Chapter 7

"You mean to tell me you had Caffrey. He was right there and you let him go?" Hughes asked as he paced the floor in Peter's office.

"He didn't know me, Reese. And I know what you are going to say here." Peter replied, shaking his head. "But he wasn't snowing me. He had absolutely no idea who I was."

"Then he belongs in jail. If he's not working for the FBI, per his agreement, he needs to be in jail." Reese replied.

"Extenuating circumstances, Reese, this is the dictionary definition." Peter replied. "Jay Sterling is who he is now. He has no idea who Neal Caffrey even is. Jay can't be sent to jail for Neal's crimes."

Reese sighed. "There is no precedent here, Burke." He continued to pace. "There are not rules on what to do if you C.I. develops amnesia and goes off to lead a regular, normal life under an assumed name. There's nothing."

Peter nodded. He understood completely.

"The Marshals are not going to understand this. They are going to think we are trying to pull a fast one on them." Hughes stopped and looked at Peter. "Do you see how very bad this could get, very quickly?"

"Reese…" Peter started.

Reese shook his head. "I don't care if he thinks he's the Pope…get him back in here and back on his leash."

"He'll run. He already has to be wondering who shot him and why. He's gonna run from whoever he thinks is trying to kill him." Peter explained. "I can't approach him like that. I need time to…."

"You have a week, Burke, that's it!" Hughes said with finality. He then left Peter's office.

Peter sighed and shook his head.

WC WC WC WC WC

Neal started to take his jacket off. He felt around to make sure his pockets were empty before he did so. He then felt the card in his pocket That FBI guy had given him a card. He pulled it out and looked at it. He hadn't even bothered when the guy gave it to him. Neal had been rattled when he saw the FBI agent. But the name the agent had mentioned meant nothing to him. He had just pocketed the card and had made as quick an exit as possible, grateful 'Jay Sterling' was not on the FBI radar. Now he examined the card closely, reading the Agent's name and division. It still meant nothing to him. He then turned the card over. It had When you remember, Call Me! written on the back.

Neal sat down on the bed and just stared at the message. Was there something specific he was supposed to remember? And what did it have to do with the FBI, with this agent? Neal shook his head. At least he wasn't in trouble with the FBI, with any law enforcement for that matter. He knew that much. That agent would have just arrested him on the spot if he had been. So that was another thing he could check off his list. And that was good. But what did this agent know about him? What did the agent think he knew about him? Neal needed to find out. He had been ready to throw the card away without even looking at it. He was really glad he hadn't after giving the agent's visit some thought.

Neal put the card back in his jacket pocket. He hung the jacket up, changed out of his work clothes and into his street clothes. He made his way to the burger joint down the street. He was starving.

TBC