Chapter Five:

The FBI picked the most inopportune time to barge into the building, flashing badges, a warrant, and guns blazing.

Peter was near the head of the group, eyes sharp and calculating. All personnel in the room froze. Looks of shock and confusion were blatant on their face. Peter felt a surge of fear spike through him when he saw a gurney.

Joy looked up, hand frozen on the syringe she was about to hand to the doctor who was on call. Strands of her hair were coming out from her tight bun, matching with her frenzied state. Never would she have expected the charming young man to be so on edge that he would be willing to attempt suicide!

"Neal!" Peter shouted, flicking the safety on his weapon as he rushed forward. Other agents swarmed the building. The elder agent rushed over to his partner, taking in the pale skin and deathly still body.

The doctors, driven by their nature, quickly spurred back into action, calling out orders as they attempted to save a life. The agents gave them a clear berth, their actions condoning their behavior.

Not to mention Peter Burke hovering like a helicopter parent, worry evident in his eyes, as he ordered the doctors "You had better save him! I swear I will throw you in jail for being a part of this!" His threats and rants luckily fell on deaf ears.

Quickly, they pumped his stomach and Peter had to avert his eyes as the sight and smell made his own stomach turn.

Everything seemed a blur of movement. The seasoned agent felt dizzy, as if the world was spinning and tilting all around him. Diana's calm voice broke through the rushed haze. "Boss," her guiding hand led him from the crazed foray. "We need to find Powell. One of the nearby attendants said that he was being prepped for surgery."

Those words snapped him out of his haze and incensed his anger. "Right." His mind was focused strictly on finding that bastard who had put Neal in this situation in the first place. "Let's get this bastard and throw him back in jail."

"I have a feeling the judge won't feel like accommodating him and his illness this time." Diana murmured as the two crept down the hallway, guns armed and loaded. "Especially when he broke out of the jail and accommodations he asked for."

A nurse in green scrubs was standing outside of a closed door, looking around in confusion and worry. It seemed like she was straining to hear any of the commotion located down the hallways. Her eyes widened when she saw the FBI embossed vests.

"Miss," Peter said, lowering his gun. "We have a warrant to search the premise and search for the escaped convict and kidnapper Maxwell Powell."

"Oh," the woman was obviously flustered, "The uh d-doctors are prepping him for surgery." She turned and opened the handle, ushering the man and woman inside the sterilized room.

The entered, announcing their presence and clearly startling the attending doctors. One even dropped a scalpel on the floor.

"This surgery is off. Wake him up." Peter commanded, gesturing at the man with his gun. The doctor pulled down his mask. The room was no longer sterile, so it was quite obvious the surgery wouldn't take place.

"How long will it take for him to wake up from the anesthesia?" Diana asked.

"Not long," a nurse said, taking a step back from the man as she pulled away equipment and the mask covering his face. "We only just sedated him."

Peter felt an unmistakable feeling of satisfaction after Powell's eyes flickered open, drowsiness falling away into clarity and then fear when he looked at the barrel of a gun. "Hello, Mr. Powell. We meet again."

TBC