Hey guys! :) This one really took some time, I have to admit that it wasn't easy to write the action parts. So please, as always, feel free to correct all the things you think should be rephrased or whatever. I had to change one tiny detail in chapter one, so that it made sense after all. Thank you SO much for your comments, they really made me smile in joy! :) I decided to change the rating after the last comment. Do you think that's all right?
Neal felt like sitting in Keller's stupid van for ages, when the older man finally decided that they could leave the vehicle now. He had his forgery with him in a small backpack. One man was left behind, he would monitor the building and start the engine as soon as he would see them coming after the heist.
The whole group headed towards an abandoned alley, right behind the MET. It was a cold and very dark night and Neal shivered, feeling anxious and uncomfortable. He still had that nasty, undetermined feeling, that something would go wrong after all. And it took an awful lot for him to cover that he was so badly in pain, which didn't make it any better. He doubted that Keller would appreciate his participation if he knew that Neal could barely walk upright. Mozzie recognized the boys tensed expression and gently squeezed his arm while walking, throwing him an encouraging look. A little smile crossed Neals face and he managed an almost invisible reassuring nod in his friends' direction.
After a short walk the whole group reached their destination. They all knew exactly what to do, so no words were exchanged, and they remained perfectly quiet. Mozzie used his lockpick set to open a tiny picklock in under ten seconds and opened the chain-linked fence. One of Keller's gorillas then put out a crowbar and used it as a handle to break open a small iron door, that led into an old basement of an even older storage house, which in former times belonged to the main building.
The two bodyguards and Keller himself stayed behind after that, so that only Mozzie, Neal and the unknown, very tall and very thin, men went on. Neal had all the, certainly highly confidential, sketches of the building in his head and guided the group through a couple of rooms, filled with old dusty furniture and other crap. These rooms looked as if they hadn't seen a human being for at least ten years or more and the stirred-up dirt burned in their eyes, until Neal had difficulties to see anything additionally impeded by the darkened flashlights they were using.
He exhaled relieved when they finally reached the door they were looking for and entered a stairwell, which obviously wasn't in a regular use, either. They hurried upstairs and reached a slightly more modern looking door, secured by an expected alarm system. While Mozzie started to open the small box to turn it off, Neal pointed to a nearby ventilation shaft close to the ceiling and their companion offered him his hands to lift him up, so that he could slid into the terrible tight- and darkness.
His whole body screamed when he started to crawl through the narrow passage, and he struggled to stay conscious. He took a few deep breathes and clenched his teeth. He had to hurry, otherwise all this wouldn't work. When he reached the first crossing, he turned left, then right and then left again and he knew that he nearly made it.
He felt his heart racing and could hear the blood flow right beside his ears. Again, shaking a little, he opened the access to the required show room, aware that, by now, the main alarm system wouldn't work anymore, thanks to Mozzie. He looked around cautiously, but as expected the room appeared empty. The two security guards on duty were paid generously by Keller to look away, even though they didn't know where the money was coming from, only that not following the instructions wouldn't do them any good.
Neal carefully swept down on the ground, almost used to the pain running through his body afterwards and it took him five seconds till he felt able to go to the opposite wall, walking around some astonishing old and majestic looking pillars.
And there it was, Raffaels The agony in the garden. Finally. He had no time to admire the fine artwork but had to concentrate on the paintings security system. He put the backpack with his forgery next to him, the torch between his teeth and started working. When he had reached the second cable, the sweat pouring down his face again, he heard a loud crackle and shouting voices down the corridor. He turned frantically but couldn't see anything. What now? His whole future depended on the painting right in front of him, but maybe there wouldn't be a future at all if he stayed.
He decided to accelerate working a little and cracked the painting off the wall. A high pitching sound set off immediately and he started to panic. He tried to detach the painting of the frame, but his hands were shaking badly, and he couldn't control them. When he heard footsteps coming closer, he looked up desperately and decided to run.
Peter felt himself haunted by the big blue eyes and the boys soft voice and desperate words during the whole day. He couldn't concentrate on anything else. Unfortunately, there were no further traces leading to that boy, so all in all he couldn't do anything to help or to catch him. He went down to grab his fifth, terrible tasting, coffee, when Dianna Barrigan, another team member, came to him in a hurry with a piece of paper in her hand.
"Boss, we just received a phone call. A man transmitted us very specific details about a heist that is supposed to take place in the MET tonight. He sounded drunk and of course it could be a false report, but he added so many minor details, I believe this could be true."
Peter looked at her bewildered, it took him a moment to think this through. He shook his head in disbelief. "Who was that man? And why would he report something like that?", he asked doubtfully.
Dianna shrugged "He refused to tell his name. But he sounded very angry, maybe there's an open bill between him and the suspected perpetrator. Look, boss, he even pointed out WHAT they want to steal, it's a Raffael. We have to take this serious."
Peter hesitated for a short moment, but then straightened and said: "All right, go get the team Dianna and lead them straight to the meeting room. We will make sure that they won't get the chance to steal anything."
Only two hours later his whole team was sitting in their observation van, parked right in front of the MET. Another car with more backup agants was wainting around the corner. Peter hated sitting in the van. It smelled like his former changing room for PE in high school and grown up agents didn't seem to be capable to keep their places clean. There were breadcrumbs all over the desk in front of him. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, which Dianna seemed to notice. She chuckled.
"What's the matter, boss?".
He turned to her, irritated. "What? Ohh, just this mess here. You guys should really learn how to clean your workspaces."
Dianna looked at the breadcrumbs and grinned amused. "But wasn't it your deviled ham sandwich, which you ate last week, that produced that mess?"
Peter flushed ashamed and didn't know what to answer.
Fortunately, he was saved by Jones, sitting in front of a monitor right behind him, who suddenly shouted: "There is a movement. I could just see at least two people walking behind the windows, who didn't look like security guards at all."
Peter immediately informed his backup and took one last deep breathe. "Can't believe it, that guy obviously told us the truth. All right, we're going in. Let's be their party crasher."
They rushed into the entrance hall of the MET, opening the main door with an enormous crash. Peter shouted in his intimidating voice:
"FBI. Whoever is in here, stay where you are and hands where we can see them. Otherwise we won't hesitate to shoot."
He used his hands to direct his team. More than 20 agents spread out in any direction. Peter himself turned right, held his gun ready to fire and was followed by Jones, while Barrington headed left. The showroom they entered appeared to be empty, so Peter guardedly did some steps forward.
In the corner of his eyes he noticed a small movement behind a statue. He gave Jones a silent sign in the right direction and both men lined up their weapons. Peter felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety and felt his heart pounding hard against his ribs.
He yelled "Peter Burke, FBI. Come out and surrender." For a split second nothing happened. Then, very slowly, a thin, tall man in dark clothes appeared, his hands held high above his head, his expression resigned.
"Do you have any weapons with you?", Peter asked sharply. The man shook his head. "Good. On your knees now. You're under arrest.", he ordered, and the man obeyed, without saying anything.
When Jones took out his handcuffs to tie up the first burglar, Peter heard a pitching sound, coming from a room which seemed to be directly connected by a hallway with their present room.
Jones caught Peters eye and called out: "Go on boss, I can handle this one on my own!".
Peter nodded, took his chance and ran as fast as he could, crossed two different rooms and turned around a corner. On the first sight, he noticed a painting in its frame lying on the floor, next to a small backpack. Then he perceived a motion again. There, only ten meters away, someone was standing in the half-light.
He could identify a slim, young looking person, obviously shaking, who moved backwards slowly. Peter lifted his gun again, aiming at the criminals head and shouted: "FBI. Freeze!".
The young criminal in front of him winced and suddenly turned around and slipped through a nearby doorframe. Dammed, Peter cursed silently and started to chase him.
Neal couldn't believe it. FBI. How the hell could that happen? He had to fight hard against his uprising panic and tried not to think about the gun aimed at him right now.
Without even thinking about the consequences, he sprinted down the hallway and concentrated on the map in his head. He heard the footsteps behind him and tried desperately not to freak out. Fortunately, his pursuer made a not too sporty impression and fell back a little. Neal could hear him wheeze. You can do that, Neal, try to focus, it's just a bloody old Fed! He told himself and finally reached the door that led back into the stairwell. He broke through the door and took three steps at a time.
The agents voice echoed behind him: "Ohhh, come… on, … just stop… right now. This … won't lead … you anywhere. Please... give up."
Neal didn't even think about it and bursted into the first basement room. His lungs burned and he could only feel pain and fear while passing through the whole dusty basement in an incredibly short time. When he found himself back in the narrow alley, he rushed through the chain-linked fence and, without a second thought, took the crowbar which Keller's bodyguard left on the ground and used it to secure the fence behind him. He could see the agent coming out of the basements access and hastily turned around to keep on running.
"Neal!", the agent behind him shouted. Neal froze immediatly, unable to move. He slowly turned around, feeling completely horrified and faced Agent Peter Burke, whose voice and face he now finally recognized.
Peter looked stunned at the young criminal's face, unable to believe it. He had spent the whole night and day worrying about how he could rescue that kid and now he was standing right in front of him, in charge of a significant crime, staring at him in pure shock and clearly frightened as hell. Peter was still aiming at the boys head with his gun.
The boy focused on his weapon. "You… you wouldn't… shoot me. Would you?", he said, in small and frightened voice.
Peter could see all the pain and panic in the boy's gaze. His whole body was trembling and Peter could see several bruises and scars on the boys face. But he hesitated to put the gun down.
"Only if I have to.", he said calmly.
He saw the boy's eyes widen in shock. He backed away again and Peter groaned and slowly put his weapon down on the ground, holding his hands high afterwards to soothe the kid.
"See? I won't harm you. Just stay where you are."
Neal stopped, obviously uncertain what to do next, still staring suspiciously at Peter's hands.
"Please surrender, Caffrey. You won't get hurti I promise. And I'll help you as best as a can. We'll treat you right, there's no need to be afraid", he said gently.
Neal looked down and then, for the first time, directly in Peters eyes. "Peter, like I told you, no one can help me. I have to help myself. If you knew… I mean, I must go now. I am so sorry that I caused you so much trouble. I really am!"
His honest, sad eyes rested on Peter for a short while. He looked so young and vulnerable at this moment. Then the boy turned around and started to run again but couldn't hide his pain anymore. He could't keep himself upright while running.
Peter crashed against the fence with his whole body, trying to open the door with brute force, but couldn't make it. When he saw the kid turning around the corner of the alley, he slapped his fist furiously against the brick wall to his left and took his mobile to call his backup.
