Let's go back in time to establish a bit of clarity...
*** Early afternoon, somewhere in Queens ***
Curtis Hagen has reached the agreed meeting place early. The old factory has been out of use for almost a decade. It was completely deserted, just like all the other buildings around. Some stray cats have been his only company so far.
The criminal has been quite pleased with the run of the events so far. Caffrey had stolen all the items Crawick had requested. Today, Hagen would hand over three extremely valuable gem stones. This was the final delivery. Afterwards, Crawick would resource him with pots of money and, better yet, a perfect, brand-new identity issued by the FBI.
There would be no more need to disappear like his namesake, The Dutchman, every once in a while. He could travel around the world without being chased, enjoying the comforts of life.
The pleasant fact that Crawick had promised to frame Peter Burke, making sure the cunning agent would spend many years in prison, was a more than welcome bonus.
Hagen had no idea why Crawick needed all these stolen goods, but then again, he didn't care either. As long as the prize was right, he didn't ask unnecessary questions. For now, leaning against the wall of the run-down factory he soaked up the sun with a broad smile plastered on this face.
Crawick turned up at 3 pm sharp, obviously ill-humored, "Why have you summoned me to this deserted place at such short notice? We're running out of time. There is still one last job pending."
The criminal looked like a cat that swallowed the canary. "It's already done. I've lifted your gems earlier today. Caffrey will be surprised when he welds open the safe. Furthermore, I've blocked his escape route. All you have to do is lie in waiting and cuff him. He's all yours, just like a sitting duck. Remember, you told me you plan to take him off the game. So, I guess it's payday."
The FBI agent shook his hand in disbelief staring in turns at the gem stones the other man presented him proudly and the smug face.
He was far from pleased, but managed to control his feelings. "If I don't catch him having the stolen goods about him, that's not enough to put him away for good. I'll need to adjust my plans accordingly. Wait a second!"
Crawick went back to his car, put on some disposable gloves taking a bag out of the center console.
Hagen appreciated how cautiously the Federal agent acted. Understandably, his partner in crime didn't want to leave fingerprints on the money and passport. He preferred working with pros because of this forward looking planning.
After checking that no-one else was to be seen, Crawick opened the bag producing a gun. "Sorry, that wasn't the plan. But now, you've changed the general set-up, and on second thoughts, this is going to be even better than the original plan."
He shot the other man from a short distance right between the eyes without a moment's hesitation killing him outright.
The agent picked up the gems from the ground and returned the weapon into the bag. He left the scene without even looking back to the corpse on the ground.
*** Later on in Manhattan, inside the auction house, around the same time chapter 4 is ending ... ***
"FBI. Drop your weapons and come out."
"Neal, no reason to panic! Technically, we're just in the staff quarters. You haven't stolen the gem stones. I'm here with you to back you up. Seigel can't arrest you. We'll just go out there to sort things out. Let's do it the right way. We're not Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid confronting the Bolivian Army. I'm the ASAC accompanied by my consultant, out there is the FBI. There's no need to worry."
Seigel entered the hallway. He was on his own without another agent backing him up. He had asked the other agents to stay behind. As Caffrey's handler he wanted to persuade him to surrender, but that won't work with any bystanders.
Burke addressed him with caution. "David, we need to talk. This is not ..."
"Caffrey, lower your gun!" Seigel shouted loud enough so the FBI team waiting outside heard him.
Peter was annoyed about the theatrics. "He doesn't even carry a gun. Cut the crap!"
David Seigel had expected to find his consultant alone. Therefore, he was caught off guard needing a moment to adapt to the new conditions.
He had planned to kill Caffrey and take care of Burke later on. So far, he hadn't plotted the ASAC's death, just sending him to prison for an awful long time. But this was better still! He could kill two birds with one stone.
However, he had to make up his mind whom to shoot first...
If he'd aim for Caffrey first, there was a risk that Burke would draw his gun in defense. Then, he would have to act real fast to shoot both men.
On the other hand, if he'd fire at Burke first, he had to change guns beforehand. He couldn't shoot him with his duty weapon. Instead, he intended to reuse the gun that knocked off Hagen. The very gun he was going to plant in Caffrey's hand to get his fingerprints on the butt. Changing guns would take time. Time the other agent could use to draw his own weapon.
Fortunately, he won't have to put on the gloves first. His own fingerprints on the weapon shouldn't raise a problem. Understandably, he would have tried to wrench it from the culprit. Therefore, his prints would be on it.
Seigel weighed the pros and cons, which was a difficult task being pressed for time. That stupid mobile phone, ringing all the time, wasn't helping on. He was relieved when it finally went silent.
*** Same time, outside of the building ***
Jones was sitting in the van across the street. He led the second observation team and waited for the signal to go in. When Diana called him, he answered right away.
Without taking time for pleasantries, she came straight to the point "Jones! Is Peter with you? I called him, several times, but so far I haven't reached him. I need get hold of him, asap. It's important."
The agent was confused. "Peter, no why should he be here? We're at a stakeout in Upper East Side. There's a heist under way in an auction house. Unfortunately, Neal might be involved. David leads the operation. Right now, he went in alone to talk Caffrey out of it. Neal seems to have this effect on his handlers, winning them over with his flashing smile... Anyhow, Seigel wants to minimize the damage."
"No, no, I don't think so. He's probably there to finish Neil off! That's what I need to tell Peter. Senator Pratt was David's mentor, funded his education and smoothed his way into the FBI. Seigel has applied for the White Collar division in New York the week after Pratt was killed."
"Holy crap! How's Peter involved?"
Agent Barrigan reported the results of the research she had done upon Burke's request, concluding with the information about their boss who has left to protect Neal.
Jones had no idea about Seigel's actual plans, but without a shadow of doubt they were no good. Therefore, he and his team geared up to go in.
At the sound of gunshots, he stopped strapping the bullet-proof vest and hurried with his team out of the van towards the entrance.
Seigel has made up his mind. Killing Burke first, taking care of Caffrey afterwards was the action plan. After all, Burke was a trained agent. The most promising strategy was to get him out of the way right at the outset.
Furthermore, if the FBI team stormed in before he was done, he would claim that it had been Neal who had shot the agent. His words against those of a convicted criminal caught red-handed. It was a safe bet whom the feds and jury would believe...
Burke kept a wary eye on his opponent. He knew already about Seigel's connection to the Dutchman and assumed bad intentions. On top of this, there was a certain glint of madness in David's gaze which was utterly disturbing.
Seigel aimed for the heart, cocked the gun and pulled the trigger in a swift movement. The bullet hit Peter full force sweeping him off his feet crashing onto the marble floor with a thud.
Neal was stupefied with horror. "You're crazy. Why did you do this?"
He rushed towards his friend, checking for vital signs. In a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, he pressed his hands on the wound. Burke seemed not to be fatally injured, but was about to regain consciousness.
Seigel hasn't noticed that the ASAC was still alive and sneered at the CI leveling the gun. "Your father has killed mine. Agent Burke has assisted him. Now it's time to compensate my loss."
The information made no sense. Caffrey was confused. "My father? I have no clue what you're talking about."
The agent was annoyed at the lack of understanding the consultant had just demonstrated. "Your father, James Bennett, has killed my father, Senator Terence Pratt. Irony of fate, my father has never been able to acknowledge me officially as his child. Although, he took his role as father seriously.
Whereas your dad is officially listed as your father, but apart from his appearance in your birth certificate he wasn't really around in your life. Now I'm here with a gun to make things even."
He drew his weapon from the shoulder holster without further warnings, aimed and fired shot after shot until no bullet was left in the clip.
Evidently, Seigel was more than pleased. "I call it retributive justice. The victim's son kills the murderer's son."
He wasn't done yet admiring his work when Jones together with five agents stormed in. "Drop your gun, Seigel! Surrender yourself!"
Years of professional training helped Seigel to reload his weapons within seconds. "You must be kidding! Caffrey killed the ASAC. I've just tried to stop him."
Meanwhile, Peter has recovered consciousness. Now, he struggled to his feet. With Neal sprawled all over him, this proved to be difficult. His voice was shaky and hoarse. "He's lying. He killed him in cold blood."
Irritated by the interjection and surprised that the agent was still alive Seigel pointed his gun to finish the job.
Before he could pull the trigger, 6 agents fired at him. While passing out, he was wondering if this was how his father had felt when he had been killed. Like father like son were his very last thoughts.
Burke conquered his faintness beginning to revive the consultant whose blue eyes were blank and wide open.
He was on autopilot, rendering first aid. He remembered El reading to him a news article over breakfast about some studies. They claimed it helped to time a cardiac massage singing along to a pop tune. Another one bites the dust...
He was oblivious to the turmoil around him, just concentrating on the task at hand.
Neal felt light and strange. As if he were standing on the sidelines, audience to his own reality TV show. Peter was singing flat. Another one bites the dust. Embarrassing, very embarrassing. Agent Delany opened his airway by lifting the chin, carefully keeping head and neck aligned. Jones called the ambulance. Agent Peterson stating that Seigel was far beyond rescue.
He noticed the pool of blood beneath him, his blood. Red wasn't his color, even orange looked better on him.
No pain. No fear. No worries. He realized this was a near death experience. Shouldn't there be a time-lapse playback of his life? His father leaving him as a three year old kid, Ellen raising him, his first con, Kate dying, all those important moments in his life? Or at least a bright light or a white door?
He was ready to go. Where was this frigging door he had to cross to see the light? He could pick every door lock. They wouldn't be able to keep him out. He was so tired of this struggle and failure and disappointment some people called life.
If only Peter would stop nagging. The only thing Neal could think of was his former handler and friend.
I still own you for the next two years. Forget it! He was so sick of being FBI property.
I won't allow you die on me. Let me put it this way: There is but one god. According to the Bible, his name wasn't Peter Burke. Or her's, while we're at it. If he was meant to die, no FBI agent had the power to forbid it.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Damn it. That agent would never leave him be. Never mind! He would con the man in the cheap suit pretending to be breathing. What a scam, Peter would never be able to tell he got tricked. It couldn't be so difficult to will his heart to beat, and his lungs to inhale. Neal congratulated himself on being such a mastermind.
The first shallow breath he drew brought back the pain but also the will to survive.
Author's note:
Sorry if I have confused you! Allthough, I have to admit I did it on purpose. I felt a bit bored by my own story :-)
Ridiculously enough, I thought in the beginning this would be a 2 or 3 chapter story. Now, I publish chapter 6 and it's even not the final one. Dear readers, thanks for keeping up.
Good news it, the last chapter will be the final one, and it's already written. At the moment, it's under review.