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Chapter Four
Keeping things simple included Neal's criteria for the two meetings he needed to be scheduled immediately. He didn't give Peter a time frame for the delivery of the shipment, but there was definitely a sense of urgency that said things were moving fast. This had been the topic, for the most part, during the rest of their lunch at the Waldorf.
Neal agreed to let Peter meet with his friend at Organized Crime, and to the two of them presenting the offer to the DEA. Peter would have to substantiate Neal's offer by providing the back story, at least initially, and Neal didn't want to be present for that. If the DEA agreed to accept his offer, a meeting with someone from the attorney general's office was the first order of business. When Peter pressed for details to present to Singleton and the DEA, Neal had only given the basics.
The numbers themselves were noteworthy; over sixteen million dollars of illegal drugs coming into the City of New York and he had a way to track them down the pipe to the distributors. He said that was enough information to see if they were interested in his offer or not. Peter knew they would be more than interested. They would jump on the opportunity if they believed the information was credible. Neal knew it too; Peter could tell by the look of confidence in his eyes.
But the details-the when, where and how-would come after Neal had certain assurances. He had a written Terms of Service prepared and once all involved parties, plus a representative from the Attorney General's office, agreed to them and signed the paperwork, he would outline the finer details of the plan. Immunity for himself and those assisting him was top on the list. There were other terms; Neal said with a small smile, but they were all more than reasonable given the scope of the operation. He didn't volunteer what those terms were, and Peter didn't ask. He wasn't sure he wanted to know but assumed he would know soon enough.
It still seemed unreal to Peter that he was sitting across from his friend and former CI. Even though he insisted on being called Nathan, and his clothing and hairstyle had changed, some things had not changed at all. He was enjoying being back in the city and more than that, enjoying being back in action. The excitement in his eyes was the Neal Caffrey he had known before. And it was contagious; Peter felt a similar excitement as he rose from the table. His work had been good the past two years. He had overseen operations and closed cases, but it had not been the same without Neal.
He knew he had some paperwork ahead, and some explaining to do about the reappearance of Neal Caffrey, but he didn't mind. This could be the biggest case of his career, and he and Neal were working it together. Things seemed right for the first time in a long time.
"Elizabeth wants you to come for dinner one day this week," Those words coming out of his mouth just made the moment more real. Just like old times. "I told her I'd be seeing you and she told me to press you for a date."
"That's nice," Neal replied, "But let me get back to you on that." Neal had never turned down an invitation from Elizabeth before; perhaps he did have some regrets about having deceived her the evening before.
"She won't let you dodge for long," Peter said, "She is really happy you are back."
"Not back, Peter," Neal corrected gently, "just in town. For now."
The tug of war was still in play, and Peter modified his statement. "Then she's glad you are in town." He smiled, "for now."
"Only because she doesn't know why I'm here," Neal's eyes met his. "I take it you haven't told her yet."
"You didn't tell her last night," Peter mumbled uncomfortably. Neal not telling her the truth and him not doing it was two very different things, and he knew it.
"You didn't want me too," Neal reminded him. "And I didn't lie," Neal said simply, "I just didn't tell her everything."
So typically Neal. "So you were really looking for rental property in Philadelphia for a gallery?"
"Yes, for a gallery and…well, other things."
"Well, I haven't lied to her either," Peter assured him, knowing that the distinction was not valid. "and I will tell her more once I know more. No use in upsetting her prematurely."
Neal looked as if he was going to protest but then shrugged instead. "You don't have to explain to me; I understand perfectly." His eyes met Peter's, "No use in upsetting someone before you have to."
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The meeting between Peter and Donald Singleton of Organized Crime went well. Peter had known Don for several years; they had trained together at Quantico. He had never personally worked with Neal Caffrey, but he knew his reputation, and he knew what his death had done to Peter and the entire White Collar Team. To explain the current offer, Peter filled Singleton in on the story from Venezuela, and of course, who Nathan Clay really was. The man listened at first in disbelief and then amazement.
"Neal Caffrey," Donald mused at the end of Peter's monolog, "Alive and well. I can't believe it. And he's been living as Nathan Clay all this time?"
"Yes, in Paris," Peter said truthfully, "He was in danger of reprisal after his last undercover operation. He decided it was safer for everyone for Neal Caffrey to be dead."
"But when you were taken, he came back from the dead, traveled to South American and orchestrated your rescue." He shook his head, "He must be some friend and one hell of an operative. He pulled all that off in a foreign country without any backup?"
"Neal can manufacture backup," Peter said with a smile. He knew Mozzie had been there but didn't disclose that fact. "And he is the best I've ever worked with. He can pull off the impossible; If he says he can do this, trust me, he can."
"Sixteen million dollars," Singleton whistled, then looked at Peter. "Does he really has the means to bring something that big into the city? And track it?"
"Like I said, if he says he can, he can," Peter answered. It was disconcerting to think that Neal could find a way to smuggle that kind of cargo into the city. Even dead two years, he still had some seriously illegal resources to draw from. Or he and Mozzie did. Mozzie had been in charge of logistics. "But we can't move on this shipment" he reiterated, the seriousness of the fact coming through in his voice, "they'd trace it straight back to him. We track this one, document all the players, and be ready to move on the next go around. That is the only way he does this."
"I understand the situation," Singleton assured him, "we've done this kind of thing before, albeit not on this scale. We'll track the lines of distribution, gather enough to get warrants to dig deeper on the key players." He looked at Peter, "So he arranges for a drug lord's hacienda to be raided, gets him sent to prison and gets a job offer in return." He shook his head and smiled at Peter. "I can't wait to meet him."
"He'll be glad to hear it," Peter said, "Who are you working with at the DEA?"
"Scott Elliot," he answered, picking up the phone on his desk. "I will give him a call."
"No details about who Nathan Clay really is," Peter told him, "It's a condition he's insisting on. Just tell him what he's willing to provide and set a meeting with someone from the Attorney General's office. He has some conditions; after that is settled, he'll provide the information we need."
"Elliot," he said into the phone, "Tell him it's Agent Singleton and it's important." He covered the receiver with his hand, "Conditions? What does he want?"
"A guarantee that we won't out him to Cordero," Peter answered, "And immunity for his part in transporting the drugs. Among other things."
"Other things?" Singleton raised his eyebrows.
"I have no idea," Peter stated honestly, "Have Elliot get a meeting with the Attorney General's office and then we'll both know."
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"Agent Burke," Agent Elliot said as he extended his hand. "Thank you for bringing this opportunity to our attention. It's almost unbelievable." The look he gave Peter and his tone indicated he was serious; he had his doubts about the offer. But to his credit, in spite of his doubts, he had arranged the meeting Nathan Clay had requested. Everyone was present except for Neal.
Peter had offered to give him a ride, but he had declined to say he had another appointment. Nathan Clay, he informed Peter, had a driver's license. Both of those disclosures caused Peter some distress.
"Neal-" Peter began.
"Nathan," Neal corrected through the receiver, "Really Peter, you got to do better. You didn't used to have such a hard time remembering what to call me. Are you so out of practice?"
"Okay, Nathan," Peter's voice was sarcastic, "How exactly-"
"I am an excellent driver, Peter, there's nothing to worry about."
Of course that wasn't the point, Peter thought, but moved on to the next area of concern. "What appointment-"
"Look, Peter," Neal interrupted impatiently, "I will see you at the meeting; and don't you dare call me Neal."
The call had been disconnected without Peter getting an answer to either of his questions. The first he probably didn't want or need to know. But the second one Peter knew had to do with the current operation. That one he did need to know about. He hoped that after the meeting, and once the agreement had been signed, Neal would be true to his word and give the details they needed to move forward.
The meeting set, everyone was waiting on Nathan Clay; some eagerly and others with obvious reservations.
Peter knew Doug Singleton was genuinely looking forward to meeting Nathan Clay. Of course, he knew Peter and knew the complete story. Elliot, on the other hand, seemed less than thrilled. He looked at his watch, glanced at the door then looked at Peter.
"This source of yours," he began, "this Nathan Clay. What he's offering sounds a little too good to be true. You know what they say, "Beware Greeks bearing gifts." His eyes narrowed, "Do you really trust him?"
The man looked nothing like Mozzie but for some reason he reminded Peter of the man. Perhaps it was the quoting of quotes and his cynical attitude. Peter could understand the man's doubts. He didn't know Nathan Clay, what he had done or what he was capable of.
"Yes I do," Peter answered truthfully. "I'd trust him with my life."
"Well, before I can say the same, I'm going to need to know a little more about the man. Why is he doing this, Agent Burke? What's in it for him?"
It was a complicated question, and Peter didn't know how to respond. He hadn't seen the Terms of Service yet, either. Fortunately, he didn't have to. Nathan Clay had finally arrived.
"That is what we are here to determine." He seemed to have tamed his hair a bit for the occasion, but still looked like he had stepped out of the latest GQ Magazine. His smile was one of amusement. "I guarantee that you will find my terms very reasonable." Looking younger than his years, he didn't look capable of delivering what Peter had promised he could. Peter knew that Elliot was thinking the same thing as he sent a skeptical look in his direction.
"Agent Elliot, Agent Singleton," Peter began, "This is Nathan Clay."
"Nice to meet you both," he replied, extending his hand to each man and shaking them in turn. He had all the confidence of Neal Caffrey and more to boot. "Sorry I was late," he looked at Peter, "I've never actually driven in New York traffic before."