Chapter Twenty-five

Peter jolted awake with the vague haze of a nightmare clouding his thoughts. Staring up at an unfamiliar white ceiling poured adrenaline into his blood. Disoriented he was having trouble remembering which events over the past few days were real and what was just imagined and if he was still in trouble now or not. Before he could decide whether or not violent action or at least panic was warranted Neal appeared in his vision upside down looking at him with a look of concern. It took Peter a second to figure out that Neal was letting him use his lap as a pillow causing the odd angle that he was looking down at him. Seeing Peter was awake Neal smiled at him.

"Good morning," Neal greeted "or rather afternoon."

"What's going on?"

"You fell asleep."

"What?" Peter turned his head enough to look at the empty hospital room that he was starting to remember. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I tried. You were out like a light. I even had one of the nurses come in an check on you. The consensus was that it was best to let you sleep. It's only been a few hours."

"We don't have time for this." Peter growled as he sat up despite his body's protests.

"Peter…"

Peter ignored Neal's attempts to get him to relax and worked to try and get to his feet. Stiff from having been on the floor Peter had far more trouble getting up than he felt he should be having. Unable to really push against the floor with either hand without pain didn't help, nor did the fact that pain lanced down his shins when he tried to get to his knees. Neal got up and circled around Peter so that he could reach down and brace his hands behind Peter's elbows. Neal leaned back while Peter leaned forward and he was able to use Neal as a counter weight to pull himself up. It didn't take more than a few seconds for his feet to start bothering him, but he was determined to ignore it.

"Thank you."

"Come on, I'll take you home." Neal offered.

"No. Someone has Alistair spooked enough to ask me for help and I have to figure out who it is."

"Peter I will admit that Alistair looked scared, but if he was really worried about some employer coming after him why didn't he just give you a name?"

"Because he knows me." Peter admitted. "He's not going to incriminate himself by giving any names when he knows he doesn't have to."

"He just has to point you in the right direction and you'll do the rest of the work?"

Peter just nodded.

"I admire his faith in you, but it kinda pisses me off at the same time."

"You and me both." Peter managed a slight smile.

"He's not wrong though." Neal pointed out.

"I'm okay with that." Peter said seriously. "So first things first…"

"First things first is that you need to get some rest."

"I'm fine."

"Peter..."

"I said I'm okay, Neal." Peter said more firmly. "What banks did he have you hit?"

"Ridgewood Savings, First Republic, and Safra National." Neal gave in.

"Anything in particular stand out about the buildings?"

"No, but I was fairly distracted at the time. Do they mean anything to you?"

"Not immediately, but with Alistair involved we are most likely dealing with organized crime of some description. Let's do a drive by, see if anything stands out."

"Alright," Neal agreed knowing that argument was pointless "but I get to drive."

Peter ignored Neal's concerned look and headed towards the door. Once in the hall Peter hesitated with which direction to turn in. There was probably a way out that didn't involve walking past Alistair's room. However it wasn't immediately obvious so Peter made a quick decision to just leave the way they came. Peter couldn't help glancing over at Alistair. Catching sight of him Alistair raised his arm and waved, revealing that he was no longer wearing the cuffs that had tethered him to the bed before. There was a man in a fine cut suit in the room with Alistair that Peter assumed was a lawyer. Alistair wouldn't need a low level public defender, there would be plenty of high priced lawyers willing to take his case against the FBI for unlawful use of force for a cut of the profits.

"We could only hold him without formal charges for so long." Peter explained unnecessarily. "Not that he's medically stable enough to go anywhere."

"In that case we should let the Agents guarding him go home, let nature take its course." Neal suggested hopefully.

"He's still part of WitSec and an attempt was made on his life because of us. He has full rights to FBI protection."

"Even as he sues you?"

"Innocent until proven guilty, Neal."

"Then let's go prove it."

Peter smiled, proud that Neal hadn't used the opening to bring up the idea of planting evidence against Alistair. It hadn't been hard to guess that Neal wanted to get one of Alistair's prints to place on his gun to tie him to the crime and secure a conviction. Neal had a tendency to believe that two wrongs could make a right. Peter felt that if he could convince Neal otherwise that it would go a long way towards actually rehabilitating him for the day that his anklet came off. He hoped by making himself clear that even in a case as personal and extreme as Alistair's that all of the laws and rules still applied that Neal might learn by example. What Peter would never admit to was how tempting it was to let Neal take care of Alistair his way.

"Peter?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You automatically followed me this far lost in thought, but I think you're going to have to focus to take the next step."

Peter hadn't even realized that he'd let Neal lead him back to the elevators. Just like before he'd become frozen at the threshold. He ground his teeth in frustration at how easily he had lost awareness of his surroundings. It was dangerous to become distracted and if he was ready to be honest with himself he'd tell Neal to drive him home. Fearing the case was too important and determined to prove to himself that he was still capable Peter ironically pushed his better judgement aside. Stepping onto the elevator he forced an outward calm despite the fact that his blood was running cold while his skin prickled with heat at being in the tight space.

"That seemed easier." Neal noted encouragingly as they stepped off.

"It was." Peter lied.

Neal gave Peter a brief suspicious look, but he didn't challenge him. Peter was just grateful to make it to the car before he started limping too noticeably. Without making any comment Neal opened the passenger side for Peter before looping around to the driver's side. With the Percocet fully worked out of his system it was increasingly painful to touch anything. Pulling the door closed didn't take nearly as much force as opening it and he appreciated Neal allowing him to do at least that much for himself.

"Are you sure I can't talk you into going home?" Neal asked.

"Neal…" Peter growled.

"Got it, first stop Ridgewood Savings."

Peter did his best to stay alert as Neal drove through the busy city streets towards the first bank on the list. Once they got there Neal parked across the street to give them a good view of the building without actually having to get out. The glass skyscrapper didn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary. New York had plenty of beautifully designed buildings, but it also had its fair share of bland mirror finished monstrosities that looked just like one another.

"All three are relatively close to one another, right?" Peter asked.

"Within a square mile."

"Okay, let's look at the others before we bother going inside any of them."

"Yeah, I'm not all that comfortable with the idea of just walking into these banks just yet. I was not well disguised."

"I'm surprised Alistair let you disguise yourself at all."

"I think it's only because he knew how difficult it would have been for me to have kept from getting caught before he was done with me if my face was known. I already had FBI and US Marshalls after me for cutting my anklet, adding every cop in the city on my tail for armed robbery would not have ended well."

"Probably not."

"I felt ridiculous." Neal chuckled. "The papers were calling me 'The Bank Bunny' the next day."

"What?"

"I had a white rabbit mask on."

"Run, Rabbit, Run…" Peter mused to himself.

"Alistair quoted that at me."

"The rabbit theme was intentional, you were being used to taunt someone."

"Mission accomplished I guess." Neal shrugged. "Any thoughts on who?"

"Not really." Peter sighed in frustration. "Let's take a quick look at the other two."

Neal pulled back out into traffic and headed over to First Republic before heading to Safra National. The other banks were also located on the ground floors of towering buildings, but so were most of the banks in New York. Being inch for inch some of the most heavily used real estate in the world meant that you had to build straight up in most cases and building often held multiple businesses. Sitting in the car Peter stared up at the mirror finish of the windows on Safra National. The stone building across the street had a warp reflection in the glass giving the building a little more of an interesting look than the other two, however the building stood out to him for another reason. Having remembered this one brought back the ten year old memories of the other two.

"I can't believe I didn't connect these sooner…although it wasn't Safra back then, it was First Federal Credit, and it wasn't Ridgewood it was a Barclays branch." Peter rambled more to himself than Neal. "It's been ten years, but Mafia families love their tradition, I bet they are still in there."

"Peter?" Neal asked hoping he'd include him in the conversation.

"I've gotten search warrants on all three of these buildings," Peter continued still not making much sense to Neal. "I was part of the team that searched this one…I had hoped he'd be here, but it was already too late, the warrants took too long to come in, and we were just wasting more time."

"Peter, I don't know what you're talking about. Who were you looking for?"

"Alistair, I was looking for Alistair."

The days searching for Alistair had been a blur, tainted with the guilt of responsibility for him being lost in the first place. Peter shook his head to clear it, having become momentarily distracted once more by bad memories of the past. Neal was looking at him in confusion. With the pain in his hands and feet suddenly bothering him more Peter had to pour a lot of his focus into just making himself understood. He hadn't even realized that beyond knowing that Alistair was a past CI of his Neal didn't really know any of the story. Going over the broad strokes of the events Peter explained to Neal how Alistair had posed as a member of the Lassard family in his efforts to gain rank in the Scapine racket by using the FBI to bring down the Lassards, and how he had bolted when things went wrong.

"We knew he was in danger from both families, we all felt the Scapine's would deal with him themselves so we concentrated our efforts there. Unfortunately they handed him over to the Lassards. We had arrested and killed a significant number of the Lassard mafia members in the raid, in fact they never reformed as an organized crime group, but the few who were left took their revenge out on Alistair brutally. We came here first because the Scapine family owns floors in all three of the buildings with the banks that you robbed. They like having banks on the ground floor because it's an added layer of security that they don't have to pay for."

"But that security can backfire, if they were in the building when the bank was hit the whole building would be put on lock down until the FBI could do a sweep."

"Exactly. By hitting those three banks in such quick succession you basically locked down a majority of the Scapine mafia for several hours."

"That would seriously cut down their ability to respond to an attack on another one of their locations."

"The Scapine's have plenty of enemies and despite Alistair's intel being ten years old a lot of it would still be good." Peter added. "When one mafia makes a move against another one unless there is blood in the streets or civilians caught in the cross fire the war goes pretty much unnoticed and unreported to law enforcement."

"Okay then, problem solved. We can breath easier and you can get some rest." Neal smiled. "I bet Elizabeth had cooked an entire banquet by now, and yes, I'd love an invitation to dinner. All I've had today is that coffee earlier and I doubt you've had much more than that."

"Neal…"

"Peter, if this was a coordinated attack of one mafia on another then everything would have to have been perfectly timed and orchestrated. It's been two days, whatever further plans Alistair had for me at the request of any third party is long past its expiration date. Right?"

"Most likely." Peter was forced to agree.

"You've only been pushing yourself so hard to solve this because you thought I was still in danger, and I'm not. You need to go home. Are you even allowed to be investigating right now?"

"No one has officially put me on medical leave."

"I think it was a given." Neal rolled his eyes.

"I couldn't investigate Alistair himself even if I was still on active duty." Peter added heavily. "As much as I love for us to find a way to prove his guilt, legally we can't. I'm too close to the case."

"The rest of the team is working on that." Neal assured. "I know it's not really in your nature, but you need to take care of yourself for now. Don't let Alistair win by driving yourself into the ground."

"I am starving."

"Then it's settled."

Neal didn't give Peter any more room to argue as he started the drive back towards Peter's house. It hadn't escaped Neal's attention how distracted Peter had been and how difficult it was for him to focus. Even just sitting in the car his chest was heaving with each labored breath. Peter kept shifting his position in obvious discomfort. As much as he wanted to deny the ordeal he'd been through the physical toll was catching up with him. Neal had been willing to follow his instincts on a threat this far, but Peter's health was not good enough to continue without a break.

Reaching Peter's house Neal was not disappointed in Elizabeth's need to cook in her own attempt to cope with her own stress. Once home Peter had apologized to her multiple times about having being gone most of the day. Neal was amazed by how well she accepted Peter's mix of dedication to the job and general stubbornness, not every spouse would be so understanding.

Neal hadn't expected to stay long, but before he knew it hours had passed. Despite his previous fatigue Peter had found some sort of second wind during dinner. Neal wasn't sure if it was a show for Elizabeth's sake or if he truly just felt better now that he was back home. Neal did find it encouraging that for at least a few hours the three of them were able to enjoy a somewhat domestic scene. Eventually Peter had started to look like he was getting close to passing out again. Exhausted himself Neal finally excused himself, hopeful that Peter would be too tired for nightmares.

Peter had protested the idea of Neal going back to his apartment at first, but Neal really wanted to sleep in his own bed and after he pointed out that the surveillance team was still outside his place Peter had agreed. It was close to eleven at night and Peter had checked in on the surveillance team before Neal left, but they reported that there hadn't been any suspicious activity since the protection detail had left earlier that morning.

Neal was honestly convinced that the only real danger left was Alistair, so much so that when he stepped into his apartment and found someone waiting for him he wasn't entire convinced that he wasn't just hallucinating the intruder. Standing by the kitchen able enjoying the apartment's view was a man in his late forties wearing a perfectly tailored navy blue suit with a blood red tie. Neal had made it a few feet into the apartment before he'd even noticed him. The man turned to face him with a bright smile. Although initially too stunned to react when the stranger took a step closer Neal instantly backed up only to bump into someone both several inches taller and broader than he was. The other man had been standing against the wall besides the door and had stepped behind Neal while he'd been distracted by the other man.

"Mr. Caffrey, it's an honor to meet you." The man with the red tie greeted warmly as if he was an expected guest.

"Likewise I'm sure, Mr…"

"Lassard." He supplied. "Victor Lassard."

"Oh." Neal replied surprised both at the name and the way he freely gave it. "I…uh…was expecting you to give me a pseudonym like 'Wolf' or 'Pink' or something."

"No need for that," Lassard smiled "we're all criminals here."

"Point taken. How can I help you?" Neal asked politely in hopes of keeping the unusual meeting civil even though he feared it wasn't going to end that way.

"It's not how you can help me, it's how we can help each other." Lassard assured. "I came to make you an offer."

"Let me guess," Neal glanced nervously at the strongman "one I can't refuse?"

"You can absolutely refuse it…but I don't think you will." Lassard said confidently. "It involves Alistair Price and some rather damning evidence I have against him for the kidnapping and torture of a Federal Agent. Are you interested in hearing me out?"

"You certainly have my attention…"