White Collar: The Nightingale
Chapter Twenty
"I'm not eating this."
"You should at least try it."
"No way. Worst case scenario: it's been poisoned. Best case scenario: it's just bird spit. Neither one of those options sound particularly appetizing."
Neal's quiet chuckle carried over the discrete ear transmitter that Peter was wearing. Sitting alone in The Golden Phoenix restaurant Peter poked at the bird's nest soup with a wide ceramic spoon. The soup had a strange consistency like a gelatin that turned Peter's stomach. Neal was in the van with Jones and Diana listening in on the action.
"Its been nearly half an hour." Peter noted. "I don't think Zhang is going to contact me. Either he knows you're alive or he's decided that he doesn't want the sword that badly."
"He wants the Nightingale," Neal said confidently "he's gone through way too much trouble to get it to stop now."
"I can't imagine what is so special about it to warrant this much attention. From what I understand it can't be resold."
"Maybe he plans to trade it for something that is worth more than money."
"Like what?"
"Only a few things are worth more than money. The first thing that comes to mind is someone's life. The music box was priceless to me because it was a chance to get Kate back, no amount of money would have persuaded me to sell it."
"I can't imagine who or what someone could have taken from Zhang to make him this desperate."
"I could be wrong. Either way he shou..."
"Hang on." Peter interrupted. "Someone is approaching."
A young Chinese woman in a traditional red dress with gold trim walked up to the table where Peter was sitting and sat down opposite of him. Peter smiled politely at her as she stared at him without any discernible emotion.
"This is not exactly what I was expecting." Peter said to break the silence.
"I am here as a mediator between yourself and my employer." The woman said. "My employer can hear you just as your men can hear me."
"She's wearing a transmitter like you are," Jones said "keep her talking, we might be able to tap into the signal and get a location."
"Doesn't this mean Zhang must be close?" Neal asked.
"Depends on his equipment and if he's bouncing it off more than one receiver."
"Does your employer have a name?" Peter asked as he tried to pay attention to both conversations.
"If I wished to give you my name you would have heard it by now." The woman parroted Zhang. "There is a street festival tomorrow night, bring the Nightingale. There will be a large blue dancing dragon with golden horns and emerald eyes. Present the sword to this dragon and he will eat it. The dragon will deliver the sword to me and I will release Caffrey."
"Just like that you'll let him go?"
"I will."
"What will keep you from just killing him once you have what you want?"
"Killing is very messy." Zhang replied through his interpreter. "It is much easier to release him. I had ever intention of ending my business with him peacefully before you stepped in and forced me to take these actions."
"It was rather peaceful out in the woods until his men tried to kill me." Neal grumbled.
"You have my word that I will release Caffrey. However, I can not be blamed if your little bird decides not to fly back to you."
"So basically I give you the sword and in return you give me your word that Neal is somewhere in the world enjoying life on the lam?" Peter summarized.
"He made a good deal of money while in my employ. I will not guarantee that he will willingly return to you. That is none of my business."
"Keep him talking, Peter." Jones said. "We are having trouble breaking into the signal."
"I need better assurance that Neal will be released alive." Peter pressed.
"I can not give you better assurance that I intend to release him. However I can further impress upon you that I am prepared to make him suffer greatly if you do not do as I ask. Is keeping the sword worth risking your friend a slow and agonizing death?"
Peter tensed as the woman reached up to the flap closure of the front of her dress. She moved slowly as she pulled a small digital voice recorder from it's unusual hiding place. Placing the recorder on the table she pushed it towards him. Furrowing his brow Peter picked up the recorder and held it up to his ear that held the transceiver before pressing play.
The recorder's volume was low for privacy but Peter could still discern Caffrey's voice as he moaned followed by a rapid shallow breathing that could easily be interpreted as someone trying to hide how much pain they were in. Peter however knew exactly what he was actually listening too and quickly shut the recorder off.
"Huh..." Neal mused. "Taken out of context that does sound painful."
"What's the proper context?" Diana asked.
"You don't want to know." Peter muttered.
"Excuse me?" The woman asked.
"Peter, tell him you'll do the drop." Neal said quickly. "I have an idea. Trust me."
"I..." Peter hesitated. "Don't hurt him. I'll get you the sword."
"Give the Nightingale to the blue dragon tomorrow at midnight. If you follow this woman...I...he will kill me."
There was genuine panic in the woman's eyes as she relayed what Zhang had just said to Peter. Peter put his hands up in surrender to show her that he had no intension of following her. She looked around nervously before getting to her feet and leaving.
"Peter? Is she gone?" Neal asked.
"She's heading out the door now, turning North down the street."
"What does she look like?"
"Long black hair, bright red dress with gold trim, five five, maybe five six."
With the description in mind Neal pulled off the headphones that he'd been using to listen in on Peter's conversation. Before Jones or Diana could react he bolted for the van exit. The sudden motion pulled at his stitches and he could feel a small amount of blood seep from the angry wound. Ignoring the pain he hurried out into the crowded Chinatown street.
"Neal? Neal!" Diana shouted. "Caffrey, stop!"
Neal looked over his shoulder and saw that Diana was chasing after him. Looking around for a way to lose her Neal caught sight of a man pulling out a box of matches to light a cigarette. Bumping into the man Neal picked the match box out of his hand. The man protested, but Neal was already on the move again.
Neal went directly to one of the prevalent of firework stands that had sprung up on the street in preparation for the festival. Pushing a box of snapping type fire works onto the ground he quickly lit and toss a match on to the pile. The fireworks ignited violently and began popping, sparking, and hissing angrily.
An instant chaotic panic was started in the crowed night street. In the confusion Neal was easily able to lose Diana and headed straight for The Golden Phoenix around the corner. The woman in red hadn't made it very far and he easily caught up with her. Neal came up behind her and matched her brisk walking pace.
"I need to talk to you." Neal hissed into the woman's ear.
The woman jolted in surprise as she whipped around to face Neal. Her almond eyes widened in fear. She looked around the street for the best direction to run. She suddenly froze in place and turned her head slightly to the side as she listened to Zhang.
"He is a tall white man with black hair and blue eyes...he is bleeding." She informed Zhang as she noticed the blood stain that had seeped through Neal's once white shirt.
"Liao, it's me, it's Caffrey."
"What wine were you served recently?" The woman demanded.
"Cossart Gordon Madeira 1908 Bual."
"Speak, he is listening."
"No." Neal shook his head. "Liao, tell her to give me the ear piece. I want to talk to you alone."
Neal held his hand out. The woman hesitated while she waited for orders. She nodded and then reached up and pulled out the small ear transmitter. After placing it in Neal's hand she turned around and melted back into the crowd. Neal put the ear piece in as he stepped down into a back alley for some privacy. Alone in the dirty alley he stood behind a large dumpster to ensure that Diana didn't interrupt him.
"Liao..."
"Mr. Caffrey, you are a survivor. I admire that. However, it sounds as though you did not escape unscathed."
"I'm fine." Neal said casually. "I don't have much time. I want to help you."
"Help me?"
"Peter has no intention of following through with the drop tomorrow night. He knows you have no leverage. However, I can get the Nightingale for you."
"Why would you steal the sword for me? Clearly you have rejoined with your F.B.I friend."
"Yeah, and I visited your penthouse this morning with him."
"Did he enjoy the art gallery?" Zhang asked with a chuckle.
"All too well. Once Peter figures out that the art work is mine, and he will, my life is *over*." Neal snarled angrily. "I need to get out before that happens."
"What do you want in return?"
"Ten million. One in cash, the rest in bearer bonds and easily portable gem stones including the Sapphire Waterfall."
"What makes you think I have access to such things?"
"Men like you stay on the move. It's a trick I need to learn, I got caught the last time because I came back here. I won't make that mistake again."
"You are a clever one." Zhang admitted. "I will have someone meet you..."
"No." Neal interrupted. "I will only deal with you alone. I have no interest in dealing with any more of your hired goons. My number is 212-555-0711, call me tomorrow at ten pm sharp and I will give you details as to where to be."
"How do I know your F.B.I friend won't be there?"
"Weren't you listening?" Neal spat. "Thanks to you he has enough evidence to put me in prison for the rest of my life, I am not going to let that happen. Plus he barely believes a word I've said about what happened. He thinks this all a con of mine that went bad. You played your hand perfectly."
"Oh?"
"Whatever trust there was between Peter and I it is gone now."
"How did you convince him to let you come and have this little chat with me?"
"I set the street on fire to get away."
"Is that what all that noise was?" Zhang asked rhetorically.
"Neal!" Peter called from the start of the alley. "Neal? Damn it, where are you?"
"Your Master is calling you, Dog." Zhang chuckled.
"Do we have a deal or not?" Neal demanded.
"Very well."
Neal reached up to take the device out of his ear so that he could get rid of it. Before he pulled the transmitter out Zhang's voice purred in his ear once more.
"May I give you a word of advice, Mr. Caffrey?"
"Make it quick."
"Before we meet make sure you've picked a side. You need to stop standing on the bridges that you burn or you will find yourself drowning in the middle of the river and no one on either side will be willing to risk themselves to save you..."