Just follow the red dot
Peter saw Rice walk into the office from his desk. She had two team members with her, talking to them. Then she stopped in the middle of the office and clapped her hands to get their attention.
"Okay, listen up, people. For the foreseeable future, you belong to me." Peter was on his feet. "I need traffic feeds from here to Yankee Stadium." He marched out and down the stairs. She was not walking into his office taking command over his staff after what she did to Neal. No way!
"You sold him out to get in the paper!" he interrupted her. "You hung Neal out to dry for a gold star on your resume."
"You better watch it, Burke," she hissed back at him.
"When we found that coat check stub for the club, you already knew what was going down." He was up in her face now. "But you kept your mouth shut so everything could go according to plan."
"What's going on here?" Hughes asked, appearing between them.
"She made a backroom deal with Wilkes. The girl in exchange for Neal." And now he had accused her in front of everyone. If he was wrong this would cost him.
"Rice, that true?"
"A man we believe to be Wilkes contacted Gless. He said he would give Lindsay back if he could have a face-to-face with Caffrey."
"A face-to-face? And you really think Wilkes would make good on that?"
"It was our one shot to get a lead on Wilkes and follow him back to the girl."
Peter's jaw was to tight he could have grind rocks in there. Rice stood there and defended her actions. Actions she never would have taken if it had been about a real federal agent. What was worse was that she did not even understand that she had made an unacceptable deal.
"I had agents all over that street," she finished her speech.
"How did that work out?" Peter shot back at her.
"Did you get any leads on the girl? Hughes asked.
"Wilkes made the grab in our one operational blind spot," Rice replied with a sigh.
Hughes pulled his hand over his face.
"Then you're no longer in charge. Peter, you're officially part of the show," Hughes ordered. Peter saw Rice open her mouth, but his boss raised his hand. "I don't wanna hear it, Rice. You report to Burke until you find Caffrey and that girl."
Rice remained silent. Amazing, he thought.
Peter glared at her. He had never wanted to kill anyone before, but if Neal was dead because of Rice he would make sure she suffered hell for it. He turned to leave but after a few steps, he had second thoughts. Peter walked back to her.
"If Wilkes had asked for a face-to-face with me, would you have done the same?"
She glared back at him.
"Caffrey—"
"Would you have done the same if it was about me?" Peter repeated. "Or your colleague?" He gestured to the woman beside her.
"Caffrey is a convicted felon," she stated as if that made a difference.
"That does not answer my question!"
"No. I would not have done the same. It's different."
"No, it's not," Peter objected. "You used Neal because he's a warden of the state, incapable of refusing because we own him and his time. You used him because he's a criminal. But I tell you what, Rice. Neal has a contract with us. Do you know what it says? It says that he has the same protection as any agent. We don't do to him what we don't do to ourselves. Just because he's in our care, incapable of saying no. That's a responsibility, not a goddamn opportunity to use him as bait!"
He got a glare in return.
"Peter…" he heard Hughes's voice behind him. The message from the boss was clear. Leave it, and focus on the problem at hand. Yeah, he would do that. If Neal was still alive, he would do what he could to save him. It would be a long night.
When Neal became aware of his existence again it was dark. The sounds and the vibrations told him he was in a car, but he was not sitting on a seat. He was sitting on hard metal, like a floor in the back of a van. The darkness was probably a hood. As far as he could tell he was not tied up. But his head felt like it could blow up at any time.
Someone pulled off the hood and the light blinded him for a second.
"Top of the morning to you," he heard and he had a pretty clear image of who said it. "Monster headache, right? It'll pass."
Neal's eyes adjusted. A man was leaning over him. He knew who it was and it was not a man he wanted to meet.
"Wilkes." The one and only. New suit since last time. And they were indeed in the back of a moving van.
"Seeing you again, Neal, brings back all these old feelings."
A second later Wilkes' fist hit him in his guts and he doubled. The pain in his head escalated by the quick movement. Neal took a deep breath and leaned back to his former position.
"If you wanted to meet for latte, you could've called."
"This way is better," Wilkes assured him. He had sat down on a box so he was probably not about to hit him again soon. "Pretty good, right? Had the fed snip your anklet off for me. She handed you over on a platter."
Had Rice known about this? Right now, Neal did not care.
"That's great," he said. "You're a lock for kidnapper of the year."
"Mm. That old Caffrey wit," the man smiled. "I love it. We could've been something. Thunder and lighting. But then you had to rip me off for, what, 500 grand?"
"I'll write you a check."
"Normally, I kill people for that sort of thing."
"But?"
"But today is your lucky day. You get to make it up to me."
"Look, man, what about Lindsay?" Neal asked. "You got me. Just let her go."
"Not yet."
The car slowed down and came to a stop.
"I'm gonna open these doors," Wilkes said and pointed. "You run or yell, I shoot you. And then I'll shoot the girl." So that was why he would not let go of Lindsay. He knew Neal's weak spot. He gestured to the other goon in the van and the door was opened. "Let's get started."
Neal pulled his hands through his hair. Kidnapped and without anklet was the worst possible scenario. He had to find a way to contact Peter. If at least his head had not been in such pain.
Wilkes offered him a hand and he was pulled to his feet. They stepped out of the van and he found himself on a street in New York. No other place he could have been transported to could possibly look like this and the cars had American plates.
"Agency," Wilkes said and pointed across the street, "booked travel for a gentleman by the name of Thomas Loze. He's on his way into the country right now. I need his itinerary. Flight, car service, hotel… Smile. It's a chance to put that silver tongue of yours to good use."
"All this trouble to have me infiltrate a travel agency. What's your angle?" Wilkes did not say anything. He just smiled that sly smile that Neal hated. "Ah, I'm frontman. You don't end up on surveillance cameras."
"You always were quick," he said and made it sound like something bad. "One more thing. Since we have a lot to do today it's important you know how serious I am from the jump. See her?" he asked and pointed at the woman inside the agency's doors. "Her name's Kathy, career receptionist. Kind of lady no one'll miss, except a couple of her kids. On that roof is my friend, Jim." He pointed up on the rooftop of one ow the lower buildings on their side of the street. "Jim has a sniper rifle aimed at Kathy. I give him the word, bang, lights out." He picked up a communication radio. "Wave at Neal, Jim."
The man did and Neal put on a ridiculous smile and waved back.
"And don't think you can borrow her phone and call for help. Be a sweetheart. Help the lady out."
"I'll get your information, okay?" Neal assured him.
"But will I get it in two minutes?"
"You're putting me on a clock?" He did not believe what he had just heard. "I can convince her. I just need time."
"You don't have it. Busy day. One minute, 52 seconds and counting."
"All right, I'm going," he said, started moving across the street. On his way, he pulled off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He paused outside the door glancing in his image in the glass, rumbled through his hair a little. What he was doing? No time to dwell on that. At least his headache was gone.
"Hi there. How you doing?" he said, stressed but smiling to the woman by the desk.
"I'm fine." The answer did not open up to further conversation. She was busy.
"My name is Nick Halden. I'm an assistant with Level One Concierge Services."
He had her attention. She smiled and leaned across the desk.
"How can I help you, Nick Halden from Level One Concierge Services?"
"Uh, we got a big client coming to town, Thomas Loze. You booked his travel. I need to make a week's worth of five-star dinner reservations. Only I misplaced his itinerary. And I blow another account, I'm toast, so—"
"So it sounds like you need to find a new line of work," she said, still smiling.
"Come again?"
She pulled off her headset, no longer smiling at all.
"You know, people like you really piss me off. You waltz in here, you flash some sort of grin. Think you can get me to do something that would get me fired? I don't think so. But have a nice day."
She put her headset back on and returned to her work.
A red dot from a laser sight appeared on her forehead. Neal knew he had to try again or this woman would die. He saw a nametag on a keyring hanging on a pen in a cup on her desk. Good, then he had a reason to know her name.
"Please, please, Kathy. I really need this, okay?"
"I said, 'Have a nice day.'" That was frosty enough to chill a fire.
"Okay. Okay…" He walked to the door and watched the sniper. Oh, God!
"That is exactly what I'm gonna tell my son when I explain why Daddy lost his job," Neal said. He hated to play on people's bad conscious but it was that or she would be dead. "His daddy is a failure. I'm gonna level with you, Kathy," he continued and returned to her desk, looking as desperate as he felt. "I don't enjoy catering to guys who spend more on Courvoisier than I make in a year, but it's all I got. Who am I to think that I can do this job and raise a 5-year-old all by myself? I gotta tell Joey we're going back to Cedar Rapids. It'll break his heart. Kids bounce back, though. You know, they're tough."
Neal made a small prayer that the duck in yellow and black on Kathy's desk came from Iowa City. Cedar Rapids was next door.
"Cedar Rapids?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"I'm from Iowa City. U of I, '88."
"No kidding?" he smiled back at her as she was now smiling at him.
Kathy put her hand over the microphone of her headset.
"You said Thomas Loze, right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay." To Neal's relief, she began to help him.
"Thank you." He felt his pulse return to normal. But this would not be the end of it. He had to contact Peter. He glanced around and saw a sign about their reward program.
"While you're at it, I might know someone who's interested in your rewards program," he said.
"Okay," she said, pleased. "Let me just send what you need to the printer."
