Author's Note: Oh….I hate this chapter. It's so short…..Oh well. Hope you enjoy it anyway.

Pleads and Postcards

In his office, Peter sat brooding about the day's events. Officer Brown had disappeared. Whether that meant he had already killed Constance or not was a missing piece of the puzzle. A very daunting piece that needed to be found. No matter how bad the news, it would have been better than no news at all.

Both Peter and Neal knew how fast the clock was ticking now. They had revealed to the kidnapper that they were on the trail. It had spooked him. Spooked people on the run usually made snap decisions. Snap decisions such as killing a useless hostage. Those kinds of decisions caused trouble for everyone. His accomplice had told them everything he knew, but it wasn't enough. Nevertheless, Wallace wasn't going to be seeing his wife and daughters anytime soon. Not unless it was through a Plexiglas screen.

Neal had gone to get some air after nearly choking Wallace to death. Every tendril of his self-control had been spent during the interrogation. But when the guard had been escorted out, he had told them that he thought the government owned people like Cassie and Neal. The agent had ignored it. He was used it by now. A suspect would continuously change their stance on the situation plying for the sympathy of each party. Neal, however, wasn't having any of it. It had taken both Jones and Peter to pull the consultant back and the man had still left with a rough spot around his neck. In a quiet voice, Peter had asked his partner to take a break. Meanwhile he continued searching for any sign of Officer Brown's whereabouts.

A familiar melody started playing. Stress, at first, convinced Peter that it was all in his head. He thought he had officially lost his mind. Only when he felt the vibrations of the table did he realize that it was his phone. Picking up the silver shape, he saw that it was an unknown number. Honestly, he hated answering unknown number calls. They usually were useless and a waste of his time. However, there was always the chance that it was someone who really needed him.

"Hello?"

"Is this Agent Peter Burke?"

Instantly, the man sat up a little straighter in his chair. The fuzzy feeling of sleep that had been entering his mind vanished and he was able to think clearly again. Expectantly, he looked through the glass to see if Neal had returned. He could never mistake the deviously innocent, honey-filled voice. No matter how hoarse it sounded.

"Constance," he breathed.

On the other end of the line, the young adult chuckled weakly. It seemed that even Peter was worried about her.

"Hey," she replied, her voice almost a whisper.

Her sweaty hands clenched tightly to her kidnapper's phone. These wonderful people in her life, they were making her plan so much harder to carry out. The agent finally found the ability to talk again.

"Where are you?" he inquired.

Peter heard the tell-tale sound of a sob as the girl choked it back.

"I don't know," was the grief stricken response.

Agent Burke was standing up now. Maybe if he got down to the tech department fast enough, he could get a trace. As if the universe had realized his plant and decided against it, Constance let in a sudden intake of breath. Standing at the glass doors by now, the agent froze.

"What's wrong?"

"He's back," she answered, the fear rising in her hoarse voice, "I don't have much time. I need you to give a message to Neal,"

Peter groaned. This was heading in all the wrong directions. Codes, messages, they were just too much. Neal had probably had enough of them with Kate. All they did was bring bad news. He pressed the down button on the elevator.

"Just stay on the line, I'm going to get a trace on the phone,"

Constance heard him, but ignored the plea. She did not have the time to wait.

"Tell him 'Don't play the game',"

The realization that the teen was ending the phone call settled on Peter. He stopped breathing, his heart twisting in his chest. There was an almost tired sigh from the girl.

"And Peter?" she began

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," she paused, "For everything,"

Without giving him a chance to respond, the connection was lost. At the same moment, Peter looked p to see that his partner was walking out of the elevator. Instantly, Neal's face was overcome with worry.

"What is it?" he asked his friend who was just now putting his phone away.

Peter looked up, meeting the blue eyes cautiously.

"Constance called,"

Hope beamed across the younger man's face making the agent feel even worse for being the bearer of bad news. Quietly, the agent relayed the message that the consultant's sister had left for him.

In horror, Peter watched as all the color drained from Neal's face leaving him whiter than Santa's beard after a blizzard. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, fear beating in the consultant's heart.

"What does it mean?" Peter finally asked, worried about this new development and the obviously terrible reaction it had on Neal.

The consultant shook his head, his hand against his temple. "Trouble,"