Chapter Three
Taking a deep slow breath to try and clear his thoughts Peter did his best to block out the throbbing ache in his chest that flared sharply every time he moved. His torn shirt was open but his undershirt that they had just pulled down at the collar to brand him was currently sticking to the geometric wound that perfectly matched the design on the card he and Neal had received earlier in the day. Sitting on the cold concrete floor with his back up against the wall Peter spent a moment trying to piece together his broken memory, but quickly decided that he was too exhausted to make any sense out of how he and Neal had ended up in such dire straits. Despite it being August Peter shivered slightly causing a chill to race prickling goosebumps across his skin, angering the burn mark to a nearly unbearable level. The cold stone floor was sapping his body heat away faster than his stressed system could replace it, but there was nothing he could do about it.
In an attempt to keep at least one of them warm Peter had propped Neal up between his legs to help keep him up off the concrete as much as he could. Laying peacefully with his back against Peter's stomach Neal remained locked in an unnatural sleep. With his arms loosely wrapped around Neal's waist Peter kept a watchful eye out in case their captor returned or some other threat presented itself. Peter carefully pulled up on Neal's stained undershirt to separate it from the oozing wound. The left side of his chest that was swollen and a bright cherry red around the hexagon maze brand. Peter hadn't been able to see what they were doing to him at the time, but Neal had screamed under the torment until he had passed out as one of York's men exploited the raw nerves exposed by the fresh burn.
Peter had oscillated between threats and pleas but neither one of them had gained Neal any mercy. It had only taken a few minutes however it had felt like an hour before they had managed to push Neal past the point of his endurance. York had taunted Neal for losing consciousness so quickly commenting that they would have to work on strengthen his limits. With the drugs still in Neal's system combined with the stress of the violent kidnapping Peter was impressed that Neal had lasted under the torture as long as he had.
"I've never had a pair quite like you two to work with before." York had said conversationally to Peter once Neal was out. "It will be an interesting social experiment."
"York, let him go." Peter had demanded as calmly as he could mange. "This has nothing to do with Neal, this is between you and I."
"No it isn't. You don't even know me." York chuckled. "This isn't personal, Agent Burke, this is business, and Mr. Caffrey is here for the exact same reason you are. It was a nice try, but you two are very much in this together."
Peter had never assumed that York would let Neal go at this point, however his pointless demand had answered the question he had on whether or not York was someone from his own past, Neal's, or as it turned out: neither. Peter hadn't been awake to hear York talk to Neal about being a revenge proxy so learning that it was 'business' was a little confusing to Peter, but at the same time he felt that it could work to their advantage. If the risk of keeping them became greater than the profits they might be released.
"...or just left to starve." Peter sighed to himself.
With a sickening pang of claustrophobia Peter looked around the fifteen by twenty concrete room. Before he left York had his men cut the zip ties that were keeping them both bound and after a nauseating kick to Peter's stomach they had left the pair alone. Pulling off his tie that had been used as a makeshift blindfold Peter had rushed to Neal's side and pulled his blindfold off as well. Neal had pulled at the zip ties to the point of bloodying his wrists when he'd struggled against York's men torturing him. With his breath ragged and shallow Neal's heart had been racing dangerously fast at first, but given a little time and gentle touch he had calmed. Neal had fluttered his eyes open to look up at Peter with a brief flash of relieved recognition, but afterwards he had quickly passed out again.
Once Peter was sure that Neal was at least medically stable enough to be trusted to keep breathing on his own he had taken a quick look around their new situation. The room they had been brought into had a steel door on one wall and an open archway on the opposite wall. The arch way lead to a short hallway that had one door off to the right and one straight ahead. The side door was locked, the one at the end of the hall opened into a ten by ten room that had been converted into a bathroom. There was a metal sink, a medicine cabinet, a toilet and a shower that was little more than a pipe coming out of the wall over a drain.
Testing the shower to see if it actually worked Peter had been surprised to find the water was luke-warm rather than freezing cold. Doubting that it came from a water heater Peter guessed that the piping simply ran along something warm. Opening the medicine cabinet Peter had found a few basic supplies that were obviously brand new. The fact that they had been provided with a set of toothbrushes, along with access to what he hoped was clean water and a bar of soap spoke of a pre-planned extended captivity. You didn't bother with hygiene supplies if you only planed on keeping someone for a few days.
The idea of York not wanting them dead immediately or having a near deadline to execute them if demands weren't met had advantages. The longer they survived the longer their odds of rescue weren't zero, however no matter what the circumstances were rescue had its greatest success rate in the first forty-eight hours. If York was interacting with the FBI to either taunt or make demands he could still make mistakes past that forty-eight hour window. On the other hand if York had taken them with no intentions of ransom or release the FBI would only have what evidence they had from the start. In that case if they didn't figure out where they were quickly their chances of being found would drop dramatically with each passing day. Guessing that ten to fourteen hours had passed already Peter's blood flashed to ice painfully at the thought that by now Hughes would have gone to Elizabeth to let her know her husband was missing.
Elizabeth would be brave during the first forty-eight. It would be a difficult two days, but Peter had every faith that she would weather them well. If this drew out into a week or longer she wouldn't give up on him, but it would be impossible for her not to imagine the worse. A sickening pit developed in Peter's already sour stomach over the thought of never seeing Elizabeth again. The death of a loved one always left a void in your life, but when someone just disappeared it was a far more difficult separation to accept. Confirmation of death brought a closure that helped heal the wound, the uncertainty of not knowing acted more like an infection making the loss worse as time passed. Even trying to move on and accepting that they weren't coming home felt more like a betrayal when you didn't know if your loved one was somewhere in pain still holding onto the hope of seeing you again.
Peter quickly shook off the dark thoughts of never returning home, York hadn't let them see his face so that meant he was at least cautious about the idea that his captives might live to press charges. Peter reminded himself that he and Neal's chances were better than most, they had the best looking for them. They also had the added advantage that the FBI would have been alerted to the problem the moment Neal's anklet had been cut. They would also have a digital record of their movements in the moments leading up to abduction which would give the investigation a solid starting point. Even if the trail went cold the FBI did not give up easily when it came to one of their own. He and Neal just had to live long enough for their captor to make a mistake and for the FBI to capitalize on it.
Peter's attention was brought back to the present as he looked up at the damp concrete ceiling as a deep rumbling punctuated by a distant metallic squeal interrupted the near perfect silence. The sound of the subway above gave Peter a few pieces of information, the first he had already guessed by the cold damp was the fact that they were under the city. By the sound they seemed to be a good twenty to thirty feet deeper than the subway, however more important that their location the subway also gave him a sense of time. He was waiting to see if their artificial day was going to have an artificial night to go along with it, but so far the dim florescent lights had remained on. However, when he'd first taken notice of the subway it had seemed to run by every twenty to thirty minutes. Now it took closer to an hour or more meaning it was getting later at night. Depending on the line there might even come a point where it stopped running completely. Although it was somewhat comforting to hear signs of life above there was no real telling where under the city they were. The depths of New York had countless abandoned subway stations, maintenance tunnels, failed private projects, and cold war era bunkers.
Peter was distracted from the subway as Neal started to slowly surface. Whimpering in pain as he struggled between nightmare and reality Neal started to pant for breath. Peter took his arms away from around Neal's waist, not wanting him to feel like he was restrained when he finally woke. The painful branding had been a shocking way to wake for Peter the first time and resurfacing to the injury was going to be similarly difficult for Neal now. Pursing his lip Peter blew a cooling stream of air across Neal's injury to afford him some temporary relief as he came to his senses. Despite Peter's efforts Neal woke with a sharp hiss of breath across his teeth as his body reminded him what it had been through. Reaching out to one of the legs to either side of him and discovering it didn't belong to him Neal tensed as he tried to figure out his surrounds.
"It's okay, Neal, it's me." Peter assured. "You're okay."
Not trusting his voice Neal nodded slightly as he relaxed. After taking a moment to take stock in his situation Neal tried to shift his weight only to be rewarded by a sharp stab of pain. Giving up on moving Neal rested against Peter with a noise of frustration.
"Neal?"
"...ow." Neal complained.
"Deep breath."
Taking Peter's advice Neal took a deep breath and although the chest movement aggravated the burn it also helped him modulate the pain and take control of it. Managing to convince himself that it wasn't so bad Neal leaned forward carefully so that he could sit up on his own. With Neal off him Peter took the opportunity to tuck his legs under himself to get up off the concrete somewhat. His backside was numb from being in the same position on the hard floor for the past few hours but that was the least of his concerns right now. Turning around to face him Neal inspected the mark on Peter's chest with a wince of true empathy.
"How are you doing?" Neal asked concerned.
"I'm fine."
"We should have taken those cards more seriously." Neal teased pragmatically.
"York certainly has my attention now."
"Mine too." Neal licked his dry lips and looked around. "How long was I out?"
"A few hours."
"You should have woken me."
"You needed the sleep."
"You need to get some rest as well."
"Later." Peter said dismissively. "Right now we have to decide if we are going to stay put and wait for rescue that may or may not arrive or take our chances out there."
"What? Out where?"
Peter made a motion for Neal to look over his shoulder. Turning around Neal studied the steel door set in the far wall for a moment. He turned an incredulous look on Peter.
"Is it my imagination or is that door locked from our side?"
"It's not your imagination."' Peter confirmed. "I looked out earlier, it's a disused tunnel of some sort."
"Hmmmm. Seems like a fairly amateur kidnapping mistake to put the lock on the wrong side of the door."
"York is no amateur, this is not the first time he's done this."
"He did call himself a 'Revenge Proxy'." Neal agreed.
"A proxy?"
"Everything is getting outsourced these days." Neal chuckled.
Although it usually annoyed him Peter took comfort in Neal's caviler attitude to their situation. A strong sense that things were going to work out in the end was going to be important in the days to come. Putting his palm against the floor Neal pushed himself up to his feet before he offered his hand to Peter to help him up as well which Peter accepted. Once standing Peter stretched the kink out of his back before turning his attention to Neal.
"I take it you want to head out?"
"If we are going to be rats in a maze we have to at least try and find a way out."
"Agreed." Peter nodded. "If York has underestimated us we might even get lucky."
"He has definitely underestimated us." Neal smiled confidently. "He wouldn't have agreed to bring us down here in the first place if he hadn't."
