Chapter Six

Cowboys and Bendy Straws

There was something immensely satisfying about watching the feds bust in to take down the bad guy (assuming one wasn't said bad guy being brought down), but it would have been better if they could have actually seen what was happening. "Can we get a little further away?" she huffed, peering through a pair of binoculars. "My nose isn't bleeding yet."

"We're close enough," Peter told her, snatching the binoculars away.

"How's it going?" she heard Spencer ask as he came up to join the three of them.

Diana shrugged lightly. "We're about to find out."

A broad grin split Peter's face, and he handed the binoculars back. "There it is." She took a look to see Larssen being led out in cuffs by Agent Roe.

"Now there's a sight," she mused, pleased. Though, was it just her imagination, or did Larssen seem a little too calm for someone who was just arrested by the FBI? It was like watching in slow motion as the man's wrists came free of his cuffs before turning around and decking Roe in the face. "No. No, no, no." She finally understood the annoyance of watching a criminal escape their cuffs as she watched him stoop down and pull Roe's gun from its holster. "He's got Roe's gun. Where's the car?"

"Two blocks in the wrong direction," Diana hissed.

It wasn't often that Nora was at a loss, but without a car, she couldn't see how they were catching up to an armed Larssen unscathed. Sure, Jones, Hughes, and Roe just witnessed the fact that Larssen was framing Peter, but they couldn't just let him get away. Not after everything that he'd done. Not after he nearly murdered her best friend and framed her partner for crimes he never would have committed.

"Officer," Peter's voice called from behind her, drawing all their eyes to a police officer who stood next to a tall chestnut horse, "I need to borrow your horse."

The officer looked at Peter as if the man was crazy, already climbing up into the saddle like he owned the horse himself. "FBI," Diana added, flashing her badge, "in pursuit of a fugitive."

"Okay," the officer relented easily, backing off and letting Peter mount the horse unobstructed.

"Go get him, Boss."

Peter took off after Larssen atop his steed as the three of them watched in wonder. "Would you look at that," she muttered. Never in a million years would she have took the man as a secret pro at horseback riding. Sure, he'd mentioned knowing a thing or two about horses after his chat with Bilal, but that didn't mean he could ride horses. Yet there he went, galloping along like some modern day knight.

It had been a while since Peter had ridden a horse, but he learned very quickly that it was much like riding a bike. As he urged the horse after Larssen, it all came rushing back to him. The man had gotten a decent enough head start, but a man couldn't hope to outrun a horse on foot and Peter quickly overtook him, leaping off the horse to tackle him to the ground.

Larssen struggled in his grasp, reaching for the gun he'd tucked in his back pocket. They were pretty evenly matched as they fought for the upper hand, Larssen trying to point his gun at Peter, and Peter trying to keep him subdued. With a quick but precise punch, Larssen went still and Peter was able to take the gun from his slackened grasp. Panting, Peter glanced up, suddenly aware of the crowd his exploits had drawn, given the fact that they were in a busy, public park. People stared, murmuring among themselves and taking videos on their cellphones. "It's alright," he assured. "It's alright."

It was an easy enough matter to cuff Larssen again, this time ensuring he had nothing up his sleeves (something Peter considered himself very good at, given his relationship with Nora). With the gun in one hand, Peter mounted the horse once more and began escorting the man back the way they'd come.

They just reached the edge of the park, where a police barricade had been set up in pursuit of Larssen, when Nora, Diana, Spencer, an FBI agent, and the police officer who he took the horse from came sprinting around the corner. "You got him!" Diana laughed, slightly winded.

Nora looked like a kid on Christmas with her thousand watt smile as she sauntered up to Peter. "Nice riding, Butch."

"Thanks, Sundance." He climbed down from the horse as the officer took the reins, still looking baffled and irritated about the strange turn of events. "Thanks," he offered blandly. Larssen was taken into custody again, and Nora and Diana looked at Peter expectantly. "Larssen's got a hard face," he noted.

"Oh, but it felt good, didn't it?" Diana beamed.

"Yes, it did."

"Hey, before you get your badge back," Nora mused under her breath, "there is a seven-man con that I've been meaning-"

"No," he cut her off firmly, even though he was (reasonably) sure it was just a joke. "The Burke Seven is hereby disbanded."

She flashed him the doey blue eyes. "We made a good team." He sighed in exasperation, but didn't argue the fact. "Oh, come on, admit it. You enjoyed yourself."

He laughed. Okay, sure. It was pretty fun, not that he would ever let her know that. He'd never hear the end of it if she thought he could be swayed to the dark side. "A good con never admits to anything," he evaded, much to Diana's amusement. "You taught me that."

"I'm gonna call Moz and give him the good news," she called as he and Diana turned and started walking away.

Peter watched from the sidelines as things were squared away by the rest of the team. Technically, he was still suspended and everything he'd done had been under the scope of the law. There was still some uncertainty in where that would leave him, in the end.

"Hey," Spencer called, coming to a stop next to him. "Nice riding back there, cowboy."

"Thanks."

He turned, watching FBI agents carting out the boxes of contraband that would soon be bound for the evidence warehouse. "Any idea why Larssen was so intent on shipping Nazi dinnerware?"

"Not really, no." He sighed heavily. "Larssen's not talking, but it's clearly important to whoever he's working for."

"Where was it going?" he wondered.

"Argentina," he explained, "which isn't exactly in the Bureau's jurisdiction."

"It's in mine." He arched an eyebrow, confused where Spencer was going with this. "Sterling Bosh has a few clients in South America. And I have vacation days coming up."

"Are you offering to go to Argentina?" he asked bluntly, unsure what Spenser's sudden interest in all of this was. He just grinned. "Could be dangerous."

"Could be fun." And how could Peter argue with that logic? "Tell the missus I'll send her a post card," he joked, already heading away.

Peter stared after him, confused. "The missus?" Nora, he presumed, though whatever the meaning behind the joke was, Peter didn't know.

Back at the office, Peter was formally reinstated, and he took a moment to decompress in his office. Everything was back to the way it was meant to be, and Peter was awash with relief. He was staring out the window, admiring the view he'd seen thousands of time when there was a knock on his door. He turned to see Diana stepping inside, something hidden behind her back.

"We got you a welcome back gift," she announced, revealing a new FBI mug with a red bow on top.

"A new mug," he chuckled, taking it. "Look at that. Oh, that's good. Almost as good as what Hughes got me." He tapped his badge for emphasis.

"It's great to have you back, Boss."

The sound of footsteps climbing the stairs drew their attention, and they turned to see Jones leading Larssen into the conference room. With a heavy look, they went to join in on the interrogation.

Mozzie, much the same as he ever was, had been cryptic on the phone, and Nora made her way home as quickly as she could. He was sitting at the table when she stepped into her apartment. "Hey." He looked positively giddy as she shut the door behind her. "So, what did you want to show me?"

He presented a hospital food tray to her with a bright, "ta-da!" Colorful bendy straws were taped to it in a very specific, very familiar shape. She stared down at it in disbelief. "This is what the music box encoded," he continued. "Now, I know bendy straws aren't the most elegant medium, but they make the point. It's a fractal design." She could barely hear him over the blood rushing in her ears, and she turned away, falling into her habit of pacing when she needed to clear her head. Mozzie continued explaining something she already knew. "Fractals are used in, like, everything, from predicting natural disasters to metallurgy. There's one in your cellphone."

"Moz," she huffed, spinning back around, "I've seen something like this before. I know who's behind everything." She swallowed hard. "We both know who he is, Moz. He's the man who made me who I am today."

Mozzie stared blankly, glancing between her somber expression and the bendy straw fractal. "Wait. You think… You think Vincent Adler is behind all of this?"

"I do now."

Vincent Adler. A man she thought - hoped - she would never see again. The embodiment of a betrayal that still stung, even to that day, burning deep inside her despite how stupid it was to carry resentment so long. He'd taught her a lot of things, and forced her to learn a very harsh, very crucial lesson about trust, and what a double-edged sword it could be. Her hands shook as all the old memories came rushing back. What Adler had to do with anything that had been happening, she couldn't fathom, but the more she thought about it, the more the pieces clicked into place. There was no doubt in her mind that he was capable of masterminding all of the misfortunes that had befallen them over the past year. No doubt that he was willing to get his hands dirty.

Adler was the reason Kyle was dead.

Nora poured herself a drink.