A/N : FINALLY!

I'M. NOT. DEAD. NO. SOY. MUERTA. NON. SONO. MORTA. JE. NE. SUIS. PAS. MORTE

I'm really, really, extremely sorry for the wait! I've a lot of my mind and had a lot of exams, so I didn't really had the time to write or update ! , I've a lot of things going on, obviously. Thankyouthankyouthankyou for the feedback, it means the world to me, you don't understand how much it does. I LOVE YOU, NERDS!

Here's THE chapter 10. Hope it was worth the wait.

DISCLAIMER: Own nothing.

Bryce could feel Chuck's eyes boring a hole into his skull. He didn't turn his head to look back at him, though. He couldn't. Any gesture – of any kind – would've made everything worse. If that was even possible. He could also feel drips of cold sweat running down his spine. He felt the pain as his nails went deep into his palms. He felt the stress and fear as Roark turned his head and smirked at him.

But he didn't let it show. He couldn't let it show. He wouldn't give them this satisfaction. So, hoping to look casual, the former conman crossed his arms and leaned into his chair. Since Bryce had joined their table, Shaw ignored him, avoiding to meet his blue gaze. However, Roark seemed to enjoy the brunette's frustration. The older man kept staring at him, throwing smirks his way.

Neither man exchanged words. Until Bryce tried to reach behind his ear.

"I don't think you'll need that, Bryce." Roark intervened.

Then with a wave of his head, one of his gorillas went behind him and ripped the earpiece out of his ear and crushed it under his heels. From the corner of his eye, Bryce could see Chuck wincing, discreetly covering his ear with a hand while pretending to listen to his fiancé and Elizabeth's conversation. As the former spy looked back to Roark, the old man seemed pleased with himself. Grinning, he said:

"There. Now, we can talk without interferences. So, Bryce- Oh, can I call you Bryce or do you prefer Mr. Larkin?"

Bryce blinked at him, his face emotionless.

'Be calm, Larkin. Be you. Be a spy'

Taking a deep breath, Bryce let out a sigh and replied, slipping into his charming Neal Caffrey persona. He grinned back at Roark and replied, shrugging:

"Either one would be incorrect. My name is Neal Caffrey."

Not losing his sickly, friendly, smile, Roark countered:

"Ah, yes! Neal George Bennett, then Caffrey. The world's most famous conman and now, FBI agent Peter Burke's pet"

"I see you've heard of you." Bryce said, his smile turning into a cocky grin as he straightened in his chair.

"Oh, I've heard of both of you." Roark retorted, raising an eyebrow.

Bryce let out a loud laugh before saying:

" 'Both of me' ? You're making me sound like I'm some kind of schizophrenic." Then the former spy put on a serious face as he continued, looking genuinely confused "I'm sorry, sir, but I think you got the wrong guy. Happens all the time, guess I have one of those faces."

"Maybe." Roark agreed, shrugging a shoulder. After taking a sip of coffee, he asked "By the way, how is sweet Sara? I missed talking to her, she may be one of the smartest person I've ever met and talk to. Well, maybe after you, Mr Larkin."

Bryce knew the older man had talked but he hadn't heard anything after the name 'Sara'. His entire body was frozen, petrified. His muscles tensed, his cocky grin had disappeared and he felt as if someone had ripped his heart out. Bryce had entered a trance and the name of his girlfriend had triggered it. Noticing the change of behaviour, Roark lose his smirk and his glare became murderous. He leaned forward and said in a fake-whisper:

"We both have good cards in this game, Larkin, mine are just better than yours. So let's stop bluffing, because we both know that I'll win in the end."

Diana frowned as she was one of Roark's gorillas walking toward some brunette guy wearing a baseball cap. She became even more confused when the same man, obviously, tensed before being lead to the older man's table and being forced into a chair.

"What the hell..." she muttered.

"Diana?" Peter's voice asked through her comm. "What's going on?"

"I have no clue, some guy just joined them." she answered, getting closer to the table.

"What man? Can you see what he looks like?"

"I can't see his face" the young woman muttered, frustrated "it's hidden under his cap. But I can tell he's pretty tall, he's got brown, short hair and is wearing a black leather jacket."

The young agent slightly moved to the side and her eyes widened as she recognized the unmistakable piercing pair of blue eyes staring back at Roark. She must have gasped or made a noise of shock because a few seconds later, Jones asked:

"What is it?... Diana, do you know this guy?"

"BARRIGAN!" Peter barked, getting annoyed. "Who is it?!"

"C-Caffrey" the young agent muttered, then cleared her throat and said, louder "It's Neal."

Back in the van, Jones shot a shocked look at Peter. The older man mimicked his facial expression, then shook himself out of the trance and asked:

"Diana, are you sure?"

"YES!" She snapped."I almost sued the man for sexual harassment, I know it's Neal!"

Still shocked, Peter ignored Jones next to him, who was gaping like a fish out of the water, turned off the mic and took off his earbuds. Why was he even surprised? He knew Neal. The former conman was known to disobey any orders, especially if those orders were given by him. After taking a deep breath, he put his earpiece back on, signalled Jones to turn the mic back on and said:

"Stay put, Barrigan, I want you to keep an eye on both of Roark and Neal. I'm sending back up right away."

"Copy that, boss."

MANHATTAN AT TIMES SQUARE HOTEL

NEW YORK CITY.

Casey had just got off the phone with his daughter, making sure that her moron of a boyfriend didn't trash his place in his absence. For good measures, he had also texted Devon. Just in case. As soon as he had hung up, his laptop screen lighted up and Beckman's face appeared on it. He immediately stood to attention, pushing away his beer. The movement didn't go unnoticed by the redhead, who cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed then said:

"At ease, colonel. Where's the rest of your team?"

"Walker and Bartowski had a meeting with Burke's wife" He answered, after relaxing "Something about wedding's details."

"They're discussing about their wedding during a mission?" the General asked, raising both of her eyebrows.

"With all due respect, ma'am, their wedding is in a few weeks and we're supposed to be on a vacation."

"That was before you got involved with federal agents, colonel. Post-pone the vacation, the A team has been requested. It's about Shaw."

"What about him?" he grumbled, crossing his arms on his chest.

If there was a God, he must've hate them all. Not only Chuck had lost contact with Bryce, but neither Alex or Mozzie were replying. The human Intersecret was, now, blind and deaf. He wasn't completely stupid, either. Chuck knew that his spy fiancée wasn't oblivious to his nervousness, he had noticed the 'subtle', worried glances Sarah sent his way. And every time his brown eyes met her blue gaze, the tall brunette would smile lovingly at her and squeezed her hand in his or kissed the back of it. He was aware that both of women with him were discussing about their wedding, that he should pay attention, but his only concern was sitting a few tables away and was named Daniel Shaw. Well, Chuck was also worried about Bryce, obviously, but the presence of Shaw terrified him. His heart skipped a beat and the reason of his concern looked up and caught his gaze. The shadow of a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips.

Sara stormed into the mall, ignoring both of conmen following her. She had been angry when she thought that Neal had been ignoring her, she'd been furious she found Alex laying on her boyfriend's couch in her boyfriend's loft wearing said boyfriend's shirt. And nothing else. The conwoman hadn't been the bad only surprise she discovered. Not only Mozzie was with her, but Neal's apartment had looked like the secrets HQ of an espionage agency. And now, she was following two conmen into a mall to find her boyfriend. Who was dead (A/N: No pun intended) by the way.

Bryce was trapped. Bryce was deaf and blind. Bryce was in deep shit. The FBI was on case, a rogue CIA agent was protecting a terrorist and said terrorist was threatening him. Seeming emotionless on front, the former spy was cursing internally and wondering how the holy fuck had this became his life. He wasn't lying earlier, the young man seriously thought he would develop an identity disorder. Bryce observed Roark with undisguised disgust as the white-haired man ate in front of him. The latter swallowed the food in his mouth, took a sip of red wine before slowly wiping his mouth. He seemed to take a sadistic pleasure making him wait. The brunette man was at his mercy.

"You know" he finally said "it's quite entertaining to watch you hide so many secrets to your close friends and girlfriends. The role of Neal Caffrey suits you, you're a formidable actor. Really."

"I'm glad I'm amusing you and your monkeys." Bryce muttered, his jaw clenched as he eyed Shaw and Roark's numerous bodyguards.

"I'm curious, though" the older man continued, as if he hadn't hear him "How come Bryce Larkin can play the role of Neal Caffrey if both of them are dead?"

"classified." Bryce deadpanned.

Shaw glared at him, cocking an eyebrow. Bryce looked up at him, shoting him a cocky grin. Roark chuckled.

" 'Classified'? As in 'I-don't-know-how-but-it-is-a-reality' kind of classified? Ha! You gotta to hand it to them, spies are manipulative sons of bitches!"

That he wouldn't argue with, the blue-eyed man cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed. Bryce shot a look over Roark's shoulder to see Chuck white as snow, the latter trying to ignore his fiancée's suspicious looks as he pretended to listen to Elizabeth. He quickly averted his eyes when Roark's eyebrows rose and, curious, he turned around, following his previous gaze. He smiled as his eyes settled on the couple.

"They make a magnificent couple." He thought aloud, then turning back to face Bryce, he wondered "Would it be considered bad if I sent them a wedding gift?"

The blue eyed man chose to ignore it. Roark lose his smile for a second as he nodded to the tall and muscular bloke who had bring Bryce to their table earlier. The man nodded back, straightened his suit before walking toward the couple Bartowski-Walker. Movement that didn't go unnoticed by the former conman. Getting tired of it, Bryce asked in a harsh tone:

"What do you want, Roark?"

"Oh, no need to get angry, Mr. Larkin." The older man replied, raising his arms in a false sign of innocence. "I just want to make a deal with you."

"That's not going to happen" he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

And that was when he saw Sara walking toward the café, Mozzie and Alex flanked by her sides. And that was when hell broke loose and shit went down. Shaw followed his glance and smirked as he saw the auburn-haired woman, saying:

"You sure know how to choose them, Bryce. She's something."

Bryce shot out of his chair, his Plan B in his hand, barrel pointed to Daniel's head. The latter didn't wait to imitate the movement, his own gun pointed at his chest, a few centimeters away from his heart. Both men glared at each other, neither seemed willing to back down. They waited a few more seconds before hearing the screams of bystanders. Roark looked up at the two, his eyes going from Bryce to Shaw, and had a vicious smirk on his lips as he mockingly cooed:

"Oooh, this is what we call a stand-off."

Back in the van, the panic and confusion already present had blown up when guns had made their apparition. Peter was the worst of them all. Why the hell - and how the FUCK - did his CI own a freakin' gun? And why was he pointing it at someone? The FBI agent shot out of his chair, nearly knocking Jones over the head as he grabbed a walkie, shouting into it:

"This is FBI Agent Peter Burke, in charge of the NY White Collar division, I'm currently at The Manhattan Mall, we're in need of back up. 417(*), with a possible risk of 246(**). We have four federal agents on the scene, hence one undercover, and a possible suspect. Civils are not secure, I repeat civils are not secure!"

He waited during a few - agonizing - minutes before hearing a reply:

"This is Central. Roger that, Agent Burke. The lockdown has been ordered. We're sending a team right away."

"Roger that." Then, turning toward his team "The mall is under lockdown. Nobody goes in or out, until the back up team gets here. The civils are our priority, Caffrey and Barrigan come in second."

He threw back the walkie near the computers before grabbing a vest and his gun, shouting orders at the agents surrounding him. As they, each, grabbed a vest and armed themselves, Peter couldn't help but think

'What the hell are you doin', Caffrey?"

Shaw kept on smirking, his hand still and one finger on the trigger, as he ignored the shouts of panic surrounding him, chairs falling on the floor as people ran away.

"You won't shoot me, Larkin. You don't have it in." The rogue agent mocked.

Hesitantly looking up, he saw that the few screams had alerted Elizabeth, Chuck and Sarah and had caught their attention. Both spies didn't dare to move any inch of their bodies, too conscious not to attract attention to themselves. The Human Intersecret was staring at him, eyes wide opened, imitated by both of women by his sides. Bryce broke the eye exchange during a few seconds to glance at the Monkey, the latter getting closer to their table, his big fists clenched and his vest pushed back, revealing a gun. Chuck glared at him before groaning and getting out of his chair, earning weird looks from Elizabeth and Sarah.

The corners of his mouth quirked into a little smirk as he turned back toward Shaw, then said:

"You're right. I won't shoot you."

Before Shaw could reply, Bryce turned around and shot, without hesitation, the leg of another Monkey, ignoring his grunt of pain and quickly dunking as others engaged fire. As on cue, Chuck straightened his shirt and violently swinged the chair he previously sat in, breaking it on the tall bloke's back and making him fall. Grabbing two of the broken legs, he prevented him from getting up by digging his heel into his ribs, ignoring his wincing as he bent to take his gun. Weapon pointed at his chest and foot still pressing his ribs, he casually asked, not turning around:

"Honey, could you please take out my gun?"

"Sure." Sarah replied, mimicking Chuck's tone as she reached for his waistband "Mind telling me what's going on?"

"Sure. Just... not right now."

Her protest died in her throat as she and Elizabeth were forced to dunk by Chuck to avoid the rain of bullets coming their way. The Human Intersecret tucked the gun away before reversing the table, protecting the three of them. He quickly shot a glance toward where he had seen Mozzie, Alex and Sara enter the mall previously. The three of them had seek refuge in a cloth shop. Jumping into Team Leader mode, he ran his fingers through his short curls and said, turning toward the brunette woman:

"Here's what you're going to do. See there, where Sara and Mozzie are?" Although under a state of shock and fear, the woman managed a nod. "Alright, I want you to run there as fast as you can, not looking back. Just run. We'll cover you."

Not saying anything, Elizabeth kept on nodding, slowly getting up, careful not to attract attention to herself. Then she began running, occasionally crying as bullets came too close. A sudden cry of pain made Chuck deflect his gaze from Elizabeth's form to see a Monkey holding a bleeding head, a knife stuck into it and the gun long forgotten. His eyes immediately went to Sarah, who smirked in satisfaction. Feeling eyes on her, the blonde looked at the tall man and shrugged.

"What? You've got a super-computer inside your head, I've got knives."

Bryce dodged a flying knife before smiling as he saw it getting stuck into a hand. Gotta love her knives. He almost didn't see the huge guy ready to tackle him. As he got closer, Bryce raised a leg, kneeing him in the guts. His own gun empty and forgotten on the floor, he grabbed the silencer out of the Monkey's inside pocket. Too busy assembling the weapon, the blue-eyed man didn't notice a man coming from behind him. Well, he didn't notice until he fell to the ground, a bullet into his chest.

Bryce turned his head to see Diana standing nearby, her gun pointed at him, an unreadable expression on her face. He gave her a curt nod. Unreturned. He ignored her, turned around and pointed his gun toward... No one. Shaw had mysteriously disappeared and Roark was no where to be seen.

"You've gotta be shittin' me." He muttered, shock and disbelief obvious in his features as he started walking toward the table.

Aware of Diana's gun still on him, Bryce took a neatly fold note resting on the table. Taking between trembling fingers, his disbelief quickly disappeared and let place to murderous rage.

'Try to keep up next time, Larkin. It was pathetically easy to get to you. It still is.'

"FUCK!" He shouted, bawling the paper in his hand.

And as if it couldn't get any worse, SWAT and FBI teams stormed into the mall, guns at ready. It was as if time had slowed down Bryce watched as they secured civils, including Sara and Elizabeth, and saw Jones arresting Alex and Mozzie while Peter was walking toward Chuck and Sarah, both of their guns down and arms up. Bryce also watched as Diana lowered her gun down and started walking toward the rest of his team, his eyes never leaving his form.

The former spy let out breath as he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressing into his neck. His jaw clenched as he said:

"Casey."

"Larkin. Drop the gun." he retorted in a tone that didn't leave any room for discussion.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Not really but I'm kinda pissed off and shooting things is really therapeutic. I wouldn't mind shooting you. Again." He grumbled.

The brunette man sighed deeply before throwing the gun on the table. Casey didn't wait any longer to roughly shove him, pistol still on his neck. He didn't dare look up as he was handcuffed by Jones and surrounded by his team and friends. Somehow, his eyes ended up meeting Peter's dark one as he was dragged away. Eyes filled with hurt. Confusion. Disbelief.

Boy did he had explaining to do.

A/N 2 : God, I hope people are still reading this. I promise that you won't have to wait this long for the chapter.

(*) 417: Person with gun.

(**) 246: Shooting at inhabited dwelling

Peace out, nerdies.

KadiCriss.