a/n: I am no expert on the criminal justice system and resources on FBI procedure are quite hard to come by for some reason... so please forgive me my crime drama level knowledge of warrants.

"Am I done?" Peter asked as the doctor putting the finishing touches on his arm sat back to admire her handiwork.

"Yes, Agent Burke," she said with barely concealed irritation, "you're done. You can go now."

Peter jumped down from the exam table and went looking for his coat. It took him a moment to remember he'd handed it off to one of his agents at the scene in the park. Also missing was most of his left sleeve. The paramedics had cut that off to get at the bullet graze on his arm. A bullet graze an exhausted looking medic named Envy had told him needed stitches and should be looked over at the hospital. He'd tried to get them to just put a bandage on it for now and let him worry about it later, but they'd guilt tripped him into going.

"Envy needs the practice," the one named Allie had said. "Think of your wife, Agent Burke. What would she think if we let you go and this needed stitches?"

Well Peter couldn't argue with that logic. Nor risk the wrath of Elizabeth. So he'd agreed.

And good thing too, he thought to himself as he gathered up the plastic bag he'd been given for his belongings. He stormed out of the room as quickly as possible and right into the room next door. The only reason the hospital staff let him do it was because of the woman parked on the bed inside. Diana looked up at him from behind her bandaged and scraped face.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she promised.

Even so, Peter approached the side of her bed, eyeing the bandage warily.

"I'm serious. I even have the CT scan to prove it. I'm just waiting for them to discharge me."

"What the heck happened, Diana?"

"Whoever was in that black sedan tried to mow me down, that's what happened. He didn't of course, just sent me face first into the pavement before chasing off after you."

Peter decided in that moment that he was entirely done with his agents being sent to the hospital. "Alright. That's it. Everyone gets a protection detail from now on. Even Jones."

Diana seemed ready to argue, though not entirely surprised. "Is that really necessary?"

Peter held up his arm. The white bandage encircling his upper bicep was all the proof that he needed.

"Jones is just going to love that," Diana muttered, seeming to imply she included herself as a part of that sarcastic love but not having the guts to say it outloud.

"There have been too many close calls today. I'm not taking any more chances."

Matter settled, Peter set his clear plastic bag of belongings onto a chair and fished the folder Mozzie had given him out of its depths. The file he had not let out of his sight, even as the paramedics were assessing his arm in the back of their ambulance.

"Peter, anyone ever tell you shouldn't take work home with you?" Diana ribbed him and Peter smirked.

"You'll change your tune once I tell you what this is."

He handed the file over to his agent, before starting to go over all the details of his meeting with Mozzie and their subsequent shootout. Mozzie had escaped unscathed, thank heavens.

"Do you think it's enough?" Diana asked him when he finished,

"It's got to be."

"Peter, don't get me wrong, I'm just playing devil's advocate here, but won't they question this if it came from someone other than the FBI?"

"That's where this comes in handy," he said, pulling out the thumb drive Mozzie had managed to pass him before disappearing from the crime scene unseen. The conman really was telling the truth when he said he'd do everything in his power to get to the bottom of Neal's disappearance. Including helping the FBI, a government institution he detested and distrusted, take down the man responsible.

"This is real proof, Diana. A digital paper trail proving Leech paid Jeramiah Park and Spencer Abrams a lot of money two days before they tried to kidnap Neal."

This was, of course, assuming Mozzie hadn't pulled a fast one on him somehow. Peter hadn't had time to plug the device into a computer to make sure the information was actually on it. He had half a mind to ask if he could borrow one of the hospital's computers, but he was already enough of a Persona Non Grata around here, what with his demand that they empty an entire psych ward to keep Jones safe, and then his rather rude requests to his doctor that she hurry up with his stitches already. A call to Elizabeth to let her know what happened and let her know it was all ok, had calmed him down a bit, but he was still on edge. Getting shot at could do that to a man.

"Add that to my testimony, and I'd say you've got this one in the bag," a familiar voice said from behind them and Peter spun around to find a wheelchair bound Jones being pushed through an opening in the curtain.

"I may or may not have called him to let him know we were here," Diana admitted when Peter glanced back at her from over his shoulder.

He shook Jones' hand, adding a hand to his agent's shoulder to show just how happy he actually was to see him.

"They spring you already?"

"Just now," Jones said, pointing to the annoyed looking orderly who was still behind him.

"Well take him from here, thanks," Peter informed the man. The orderly didn't seem to want to argue or stick around and left without comment.

Jones shot Peter an 'I owe you' look.

"I take it you are starting to remember what happened on the bridge?" he asked once they were all alone again. Jones' face was no longer wrapped in white. He had graduated to small squares of gauze taped to the skin and a few butterfly bandages. The bruising was as vivid and ugly as ever, but those would fade. He looked more like himself than he had in days.

"Diana's been keeping me in the loop." Peter wasn't surprised. "I recognized Spencer and Park almost immediately. They were on that bridge with us, and they were not there to help me and Neal after the accident. They were there to kidnap him and to kill me, though I'm still not clear on why that didn't happen."

"Neal gave them quite a run for their money," Peter said. Quite literally for Park. Rather unfortunately for Spencer.

"So I heard. It was all over the news. They were calling him the Brooklyn Bridge Jumper. Caffrey's gonna hate that when he finds out."

"Of course he is," Diana snickered from her gurney.

"I'll tell whoever needs to hear it about what I saw, Boss," Jones continued, determination jutting out his jaw. "Caffrey was not running."

Jones didn't have much to add about what Peter already knew happened on the bridge, but he was able to corroborate some of the facts he was only guessing at. His statement would also be key in clearing Neal's name so that when they found him - and they would find him - and brought him home, there would be absolutely no strings attached. No room for another bureaucrat like Leech to strongarm their way in and try to say that Neal was somehow at fault for all this.

"So what's our next move boss?" Diana asked.

"We finish up here, get the protection details sorted and then Diana, I need you back at the office working with the accountants on the info Mozzie gave us," Peter answered.

"Protection detail," Jones questioned, raising an eyebrow then wincing when it apparently pulled on his stitches.

"Jeremiah Park is still out there and I don't trust Leech not to send him after us all again. It's happening. Get used to it."

"You think it was him outside Rosa's?" Diana asked.

Peter nodded "And with me in the park, I'm sure of it."

They had given him some painkillers but the wound on his arm still throbbed for a moment as Peter thought back on his near miss. If Park had been any better of a shot, then he'd be dead right now.

"What are you going to do?" The question again came from Diana.

"I gotta go see a judge about a warrant."

It was funny the doors that started opening to Peter once word got out that he was looking into Robert Leech, or that he was talking to a federal judge about a warrant. There would be only one reason for that. He had enough evidence for one. It didn't matter the judge had yet to sign off, Peter's phone at work was lit up like a Christmas tree. Every person, every office that had stonewalled him in the beginning was practically breaking down his door with offers of help. They all wanted to know what he had on Leech, but Peter was playing it close to the vest and refusing to talk. Not even with promises of unending loyalty and favors for the rest of his days with the Bureau. Not even Hughes knew what Mozzie had dug up, and Peter was going to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Scrolling through a list of DC flights on his computer screen, Peter tried to find the one that would get him there the fastest. It was the most expensive one of course, but he'd pay it, even if the Bureau refused to reimburse him. He couldn't risk Leech catching wind of what he was up to and making some counter move. Though that hope seemed to be fading fast with each call he got from people higher and higher up the FBI food chain. Word was spreading. It didn't matter though. The evidence Mozzie had procured for them had been vetted and confirmed by Peter's own forensic techs. All he was waiting on was the warrant. Even if he didn't get it before he touched down in DC, there was still enough to confront Leech with and make him squirm. A cornered animal was a stupid animal and Peter couldn't wait to put that man in a corner and watch him squirm. He just had to make sure to tread lightly. Leech might well be the only one who knew where Neal was being kept.

His CI was still alive. Peter just knew it. If Neal were dead, then surely he would have felt it. The light in the world would have dimmed somehow. Leech had gone awfully big lengths to try and convince Peter that it had happened already, but it was all just games. Smoke and mirrors. The pieces on the chessboard being moved around again in a clever feint, but never into checkmate.

A knock sounded at the door, pulling Peter's focus away from the flights.

"I know you're busy Boss," Diana apologized, poking her head in, "but we just located one of the Marshals who drove Caffrey to the prison."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I just got the call from Hendrickson."

Peter liked Hendrickson. He was a hard worker. A little on the quiet side, but a good agent all the same. And one with a knack for getting the truth out of art thieves and guilty investment bankers. A corruption case like this was right up his alley.

"What did he say?"

"Not much. He got the guy to admit that his partner had bribed him with a case of beer to get lost while he dropped Caffrey off. Apparently his partner was sweet on some lady in Intake and he claims he figured that was the reason he wanted him gone."

"And did he have an excuse for not returning any of our calls?" Peter asked.

"Claims he was on a bender with his brother upstate and didn't get any of them until today. I guess his buddy made good on the bribe."

"And the other one?"

"They're still looking."

"Ok, this should be enough for the prison to finally release it's surveillance to us. I need you to go down there and give 'em hell Diana. I want to know if they have any footage of Caffrey from the time he arrived at Rikers and when he disappeared."

"I figured you were going to say that. I'll see if I can get them to send it over electronically first."

"If they won't, maybe take Reed with you when you go? I want her to get a little more experience in the field."

"I like her, too," Diana said, apparently reading his mind, though Peter wasn't sure he ever would have come out and said it quite as buntly. "She's got a good head on her shoulders."

"Exactly what I was thinking."

"You got it boss," Diana said before leaving.

It wasn't much to go on, but at least Peter now knew Neal really had made it all the way to Rikers. He went back to his flight list, his mind distracted. There were still so many whys. Why had Leech done it? Why Neal? Why take him? His best bet was getting on a plane so he could find out from the man himself. Go directly to the source.

If only there weren't so many interruptions.

"Burke?" Hughes greeted, sticking his head in through Peter's door much the same way Diana just had, proving the point.

Peter did not look away from his flights. He had one all picked out. A redeye that would get him to DC by morning. He'd have to forgo sleep, but he could always catch a few winks on the plane… "What's up? I'm right in the middle of booking a flight to DC."

"To confront Leech?" Hughes guessed, but Peter wasn't about to answer that question. "Well, if that's the case, then you can stop."

Peter blinked up at his boss' form darkening the doorway. Even if he was about to get the news he suspected - that the judge had been too scared of Leech to sign off on the warrant - he was ready with his rebuttal on how he could still make this work.

"Robert Leech didn't show up at the office today. I got them to send a car over to his house, but he wasn't there. He's missing."

Peter felt all the color drain from his face. "Do you think he's running?"

He was trying to decide which was worse, no warrant yet or a Robert Leech who was in the wind.

Hughes shrugged. "I think it might be a little too early to tell, but my gut is telling me otherwise."

Peter thought about it. "I should still fly out there."

"Would it do any good?" The director asked him.

"Depending on the answer I get from Judge Hayden, it might."

"I suspected as much," Hughes replied, massaging the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "Alright, book your flight. The DOJ isn't going to be happy about this, but I frankly don't care anymore."

Hughes left him then to do just that, but a text on his phone interrupted before he could hit the button to book. He expected it to be from Elizabeth. She was angry with him for not coming straight home after his trip to the hospital, but he'd just been too anxious to find out what the forensic accountants had found on Mozzie's drive. He'd spoken with her again briefly, brought her up to speed, and she'd agreed to get an overnight bag ready for his trip. Her only stipulation was that Peter must stop off at home to pick it up first. A stipulation he was all too happy to comply with. He picked up his phone from where it lay face down on his blotter, ready to read some sweet little note of encouragement from his wife. What he got was a photo from an anonymous number that nearly made him drop his phone.

Peter was up and out of his seat in a blink of an eye. "You two, get in here. I need you. Now."

Diana and Reed both dropped what they were doing and rushed up the stairs. Something in his tone must have tipped them off that something was wrong.

"Peter, what is it?" Diana asked as soon as she saw his face.

"How long would it take our techs to figure out where a text was sent from?" he asked instead of answered.

"Our guys in the building? I don't know, an hour maybe, depending where it came from," Diana replied, but Peter could tell it was only a guess. "The guys downtown? Probably as long as it took you to hand over the phone."

"There isn't time to get this over to the lab." Peter turned to Reed. "I need you to take my phone downstairs and have them get started on it right away. No stops."

He handed the phone to his agent, the photo still up on the screen. Both Reed and Diana stared down at it with the same shock and disgust Peter had felt when he first opened the text.

The picture was of Neal. Though no version of Neal Peter had ever seen before. His face was bloody and broken and he was lying in a heap on the floor, both eyes swollen shut and a pool of blood beneath his head. The simple text had come in after.

I would think very carefully about your next move.

There was no doubt in Peter's mind on who had sent him that text. It was Leech and he knew Peter was on to him. So he'd played the boldest move of them all. He'd cleared the board of all its pieces, putting Peter into checkmate in the process. It was now an impossible situation. Stand down and do nothing, and Neal would likely die in whatever place they were holding him. Or make a move despite Leech's warning, and risk Neal being killed anyways.

Peter needed help. He needed to call in all the cavalry at once so they could run this case into the ground until it split wide open and revealed its secrets. He needed Mozzie and Diana, Reed and even Jones, Don and his wife. They were running out of time. Neal was running out of time and Peter was either going to find him and bring him home safe, or run himself into the ground tracking down every single person who'd had a hand in getting Neal into this mess. From Jeremiah Park, to all the FBI and DOJ bureaucrats who had stonewalled him from the beginning. To anyone who had accused Neal of being a murderer, a fleeing suspect, or an escaped inmate. He would make each and every one of them pay. And he would start with Robert Leech.