Note: Wow...long chapter is long (again). Enjoy!
Chapter Four
Arriving at the Blue Duck Tavern a few minutes late Neal followed the hostess through a corridor with glass walls that displayed a very impressive wine collection behind the thick protective glass. The stone floor and warm light added to the ambiance of the modern style decor. Neal had to look twice at the far wall of the main dinning area which at first he thought was made of blue stone, but what proved to actually be rectangular stripes of denim jeans that had been used as wallpaper. The downstairs area seemed like little too public of a place for Frost to want to meet to discuss anything illegal giving Neal the impression at first that this might indeed just be a social visit. However when the hostess lead Neal upstairs he found himself in a much more secluded area that didn't look open to the general public with low level lighting and only a few scattered business or possibly political diners.
Neal spotted Frost sitting at a mahogany table near the window in the far corner and Frost waved him over. The upstairs room had been designed to offer the dinners far more privacy than the main floor, with the tables a good fifteen feet from one another and various large artificial plants scattered around that helped obscure some of the view. From the look of the men at the few other occupied tables spread out from one another Neal got the impression that anyone eating up here knew to mind their own business so that other didn't mind theirs. Nestled in the corner with his back to the wall near the window Frost had a good vantage point to keep his functional right eye on the room with no way to sneak up behind him and the wall protecting his blind left side. In the lower light Frost's glass eye glittered brighter than his real one making it more noticeable.
Frost got to his feet as Neal approached the table, smoothing out his royal blue Charet tie as he did so. Wearing a custom fit Armani charcoal colored suit Frost gave off a very different impression than the polyester blend outfit he had been wearing the first time Neal had met him when he was pretending to be the socially awkward 'Professor' Devon Frost. With a gleaming smile splitting his dark face Frost held his hand out for Neal to shake. Neal accepted the offer before sitting down across from Frost. Neal still wasn't sure what to expect from this meeting but Frost seemed very relaxed and casual.
"Glad you could come, Neal." Frost said. "How was your first day at the Bureau?"
"I'm still settling in." Neal admitted.
"Give it a week and it will feel like home. How's Peter taking to being Section Chief?"
"He can already chase the other Agents out of the room with just a glare."
"Perfect." Frost chuckled. "I thought he'd fit that role well. Does he have you working on a case yet?"
"Two actually."
"He expects you to hit the ground running, eh?" Frost chuckled. "Or is he just trying to keep you busy to keep you out of trouble?"
"Usually I'd say it was the latter, but the first case was my own choice. I've always wanted to look into the Gardner heist."
"It's certainly a classic." Frost nodded.
"Is it something you've looked into?" Neal asked, managing to get a question of his own in to the conversation.
"Naw." Frost shrugged indifferently.
"I would think 500 million worth of missing art would be right up your alley."
"That case is a little too…'domestic' for my taste." Frost winked with his glass eye which had an oddly disconcerting effect. "Don't get me wrong if anyone on my watch list was selling anything on the list of missing goods from the Gardner I'd perk right up, but as it is that's a back burner case in my world. It would be nice to get the Rembrandts back though if nothing else."
"The main theory is that the Gardner works were never sold, there is a good chance they are all still together in one place and that the men who stole them were just thugs hired to do so for a private collector."
"For pulling of the heist of the century they were not exactly skilled art thieves." Frost agreed.
"Slashed the paintings right out of their frames." Neal tisked as he shook his head sadly. "It wouldn't have taken them more than ten extra minutes to pull the staples out and remove them properly. Instead they put a knife through two Rembrandts and a Vermeer…I'm angry just thinking about it. It's was an atrocity."
"Fascinating." Frost smiled.
"What?"
"You sound like a Fed already."
"Just because you steal something doesn't mean you can't respect it."
"Amen."
Frost lifted up his glass of ice water and held it out for Neal to clink against it. Chuckling Neal picked up his own water and humored Frost in the unusual toast. Starting to relax in Frost's company Neal started to notice he was getting genuinely hungry. Before he could ask if dinner had been an empty promise the waitress appeared out of seemingly nowhere with two identical plates that held perfectly seared rib eye steaks and a colorful display of an eclectic variety of vegetables with some sort of sauce drizzled across the plate that was more for decoration than flavor. Putting down the meals in front of the men she was quickly followed by another waiter who had a pair of glasses filled with a deep red wine. As quickly as they had come the two employees vanished.
"I took the liberty of ordering for us both before you arrived, mostly because I was hungry." Frost explained. "I hope you like your steak rare otherwise I'm afraid we can't stay friends, it's simply the only way to cook a steak."
"I've been trying to explain that to Peter for years." Neal replied admiring the artistic presentation of the meal. "If you don't watch him carefully he'll turn a good steak into a hockey puck."
"Unacceptable." Frost mocked. "Bryant complains as well, he says I might as well just sink my teeth into a live cow and cut out the middle man if I'm not interested in actually cooking it."
"Where is Bryant?"
"He's not listening in if that's what you're asking." Frost replied as he cut into the bright red steak. "I didn't feel like I needed back up this time around."
"But you did feel the need to make sure I didn't have any either." Neal accused lightly.
"What?"
"You don't really expect me to believe that Peter got called back to the office minutes before he and I were headed to his house for dinner."
"Feeling a little paranoid, Neal?" Frost teased.
"Wouldn't you if you were me?"
"Good point. I didn't call Peter away, I promise. Although I did want to get you alone tonight." Frost admitted. "I was going to wait til later to call assuming that you'd be with Peter tonight."
"How did you know to call right then? Do you have my apartment bugged or Peter's phone tapped?"
"Neither. I do however have both of your cell phones on 'locate'. I checked to see where you two were. When Peter left and you didn't I assumed you were free for dinner."
"I've had enough of being tracked." Neal said darkly. "You have no right…"
"I'm sorry, Neal, I didn't think of that." Frost interrupted with an apology. "I've been watching people for so long and been watched in return that I've just gotten used to it. It's not even a special tracker or anything, it's part of just about any smart phone operating system that shares your location with friends and vice versa."
"So I can track you?" Neal asked doubtfully.
"Absolutely." Frost confirmed. "Pull your phone out and check the Location Services, you'll find me there."
Neal decided to call Frost's bluff and pulled out his phone. Flicking through the menu options Neal found the app and opened it. The screen that came up gave him the option to check on Frost, Bryant, and Peter's location. Neal tapped on Frost's name and although his phone was telling him Frost was five feet away Neal doubted that he could count on the application always being truthful about Frost and Bryan's location. Choosing not to check to see if Peter was still at the office Neal turned off all of the phone's location services even though he was certain that Frost could just remotely turn them back on.
"Neal, please don't be angry. You had to know I had the ability to track your phone…I'm black ops CIA, you know that about me." Frost said bluntly. "I'm a strong believer in safety in numbers and part of that is knowing where people I can count on are."
"Privacy still matters."
"In this digital age privacy is just an illusion, Neal." Frost mused sounding a lot like Mozzie. "Video surveillance is so cheap these days that it's everywhere. Step into the back seat of a taxi cab and you're on video, walk across a busy street and the traffic cam has eyes on you, this restaurant recorded both of us entering through the front door. There are microphones set up all over this city that instantly alert the police and the FBI if there are gun shots fired and it can triangulate the shots to within ten meters of the source. How many times have you ended up in the background of some photo of a giggling girl pretending to take a selfie but really just wanting to show her girlfriends the uncommonly handsome guy sitting one table over?"
Neal couldn't help but to automatically glance over his shoulder even though the other tables here seemed to be minding their own business. Neal suddenly realized that although he could hear the others talking softly he couldn't make out any words. A look around proved that the walls and ceiling were made with acoustic dampening materials and there was a very low white noise hiss that further scrambled the soundscape. The upstairs of the Blue Duck was obviously a common and purposefully meeting ground for the DC elite.
"You think I sit with my back to the wall because I'm afraid I'm going to get shot with a gun?" Frost chuckled. "Hell no, I'm making sure no one is sneaking a pic of me with the tiny electronic miracle that 99% of the population obsessively carries around in their pocket. On the plus side crime, particular violent crime, is getting harder to get away now that every citizen is armed with video ability."
"Alright, alright." Neal sighed in surrender. "Point taken."
"If it makes you feel better I will call you and ask you where you are instead."
"Thanks." Neal replied dryly.
"I'm sorry, Neal, I really wasn't thinking I should have realized that being tracked was a bit of a sore spot for you considering the past few years." Frost apologized. "Don't let this spoil your appetite, this steak is too good to let it get cold."
Neal did find that most of his appetite was gone, however at Frost's insistence he did try the steak and had to admit that it was amazing. Frost watched Neal with a concerned expression for a moment before returning to his own meal. Feeling that Frost was waiting until after they were done eating before telling him why he'd asked him out here Neal ate through half of what he'd been served like it was a chore to be completed before pushing the rest away. Seeing that things weren't going as well as he'd hoped Frost put his silverware down before reached down by his feet to pull a case file out of his shoulder bag.
"Okay, Neal, let's get back on track." Frost said as he dropped his voice to increase their privacy. "I have an assignment for that should cheer you up."
"I don't need cheering up. I'm irritated, not depressed."
"I'm sensing that, and I'm truly sorry. I don't really socialize with anyone other than Bryant these days and I tend to forget how it's done."
"Clearly."
"This should help." Frost put the file down in front of Neal and opened it displaying a profile page with a small picture of a man of at least partial Middle Eastern decent in what looked like a driver's license photo. "This is Alan Bashiri and he has an Afshin Pirhashemi painting that I need you to get for me."
"Get for you?" Neal repeated distastefully.
"Do you like the term 'acquire' better?"
"Not really. I don't understand, is he a terrorist?"
"That's racial profiling, Neal, and I resent it." Frost teased.
"I just assumed since you want me to steal from him that he must have some sort of connection."
"No, nothing like that. He's third generation American, his background is Egyptian, he's the CFO of a medical electronic company in Baltimore that makes various devices. He's perfectly clean. I mean he's a democrat but I don't hold that against him."
"Is the painting stolen?"
"No, he bought it at auction a few weeks back."
"Then why you want me to 'acquire' it?"
"This painting has recently come up on the 'Ivory List'. It's a…"
"It's a list of most wanted black market art, a wish list for the wealthy collectors who don't care how they get it." Neal finished. "It's like a reverse Ebay, buyers put up what they want and what they are willing to pay, sellers can decide what jobs they want."
"Of course you'd know about the Ivory List." Frost nodded in approval. "I don't recall your name ever coming up when we've been investigating it though and I've kept my eye on it very closely for years."
"No, I never had any interest in it. Working the Ivory List is a good way to get killed, less talented but patient thieves will often stake out a piece on the list and wait for someone else to take it so they can murder the original thief to take the piece once it's past whatever security it was behind." Neal explained. "Plus I didn't want to be an errand boy for eccentric rich men, I used a proper fence anytime I ended up with a piece."
"Smart move, and in this case I'm going to be your fence."
"To what end?"
"Don't worry about the details." Frost shrugged.
"Too late, I'm worried."
"Let's just say that we've been trying to catch the buyer who posted the listing with his hand in the cookie jar for several years now with no success, but we've never had a chance like this. He might not be actively seeking terrorists to fund, but he certainly knows that he's a major source of income for them and he doesn't care. It's complicated, but I'm not asking you to get mixed up in the messier side of things, you just need to get the painting and Bryant and I will take care of the rest."
"So my job is just to steal from an innocent man." Neal stated rather than asked.
"Yes." Frost confirmed with a bright smile that faded slightly when he saw the hesitant look Neal was giving him. "I'm sorry, is that a problem?"
"Frost…I'm really trying to clean up my act."
"What? Why?" Frost asked genuinely surprised. "There's no need to clean up anything. I want you dirty, Neal…wow, that did not sound good."
"It really didn't."
"Don't worry I'm not gay." Frost chuckled before he looked Neal over. "Well maybe a little gay for you, but who wouldn't be?"
"Amazingly enough the odd turn this conversation has suddenly taken isn't making me feel any more comfortable."
"I'm sorry, I guess I just didn't expect you to be uncomfortable with this job in the first place." Frost apologized. "I thought you knew from the start that this is what you signed up for. I told you who I am and what I do before you agreed to any of this."
"You told me that Peter and I would be solving lost treasure riddles to help prevent terrorists from funding attacks on American soil."
"And I still have big plans for you two with that, I have a dozen cases for you to chose from when the time comes. However I wanted to let you and Peter settle into the Art Crime division a little more before handing you two 'extra work'."
"Then why are you asking me to do this now?"
"Because this is a quick and easy job, and not to mention the other reason I have you. I didn't originally approach you to join us because you're a world class thief, but since you are I might as well make use of that talent as well."
"I don't like being used." Neal snarled.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Yes you did."
Taken aback by Neal's aggressive tone Frost paused to reevaluate the situation. Neal's heart was racing, he hated risking everything he'd worked the past five months at the Academy to gain by defying Frost, but at the same time he didn't want Frost thinking that he was just going to blindly accept any assignment handed to him. He certainly didn't want his first mission for Frost being something that was going to instantly end up on Peter's desk as a case file.
"Why are you acting like I'm the bad guy here?" Frost broke the silence. "Did Peter tell you that I'd only ever see you as an asset? That he thinks I'd sacrifice you to get what I want without a second thought?"
"The idea has certainly crossed both our minds."
"That's not what this is." Frost assured. "You're part of my team, Neal, you and Peter both. I am a military man at heart and my team is *everything* to me. When something goes wrong I don't lose men I lose brothers. I laid my career on the line for you, and I would lay my life down for you if it ever came to that. You are not just an asset."
Neal wasn't sure how to respond to Frost's heartfelt reply. Knowing Frost's military past and what he'd been through for his country Neal found himself wanting to believe him, however recalling Frost's tactics reminded him that of all the con artists he'd ever dealt with in a way Frost was the best he'd ever seen. Gritting his teeth in frustration Neal brought his hand down off the table and put it in his lap to hide it from Frost as his ring and pinkie finger started to cramp and curl in towards his palm.
"I should have come to both of you on this, shouldn't have I?" Frost sighed heavily when Neal didn't say anything. "I just felt that Peter probably wasn't ready for you to be stealing again, he's certainly not ready for me to be asking you to. He's always been so protective of you, probably because you remind him of Ethan."
"Who?" Neal asked automatically not recognizing the name.
"He never told you?"
"I wouldn't be asking you if he had." Neal said icily. "Who's Ethan?"
"I…I'm sorry, It's not my place to tell you." Frost shook his head looking guilty. "I shouldn't have said anything. Please, do us all a favor and don't ask Peter about him, that conversation will not go well if he's not ready to have it and he might never be ready for that. I'm sorry I mentioned him, just forget it."
Neal narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he regarded Frost. It had felt like Frost had slipped the unknown name into the conversation organically, but it could have just as easily been a planned move. By bringing up someone that Peter was supposedly keeping a secret was a good way to try and create some friction between them and cast doubt on Peter's own intentions. Warning him not to ask Peter for the truth for his own sake was the perfect cover. Ethan probably never even existed or was no one of consequence.
On the other hand Neal had to admit that Peter rarely talked about his own past and the bits and pieces that Neal had learned over the years didn't fit together very well. Six years worth of a math and account degree with his pick of Fortune 500 companies to work for only to end up as a professional athlete for two weeks before deciding to enter the FBI after fully recovering from the supposed injury that ruined his baseball career wasn't exactly a clear picture of Peter's life choices. Neal had always felt there was some missing piece that had pushed Peter into the FBI and probably his 'by the book' attitude as well.
Neal recalled having asked Peter why he hadn't gone into the private sector where he probably would have made a fortune and Peter had instantly deflected with a story about how he wouldn't have met Elizabeth if he hadn't joined the FBI. Although that was true, it didn't explain why he made the decision in the first place. He wouldn't have had any way of knowing he was going to meet his future wife the day he signed up for the Academy. Trying to decide if Frost was playing with him or not Neal shrugged his shoulder with a slight wince as it started to ache with an all too familiar pain.
"Neal?" Frost asked concerned. "Your shoulder doesn't still bother you, does it?"
"No." Neal lied.
"If you need a doctor or a psychiatrist I can…"
"I'm fine. It's nothing."
"If you don't want to do this, that's fine, I understand." Frost closed the file and put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "I knew it was a little too soon, but I thought you were the best person to come to with this and I had to act fast. This painting is hanging in a private residence of a family man and the last time I hired 'outside talent' to steal something for me three innocent people ended up dead. I didn't mean to pressure you into something you're not ready for. I'm sorry."
"Frost…"
"I came to you because I can know I can trust you." Frost continued. "However I can see that you're not ready to trust me yet."
"I want to, I really do, but my gut is telling that I shouldn't."
"Your gut? Man, you went native so much faster than I thought you would." Frost smiled warmly. "My boss is going to kill me. Oh well, like I said I never really wanted to work with you because of your sticky fingers. I'm sure Peter is proud of you and in a way I am too. How about dessert?"
"Dessert?"
"Yeah, this place as a mocha chocolate cake that is literally award winning."
Frost motioned for the waitress that was standing by the top of the stairs. She looked in his direction and he simply held two fingers up, apparently knowing what he wanted she disappeared downstairs towards the kitchen.
"That's it?" Neal asked cautiously.
"They have a fairly decent cheesecake, but you basically being a New Yorker and all I wouldn't think that DC cheesecake would be up to your standards."
"No, I mean that's it about the painting?"
"That's it. I'm not going to try and force or blackmail you into doing this. I could, but I don't see how that would benefit either one of us. You are always free to turn me down, it's simply up to me to find something you're more interested in." Frost said confidently. "Plus, oddly enough there is a huge amount of paperwork involved in making someone disappear into a secret government prison so I'd rather not go that route."
"So what are you going to do about the painting?"
"I'll think of something." Frost shrugged. "I always do."
"You could warn the owner, if they knew they were a target…"
"Someone is going to steal that painting, Neal, once it's on the Ivory List for this kind of price it's as good as gone. Warning the owner will just make matters worse. The more security gets put around it the higher it will drive the price for it, and the greater the chance that someone will get hurt." Frost explained. "My goal isn't to prevent a single crime, Neal, my goal to prevent wide spread bloodshed."
Neal took a breath to say more but Frost suddenly stiffened slightly and shook his head. Neal glanced back over his shoulder and noticed that the waitress was returning with their dessert order that Neal had absolutely no interest in. Neal was confident that the waitress was someone Frost trusted considering how well they silently communicated with one another, but he could understand Frost still wanting to use some discretion.
The waitress came and went leaving behind the rich dessert that Frost attacked with gusto. Frost had closed the file but he hadn't put it away. After a moment Neal reached over and pulled the file closer and opened it. He knew he should just leave but he felt he needed to at least look at what Frost wanted before sticking to his refusal. It was very rare for an item on the Ivory List to be part of a private collection, usually it was reserved for items in museums and galleries that weren't available for purchase. According to the file the painting had originally cost three hundred thousand, but the job for obtaining it was set at five million. Usually there were layers between buyers and sellers on t he Ivory List to protect both, however the buyer Frost was interested had tipped his hand by trying to offer to buy the painting from Bashiri before hand without success. The CFO who owned it was certainly doing well for himself, he lived in a large mansions on the outskirts of Baltimore with some impressive security, he probably liked the painting more than he needed the money.
Looking through the information what caught Neal's attention the most was the fact that Mr. Bashiri had a wife and three younger children. If his Pirhashemi painting really was on the Ivory List they might end up either injured in a careless break in or worse yet purposefully taken to be held as ransom in return for the art. Even the super wealthy couldn't just fill a duffel bag with five million in cash for ransom without drawing a massive amount of attention, but something as easy as a painting could be easily and even instantly handed over without involving police. With the bounty placed on this painting Frost was right it was only a matter of time, and probably not long, before someone invaded the Bashiri home and the risk of the smash and grab becoming violent was high.
"I'll do it." Neal sighed in defeat.
"Neal, you don't ha…"
"Never come to me with another Ivory List case or anything similar. Understood? I will help you recover art that's been lost, but don't ask me to just be a common thief again." Neal said firmly. "It isn't who I am anymore. Is that clear?"
"Five by five, Agent Caffrey."