"Hey," Neal greeted Sara, who waited at the corner they agreed upon.
"Hi." She smiled when she saw him these days. When did that happen? Had she really been ready to shoot him once? It seemed too far away.
"Anyone follow you?" he asked as they got moving across the crossing with the other pedestrians.
"No. You?"
"All clear."
"They said over the phone that it could take up to four weeks for us to get access to those files," she said with a sigh. Yeah, he guessed so.
"That's all right." He smiled at her. "I got a plan."
"Are you gonna share that plan with me?"
He held out his hand, and she grabbed it.
"I suppose you didn't tell her you come from the FBI."
"Because I don't."
"That's right. But I do."
"You're a consultant," she pointed out, but she had that thrilled, curious look about her.
"So we start with the one you spoke with on the phone," he said, guiding her inside the archives as if that had anything to do with him not being a fully-fledged FBI agent.
"As I told you on the phone, you need permission," the lady answered.
"The FBI has permission," Neal said, beaming toward her. "And it's rather urgent that we get to the archives."
"Of course, if that's the case," she said and walked ahead of them. Neal had wished she would ask for credentials so he could flash his badge.
They walked down a staircase.
"Any chance you can tell me a little more about what you're looking for?"
"Only that it's regarding an individual who may have come through Ellis Island in 1946. We need to look through files to match a physical description."
"The rest is national security," Sara filled in.
"You understand." Neal beamed again.
"Of course. Sorry I wasn't more helpful over the phone. She didn't say she was with the FBI."
"Oh, she's not," Neal said, pulling out his badge and showing it. "I am."
"Please, follow me." She moved ahead of them once again. Sara had an eyebrow raised.
"Peter knows," Neal said, returning the badge to the pocket. "The broad strokes." Sara chuckled. They followed the lady into a big, windowless room with plenty of old busts and portraits.
"This is it," the archive lady declared. "Records. Ledgers. Card catalogs." She gestured to three different parts of the room.
"Which ones are from 1946?" Neal asked, smiling, hoping for help.
"All of them. Excuse me." She left them to attend something else.
Neal glanced at Sara and then around the room. One guy among a million?
"Yeah, we can do this." They had to. Somehow.
"We have no idea when in 1946?" Sara asked.
"No."
"Okay. So we start from left to right then." She walked to a shelf and picked up a pile of files, and handed it to Neal. Then she picked a pile for herself and sat down. He looked at her and at the files. He felt bored before he even started. It was as if his whole life was nothing but files no matter where he went.
He sat down and got to work.
People, families, singles, lost children, widows, sick, and elderly. No male fit their description. He sighed and flipped a page. To flash the badge had been fun, but this… Not even in prison had he been this bored.
"It's gonna take a while," Sara said as if he had not realized this already.
He put the file away and glanced at the next. He needed a break. Sara seemed to enjoy herself in her research. Watching her was a lot more pleasant.
"So tell me, Repo," he started, and she looked up, "why are you helping out? What's your angle in all this?"
She looked at the file spread out in front of her.
"If Adler spent his life searching for something," she said, looking back at him, "that means the payoff's got to be bigger than the billion he's already stolen."
Did she only care for the money? Did she see no thrill in it at all?
"That's all?"
She shrugged like she was uncomfortable with the question.
"I like the mystery." He liked that better. That part he liked himself. He opened the following file. Even if it felt like she did not tell him everything, he was about to leave it at that when: "I know what it's like to have a lot of questions."
He raised his eyes from the file, watching her. It was one of those cliché answers, like 'I know how you feel'.
"Really?" He did not bother to hide his sarcasm.
"When I was 13, my older sister ran away, and we never heard from her again."
Neal felt ashamed.
"I'm sorry."
He focused on her, giving her the attention she deserved.
"I used to go into her room and just look at her things and hope that something held the key." Her eyes met his. She was telling her private tragedy to him. He felt honored by her trust. "You know, if there was a book about dancers, I'd wonder, 'is she a ballerina?' Or, there was a pony poster. So I wondered if she was off on a ranch somewhere. And I never found the answers I was looking for." How hard it must be for her not even to know if her sister was alive. "But... If we find Adler, maybe you can have some closure with Kate."
She had said the last so fast that it took him a second to realize what she had said. She immediately returned to her work and sent him an awkward quick smile.
That made him sure that she had said what he thought he had heard her say.
He could not take her eyes away from her. Did she care for him? For real? He had felt hope for attraction between them, but this…
The next morning Neal joined Peter at the office. His handler was making himself ready for his break-in.
"Looking sharp, Peter."
"Thank you. There's a very good teacher inside that little shiny head of his." Neal smiled proudly. "How'd it go at the archives?"
"Great. But it's gonna take a while to find Wagner."
"Another late night with Sara, huh?" Peter winked. Neal could not believe the level of that comment.
"Hey, keep your eye on the prize, okay?" He took a step closer, hands on his hips. "This is serious. Stanzler doesn't mess around. Now, remember, backup is 10 seconds away—"
"You don't give me the 'be careful' speech," Peter objected. "I invented the 'be careful' speech."
"Yeah, but since I'm you, I should give—"
"You're Neal in the van, and I'm Neal outside the van."
"Okay." Did this mean he did not have to do the paperwork this time? He shrugged. "Then go out there and make me look good."
On the way to the van Moz called him.
"Is Sara alone at the archive?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Well, she has been followed, and if I join her, we double the workforce."
"You're worried about her," Neal smiled.
"Uh, no. I want to get Adler too. And yes, I mean, it's impossible to deny this Tracy-Hepburn thing between Sara and myself."
Neal chuckled.
"Control yourself, Moz. Go there if you want to. I'm sure Sara will be delighted to get some help." If Mozzie could deal with just a few of those files, it would be less for him. "3,000 immigrants a week, and not one of those files is computerized."
"With every right. Computers can get hacked."
"Looking sharp, Peter," the kid said, walking in when Diana and Jones left.
"Thank you. There's a very good teacher inside that little shiny head of his." He was strange and odd but an expert in what he did. Peter did not want to know how hard it would be to get Mozzie if he someday was on their radar. "How'd it go at the archives?"
"Great. But it's gonna take a while to find Wagner."
"Another late night with Sara, huh?" Peter grinned. Sara and Neal sure could work together, but how they must hate it.
"Hey, keep your eye on the prize, okay? This is serious. Stanzler doesn't mess around." Peter glanced at the kid. Did he imitate him? "Now, remember, backup is 10 seconds away—"
"You don't give me the 'be careful' speech," Peter cut in. "I invented the 'be careful' speech." And he was Peter Burke, and his pet convict was a con-man and a criminal with the name Neal Caffrey.
"Yeah, but since I'm you, I should give—"
No, no. This would have to end before it got out of hand.
"You're Neal in the van, and I'm Neal outside the van."
"Okay. Then go out there and make me look good."
They left and drove to the van where Diana and Jones already were. Peter checked the equipment so they could hear each other, and then he left and walked down three blocks to the meeting point with Stanzler.
"Neal," the man greeted him.
"Mr. Stanzler." They shook hands, and Peter dropped the bug in the man's pocket.
"When you get to that master bedroom, look for anything called 'Project Edison.'"
"Got it," Peter confirmed.
"My meeting with Luntz will last 20 minutes. You have exactly that to find the video and find your way back to the Bentley."
"20 minutes? Plenty of time." He would rather have an hour in an empty house.
"It better be. Otherwise, you're on your own. Let's go."
Peter got inside the trunk of Stanzler's car, and they got moving. The van was parked outside Luntz house, and they would probably see it with their camera.
Still, information was the key to successful cooperation.
"Heads up, guys. I think we're pulling in to Luntz' mansion," he mumbled into his microphone. The car stopped; he heard a car door open and then a quick knock on the trunk lid. He counted to ten and then opened the lid, peeking out.
No one was looking. He snuck out and pressed the button to close the lid. Before it was closed, he was already down the stairs to the basement.
"Out of the vehicle. Headed for the basement door."
"Good. We got ears on you," he heard Neal's voice from the van.
"Wait for me to confirm that," he heard Jones' voice in the background.
"Working on the lock now," Peter continued.
"Okay," Jones answered. "We have ears on you." He almost rolled his eyes at this. Was he getting the mood of a criminal for real? He shuddered.
The lock turned, and the door opened. Less than ten seconds. That was something to be proud of.
"I'm in."
Peter walked upstairs and stopped outside the room where the two men met.
"So, tell me about this guy, Wheelock, your contact at the power company. What else did he say?"
"They have budget cuts," Stanzler answered, "fewer controls, which makes monitoring us that much more difficult."
It would sure be interesting to hear that recording later. He continued upstairs.
