Accusations
Sitting in the hallway on a basic two-seat bench, Peter's ears were attuned to the open door beside him. It was the access point to his friend's mind because it allowed him to hear the drugged ramblings Neal was uttering. Whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be seen, because Neal wasn't speaking nicely about him.
Leaning forward with his head in his hands, Peter listened as Neal went through his answers to the treasure questions yet again. It was the third time he had gone through them. When he wasn't talking about the treasure, Neal had rambled through his memories of Peter's treatment before his abduction, and the repeated references to him being thrown away.
Elizabeth sat quietly listening to the words with her hand rubbing Peter's back while she lay her head on the back of his shoulder.
"He thinks I did all of that to him…" Peter rested his eyes on his palms in the hopes of stemming the tears pooling there. Neal hadn't just been crying out about the interrogation he had endured or the treatment Peter had legitimately put him through, he had accused him of torture as well with pleas for him to stop some treatment or another.
Putting her other arm around Peter's torso, Elizabeth tried to hug him from the side and offer physical comfort. Then she kissed the cheek nearest to her before shifting her face into the crook of his neck where she could feel his pulse beating near her ear. Whispering words of comfort, she reminded him that Neal had been pumped full of drugs the whole time. His cries didn't mean he blamed Peter, just that he was confused.
Shuttering as he heaved a shaky sigh out, Peter couldn't believe that. "He might be confused, but he has specifically cried for me to stop, stop hurting him, stop questioning him, stop pretending that I care…" Turning to her with tears in his eyes, Peter was the most hurt by the last part. "Neal, Neal thinks I was just pretending to be friends with him? How could he think that?"
"I don't know Hon. They had him for a while, and we don't know what all he's been through." Elizabeth didn't like what Neal had been through, but she didn't like how his words of accusation were cutting her husband so deeply either.
"Peter Burke?" A group of men approached them with Hughes in the lead.
"Peter," Hughes stated his name in a solemn fashion.
"They're here to arrest me, aren't they?" Peter sighed as Elizabeth held him tighter. "I don't know how or why, but Neal has been rambling things in there, and he genuinely believes I was the one who held him captive and tortured him… And I don't see him being that certain unless someone did something very well, whether it was drugging him, or something more, is a question you just answered."
Trying to walk in the middle, Hughes knew Peter hadn't committed the crimes he was being accused of, but he had also seen some of the evidence to know it didn't look good. "There is recorded video and audio evidence showing you as the person… holding him captive and torturing him. The warehouse had piles of videos, and we've only begun to find what they contain."
Standing up, Peter pulled El into a last hug and kissed her goodbye with surprising acceptance. "Don't worry hon. We'll figure it out." When he had said goodbye he stepped forwards, passed Hughes his badge and service weapon, and allowed the OPR agents to cuff him while reading him his rights.
Walking down the hall, Peter wasn't paying much attention to the agents beside him as they guided him out to their vehicle. He found it ironic after the many times he had walked others along in cuffs. Now he was experiencing the walk of shame, and the firm motion as the agents helped him duck his head into the car with his hands cuffed behind him. This was something he had done with Neal three times, but now it was his turn for what he had both literally and allegedly put the con though.
Reaching the FBI, he experienced an even more humiliating walk of shame to enter the Bureau. Many agents stopped and watched the procession and the whispers were so loud as to be almost deafening to Peter.
When they reached the interrogation room, Peter felt the cold of the chains as he was cuffed to the table. The agents were being gentle enough, but it was still startling to find himself on the other side of the table.
"Do you know what you're being accused of?" The lead agent asked as he took his seat.
"No. We discovered my consultant earlier this afternoon, took him to the hospital, and he's been rambling through his delirium about the circumstances prior to his disappearance and during. According to him, he was tortured and interrogated, but… he…" Choking on the words, Peter could hardly think it. "He thinks I did it to him." In an uncharacteristic motion, Peter wasn't sweating or showing fear, he was fighting the tears of emotional pain.
"That is only part of it. Your former boss hasn't seen all of the footage, even we've only begun. However, there is a lot more than just torturing your former consultant." The second agent answered as he laid folders out on the table and set up a television.
"What are the rest of the charges?" Peter wondered.
Sliding the folders forwards, the second agent started listing them off. "We have evidence of you raiding Caffrey's storage unit to steal his art and supplies, the Nazi treasure was in the warehouse with footage of you unloading it, one shows what you did when Caffrey allegedly ran, and then there is a whole pile with your visits to him in captivity."
"Allegedly ran?" Peter found himself wanting to know more about that situation, as much as he dreaded it.
"You're going to play it that way, huh?" The second agent frowned before he started up the television.
Turning his focus, Peter watched as the camera showed the transportation vehicle pulling over in an empty parking lot. Then to his surprise, the agents from his team climbed out hauling Neal with them before standing to either side of him giving the camera view of their faces enough for him to read their lips. Then according to what he read, they were ordering Neal to run. Facing away towards the camera, Neal planted his feet and refused. 'I can't do that to Peter' rolled off of his lips. One of the agents laughed at Neal as he commented about Peter throwing Neal away, reminding him how his friend had turned his back. 'Doesn't mean I have to let him down' Neal remained planted in place. Suddenly, Peter jumped as he watched the blood blossom on Neal's abdomen. Only then did Neal collapse to land on the pavement. When a mirror image of Peter walked forward holding a smoking gun, Peter turned for a trash can only to wretch over the empty air.
"Can't stomach watching your own actions?" The second agent said with a sneer. "Agents like you make me sick. You walk tall and proud, speak justice and the law until you're caught just as surely as the criminals you deem yourself better than." He turned his back on Peter much as Peter had on Neal.
Closing his eyes as he leaned forward onto the table, Peter promised himself that he would apologize to Neal if he ever got the chance, and he would never turn his back on the con again.
"I think we need to go further into this. If you didn't like that, maybe you'll confess before we get through the clips we've identified thus far." The first agent said as he directed the second to switch tapes.
Knowing it wasn't going to be pretty, Peter lifted his head and watched the screen as it showed the inside of the warehouse. This camera had audio so he didn't need to read their lips and could focus on the picture as a whole.
Big doors slid open and the prison transport vehicle drove in to park. Dak and Brad opened the rear doors before moving to retrieve the transport box. Rolling it up to the van, they pulled an unconscious Neal out and stripped him before putting him into the box. There the lookalike bandaged his injuries and instructed the agents on how to attach the tubes and wires to his body. Finally, with him strapped in, they wheeled the box over to the wall, the lookalike closed the lid, and they all walked away.
"How about we skip forward a few days? These next clips get even more interesting… I never would have seen you as this sadistic, but that's appearances for you." The second agent said as he started changing the tape.
What followed was round after round of torture and interrogation. It showed the look-alike cruelly belittling Neal and accusing him of withholding the treasure. Around and around, Peter got a glimpse of what Neal had been reacting to in his delirious pain.
"Do you want to know an interesting coincidence?" The second agent changed tapes again and started into another series. "I find this one particularly fascinating."
The coincidence in question happened to be the clips of the lookalike raiding Neal's storage unit and showing him particularly admiring the Chrysler building before loading it into the truck with a crack about preferring the original. Then they changed to a camera view as Peter's look alike worked with Dak and Brad in addition to several unknown persons to unload crates of Nazi treasure into the warehouse. Joking while they did the work, there were comments about framing Neal and laughter about how no one would suspect them as everyone would be too busy pursuing their fall man. To solidify where the coincidence commentary came from, the agents reviewed some of the torture clips showing the lookalike interrogating Neal with torture for the treasure located in the room behind him.
"Did you not like that coincidence? For some reason, I thought you would be amused by it." The sneer was back as the second agent stopped the tape and turned off the television.
"You don't have to confess, we have more than enough evidence to put you away, Burke." The first agent piled the folders and the video clips. "And that is without even going through the entire pile of video clips. All we had to do was peruse a few choice selections that our anonymous citizen gave us."
Wishing he could wake up from the nightmare, Peter put his forehead on the cool table and tried to sooth his churning gut. He knew he hadn't done any of those things, but the camera feeds indicated something worse than what he was expecting. It wasn't Neal's drugged ramblings or even a good mask. Someone who looked a great deal like him was intentionally targeting him and using Neal cruelly to do so. "Doppelganger," Peter said as he remembered the word.
Pausing in their activities, both agents looked at Peter. "What?" They quested at the same time.
"I said doppelganger. That wasn't me, he didn't seem to be wearing a mask, and he looks a lot like me. A doppelganger is the only explanation I can think of beyond plastic surgery, and a lookalike would be cheaper to come by." Peter explained to the agents.
Snorting, the second agent took the seat across from him. "So, you expect us to believe that is some guy who looks like you did it? Let's be real Burke, that isn't likely."
"The numbers vary, but it is estimated that there are approximately seven to eight people on the planet who look alike at any given time. Think about Elvis and how many people who run around dressing up like him. Come on, haven't you ever seen a lookalike contest or those celebrities who look alike things? Sure, finding someone who looks like me doesn't seem likely, but you've got him on tape there." In response to their skeptical glances, he challenged them. "You obviously don't believe me, so why don't you track down where I was during those times. I work a lot as my wife and team will attest to you, there should be plenty of times where I'm clearly in the office and not at that warehouse. Even my fingerprints alone should be sufficient data to give reasonable doubt." It was risky, if they had spied on him, they might have timed their activities to when he couldn't be accounted for, and fingerprints could be acquired as easily as taking a solid smooth surfaced item he'd touched.
Seeing it as a means to settle the matter, the first agent agreed to the challenge and they asked him if he had anything else to say.
"No. There isn't much to say to that until there is evidence just as solid that it wasn't me." Peter couldn't fight them, but he had pointed out some of his best hopes.
With their interrogation complete, the two agents unlocked the chains and lifted Peter from the chair. He was shaking and a little unsteady after the video feeds, but he was determined to stand on his own so he pulled it together within a few minutes.
Walking back into the hallway, Peter was surprised to see Hughes standing with Jones and Diana. They weren't near the interrogation room, but they had been allowed to see him before he was taken to prison.
Nodding to them, Peter didn't encourage conversation. He couldn't take much more, and he wasn't looking forward to the prospects of what awaited him. It wasn't his warm bed at home with his wife, but a cold jail cell where his bunkmate also wore an orange jumpsuit.
Keeping their distance as directed, Jones and Diana nodded to him in an effort to provide some encouragement. Hughes didn't have much to say either but advised him to keep his head down and avoid confrontation until the situation could be cleared up.
Giving them another nod, Peter was ushered from the building, through the process, and soon found himself being guided into solitary confinement.
"You get your own bunk, bosses orders." The guard vaguely explained.
Grateful for the privacy, Peter's primary worry was that his doppelganger might not be done with him. With nothing he could do, Peter glanced around his cell before sitting on the bed. He couldn't go to sleep, so he stared at the ceiling, listened to the other inmates, and worried. Worried about his former consultant, the best friend he had betrayed. He worried about his wife and team. Worried about how his case would turn out. Would the agents be able to find the doppelganger used to frame him, would they be able to find evidence he hadn't been present through the torture and other events, and would they be able to close his case correctly before it was too late?
There was a lot of worrying to do, and it kept Peter awake all night.
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