2 - Threads

Neal watched as Ghovat shoved Tara in Peter's direction with a sinking heart.

There was no way that the Israeli didn't have a backup plan, and so far, things were moving far too smoothly for his liking. It was Rule #1, after all.

Always have a way out.

"If you'll notice, Agent Burke, I've added a little fashion accessory of my own to our model friend here" Ghovat said, "The belt is lined with plastique. I dial a number here, and she goes boom!"

And there was his way out.

"Give her the dress. Toss it" He continued, "Please don't try anything. I have five bars and free long distance. I can be far away and still cause you pain".

Neal watched as the terrorist walked away, dress confidently folded over one arm and phone held in the other, as if expecting another call at any minute.

Or waiting to explode the belt.

… That gave him an idea.

"Let him walk" Hughes ordered, "Even if he's bluffing, we can't take the chance".

He quickly pulled out his phone and dialled the given number.

"Yes?" Ghovat answered, and Neal grinned, "Hey, is this Steve? What's up, buddy? You never call".

The line went dead.

The others all stared at him.

"Alright, keep calling" He said, quickly jumping out of the van, "Jam his phone so he can't trigger the bomb. Keep calling him!"

Hughes nodded, once.

"Cruz, stay with Caffrey. Everybody else keep dialing!"

"Jam the phone! Jam the phone! Keep calling him!"

Neal didn't hesitate as he passed Peter.

"Hey! We're jamming his cell, get the belt off of her" He yelled, running past, "Do it, do it!"

Ahead of him, was Ghovat, glaring at his phone and cursing.

"Hey, Steve!" He called out, panting as he came to a stop.

He grinned and held up his phone.

Ghovat scowled and pulled out a gun.

Neal felt his eyes widen and he automatically took a small step backwards.

"Now what?"


Peter was completely and utterly, for lack of a better word, panicking.

He had to get the belt of Tara, but doing that could alert Ghovat, which in turn could trigger the bomb.

Damn it!

"Hey!"

He turned at the shout, only to find Neal running towards him.

"We're jamming his cell, get the belt off of her".

"You-"

"Do it, do it!" He demanded, running past.

Peter quickly turned back to the model.

"Hold still!"

His fingers fumbled uselessly with the clasp, and he distantly wondered if El had ever worn anything so complicated.

Then again, the plastic explosives attached did add another level of difficulty.

But finally, he managed to unlatch it, and quickly tore it off her.

"That's it! Good!" He flung it far away from them with all his might, "Everybody clear the area now!"

He grabbed Tara and pulled her to the ground.

"Get down. Get down! Get down!"

Quickly throwing himself over the girl, he waited for the inevitable explosion.

*BANG*

Peter tensed, expecting flames and shredded belt pieces to reach him at any minute.

They never came.


"Wow. You're actually doing the whole hero thing".

He looked up as Jones came to a stop next to him.

"Yea. They're gonna write songs about this".

Peter got to his feet and helped Tara up.

"Nice. You okay?"

She nodded, one head on her hand.

"Must've been quite a small bomb" Peter remarked, turning to where he'd thrown the belt.

It was still there.

He frowned.

"... Jones?"

"Yea?"

"... Did you hear that bang?"

The younger man followed his gaze and mirrored his expression when he saw the bomb still intact.

"But if that didn't explode, then what…"

He suddenly froze, hand coming up to press against his earpiece.

Even as Peter watched, he paled.

"What? Jones, what is it? What's happened?"

"Agent Cruz had secured Ghovat. Area's contained. Bomb squad's on the way" He reported slowly, "But Caffrey's down".


Peter started running before he even finished his sentence.

He followed the wide tar road that Neal had ran towards, apprehension and anticipation building in his chest and making him break out in a cold sweat. 'Agent down' usually only meant one thing, and he couldn't associate that with Neal, not with Caffrey, not with someone who was so very much alive and energetic and playful, not-

Up ahead, he saw Ghovat face down on the pavement, hands cuffed behind his back and yelling obscenities.

Next to him, a few feet ahead, knelt Lauren, sports bra, shorts, headphones and all.

And lying in front of her, was Neal.

Peter froze, breath coming in short gasps, as he saw his agent press against the man's side, blood staining his white shirt and her tanned fingers, and he immediately thought the worst.

Then he saw Cruz smile at something the conman said, and all breath rushed from his body in relief.


Slowly making his way over, he gave her a questioning look as she looked up.

"Ghovat pulled a gun" She explained, "I distracted him while Prince Charming here tackled him, and it went off".

Neal gave a lazy grin when he saw him, head propped up on his own folded jacket.

"Hey Peter".

"Hey yourself. You tackled a man with a gun?"

"I swept the leg. He went down".

" You did? Excellent. You don't look dirty" He teased.

"Yea, well. I know what I'm doing".

"Clearly" He replied dryly, nodding at the red staining the tarred pavement, "Want to tell me what that is then?"

"Hughes has already called for paramedics" Lauren reassured, "There's a lot of blood, but it's just a graze. I doubt he'll even need stitches".

"Just a graze? It feels like a red hot iron poker has been slapped against me" Neal groaned, "And I'm the one meant to be rescuing you".

"You tackled Ghovat for me" She shrugged, "Despite the fact I easily could have taken him. And did, in fact, after he shot you".

He smirked, "That was pretty damn charming".

Peter rolled his eyes at the pair of them, and leant back on his haunches.

"Think you can walk?"

"I think I can try" came the ever-so-helpful response.

"Yea. You're fine" He replied, "Come on, up you get".

Between him and Cruz, they managed to get him to his feet, despite his whining the entire time. Once up, Peter took a look at the wound, glad to find that it really was just a graze, three or four inches above his left hip bone. There was still a mass of skin and muscle missing, but thankfully, there was nothing vital near it, or even any nerve endings. Like Lauren said, he probably wouldn't even need stitches.

"Alright" He said, pulling Neal's arm over his shoulder, "Let's go".


Half an hour later, and they were wrapping things up at the park.

The agents on standby had been sent home, the utility van was gone, and Hughes had overseen the transfer of Ghovat to a secure holding cell himself. Peter was just about done making his report, and with a quick nod to both Jones and Cruz, he made his way over to the ambulance parked nearby.

The back doors were open, and Neal was sitting propped up against them, while one of the paramedics stood just outside, sticking sterile dressing to his chest with medical tape.

Neal was swinging his legs and smiling giddily as Peter approached, both acts making him look far far too young to be getting treated for a bullet wound.

His smile only widened once he reached him, "Peter!"

He frowned and gave the medic a bemused side look.

She smirked, "He's on the good stuff".

"And good stuff it is" Neal declared seriously, "Really really good stuff. The best stuff".

"I can see that" He replied, biting back a laugh, "You're pretty doped up, huh?"

"Can't even feel my toes" He agreed, before suddenly turning panicked, and reaching out to grab his hand.

"Peter. I can't feel my toes".

"They're still there, bud".

"Are you sure?"

Wide blue eyes searched his worryingly, and Peter got the sudden urge to pull out his phone and video it.

"I'm sure, Neal. Everything's still there, I promise".

He nodded, decisively, "Good. Cause I need those. Very difficult to walk across a phone wire without toes".

"Why would you ever need to walk across a phone wire?"

"To escape a pig" He said, giving him a look, "Obviously".

"Obviously" Peter readily agreed, no longer bothering to hide his grin, "You're in a rather truthful mood. Want to confess to any art thefts before the drugs wear off?"

"Alleged art thefts".

He sighed, "I'll take that as a 'no' then".


The paramedic finished with the tape and straightened up.

"A few days of bed rest, no heavy lifting, no unnecessary bending, and it should heal up in about ten days" She told him, "The main thing is the risk of infection, but changing the bandages every few hours and applying antiseptic cream should prevent that. Has he got someone to stay with?"

Peter glanced back at the conman, only to find childlike eyes staring back at him imploringly.

Oh what the hell.

El and Satchmo already loved him.

And the guest room was always made up.

"Yea" He replied, smiling, "He does".

Maybe he could get some more information about those 'alleged' art thefts out of him as well…