Never have I tried to post a chapter via my phone. It is quite challenging since my phone is tiny and I can only type one letter at a time. Hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

As always, thanks to all who are following this story and reviewing. I so appreciate you!

Chapter Seven

"The shipment is 36 kilos," Neal informed Agent Elliott. "Just a little under eighty pounds total. Street value is about 16.5 million dollars," He smiled. "Or so I was told. It isn't my area of expertise."

"I'd love to know what your area of expertise includes," Agent Elliott remarked, "but that is for another day. Please continued." Even though his title was Agent in Charge, James Elliott knew that he was not the one in charge at this meeting. Even the location itself, a restoration room in the back of a Midtown Gallery, had been set by Nathan Clay.

Everyone had arrived by a back entrance; Nathan Clay had waltzed in the front door precisely a half hour later with a manuscript tube in hand. Anyone following his movements would see a gallery owner conducting business in the city. The subterfuge became necessary when Neal detected that he was being followed after his meeting with the Cordero contact the evening before. It hadn't seemed to rattle him in the least; he'd told Peter he had expected as much. He had provided a description of the men and their vehicle. He had even provided the license plate number. How he managed to get the license number of an SUV following him was anyone's guess.

Peter observed Neal during the meeting. Nathan Clay was different from Neal Caffrey in more ways than his wardrobe, hair style, and name. Still brilliant, deceptive and ultimately charming, there was a calmness in Nathan Clay that had been absent in Neal Caffrey. Peter had seen it the day before when Neal had remained unaffected by his angry outburst and he was witnessing it again today as Neal shared the details of the upcoming enterprise with him, Agent Singleton and Agent Elliot.

Neal Caffrey had never been able to sit still. His fidgeting had usually grown more pronounced as the time for an operation drew near. It used to drive Peter crazy; he'd be going over the final details and Neal would be incessantly tapping the table with his pen; it was as if his nervous energy couldn't be contained. But Nathan Clay's posture in the chair opposite of Elliott was relaxed; there was no fidgeting at all. In spite of his artsy, devil-may-care appearance, his demeanor was reserved and confident. The only thing that seemed the same was the look of excitement in his eyes.

"It's part of a pre-set arrangement," Nathan Clay explained, "divided into six packages: three holding eight kilos each and three with four. The three larger packages have destinations outside the city; I handle the one that goes to Philadelphia. The other three packages, I assume, are staying locally." He continued, "My people have put the tracking devices into each package. "

A part of the agreement, no questions were asked about his people or how they were able to bring such a shipment into New York. Everyone assumed it would be by boat, but it could have been by hot air balloon for all the information they were given on that aspect of the operation. In fact, they didn't even know when it was due to arrive.

"This is a list of the specific frequencies," he handed a sheet of paper to Peter, "The trackers have a limited power source so I can't activate them until just before the meeting; and they only have a two hundred yard range. After that, the signal will get spotty. You'll have to stay pretty close once the shipments start rolling." Neal looked at Agent Elliott. "Security is important if you want to follow these shipments through to their distribution points," He warned. "If anyone is tipped that this shipment is somehow tainted, things are going to go bad fast."

Go bad fast for him. Peter knew that was what he meant even though he didn't specify it. The danger a leak of information would cause had been on the top of Peter's list of concerns. The three of them had agreed that the operation be kept as a need to know, but with something of this scale, that still included a lot of people. The most crucial aspects had been limited to the three of them and their most trusted associates. Others, including agents, operatives, and under covers, only knew that a large shipment was arriving, and there was going to be a coordinated effort to track it downstream. They had not been made aware of the source of that information or that the shipment had been equipped with tracking devices.

"Security is airtight, Mr. Clay," Agent Singleton assured him. "Very few know that the shipment is tagged. Just us," he nodded to the other two men, "and we only read in those that had to know and that we trust explicitly."

"We'll need access to get the equipment in place before the meeting," Peter added. "We will document everyone that comes and goes with video and time stamp photographs."

"We will have secondary teams set up in different locations throughout the city," Agent Elliott informed, pointing at the map he had lain out on the large work surface. "The first team will relay locations as they go, and as they pass a team, a new tail can pick it up. Offices in Philadelphia, Hartford, and Boston will have teams on standby." He looked at Neal quizzically. "We should be able to track the transport vehicles with no one being the wiser. We just need to know when and where we start, Mr. Clay."

"Northwest Warehouse #52. Hicksville, Long Island. The meeting will be in two days, four in the afternoon," he paused, "I haven't given them the location; I will text them the address an hour before."

"What about Philadelphia," Elliot asked, "What's the location there?"

"Things are a little dicey down there," He sent a reluctant glance in Peter's direction. "Just like me, they won't disclose the location this far ahead."

"Dicey?" Elliott repeated, eyebrows raised. Already concerned about Neal's trip to Philadelphia, his tone did nothing to reassure Peter. "That is putting it lightly." He paused, looking up to meet Neal's eyes. "You sure you want to do that part? Take the shipment down there?"

"Of course I'm sure," Neal seemed almost indignant at the question. "It wasn't an optional part of the agreement; in fact it was a non-negotiable term." He tried to lighten the mood with a smile. "I think they are having some employee problems down there."

"Again, an understatement, Mr. Clay. Are you aware of what has happened to the last two shipments Cordero tried to send into Philadelphia?"

"It might have been mentioned," He admitted. "I think that is why I have the goon squad outside. To make sure this one gets through. Any idea who they are yet?"

"The names we got aren't coming up on any databases; we are pretty sure they're aliases. We have someone running facial recognition on the photos we got from the car rental company," Elliot supplied. Realizing that Nathan was shifting the topic, he returned to it. "No matter what the agreement was, Mr. Clay, you don't have to follow through with it; if you fear reprisal for backing out, we can protect you."

That Elliott would present Neal with the option of backing out told Peter the situation in Philadelphia was worse than he suspected.

"I appreciate the sentiment," Neal seemed sincere, "but I will see it through to the end." Peter didn't like his choice of words. "The man last night," He continued pulling out a telephone. "He gave me this. This is how we exchange meeting location information. I text them mine, and after I get into Philadelphia, they will text me theirs."

"Last chance, Mr. Clay," Elliott said, "Are you sure you want to take this risk? The situation down there is very fluid; anything can happen."

"Absolutely," Neal smiled, leaning back as if he hadn't a care in the world. "That's what keeps it interesting."

Peter rolled his eyes and Elliott shook his head. "Okay, then." Elliot placed a briefcase on top of the unfolded map of the city and opened it. This," he pulled out a small handheld device, "will clone that phone so we can see all communications you send and receive."

Neal handed the phone over, and Elliott quickly completed the sync. He then handed the phone back to Neal and with a glance at the two FBI agents, began to remove additional items from the case.

"We have some equipment for you, Mr. Clay, and we have taken your," he paused, surveying Neal's outfit quickly "unique style into consideration." Peter had to admit; the watch Elliott handed Neal was significantly more stylish than the one he had provided so many times before. "We need to keep track of your movements since additional meetings are unwise."

"A Baume & Mercier," Neal sent a knowing smirk in Peter's direction as he inspected it. "And not even a knockoff. You know," he said as he strapped it on "That before the start of the Le Mans 24 hours in 1979, one of the Riviera models was strapped to the wheel of a BMW M1? When it was removed at the end of the race, it was still in perfect working order."

Elliot looked at Neal a moment before shaking his head slightly and continuing. "It's equipped with a GPS chip as well as a transmitter; you can also take a digital photo by clicking this," he demonstrated. "It will download immediately to our server. Anything you can get from the Philadelphia meeting will be helpful since we won't have access to that location beforehand," He paused, "And anyone you think we need to see before that, just send us a file."

"Will do," Neal said, again admiring his new watch. "I'd say I'll see you guys tomorrow, but I sincerely hope I don't," He looked up with a smile, "But you'll see me tomorrow. Four pm. Hicksville."

"Once you get there," Elliot continued, "we'll be close. If you see there is a problem, say, "I think we have a misunderstanding", and we will move in. But between now and then," he warned, "we need to keep our distance. We can't have Cordero's tail on you spotting us. We'll monitor, but it will be through a relay system."

"That means that if something goes wrong, we won't be able to get there quickly," Agent Singleton added. "You'll have to duck and cover the best you can until we arrive."

"Nothing will go wrong," he smiled in Peter's direction "and if it does, I excel at ducking and covering."