White Collar: The Nightingale

Chapter Seventeen

Peter stood in the small hospital shower letting the scalding hot water run down his back. The blood had washed off long ago, but he couldn't find the motivation to leave the comforting warm water. Part of him didn't want to leave the sanctuary and face any bad news that the doctors may have. They had rushed Neal into surgery a little over an hour ago. Diana had called the hospital ER ahead of time and they had been waiting with a full arsenal of medical equipment and personnel.

The first five minutes at the ER had been a blur of organized chaos. Neal was completely unresponsive. His breathing was so weak that they instantly made the decision to intubate him. Peter had a hard time watching them force a tube down his friend's throat but he'd found himself unable to turn away from the horrific scene. The hospital staff rushed their new patient into OR and Peter had been left standing in the waiting room dripping Neal's blood onto the floor.

Peter probably would have stood like a statue waiting in the middle of ER for hours if Diana hadn't intervened. She used the fact that they were Federal Agents to gain access to the ICU room that Neal would be brought to if he survived surgery. She had been the one who suggested that he take a shower while she hunted down a clean pair of scrubs for him to change into.

Knowing that he couldn't stay in the shower forever Peter turned off the water. After drying off he changed into the blue scrubs that Diana had found for him. Peter stepped out into the empty ICU room and felt a pang of anxious nausea. He had no idea how long the surgery would last. He could hear Diana out in the hall talking to someone. Checking it out he found her on her cell.

"Peter is right here, do you want to talk to him?" Diana handed the phone over. "It's Jones."

"Jones, any contact from our kidnappers?"

"When Diana told me your lost your phone I had your calls and text forwarded here. They made contact with another text from a burn phone. It's an address for a restaurant in Chinatown called The Golden Phoenix. They want you to arrive at eight pm sharp alone and order the bird's nest soup."

"Bird's nest soup?"

"That's what it said." Jones said.

"When did you get this text?"

"About five minutes ago."

"Interesting, so they don't know we found him. That could work to our advantage."

"How's Caffrey doing?"

"Still in surgery."

"Everyone here is pulling for him."

"Really?" Peter asked with mild surprise.

"He's one of us...in an odd sort of way."

"Odd is right. I'll let you know as soon as I know anything. In the meantime you should go home and get some sleep."

"I'll probably just sleep here tonight." Jones said. "I'll get as much information on this restaurant as I can, the kidnapper might own it."

"It's a Chinese restaurant, right?"

"Right."

"I'm starting to think we might be in the middle of some Triad/Yakuza turf war, talk to Agent Cheng from Organized Crime in the morning, get his thoughts on it."

"Got it."

Peter hung up the phone and offered it back to Diana. He told her that she might as well go home. It could be hours before the surgery was over and there was nothing she could do in the meantime. Diana protested, but he insisted that he needed her rested for tomorrow night's dance with the kidnappers. Eventually she agreed and stated that she'd be back in the morning since Peter's car was still back in New York.

After Diana left Peter glanced at the clock, it was almost one in the morning. He paced about for a while before settling down on the small couch that was built into the side wall under the window. It was just past two am when the surgeon himself appeared in the door way. Peter got to his feet.

"Agent Burke," the surgeon greeted "your partner is out of surgery and doing well. He's stable and even breathing on his own, which is a very positive sign. They'll bring him in here soon."

"Thank you." Peter said with an audible sigh of relief.

"The bullet did open the peritoneal space and there was a lot of blood in his abdomen, however the intestines were not perforated. There is still an infection risk so he'll be on a powerful antibiotic for a month."

"Thank you again. There was so much blood, I honestly didn't think he was going to survive the night."

"He did need six units of blood along with all the saline. The hypothermia saved his life. The bodies natural reaction to a drop in core temperature is to slow the metabolism and restrict blood flow which increased his survival time."

"Once in the warm car he started to go down hill fast."

"Another ten minutes and he would have been beyond help. Even as it was it was touch and go there for a while. But he's clearly strong willed, which is often the real difference between life and death."

"Is he awake?"

"No, he'll be out for the rest of the night. We'll want to keep him here at least seventy-two hours before transporting him to a hospital closer to home."

"Thank you." Peter repeated.

Both Peter and the surgeon stepped to the side as they brought Neal in. The nursing team easily transferred him from the gurney to the hospital bed. Peter was a little alarmed by the amount of wires that were threaded down the neck of the hospital gown that Neal was wearing. The surgeon assured him that the leads were there simply to monitor his heart and other vitals. An IV of saline and one of antibiotic dripped down into a line embedded in the inset of Neal's elbow.

Once the surgeon and staff were satisfied that their patient was settled and stable they left. Being in an ICU the staff would be constantly monitoring his condition through the various leads and wires that alerted them to every heartbeat and hiccup. Once everyone was gone Peter stepped up to the bed side.

"You gave me one hell of a scare, Kid. I didn't get you out of prison to just end up getting you killed."

Neal appeared to be sleeping peacefully. The last time Peter had seen him he had been fighting for each shallow breath. Now his chest rose and fell in a slow natural rhythm. Peter took his hand for a moment and was encouraged to find it warm. Assured that his friend was doing well Peter wandered back over to the couch. Laying down he was asleep in seconds.

It was several hours before there was any motion in the room other than the periodic check in from the floor nurse. Neal groaned as he slowly came to. For the third time in the past week he was surprised to find himself alive. Not entirely sure what was going on Neal experimented by moving his left leg and was rewarded with a stab of pain that radiated from his side.

"At least I'm warm." Neal muttered to himself.

Having been wet from scrambling through the creek to get away Neal had quickly found the cold to be a lot more discomforting than the gun shot. He took as deep a breath as he dared and opened his eyes. It was still the early hours of the morning and the lights were dimmed. Neal looked over and spotted Peter curled up on the couch sleeping.

"I can't believe you found me."

Exhausted from the stressful events Peter remained locked in sleep. Neal looked up as the night nurse came in. She had been alerted by the monitor that her patient was awake. She walked up to the bedside and smiled warmly. Neal managed a smile of his own.

"How are you feeling?" The nurse asked as she checked the vitals on the monitor.

"I've been better," Neal admitted "but I've also been worse."

"Do you need anything for pain?"

"No, I'm comfortable. As long as I don't move too much."

"Is there anything you need?"

"No. Actually, there is something..."

The nurse listened to Neal's request and although she clearly found it odd she nodded and left to fetch the items. While she was gone Neal brought the head of his bed up so that he could sit up. His side protested the motion, but he ignored it. The nurse returned with a clip board with a dozen sheets of copy paper and a black pen. She placed them on the stand next to Neal's bed.

"You really should be resting." The nurse clucked.

"I don't have time. Thank you for the paper."

"Press the call light if you need anything."

Neal nodded. After the nurse left Neal picked up the clipboard and pen. Neal closed his eyes for a moment to sharpen his memory. Having an image in his mind he put the pen to the first sheet of paper and began drawing. Twenty minutes later Hsing was looking up at him from the page. Neal put the drawing on the table next to his bed and started on another one. Two hours later Neal had half a dozen drawings stacked up on the table.

Exhausted from the surgery and drawing Neal put down the clipboard and closed his eyes for a moment. It was fully daylight out when Neal was gently woken by the nurse. Someone had laid the bed down flat again and Neal was momentarily disoriented. A man he didn't know was standing over him with a practiced smile. The man made Neal nervous until he noticed that Peter was standing next to him.

"Peter." Neal greeted.

"How are you feeling, Neal?" Peter asked.

"Like I got dragged out into the woods and shot."

"My name is Dr. Forest." The stranger introduced himself. "I would like to take a look at the wound if you don't mind."

Neal nodded his agreement to the medical inspection. The doctor pulled the blanket down and pulled up on the gown just enough to expose the large white bandage that had been tapped over the wound. Neal's breath hiss over his teeth in pain as the doctor pulled off the covering.

Neal was shocked by how bruised his side was. He had expected there to just be a set of stitches where the gun shot wounds had been closed. However there was a deep purple bruise that wrapped around from his lower back all the way over to his belly button. Peter seemed to turn a few shades paler looking at the damage. The doctor gently touched the area around the stitched wounds and made a noise of medical approval before replacing the dressing.

"Every thing looks really good." Dr. Forest said honestly. "You should make a full recovery, Agent Caffrey."

Neal lifted an eye brow in surprise at being called 'Agent', but he didn't say anything to correct the doctor. The doctor and nurse both left leaving Peter and Neal alone. Neal looked at Peter and smiled brightly.

"'Agent' Caffrey?" Neal chuckled.

"Don't get used to it."

"I don't know, it kinda has a certain ring to it."

"It was Diana's doing, only family is technically allowed to stay in ICU."

"Well 'technically' you are my family."

"How are you feeling?" Peter asked to change the subject.

"A lot better than I thought I would. When are we going back to New York?"

"We? No 'we'. You're staying here. I however do need to get back."

"I'm coming with you." Neal insisted.

"Oh no, you got shot, you need rest."

"I can rest when this is over." Neal reached over and collected up the drawings he had done. He showed Peter the drawing of Hsing. "There is a woman, her name is Hsing, Liao still has her."

"Liao?"

"Liao Hua, or at least that's the name he gave me." Neal shuffled the papers to the drawing of Tachi. "He forced me to replicate an intricate tattoo on this woman. I don't know why."

"I do." Peter sighed as he looked at the drawing.

Neal listened in horror to Peter's story of the events surrounding the Nightingale sword. His blood ran cold as Peter told him that he had been forced to kill her. Holding the drawing of Tachi in his hands Neal was quiet for a moment.

"I...I helped her do that. I didn't know she needed the tattoo to impersonate a Geisha. I helped her kill all those people. I got her killed..."

"She got herself killed when she decided to attack a party of Yakuza and then rush an armed Federal Agent with a sword."

"I'm sorry, Peter. I know how much you hate killing, even in self defense."

"It's not your fault, Neal. I'm going to get this son-of-a-bitch Liao. Is he the one who shot you?"

"No." Neal brought out a drawing of the Wolf and his partner. "Hired guns. I over heard them saying they were headed to L.A. They should be easy to find, they have a hundred thousand or so in Samurai bonds that I'm sure they'll try to cash. Speaking of which there are several million worth of them somewhere in your house."

"I found them already."

"Really?"

"Well, El found them." Peter admitted. "The Japanese bonds were what gave us the connection to the Nightingale sword."

"You know that if you hadn't taken that sword that I would have been killed. I only got a chance to get away because Liao decided to ransom me for that sword."

"He's still trying. I have a meeting with him, or more likely one of his middle men at The Golden Phoenix tonight to negotiate your release in exchange for the Nightingale."

"The Golden Phoenix?"

"A restaurant in Chinatown." Peter explained. "I'm supposed to order something called 'Bird's Nest Soup'."

"Bird's nest soup?" Neal repeated. "That's a very rare dish in the US."

"Is it really made from a bird's nest?"

"Yes." Neal nodded. "It's the nest of a cave swift, the birds make their nests on the rock face of a cliff, it's made with a special sticky saliva produced by the males that gives the soup its unique texture."

"That's disgusting." Peter said with a look of distaste.

"It's delicious."

"Let me guess: it's expensive."

"A kilogram of 'red blood' nest can cost ten thousand US dollars."

"Yeah, that's why you like it."

"The flavor is amazing." Neal insisted.

"It's hot bird spit." Peter countered.

"It's said to have healing powers."

"Bird spit."

Neal chuckled and then winced in pain. Peter went to push the nurse call light button, but Neal stopped him. Caffrey shuffled through the drawings until he found the one of Liao. He handed it to Peter. Taking the drawing Peter furrowed his brow and pursed his lips the way he always did when he was processing evidence in his mind.

"That's Liao Hua."

"His name isn't Liao," Peter said quietly "it's Jian Zhang."

"You know him?"

"He blames me for the death of his son."