48 hours earlier
Neal arrives at his rendezvous two minutes early and upon climbing out of his cab stands on the sidewalk in the warm afternoon summer heat studying his surroundings. The three-story townhouse, with its Dutch colonial doors and original window settings looked innocent enough. Its position facing the park adding authenticity to the wholesome family façade he's sure it's meant to convey. It's the perfect cover and probably the last place the authorities would look for what essentially amounted to a bordello. He'd been working for violent crimes, undercover for the past six nights, visiting targeted night clubs around the city and getting his face out there. Just when it looked like Ruiz was ready to pull him, after insinuating he wasn't – in his words - shaking his pretty ass hard enough and insulting his alleged parentage by Peter, last night in Maxam, one of the regular bar tenders passed him the invite he'd been waiting for.
Accomplished was how he felt at the time, imagining being able to flaunt the gilded business card in Ruiz' face next time he checked in. Right now though, faced with the reality he might actually have to follow through with his aliases claims of being a 'wild boy' he couldn't deny how nervous he truly was. Neal didn't feel like he was in danger, at least not in the traditional sense, but unlike when he was working with Peter, he had no idea if his back up would respond should things go south. The plan was to get in, establish who the main players were and get out. Simple enough, so long as nobody here expected to him to get to work so to speak, straight away. Ruiz had made it clear his feelings about Neal's deal with the FBI. He accused the White Collar agents of babying him and insisted once violent crimes was done with him he'd wish he was still behind bars. Neal refrained from commenting. He'd not exactly been thrilled to be on temporary loan again, especially after what happen with Agent Rice, but after Peter and Hughes both denied requests for his assistance, a visit by a couple of Ruiz's henchmen at June's late one evening made it clear they wouldn't be taking no for answer. So, knowing Peter wouldn't listen, and Hughes would most certainly be suspicious enough to question any circumventing of authority, Neal agreed to go over both their heads to Bancroft. He liked the man well enough, and knew just what to say to convince him he was needed on Ruiz's team. He has no idea if Peter knows it was him who went above both his and Hughes head, and is frankly in no rush to find out. One dangerous situation at time.
Bolstered by the reminder that in the end it had been his choice to join this case, his intention to prove once and for all he wasn't any run of the mill criminal, Neal squared his shoulders and crossed the street. The tracking bracelet felt heavy around his ankle, a stark reminder of who he really was and why he was here. Ruiz had refused to remove it, stating with implicit firmness that he heard what happened to the last Agent who "borrowed" him from Burke and wasn't about to set himself up for the same fate. Neal didn't bother to point out that it was Agent Rice's arrogance and lack of care that resulted in his kidnapping and her resulting suspension. One because so far Ruiz had shown him even less respect that she had, and two because despite the anklet being a dead giveaway should it be discovered, Neal felt so much safer knowing Peter knew exactly where he was. With that security in mind reducing his anxiety, Neal refocused his mind on the task at hand.
Taking his time to climb the few stairs, approaching the front door Neal flashes back to his first contact with one of the men on their suspect list and, he hopes, his reason for being here.
"Alan." The dark haired, good looking and suave young man leaning against the bar offered his hand openly the second Neal, undercover as Lance Draycott college dropout and self-labelled opportunist stepped up.
Alan's smile was wide and showed just enough teeth to convey friendliness without ruining the sincerity of the gesture. He'd obviously had plenty of practice. Neal extended his own hand and returned the smile he'd used so often himself. It didn't take long before they were chatting like old friends and Alan was telling Lance he was just the type of guy his boss was looking for.
Throughout the whole conversation it was like looking in a mirror. Alan not only dressed with a style of his own like Neal, but his leading conversation and outward confidence certainly made for an interesting experience. Neal had never met another him before and from that moment understood exactly why Ruiz had been so insistent on having him in on this operation. When he said none of his men fit the bill he wasn't kidding. Looking around, the whole club put out a GQ vibe, no one present looked to be over thirty.
"So, you're looking for new opportunity." Alan said casually, offering him a second drink.
Neal flashed him another smile and accepted the tall glass. "I am. Is it that obvious?"
"Word gets around." Alan palms his own glass off of the bar and draws Neal over to the stairs. "Jani from the Braun floated your name. Surprised I haven't seen you in here before now?"
Neal followed Alan up the stairs a step behind, feeling the vibrations of the dance music through his shoes and the metal railing he used to navigate in the darkness as they left the strobing lights of the dance floor behind them. "I've been away a while."
Jani was their inside man, a Finnish exchange student looking to strike a deal with the FBI after being caught trying to blackmail a senator with indecent images of his twenty-two-year-old daughter. The intel on the case came from that investigation, revealing Jani wasn't just some voyeuristic pervert and there was more going on than a few pictures taken during a night of consensual sex.
That night Neal left Alan sometime around 1am with a verbal agreement to meet up in Maxam again the next evening to meet 'the boss'. He'd been optimistic for a swift turn around that had him back in white Collar by the end of the week. Only Alan didn't show. Neal continued to visit the club and the others as planned, but he hasn't seen Alan since that night. Not wanting to come across as too desperate Neal made subtle enquires but no one seemed to know where he'd gone and now, as he turns the handle on the unlocked door of the unassuming house, ignoring the queasy feeling in his stomach telling something isn't right, Neal finds himself hoping it'll be Alan he's meeting on the other side.
When his head hits the wall, a result of trying to fight off the owner of an arm that had wrapped around his throat the second he stepped inside, Neal regrets ignoring that gut instinct. As he drops in a boneless heap to the floor, his last thoughts are of Peter and how disappointed he's going to be when he finds out he's screwed up yet again.