(Chapter 5)

Neal continued to be trapped in darkness, his mind active but body remaining still as he slept off and on, dreaming of what he had heard and of things current and past. He had saved Elizabeth, kept her from being hurt and yet Peter sounded less than happy about his actions. They had been friends for so long but there was some kind of hidden animosity showing now. Peter had never been happy with his actions but had dealt with it accordingly, both men having the other's back but now... now there was something coming up to the surface he had only suspected in the past but had long pushed aside as they were more friendly and trusting of the other. He didn't want to think Mozzie was right but even his friend thought Peter was ok so he wasn't sure what to make of this new Peter.

Neal... I can't stay long. Someone's following me and uhm... I think they want that box. I'm going to let the Suit handle it. I already told him where it was but not the exact location.

Mozzie was rambling, nervousness hitting him it seemed from whatever he was talking about. Neal felt badly for his friend, a need to protect him making him want to wake up and answer but his body wouldn't move or react so he could only listen while his mind was active.

Neal? You need to wake up soon. I'll... be in touch when I can.

His friend sounded scared, something different from his usual paranoia. Neal fought to wake up, to answer but nothing seemed to respond and he felt frustration at his inability to get up, seeing a vision of his friend as he imagined Mozzie might look. It wasn't the real thing and as he fumed in the darkness, footsteps quietly left, the sound of a door opening and closing, then silence. He heard the soft beep of the monitors connected to him and maybe the slight rattle of the air vents. Other than that it was quiet and he could only listen, his body relaxing back to sleep as consciousness faded away.

You can be a con or a man. You can't be both.

Peter's voice talked to him in the silence that was sleep and yet, something about those words made him flinch. Had it all been a lie? Peter had saved him and helped him change but for what reason? How did the man he know match to the one he had heard. Maybe he was hallucinating. He'd hit his head pretty hard, the pain a dull throb in the background when he was semi-conscious. It was that injury that had probably kept him here in the gloom, trapped in his own dream world. Once he woke up he would find this was all just a terrible nightmare he'd thought up.

He seems to think you can get him out of his contract. I may have underestimated your loyalty but can you trust him? He's using you as much as I used him to manipulate you.

The voice wasn't one he was familiar with and yet it had a certain tone to it that made him think of Peter. The man seemed to know him but who was he talking about? There was no sense to the words as he tried to keep alert enough to hear further.

You have both grown attached to things I never expected and now this must end. Don't think your little friend has gone unnoticed. I'll make sure to find out what he knows about the box before Peter does. No loose ends...

The beeping stopped as he heard an audible click and felt someone shifting him slightly, the pillow removed from under his head. He felt himself swallow ever so slightly, Neal wondering if this man had noticed or not. He thought he heard a faint sigh, the man speaking with a surprised yet sardonic tone.

Coming to? Not if I can help it. Your con friend will have to provide me with what you would have if you lived. I have something he wants and if he doesn't cooperate... all bets are off.

Suddenly he felt something pressed against his face, lightly at first then more forcibly until he was certain he was shifting, struggling for breath, hands trying to move and fight but still too weak to do so. He was waking up now but too late to help himself. The man laughed, pushing down the item over his face more tightly.

I normally have others do this for me but today I thought I'd get my own hands dirty. I need to make sure you're really gone after that last mistake. Goodbye Mr. Caffrey.

Neal struggled weakly, body responding sluggishly until he felt something in his hand, heavy yet small enough to fit into his grip. He pulled at it and swung it up at the man blindly. He could see grayness, his eyes unfocused on the white mass over his face but he knew it was a pillow and someone was trying to suffocate him. He swung the item over and over until the pillow was let go and the man cried out in pain, cursing.

"Damn you... don't think this is over!"

The voice hissed, louder and more distinct. Neal breathed hard but quietly, the pillow still over his face but no longer being held down. He heard his attacker leave but it didn't sound like he'd come through the front door, an added click making him curious as he weakly pulled the pillow from his face and saw the adjoining room door closing. Neal wanted to call out to whatever agent was on the other side of the main door but he was still wheezing softly, catching his breath as his vision focused on his surroundings. He was in a hospital room, he knew that much but he was alone and...

"Let me check on him..."

The door was already partially open, a familiar voice obvious as Neal continued to try to catch his breath. The con was still reeling from almost being suffocated and the fact he had been unconscious for a period of time he wasn't sure of. It had to have been a day if not two. His sense of time was off as he thought back, a slight wheeze escaping his lips.

"Caffrey... hey, buddy. You ok?"

Agent Jones was looking at him, surprise and relief written on the man's face as he neared the bed and seemed to notice Neal's uncertainty. The agent's eyes were looking him over curiously and then at his hand where he held something. Neal's eyes moved to see what Jones was looking at and saw he still held the item he'd used to hit the man who'd tried to kill him. It was the nurse call button, his finger firmly on the device as if it were life itself he held onto it. Jones moved closer, removing it gently from his fingers and helping him with the pillow. Neal didn't know what to do, still unable to speak as he continued to wheeze and tried to catch his breath.

"Relax, Neal. You've been asleep for a while. I'm sure you're feeling disoriented..."

Jones understood but wasn't aware someone had tried to kill him. Neal pointed at the door as the agent helped him get comfy again, pushing the pillow back under his head.

"I'm sure a nurse or doctor will be here soon, Neal. Is there something you needed?"

Clinton was being his friend and that's how he knew he could trust him, pointing at the door again that adjoined to the next room. Jones turned and glanced at the direction but was distracted when the main door to the room opened up and a man with graying brown hair, hazel eyes walked in with green scrubs covered by a white doctor's coat. He was glancing at Jones curiously then noticed Neal, their eyes meeting for a moment as he walked closer.

"I see our patient has finally woken up. I'm Dr. Tarkins. How are you feeling, Mr. Caffrey?"

The doctor didn't look concerned, a calm expression on his face as he moved close enough to hold his wrist to take his pulse. When Neal didn't answer, the doctor warned him before shining a light in his eyes, a small penlight that made him wince slightly but the doctor seemed content.

"Your eyes aren't dilated anymore. There was no swelling when you were brought in but you had a class 1 concussion. I'm beginning to think it was the blood loss that kept you unconscious. You lost quite a bit of fluid, Mr. Caffrey. You're a very lucky man."

Neal nodded at the doctors words, a slight wheeze there as a stethoscope was pressed gently to his chest beneath the open hospital gown. It felt cool but not cold, the doctor listening and asking him to breath in and out until he nodded as if answering some silent query.

"The bullet nicked your lung but you should be doing better. Your lungs sound healthier but let me have some tests done to check out that wheeze. Does your chest hurt?"

The doctor was trying to help, gently patting his shoulder opposite the wound as Neal shook his head. His chest really didn't hurt but there was a slight pressure from when his mystery assassin had tried to suffocate him as well as from his wound. He was still catching his breath but unable to talk as he motioned for a pen and paper, the doctor handing him a small prescription pad and pen. Neal did his best to write, still feeling weak from everything as he glanced up at Jones and pointed at the paper. The agent and doctor both viewed the note, their eyes widening especially when Clinton moved closer to read.

"Neal... did you get a good look at his face? Was he one of Cyrus' men?"

Jones was worried now, looking at the doctor who seemed uncertain how to proceed but letting the agent do his job.

"I'll contact security and see if they have footage. Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you, Agent... I'll wait on the tests if you need to keep him secure."

Jones was already on his phone, the doctor turning the monitors that had been turned off back on as he noticed the equipment was offline. He looked like he wasn't sure what to think about this but was remaining as relaxed about it as he could. Neal could rest now but he didn't want to knowing someone out there was trying to kill him. With Jones checking in with the Bureau and maybe Peter, the doctor left after another quick exam with a promise to return for further tests. The man was worried about him and not just clinically, something that made the con think about what he had thought he heard Peter saying while he was unconscious.

"Caffrey... did you get a look at the man who tried to suffocate you?"

Jones was off the phone now and in full agent mode as he tried to get to the bottom of what the note had said. Neal shook his head as he lay back on the pillows tiredly. He had only been up a few minutes but he was already feeling like he could pass back into that darkness from before but he was fighting it to figure out what was going on. Who had tried to kill him? They knew about Mozzie and they seemed to be talking about Peter from what he gathered or maybe he was still addled from the experience, Neal wasn't sure. After a moment he pointed at the nurse call, Jones giving it a look over with a tissue as he handled it and noticed a hint of what looked to be blood.

"Its fine. We might be able to get prints off the pillow case if not the door. Were they wearing gloves?"

Jones was drawing at straws, anything to get at the man who'd hurt him but Neal couldn't remember anything, shaking his head again and shrugging helplessly with a frustrated huff of air. He wasn't able to catch his breath enough to talk yet, closing his eyes a moment to calm himself and get his breathing more normal. He knew the man's voice, they sounded like Peter in a way only older. He'd never met Peter's family but it's possible it was someone close to his friend but he couldn't say for certain. Kramer wouldn't come back after him, would he? Neal was pretty sure this hadn't been Kramer but he had been out of it.

"No problem. We'll figure this out. Surveillance on the room outside in the hallway should give us something. I'll go check on footage while Agent Blake watches you. Did you need anything?"

Dr. Tarkins had left him the pad without taking it back and a pen. Neal wrote a note, saying he was ok but asking about El and Peter.

"They're both fine but Peter's distracted by everything right now. He's been with Elizabeth at a safe house. They're fine. If the doctor says you're ok we'll move you to their locale soon. We need more control over your environment in case they come back again."

()()()

Peter was still proverbially chewing over what he'd talked with Simon about, seething inside as he tried to hide his concern from El who was watching him out of the corner of her eye as she read a book.

"Something wrong, Peter. You're grinding your teeth."

He perked up at her words, feeling a tightness in his jaw that told him he had been doing just that, shaking his head but knowing she was onto him if only a little.

"Just thinking what could have happened if Neal hadn't been there. I'm so sorry, hun."

He moved from his seat by the TV, the box muted to a lower level where it was barely audible but it wasn't as if he was really watching it. His mind was still going over what Simon said. The man knew everything and he didn't know how. His plans so carefully laid out were falling apart but he had to take back control while he could. He sat beside his wife on the sofa and hugged her tightly, El hugging him back and smiling up at him.

"It's not your fault, hun. Neal came to warn us..."

Her voice trailed off, the color draining from her face enough to let him know she was worrying about the young man. The con had ingratiated himself into their lives although Peter held off enough to keep him at arms length despite what people thought. He wasn't attached to the con and would be just as happy without him once he could get away with Elizabeth. He just needed that box... He glanced down at his pocket as his cell phone rang, pulling it out. The caller ID said it was Jones.

"Burke... He did? Thank goodness."

El was looking at him curiously as he spoke on the cell, mouthing "Jones" and then holding up a hand momentarily as he rose and walked around the room while on the phone.

"I'm glad he's ok. Thank you Jones. Keep me up to date. Thanks."

He hung up, turning to find his wife nearby hovering, her arms wrapping around him once he put the cell aside.

"That was Jones. He said Neal woke up. He's... fine according to the doctor. They might bring him here soon once the hospital gives the ok."

He hadn't told her about the attempt on Neal's life and Peter didn't intend to unless it was absolutely necessary. They'd both been through enough and his wife didn't need to be involved in such sordid things. Elizabeth was a strong woman but Peter had to protect her from whatever scheme Simon had to break them apart and keep him from his rightful freedom. He felt his wife squeeze him tight, her chin on his arm as she leaned against him from behind.

"Thank goodness! It's been 7 days... I'm just glad he's doing better. I've been wanting to visit. They're going to bring him here with us?"

Her eyes met his as she asked a question he didn't want to answer. Much as he was appreciative of what the con had done, he wanted to be with his wife alone with no more con men and complications. He nodded, trying his best to act natural.

"Looks like it, hun. They have an adjoining suite so we can visit with him."

He wasn't sure how much he liked the idea of having Neal here but the man had saved his wife. For that act, he felt he owed his would be partner some consideration. He may have been faking before but now he had to think he might have a reason to like the con man beyond finding that box. They were on the same side now more than they had ever been in the past.

()()()

Neal was in shock for many reasons. It was hard to discover he had been out for a whole week but more so the thought someone had tried to kill him who might be associated with his partner. Mozzie had come back to let him know that someone had told Cyrus who he was and he was working on who and how. In the meanwhile, the little guy wasn't taking any chances, disappearing and only communicating with him through burner phones, a new one everyday since the numbers weren't the same so Neal had no way of calling his friend directly, patience waning some when he was finally taken to the safe house with the Burkes. Mozzie still hadn't contacted him after 2 days, a worry setting in that his friend was in trouble but Neal was helpless to do anything about it. In the meanwhile, the doctor said he was fine sending him off with iron pills to help with his residual anemia and some painkillers for his still aching head. The injuries were healed for the most part now but they had kept him 2 more days to observe and be sure he was ok, all the tests coming back negative thankfully.

"We're here, Caffrey..."

Diana was looking at him when he came out of his reverie, mind wandering as he thought about everything that had happened and the nightmare of those words from Peter. It must be a terrible dream caused by the loss of blood and the blow to his head. He had asked the doctor about it, surreptitiously of course and had been told it was possible he could have been hallucinating due to his injuries so he was content to know that was a possibility. He nodded to his colleague, the agent offering to help him but he shook her off with a smile as he eased himself out of the black FBI sedan and looked up at the back end of the safe house / hotel they were staying at. Peter and El were supposedly here but he would have his own suite which suited him. He didn't want to cramp their style and they would be close enough to share an adjoining door which would be enough of a link to the couple who he had come to consider family.

"Thanks Diana... I can walk on my own."

He reached back for the rear passenger door but she stopped him, holding up a hand.

"Head upstairs. I have the luggage. It's room 315."

It was only her and him, Jones busy at the Bureau with investigating who might have tried to kill him. The culprit had managed to avoid the cameras, nobody suspicious showing up on surveillance at all. The DNA wasn't coming up as any known person in their forensics database so that was a bust as well. The FBI continued to look through the footage while Neal was healing, frustration growing at the inability to do anything about the situation. He finally nodded at the agent, entering the rear entrance to the building they were parked in front of. Diana was pulling out his overnight bag as he gave one last look back and then started up the few steps and into a long brightly lit hallway. It was plain, almost too much, something making him think of Mozzie and what complaints he would make about how pedestrian and less than stellar this hotel appeared when he knew the Bureau had more money than this. Only Mozz would be so picky not that Neal wasn't but he could deal if he had to in order to blend in.

"Neal?"

He hadn't realized how far he'd walked, his mind off on a tangent thinking about past stays at hotels even dingier than this. The voice was gentle, surprised and most of all familiar. His eyes gazed up into another set of blue eyes belonging to Elizabeth Burke. Her smiled was tentative, almost uncertain until her hand brushed his arm and finally her eyes lit up as if she was now certain of something.

"El... How..."

He'd barely said that when she pulled on his arm gently, both of them going down the hall as he exited the elevator and he was led to a nearby door. It was marked 315.

"Peter said you were coming today. I convinced them to let June send some things and Peter brought them over. I wanted everything to be perfect."

He could hear the worry there, remembering a vague image of her looking down at him with fear in her eyes. El had worried over him all this time and no matter what it was he had heard in his dreams, this made him forget and realize how wrong he was to ever doubt his friends.

"Thanks. You didn't have to go through any trouble for me."

He was feeling less deserving than he normally did, not wanting to trouble anyone especially El. She was just as much a victim as he had been. Her hand gently grasped his chin, turning his face to hers.

"No trouble. Now... Here's the key."

She smiled, giving him a small keycard after she pushed it into the door slot. The device beeped, blinking green and there was a quiet click of the door as it unlocked. Both of them went inside, El pointing at the adjoining door before leaving.

"I'll let you get settled. Peter's out at the moment but I'm making sandwiches next door in the kitchenette if you want something to eat."

El gently squeezed his arm in a manner that was comforting before letting go. They parted, her smile making him feel better as he turned and saw the elevator had arrived again. Diana was coming out of the metal doors with his overnight bag and one other he figured must be hers. He held the door open for her as the agent nodded at him and went inside, dropping his bag on the floor. The place wasn't the Ritz but it was homey enough as he walked around the small living room / kitchenette area and noticed a door to a bedroom in the back. A door in the room looked to be a small bathroom. His toiletry bag was on the counter along with a few nice Egyptian cotton towels from his own bathroom at home.

"I was going to order something if you're hungry. Jones is at the office with Peter for another hour or more but I'm here with Blake to watch over you. He should be back soon."

He nodded at her then shook his head.

"Elizabeth said she had some food. I'm going to get settled then go over there. Thanks though."

He was quieter than he normally would be, his usual gregarious self a bit off at the moment. Neal watched her eye him up and down as if curious what he was hiding then she nodded as if understanding. He was exhausted and it didn't help his trying to act the con man if he didn't have the energy. Maybe some food then an iron pill might help.

"I'll go next door and see if Mrs. Burke needs anything before Blake comes back in. We only brought a minimum of groceries. Let me know if you need something."

Diana gently hit him on his good shoulder, his other one still wrapped under his shirt where he'd been hit in the chest. The bullet had been high enough up it had entered the shoulder but still had bounced off bone and nicked his lung. He could feel the effort it took to breath despite his week long rest. He still had quite a bit of discomfort because of the wound but his long rest had apparently healed him up more than they had anticipated once he'd been properly hydrated and given transfusions. Neal was far from 100 percent so for now he really just wanted sleep even if he was longing for something more like a walk in Central Park.

"Thanks. I'll walk over in a few."

The agent nodded at him as he spoke, pointing at the adjoining door.

"Your rooms are linked. If you have an emergency just knock on it and someone will open it up for you on the other end."

Neal nodded back, Diana giving him that curious look again as if he were a specimen in a jar. For once she was holding back on what would normally be a string of questions and possibly accusations that he wasn't being himself but she seemed to understand his quietness for what it was and let him be, giving him a wink of encouragement before leaving out the main door. It clicked shut leaving him alone but for the muffled sound of her footsteps outside in the hallway and what sounded like humming or singing from the room next door where El was. He moved over to an armchair beside the shared wall and listened, hearing Diana's voice muffled but definitely the agent's. The two women were talking but that's all he knew as he sat there, leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. In a few minutes he was out cold, his body relaxed and comforted by the fact he was with friends and family.

()()()

Peter wasn't happy with the news that someone had tried to kill his partner even if he didn't think he cared about the con man as much as everyone thought. He wanted out of his deal with Simon but Mozzie was a ghost at the moment and without the exact location of the box he was back where he started without any leverage. Now that he knew his uncle was aware of his deceit he would have to keep a closer eye on his wife, keeping Diana and Jones close. They were loyal to him and he knew they would help him if things were to get worse. He sighed, finishing up some research on the PC in his office when he heard a cough and turned to see Hughes looking in on him.

"You're supposed to be off duty, Burke. Go home to your wife. I'll have Jones escort you back. You're too close to this..."

The older man, more a mentor to him than Kramer ever had been was right and he knew it but Peter was stubborn. He wanted to find what he could on this "evidence box" before Simon did. It was the least he could do to thwart whatever the man had planned and get his own life back as his own. His view was narrow at best when it came to this.

"I'm done for the day, Sir. I just needed to find out some information about Cyrus. I don't think he was behind this on his own. Someone told him about Caffrey."

He watched Reese rub at his chin with a slight nod of his head, closing the door behind him as he lowered his voice for just them to hear.

"I believe you but until we know who, you're all in danger. Go home to Elizabeth, Peter. She needs you and so does your partner."

Peter had risen, nodding to his boss in agreement as the older agent patted him on the shoulder. He'd already logged off his PC, following Reese outside and downstairs. Jones glanced up from his desk where he was on the phone, a curious look there.

"I don't want to see you here for another week. If you need info, get Jones or Barrigan to find it for you."

Reese sounded concerned if anything, nodding back to him as he left, the sound of a phone ringing in his office upstairs. Peter sighed, moving over to where Jones was still on his land line at his desk but looking at the empty one where Neal usually sat. The con had saved his wife of his own accord. It wasn't like he didn't know Neal cared for them but it seemed irrelevant when he had thought he was going to give the man up for his own freedom. Something tightened up in his chest making him think he was feeling ill but maybe just maybe he felt something for the con and didn't want to admit it. Simon had poisoned him to think Caffrey was a means to an end but being in the dark about most of the things he was supposed to be doing to thwart the con wasn't part of the plan. He didn't want to be a "pawn" and now that he had Mozzie to help with the box (if he could find him again) it would be his collateral. Simon would have to stay away or know that Peter wouldn't keep his mouth shut on what had happened. He'd turn in the men who framed Neal's father and find a way to keep himself out of it.

"Peter... everything ok?"

He turned as Jones spoke to him, suddenly noticing how tight his jaw was. He must have been grinding his teeth again, nodding.

"Just peachy. Think I could get a ride back to the safe house? I need to check on my wife."

Peter was frustrated, Cyrus having gone underground and the case basically shot with Simon's interference. He wanted to yell but he didn't, watching the agent nod back as Jones picked up his jacket and locked his PC.

"Ready when you are boss. Diana is on duty today with Blake and another agent. They dropped Caffrey off about an hour ago. You're neighbors."

Jones was being slightly facetious but Peter shrugged, rolling his eyes.

"Good to know."

()()()

Peter stared out the window of the FBI cruiser, mind on things other than scenery. Clinton tried to chat him up off and on and he managed to feign interest but finally an obvious cough drew his attention back to the agent.

"If you don't mind me asking, Sir... Are you ok, Peter?"

Jones seemed genuinely worried, Peter knowing the agent would do anything for him. He appreciated the gesture more now than he might have in the past as he realized he'd come to like where he was. It was hard to admit but maybe he would stay if he didn't have Simon breathing down his neck.

"Fine. Just thinking. Still curious how Cyrus knew about Neal... about El. We didn't mess up but someone leaked his information and mine out."

He left his tone open, insinuating enough in his words that Jones nodded.

"I'll see what I can find on that... under the table. You think there's a leak?"

Jones was perceptive as ever much to his relief, Peter nodding without saying anything else. They were quiet a moment before the agent drove them into the back lot of a Ramada near the edge of town. They parked, both men leaving the vehicle and heading over to the entrance, a familiar figure walking out towards them.

"Sir... Agent Jones. Agent Barrigan is upstairs with your wife and Caffrey, sir."

Blake looked like he was waiting to be excused, Peter nodding at him thankfully.

"Thanks, Agent Blake. I can go up on my own if you both need to get back to the Bureau."

Peter hoped they would leave him alone much as he liked Jones or Diana he wanted to just go up and be with his wife. The agent understood, both leaving together as they said their goodbyes and Peter headed up to the room on his own. He slipped into the elevator as it opened up, not noticing someone coming in behind him quickly until he had turned to push the floor and saw a gun in his face.

"Agent Burke..."

He recognized Cyrus Foxboro immediately, wishing he had his weapon but while he was off duty he had left it in his desk at work per Hughes. Now he was regretting the decision as he held his hands up and watched the man push the button for his floor. The man had dressed down, his hair pushed up under a cap that matched the bland gray uniform he wore of a maintenance personnel for the hotel.

"Simon is an interesting man. Says you owe him. He's offered me safe passage out of the country if I helped collect. Here I am..."

The mention of his uncle made Peter want to spit but he was trapped in an elevator with a madman and upstairs his wife, Diana and Neal were unsuspecting of the danger coming up. Cyrus held out his hand.

"Hand over your phone and any weapons you may have on you... slowly."

Peter could only do as he was told, emptying out his pockets including handcuffs he was wearing inside his jacket but really didn't have a use for while he was on leave. Cyrus smiled, making a motion with the gun for him turn around.

"I know you're not the lock picking expert but your partner... I'm told he has more gifts than I thought possible. It's a shame he went to the good guys and didn't stay honest to himself. Please hold out your wrists..."

The elevator seemed to move up slowly which was both comforting and irritating as Peter tried to think up a way to get help and warn the others. He leaned back on the button panels with his cuffed wrists, unhooking the phone from the emergency latch enough it was active but not obviously so. Maybe... maybe someone would hear them talking and get help.

"Simon has you doing his dirty work now? I thought you were an independent operator, Cyrus. Why do his tasks when you could just run and be free. He won't let you go once he has his hooks on you."

He noticed the man stiffen at his phrasing which is what he had hoped for as he acted as normal as he could. Cyrus glared at him ever so slightly.

"I'm doing this because with you and your snitch out of the way, I can finally get what I need... done. Maybe I could even convince Caffrey to work for me as intended if I promise not to kill you or your lovely wife."

The man smiled, a cold deadly snarl that looked absolutely predatory. Peter wasn't sure how this was going to go down but he had to keep talking, praying someone was listening on the other side of the receiver for the emergency phone.

"He won't work under duress. You can't box him in. The FBI will be on your tail before you can get far. Trust me. My colleagues from the Bureau will be after you in minutes."

He emphasized the latter parts hoping whomever was hearing this would know he was with the FBI. He continued to block the panel as he distracted Cyrus and the man moved closer, warm clove scented breath suffocating him.

"You seem to think your FBI friends are smarter than they look. You thought you could outfox Simon but look how he tricked you. It's a shame that like Caffrey you chose to go your own path rather than the one you were meant to be on."

Cyrus cocked the gun near his face,that smile widening exponentially to something less than pretty. The man wasn't going to let them go even if Caffrey did what he wanted. The con would think he could save them but Simon had never intended on letting him out of his contract, taking advantage of the situation. He stiffened at the sound of the weapon so close to him but continued to stare steely eyed at his captor until they were both distracted by a "ding" as the elevator finally reached their floor.

"We're here. Don't do anything stupid... Fed."

oOoOoOo

Author's Note: Looks like the end is nigh. Peter's a prisoner and nobody's the wiser that danger is coming. So much distrust and deceit... More excitement and whump to come!