"What do you mean the body is no longer here?" Peter yelled at the Prison Warden. "No one is allowed to take it without a court order. So who the hell did you release it to and where did they go?" He could feel his voice rising, verging on hysteria. He clenched his fists in an attempt to stop his hands shaking. "I'm so sorry Agent Burke, there was a … a mix-up, a terrible mis … mistake'" the warden stumbled on, clearly upset himself. "Your agent, he's gone, but he wasn't taken to the city morgue…" "Where the hell is he then?" Peter screamed, oblivious to the fact he had also switched to using the pronoun he instead of referring to a body. "He was taken to NY-Presbyterian, to the ICU." The beleaguered warden replied.
The realization of what the warden was saying hit Peter with the same effect as an actual blow. He jumped back and whipped his head up, staring wide-eyed at the warden as he gasped, "He's alive?"
Peter turned and started to run back through the building, the warden at his heels explaining breathlessly what had happened during the aftermath of this morning's riot. As he stopped to get his weapon and sign out of the prison, Peter only registered part of what he was being told. His mind was already focused on working out the quickest way back into the city. Once in the car, it started to sink in. "Only Neal," he thought. "Only Neal could be hanged and yet survive."
Apparently, the noose was effective only in holding him in place, when Neal started struggling it had choked him into unconsciousness only to loosen its deadly grip as his body became limp. As the guards had moved in, they cut Neal down but no one thought to actually check if he was alive. He had seemed so obviously dead that they had left him there on the ground while they took the other prisoners to a holding area and moved the furniture out of the walkway and back into the cells.
When the infirmary staff came with a gurney and hoisted him onto it, Neal made no response, but in the elevator down to the infirmary he let out a low moan and frightened the living daylights out of the young doctor and his assistant. By the time the elevator doors opened on the floor below they came hurtling out and pandemonium ensued. The doctor was yelling at Neal to wake up, while his assistant yelled at the other staff around them, "Move aside!" "Get the breathing equipment!" "Call for an ambulance!" "Get the Warden, NOW!" Even once Neal had been taken off and the sound of the sirens had faded, everyone was still jittery and shocked over the severity of the mistake. The warden had only just got himself calmed enough to put the call through to Hughes when Peter had arrived on the scene, setting his nerves off again. He picked up the first of a large pile of papers on his desk that would record every detail of the final day of his career.
TBC
Your feed-back is appreciated, and will (per Mozzie) be taken under advisement!