(Chapter 5)

Peter sat in his office staring off into space. Normally he was pretty good about working on things, keeping busy but he had grown used to Neal's presence. He kept looking up from his work expecting Neal to pop in and say something to annoy him. Better yet, walk into his office and find the young man behind his desk with his feet up, folding more of his origami figures. Peter sighed, looking at the same page of the case file for the tenth time in over an hour.

"Hey boss…" Peter looked up to see Jones speaking from the open door. He waved his subordinate in and gave what little smile he could. Jones nodded a greeting, closing the door behind him.

"Hughes is talking to Gordon next door. They still haven't found anything showing where those agents took Caffrey. It's like he vanished off the Earth and yet signs of him are at every theft. It's a strange enigma." Peter muttered to himself more than Jones, the young agent nodding again.

"Peter, we'll find him. It's only a matter of time before they screw up. The last job where the guard was shot was sloppy. It was nothing like the case files you've showed me about Caffrey's heists much less my experiences with him. Something doesn't sit right here." Jones sounded like he was trying to dig something out of the mess of robberies and thefts they were investigating, Peter sure that they could figure out a plan if not a pattern.

"Puzzle boxes… the music box had something in it. I wonder if it's related to these other items. They're all separated by culture but are related in that they are all made out of earth bound materials. Precious stones, things that are rare and valuable. Something equally as valuable must be within or why all the heists?" Peter pushed the case file he'd been reading aside and started to type something out on his PC. Jones moved around to stare over his shoulder.

"The first box was made of ivory, a type that was hundreds of years old and only found in the most ancient of elephant burial grounds. It was originally made for a tribal chief and held his ashes and some small holy relics." Peter was viewing the information, a website showing an image of the box. It was an oblong box about 6 inches long and 4 wide, with wooden and gold inlay. The box by itself was worth a small fortune but whatever was inside he could only guess at.

"The box was on display in a temporary spot at The Museum for African Art on Broadway. It was under lock and key but someone managed to walk off with it. This was before they pulled Neal into the act so that gave them their first acquisition." Peter typed a bit more and brought up the next website.

"The second item was a beautiful but rare Faberge trinket box. One of the few made that wasn't an egg. It did have a stand on it for an egg but inside was supposed to be some sort of fabled secret hidden by the designer. Nobody had ever opened it to see because it required destroying a part of the object itself to get to it thereby insuring the item would never be opened. I can only assume this is what they wanted the box for." Peter zoomed in on an image of a small round box no wider than a silver dollar at best. It was ornate with a number of traditional Ukrainian Pysanky designs across the side and top, all of it encrusted with what appeared to be semi-precious gems and jewels in a yellow, red and green hues.

"It was found missing by the curator for the Ukrainian Museum when they were about to pull it out of storage for an exhibit during March. They contacted the authorities but found no trace of who may have stolen it or why." He pulled up another website as he finished talking, this one pointing to the Asian Arts Museum.

"The latest item where the guard was hurt, this was a jade box of red and green stone. It's shaped like a traditional Chinese dragon wrapped around a temple shaped box. The size is something like 5 x 4 x 3 inches. It's a particularly delicate piece with some rubies for the dragon's eyes and tiger's eye for it's claws and scales. It's said to be from the first dynasty of China when the first emperor was named." He paused looking at the picture of the item turning to Jones.

"I have no clue what's hidden in it. The box itself is valuable without anything being inside… all of these items are." He sighed in frustration, closing the window. Someone passed by the window and he turned to look.

"So that's what, four boxes if we include the amber music box? All created of natural stones. Maybe they point to something else?" Jones' voice sort of disappeared into the background as Peter glanced out at Hughes and his colleague. The man's back was to him but he knew he'd seen the man somewhere before. He needed to remember where.

"Peter… Peter!" Jones was trying to get his attention. Peter turned and nodded.

"I'm sorry. Got distracted for a moment." He turned back to the window and saw the man with Hughes turn so he could see his face. He strained to think where he'd seen the man but…

A flash of memory suddenly hit him as he remembered walking into the morgue at the hospital. He had seen Agent Gordon entering. Neal's body had been there and then…

Peter was still staring when the man turned and met eyes with him, blinking as if surprised. He turned his glance quickly back to Hughes and then left the building as if he were late for a meeting. Peter watched the scene in fascination. Hughes saw Peter and Jones in the office and knocked, opening up the door.

"Gordon says they still have no hints as to where Caffrey was taken. He's got some of his best men on it. Speaking of which, Burke, you should work with Gordon. You've made good in catching Caffrey in the past. Your expertise may prove valuable. I'm reassigning you to this case." Hughes was smiling although he always looked a bit scary when he did. Peter nodded, Jones doing the same.

"Ok then. You'll report here and wait for him in the lobby tomorrow morning." Peter stood and nodded again.

"Yes sir. Thank you." Peter watched his boss nod and walk back to his office, Jones looking at his superior curiously.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Peter. What's up?" He stood and stretched a bit, stifling a yawn as Peter grabbed up his jacket.

"Nothing yet but you might be right about the ghost bit."

()()()

Neal felt a hand over his face, strong arms holding him down against the gurney. He struggled against them as he slowly roused from sleep. Thomas was the one holding a hand over his mouth, partially squeezing his nostrils shut as some of the other men including Jared held him down securely

"Looks like we're moving to a new location, Caffrey. Swab his neck, Jared." Neal fought but there were too many of them. Neal saw Jared push a cotton ball to his neck and swab it, the cool sting of the alcohol as well as its scent evident. Jared tapped at a syringe, moving it closer to his neck.

No! He thought, fighting to escape but he was still too weak to do much against all four of the agents. He felt the sting against his skin as the needle poke through and the area slowly spread warmth through out his body. He kept struggling till his motions became less obvious and he felt his limbs go numb.

"Don't worry, we'll wake you up in time for the heist." Thomas' voice was cold. Neal felt a flame rise in him despite the drug, a flicker of fire that would grow when the time was right.

()()()

Neal was dreaming. He was standing across the street looking at June's. He looked both ways and ran towards her mansion, walking around the corner till he found the entrance. He knocked on the door but nobody answered. He reached inside his pocket for the key but it was missing. He searched everywhere till finally he realized he was already inside.

He blinked, unsure what was going on but he found the door locked again and he walked down the small hallway into the foyer and looked around the room with happy familiarity. He looked around but he didn't see June anywhere. He noticed the stairs and found his favorite fedora sitting on the banister. He reached to pick it up when he heard voices coming from upstairs. Slowly he started up the stairs, listening as the voices grew nearer and more obvious.

"I'm sorry Mozzie. I don't think I can come up here anymore. I just… It's not the same without him here." It was June's voice. He smiled reaching to knock on the door and surprise them till he heard Mozzie pipe in.

"It's your home June. You should enjoy it but I know what you mean. It just feels empty without him here." He heard Mozzie sigh, pushing the door open to see what they were up to.

June was closing the terrace doors, locking them up and pulling a curtain across them. She looked somewhat sad, her usual smile forced. Mozzie stood beside her, taking her arm in his as they headed back towards the door. Neal smiled at them but they walked right past him as if he wasn't there.

"It's like I've lost Byron all over again." She sniffled, her head bowed slightly as he saw Mozzie hand her a handkerchief.

"It's ok, June. Peter will find him. I'm sure of it." He heard a strange trust in Mozzie's voice for the Agent he'd never heard before. Would his friend ever truly trust that Peter was on the level? The thought hit him hard before another one took its place. Peter.

Peter found him in no time before he was jailed and when he escaped. He wondered why his friend seemed to be missing all the clues unless Gordon had changed the rules. He wouldn't doubt it but Peter normally saw through most deceptions. Why not this one?

Neal gave a little sigh, walking across the now empty, dimly lit rooms he once occupied. It really seemed he was here, his hand pushing aside the curtains and opening up the French doors to the terrace. He stepped out and crossed the Spanish tiled surface to the edge and looked out at the city. It was nearly sundown, the city bathed in a lovely golden glow of early evening.

"Neal?" He turned at the sound of a familiar voice. A figure stood inside the apartment bathed in shadow.

"Peter?" He started to walk towards his friend when the doors shut, blocking him. He saw the curtains close again as he pulled on the door.

"Neal, where are you?" He heard Peter's voice calling to him but he didn't seem to see him outside. Neal banged on the doors.

"Peter I'm right here!" He kept banging on the doors till he found himself coming to.

()()()

"Peter…" his voice muttered quietly as he woke up in the back of the black van. Thomas sat near him smiling in his cold manner.

"Missing your keeper? How sweet." Neal glared at the man, trying to sit up and punch the agent but feeling his arms bound behind him. He struggled to sit up, his eyes narrowing at the man.

"Say that to me when I'm untied, you coward!" Neal's voice was full of venom he didn't normally feel but this man was pissing him off. Thomas made a mock expression of fear.

"Did I actually get a rise out of Mr. CONgeniality?" Thomas pressed him back to the floor, arm pushed against his adam's apple tightly as Neal tried to sit back up.

"You're nothing but a two-bit con. Don't think I'm afraid of your threats!" Thomas grinned as Neal's face turned pink then a darker shade of red before he let go and backed off. Neal caught his breath and scowled at the man, coughing and wheezing.

"Cow… ward." Neal coughed, his blue eyes narrowing. Thomas just laughed, turning his attention to one of the other agents talking on a cell.

"Ok. Yes sir. Bye." The agent turned and looked at the rest of them, including Neal.

"Gordon says the next target will be sent to us tomorrow." He saw nods of consent from all but Neal who lay half sitting, against the side of the van. The man's eyes narrowed a bit looking at the con but then he pushed his cell back to his ear, having dialed another number. He turned his head and ducked, keeping the call as private as he could.

Neal curled up against the wall and tried to get comfy despite being bound. They hadn't tied him as securely as usual, Neal feeling the cord loosen ever so slightly as he unhinged his fingers and managed to pull a hand free. He kept his arms behind him hoping nobody would notice and so far they hadn't. All the agents had their guns in their holsters, all treating him like he was something to be ignored. That could be useful.

He felt the van stop and everyone started to pile out except for Thomas who scooted over and started to reach for Neal.

"Come on! Gordon doesn't want us to make him wait." Thomas pulled at Neal's hair, yanking his head back but Neal was ready for the man. He twisted himself round, pinning the agent's arms behind him and managed get him flat on his back. With his free hand he had grabbed the gun and pushed it against the man's temple.

"I told you to wait till I was untied, you coward!" Neal's voice hissed dangerously as he cocked the gun back, Thomas' brown eyes widening with sudden fear. He was trying to move but Neal held him securely.

"Caffrey, let him go!" He turned to see Jared looking at him along with the other agents, all of them surprised at the sight of the usually benign con suddenly in the role of aggressor. He growled at them.

"This is between me and him!" Neal didn't know why but he felt somewhat free. There was a part of him that was enjoying this little exercise in role reversal. He wasn't usually violent but after the nearly month or more he'd been trapped with these men, this felt like a release of all his pent up fears and anger.

Neal felt his finger tightening on the trigger as he pushed the gun closer to the agent's temples.

"How does it feel to be on the other end of the stick, Thomas? Didn't think I'd fight back?" Neal felt his finger pull the trigger back a little further when he heard another voice.

"Caffrey! I think you've made your point. Let him go!" He didn't stop at first but then something clicked in his head and he saw the gun and what he was doing and felt sick. Neal pulled away, dropping the gun on the floor of the van as he scooted back and out of the vehicle. He didn't even check to see what Thomas did, finding a nearby bush and throwing up behind it.

"Thomas, I told you to leave him alone. We can't afford any delays!"

()()()

Neal was given a regular room in the new compound although it was still locked from the outside and contained no windows. The vents were too small for him to crawl through so that wasn't an option if he had thought of it. He had become resigned to his fate to save his friends. Neal found clean clothes in the small wardrobe along with some pajama pants. He lay out some clean clothes, went into the small bathroom and took his first real shower in a while. The water was hot and burned at his skin but it felt nice.

Fifteen minutes later he was out and dressed in the pajamas. He felt so much more alive suddenly. He found some safety razors and managed to shave, something he hadn't really been able to do. He slicked back his now clean hair and lay on the small twin bed in the room. He had found some stationary paper in a drawer of a small desk and began cutting it into squares. Neal folded a small piece of something till the final product was done and he decorated it with a pencil he found.

It was a small thing, looked like a man wearing a suit, the tie a bit crooked but it was all he could do to represent Peter. He sat it on the nightstand and stared at the little origami man, slipping into a more relaxed sleep.

"Wake up!" Someone nudged him, pushing at him till he woke up. Neal wondered who when he saw Thomas standing there. He was about to speak when the man held up a hand.

"Don't… I… I wanted to apologize. Here." He pushed a rolled up newspaper into the con's hand looking around cautiously before he left the room. Neal didn't know what just happened, curious at the man's behavior but also annoyed at him barging in like that. Neal was about to toss the paper aside when he noticed the date. He unrolled the item, pushing off the rubber band.

He noticed it was one section of the paper from about a month or so back. It was the Locals. He hadn't seen a newspaper in over a month so it was nice to finally find out what was going on. Gordon and the agents had kept him locked up and in the dark except for the heists. He noticed a small blurb in the paper about one of June's clubs having a small soiree. He smiled reading about the success of it. There was even a picture of some of the committee members, June among them. He gently cut at the paper, removing the article to keep for his own when he saw something through the gap.

Neal turned the page to the item in question and started to read something, lips moving in silent dictation, small drops of water hitting the paper as he read it.

"Peter Burke (1967 - 2010) : Agent Peter Burke died while in the line of duty. He spent his life helping others while working in the FBI. He is survived by his wife Elizabeth Shannon Burke, his brother Walter, sister Jenna and parents, David and Helen Burke. A memorial service was held at Meadow Park Funeral Home."

Neal reread the obituary till the paper was nearly soaked through around it.

Peter was dead? But… Gordon…

"Just remember, I spared your friend or he would be dead now. Don't make me change my mind."

Neal shuddered, his emotions getting away with him. At first he was in mourning, crying and trying to hold it all in. He felt remorse and suddenly understood why nobody had come for him. Peter was the only one who could ever find him and he was gone. Slowly it sunk through what had happened as he felt bitterness, realizing that Gordon had lied to him.

He could have left at any time during the heists, nothing holding him back but the idea he was helping his friends. It had all been a lie. Peter was dead and gone. Nothing kept him here. He had no reason to suffer if the person he had been protecting was gone.

Anger filled him, his memory thinking of a story he'd heard once. It had been about how they caught wild elephants as calves and trained them to be obedient. They would chain the elephant and keep it isolated till the elephant became so far gone with hopelessness they could tied it with nothing more than a small rope and the elephant, fully capable of breaking the rope wouldn't due to it's fear and anxiety. That's what Gordon had done to Neal. He had broken his spirit. He had killed his only hope.

Neal felt his eyes narrow as he thought about the time he'd lost and how he could have been back with Elizabeth comforting her. He wondered how she was coping without Peter there. Neal could only imagine her heartbreak, guilt threatening to overwhelm him.

Why did Thomas give him this? What was the purpose? He had to find out. Neal cursed silently, looking at the little origami figure he'd made and crushing it. It was a lie. It was all a lie!