Let's go Hunting: Chapter 4: Met Theft

Neal thought quickly, was there a way to get a gun to Peter? He looked at Agent Cooper. The young man was watching the would-be thieves as they walked warily up to the window. It would be easy to take the agent's gun but he resisted. Taking a gun now would only complicate things; even if he didn't intend to keep it. The last thing any of them needed was an agent getting nervous at the sight of him heading to the superior agent on the scene with a gun.

Neal edged closer to Cooper and caught his attention with a small wave. The agent looked at him nervously as if he were some talking owl.

"Peter is unarmed," he whispered urgently. Neal watched as the young agent's eyes widened with comprehension before turning and looking to where Peter was still hidden. Neal nodded towards Lake, "he's armed- the lead thief."

The agent bit his lip nervously and Neal cringed inwardly; he was dealing with a newbie. He moved away knowing now that it would be too much to expect Cooper to be able to do something.

Neal looked back to the thieves. Two of them were working the glass out of the wood and brick frame with the crowbar instead of simply smashing it like he'd expected. Neal pursed his lips- he'd underestimated them; they valued quiet which meant they were prepared to be methodical in their actions and less likely to be brash. He supposed that wasn't a bad thing. He wondered what the agents were waiting for then nearly face palmed. Of course; they would have to wait for the thieves to successfully steal The Lute Player before they could charge them with the felony theft. The third thief was standing at the corner of the building watching the street with no thought as to what lay in the immediate environment; rookie mistake.

Neal resigned himself to watching anxiously as the thieves worked their way through the frame before lifting out the large window pane.

The two thieves who had worked on the window each levered themselves up and over the sill into the gloom of a closed museum. After watching their successful entrance the third man ran back to the car and switched on the engine but stayed standing outside on the street watching the window his two cohorts had disappeared through. Neal frowned; wouldn't there have been alarm? It didn't matter how careful the thieves were; the Met's high security state-of-the-art motion sensor cameras would have detected the thieves by now.

Suddenly there was a high noise-drowning wailing coming from the European Art wing. Neal sighed with relief; he wasn't wrong.

He watched with amusement as the third thief jumped and ran around the car then changed his mind and went back to the driver's door.

He and Cooper watched with unease as the two thieves returned to the window. One jumped out stumbling –probably overwhelmed with adrenaline then rose and went back to the window. The thief still in the wing lowered a frame down to the waiting thief and then followed his predecessor out the window. Once the thief landed on the grass- with more grace- he turned and Neal saw it was Lake. Lake took back the painting them fumbled with something in his belt.

There was a shout and Peter, Payne and Jones all raced to the three thieves yelling over each other. Cooper moved forward before pausing. Neal felt the same way; he wanted to join them, he didn't know why. It wasn't his job. The three thieves stared in shock at the advancing agents. Despite the fact he had no gun Peter was advancing on them with the energy of a bull seeing red. Suddenly – just as Payne reached the thief by the car the three thieves –maybe psychically linked- turned and ran. Payne raced after the third man who had fled across the street. Jones who was the farthest away was closest to the second unidentified thief. Neal watched with worry as Peter automatically went after the only man left; Lake. Lake had wrenched the gun free by now and fired a few wild shots behind him as he rounded the corner away from where Neal stood anxiously in shock.

Peter dove behind the corner and stayed still lest Lake let off a few more aimless shots. He peered out cautiously with Neal silently praying Peter would choose not to risk chasing after an armed killer with little more than a badge. Peter must have known he was unarmed but he'd obviously chosen to ignore reason. Agonising shock gripped Neal as he watched Peter disappear around the corner after deciding the coast was clear- for now.

"Come on," Neal yelled to Cooper without waiting for a response. Cooper started running despite his boss's orders; what else could he do? Neal Caffrey was already running off after Agent Burke anyway. The two men were clear across the road within seconds. It looked to Neal like they'd catch up to Peter in no time, then Cooper could give Peter his gun and Peter would take down Lake. No problem.

Neal tripped.

Ignoring the pain in his foot Neal waved Cooper off, "Go; help Peter!"

Cooper hesitated but seemed to realise the sense in Neal's words. He was soon gone.

Neal cursed and tried to rise. His foot protested but Neal ignored the throbbing and planted it down firmly. He looked around for the offending object ignoring the stabbing pain in his foot. There; it was the crowbar that had been dropped by the thief who'd been assigned the look-out job. Neal scowled at the crowbar. He moved over to it thinking about whether they'd want it for finger prints. Just then Neal jumped as a gunshot reverberated through the air. Neal picked up the crowbar and stood calculating where the noise had come from. It seemed to come from over to the right of the Met building. Maybe Lake had run all the way around. Maybe he could cut him off?

Neal moved slowly, quietly in the opposite direction to where Cooper had run. It was eerily silent as Neal made his way past the front entrance of the Met keeping as close to the wall as possible looking every which way feeling oddly bare; he only had a crowbar; a crowbar he held awkwardly and off to the side. Soon after precious minutes had ticked away Neal was nearing the centre of the east wall; a part of the grounds that were thick with bushes and trees. Neal ignored the scent of the flowers that overwhelmed his nostrils. He thanked god again that he wasn't allergic like his friend Mozzie was. He was about to edge his way around a thick trunk when he heard voices. One was agitated- demanding and loud. The second voice was authoritative and low. Neal's ears prickled with recognition; Lake and Peter.

Neal peered slowly around the trunk of the tree and took in the scene beyond. Lake was half sprawled on the ground with a gun raised threateningly towards Peter who was kneeling; clearly breathless just a few meters away. Neal spotted a third figure; Cooper standing just behind Peter with his arms above his head. Neal looked back at Lake. He seemed injured. His leg was bleeding and his ankle was twisted awkwardly. Confused Neal looked again at Agent Burke. He was dishevelled, his hair looking rumpled and his suit was covered in dry dirt. Each time he spoke, dirt showered off his chest and understanding emblazoned in Neal's mind. He saw in his mind's eye what had happened. Peter had caught up with Lake and tackled him. They'd obviously wrestled and Peter had managed to injure Lake in the tousle before Lake had gained the upper hand; perhaps seizing his gun and holding it to Peter's face. Peter had backed off and that's when Cooper had caught up. Cooper had probably come across the scene in surprise and Lake would have taken advantage of that. Neal looked at the ground and saw two things that confirmed his suspicions. Cooper's gun was lying on the ground about a meter or so in front of Peter and the painting; The Lute Player was lying face down on the ground momentarily forgotten near the wall.

Lake was still trying to figure out how to successfully escape with the painting despite his injuries; Neal knew it wouldn't be long before he'd decide to shoot the Agents; there was nothing he could make them do that would help him get away. Neal felt his heart race knowing that he had to do something, but what?

He looked at the crowbar in his hand and back at Lake. Could he do it? Even if ultimately he ended up being nothing more than a distraction, it would be enough wouldn't it? Peter could grab Cooper's gun while he distracted Lake from behind. But could he- Neal Caffrey a proudly non-violent con man- do it? Neal thought about how the man; the killer in front of him had shot his friend without a backward glance all for the sake of money. There was no doubt in Neal's mind; Lake deserved to be hit with a crowbar from behind. He lifted the crowbar steeling himself to go around the trunk and swing with the intention of hitting another human being with all the force he could muster but then he paused.

All Peter needed was a distraction.

Peter kept as still as he could. He watched Lake nervously; the killer was looking between three points; him, Cooper and the painting. Peter could see the cogs turning in his mind. Peter knew he didn't have much time. Lake had nothing to gain by letting the agents live. He eyed the gun; Cooper's gun. Peter cursed the young agent again. What was he doing here? He should have been with Neal. He wondered where the con artist was. Probably half way to France again.

Peter looked at Cooper's gun again. Maybe the next time Lake looked at the painting he could grab it. It was only a metre away. Peter was sure he could do it. He glanced at the gun in Lake's hand. It was pointing more at Cooper now. Peter knew Cooper appeared to be more of a threat than he did. He was on the ground looking dishevelled while Cooper stood looking perfectly agile. Peter almost groaned in frustration. He couldn't take the risk; not while the gun pointed at the young probie.

"Look," Peter tried again, "You're injured. You're not going to be able to get far. My other agents have your friends. They have your getaway vehicle. Put down your weapon and we can talk. We can work out a deal."

Lake ignored him and squared his shoulders. Peter felt his heart rate sky rocket. He'd seen that look before. It was one of cold detachment; it was a look criminals had when they'd reached a decision that usually boded ill for law enforcement. Lake had made up his mind. Peter knew Lake had no intention of letting him and Cooper live to see another day. Come on! Peter looked around desperately, his fingers itching to grab the gun. All he needed was a distraction.

He got his wish.

Peter watched for one split second as something red flew from behind Lake out of nowhere and hit with a soft plop on the back of his head. Lake frowned in confusion. The foreign object hadn't even hurt but what was it? He forgot the two agents and turned. Peter lunged for the gun and in another adrenaline filled second raised it and was on his feet to within a metre of Lake shoving the gun in the killer's face yelling with all the force he contained. Lake dropped the gun and with Cooper's help Peter had the man face down and cuffed within a matter of seconds.

The two agents paused catching their breath before looking around simultaneously. Peter spotted it first. Cooper held Lake down both hands on his back while Peter walked over and stood staring at the foreign red object that had provided the distraction he'd needed.

Then Peter smiled; the relieved smile of an agent that knew a secret before it had been revealed.

"Neal?"

There was a rustling and Peter turned watching the shadows. He put out an assuring hand to Cooper who had tensed.

"It's not made of paper," Neal spoke, smiling and clearly relieved, as he emerged from the bushes, "but it did the trick don't you think?"

Peter smirked and bent down picking up the red object. It was a beautiful red rose, freshly plucked from the garden.