Chapter 7 "First Impressions"

"The Lord looked down from the holy heights,
viewed the earth from heaven,
To attend to the groaning of the prisoners,
to release those doomed to die."
Psalms 102:20-21 (NABRE)

Rubbing his eyes, Neal yawns. He feels tired. He has spent the night drawing Satchmo, Lucky and Vincent. He is quite happy with how some of those sketches have turned out. He plans to sketch some more after the meeting. For that purpose he has bought the dog anatomy book. He wants to do a thorough study on how the dog's muscles move. Then, his sketches of Satchmo and Lucky will get even better.

Woof! Woof! Woof! The barking makes Neal stop dead in his tracks. He has just passed a supermarket. In front of it is a Labrador dog. Tied to a fence. The poor creature looks so much like Satchmo that he cannot remain indifferent. He squats by her side. Bella, as her tag names her, is very happy to see him. She first sniffs his hands, then licks them. He scratches her behind the ear. Why do adults keep doing that? Do they not realize it is no fun to be left alone on the street like that?

Mummy! That whine is not hers but Lucky's. In his imagination Neal can see the little puppy as it runs in circles around Satchmo. Mummy! Neal, you've found my mummy!

"Really?!" Neal asks, feeling his heart beat faster. He locks his eyes with Lucky's mummy. It seems too good to be true.

It is too good to be true. You just want another dog Neal and―

Oh, quiet now, Satchmo shushes the cat. She is Lucky's mummy! I have no doubt about it.

Neal bites his lip. To be quite honest, raising a little puppy scares him. Satchmo does not know anything about kids and Vincent is scared of having another dog in the workshop. Maybe it will be better for Lucky to have a mummy and… "Bella The Nameless, welcome to our pack!" Neal tells Bella with a wide smile, untying her from the fence. "It's an hour long walk from here, we can―"

Neal stops himself. The meeting. Mister Keller's meeting is supposed to start within half an hour. If he goes back to the workshop now, he will never make it in time. Not knowing what to do, for a longer moment he just stares at Bella, who sniffs his hands. He scratches her behind the ear and she wags her tail. Making up his mind, Neal sighs. "Bella, I'm sorry but―"

NO! DO NOT DARE TO ABANDON HER! The cry comes from Lucky and Neal feels even more confused. But what else can he do?! Lucky cannot possibly expect him to take Bella to the meeting!

"This is bad," Neal whispers half to himself and half to the dog. She cocks her head at him and barks. Meeting her calm, motherly eyes Neal furrows his forehead. "You sure about it?"

Bella barks yet again.

/\_/\
='x'=

Ten minutes later Neal is in a back alley three blocks away from the meeting place. Bella has agreed to wait for him here. He ties her to the drainpipe and kisses her on the top of her head. "Just be good, ok? I'll be back," Neal promises, and when she whines in response, he puts his arms around her tightly. "I will be back. And then we will go back home. And Lucky will have his mum," he tells her. She responds by licking his face.

Neal! The warning comes from Vincent. One moment Neal is snuggling with the dog, the next - he is back on his feet. He has sensed the same presence his cat has, only… It is already too late, he realizes, turning away from Bella and seeing who else besides him and the dog is in the back alley.

"Hello… Kid," Travis Murphy says, closing the distance between them. His expression is unreadable and he has a dangerous glint in his eyes. "So, I heard Keller will be using you for this one. What a pity he has yet to realize how useless you are…" And then, to Neal's dismay, Travis notices Bella's presence. Neal watches the adult's eyes flick to Lucky's mum, then back to him. "Oh, you must be kidding," the man snorts.

/\_/\
='x'=

"Loud and clear?" Peter asked into his broadcasting watch.

"Loud and clear," Jones confirmed, putting on his headphones and starting the recording. "GPS signal is locked. What's the activation phrase?" his agent then asked, following the procedures.

"Long ride," Peter answered, thinking it was doubtful he would be in need of backup. That day was supposed to be just a meeting before the heist. The day before Peter Morris had met Keller. It was time for his alias to meet the rest of the gang face to face.

"You say long ride and we'll be there," Jones assured. Peter nodded, straightening his jacket. Then he faced his three trusted agents again.

"Well? Looking shady enough?" he asked them and they laughed.

"Outright despicable, boss," Diana answered with a grin.

Peter grinned back. "Wish me good luck then," he said.

"Good luck!" his agents said, and with that, Peter closed the door of the van. They had parked it within twenty minute walking distance from the criminals' meeting place. Looking at his watch, Peter could see he was going to be early. Good, he thought. That might just give him time to get to know some of Keller's people better.

/\_/\
='x'=

Peter was approximately ten minutes from the meeting place when a movement on his right caught his eye. He stopped in his tracks and frowned as he looked down a small alley. What he saw, looked like the kind of an ugly family fight, which must have been quite common in such a neighbourhood, only… Wasn't that Travis Murphy? Squinting his eyes, he tried to make out the man's face. It must have been.

Peter had spent the last couple of weeks studying all the intel FBI had on Keller and Travis Murphy had long been suspected of being one of Keller's closest associates. Ever since Keller's activities had grown less violent, they seemed to work together less frequently, but if that was indeed Travis… Then who was that kid he was taunting?

Deciding he still had some time to investigate, Peter turned into the alley.

/\_/\
='x'=

"Hey, that's mine!" Neal protests as his backpack is roughly taken away from him. He does not dare to do anything else, though. As the adult starts to rummage through his things, Neal can just watch.

"Well, what do we have here? Oh, an ID… How nice. And I see you've swiped a few wallets too, huh? And what's this!" The man laughs. "Dog anatomy book, seriously…" He opens one of the wallets and fishes two hundred bucks out of it. "I'll take this," he decides. "And this," he pockets the credit cards. "Oh, and what do we have here…"

"Hey, man. What seems to be the problem?" The words come as a surprise to both Neal and Travis. A tall, brown-haired stranger stops by Travis's side.

"I don't know man, you tell me," Travis laughs, throwing the backpack on the ground and turning to face the man. "Because whatever is, it's none of your business, now, is it?"

The stranger does not answer at first, his gaze shifting for a moment from Travis to Neal, then finally to Neal's backpack and valuables scattered on the ground.

"Or maybe it is," he then says, before, weirdly enough, he holds out his hand as if to greet Travis. "We were supposed to meet today, Peter Morris."

"Oh…" Travis says, eyeing the man suspiciously. Then, with only a slight hesitation, he shakes the man's hand. Neal just purses his lips. As if things could get any worse. So this is Peter Morris, their crew's babysitter. "Travis Murphy."

"My pleasure," Mister Morris continues, smiling pleasantly, then gestures carelessly at Neal, his dog and his stuff. "So, what's all this? I thought we were after the big fish."

"And so we are," Neal answers instead of Travis, then kneels to gather his scattered possessions. It is better for the stranger to realize Neal is one of them now, than to have Travis do the introductions for him. He stands up from the ground and locks his eyes with Neumann's man. "Travis here, just likes to bully, sir."

"Oh, but you give me every reason to," Travis replies with a huff. "Wait till Keller learns you brought your dog to the meeting."

"It's not my dog," Neal protests, turning to look at Travis.

"Oh, it's not?" Travis chuckles. "Then I guess you would not mind if I do this―" He never makes that kick. Peter Morris does not let him. "What the hell man! Get your hands off me, I don't―"

"Listen to me now." Neal has never heard such a cold voice. "Because I'm not going to repeat myself. You kick that dog and you're dead. We both know what I'm here for and it is to keep an eye on you all. You don't want to make this hard for me, now, do you?"

Watching the two adults, Neal decides, that if he were to bet who is going to win this fight, his money would be on Mister Morris. Not only does he look stronger, he is also much better collected than Travis. He looks healthier, as well. Definitely not a drug addict. Neal watches as the man finally lets Travis go.

"Now, I've asked you a question. What is it exactly, that you have been doing here?" he again asks politely, the coldness from his expression is all gone. Now, this is very scary.

Travis glares at him for a longer moment, but then, finally, he gives in. Shrugging his shoulders, he fishes out a cig from his pocket and lights it. "Teaching this brat a lesson," he mutters.

"I see. And what would that lesson be?"

Travis laughs. "You want to know what the lesson is, fine. I'll tell you what the lesson is here. This," he gestures at Neal, "only brings trouble. Last time I had to work with him, I nearly died. Why, you ask? The kid spotted a kitty on a rooftop and instead of sticking to the plan like a good kid should, he decided that, no, he knows better and the poor kitten… Needs saving. Cost me a bullet right through my thigh."

"Now, that's just bullshit," Neal says, interrupting the story. "The only reason last time went so bad, was because you were late. I was on time and you―"

"SHUT UP!" Already predicting the coming punch, Neal ducks. He glares at the adult in hatred, but it is again Peter Morris who puts an end to it by grabbing Travis's arm. He looks confused.

"What? The kid's seriously with us?" he demands and Travis chuckles. Zipping the backpack and throwing it over his arm, Neal just rolls his eyes. He then turns to glare at Travis.

"You tell Mister Keller about the dog and I'll tell him about all those other times you screwed up," he states coldly, then reaches out to the man's pocket to take a pack of cigs away from him. He then takes one, puts it in his mouth and lights it. "Or about that tweak you carry in your pocket. Now, you wouldn't like that, would you, sir?"

"Screw you," Travis curses, before shrugging off Peter Morris's hold on him. The man, still looking a bit dumbfounded, lets him go. They watch Travis turn and then walk out of the alley. Looking up at Peter Morris, Neal offers him the pack he has taken from Travis.

"Want one, sir?" he asks lightly.

"How old are you?" the adult asks with a frown and Neal sighs. He pockets the pack of cigs along with the lighter. Stupid Travis.

"Old enough to know how to read the clock, sir," Neal says, gesturing to Mister Morris's watch. He is right of course. There are only five minutes left till the meeting. Peter Morris seems to notice that too. Blowing out smoke, Neal watches the adult join him on his side as they walk in the direction Travis has previously disappeared into. They continue walking in silence until they reach the warehouse.

"You should be more careful with whom you pick your fights, kid," Peter Morris unexpectedly says. "He had a gun."

"Yeah, I know. You all do." Neal scrunches up his nose, before pushing the door open.

He steps aside to let the adult come in first. "No mat to say 'welcome', but I'm sure Mister Keller will be more than happy to see you joining us today, sir." Neal honestly doubts it. No one likes babysitters, especially when they get forced on you by your associate.

/\_/\
='x'=

Following the pre-teen boy into the basement of the old building, Peter could not help feeling that it was all part of some bizarre nightmare. One in which he would be forced to watch the kid before him die from bullets of whoever was waiting for them downstairs.

Peter cringed inside, recalling the recorded conversation from Neumann's office. Despite the use of the word 'kid' and Keller's weird protectiveness over 'his little tool', as he had called the boy, it did not occur to Peter that the criminal the two men had been talking about would be a minor, literally 'kid'. He had been expecting a young adult if anything, not a primary school child. But then, despite the kid not having introduced himself, Peter was positive that who he had just met, was none other than George, or rather Georgie, as Keller had called him.

Child-abuse was one of the crimes that most infuriated Peter. Coming to the end of the steps, Peter forced himself to take a deep breath and keep a lid on that righteous anger boiling within him. Lashing out would help neither the FBI, nor him, nor the boy. Right that moment, more than ever, he had to focus on collecting enough evidence to put Keller behind bars. What a sick sociopathic bastard… His little tool, indeed!

Downstairs, a grim looking, muscular man was waiting for them. One, whom George seemed to know. Hiding his anger behind a mask of indifference, Peter watched the boy bump fists with the shady character.

"Yo, Mil, what's up?" the child asked, the same smile on his face that he had given Peter earlier offering him a cigarette.

"Be careful G, Travis's pissed off," the man answered in a similar light tone, his eyes locked on Peter, not the boy. Taking in the man's face, Peter recognized another criminal whom the FBI suspected of being part of Keller's crew. Eric Miller's hallmark was a scar running across the right side of his face, all the way from his forehead down to his chin. A little souvenir from his time in prison. The tattoos that he had acquired there were temporarily hidden from everyone's sight.

"You know me," the little boy told the convicted murderer with a slight shrug. "I'm always careful."

"Yeah, sure," the man grunted, still frowning at Peter. "And you are?"

"Peter Morris," Peter answered, offering the man his hand. Miller's grip was a firm one.

"Fantastic," the man snorted, not letting go of his hand. For a slight moment his gaze flicked to the boy, who was curiously observing them. Georgie, or G, must have understood the message because after a moment Peter watched the boy turn away from them and with a slight shrug trot down the corridor Miller was guarding. Only after the boy had left, did the man speak again. "I don't care who you are, our kid's off limits. You touch him, you're as good as dead. Understand?"

"As long as he does his job right, I don't care." Peter nodded, wondering how numerous was the 'we' the crook was referencing. How was it possible for the hardened criminals to trust anything to a child? And if the kid was indeed under their protection, how was it that Travis could shove him around like that?

"Great, I'm Miller then." The man smiled, then gestured for Peter to give him his gun. Uneasily, Peter complied, such measures were to be expected. After the pat-down, the man gestured him to the scruffy, dimly-lit corridor."After you."

At the end of it, a familiar face was waiting for them. Matthew Keller's expression was reserved as he silently watched Peter approaching, smoking a cigar. As Peter stopped, from behind him he heard the sound of a glass shard being crushed by a heavy boot. "He's clean," the criminal informed Keller, before entering the room himself.

"Welcome, Peter," Keller said, a pleasant smile entering his lips.

"Matthew," Peter shook the man's hand, then followed Miller inside.

The neat and well-furnished interior of the room contrasted with the inglorious look of the corridor, but that of course, Peter knew, was the point. The two main characteristics of the criminal liars were, first, that they were put together in haste, ready to be abandoned the moment the FBI closed in, and second, that they were mostly located in neighbourhoods that most people would avoid. With the rising amount of monitoring in public spaces, choosing a discreet location was not easy. Keller had done a great job with the current one.

As the man handed him a glass of whiskey, Peter nodded his thanks. Then, he crossed the space to sit in the armchair on the left of Travis and across from the little boy. Relieved, he noted that the kid was not sipping on any alcohol, instead, in his hands was a can of coke. As he sat, Peter could feel Travis's hateful glare boring into his skull. Previously, the bully's full attention seemed to be solely on the child. Looking to his right, he returned the criminals gaze and the man looked away.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw something like relief on George's face, then the boy smiled, resting his sneakers on the table and taking a long sip from the can. Clearly, being in the company of murderers, long-timers and burglars, was something he was familiar with. The hardest thing for Peter was to turn his gaze away from the child and focus it back on Keller. No instructor had ever told him that he might encounter a situation like that.

Juvenile offenders existed, yes, many of them engaged in numerous violent crimes, he was aware of that. As an FBI agent, however, he barely, if ever, had to deal with minors. The reason for that was simple enough. The crimes committed by kids, even gang members, were usually just too minor to fall into the FBI's jurisdiction. They let the police deal with them. And yet, there he was, sitting across from the juvenile who, in appearance, might not have been more than fourteen. About to steal twenty million worth of forgeries.

Peter was conscious of the fact that all the men present would get at least ten years for that. Neumann, who had planned the heist to get the insurance money, was going down too. But what about George? How would the court see his involvement with the criminals? He was a minor, so clearly, in a way he was also a victim of Keller's manipulations. Still, a grand theft was a grand theft, and so, if the boy had no relatives to take care of him and promise to keep him straight, the judge would decide against his favour. Even with the relatives around, Peter doubted the boy could avoid being incarcerated. No, just like his criminal 'guardians', he would have to serve time. What was unknown was for how long.

"Since we're all here, how about we start," Keller's statement put an end to Peter's distraught thoughts. Firmly deciding to abandon all the speculations about the boy's fate, Peter turned his full attention back to Keller, while still keeping an eye on the other crooks around him. He felt that every criminal in the room was doing pretty much the same. The only difference was George, whose eyes, as he gazed at Keller, did not stop shining even for a moment with that heart-breaking admiration from someone young, inexperienced and craving for someone's attention. Peter realized that at least half of that impression of the boy could only be in his imagination, and yet… No. Even if one could not infer from a person's body language that much, Peter knew that was exactly what was going on. It was a classic example of an experienced criminal manipulating his more vulnerable young associate into doing his bidding. He just hoped that the measures Keller had taken to maintain that particular loyalty were not as extreme and hideous as in some cases Peter had seen.

/\_/\
='x'=

Listening to Mister Keller, Neal quietly drums his fingers against his knee. He decides that, despite the last minute notice, he rather likes his mentor's plan. Its initial steps are simple enough.

Officially, their target consists of five paintings. They will cut three of them out of their frames, the other two 'their client' requested to be stolen in one piece. Mister Keller, with help from Mil, will do the cutting, Mister Morris will stand guard. Then all four of them will be gone. Travis will be waiting for them in a getaway car.

Neal's task will be to shut all the cameras and motion detectors. In order to do that, as usual, he will take a route inaccessible to the adults - a ventilation system only someone as small as he could fit into. Then, he will give a signal for the crew to move in and the show Mister Keller has planned will really begin. Because, contrary to what Mister Keller has said here, Neal will not go back once the security system has been disabled, he knows this is not really what his mentor wants him to do. Now thinking of that second part of the plan, deliberately omitted by Mister Keller, makes Neal a bit worried.

After disabling the security system, Neal will crawl back into the ductwork. This time with a new target in mind - the music box locked in a triple-walled, case-hardened steel 1943 mckinzie. It will be Neal's responsibility to carry the bulky thing out of the office. If nothing goes wrong, Mister Keller will meet Neal on his way back. If something does go wrong, however… Well. That is exactly the reason, why his mentor always has two or three back-up plans close at hand. Mister Keller believes that if this happens, Neal, despite the heavy music box, will be able to independently reach their rendezvous point. Despite his mentor's confidence, he is not so sure if he agrees with him. During the day, and with no one suspecting a thing, yes, he thinks, he could. But during the night, and with Mister Keller's associate knowing about the heist…

Drumming his fingers against his knee, Neal turns his quizzical gaze at their group's babysitter. In his mind his presence should have been a clear red flag for his mentor. A sign that Mister Neumann does not trust Mister Keller as much as he used to. A sign that their heist will be watched much closer than his mentor took into account in his plans. And, if indeed that turns out to be the case… Neal might manage to reach the office, maybe even manage to go outside… But who is to say he will make it any further than that? Who is to say Mister Neumann's men won't be waiting for them outside? And, if he does end up alone, without Mister Keller by his side, it will mean that, just like a year ago, he will be completely at the mercy of strangers.

But he did come for you the last time, didn't he? Satchmo comments and it makes Neal smile. It is true. Mister Keller did come for him. He did not leave him.

Neither did he leave that mysterious letter he was initially after. I mean, remember that story Travis once told you? He said―

"I think it's going to work," afraid to let Vincent finish his thought, Neal interrupts both him and Mister Keller. The adult does not seem to be any happier with the intrusion than the cat.

"Really?" he asks him dryly and within the corner of his eye Neal notices Mil cracking a smile at that. Travis just glares at him, while Mister Morris's expression remains unreadable. There is something very hard in those eyes, though. Something Neal does not like.

"Yep," he nevertheless nods enthusiastically, then points to the mansion plans spread out on the table. "I have a question though, about those two paintings that are to stay intact. It's a security system FX100, right?" Mister Keller nods. "This means that disabling security by me won't help you much with this particular task. You'll still need to find a panel and do it yourself, unless…" Neal taps the schematics with a finger. Then, he meets Mister Keller's gaze. "Unless I make a quick stop here and―"

"No, you're to go straight to that security room." Mister Keller interrupts him and Neal shuts his mouth. "Sightseeing you can do some other time," the adult adds and Neal hears Mil snort. He himself decides to stay silent. The room where the paintings are located is not too far from the route he has to take in order to get to the security room, so in his opinion it would really not hurt anyone if he went there to take a peek at the supposed forgeries, but… But obviously, he is wrong to think that.

"Any other interruptions?" Mister Keller asks, and when no one speaks, he continues to explain the plan. Sipping on a coke, Neal starts to drum his fingers against his knee again. Yeah, he once more decides. Mister Keller's plan is a good one. In fact, if he were kept ignorant about what is happening behind the scenes between Mister Keller and Mister Neumann, he would probably be overly excited to get on with the heist. Even with the uncomfortable knowledge of the plan in the plan, he can still feel the familiar restlessness in his bones. It is amazing that of all the people, of all the adults that Mister Keller could choose for the task, it is him, Neal Ca…Ce… Neal C-something that the adult chose. Neal thinks that two years ago he was very lucky to stumble upon someone like Mister Keller - the first adult he had ever met who was actually willing to give him a real chance.

Next: Thick as Thieves

Author's notes:

Smoking cigarettes is harmful.

If you liked the chapter and want me to keep publishing here, on FF, please let me know. :)