The FBI issued sedan bounced down the road, lurching the passengers inside around, but otherwise the ride was uneventful. There were no guards posted anywhere along the route, in fact, there were no obvious signs of life anywhere.
A warehouse appeared in the horizon as the sound of tires approached from behind. Peter glanced back in his rearview mirror to see four cars driving behind him. Jones was sitting in the driver's seat of the first one.
"Calvary's arrived," Peter said, pulling to a stop in front of the warehouse.
***
"Dammit!" Mitchell Gadson threw his phone across the room as James walked into the room, a dour expression on his face. "Five cars just pulled up in front of the warehouse. The FBI just landed on our doorstep." James remained silent, staring at his boss. "What is it?" Mitchell asked angrily.
"The room holding our cargo has been breached," James said, masking his discontent, "I've sent a team to that area and am waiting to hear back from them."
Reaching under his desk, Mitchell grabbed a rifle and aimed it towards James, "You mean to tell me that not only have Caffrey and Hannigan escaped, but now they've stolen my property?"
"That sounds about right," James answered, looking anywhere but at his boss.
"Damn it!" Mitchell fired a shot into the wall, his eyes wild. "Round up the rest of security who haven't been outwitted by Mr. Caffrey. We'll meet them outside."
"Mitchell, the FBI is out there," James said cautiously, "we should think this through."
"You think this through," Mitchell snarled, "I'm ending this."
***
Peter watched the building through binoculars, looking for any type of movement. His gut told him to run into the building, guns blazing, but his training told him that would only get people killed, not save them, so he held still in the car. There was no doubt that the FBI's presence had not gone unnoticed, but he didn't want to bring any unwanted attacks on his agents until he was good and ready to fight Gadson. Tanner was on the phone with Detective Rodriguez who was in one of the FBI cars parked behind them, telling him to hold off on calling in the police department. Any more arrivals would only spook Gadson and whoever else was inside more.
"Got a plan?" Tanner asked as she put her cell into her pocket.
"I'm working on it," Peter answered, just as the door to the warehouse began opening.
***
Neal heard the door creaking open from behind the large group of people. The rush of fresh air, sweeping out the staleness of the warehouse was like a breath from God. Never again would he take the outdoors for granted.
"Alright, single file, single file!" Ava called from the front of the mass of people. Slowly they began moving out the door and into the sunlight. Many of the people were squinting in pain; after living under poor, fluorescent lighting for so long, real sunlight felt like daggers.
Neal carefully herded everyone out the door, watching behind himself for any guards. The complete emptiness of the hallway made him ill at ease. Gadson had to know something was happening; the entire facility should already be flooded with gun-toting goons. Never assume your enemies are that stupid, Neal reminded himself as he pushed the people harder outside.
***
Ava came out the door first, followed by a mass of the sorriest, dirtiest looking people Peter had ever seen. Tanner immediately grabbed the radio in Peter's car and ordered every medical unit in the area to the scene. They were going to have their hands full with all of the people in the crowd.
Anxiously, Peter scanned the crowd for Neal. His partner was nowhere to be seen, but the people were still pouring out of the building. Ava motioned them onwards, but some began to hesitate, seeing the numerous cars parked outside the complex, and quite a few FBI agents pointing their guns towards the building.
"Lower your weapons," Peter shouted back to the agents. "We don't want to spook them."
The people in the crowd who had hesitated watched as the agents re-holstered their weapons and took a much less intimidating stance. Still wearing the looks of cornered animals, they nevertheless began moving away from the door again, and as the last of them trickled out, Peter caught sight of the one person he thought he'd never see again. He was beaten almost beyond recognition, and his clothes were dirty and in tatters, but a hint of his old smile still lingered on Neal's face, and that smile grew wider as he caught sight of the FBI cars.
Shutting the door behind him, Neal turned and waved at Peter, who waved back. Never in his life did Peter think he'd be this relieved to see a conman alive and well.
"Alright people," Peter yelled to the agents around him, "It looks like we've got our work cut out for us. Medical assistance is on the way, but chances are they'll need our help. Detective Johnson will help you organize the people into groups and if you can, start taking down names and where they're from."
No one needed to be told twice. Tanner started shouting directions towards the agents who immediately began moving towards the refugees. Seeing that the situation was in good hands, Peter turned his attention to Neal. The conman looked dead on his feet, but was somehow managing to drag himself across the lot and remain upright while doing so.
Motion on the other end of the building caught Peter's eye. A small sliver of black appeared on the wall, growing larger and larger. A door had been built into the wall; it was almost invisible. Mitchell Gadson emerged from the dark warehouse, already aiming a large rifle at his target. Neal.
"Neal, get down," Peter shouted.
Neal looked at him questioningly and shrugged. Peter looked anxiously at the other agents for help, but they were too absorbed with the crowd of people to notice Gadson. He tried to warn Neal again, but the crack of a rifle firing cut him short.
***
Neal could barely see through the haze of exhaustion that had descended on him. The pavement was tilting left and right, and it took all of his strength to keep his feet on the ground. He looked towards his partner to see Peter's lips moving, but over the noise of the large crowd of the people all trying to talk at once, he couldn't make out what Peter was saying.
He lifted his arms, signaling that he couldn't understand, and Peter looked around frantically. Too late, Neal realized that Peter was trying to warn him of something, just as a rifle shot rang out.
***
It didn't hurt, that was the first thing Neal noticed. It was a strange sort of numbness where he knew he should be in agony, but his brain didn't seem to have gotten the message. The second thing he noticed was that the ground was strangely getting closer, and suddenly he was laying down, half on his side. There were muffled voices around him as Peter appeared in his line of vision. Neal tried to form words, but the signal was getting lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth.
***
"Neal, look at me!" Peter ordered as he crouched over his partner. Neal's eyes were darting around wildly, and Peter knew shock was setting in, if it hadn't already. Peter grabbed Neal's hand and squeezed, it was ice cold. "C'mon, don't give up on me yet! You've given me way too much trouble just to die on me now!"
The conman's eyes finally locked onto Peter's and Neal squeezed Peter's hand back, before his eyes drooped shut and his fingers went limp.
***
Yeah, I'm evil, I know ;P
Sorry for the long wait for the update, I blame jazz band, homework, AP classes, symphony, and Griffie. So this will be one of the last chapters, Yay! Almost done... and I'm not telling you if anyone dies until I post the next chapter...so until the next time.