Chapter 25 [New York-LuthorCorp Regional Offices—7 AM Next Morning]

[A/N: Okay…yes…as one of those guys who's a crossover addict, I'm bringing in the big guns to take out Lie Boy. If you haven't watched White Collar, you should. That FBI group belongs to USA Network and its copyright holders.]

Sol burned away Night's dark with red fire. Humidity teased Storm's approach later that day. As such, a few joggers hustled their laps through Central Park. Errands sped through to their inevitable conclusions.

And for some matters, they'd be resolved sooner rather than later…..

[Outside of the Building]

A white van lingered not fifty feet from the building. Just across the street, two dark sedans accompanied it on its night-long vigil. Information buzzed back and forth between the Bureau, the NYPD and those vehicles. Warrants appeared about twenty minutes before that.

It was time for a take down….

A medium built man reviewed the document in front of himself. After being rousted from his bed around 10:30 the night before, Surliness weighed on him. He and his agents had grilled Octavius at the NYPD's 12th Precinct. During the morning's wee hours, he'd obtained a warrant for phone records. About 3:30, he established the connection between Lionel Luthor and Octavius.

Harboring a fugitive, transporting a murderer across state lines, a potential stolen art piece in his office and an act of domestic terrorism to boot.

Finally…finally…

He frowned at the lukewarm department coffee. "Really need to do something with that."

"I offered that cappuccino earlier, Peter," a voice chirped in his earpiece.

Peter rolled his eyes. "This is an official stakeout not a coffee break. We do have to keep things on the up and up." He suffered through another gulp of the old coffee.

"Whatever you say, Boss." An African-American female agent smirked. Mischief sparked in her eyes. "Caffrey has a point."

"See? Even Diana agrees with me," Neal chimed back in.

"Let's wrap this one up. We've been waiting to take Lionel Luthor down for a long time. We get the arrest then we celebrate," Peter reminded the others.

"And don't forget about that Renoir in his office, Agent Burke."

Peter sighed. "No I don't plan to. Just remember, Sara, it's evidence. After that, Sterling Bosch gets it back."

"Glad to hear it. One does need priorities. Just need to remind Neal of that. We wouldn't want that painting vanishing again. Now would we?" Sara jabbed.

"Now why would that happen?" Neal coughed.

"Why indeed?" Peter chuckled. He knew his Criminal Informant was more than capable of fencing such a piece right under the Bureau's nose. Of course, he wasn't about to let Temptation have any sway over Neal in that matter.

"Just keep that in mind, Junior." Sara needled.

"Ouch! Burn!" Diana cracked.

"Peter…"

"Don't look at me. You're the art thief. You made your own bed." Peter allowed himself a smile at that comment. "Just keep him in line, Sara."

"That's what I do best," Sara chimed; Glee very evidently flavoring her tone.

"Hey, Peter. We're on. Target's on the elevator going up to his office," another agent cut in.

"Seal all exits. Nobody gets in or out without my say so. Thanks, Jones." Peter signed off. "All right, Everyone. We're on. Let's get this guy!" He and Diana charged out of the van.

From a second car, a slender red haired woman strutted across the street. Behind her, a dark-haired man in a pin-striped dark suit, a white dress shirt and a distinctive fedora kept pace.

An African American man in a blue suit held the door. "He should be there by now. Everything good?"

"Of course. I'm not giving Luthor any wiggle room on this one." Peter patted the warrant in his blazer pocket. He walked up to the security officer and held out his credentials. "Peter Burke, FBI. These are Agents Berrigan and Jones. They're with us."

"Sara Ellis, Sterling Bosch Insurance." Sara held up her own ID. Her eyebrow arched. Dare flashed in her eyes almost baiting the hulking guard to try something.

"Mr. Luthor's…." the guard stammered.

"Not here? You sure you want to go there? I know he is. I just want your boss. Get in our way and I'll charge you with obstruction. Don't try me." Peter pulled out his handcuffs. Threat lit up his eyes.

The guard looked at the assembled agents. Maybe he feared Lionel. He didn't want to run up against the US Government on the other hand. "Okay." He pressed the button. "Go on, Agent Burke."

"Smart move." Peter led the others toward the elevator. He pressed the call button. He motioned for the others to step back.

The doors opened slowly. Despite Caution's foreboding, no gas or other booby traps went off inside of the car.

"Move in!" Peter directed. He led the others inside and headed upstairs.

Little they all suspect the scene already unfolding up there….

[Fifteen Minutes Earlier]

Lionel stormed into his office. His eyes narrowed. Frustration ate at Resolve. As with many others around the country, he heard of the Talon stand off through the local news. Octavius' call infuriated him adding his denial of legal counsel to his former lackey. He locked the door. Then he turned on his computer and waited.

It hummed, beeped and went into its start up dance.

I have to get these briefs deleted! I… He moved his finger across the pad.

Typical Lie Boy! Still screwin' 'round. AINT'CHA?

Lionel looked around. Chill stabbed into his spine. "DUBOIS!"

The Child stepped out of the shadows. His left eye glinted emerald. "Why na'?" Satisfaction spread an almost wicked smirk across his face. "Missed ya at Picture Place. Mashed Fat Boy."

"You have no proof! I…" Lionel reached into his blazer. His fingers fished around in his pocket. "My phone! Where is my…?"

"AWWW!" The Child tsked. "Witchie Poo's back there! Thanks to ya! STOOPID! Ya don' care! Ya ne'er care!"

Lionel glowered. "Lillian favored you! I NEVER DID! You worthless, gutless PUNK!"

"Gutless? AH'M CLEANIN' UP YER MESS, BUTTWIPE!" The Child glanced toward the door. "Yer wife, mah family, Peg…gy…ALL DEAD CUZ A YA! Miri-Ma lost CUZ A YA! NO MORE! NO MORE!" He spat on the carpet.

The elevator outside dinged. The sound of the doors opening echoed into the office.

"My security will rid me of you!" Lionel seethed.

"Let 'em try! Ah surviv'd Puritan Boy, Witchie Poo an' Painty Face! They ain't gonna mess w' me!" The Child frowned.

"FBI! Open the doors!" Peter bellowed through the locked oak doors.

"Oh sucks to be you!" Sarcasm curled the Dark One's mouth. "The Great Napoleon…." As the door splintered open, he melted away into the shadows once more. SUFFER, LIE BOY!

Lionel went for the computer once again. The insult burned at his ears from across the time.

The teenager then…the older man now…both from that relic and the connected failure….

The door broke open. Peter rushed in. "Don't even think it, Mr. Luthor! Special Agent Burke, FBI!" He raised his pistol. "Step away from the computer and keep your hands up! You're under arrest."

"Agent Burke." Lionel stepped away from the computer and desk. "I trust you have a warrant? If not…"

"Oh I have one all right." Peter waved it in the air. He set it on the desk. "Jones, take this computer to tech ops! I want the files."

"I'll be out within the hour! You can't hold me!" Lionel protested.

"Even if we didn't have enough evidence, you were good enough to leave your phone out in the hall." Jones showed it in his gloved hand. "And it was open right to your call history."

"And with that, we can arrest you, Mr. Luthor. Octavius called you. You admitted to your collaboration in that conversation from the precinct's phone. He also talked to you from the Talon yesterday morning. So we've got you on harboring a fugitive, aiding and abetting said fugitive's flight across state lines, intent to steal corporate secrets from your son's company, aiding and abetting a murderer and accessory to a terrorist act. Give me a minute, I'll think of something else." Peter glanced over his shoulder. "Ms. Ellis, is that your Renoir?"

"Don't you touch that! I bought it legally!" Lionel snapped.

Sara raised an eyebrow. "We'll see, Mr. Luthor." She put on a pair of gloves. Then she gently took it from the hook on the wall. "What do you think, Neal?"

Neal sighed. "Let's open her up." He dismantled the frame. He laid the original artwork on its backing and onto the desk. He eyeballed every trend, loop, pattern and expression. No bit of color or shading escaped his experienced eye. "Yeah. This is the real 'Arche d' Manolin' all right." He shook his head.

"You had your eye on that too. Didn't you?" Diana considered Neal.

"I sure did. Alex and Mozzie didn't think it would work." Neal shrugged. "You have it now."

"All the better for you that we do." Peter raised an almost parental finger to shake at the CI. "Roll it up. We'll bring it with us."

What might have been. Neal frowned. The inner thief craved the challenge. He'd cased the Louvre in order to steal that painting. Another fence got it first.

"Can't win 'em all. Can you?" Sara rubbed his arm. "You won your share of them."

"I supposedly won," Neal reminded her. He rolled up the artwork and set it into a tube.

"Yeah like I'm supposedly waiting for 'St. Paul and the Dragon'." Expectation glowered in Sara's eyes. "I'm not going anywhere until I get it, Caffrey." She grinned. Her lips whispered across his cheek. "Remember that."

"Yeah I know." Neal hefted the poster tube. "Maybe I get breakfast though?"

"Mmm…I'm game for that, Caffrey. Make it good and I might spend the day." Sara suggested.

"Might as well, Pal. You're not going anywhere with your anklet." Peter turned Lionel around. "Lionel Luthor, you have the right to remain silent…." He kept going with the Miranda mantra. "Let's go!"

They marched Lionel out of the office and into the elevator. They rode the car down to the lobby. Then they led the arrested industrialist out the front door and toward the waiting vehicles.

Despite the hour, reporters swarmed the front door. They pressed in on the agents and their prisoner. Questions flew. Cameras flashed.

"Get them back! Who called them? Dammit!" Peter complained. "Diana! Jones! Keep them back!"

"Right, Boss!" Diana led them through the forming mob and toward the car.

As this was going on, Lionel caught the Child smirking at him. Vengeance's burning laughter chafed at his ears.

Celebration ran high in the air after all….