CHAPTER SEVEN
"All men's gains are the fruit of venturing."
April 13, 2011
New York City
11:00 AM
Diana was nearing the edge of her patience with the media. O.P.R. had formally made more accusations against Peter and Neal and she was fending off reporters left and right who wanted to speak with the F.B.I.. The Bureau was directing its calls to the White Collar Division. Most of the agents were thwarting the reporters off by using the same line: "I'm sorry, but I am un-allowed to talk about the case." Hughes had been periodically releasing statements into the media that clearly said that they were going to disprove all of O.P.R.'s accusations. Diana had never been prouder to serve under the Director.
On top of the ongoing investigation into Adler, there were other white collar crimes that needed solving. Everyone in the office was feeling the pressure; it was only a matter of time before someone lashed out at another team member. But everyone was doing their best to keep their cool. They all understood that they were in this boat together.
A clerk cautiously neared Diana's desk after witnessing the Special Agent slam down her desk phone.
"Agent Barrigan," said the clerk. "A package arrived for you."
Diana sighed heavily, not even looking up the clerk as she shuffled through papers. "Who's it from?"
"Dante Haversham."
Her head snapped up, and she snatched the little box from the clerk. "Thanks." The clerk just nodded at her odd behavior and carried on.
Before, with Peter and Neal behind, Diana had really disliked being around the little guy. He was high maintenance and too talkative for Diana's temper. But this random package from him; it had to mean something. She and Jones were positive that Mozzie had been looking into Adler. Perhaps he had found a clue.
But when she got the package opened, only to reveal a necklace, she was confused. It was exquisite and carefully packaged, with detailed caution that only Mozzie could provide. She slipped on gloves and picked it up. Immediately, the amber drew her attention. This was definitely case related. She looked inside the box, but there was no note. The only conclusion she could positively make was that this was a piece of the Amber Room, something Adler hadn't been able to retrieve. She wondered if he even knew he was missing it.
She placed it in the box and looked around for Jones. He was at his desk with his back to her. She got up with the necklace and went over to him. She was surprised to see that he was opening up something of his own.
"Did you get something from the little guy, too," asked Diana.
He spun around, clearly startled by her sudden presence. "Yeah," he breathed. He spotted the necklace. "He sent you that?"
"Yeah," said Diana. "It's an amber necklace."
"Maybe he likes you after all," joked Jones. Diana slapped him on the arm. He retreated back into his chair. "Okay, okay. I'll bet you whatever he sent me has to do with that." He tore open his envelope and revealed a piece of paper. There was an address scribbled on it.
"1024 Jansen Lane. Sheffield, Pennsylvania," said Diana. "What the hell is out there?"
"I'll pull up the address," said Jones.
Diana went back to her desk and placed the box with the necklace down. She spun around when she heard something smash in the conference room. The young clerk who had brought her the package had dropped a heavy box of files on the ground. But she was staring at the television.
Diana went upstairs. "Kayla, are you—"
But Diana froze when she saw the television. It was footage of two men leaving a hospital: one on crutches and the other with a bandaged arm. There was no denying who it was: Peter and Neal. She collapsed in a chair and just watched the report about two men who had saved a bank employee's life by breaking into the vault. Beside her, Kayla was paralyzed in disbelief.
"Diana!" Jones jumped up. "Diana, it's Adler! Adler lives at that address!" He was running up the stairs, already dialing numbers on his phone. "The house is registered to a Aigle Victorieux, and in French that means—what's wrong?"
"Nothing," Kayla finally managed. She practically shouted it. "Agent Burke and Neal are alive!"
Jones turned to the television, but the pictures had been removed. "What?"
Diana jumped up and grabbed Jones' arm. "Clinton, they're alive! They sent us the address and necklace!"
Jones was shaking his head. "You've lost it."
"No! Look!" Kayla was looking back at the television. By now, most of the office's attention was drawn to the conference room. Hughes barged in.
"What in God's name is going on in here?"
The video was replayed and Hughes and Jones gaped in shock.
"Sir," said Diana. She took the paper from Jones. "We need to get every available agent and SWAT member to this address ASAP. We know where Adler is."
"They did this," asked Hughes, gesturing to the television.
"They must have," Diana said, barely catching her breath. "They must've faked their deaths to trick Adler into believing he was safe. And then they went looking for him. Sir! If we've seen this and we know they're alive, then Adler will too! We have to get there now!"
Hughes shook the shock off of him and grabbed the address. "Pennsylvania? Okay, I'll call the Bureau office closest to that location. Let's get this bastard!"
()()()()()()
April 13, 2011
Outside Sheffield, Pennsylvania
11:30 AM
Vincent Adler sat on the veranda of his gorgeous house on his broad estate in rural Pennsylvania. He was looking out over rolling hills and a barn in the distant. In the foreground, horses grazed in the nourishing green fields. He sighed in content. This was truly a great life. He had an amazing house with priceless treasures making up the rooms like an old museum. He was tucked away in a quiet world where he could enjoy his years.
As he rolled the ice in his glass, one of his men ran out of the house. Adler sighed with annoyance. What were they bitching about now?
"Sir," said the young man. "You have to come see this."
"What is it," asked Adler in an impatient tone.
"It's Burke and Caffrey," the younger man said.
"What about them," asked Adler. "Did our contacts at O.P.R. actually make a case? That's more than I would've hoped for but I'll take it."
"No, sir," replied the assistant. "It's them—they're alive!"
Adler turned to fully look at his aide. "Excuse me?"
"It's true," breathed the man. "They must've survived the explosion somehow, but they're alive. They were in Munich when—".
"Munich," echoed Adler, appearing alarmed for the first time.
"Yes, sir, Munich."
"I want them found immediately," snapped Adler, standing up. "And when they're found, I want a bullet put right between their eyes. I want someone to watch them draw their last breaths. And then I want their bodies burned to ashes."
"Yes, sir," said the aide. "I'll contact your men in Europe." The aide quickly went back inside.
Adler threw his glass on the ground, his calm life suddenly thrown out of sorts. How could they possibly be alive? And how much did they already know? Adler knew one thing, though. It was time to move. He couldn't risk them finding a connection to this home. He knew that as soon as they found out, they would contact the FBI. He hollered for his aide to start packing their stuff. They'd have to get moving quickly.
He looked towards the house. There had been no reply from his aide. But when he went inside, he was met by the barrel of a rifle. He looked down it, into the eyes of a SWAT member. Adler's eyes shot around; the room was full of them. His aide was pinned to the ground. The front door opened and Adler knew he wouldn't be getting away this time.
Director Reese Hughes, and Agents Diana Barrigan and Clinton Jones walked in, just barely keeping the smug grins off their faces.
Diana grabbed Adler's arms and none too gently, yanked them back and cuffed his wrists tightly.
"Vincent Adler, you're under arrest for the attempted murders of Special Agent Peter Burke and his consultant Neal Caffrey."
For once, Adler had nothing to say. He was at a loss. He had been trumped.
()()()()()()
April 13, 2011
Burke Premiere Events
11:45 AM
As Yvonne put up new designs of decorations that had just been shipped to the store, she watched as her boss, the one and only Elizabeth Burke, happily talked to a young, engaged couple. She could really go on and on with ideas for anything related to their wedding and reception. Yvonne marveled at how well Elizabeth could read people and to know what they would like. But lately, Yvonne had been keeping an extra eye on her friend. She knew Elizabeth had to be feeling the effects of not only losing her husband, but having the media slander his name and reputation as they reported about his supposed rogue actions. Yvonne suspected that work was the only thing Elizabeth was living for these days. She worked almost 24/7; Yvonne thought about all the times she had heard Elizabeth talk about Peter and his nearly 24/7 work habits.
Yvonne mentally groaned when she heard the back door open. She was hoping that the next shipment wouldn't arrive until after lunch. She was quite hungry. But when she turned around, with the best smile she could muster up plastered on her face; Yvonne ended up giving a little screech and dropping a box on the floor.
Peter Burke stood in front of her. Despite the fact that he had a baseball cap on and some shades, she knew it was him. He pulled the shades off and she inhaled quickly in further shock.
"Yvonne," he said questioningly. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"Peter, she probably thinks you're a ghost," said someone else. Neal Caffrey stepped out from behind Peter, also pulling off a pair of shades.
Yvonne felt her body sway and instantly Neal was there to steady her. He helped her sit down on one of the crates.
"Is Elizabeth here," asked Peter.
Yvonne just stared up at them. "You…you guys are dead. You died."
"Long story short," began Neal. "We faked it. Now, is Elizabeth here? Peter had been dying to see her—no pun intended."
Yvonne just nodded. "She's up front with some customers."
But they could already here Elizabeth coming towards them. "Yvonne, sweetie, are you alright?"
Peter and Neal's head shot up. Neal stood beside Yvonne as Peter took a step towards her voice. When Elizabeth came into view, it was like time had stopped.
"Hey hon," Peter managed out kind of hoarsely.
Elizabeth threw her hands over her mouth as she gasped. "Oh my gosh—when do you get back?"
"Get back," squeaked Yvonne. "Elizabeth—did you know they were alive?"
She received no answer because Peter and Elizabeth quickly went to each other. Despite any injuries Peter had hidden under his clothes, he held Elizabeth tightly to him as they passionately kissed. Elizabeth no longer hid her tears as she wrapped her arms around his chest.
"I'm so glad you're back," she whispered. "I mean, you are staying, right?"
"Yeah," said Peter, brushing away the tears from her face. "It's over. They've got Adler."
"You found him," asked Elizabeth.
"Yeah," replied Peter. "We found him and then we relayed the info to the Bureau. They just got him. We've been listening in on the radios with Mozzie's help."
"Mozzie knew you were back," asked Elizabeth. "How long?"
"We got back in last night," said Peter. "I wanted to come home, but we couldn't risk it. We had to make sure that Adler was taken care of. I mean, our cover was blown when our faces got on the news."
"I never even saw that," said Elizabeth.
"It just got stateside about an hour ago," said Peter. "But we're pretty sure that Jones and Diana figured it out. They'll probably be down here as soon as they've processed Adler."
Elizabeth just shook her head and went in for another kiss. "I'm just glad you're okay."
Neal cleared his throat. "You guys should get a room."
Peter rolled his eyes and Elizabeth broke free from her husband and went to Neal, hugging him fiercely. She noticed his bandaged forearm.
"What happened to you," she asked.
"Don't worry about it," said Neal.
"Neal…" said Elizabeth in a warning tone.
"Well, against all odds, did you hear about a bank blowing up in Munich," asked Neal, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Elizabeth just gaped at him. Neal looked up at Peter. "I guess she did."
"Hon," said Peter, coming over and laying his hands on her shoulders gently. "It's okay. We're just fine. It's just a few scrapes and burns."
"You're limping," Elizabeth finally said. "You were in the bank, too?" She closed her eyes and shuddered. "Never mind, you're here now." She hugged Peter again.
"So," said Yvonne slowly. "If you're alive, what now?"
Peter and Neal looked at each other and smiled. "We come back to the living."
A few minutes later, after Elizabeth kindly wrapped up her meeting with her customers and closed up the shop for lunch, Peter and Neal met her out back where Mozzie was waiting for them. Yvonne was given the chance to go with them, but she declined, saying that she really needed a peaceful lunch now. After being sworn to secrecy that she ever saw them, she hurried off. Elizabeth latched onto Peter's arm as she handed Mozzie back the phone he had given her to contact him.
"We won't be needing this anymore," she said happily.
Mozzie tossed it in the nearest trashcan and gestured to a maintenance truck he had apparently commandeered. "I'll be your chauffeur today. Where are we headed?"
"I think you know where we're headed," said Peter.
Mozzie looked at Neal incredulously. "Does he really think I'm going near that building again?"
"Now that you've proven you will," said Peter. "It's too late to reject that you will."
Mozzie's eyes narrowed, but a small smile crept over his lips. "Fine, get in. Let's get this whole coming back to life business over with."
"About time," said Neal.
()()()()()()
F.B.I.
New York City Branch
12:12 PM
Diana practically pushed Adler down into the seat of the interrogation room, leaving his hands cuffed uncomfortably behind him. She then quickly left the room, slamming the door behind her. Jones just smiled at her with admiration of her forcefulness. He turned to two other agents. "Guard this room and don't let anyone in or out. Only, myself, Agent Barrigan, and Director Hughes are allowed in. Anyone else who wants to enter has to be one of the three of us. And I don't care how highly ranked they are. If they're not with one of us, they don't come in here. Understood?" The younger agents nodded sternly. Diana looked at them, and they nodded again. Then, she and Jones left.
A helicopter had got them to Pennsylvania and back in record time. And as much as they were ready to grill Adler for every crime he had ever been accused of, they were more anxious to find out where Peter and Neal were. Hughes had gone to call Elizabeth. He now strolled up the hallway to them, shaking his head.
"You're not going to believe this," he said. "They're outside the Bureau building right now, waiting for us."
Jones could only laugh, he was so shell-shocked. "This is unreal. I can't wait to hear how they pulled this off."
"I won't believe it till I see them with my own eyes," said Diana. "Are they coming up?"
"They don't want to without us," said Hughes. He almost smiled. "I only talked with Elizabeth. But she said they're just outside in front of the building."
"No one noticed them," asked Jones.
Hughes just shrugged. "I don't even know where to begin with this. Let's just go down and meet them. Then, we'll figure out our next step. They probably already have a plan anyway."
They impatiently rode down in the elevator. The whole building was abuzz with the capture of Adler and the news reports with Peter and Neal's face all over them. Most people didn't know what to make of it. Some were on the right track that Peter and Neal had something to do with Adler's capture. Others thought that it might be some kind of O.P.R. trick. But in the end, everyone was just as shocked that Peter and Neal were apparently alive. But by now, that shock was being felt in the media as they put two and two together. The heroes in Munich were the same as the dead F.B.I. Agent and his consultant. People were looking for answers, but no one seemed to notice the two men in baseball caps outside the Bureau building.
Diana spotted them first. They had their backs to the office with baseball caps on, but there was no denying the two silhouettes. Peter's broad shoulders against Neal's lither, yet still well-built, frame. And there was no denying that the women hanging onto Peter was Elizabeth and the little guy standing beside Neal was Mozzie. They were seated on the steps that ran up against the sidewalk. To a random bystander, they might've looked like just normal folks sitting down to enjoy the city sghts and sounds. But to those who knew them, there was nothing normal about them.
Even though Hughes wanted to, he refrained from running over like Diana and Jones did. The two younger agents stopped just short of running into the four. Peter and Neal spun around and hugged their teammates. There was much laughter and hardly any talking as they all took in the moment. Hughes walked up, having surveyed his two missing team members. He saw the odd gait in Peter's walk and the bandage almost hidden beneath Neal's jacket sleeve. Maybe they weren't as okay as they had let people think.
"Peter," he said, extending his hand to the man.
Peter shook it with two hands and a warm smile. "Hey Reese. Sorry for the impromptu excursion. There was some business we had to take care of."
"I figured that," said Hughes. He turned to Neal who also shook his hand. "I hope you didn't completely corrupt my best agent. I'd like to have both of you back."
Neal smiled at the concealed compliment. "Well, sir, we may have done a few things."
"We'll have that hypothetical conversation later," replied Hughes. He looked them all over, his gaze landing on Mozzie in the end. "I've figured out that Elizabeth knew about this; I'm assuming that you did as well?"
"I may have," said Mozzie. "I may have gotten messages from unidentified sources who may have suggested for me to keep quiet and perhaps finally pass on some information to the Bureau."
"Thanks," said Hughes carefully. "I appreciate what you've done."
"Don't think I'm going to make a habit of it," said Mozzie.
"Listen," said Jones. "Before we go inside, how much do you guys know about what O.P.R. is doing?"
"O.P.R.," asked Neal. "We haven't heard anything."
"What's going on," asked Peter.
Everyone else just looked at each other; this would be a problem.
Diana shook her head. "O.P.R. is going to have a field day! Who knows what they're thinking about all of this."
"Will someone explain what's going on," demanded Peter, beginning to get worried.
Hughes held up his hands, and this time, he smiled the most devious smile anyone underneath him had ever seen. "I think I have an idea about how to solve this."