Escape
Peter met Hughes and Ruiz by the elevator the next morning.
"Maria Fiametta has the Bible," Peter informed Hughes, preventing himself from grinning since he knew the bastard beside his boss heard it too.
"Who?" Ruiz asked and Peter told them what she knew about her on the way up. "She probably killed Paul for it," he ended the story.
"How did you know she was in on it?" Hughes asked Peter as they stepped out of the elevator and walked into the office.
"Lucky hunch." He saw Hughes tried to hide a smile in that stern face of his. He did not like Ruiz either.
"Ruiz?" Hughes asked. The nasty little fellow followed them as if he had considered he had the right to know.
He checked his phone a final time.
"I checked Paul's credit," he muttered. "He got wired 10 G's from a shell corporation in Gibraltar owned by your lady professor."
Peter allowed himself to grin this time. The first thing the guy had done was to check it up.
"Oh, by the way, how did last night's fishing go?" Hughes asked. "Get any tape?"
"Equipment failure," Peter returned. It was true. Of what sort he did not have to tell them.
They walked up the short staircase from the office landscape to the rooms.
"But Caffrey says she has the book," Peter told them. "She'll sell, but only to him."
"Of course he'd say that," Hughes grunted. "The terms?"
"Two-fifty, wired to a Swiss account."
"No way," Ruiz declared as if he had any saying in this. "What if he cuts a deal with her? He runs away with the book."
"What choice do we have?" Peter asked.
"We don't," his boss decided and did not care for Ruiz sound of protest. "I don't need another dead body in the East River. We'll set up a dummy account."
Peter frowned. Hughes considered it settled but Peter did not.
"That's risky. What if she takes a shot at Neal?"
"I wouldn't lose any sleep over it," Ruiz snorted.
Peter sent him a glare. Neal had the right to the same protection as any agent, no matter what this scumbag thought of their consultant.
Neal swung up the few steps up the stairs and sent the two grumpy men in front of Peter a beaming smile each.
"Morning, guys. Everybody sleep okay?"
Peter smiled. This kid was just incredible. He knew very well that Ruiz and Hughes were not his biggest fans. And yet he shared his charm and positive spirit to them as well as everybody else around him.
Ruiz left without a word.
"Just set up the account, Peter," Hughes muttered and aimed for his office.
Peter nodded for him to follow him to his office. Neal did. Peter sat down by his desk.
"You'll arrange with Cindiana Jones for the buy tomorrow," his handler instructed as his fingers ran over the keyboard.
"The money?"
"Hughes approved of the deal."
Neal smiled and felt this heart beat faster.
"And of me to make the deal?"
"Well, you told me she would only sell to you, so what choice do we have?"
Peter fiddled with a phone.
"Cayman's First National." He rose from the chair and handed Neal the phone. "I'll e-mail you the PIN right before the buy."
Amazed, Neal looked at the display. Two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollar on the account.
"First they send me to prison. Tomorrow they give me a quarter million taxpayer dollars in an offshore account. Guess that shows how much confidence they have in you."
Peter nodded.
"And how much I have in you."
Neal stared at Peter. Did he trust him not to run? Peter sat down by his desk again.
"I told you, I'll have to cut my anklet for Maria to trust me."
"I know," Peter confirmed.
Neal could not find a word to say. Peter watched him.
"Will you run?" he asked.
"No," Neal replied. It was the truth. He had made a deal with himself long ago to never lie to Peter. During the interrogation, he had seen it as a challenge to be able to answer any question without lying and still never give up a single bit of vital information. Now it was a matter of gaining Peter's trust.
"Good. Because I want to show bastards like Ruiz that you're a valuable member of this team. Please, don't screw it up."
Neal smiled. He remembered Peter out on the pier.
"That guy really pissed you off, didn't he?"
"Yeah," Peter nodded. "Where is my jacket, by the way."
His handler was not the man who did forget things and kept an eye on his possessions. Well, Neal had no intention to steal the jacket. He shrugged as if it was nothing to it.
"Sorry. Left it at home. You'll get it tomorrow. I promise."
Neal was about to leave Peter's office for his desk.
"Neal?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you up to something?"
Peter's eyes studied him. Not angry or accusing, just curious. He sent his handler a smile.
"Why should I be?"
"Because that jacket seems to never find its way back here."
"Shall I walk back home and get it for you, right away?"
"No. But you better have it with you, tomorrow."
"It will be safely returned to you tomorrow. Trust me."
When Peter walked down the stairs the next morning he felt like he had not been sleeping at all. El was already awake and was working by the dining-room table.
"Morning. You're up early," she commented. Like she had not been up for an hour already.
"Yeah. I couldn't sleep. Big day."
"I can tell. You're wearing your lucky tie."
He realized he had picked the special tie without thinking. It was the tie that he had been wearing the day he dared to talk to Elisabeth the first time. Then he had not thought of it as ugly, but he had come to terms with his luck that his future wife saw beyond his lack of interest in fashion. Since then he had worn the tie for good luck sometimes, mostly when it came to situations concerning his wife.
"Hey, did you find the Bible?"
"Yeah. The professor had it. Neal's gonna buy it back."
He fought with his tie. It was in an odd material, hard to tie properly.
"You're giving him money? Wow. No wonder lucky tie."
"No way. We set up a fake wire transfer."
El turned to him, giving him her full attention.
"Then what are you worried about?"
"He has to convince her that he's working us. Which means he has to cut his anklet for real. The book's worth a fortune. He could run with it." God knew what he would let loose today. He had cold feet and had had that all night.
Elisabeth rose and took command over his tie.
"Well, you have a lot more faith in a ratty old tie than you do Neal."
"Yeah. Well, this ratty old tie has never forged a priceless map of Vinland."
A crime he had not known about and it was probably not the only thing the FBI missed. What else was there to find? He knew he should investigate but did not want to. If he believed Neal could walk the thin and narrow then it was the future that counted, not his past.
"Why is it so hard for you to believe that he'll do the right thing?"
"Let's just say that's not his first instinct."
"And trust isn't yours."
"Occupational hazard. I like to know I can count on something."
"I know you do." El gazed at him with a serious face. "Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith."
She gave him a kiss and returned to her computer. His wife trusted Neal. Perfect. Had he charmed her? Or did she see something he did not dare to see?
He wished he could trust Neal. He wanted to. But he was a federal agent and Neal a convicted felon who avoided them for years. The only reason Peter had to trust Neal was their odd bond and it was not good enough. Not when it came to work. It was not the next door neighbor asking to borrow a book or a tool. This was a criminal who fooled the law and it was Peter's damn job to bring Neal back to prison if he did not stay within his boundaries. Then he could not allow himself to trust.
Peter entered the van. Lauren was already there since she drove it here earlier in the morning.
"Everything working?" he asked.
"Yeah," she confirmed and put away her book. Peter saw the sidewalk across the street and the entrance to Maria Fiametta's office. This where Neal would turn up in about an hour. Peter took a seat.
Lauren took the opportunity to question him about his career and asking for advice. In the middle of it all, Ruiz turned up. Peter had hoped he would not show up, but coming so late as he did was not professional. It could draw attention to the van.
Ten minutes later Neal walked down the sidewalk in a white shirt and his hands in his pocket. He stopped outside the office and wandered back and forth, waiting.
"Look at him," Ruiz hissed. "Son of a bitch should be in leg irons, you ask me."
"Nobody asked you, Ruiz." Peter pointed out.
"He conned you too, Pete, huh?"
Peter did not bother to comment. He knew Neal had not conned him into anything, that he was sure of. No matter what other people thought, it was not Neal's silver tongue that had got him the deal. There were more to people than a single epithet.
Lauren straightened up in her chair.
"Here she comes."
Neal grinned as Maria walked down the stairs.
"Hey," she greeted him.
He took her in his arms and mumbled in her ear.
"We have a chaperone. White van over my left shoulder."
She giggled. And giggled even more as his hands wandered over her body. If she had a gun it was in her purse. He let his left hand search a little further down her thigh. This would surely annoy Ruiz at least if he was in the van.
He let go of her.
"You're clean."
"Thank you. Your turn."
She brought out a device from her bag and started by his thigh and crossed his groin on the way up. Well, he had been pretty intimate with her too.
"No bugs. So where's my money?"
Neal held up the phone he got from Peter.
"Where's my book?"
Maria pointed at a red sports car and unlocked it with the remote.
"You ready?"
"When I cut the anklet, our friends are gonna know I'm running. Can you lose them? I'm not going back in."
"I've been chased by the carabinieri, drug cartels in Bogota-"
"I get it. You're good." Neal brought out a multi-tool and opened the scissors. He knelt, gazing at the van. And cut the band to the anklet. Though it was all planned and sanctioned by the FBI a shiver went through his body. If he was considered a fugitive he would go back to prison for life.
"With all due respect, Neal, we could make quite a fine pair."
"With all due respect, Maria, shut up and drive."