Chapter 6

Peter straightened his tie, then wiped damp palms surreptitiously on his pants, although no one was around to see. He'd like to believe that the sudden sweating was the result of physical exertions on his injuries, and there was undoubtedly some truth to that. His doctor had been reluctant to release him so early, and it had taken all his FBI-learned authority and El's promise to make sure he faithfully kept to his meds before the physician could be persuaded to sign the papers. However, knowing he couldn't afford his thinking to be clouded in any manner, Peter had chosen basic non-narcotic painkillers for that morning, and was now feeling every inch of abuse his body had taken which hitherto had been mitigated by happy juice.

But, if he was honest with himself, the main cause of the perspiration was simple nervousness. He was no stranger to stressful situations - he gave testimony in court on a regular basis, gave presentations to his superiors and even faced murderers coolly while working undercover. Yet he'd never been so worried about screwing up before, since the consequences of such an act would be potentially lethal to someone he'd come to care for deeply.

The doors of the room were still shut, since he'd arrived at the hearing early, having an ulterior motive. He was, so far, the only one sitting on the wooden benches that lined the hall outside, but he knew that was about to change. Solid footsteps approached, faltering momentarily as they turned the corner. Peter suppressed a smirk of satisfaction and looked up with a cordial smile, the smile of a crocodile before it eats its prey.

"Hey, Bill."

The starburst of rage that rocketed up inside his chest at the sight of the man almost caught him by surprise, and he worked to keep that cold blue anger out of his eyes. Images from Neal's interrogation were seared onto his retinas, haunting him. The picture quality had been slightly grainy, mercifully blurring some of the details, but not enough to disguise Neal's injuries - the violent discoloration and swelling on his face and the hunched, rigid posture which betrayed damage that wasn't so visible.

Even worse than the physical damage had been the emotion bleeding from his eyes even though they remained glassy and unfocused. He'd not responded to Seaton's unrelenting badgering, not even flinching as the agent slammed the table with both fists, intense and intimidating. This silence had clearly not stemmed from a refusal to cooperate or from sullenness. Neal was quite obviously in shock. The relief of seeing Neal finally responding to Hughes' presence had quickly been buried under the palpable anguish of that interview.

Maybe Peter wasn't doing as good a job as he believed in hiding the anger that flooded through him, white hot and dangerous, because Seaton looked as if he were considering alternate seating. Peter shuffled along the bench invitingly, forcing the other man to accept the offer or actively snub him.

"Peter. Good to see you alive," he greeted him awkwardly.

"No thanks to you." The words were sharp, but Peter maintained an affable smile, forcing the man on the defensive without giving him an actual reason to leave. He sat through a minute of Seaton attempting to excuse his poor performance before cutting him off abruptly.

"You screwed up - in more ways than one, and I'm telling you now, if in any way you say anything in this hearing that hurts Caffrey's chances of getting out of prison, I guarantee we'll bring charges of brutality against you, and I will personally make sure you never receive that promotion you're bucking for."

He watched with interest as Seaton's cheeks warmed to a choleric red. "There was no brutality. He resisted arrest," he growled.

"Bullshit! You know, it's a shame that neither you nor Neal stuck around for the doctor's report on his injuries. It makes for interesting reading." His face hardened as he took a photograph out of a file sitting on his knees. Boot-shaped bruises were clearly visible on a slim torso. "Would you care to explain to me why you kicked him while he was lying on the ground? I have a doctor who's willing to testify that that is the only way this injury could have occurred."

"I never touched him!"

"So you're telling me you couldn't control the men under your command."

Seaton's mouth snapped shut, and he glared at Peter in frustrated disgust. "What the hell is it with you, Burke - are you soft on this criminal? There's them and there's us. Are you forgetting which side you're on?"

There were so many things Peter wanted to reply to that, but he stuck with one he thought might be understood. "I know this 'criminal' saved my life while my 'side' was too blinded by their own prejudices to see what was right in front of their noses. But I'm a reasonable guy, and I won't make an issue of that as long as you follow my terms."

The look of loathing he received clearly told him that he'd made an enemy for life, but the reluctant nod of assent that accompanied it vindicated his actions. Maybe he could have been more subtle and placating, but he was angry, in a vengeful way he'd rarely experienced before, over Neal's treatment at the hands of the department, and he didn't give a rat's ass about this agent's feeling toward him.

He may have won that fight, but it was only the first part of the battle. But, now that the enemy was engaged, his nervousness had transmuted into an implacable determination. He was going to get Neal out of jail; no other outcome was acceptable. Neal didn't belong in prison, maybe he never had. When Peter had first arrested the young conman, he had attempted to mitigate both the severity of the sentence - by testifying as to the nonviolent nature of his crimes - and the prison conditions - by placing him in Supermax where he would have an individual cell and better guard supervision.

While chasing Neal, he had discovered everything he could about him, as much of his background as he could uncover: every habit, every quirk, every whim. So, when they first started to work together and an easy familiarity seemed to exist between them from the first day, he put it down to that knowledge and the strange dance that had existed between them for the three years he had pursued the young man. However, it hadn't taken long to figure out how much they had in common. It was not superficial interests that they shared - Neal would prefer a good museum to any form of organised sport - rather, their brains meshed. Peter never had to explain his sudden leaps of thought and intuition; Neal could always follow effortlessly. They shared a sardonic sense of humour, but, perhaps most importantly, they both held a strong belief in justice. Peter's was more legalistic, while Neal's was more creative and organic - the type that returns a stolen painting to its rightful owner, rather than its legal owner - but Peter admired that even as he noted its propensity to get Neal into trouble. Now his own sense of fairness was outraged, and he was intent on making the situation right.

The room didn't so much resemble a court as a congressional hearing. The basic layout consisted of one long table with several black chairs spaced along it, facing another with three larger, leather armchairs. Peter had comprehensively researched the records of the three-man adjudicating committee, wanting some indications of what might influence them. Assistant Director Robinson, the man chairing the hearing, was reputed to be fair and open-minded. The same couldn't be said for the OPR representative, Morgan Schmidt. He might not be Fowler, but in Peter's mind, he was tainted with the same corrupt brush. The third member of the Board, Section Chief Walters, was an excellent, if phlegmatic, agent and could go either way.

The three men filed in from the back and took their seats, making themselves comfortable. Robinson called the meeting to order.

"This hearing is to determine the advisability of releasing Neal Caffrey from jail and his future as a consultant to this department"

Peter immediately raised a hand. The assistant director looked slightly surprised to be interrupted so early, but recognised him anyway. "Agent Burke?"

"Assistant Director. I have to say that I am confused by the stated purpose of this hearing - why Caffrey's position is being called into question. The only reason he's in prison right now is because he was arrested for a crime of which he was totally innocent, as my presence here clearly confirms. A crime which, in fact, he had no connection to at all."

"This Board recognises that fact, but the incident has raised some questions as to Mr. Caffrey's conduct, namely his resisting arrest and his escape from custody, and thus his suitability to be working with the FBI."

Robinson obviously considered the matter closed, but Peter raised his hand again. He was aware he might be shooting his career in the foot, but his long service and exemplary arrest record should be worth some latitude. "Assistant Director, I would like to address each of those issues in turn."

He received a slightly impatient nod. "That is the purpose of the hearing, Agent Burke."

"Understood, Sir. I'd just like to save this committee some time. After talking to some of the arresting agents, it seems clear that Neal wasn't attempting to resist anyone. As someone who has arrested him twice, I can attest to the fact that Neal is one of the least violent people you are likely to meet but, with all due respect, if twenty armed men burst into your house, woke you from a deep sleep, and accused you of something you hadn't done, you might panic, too. It seems clear that Caffrey was in shock and didn't even know what he was doing."

The AD raised a hand to cut him off. "Agent Seaton, would you care to address this issue?"

Peter smiled at his colleague benevolently, a fingernail tapping innocently on the file in front of him as the violent crimes agent stumbled through a few questions, trying not to contradict his original report, yet at the same time confirm Peter's explanation. Yes, Caffrey had appeared to be in shock. Now he'd given it some thought, maybe Caffrey hadn't really been violent, just confused. Seaton subsided gratefully when the attention ceased, and he sat stony faced through the rest of the proceedings.

The AD made a notation on the pad in front of him. "I'm happy to drop the issue of resisting arrest, but there is no doubt that Caffrey escaped from custody."

"Assistant Director, if Neal Caffrey had intended to run, he wouldn't be in prison right now. He would be enjoying the cultural attractions of Paris, or soaking up some sunshine on a Caribbean beach. He'd been falsely accused, falsely arrested, and no one believed him, so he was the only one who realised the implications of his innocence - what it meant in terms of my disappearance. If he had not done so, I would almost certainly be dead, so I find it hard to begrudge him 48 hours of freedom." He stared at the three men, daring them to contradict that statement.

Hughes gestured for recognition, and Peter tensed slightly. His boss had certainly supported his attempt to free Neal in private, but publicly he might be forced to play a different role. "I can confirm that Caffrey's surrender was entirely voluntary. He chose to give himself up without any conditions on his own behalf. Considering the information he had, he could have bargained for a reduction of sentence or dismissal of charges, and I would have worked with him. The only thing he asked was that I read the information that led us to free Agent Burke."

The AD looked impressed, but Peter wasn't surprised. He was aware how fiercely loyal Neal was to anyone he called a friend. It was only when Neal believed he owed his loyalty to friends from his former life of crime, and particularly Kate, that Peter worried.

He was beginning to hope that the hearing would be summarily wrapped up, that he could get his partner out of jail, when Schmidt spoke up. "How did Caffrey acquire this valuable information?"

Peter's heart sank, but he kept quiet, hoping Hughes would field the question. After a moment's hesitation, his boss did speak up. "I didn't inquire. Caffrey is a skilled investigator in his own right and has many contacts."

"That's what concerns me. How many of those contacts operate legally? What are we condoning here? I find the idea of a criminal working for us quite distasteful and against everything the Bureau stands for."

Peter tried to judge the effect of this self-righteous speech on the other Board members and choked back the impulse to tell him he'd ended it with a preposition. Robinson was frowning, and it was unclear whether it was in disapproval or agreement. Peter chose to address him directly.

"Sir, this issue was discussed when we started this program. It was felt at the time that Caffrey would be a valuable asset, and he's proved to be so. In fact, he has exceeded all expectations." He held up the manila folder. "If you would like to look at this file, we have documented all the cases that Caffrey has helped us solve." From the early days of their partnership, Peter had been working on recording all the instances of Neal's assistance, hoping that, if anything happened to him, it would help protect Neal.

Schmidt continued his offensive. "Are you telling us, Agent Burke, that you cannot do your job without help from a convict?"

Seaton gave a suppressed snigger, obviously enjoying the other agent being put on the spot, but Peter recognised the trap. "Not at all, Sir." He kept his face impassive, not reacting to the jibe. "But, as agents, we are taught to use every available resource, whether that is technology, experts in various fields, or paid informants. What I am telling you is that, with Caffrey, I can solve crimes quicker and more efficiently."

Schmidt's lip curled in contempt. "It seems to me that we're taking an already resourceful and intelligent criminal and teaching him everything there is to know about FBI policy and procedure. This strikes me as extremely short sighted at best and disastrous at worst."

"I respectfully disagree, Sir. You are assuming that Caffrey intends to continue a life of crime. I believe that by working with him and giving him options, we have reduced the chances of that likelihood to negligible."

"Are you willing to stake your career that he isn't a flight risk, Agent Burke?" the AD asked intently.

"Yes, Sir, I am," Peter answered without hesitation. It was said with definitive assurance, and it was true. Peter was indeed willing to risk his career. He trusted Neal with his life, he would even trust him with Elizabeth's. He would trust him never to run if it weren't for one fly in the ointment, but the fly was more like a Queen Bee, sleek, beautiful and with a deadly sting - Kate. Neal wouldn't run for himself, but all bets were off when it involved that femme fatale. However, the committee didn't need to be informed of that possibility.

"I think that if Caffrey were going to run, he would have done so when he was free of the anklet and supervision, and under suspicion of murder," Hughes reinforced the concept.

Peter decided this was an appropriate time to launch a counterattack of his own. "Sir, since the anklet has been brought up, I would like to express my concerns regarding the misappropriation of the device. This is the second time to our knowledge that its data has been tampered with. It does not appear that this tampering came from the Giordano organisation. To the best of our belief, this could only come from the Marshall's office or within the FBI itself."

"Are you accusing someone?" Robinson leaned forward intently, but there was no censure in his voice.

"No, Sir." Peter resisted the urge to stare at Schmidt. "I haven't found anything...yet... to justify any charges. I just think an investigation into the issue is warranted. I personally would like to know who is so eager for Caffrey to be returned to jail."

It was a calculated precision strike. If Schmidt were to remain strident in his insistence that Neal remain in prison, it would cast suspicion in his direction, and hopefully he wouldn't risk that.

Robinson nodded. "Thank you for your contribution to this hearing, Agent Burke. Do you have anything further you want to add?"

"No, Sir." He suddenly changed his mind. "Actually, yes, I do." He'd kept his testimony impersonal, knowing that revealing the strong friendship that had sprung up between them would only hurt his case. He was there as the world's authority on Neal Caffrey, and he had to give the appearance of impartiality. However, at this point, he believed that putting the case on a slightly more personal level might improve Neal's chances.

"I think we are forgetting something very important; what about the responsibility the FBI owes to Caffrey?"

There was silence. No one seemed to think this was a worthwhile consideration. The range of reactions started with quizzical, moving through skeptical and ending with incredulous. Robinson at least kept it polite. "Would you like to explain your reasoning, Agent Burke?"

"We made an agreement with Caffrey. If he kept his nose clean and helped us, he would stay out of jail. He's more than kept his side of the bargain. He's gone far beyond just consulting for us. He's gone undercover and risked his life several times. Now, through absolutely no fault of his own, he's back in prison. Everybody here knows how the prison grapevine works. Now he'll be known as a narc, a traitor, and every hand will be set against him. We've set him up to be shanked at the earliest opportunity. If we don't get him out soon, he's a dead man, and he's done nothing to deserve that. He may be a criminal, but he's never hurt anyone, and he saved my life and we've just hung him out to dry."

"You have an interesting perspective, Agent Burke." Robinson made a few more notations on his notepad, and silence fell for several minutes over the entire room. The adrenaline high Peter had maintained since he first confronted Seaton started to subside in the pause, and the pain he'd successfully ignored reasserted itself. He discovered that the deep anger had covered an even deeper fear, and he started to second guess himself. Had he been convincing enough? Was there something else he could have said that would have conveyed more credibility? He fought not to slump in the sudden rush of exhaustion, keeping his focus on the Assistant Director.

Robinson leaned over and quietly asked each of the other Board members a question which they both answered with a shake of their heads. Then he straightened up. "Thank you, gentlemen, for your insights. I am convinced that Neal Caffrey is an asset to the Bureau, and that his skills are better applied with us than in jail. He is as much a victim as anyone of the events of the past few weeks, and, in fact, comported himself admirably, if not perhaps always wisely, under extremely difficult circumstances. Section Chief?"

Walters had remained silent throughout the hearing and given no clues as to where his sympathies lay. His decision was critical, as the verdict lay in the balance. It was succinct, but unwavering. "I think results speak for themselves. White Collar's record is currently the envy of all the other sections. Besides, if Hughes vouches for him, who I am to demur."

They'd done it! A tidal wave of knee-weakening relief swamped Peter, soothing his aches but also sapping his strength, the true drain of the day on his body and soul beginning to hit. It was a majority vote, leaving the OPR agent powerless to prevent Neal's release.

Schmidt clearly realised he had nothing to gain by making waves at this point and conceded with a final objection. "I'd like to go on record as opposing experiments of this sort. I believe it blurs lines which need to be kept clear. However, it appears in this instance that Caffrey has earned himself a second chance."

"Excellent." Robinson made a final notation. "Therefore, it is the unanimous decision of this hearing that Neal Caffrey is restored to his former position of consultant to the White Collar Unit. Agent Burke, I understand you believe time is of the essence." He held out a piece of paper. "Take this down to Legal, and they can start processing it immediately."

As much as Peter wanted to get his hands on that document, his body rebelled, unequal to the demands of moving after sitting in place for so long. Luckily, Hughes, sensing his difficulty, and flanking him on the table, rose naturally to intercept. Bracing himself against the table, Peter rose shakily to his feet as the members of the Board filed out, sitting back down with an ungraceful thump as the door closed behind them. He heard rather than saw Seaton depart.

"You're an idiot." Hughes' voice was exasperated, but seemed to contain a chuckle, and Peter glanced up blearily to try to catch a smile on his boss's face. "But you did a good job. Look, I'll drop the paperwork off. You need to get home and rest. You can pick up Caffrey tomorrow."

"No, Sir. I'm getting him out today. But I'd appreciate it if you could light a fire under Legal and have them give me a call when they're ready. I'll sit here for a while and call El."

Finally alone, he allowed himself to relax gingerly in the chair and savor victory before pulling out his phone. "El, we did it!" Her squeal of delight echoed the joy in his own heart. "I'm bringing him home today."