Chapter 28

'Moz, can you get me a truck?' Neal asked as the men sat in the Caffrey kitchen.

'What kind of truck?' asked Mozzie, still sipping on his wine.

'I want to move some boxes out of the warehouse at Smirle's so we can have a look at what's inside' said Neal, pointing to something on the plans that were laid out in front of them.

'So, how are you going to get them to release the boxes – and how do you know which ones to take?' Mozzie asked.

'I'm going to concentrate on the boxes that have been tampered with - and don't worry about the paperwork, I'll take care of it' Neal explained.

'Do you need signage on the truck?' asked Mozzie with that look of excitement Neal knew all too well. Mozzie loved running cons with Neal. It didn't happen nearly often enough these days and more often than not, it was in aid of the Suit... but a con was still a con and it always got Mozzie's blood pumping.

'Just some transport company's name... and make sure you get a uniform. I'll take care of getting the paperwork to the warehouse office' answered Neal.

Sara appeared from upstairs where she'd been busy putting Hope to bed. She couldn't help but notice the look of concentration on the faces of the two men – a look she knew all too well.

'I don't want to know what's going on here, right?' she asked, already knowing full well the answer.

Whenever Neal got that look of determination in his eyes, all that was left was for her to hope he would take the necessary precautions not to get caught. His eyes moved to meet hers with a look of innocence and he shrugged in response; she knew this case had gotten personal for him and that he refused to sit by idly while Janet and others were deprived of drugs that could make a difference for them.

And that, she decided, was all she needed to know.

WCWCWC

Neal arrived for 'work' early the next day and headed straight for the physical plant office in search of the form he'd need to get the suspicious boxes released. The department's secretary, a woman named Sandy was a very disorganized, seemingly overwhelmed, single mother of three and Neal had been monitoring her comings and goings all week. He checked his watch; he figured he had about ten minutes before she made an appearance – late as always. He began to leaf through the folder she kept on her desk with the various blank forms used by the physical plant department.

'Hi Manny!' he heard in the distance. Dammit, she was on time – for the first time this week.

Neal had just stepped away from her desk, form in his hand when she appeared, looking more relaxed than he'd seen her look all week.

'Good morning Tony' she said as she came in and took off her coat. 'Can I help you with anything?'

Neal gave her a killer smile. 'I thought you weren't going to be here for awhile...' he deflected; there was always a kernel of truth in any con.

She smiled at him and took a sip of the coffee she was holding in her hands. 'My ex has the kids on Wednesday nights so on Thursday mornings, I only have myself to think about...'

'Believe me, I get it. We have four kids and it's crazy in the morning at our place' Neal lied without blinking an eye.

'What's that?' she asked, pointing to the paper in Neal's hands.

'Oh, Mr. Dwyer's office called and asked us to prepare transport for some of the supplies in the warehouse' Neal said, not breaking eye contact with her.

'I can do that' she offered as she put out her hand.

'Naw, I'm good' Neal said. I'm headed to the admin offices anyway – they've got us painting again today.'

She nodded in appreciation. 'Thanks Tony! You know, it's really nice to have you on board.'

Neal gave her a self-deprecating smile. 'I like to help... whenever I can' he said – which strictly speaking was the truth.

He made his way to the employee lounge and into the bathroom, the only place he could think of where he wouldn't be disturbed while he filled out the required form and he proceeded to forge the CEO's signature with a flourish before placing the precious document in his shirt pocket.

WCWCWC

Neal had to bide his time until the first break of the morning which came shortly after 10:30. Mozzie had been on standby and Neal sent him a quick text before heading over to the warehouse where, this time, he walked right through the main doors and straight to the small office where the same two guys he'd spied earlier were sitting around playing cards.

'Good morning' Neal said, all business – somehow his killer smiles didn't have the same effect on a couple of tough dudes who were armed and potentially dangerous.

The taller of the two men, whose name Neal didn't know, was the first to speak up. 'I don't remember ever seeing you around here' he said, eyeing Neal up and down suspiciously.

Neal pointed to his name tag. 'I just started this week. Mr. Dwyer's office sent me over with this form – he wants to have some of the supplies moved to the Bronx location and a truck is coming by to collect them.'

The guy he knew as Charlie grabbed the form roughly from Neal's hands and began looking it over. It was a request for a number of boxes to be shipped out and it had the name of the company which had been scheduled to make the pickup.

Neal waited as the guard frowned, seemingly uneasy about the situation.

Right on cue, they heard a truck pull up outside and Mozzie appeared at the door in a uniform that made him look like he cleaned toilets at the YMCA for a living.

'Is this Smirle Pharmaceuticals?' he asked, playing his role to the hilt.

The two guards looked at each other; they spent entire days without entertaining a single visitor and yet, here they were, having their Texas Hold'em tournament disrupted by not one but two unexpected guests.

Mozzie waved the document he and Neal had doctored over dessert and coffee the night before.

'Let me see that' the second guard said gruffly as he took the paper from Mozzie's outstretched hand.

'Easy man, where are your manners?' Mozzie said as Neal gave him a sideways glare. The last thing they needed was to further antagonize two big guys who were packing heat.

'What is it exactly you're supposed to take?' Charlie asked while Mozzie shrugged.

'Hey, I just drive the truck' he said, shaking his head.

Neal spoke up, hoping to move things along. 'Mr. Dwyer's office explained which of the boxes had to go; I can show you' he said.

'I don't like this...' Charlie said grabbing the phone, ostensibly to call the administration office.

'Look, I was just over there and Mr. Dwyer's assistant isn't in today but if you ask me, Mr. Dwyer did not look like he was in a good mood. I wouldn't bother him if I were you but... hey, it's up to you; I'm staying out of it...' said Neal, convincingly.

Charlie hesitated for a moment and returned his eyes to the release form with the big boss' signature. The last thing they needed was to bother the head man when they had the proper documentation in their hands – they didn't give the orders, they just followed them.

He put down the phone 'Alright, Joe, go give him a hand. We sure as hell don't need any grief from the boss this morning.'

The guard and Neal made their way to the back of the warehouse followed by Mozzie who was pushing along a moving cart. Neal concentrated on a dozen or so of the boxes that he'd noticed had been opened and re-sealed. He had a feeling they didn't contain what the label claimed they did and he hoped that some of the drug components were hidden there – otherwise, he and Mozzie were on the fast track to being arrested for stealing medical supplies that would be of no use to the FBI in making their case – and he'd have Peter and Hughes to answer to.

Within ten minutes, Mozzie was driving away towards the Federal Building and Neal snuck away to call Peter.

WCWCWC

'I knew it!' Neal exclaimed as Peter and Jones finished emptying the contents of the boxes Neal had brought over.

'Good job, Neal' Peter said as he examined a small container of a drug called benzolate. It was one of the three components Smirle claimed was not available and this was damning proof that the drug shortage was a scam and that Smirle Pharmaceuticals was in on it.

'So, what now?' Neal asked, anxious to get the cancer drugs back in circulation.

'Jones' said Peter, triumphantly. 'Let's get a search warrant for that warehouse.'

WCWCWC

Tuesday came around once more and Sara prepared for her second to last trip to the chemo ward. Neal would be joining her after lunch; Peter and Diana were paying Dwyer a visit and Neal wanted a front row seat when they finally brought the CEO in for questioning.

On her last trip, Sara had chatted briefly with the pretty young woman she'd met several weeks before. Her name was Angela and she was in her mid to late twenties, engaged to be married to the attractive man who had accompanied her the first time Sara had seen her at the hospital. Angela had been understandably nervous and anxious on her first day and she had reminded Sara of herself – young, with her whole life ahead of her, yet cheated by destiny.

Sara walked in and said a friendly hello to the three other women who were in the room; she didn't know any of them by name yet but she felt that, as the veteran, it was her responsibility to show everybody the ropes. She spotted Angela sitting in one of the chairs by the window already hooked up to her IV, eyes red.

'Angela? What's wrong?' Sara asked as she took the seat next to her.

'It's Aaron... he's left me' Angela responded as she wiped a tear.

'He's left you?' Sara repeated, incredulous. How does the man you're about to marry bail on you right when you need him the most?

'He says this isn't what he signed up for' Amelia added, sniffling.

Sara's instinct was to come back with some snarky, derogative comment about the jerk but, in light of the young woman's distressed state, she thought better of it and she dialed it down to concern for the pretty young woman.

'I'm so sorry. Are you here alone today?' Sara said, taking her hand.

'My mom's flying in from Chicago but she doesn't get here until tomorrow' the young woman explained. 'She's going to stay with me until my treatments are over.'

Sara studied the young woman; life sucked and nobody deserved to have to face such a cruel fate on their own, especially at such a young age.

'I can sit with you today if you like – we can do this together, okay?' said Sara compassionately as she looked into the young woman's eyes.

Angela smiled through her tears and nodded, grateful for the support.

Sara settled in for her second to last treatment; she couldn't wait to have all this behind her once and for all - although she was grateful for the wonderful people she'd met throughout her journey, not the least of which was Janet – who was still MIA.

Within the hour, Jill arrived for what was to be her very last treatment. As happy as Sara was for her friend, she was also envious – anxious for the moment she would finally leave this nasty ritual behind.

'Hi ladies!' Jill cooed happily. 'I felt like celebrating so I brought cake for everyone' she added as she put down the cake tin on the side table.

Sara stood, pulling her IV pole along and walking over to hug her friend. 'I'm so happy for you, Jill' she said with a sad smile. '... but I can't wait for it to be my turn.'

Jill nodded in understanding; she'd felt the same way as they'd said goodbye to Grace and Clara three weeks before.

Sara had developed a friendship with all the 'chemo ladies' over the past few months but Jill had been special. She had come alone to every one of her treatments and with time, she had confided in Sara that her husband had been distant since her diagnosis and that he couldn't deal with coming with her to the hospital. Sara had spent hours chatting with Jill, listening to this terrific woman share details of her life. Jill had been looking forward to resuming her job; she hoped she'd be well enough to return to her kindergartners after the Christmas break. Her own children were older; only one of her teenagers remained at home – and she had pretty well faced this whole ordeal by herself. Sara appreciated how all the women pulled together to help each other though the rough times; although most of them had support systems at home, there was nothing like confiding in someone who was going through the same thing you were experiencing.

Neal showed up around noon and immediately spotted his wife sitting by the window, chatting with Angela. He had only briefly met the young woman and he walked up surreptitiously, not wanting to disrupt what looked like a serious discussion.

'Hi' he said, smiling at Sara and bending over to kiss the top of her head. 'Sorry I'm so late – we were just wrapping up the case...'

'That's okay, I didn't realize it was lunchtime already' said Sara. 'Neal, do you remember Angela from last time?' she asked. 'This is my husband, Neal.'

'Hi' said Neal, putting out a hand to greet her. 'You ladies must be starving. How about I go down and get you something to eat?'

Sara nodded and smiled appreciatively at Neal; despite the hardship of the last few months, he hadn't wavered once in his support of her and she realized just how lucky she was to have him by her side.

She owed it to the other women to pay it forward.

WCWCWC

After the initial, painful few days following treatment, Sara had begun to get excited. Christmas was just around the corner and she just needed to hang on for one more cycle before she could leave all this behind her for good. Snow had come and stayed and with the overwhelming publicity around the holiday season, Hope had begun to understand that there was something magical about this time of year and this jolly old man with the beard that everyone called Santa.

Sara hadn't seen Janet for a few weeks but had been in touch with her by phone and she knew that, despite the fact that the shortage of drugs had ended, Janet had decided not to go through with the last few chemo treatments. Sara feared that this did not bode well for Janet and on the last week before her final chemo, she suggested to Neal that they have Janet and Harold over for dinner.

Neal had been busy most of the day preparing a meal fit for royalty – although Harold had warned him that Janet didn't have much of an appetite these days. Maybe he could tantalize her with some of her favorites; Harold had told him that Janet loved pork loin and chocolate cake and Neal had crafted the menu to include her favorites.

The table was set in the dining room – which was only used on special occasions – and their best dishes and linen were set for their special visitors. Janet and Harold arrived at five, as arranged, and the moment she stepped into the house, Sara could see how much her friend's health had deteriorated over the past few weeks. She'd lost more weight since the last time Sara had seen her and although Janet still had that twinkle in her eye, something had died in her as evidenced by her lack of energy and the look of resignation on her face. The foursome sat and had a drink and Janet told a couple of jokes, keeping up the pretense, but as the evening wore on, the mood began to get more serious.

'Why don't you ladies go sit with Hope in the living room and let Harold and I do the clean up' Neal suggested as the last of the cake disappeared off everyone's plates – including Janet's.

'Great idea, Neal' said Harold as he stood and grabbed his plate as well as his wife's.

The men moved to the kitchen and had begun to work together in quiet harmony – with Harold rinsing and Neal putting the dishes in the dishwasher when Neal finally spoke up.

'How are you coping with everything?' he asked as he placed one of the pots in the drying rack.

'What can I say?' answered Harold. 'It's like waiting for the other shoe to drop. We both know the end is coming and part of me wants to hold on tight while the other part wants to let her go in peace without any undue suffering.'

Neal swallowed hard as he took in Harold's words. He couldn't help but admire how coherent and clear-thinking Harold was and he looked up and smiled at the man with concern and empathy. He had no idea what to say in response to such a confession. He briefly tried to imagine how he might feel knowing Sara was slipping away and he wondered how one managed to get to a peaceful place while that was happening.

'Janet and I have no regrets' continued Harold. 'That helps a lot. We've done everything we've wanted. The kids are grown up, we have our little grandson and sure... we would love more of the same, but that's not for us to decide and we're both at peace with it. I just want the last little while to be serene and peaceful for Janet, that's all...' His voice trailed off as emotion overcame him.

Neal stopped what he was doing, turning to face the older man.

'I'm so sorry you have to go through all this' Neal said soberly, noticing his voice quivering as he spoke. 'You've both touched our lives in such an amazing way.'

After a moment, Neal spoke again, sharing something that had been on his mind for a while. 'Do you remember that night we talked at the support group?'

Harold nodded.

'I always suspected you talked to Janet about how I was feeling and that she had something to do with Sara opening up to me... and I want you to know, I'll always be grateful for that.'

Harold shrugged, non committal, although Neal knew he'd hit the nail right on the head.

The sound of Hope giggling from the living room resonated in the house, breaking the somber mood.

Harold smiled in response. 'What do you say we go join our wives?'

TBC