2 - Need to Know

"Cooper!"

Neal turned as Mayfield called his alias.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing".

He forced the smile to stay on his face.

Did the man suspect something?

They were so close to arresting Jennings, this couldn't afford to go wrong now.

"Thanks, I'll check in later" He said to the nameless suit next to him before making his way over.

Reggie looked relaxed but Neal could see the tension set in his jaw.

"Nice job".

He ignored the fake compliment.

"Look, I need to know what's going on, or I can't fix it".

He had to maintain his cover at all cost.

"But if you can't trust me…"

Turning, he purposelessly strode away to let the man draw his own conclusions.

"You believe in Gary Jennings, right?"

He glanced back.

"Yea. I wouldn't have done this if I didn't. He's gonna be governor in the next five years".

"He's got his sights set even higher" Reggie replied, stepping closer, "To make it clear, we need to take out this FBI agent".

Neal froze.

It wasn't his cover being called into question here.

It was Peter.

"Didn't you just watch the news?" He tried to deflect, "The story's buried, I took care of it".

"For now, yea. But I've seen guys like Burke" He said, "You've buried him now, but that's just gonna heat him up".

Mayfield wasn't going to be so easily dissuaded.

"What's your plan?"

"This prostitute, Lana… I think she knows a lot more about Burke than she's letting on".

"You want to talk to her?"

Reggie smirked.

"Not me. I've got a guy".

"Barrow?"

Neal felt his heart beat start to quicken.

"He'll talk to her".

Pimps didn't just 'talk' to anyone.

"What's he going to do to the girl?"

"He'll scare her. Maybe rough her up a little".

He had to warn Diana.

"And what if he gets out of control?"

Mayfriend shrugged.

"Is that so bad?"

"... When's Barrow gonna have this discussion with the girl?"

A smile.

"Any time now".

Fuck.


Reggie turned to leave, but Neal's worry must have shown on his face because he paused and glanced back at him.

"... Are we going to have a problem?"

Think of the mission think of the mission think of the mission-

"Not at all" Neal forced a blinding smile, "Just looking out for Jennings. I don't want any backlash from this".

He slowly nodded, "Don't worry, Gary's name will stay out of it… And, hey, speaking of Gary, he actually wanted me to go over a few things with you, for the next campaign".

He had a strange glint in his eyes, manic almost.

Neal frowned, "Now?"

"No time like the present".

The man was smirking but there was something… off about it. But if did have any doubts, then Neal not coming with him would only raise more suspicion.

"Of course" He aquised, "Gotta stay ahead, after all".

Mayfield's smile tightened and he gestured at the door leading to a corridor of offices, "Shall we?"

Neal made his grin stick and casually slung his hands in his pockets as he walked in front of the man.

His right hand brushed against his mobile and he desperately tried to recall Peter's number.

Typing it in one-handed without being able to see what he was doing made it all that more difficult, but right now Diana's safety was his main concern.

"In here" Mayfield said, typing a number code into a door that said 'Authorised Personnel Only'.

Neal smiled and nodded and brushed past the man, using the sudden movement to hit send.

Even if his own cover was blown, the least he could do was ensure that Diana was safe first.

He just hoped to whatever deity out there that Peter got the message in time.


"Diana's entering Barrow's hotel room" Jones said, headset pressed to one ear.

Peter nodded and then frowned as his phone buzzed, awkwardly pulling it out in the cramped space of the van.

It was a text message from- from Neal?

SOS DIANA.

But why would he…

Unless-

"Diana's in trouble" He realised, jumping up, "You two come with me, Jones call for backup!"

He took the stairs two at a time, the windbreakers hot on his trail. If anything happened to her…

One floor to go and there was a resounding bang, and Peter wasted no time in kicking down the door once he reached it.

Diana stood there, looking stunning in her yellow dress, one stiletto heel pressing against the wounded Barrow who lay groaning on the floor.

He couldn't help but give a sigh of relief.

"Aw" Diana teased, "You were worried".

"Well, not about you" Peter bantered back, "I was worried what you'd do to him".

He holstered his weapon.

"Think we got enough to arrest Jennings now?"

"Yea" He said, picking up Barrow's gun, "I think we do".


Throwing open the door of Jenning's campaign office, Peter briefly frowned as Neal was nowhere to be seen.

He hadn't called him on the way over, not wanting to risk Gary overhearing or realising the truth and making a run for it. He hadn't texted for the same reason, but he knew that Neal was here and he knew that Neal knew they were about to make the arrest, so for him to not be at the door was… strange.

In front of him, Jennings gave a big thumbs up for the photographer.

"Picture perfect" He muttered, as FBI officers filed in.

Following them into the glass box, he was more than a little annoyed at Jenning's smirk.

"I don't think this is the headline you're looking for, Agent Burke" He said, "Rogue FBI agent arrests innocent man".

He laughed, "You're a saint. Isn't he?"

The two officers smirked as they cuffed him.

"Senator Jennings, you're under arrest".

"This is ridiculous. On what charge?"

"Oh, a bunch of them" He replied breezily, "Campaign finance fraud and as an accessory to murder. I also know about Barrow".

Gary's face fell for a brief moment, before his smirk returned.

"You might know about Barrow… But I know about Caffrey. I'd say we're even, don't you?"

Peter froze.

"Nothing to say to that?"

The agents made to haul him away but a sharp gesture stopped them.

"Where's Caffrey?"

"As if I'd tell you".

He took a threatening step forward, "Unless you want me to add kidnapping a federal agent, conspiracy, and hindering prosecution to the list, tell me where he is".

Jennings scoffed, "Right now, Benjamin's my only bargaining chip, Burke. What makes you think I'd give it up so easily?"

"Where. Is. He?!"

"You know, it all made sense, when Reggie told me who he was. The charm, the smirk, the way everything seemed to just… fall into place, no matter what he did. Of course, now that I know that the FBI were the ones pulling the strings, it doesn't seem so impressive".

Reggie had figured it out. Reggie Mayfield, head of opposition research, the man who ordered Diana's murder… Reggie had Neal.

Turning, he found half a dozen officers waiting for orders.

"Fan out" Peter said, "Search the building, they couldn't have gone far".

Jennings continued to grin as he was marched past.

"Oh, they haven't gone far alright. But you know what they say, Agent Burke. Quality, not quantity".

He stopped at the door and glanced back at him.

"Did you know that Reggie used to be a professional boxer?"


Peter swore as he kicked open the door to yet another empty room.

It was the fourth he'd searched and so far, there were no signs of either Neal or Reggie. Jennings still wasn't talking, so he'd had uniform haul him to a holding cell while he called Jones and Diana and explained the situation.

Logically he knew that Neal was still alive; for all of Jennings taunts, adding murder to his already-lengthy rap sheet would only nail the final nail on his coffin.

So.

Neal was alive.

But that was no guarantee on his safety.

"Peter!"

He quickly turned as Jones jogged up the corridor to meet him.

"Do you have him?"

He sadly shook his head.

"The west hallways clear, but Diana's still searching the offices. I spoke to a few of the witnesses, and they all said that they last saw 'Benjamin' being led away by Mayfield. Neither man looked too happy".

Peter swore.

"Did they say when?"

"Just after Jennings' interview on TV. They were all celebrating; that's why no one paid any attention to where Neal and Mayfield were going".

Just after Jennings' interview… That gave them an almost two hour head start.

Peter let out a heavy breath and ran a tired hand over his face.

Dammit Neal…

The radio clipped to his belt buzzed with static and he froze.

"-oss?"

He shared a look with Jones before lunging for it.

"Diana? What is it? Have you found him?"

"-ink so but-"

Static crackled across the line and he angrily shook the small contraption.

"Diana?"

"-room's locked".

Shit.

"Where are you?"

"-ast hall-" another crackle "-ey code".

"The record room" Jones suddenly said, "Where the finance logs are kept. It would be locked with a six digit code to keep everyone out, especially since they were cooking the books".

He had barely finished his sentence before they took off running.

If they couldn't get someone to open the door for them, then they'd have to break it down, which, despite Jennings' arrest, was illegal unless they had probable cause.

And unfortunately, Peter had no proof that Neal was in there.

No cause, no reason, no warrant.

"Diana, can you get onto Jennings' officers?"

The radio clicked unhelpfully back at him.

"Dammit! Jones, call ahead for paramedics, and then get onto Hughes. We need to know our rights for this!"


The records room was half way down the east corridor. Peter was expecting to see two or three agents grouped outside a locked door, and Diana standing there in her designer dress looking angry and out of place.

What he was not expecting was to find an empty hallway and a wooden door blown off its hinges.

Peter stopped, stared, and then carefully compartmentalized that for later.

Right now, Neal was his main concern.

"Diana?" He called, stepping into a dimly lit room, weapon drawn.

The room was relatively small, walls lined with filing cabinets, but there was another door directly opposite him leading somewhere else. A quick glance around the room revealed it to be empty, so he kept his gun raised and cautiously toed open the other door.

"Peter".

Diana's sigh of relief was barely audible above the beating of his heart that seemed to drown out everything else as he took in the scene before him.

Just like the previous room, this one had back-to-back metal cabinets as well, though most of the room was taken up with large bookshelves piled up with dusty green-coloured notebooks. To his right, lying flat on his stomach with his hands cuffed behind his back, was Mayfield, gagged with his own tie with a bloody lip and staring up at him with hateful eyes. To his left, Diana knelt on the ground, one shoulder of her yellow dress torn, and the front of it stained red. Her belt was missing.

Peter blinked and then forced himself to turn one more final time.

Neal was mostly on the ground, legs splayed out in front of him, shoulders and head propped up against the filing cabinet behind him. A black strip of fabric (Diana's belt, his mind vaguely registered) was tied tightly around his right leg a few inches above the knee. The once-pristine trousers were dusty and scuffed and there was an ever widening red stain sneaking out from beneath the belt. His other leg looked fine, until Peter reached his ankle. There was no sign of blood, and nothing as dramatic as a bone protruding from his flesh, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that it just looked wrong. Twisted, perhaps, or maybe broken again. One hand was lying on the ground next to him, palm up, while the other was loosely gripping his stomach, knuckles bruised and bloody.

And despite everything, Peter couldn't help but feel a little spark of pride at the sight of torn skin.

Neal hadn't gone down without a fight.


Slowly lowering his weapon, he swallowed thickly and made himself look up at the conman's face.

Or at least, what he could see of it.

There was a gash above his right eye, another below it, and a third glancing off a sharp cheekbone. His lip was split and bloody, there were darkening bruises already forming a perfect ring around his throat, and his nose was clearly broken. Most of his face was covered in blood, but what was most worrying, were two bruised eyes remaining shut.

"He was conscious only a few minutes ago" Diana said, one hand keeping pressure on Neal's leg and the other resting gently on his shoulder, "Coherent, too".

Peter holstered his weapon and cautiously walked over, almost afraid to breathe too heavily in case it caused the vulnerable man to fall apart.

"Mayfield did this?"

She nodded.

"There's a dull blow to the back of Neal's head, probably caused by one of these files, and his hands were bound with Mayfield's tie when I finally broke in".

Peter felt a wave of contempt rise up inside of him, a seething vicious loathing for the middle-aged man lying a few feet away.

Getting Neal out of the way, he could understand. Locking him in this room until Jennings came back, he could understand. But this? Beating the man within an inch of his life after giving him a concussion for no damn reason and then tying him up when he tried to defend himself?!

Mayfield already had a good three inches on the younger man, not to mind fifty-odd pounds.

Neal hadn't stood a chance.


"I noticed the door" He replied, voice tight as he hands hovered uselessly over his CI's prone form, "You have a warrant for that?"

She grinned, sharp and proud.

"Didn't need one. Protective Sweep"

Peter frowned.

Protective Sweep was one of the few rare instances where the FBI could investigate a property without a warrant, usually after making an arrest. Jennings was in custody, so that was alright, but Diana would have to prove beyond reasonable doubt that she believed a dangerous accomplice, in this case Reggie Mayfield, was hiding inside a specific location, in this case the records room.

It was a fine line… but one that Peter thought they could manage to pull off.

"You got proof that he was in here?" He asked, nodding in Mayfield's direction.

The grin slowly fell from her face, and the hand resting on Neal's shoulder tightened.

"I… I could hear him".

"Mayfield?"

"... He was hitting Neal".

Peter took a deep breath.

Probable cause, indeed.

Diana gestured at a table a few feet away where a solitary USB stick lay.

"I also found that after I cuffed him. What are the chances that the second set of financial records are on it?"

"Do you have a warrant for that?"

"I already told you, Peter. Protective Sweep".

From between them, Neal suddenly groaned.

"Yea, Peter. It allows the police to legally seize any evidence located in plain view during the sweep".

Bruised eyes slowly flickered open to stare up at him.

"We've used that one before".

He let out a sigh of relief and shuffled closer to the younger man.

"Hey, how are you doing, buddy?"

Neal closed his eyes again.

"I'm trying not to think about it".

"Good choice" He agreed, "I told Jones to call for an ambulance, but my radio's kaput so we won't know when they arrive".

"I've still got mine, boss" Diana reminded him, holding up the small black device, "And they'll have to come to us anyway; I don't want to risk moving him".

"Him is still here, you know".

"Him is barely conscious" She corrected, "Not to mind bleeding all over my nice new dress".

"I'll buy you another one".

"With your ten thousand dollars?" Diana teased, "Hate to break it to you, Caffrey, but you spent all that on me already".

He tried to smirk but it quickly turned into a grimace.

"Hey Peter, did you know Mayfield used to be a boxer?"

"I heard" He muttered, worried as the conman's face contorted briefly in pain, "He didn't give you many rounds, huh?"

"Just the one".

Neal's voice was fainter, breezier almost.

"Then he stabbed me with a pen".

Peter glanced down at the blood staining the edges of the belt wrapped around his thigh.

"Well that's not in the rules".

"Wasn't a very fair match".


Despite their banter, Peter felt his concern growing. Neal was beaten, bloody and bruised and this was only his second case since he got out of prison. He was still going after Kate, and since Mozzie reported that even he couldn't get him to slow down, Peter doubted that the man's current injuries would do so either.

Neal's skin was getting paler, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and mingling in with the streams of blood, his jaw tense and set against the pain. It would be weeks before everything was healed again.

Diana's radio crackled just as they heard sirens in the distance.

Peter let his shoulders fall and mentally urged them to hurry up.

He knew, realistically, that Neal wasn't in any danger of dying, but staring at his fevered bloody skin, he looked dead already.

He could only hope that the conman would take things easier after this, and stop searching for Kate's killer, but at the same time, Peter thought that that was as likely to happen as Jimmy Nolan appearing on TV.