(Chapter 11)
Neal looked at the cell phone, jumping when it rang again. He was reluctant to answer it when he looked at the name calling.
"Mozzie... where are you?"
There was a moment of silence then the sound of breathing and a voice.
"Almost there. Had to borrow a vehicle. Is something the matter? You sound spooked." Mozzie was ever perceptive.
"Peter... he figured out I had this phone and called. He knows what I'm up to. We have to do this quickly." Neal sounded strange when he said that, the guilt eating at him but he had to take care of this. Taking Jarrell out was his business even if Peter had accidentally stumbled upon it.
"Just around the corner. Be right there."
They hung up, Neal looking at the phone a moment before he dropped it on the ground and smashed it with his foot. A few minutes later he heard a short honk as a car pulled up to where he stood at the bus stop along the rural road. He had been surprised to find the facility they were at was in a more pastoral part of the state. Neal walked over to the car as the window rolled down and he saw Mozzie's profile.
"You look lost. Need a ride?" Mozzie had a small smirk on his lips as Neal rolled his eyes.
"Only if you don't mind picking up an alleged art thief and forger. I promise I won't steal anything... major." Neal smiled his most charming smile although he really wasn't feeling all that charming. In fact he was feeling a bit guilty still for breaking his promise to Peter to ask for help. He heard the lock pop and opened up the door as he entered the car and closed it. Mozzie was watching him as he sat there staring out the window. He finally turned to see what was up when the little guy gave him a pointed look.
"Seatbelt... duh! I see you don't have the anklet on." Mozzie waited impatiently till Neal put on his belt and slumped back against the window and seat. He shouldn't be out of bed yet, his body still aching, muscles still weak from the poisoning. He was far from healthy but he had to do something to stop the cycle before someone else ended up hurt or dead by Jarrell's goons. He shook his head.
"Guess they didn't have time to put one on me while I was hurt and they needed to keep us under wraps. Witness protection and all. You going?" Neal turned his head just enough to look at his friend who nodded as he put the car in gear and took off. They drove in silence for a bit till Neal felt himself falling into a kind of half doze, his mind wandering back to the conversation with Peter.
"This feels wrong, Peter. Jarrell would have tried something by now. You're sure Elizabeth is safe?" He sounded more than anxious as Peter nodded.
"Safer than we are and we both have guards. I don't even know where they took her and Diana went underground with her for the meanwhile so we have Jones and Hughes working on this with us. Maybe he gave up. Sometimes people do that..." He saw the look on Neal's face and shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee.
"Jarrell is like a cold that won't go away. Once he has your number you're sure to know it's up. It's a set up, Peter. He's waiting till we're out in the open. You should go home and stay there. If he comes for me..." Neal blinked, averting his eyes from Peter's glare.
"I already told you Neal you're not expendable. That's why I'm here. I wanted to be sure if they were going to do this El was safely away and you were under my surveillance. I have your back. Ok? Remember that the next time you go off on your own. You're lucky Jones didn't take that punch you gave him literally."
Neal nodded almost reluctantly then smiled and seemed somewhat relieved. He grasped Peter's hand in his own.
"Thank you Peter. I never wanted to get you involved with this. I never thought he would come for me. It's been ten years and... I'm going to have to apologize to Jones. I never got the chance."
"Jarrell found you because of me. It's my fault too. I didn't think to tell you what we were looking for in those files. I should have but I had no idea you had ever been involved with him or I'd have found a way to make sure you were safe. I'm sorry Neal."
He woke up, looking around to see that they were outside of a large fenced area. Mozzie looked nervous, staring over at Neal.
"You're certain you want to do this? The suits will know where you are. They'll know what you did." Mozzie looked like he was about to turn the car around but Neal stopped him.
"I have to do this. Just... wait for me or I can take a cab if you're leery. I have to draw his fire in my direction. Go if you need to and hide. Probably safer that way." Neal looked at his friend who nodded reluctantly.
"There are other ways, Neal but break a leg." Mozzie patted him on the shoulder as Neal stepped out, dressed in one of his suits, his ID and other possessions on hand. Mozzie had already set up the anonymous meeting with Jarrell, the racketeer unknowingly agreeing to see him. Neal stood up as straight as he could, fought back the pain and aches as he glided across the gravel sidewalk and into the guard post entrance.
"I have an appointment with David Jarrell. I'm his lawyer."
()()()
Jarrell wondered why his lawyer was seeing him now. It was a bit late when he'd already been indicted but he hoped the man had found some way to get him out of this cage. It was nice to be out of solitary for a few hours if nothing else. He'd already used all but one of his few remaining hit men to get at the Fed and Caffrey but he was holding out on that last card till he knew where they were. They had effectively vanished after the last attack and his other man had been shot and killed. He wondered if Caffrey had done it but shook his head as he remembered how skittish the young man had been about violence and guns. He doubted it had been Caffrey. He looked up as a figure was brought in and blinked, surprise evident then a kind of smile or smirk indicating his amusement at their presence.
"I had no idea my lawyer had such a remarkable resemblance to the man who screwed me on a deal and got me arrested. Hello Mr. Caffrey. I guess you finally decided to come out of hiding to face me. How kind of you to visit. To what do I owe this great pleasure?"
He smirked, smiling at the younger con as he leaned back in the chair he was handcuffed to.
"Leave my friends alone and you can have me. That's what you wanted isn't it?" Neal kept his voice low enough to just be between them as the guard stood by the door. Jarrell blinked then broadened his smile, one people knew meant he wasn't as happy as he looked. He thought he saw the younger man shiver in fear as he leaned forward slowly.
"If you can survive the next 24 hours, consider it done. If not..." His voice trailed off ominously as he steepled his fingers before him and leaned closer.
"Not much I can do being in solitary. My men have their orders to kill on sight regardless. There is a price on your head and they'd rather kill you than deal with the consequences of failing me." Jarrell could see the younger man flinch ever so slightly, his mask breaking just enough. Caffrey was afraid of him but he was putting up a brave front for his so-called friends.
"Expect a caller soon..." Jarrell saw the younger man pale but glare back as he stood up and left. He had the con where he wanted him. Jarrell waited for the guard to take him back to his cell where he watched the guard leave and dug around behind the toilet and pulled out a beat up looking cell phone. He pushed some buttons on it and it lit up as he dialed a number and pushed it to his ear, his attention partially on the call and on his surroundings. He didn't need to get caught now.
"It's me. He's out and he's leaving the prison now. Have someone pick him up and make sure he's put away for good."
Jarrell hung up. He was playing his last card and hopefully, this one would pan out.
()()()
Neal left the facility, mind thinking of what he had done, what had occurred and hoping he was doing the right thing. It felt right yet he heard that nagging voice in the background that had only recently started to show up in the form of Peter chiding him at being a reckless and stupid imbecile for getting himself into more trouble. He was about to retort when he felt a presence behind him as he exited the prison. Neal turned to find Peter standing there.
"Peter?"
Neal saw the agent standing there, staring at him. He looked angry but he looked worried more than anything.
"Neal, you're in trouble."
The con blinked, uncertain what he was saying till he felt a pain in his head, a sharp ache that made him want to faint.
"I was protecting you... protecting El. I couldn't let Jarrell..." He watched his friend shake his head interrupting him.
"Yes, I know but that's not what I meant. Neal... wake up."
Neal blinked at his friend, the figure growing blurry, indistinct, his head hurting more the longer he stood there. Something was wrong but he wasn't sure what it was.
"I don't... under... stand..." Neal collapsed to his knees, someone touching his arm. He felt rough hands unseen grab at his arms and pull at him. Peter was fading away.
Neal... wake up! Wake up now!
Neal nodded but he was too tired, slumping to the ground as the vision changed from his friend to someone else looking down at him. A stranger was crouched over him, something black and shiny in their hands.
"Jarrell told me to tell you good-bye, Mr. Caffrey."
The man had auburn hair cut short, sunglasses to hide his eyes and he could just make out the weapon was a Luger. He tried to speak but couldn't, his voice not coming to him as it stuck in his throat, his chest tight.
"This ends here."
The assassin pointed the gun at him, pressing it to his forehead as he felt something wet and warm dripping down his temple. He was losing consciousness, the cool metal of the barrel felt oddly comfortable against his temple. He was going to die but his friends would live. They'd be safe. He heard the cocking of the weapon and waited, eyes closed for the shot that would free everyone and send him to Kate.
There was a loud report just before he passed out. He felt no pain which surprised him but he did hear voices. Maybe it was hopeful but he thought he heard Peter. Maybe Mozzie. Was that Diana in the background? He faded away thinking at least he knew his friends were safe.
Neal...
Someone was calling him but he was dead. Nobody could call him.
Neal... can he hear us?
He felt cold, achingly cold. He shivered in the darkness but there was no light. He thought he felt a light touch on his forehead... his cheek.
Neal... wake up.
He started to feel something although the coldness stuck with him. It was like rising out of the ocean's depths, his lungs aching for air, his eyes longing to open up and see the light. He could see it sparkling above him just beyond...
"Neal... His eyes moved. Hey... can you hear me. Neal?"
Someone was talking to him but he didn't recognize the voice right away. He felt a bit off, the darkness stealing all his memories and thoughts till suddenly he found himself looking up into two soft brown eyes. Someone was staring down at him, a smile curving their lips.
"Hey sleepy head."
He tried to sit up but his body ached and the figure gently pushed him back. He gave a groan, his head feeling like it had been split open. He reached up to feel at his temple finding a bandage there.
"They said it's just a mild concussion. You lucked out."
The man was still speaking with him, brown eyes full of emotion and something else: relief. He felt confused about things. Who was Neal? Why...
"Peter?"
The name left his lips but he wasn't sure what it meant. He saw the man nod back at him, a concerned look on his face. Something was wrong. His memories fuzzy but things were coming back.
"You're... Peter? Who..."
He was still uncertain what to think as he lay there, his eyes taking in the scenery. He was in a plain room, a hospital room as he realized he was surrounded by monitors and an IV stuck out of his arm.
"May I should call the doctor. He wanted to know when you woke up."
The man reached to push a button at the side of the bed. He watched him curiously before he had a kind of flash of memory.
You make a difference... You really do.
The man with the brown eyes, he had said that to him. Peter had said it. Who was he? How did they know each other? His mind felt blank, the slate wiped but for a few smeared lines he was trying to decipher. Who was Neal?
"Dr. Monroe. I'm glad you came. He's awake but he's confused."
The man with brown eyes... Peter? spoke to another man with salt and peppery hair in scrubs. The doctor smiled softly, approaching the bed and holding out his hand.
"How are you feeling, Mr. Caffrey? We were worried about you there for a moment."
He looked at the man curiously, uncertain exactly what was going on.
"Who's Caffrey? Where am I?"
His head was hurting a bit more, throbbing where he had felt the bandages as he closed his eyes and tried to fight off a feeling of nausea. Someone grasped his wrist in their hand and he felt a gentle hand checking his pulse, lightly placing a stethoscope against his chest. He opened his eyes again and the doctor was holding a small penlight.
"Follow the light, Mr. Caffrey. Ok?"
He felt himself nod although he still wondered who this Caffrey person was. His vision was blurring in and out as he followed the beam of light and saw the doctor frown slightly.
"His eyes are less dilated but that concussion may have affected his memory."
The doctor was talking quietly to the man with brown eyes, Peter. His mind felt fuzzy again as he closed his eyes and started to pass out.
It will likely return but not sure when. There was no swelling when he was brought in or fracture. He was lucky the bullet hit where it did and bounced off. Your partner was very lucky, Agent Burke.
He heard the voices as he faded into the cool darkness, his whole body beginning to feel like he was floating on air as he fell deeper...
I always said he was hard headed. At least this is finally over. Thank you for staying with us Dr. Monroe. I appreciate everything you've done for us.
()()()
Mozzie had stayed behind, hiding in the shadows nearby with the car as he watched Neal walk towards the prison and his death. It was foolish to try and dissuade the younger man from his task, knowing how foolhardy and stubborn he was. The little guy finally gave in and picked up his cell, making a quick phone call.
"Jones. FBI."
He took a deep breath and finally spoke.
"Junior Suit? I need to talk to your boss. It's about Neal."
He heard silence a moment and maybe a hint of whispering in the background as someone covered the receiver. He felt a nervous twinge but worked through it for Neal's sake.
"This is his friend? Haversham? You know where Neal is?"
Mozzie suddenly had cold feet but he had to do this.
"Just tell him to go to the SuperMax. Jarrell. He'll understand. You have to come now."
He heard Jones start to retort when he hung up and tossed the phone aside. Mozzie hated to do it but Neal was going to get himself killed and as much as he knew why the young con was doing it, it wasn't worth getting killed over.
It was barely an hour later that he saw Neal walk back out. The young man looked like he was deep in thought, in turmoil over something when it happened. The young man took a few steps before his head whipped back as if he'd been socked or slapped and he collapsed to the ground. Mozzie was ready to go in but someone walked quickly forward, dragging the young man a few feet out of sight of the guard house and behind the fence. All he could do was watch helplessly as the hit man pressed a gun against the forehead of his friend.
Suddenly he heard a loud report, jumping in the car where he sat. He watched in horror, thinking his friend was dead till he saw the Suits rush in, the hit man collapsing across the hurt con. There was confusion as people swarmed the site, Suits of all kinds controlling the situation, Mozz trying to figure out what had happened to his friend as he remained out of sight.
He was both relieved and frightened when he saw the ambulance. Was there going to be a sheeted figure? There was! He paled, watching the figure carried away till he saw the second one, a familiar one without a sheet over them except to keep them warm. It was Neal. He was wounded and alive. He noticed Junior and Lady Suits there too but no sign of the head Suit. Maybe they were still in hiding?
Then he saw him... Suit was there, coming out of a dark blue sedan with the blue and red light still flashing on top. He was hobbling towards the ambulance but quickly, Lady Suit and Junior Suit waving him towards them. Mozzie smiled, glad to see someone was there for Neal when he couldn't be. He put the car in gear and would have taken off but for one thing. Someone was looking at him. He saw the Suit stare around then find him in the darkness. It was creepy that he had found him but they only stared at each other, an understanding between them as Mozzie nodded and took off without being seen.
(earlier...)
Peter was surprised when El's phone buzzed. They had been trying to figure out where Neal went, Jones, Hughes and Diana contacted but no sign of the con after the initial call. Ariel had tried to call her phone after Peter's suggestion but it was said to be out of service. He knew why but didn't say anything to her but mentioned it to Jones. They hadn't been able to track it but for a brief signal not too far from the facility which hadn't panned out but for the broken phone. It was an abandoned bus stop but no signs as to which direction Neal had gone or who had picked him up although Peter thought it had to have been Mozzie.
He picked up the phone and listened.
"Burke... what? He did? When? I want to be there. I don't care what Hughes thinks... I need to be there!"
El woke up, his voice louder than he had meant as he apologized but kept talking.
"Yes... I'll catch a ride with one of the agents here. Thanks for the heads up." Peter hung up the phone, standing as he moved to find something to wear. Elizabeth gazed at him as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"Honey, Peter dear... what's going on? Where are you going?" She was watching him hobble around the room, Peter pulling on a pair of jeans with some effort and a tee as he turned to answer her.
"Neal... they found Neal. I told Jones I'd meet them there. Mozzie called. He was worried Neal was going to get himself killed. He went to see Jarrell at the prison. I don't know why he keeps doing this." He cursed under his breath, pulling on a button up shirt over the tee as Elizabeth walked over and helped him finish dressing.
"You know how Neal is. He was worried about us. Neal thinks everything that happened was his fault and he wanted to protect us. Protect you. He's reckless and impulsive but he cares deeply for you, Peter." She was staring at him with an eyebrow arched that made him calm down a bit.
"Fine. I won't chew him out till we're alone but he's not going to get away with this again. I... He's my friend and he needs to understand that I don't want to put in paperwork on him if he gets himself killed." He felt too emotional to say what he really meant but El knew, kissing him on the lips and hugging him.
"Be careful, Peter."
()()()
It was a short drive to the prison which was not as far from the facility they were staying at as he thought. Peter sat in the passenger seat wringing his hands and trying to think of things to say to Neal that didn't involve curses and yelling. El had told him to be firm but kind. Neal had only been thinking of them when he did this stupid as it was but his heart was in the right place.
They had scarcely arrived to find flashing lights and more Feds already at the scene. There was something going on, an ambulance driving past quickly, sirens wailing as Peter peered out the window anxiously. His gut was telling him something bad had happened.
"Park up here. Quickly!" He saw the agent driving nod, parking the car off the side of two other sedans with flashing lights as he watched two EMTs carry a stretcher with a covered form. Peter felt a twinge in his chest, opening the door and running over. He heard the agent calling to him as he ignored them and ran forward. Someone else called his name.
"Peter! Over here!" It was Jones, Diana close by as she crouched near a figure two more EMTs were placing on a stretcher. Peter turned his head from the covered form to his fellow agents and looked down at what they were staring at.
"Neal?"
The young man lay there, eyes semi-open as he seemed to stare blankly ahead. Diana was holding the young man's hand and he seemed to be grasping it back but was unmoving.
"Is he?"
Peter crouched beside the figure but saw them shake their heads, the EMTs finishing up as they started to carry the limp figure towards another Ambulance. Jones shook his head.
"He was hit across the temple but is otherwise ok. Just happened so fast when we got here. You know his friend called us in." Jones looked upset, his hands covered in blood which Peter realized was Neal's. He must have been covering the wound to stop the bleeding. The agent looked around, curious of something when he saw the glint across the road in the bushes. He could just make out a figure in the dark with glasses but he didn't say anything, both of them making eye contact a moment before he saw the hidden vehicle disappear in the confusion.
"Mozzie..." He smiled slightly, glad the little guy had trusted them enough to call. He turned to see the EMTs about to close up when he grabbed the door.
"I want to ride with him. He's my responsibility." The EMT looked at him and then Jones, the latter nodded, the medic letting Peter in before the doors shut and he watched Jones and Diana disappear with the red and blue flashing lights.
()()()
Neal's mind was confused. He slept as he tried to make sense of everything that flashed before his fuzzy brain.
My husband has tried to help you but you keep lying to him. You're on your own on this one.
Someone familiar spoke, his mind trying to recall who it was. She felt like someone he trusted, his thoughts scattering when he tried to concentrate.
You make a difference. You really do.
This was another voice he knew he should know. A man's voice. It sounded like one he'd heard recently, his brow furrowing in his sleep as he tried to remember where.
Images flashed past like a movie being fast forwarded, his mind trying to process all the images as they paraded before him. He reached towards one, but they would pass too quickly for him to grasp for very long. He saw places, a terrace with a beautiful view of the city and an older woman standing there with him. A balding man with glasses was drinking wine. He started to think he knew all of these people... these places.
Another home showed up. A small house between several others on a long block. He was inside looking around a homey room with a kitchen in the back and stairs leading up to a room and bathroom. It all felt familiar as the images began to solidify and coalesce into something more obvious.
Neal... He wants something. Something you stole.
She spoke, her long dark hair and blue eyes staring soulfully at him. He ran towards her, she was entering a plane and then...
KAAATE!
He was screaming... crying out as the heat and blast hit him. He tried to run towards her, fire and flame burning hotly. Someone held him back as he tried to run into the fire but they held him, talking to him. Slowly he felt comfort despite the pain and sadness. The persons he'd seen had helped him, the man... Peter... Agent Burke. He furrowed his brow again trying to recall. The memories were hitting him harder, sticking now.
You're under my custody. You run you come back for good. Understand?
Peter... the man who had been there when he woke up. His custodian, friend and partner.
Peter... danger. He felt a panic wash over him as he fought to escape the darkness and wake up. He had been trying to save his friends. Someone was trying to kill them. Threatening them...
Neal opened his eyes, staring around the bland room, eyes taking it all in before he finally turned his head and found a figure asleep in the chair beside him. It was Peter. He looked down to see that the agent had his hand on his arm, his grip firm but loose enough to indicate he had fallen asleep. Neal shifted slightly, his head aching somewhat but he didn't care. He placed his hand around Peter's and squeezed, the agent snorting slightly as he started to wake up. Brown eyes were suddenly looking up at him.
"Sorry... must have dozed off. Neal?" Peter sat up, rubbing the sleep from his face as he looked at the younger man surprised. Neal nodded, regretting the action as he head ached. He gave a low groan, Peter on his feet immediately, checking on him.
"You ok? How does your head feel?" Peter was reaching for the nurse call, sitting back down as he patted the young man on the hand.
"It hurts... but I'll... live." Neal croaked, leaning back heavily against the pillow and mattress. His head was still throbbing quite a bit. Peter seemed to notice, patting him on the shoulder to comfort him.
"Doctor will be here soon. He said you had a concussion from the shot but nothing else. Your head's harder than I thought." Peter gently mussed his hair, Neal too tired to complain but it felt comforting. They heard the door open and Dr. Monroe stood there.
"Agent Burke... Mr. Caffrey... How are you feeling today?" The doctor wore jeans and a black and gray sweater under his white lab coat. Looked like he had just come in or on his day off. Neal glanced up to see Peter making a motion towards his head, the doctor nodding.
"Your head bothering you?" The doctor had pulled out a small penlight as he moved closer and made a motion towards the side of the bed. He slowly lifted the bed so Neal was sitting up a bit more, Peter helping as Dr. Monroe sat on the edge.
"Ok Neal... just stare at the light and follow it with your eyes."
Neal nodded slightly as he followed the light, his vision blurring a bit.
"Hmmm... his eyes are still a bit dilated but I can't see anything wrong with his reflexes other than they're a bit slower. Could be some minor swelling. I'll get the MRI and CAT scans ready. I just want to be sure nothing's wrong.