Disclaimer: same as Chapter 1
Author's notes:
- Happy New Year 2012, everybody! May all your wishes come true!
- "The Last of the Mohicans" is a novel by James Fenimore Cooper (1789 – 1851), first published in 1826.
- Albrecht Dürer (1471 – 1528) was a German painter, printmaker, engraver, mathematician and theorist.
- Arsène Lupin, the gentleman thief, is a fictional character created by French writer Maurice Leblanc (1864 – 1941).
- Details about Narcissistic personality disorder come from Wikipedia.
Chapter 12: the hawk-eyed man
Peter was stunned; his gaze was rived on Reese Hughes, Director of the White Collar Crime Unit who was wrapped in his usual raincoat and standing right in the middle of the Pit, looking severely at his agents as if he was evaluating their behavior in a crisis situation. Apparently satisfied by their professionalism, Hughes briefly glanced at the debris of the Socrates statue strewing the floor, and then he darted a look at Neal. The young man cringed, visibly ill at ease and Peter wondered what the Hell was going on. Neal was one of the most courageous men he had ever met and yet he was behaving like a shy schoolboy being asked to recite in front of the class.
Sure, Hughes was an impressive figure: white receding hair, angular features and unblinking blue eyes gave him the appearance of a hawk, plus his habit to lean on the mezzanine's railing when calling for someone, acting like a bird of prey leaning on a tree branch seconds before swooping on a prey – hence the nickname the Harvard Squad had bestowed him, "Hawkeye" from the "Last of the Mohicans" book. Some agents from other units would call him a lot worse but not straight to his face. Hughes had too many years at the F.B.I. under his belt and knew too many secrets to be snubbed on or put aside, besides, it could be dangerous! But Neal was a "free electron", a particle of dust dancing in the sunlight regardless of gravity and he had never submitted to anyone's authority, including Hughes'. So why was he behaving so strangely, was it because he feared his recent knocking-out of Stone would put him in trouble?
Peter's eyes flashed in anger at the thought; no way would he let Neal take the heat for fighting off a madman and he was ready to defend the young man at all costs. The Marshalls wouldn't slap the cuffs on Neal for a self-defense move – he had saved Peter's life in the process, for crying out loud, as well as Taylor's and all the people in the Unit!
Peter was getting ready to speak on his friend's behalf but Hughes simply sighed, looking suddenly older than usual as he distractedly pushed the remains of plaster Socrates with the tip of his shoes, as if he had been freed from a heavy burden from his shoulders. Then he raised his head and his unforgiving gaze fell on Peter, and then on Neal:
"Burke, Caffrey, in the conference room. At once."
And, without adding another word, the Director headed for the large room next to Peter's office, shrugging his raincoat off his shoulders on the go. He stopped for an instant at Stone's desk, opened its right-side drawer and took out a small item before slipping it in his suit's pocket. Hughes movement had been too quick to make out what he had taken but Peter thought it suspiciously looked like a notebook.
Neal tossed aside the piece of paper he had wanted to use to collect what was left of Socrates; somehow, he got the feeling that they were to endure a very long meeting and the mess would be cleaned up when they would get out of the conference room… He turned about to climb the flight of stairs as well but Peter's hand on his arm stopped him short.
"What?"
"Neal, what is going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"You are willingly going to a meeting with Hughes?" asked Peter incredulously. "I could have sworn that it was the kind of thing you want to avoid at all costs!"
"In normal circumstances, Peter, yes I'd rather not find myself arguing in front of Ol' Hawkeye, but Stone has made a bit of trouble and I am not only talking about his recent histrionics with a gun. He has created quite a poisonous situation and I am glad it is over, especially without casualties among the team. Thus, I am both looking and not looking forward to this meeting with Hughes."
"Why?"
"On the positive side, it will clear up a lot of things that had happened in the office these past few weeks. The negative side, however, is something I dread…"
"Like what? You fear to be sent back to jail?"
"No, that you might be crossed at me."
This time, Peter felt his lower jaw hit the floor: Neal was concerned about his reaction? The con man with the infernal charm and dazzling smile, who had never given a second thought about the consequences of his actions, was suddenly worried about his partner being angry? It really felt as if the Earth had a major hiccup and was turning upside down on its axis but before the older man could ask another question, Neal gently took him by the arm and whispered:
"Please, come with me to the conference room. I'll explain everything and so will Hughes, but I don't want to have a discussion in front of the other guys."
Peter couldn't do anything but move towards the stairs. His puzzlement gave him an iron-like determination to get the bottom of the story and, judging by his frown and his brisk pace as he climbed up the steps, he wouldn't relent before he had obtained all the answers from Hughes and his C.I.. Neal was suddenly aware that the Pit was quieter than usual and he saw Jones, Diana, Price and the others were all looking directly at him. The young man realized they were actually worried about him, like smashing a statue in the face of a deranged agent would make him win a free trip to a maximum-security prison. Neal took a look around and smiled gently around before saying:
"All will go fine, guys."
"You keep your chin up, okay, my man?" said Jones.
The ex-SEAL and the ex-convict exchanged a high-five before Neal climbed the stairs in a solemn silence.
In the conference room, Hughes had taken the President's place, namely he was occupying the chair at the far end of the dark, shiny table. Peter was seated next to him on the left side of the table, just below the whiteboard. When Neal entered, he realized he was expected to seat in front of Peter, drawing a triangle to keep confidential information within. But Neal Caffrey was anything but conventional so he deliberately chose to seat on the window's ledge, crossing his legs in the lotus position. Peter's frown deepened at the young man's ill-timed demonstration of individuality but Hughes cleared his throat, reminding him of more important matters.
"Leave it, Burke. After all the good work Caffrey had done, we can tolerate his unusual way to attend a meeting."
"With all due respect, Sir, what are you talking about? Neal had indeed done a good job, especially on the Anderson painting and the Caulfield fraud but I have a feeling that something else is at hand."
"Indeed, there is. And Caffrey was in the middle of it."
"Then why in the world wasn't I informed?" roared Peter in a rare display of anger. "I'm Neal's handler, he's my responsibility and you didn't bother to tell me he had been assigned to another case? Why have I been left out in the cold? And for God's sake, how can all this be linked with Stone?"
"Burke, sit down!"
"We all know what happened when another agent forced Neal to work for him or her! Rice sold him to gangsters for a worthless promise and he almost got killed! And now you're saying that you've thrown him to the lions again?"
"Peter, please! Listen to Hughes!" pleaded the con man.
"Neal is not a pawn to be sacrificed!" thundered Peter.
Hughes' brow furrowed, which was an infallible sign of imminent anger. The atmosphere was turning explosive and Neal stood up, desperate to save the situation at all costs. He had survived Stone and his murdering rampage; that was enough excitement for one day and the last thing he needed was watching Peter getting in trouble for talking back at his superior. So he filled his lungs with oxygen and shouted at the top of his voice:
"I'M GONNA GO TO THE MET AND STEAL THE "VIRGIN AND CHILD WITH A PEAR" ENGRAVING BY DÜRER!"
That produced the expected results: Peter's harangue was cut short like with a sickle and Hughes' hawkish eyes widened in surprise. Both men turned their heads towards the young man, who added in a calmer tone:
"Just kidding, but I need you both to calm down so the three of us can get out of this meeting without jumping at each other's throat. Peter, will you please let Hughes speak? He'll tell you the whole story, trust me. The episode with Stone has been a harrowing experience, we're all tired and upset but we need a fight between ourselves like we need the building to burst into flames!"
Hughes' frown deepened and Neal feared he may have overstepped his bounds one time too many, but the Director merely leaned against the back on his chair, looking a bit abashed.
"It has come to something, when F.B.I. agents are reminded of their duty by a master forger," said Hughes.
"Alleged master forger," automatically corrected Neal, "and I'm not presumptuous enough to remind you of anything. You guys know your job; I'm only a consultant."
"You're an asset to the unit, Neal," said Peter, prompting the young man to blush slightly. He tried to hide his embarrassment by lowering his face while sitting back on the window's ledge but the two other men couldn't help but notice the faint rush of blood on Neal's handsome face and it would have been comical if not for the rocky start of the meeting.
"Okay, now back to business," said Hughes with a no-nonsense tone. "Burke, I want you to listen to what I've got to say and to listen good before you react. The matter with Stone started a few weeks ago; I called him to my office after he had messed with the paperwork on the Serano case, do you remember this incident?"
Peter nodded; this case had been a difficult one and Stone's negligence had complicated the matter even more. Rafael Serano, a baggage employee at the JFK airport, had been accused of stealing priceless gold pieces from Israel and destined for an exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum. The coins were part of Israel's National Treasure and dated from the first century B.C., but some of them had been found in Serano' locker. The man had claimed his innocence but, with evidences pointing towards him, it had looked like a lost cause until Peter and Neal had found out the coins had been counterfeit. A thorough examination of the JFK luggage manager's bank accounts had brought new light to the investigation and Serano's deportation to Israel had been stopped just in time. However, lateness caused by Stone's botched paperwork had almost condemned an innocent man to a long stay in an Israeli jail, awaiting his trial.
"Yes, I remember it quite vividly."
"Well, I convoked Stone in my office to scold him about his oversight and he remained deaf to everything I said. He kept on saying that filing up forms was an activity "unworthy" of him and he deserved to work with the best man of the F.B.I. In the end, I told him he had a snowball's chance in Hell to ever work in the field and he sniggered, saying that he who laughs last laugh the best. I was completely put off by his attitude and I was getting ready to launch disciplinary actions against him but something held me back… Like a hunch or something telling me that Stone's problem wasn't just insolence, but a lot worse."
"What was it?"
"I couldn't put my finger on it at the moment, but something was nagging me and it was impossible to ignore it. So one evening, after everybody at the Unit had gone home, I stayed behind to search Stone's desk drawers."
Peter's eyes widened at those words: searching the desk of an F.B.I. agent was indeed a grave action that could be only be done on the grounds of suspicion of an act of treachery and approved by an authorization delivered by the top executives.
"Yes, Burke, I acted illegally but I had to know so I forced a drawer's lock to find out what Stone was up to."
"Call the press! Hughes is an amateur burglar!" said Neal, trying to lighten up the mood.
"Caffrey!" growled the said Director.
"Please continue, Director Arsène Lupin!"
Hughes sighed heavily in exasperation, but carried on with his story: "The drawer's content was a mess, as expected, but after a few minutes I found a notebook tucked under an old box of staples. Curiosity killed the cat but I die hard, so I took out that notebook to take a peek inside… God, it was terrible."
"What do you mean, Sir?" asked Peter.
Hughes pulled out from his jacket's pocket the item he had taken previously in Stone's desk: indeed, it was a notebook – a worn out, used one with a tattered blue cover. Hughes handed it to Peter and the agent, always in investigating mood, noticed many things at once; the edge was dark from being held by dirty fingers, some pages were in danger of falling from the binding and the cover felt sticky, as if someone had spilled sweetened coffee on it. Hughes gave an approving nod and Peter opened the notebook to read it.
After a few seconds, Peter's face had blanched. He couldn't believe what he was reading!
It was Stone's diary.
Impossible to be mistaken: Peter had recognized at once the former agent's squiggle. But the written words were terrifying: it was sheer madness!
"I'm going to become Burke's partner if it's the last thing I do… My place is at his side; he's the best agent of the unit and I can't waste my time teaming with the other fools. Frankly, they are all hopeless and they should be transferred to a dead-end department, like archives or procurement. Too bad there are those anti-harassment laws in the office, because I wouldn't mind taking out my gun and aim it right at Taylor's face, to teach this greenie to respect his betters…"
"Caffrey is a little creep. He lives the good life in a mansion filled with superb clothes while I strive in a hovel with a harpy wife and two useless brats. Caffrey has no right to be so lucky. He has stolen my place as Burke's partner and it's the last thing he'll ever steal. Bastard!"
"I heard Burke praising Jones' work today. That made me feels like to puke! I thought for a moment that Burke was sincere but then I remembered Jones is ex-SEAL and there is a budget meeting tomorrow; there you have it! Burke is forced to say good things about Jones because it makes him look good at budget time, but I'm sure that deep down, he despises the toy soldier as much as I do…"
"I can't write for long, I think Old Fossil Hughes is watching me… Then again, he is almost senile so he can't understand what is happening right under his nose…"
"Berrigan gets on my nerves. No matters how hard I try, she won't respect me. Disgusting rich bitch, she should earn her bread on her back like the rest of the other lesbians instead of playing F.B.I. agent! And she can't stop dandling her money in front of everyone… After I'm Burke's partner, I will make her life so hellish she'll beg to be sent back to D.C. Maybe a little round of sex in the bathrooms will make her realize who the bosses here are!"
"The whole Unit is buzzing about Caffrey saving Burke's life while they were both locked up in a safe with an air-sucking system. Jones can't shut up about Caffrey giving Burke the mini-breather so he'll have five more minutes of air while the thief was suffocating. Which just proves how stupid Jones is: if he hadn't interfered, Caffrey would have died in the safe and it would have saved me a lot of trouble…"
"Linda told me this morning to stop terrorizing the brats; I was eating breakfast. Sometimes I wish a fire would destroy the house with Linda and the kids inside, so I'd be free of them and the mortgage as well. Maybe an accident could be arranged with the boiler… Boy, would it be nice to be a childless widower!"
"Fowler has left the office today with the corrupted judge in tow; too bad he hadn't taken Caffrey as well! But Fowler made a mistake, whatever plan he elaborated must have been too complicated and it failed. A bullet in Caffrey's brains would be quicker and easier. Some guys at the Unit pretend Fowler tried to frame Burke with accusations of corruption, but I know it's a damn lie. Probably coming from Caffrey, that disgusting little creep…"
"I wanted to talk to Burke today about our future partnership but, right at the minute I came up to him, his cell phone rang: it was his wife! He answered right away and she talked her head off about meaningless things. I never had a chance to approach Burke and it's her fault. She's probably the kind of woman who hassle husbands all the time. It'll change after I'm Burke's partner: one or two good slaps in the face will teach that pest of a missus to stop annoying us at work…"
"Caffrey's girlfriend has been blown up in a plane explosion. Good riddance! The bastard is back in jail. Fantastic! The only annoying thing is, Burke is under investigation because of a deal Caffrey had supposedly concluded with Agent Fowler. What a joke! Fowler wouldn't have abased himself to make a deal with a low-life scum like Caffrey but the bigwigs have decided to launch an investigation to stay on the safe side. Oh well, just one or two days to wait and I'll come up to Burke with my proposition of partnership. Nobody knows who has blown up this plane and that's too bad: I would have sent the guy a Thank You card for kicking Caffrey and his girlfriend out of the picture. Too bad the pet hadn't been on the plane!"
"Damn it! I'm so furious I can barely see straight! Burke has gotten Caffrey out of jail and re-instated him as his partner! That can't be! Why did he do such a stupid thing? Caffrey is a good-for-nothing and I am the best, can't Burke see it? He's an intelligent man and yet he can't see what is in front of him? Caffrey must have hypnotized Burke, somehow!"
"Linda is on my case as soon as I step foot in our house, which is getting more and more disgusting every day; and she has the nerve to say it's spotless! I should tell her to get her eyesight checked but she'd probably ask for money and I'm not in the mood right now. I have to endure the show of Caffrey working at his desk where he should be behind bars. But at least it's funny to see the bastard so shaken up. He tries to put up his usual cocky front but at times his hands tremble; and he nearly cried like a girl at the office, too! So much for the so-called Caffrey nerve, it's another lie as usual. I'd love to have five minutes with him so I'd give him something to cry about, but with a little luck Caffrey will have a nervous breakdown and he'd be shipped off to max-security pretty soon…"
"It's hopeless. The pet seems to recover from the shock of losing his rest-in-pieces girlfriend, meaning he won't be sent to jail in a near future. Ok ay, it's time for action. I have waited for too long for Burke to realize Caffrey can't be his partner. I AM HIS TRUE PARTNER and I will prove it. But having Caffrey sent back to jail shouldn't be difficult; a little thievery will do the trick…"
Peter stopped reading to stare at Hughes and Neal in bemusement. The notebook dropped from his hands to land on the oval table with a soft thud.
"Yes, that was my reaction too after I've read it," said Hughes.
"And mine," added Neal.
"What? Neal… You knew about this notebook?" asked Peter.
The young man nodded and his blue eyes asked a silent question to the Director, which said:
"Go ahead, Caffrey, tell him the rest of the story."
"Peter, one evening Director Hughes came to see me at June's mansion. It was kind of awkward at first, because I thought for a moment he was going to blame me for the Fowler's fiasco and the imperilment of your career, and this kind of situation usually ends with threats of Marshalls slapping handcuffs and all the rest of it. But I was mistaken: Hughes wanted to show me Stone's notebook. After reading it, it became obvious that it was the diary of a man who is your number one fan… and has Narcissistic personality disorder, NPD for short."
"What is that?"
"It's a personality disorder where a person is excessively preoccupied with personal adequacy, power, prestige and vanity. In the case of Stone, it was a matter of becoming a celeb figure of the F.B.I., like J. Edgar Hoover or Elliot Ness."
"Holy God..."
"Yes, and to reach this goal, Stone was determined to become your partner at all costs. He was convinced an association with you will boost his career."
"But how did this crazy idea ever came to his head?" asked Peter. "Stone is an incompetent and I'd rather quit the F.B.I. than having him in my team. I never praised his work, how could I? He has no skills whatsoever; more than once I've wondered how he has managed to pass the psychological tests at Quantico. And I haven't had a partner in years, until the day I've agreed to pull you out of jail."
"Hasn't has it been the most intelligent thing you've done in your life, Peter?" asked Neal with a playful smirk.
"No, smart-mouth, it has been when I asked Elizabeth to be my wife."
"Aw, that's too bad."
"Caffrey…" started to say Hughes in a warning tone.
"Ahem! Well, anyway, after reading this notebook, Hughes and I came to the conclusion that you were in grave danger. Stone was obsessed with you and he was ready to remove all the so-called "obstacles" standing between him and a future partnership: Jones, Diana, Hughes, El, his own family and the rest of the White Collar Unit, all the persons he despises so much."
"And you, Neal," said Peter. "Stone hates your guts and he never made a mystery of it."
"Exactly, and that's what gave me the idea of a plan to neutralize him."
"What?"
"Peter, Hughes couldn't go see the executives with Stone's diary in hand since A) he got it illegally B) this notebook was circumstantial evidence at best and C) the mere whisper of an investigation would have pushed Stone over the edge and make him start a murdering rampage either at home, at the office or even in the street. Too many people were in danger because of a maniac so I told Hughes that it would be a wise move to make Stone concentrate his hate on a single person, namely me."
Peter's brown eyes hardened like a pair of Tiger stones after hearing this. Neal felt a shiver crawl up his spine as he thought that indeed, his handler was furious hearing about the plan elaborated with Hughes. But it was too late to back down and besides, Neal Caffrey could weather any kind of storm, including the one brewing inside his friend's mind.
"Yes, I did propose to be a target because I was the obvious choice: I'm your partner, I have a good life and my help is appreciated, everything Stone detests the most. It was safer for everybody to let Stone focus his attention on me; with my hard work at the office and the skyrocketing crime-solving rate, it wouldn't be long before Stone would attack me in a fit of jealousy and it would have made the perfect opportunity to kick him out of the F.B.I. Hughes approved of this plan but there was a major snag: my tracking anklet. I'm still confined within a two-mile radius and I'm ready to bet that, apart from you, there are other persons checking on my whereabouts from time to time – like OPR guys hoping to pin something on me to alleviate the accusations against Fowler the rogue. Then, Hughes agreed to be my "supervisor" and to lock his hawk-eyes on Stone. Since we are not working in the field, it made it simpler for him to watch my back. Outside work I simply stayed at June's, her mansion is a fortress with a very good burglar-proof system."
That was too much for Peter; he stood up and walked towards the window. Judging from his angry expression, Neal, still sitting on the window's ledge, feared for a brief instant that the older man was going to strangle him on the spot but Peter simply stared at the panorama outside the window, his jaw clenched so tightly it was in danger to be fissured. Neal glanced at Hughes who gave him an encouraging nod, so the younger man carried on with his story:
"Look, Peter, I don't blame you for being angry about us keeping you in the dark but truly we didn't have any choice. Stone was stalking you and it wasn't limited to writing insanities in his notebook. No, he was also watching every one of your movements, every person you talked to, every meeting you attended out of fear someone would become another "obstacle" that could compromise your future partnership. It could have been anybody, like José the cleaning guy, someone of the Harvard Squad, or even – God forbids – El if she ever got the idea to come at the office to see you! Stone was becoming a danger and it was like dealing with a mad bull during a rodeo. What's the best way to save a fallen cowboy from being trampled under the bull's hooves? Simply by sending in the clown!"
"You are not a clown; you were more the goat tied to a tree waiting for the lion to chew you up!" barked Peter. "By golly, Neal, what possessed you to do such a thing? You are still mourning Kate, you barely sleep, you're not armed and yet you agree to go on a dangerous undercover mission behind my back? Do you know what could have happened if Stone had cornered you in a corridor or… Oh, God! The incident at the men's room was part of the plan? You could have been killed!"
"No, Peter, it wasn't part of the plan," said the young man firmly. "It happened, that's all, and I rode on the tidal wave. It's the same thing with cons, you see? You may make a plan but it's always better to leave a lot of room for improvisation. Anyway, our scheme worked: it distracted Stone's attention to focus solely on me. He poured all his hate on me, leaving only disdain for his family or the Harvard Squad. That's when he tried to frame me for the first time, by stealing valuables from Jones and Diana and stashed them in my desk's drawer."
"What? Why I've never heard of this?"
"Because Hughes was staying late at the office that night and he saw Stone dropping Jones' money and Diana's gold watch in my drawer, but here again it wouldn't have been enough to confront him. Hughes' testimony wouldn't have been enough and I'm a notorious thief, do you think the F.B.I. bigwigs will launch an investigation on an Agent based on hearsay? No, so Hughes simply put the money and the watch where they belonged and he came to see me at June's with a warning: Stone was evolving from a sulking stalker to a criminal who would stop at nothing to push me out of the picture."
"Oh, my God…"
"Yeah, and Stone was pretty pissed off the next day when he realized his "great scheme" had been foiled! That's the reason why I brought muffins the next day, to discreetly celebrate his failure. But then you scolded Stone good and hard about him dragging his feet for the Anderson case's paperwork, and a week later he decided to embarrass you in front of Director Baker by destroying the Horace Pippin file just before your big meeting."
That last piece of news made Peter sit on the window's ledge, just next to Neal.
"Oh, please… Tell me this isn't true! Stone couldn't have destroyed the Pippin file just to spite me."
"Actually, Peter, it was to teach you a "lesson" for not respecting your future partner in front of the other guys in the Unit. That night I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about Kate too much so I tried to paint, but after a while I couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong at the office. So I called Hughes and begged him to go see if the Horace Pippin file was still on your desk. It took a bit of coaxing because it was past one o'clock in the morning, but finally he went and saw the file had disappeared – the only thing remaining was the empty cardboard. It didn't take us long to understand what had happened, it couldn't be a coincidence! Since I was stuck at June's, I told Hughes over the phone where to find the electronic copy of your report on your hard drive – yes, I do know your password! Hughes printed your report, made photocopies, took some new cardboard files and brought the whole lot to my place. But the sketches, photographs, postcards were gone so I spent the night surfing on the Internet to find copies – I cracked inside a few protected sites – and then I rushed to an "Open night and day" reprography center to have them printed and ready for your meeting with Director Baker. When you picked me up that morning, I had just finished sending the new files to Hughes by private messenger."
"Oh, Neal," said Peter, laying a hand on the young man's shoulder. He was genuinely sorry for having blamed his friend about being late to go to work. No wonder Neal had looked so tired recently; on top of mourning Kate's death, his friend had being working double-time to keep him safe from Stone.
"It's okay, you couldn't have known. The meeting with Baker went smoothly and she complimented you, which was the most important thing. Stone's plan had failed again but trust me it was getting difficult to obfuscate all day along about what was really going on. Hughes and I met every evening to make the point about the situation but no one knew about it, not even June, Naomi or Mozzie. You wouldn't believe the crafty tricks we used to make Hughes enter the mansion without anybody noticing it. I'll bet you've learn a thing or two about how thieves can enter buildings without raising the alarm, haven't you, Director?"
"More than I've wanted to know," confirmed Hughes.
"But why, Neal?" asked Peter, jumping on his feet. "This whole undercover thing could have cost you dearly; you had no backup, no radio and no one apart Hughes knew what was going on. Why did you put your life in the line of fire so foolishly?"
Neal got up as well, his handsome face a mask of cold determination; he locked his sapphire-like eyes on the older man's face as he answered with an unusual steel-like quality in his voice:
"Because, Agent Burke… Special Agent Peter Burke of the White Collar Crime Unit… You have my back, and I have yours!"
TBC…
