"Anything?" Diana asked when Peter and the kid joined them in the conference room. He shook his head.
"No. Adler's men aren't talking." Peter had a pretty good idea that Adler had told them what would happen if they did. And Adler seemed resourceful enough to make his predictions come true. "It's safe to assume he knows we've escaped and that we're looking for him."
"Is he accelerating his escape plan?" Sara asked.
"No," Alex said, moving from her corner at the other end of the room. "I overheard him say he's shipping the art to Europe by boat, but he can't until the end of the week."
"Good. That gives us some breathing room." Peter watched Alex. She had agreed to join them to help, which was remarkable. "What do you remember about the warehouse?"
"Wooden beams, pre-war architecture, solid steel roll-up door facing west."
"That would be the loading bay."
"And there was clanging at night. Some kind of buoy, I think."
"Could be a weather buoy," Jones said.
"Diana, what do you have?" She was already working on her computer.
"There are four along the Brooklyn shoreline and three near battery park." She put the map up on the big screen.
"That's a lot of real estates," the kid sighed.
"Yeah," Peter agreed. "Let's get some building plans, see if we can narrow it down. Adler got that sub out of the water somehow. Pull satellite. Let's find this thing. Thank you, everybody." Everyone collected their stuff and moved out to get to work.
"All right, I'm gonna catch a ride to the waterfront," Neal said beside him. Eager as always, heading away without thinking.
"No, you're not," Peter said. What was the kid thinking? Taking on Adler all by himself if he found him? "We got good people on it. You're gonna finish up and then get out of here. I need you rested. That's an order."
"You gonna take your own advice?"
"Yes. I'm gonna go home, kiss my wife, and do at least one normal thing today."
"Live to fight another day, huh?"
Peter smiled. The kid seemed to listen to him. Good. But he hoped El could consider having Neal over for dinner tonight. The kid needed her care, too. And Peter wanted to keep Mozzie away from him until they had caught Adler. He did not like that the guy had just disappeared at the dry dock. Diana had told him that it was Mozzie who got them there with his antenna.
Neal had no idea how he was supposed to relax and get rested for tomorrow. Peter had told him to 'finish up,' but what was that supposed to mean? He joined Jones at his desk, checking the a map.
"Bunch of feds breathing down your neck. Probably not your idea of fun, huh?" Was that Sara's voice? He resisted an urge to turn.
"It beats being held hostage. Just barely." Alex? Did Sara and Alex talk?
"We haven't been officially introduced. I'm Sara Ellis." Sara. Of course. She was always straight to the point, not fleeing when she saw a conflict.
"Alex."
"Hi."
"You're not a fed?"
"No, no. I work with Sterling Bosch."
"Insurance. How'd you get wrapped up in all this?"
"Psst, psst!" Jones hissed and then coughed. "Across the room. Danger." Now Neal did turn his head and saw the two women laughing together. Laughing? Neal had known many women, but he had not seen this coming. "So, which one are you going for?" Jones asked. "I mean, I'll be your wingman."
"No, I'm good, Jones." If Sara did not run from a conflict, he could not do anything less, even though every bone in his body told him to flee.
"You sure?"
"If I'm not out in 10 minutes, send backup." He left Jones' desk and walked as casually as he could to the kitchenette. "Sara. Alex. What are you two talking about?"
Looks were exchanged, but the conversation was dead.
"I should let you two catch up," Sara said and left. She glanced back at them before she returned to the conference room.
"I think she's great," Alex said, smiling at him.
"It's not like that," Neal objected. "It's..."
"Yeah. Yeah, it is." Was it? Neal glanced at the carpet. He liked Sara, but… she…
"How long have you known about the sub?"
"Changing the subject." She placed her empty mug on the table.
"No. Maybe. I want to know."
"You know who my grandfather was?"
"Yeah, Wagner."
"I've known about the sub since I was a little girl. Grandpa, he'd take me to Coney Island when no one else was around, and he'd point out to the water and tell me that the greatest treasure in the world was right out there, just below the waves."
"The u-boat."
"Yes. He said the Nazis collected the most beautiful things in the world. They put those things in a submarine, and when it was crossing the Atlantic, it went down, and no one could find it."
"He received the final S.O.S. signal from the sub."
"Yeah. He encoded the S.O.S. antenna design into the music box. He figured he'd come to America, he'd build a receiver, and he'd find the sub. But he fled Germany after the war, and the box was lost."
He should have hidden his secret in a less attractive item, Neal thought.
"But he kept this." He held up the little golden putto, the key to the box. Alex chuckled and took the figure.
"Yeah. I always thought they were just wonderful stories. About treasure that was just out of reach. And then, on his deathbed, he told me, 'It's all true, Alex.' And then he proved it. He gave me the key to the music box. 'Find it,' he said."
"Your new destiny."
"Yeah."
He knew he could not trust Alex, and maybe she was pulling a fairytale, but the story made sense, too. It was a stupid way to get rid of the map, but if he had known the location of such a fantastic treasure, he would have made sure it was well hidden, too.
"You remind me of this treasure," Alex continued. "Some wonderful fantasy that's just out of reach." She chuckled at his baffled face and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, Neal." She looked at him, and he knew it was goodbye. But why? Because of Sara? But Sara and he… It would never… He watched Alex sneak out of the office and go down in the elevator.
He walked up to Peter's office.
"Hey."
"Hey," Peter returned. "Hell of a day."
"Another day, another Nazi sub."
Peter's phone rang. He looked at the display.
"Elizabeth." He took the call. "Hey, honey. Everything is fine." Nothing left but talking to Sara. He left the office hearing: "No, I'll tell you all about it" on his way out.
Neal met Sara at the door of the conference room.
"I just gave my statement, so I'm gonna go home."
"Listen, what happened with Alex was not—"
"Neal, stop it," she snapped. "All right? I'm a big girl, and we need to stop kidding ourselves. We are who we are. And—"
"Hey, there," Peter interrupted, sticking his head out of his office. "It's your lucky night. Elizabeth's making those little chickens you like."
"Cornish hens."
"I know what they're called. You're invited. That means you're coming." Peter's eyes shifted to Sara. "Both of you."
Neal blinked. Did Peter just demand him to come to dinner with Sara?
"Is that an order?"
"Yeah," his handler grinned. "Yeah, this will be fun." Peter pattered him on the shoulder. Unless Peter was totally blind, Peter would be the only one having fun.
Neal glanced at Sara. She stared perplexed back at him.
"He can't order me," she whispered.
"Car's leaving," Peter called from the door. "You want to walk there?"
Neal smiled at Sara.
"I hope you like chicken. I'll get my jacket."