Alright everybody, thank you for such lovely reviews last time. Happy to hear from you, and would still like to hear all of your opinions! Here's the third chapter for Cornered, hope you all enjoy it!

Chapter 3

Peter-

Peter watched with a worried expression as the paramedics loaded Neal into an ambulance. The ex-con's face had been tight with pain and he had been pretty pale, so the paramedics had washed the area where Neal had been injected with the deadly poison.

And the FBI hadn't managed to catch DeMyers or anyone from DeMyers' group.

"Can I go with you?" Peter asked one of the paramedics, but the guy shook his head. "But he's my partner."

"No, we need our room to work. You'll just get in the way." The paramedic said firmly, while the other one went up from to drive. Peter nodded slowly. What the paramedic said was probably true...he would get in the way, which would not help Neal at all.

"Where are you taking him?" Peter demanded. The paramedic turned an annoyed glare on the FBI Agent, but Peter didn't care. Something...something didn't seem right. "Where are you taking him?" He asked again.

And then it hit him. This guy was not a paramedic. The other paramedic was not an actual paramedic. They weren't because Peter had seen them before. With DeMyers.

The criminal must have seen outrage and recognition in Peter's gaze, because he whirled double tapped the ambulance door's hard, after slamming it shut. The ambulance took off as Peter lunged forward, grabbing the criminal by the arms.

"DIANA! JONES!" Peter yelled, as the criminal tried to escape. Peter's team members rushed over, shocked to see Peter putting on cuffs on a paramedic.

"Boss?" Diana asked. Peter shoved the paramedic towards them.

"Lock him up. He, and the other paramedic, aren't actually paramedics. They work for DeMyers." Diana's eyes widened slightly, before narrowing into a dark glare.

"Where's Neal?"

"Gone. The other one got away with Caffrey." Peter said darkly. He was furious, at both DeMyers and himself.

Why didn't you see it before? A voice in his head snarled at him. Neal's poisoned and now kidnapped, and you just stood by doing nothing! Now Neal could die!

Peter recoiled at the thought. No! I won't let that happen! He snapped back at the voice, watching as Jones and Diana led the criminal away. Peter pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

"US Marshals. How may I assist you Agent Burke?" A voice spoke to him. Peter blinked. How did the Marshals know it was him? Must have Caller I.D. or something... He decided.

"I need a location on Neal Caffrey's tracker."

"One moment." There was a pause. "Sir, Mr. Caffrey's tracker just went offline. Do you require assistance?"

Peter glared at the ground. "No." And with that, Peter hung up and gripped the phone very tightly. So tight that his knuckles turned white.

I'll find you Neal. I will. Peter vowed, pausing before adding. And when I do, DeMyers, and everyone else who has helped him, is screwed.

Neal-

Neal let out a yelp as he crashed to the floor, and the ex-con's eyes flew open.

"About time!" He heard a voice snarl, and he glanced around, trying to make sense of the confusing scene. He had been thrown out of an ambulance and to the ground...by a guy who looked furious. Glancing around, Neal saw at least three more pairs of feet, but he didn't want to look up. He felt sicker than a dog, and there was a faint sheet of sweat on his forehead.

Where am I? Where is Peter? He thought with a groan. The last thing he remembered was hitting the ground after Marcus had injected him with the ricin.

"Where's Jeff?" Neal heard a voice growl, apparently talking to the guy that had thrown him out of the ambulance.

"They got him. Burke realized what was going on at the last minute and got him." Neal stiffened at the mention of Peter, but realized that Peter was safe, and relaxed until he felt pain blossom in his ribs as he was kicked angrily by the guy who had asked where Jeff was.

"Well, we got Caffrey. That's what the boss wanted." The voice growled, as Neal struggled back up. A hand grabbed his hair roughly and yanked him upwards, causing Neal to let out a whimper of pain.

No. Don't give them the satisfaction. The ex-con thought to himself, bracing himself for the beating he felt was sure to come.

And what a beating it was!

Neal inhaled sharply from pain he felt when a fist struck him in the gut, and then they were all at him. Hits to his side, his chest, his stomach, hits everywhere were delivered to him. And Neal took it all in silence, though he found that tough, because he knew at least three more ribs broke during the process.

Unfortunately, his silence seemed to irritate one guy greatly, because that guy jerked Neal to his feet, for the ex-con had crashed to the ground during the process of beating.

No, no, no! Neal thought to himself, staring at the guy with a pleading expression. Please, no!

The guy just laughed at Neal's expression and twisted Neal's wrist one way before bringing his other hand crashing down on the ex-con's wrist. There was a sickening snap, and Neal couldn't hold back the scream of agony that tore from his lips. One scream after another, and for a few minutes, that was all that could be heard. Neal Caffrey screaming from pain, but finally, the screams died into whimpers. The jerk who had broken Neal's wrist laughed harder, letting go of Neal as the ex-con hit the ground.

"Oh come on Max, did you have to do that?" One of the other guys protested.

"Would you rather it be you?" Max snapped back. "Besides, Caffrey deserved it. He's a traitor to cons. All of them. Anyone who would voluntarily offer to help catch their own is a traitor. And that's just what Caffrey did." Max leaned down to glare at Neal, who stared back with a pained look on his face as he clutched his broken wrist to his chest. "Isn't it Caffrey?"

"Screw you." Neal snarled, and although he meant for his voice to sound loud and dangerous, all that came out was a weak whisper. Max laughed, before striking Neal in the face with a clenched fist, causing the ex-con's eyes to roll up into the back of his head, and hit the ground again.

This time, unconscious.

"Alright. Now let's take him back to the boss." Max said, nodding to himself as another guy picked Neal up by the armpits and began dragging him into a nearby building.

"You." Max said, turning on the guy who had brought Neal there. "Get rid of the ambulance." Max's voice was dark, deadly, and so it was only natural seeming when the other guy nodded and leaped into the vehicle and raced away.

Max chuckled, and turned to follow all the other men who had gone in after Neal had been dragged in.

"Let the games begin." He said, laughing as he did so, before he disappeared into the building.