(Chapter 2)

Peter stood, vision blurring in and out of focus by a large pillar in the subway tunnel. Hagen had lead him back up the tunnel to a nearby and apparently empty terminal. They had climbed back up to the main floor off the track and Hagen stayed hidden behind the pillar with Peter awaiting Neal Caffrey. The agent could still feel the throbbing of his head where the man had hit him. He felt nauseated and wanted to throw up but he was forced to stay upright and ready for his friend.

Peter wavered slightly where he stood until he felt a slight push with the gun and a quiet hiss. Hagen was waving the gun at him so Peter perked up long enough to realize there were footsteps coming closer as a train passed without stopping. He saw a blurry figure approaching and just by the profile he knew it had to be Neal. Hagen hissed at him again so he called out as he noticed the figure looking down at their watch.

"Neal..." He could hear his voice echo slightly off the cement walls of the subway tunnel. He saw Neal perk up and look his way. The young man looked surprised he thought but he was only able to read the young man's body language, his eyes still not focused enough to catch anything more subtle.

"Peter? Everything ok?" Neal's voice sounded worried. Maybe the young man was picking up on something. He shrugged weakly, feeling faint but knowing he had to continue the charade. He watched Neal start to walk towards him but Hagen was hissing at him just out of earshot, so Peter held up a hand. The con stopped abruptly, Peter's eyes focusing enough to see a confused look on his friend's face. It became more puzzled once Peter heard Hagen walk out behind him, gun pressed into his back. Neal seemed to be putting two and two together and figured out what was going on.

"Hello, Mister Caffrey. Glad you could make it to this little rendezvous. Your "friend" here was kind enough to lead me straight to you." Hagen's tone was dark and unforgiving, more so maybe because of his accent. Peter was vaguely aware that Neal looked nervous though the young man tried hard to hide it behind a veneer of suavity.

"Curtis Hagen. How's the art forgery business going?" Neal tried to appear unperturbed by the situation but it had to be hard Peter thought under the circumstances. He felt the gun pressed into the back of his neck as Hagen chuckled lightly.

"Not so good since I was arrested but now I'm out and well... I thought you might be able to pay back the debt you owe me. I lost quite a bit of "face" with your little "visit." If you choose to help a fellow art forger out, I might not kill your "friend" here." Peter felt Hagen wrap an arm around him, pinning his arms to his sides and holding the cold metal of the pistol under his chin. Peter swallowed hard, seeing Neal nod slowly, hands up as a stiff smile formed on his lips.

"Hagen, what do you want?" He noticed that Neal kept his tone low and cautious. His partner was obviously not taking any chances on antagonizing Hagen.

"For one, I'd like to have the Spanish Victory Bond again. I know you can get it for me." Hagen continued to hold the gun under Peter's chin dangerously. Peter barely breathed, afraid to move. He watched Neal blink at the man's words, then after a moment he nodded reluctantly.

"Ok. Anything else?" Neal was afraid. Peter could sense the young man's dread at the situation although he hid it well.

"That would be it for now." Peter heard Hagen's voice answer from behind, the gun waved in front of his face at Neal dismissively. The motion was making him ill under the circumstances, his nausea returning.

"Get along. You have three hours to get this done or I shoot your "friend" and I don't think his wife would take kindly to that." Hagen clucked his tongue condescendingly, Peter noticing Neal stiffen though he made no motion or sound. Finally, Neal nodded tersely to Hagen, giving Peter a "hold on" look as he turned to exit the terminal. The agent felt fear wash over him along with a sudden wave of nausea. He wanted to go with Neal but he was still held at gun point by Hagen. Neal's footsteps echoed off into silence leaving the Fed with his captor. Hagen spun the man around, gun held up to his face.

"It's a good thing Caffrey likes you. Cons like him don't always care about their partners." Peter felt his eyes crossing as the gun waved before his face. He turned, falling to his knees at the edge of the waiting area and started to throw up over the side onto the tracks. Peter continued to throw up for several minutes before nothing but clear liquid came out and he collapsed to the ground in a heap. He felt Hagen nudge at him with a foot and looked up through bleary eyes.

"Feeling queasy are we? No worries." Peter saw Hagen pull something out of his pocket, crouch beside him and drape it over his face. He smelled something sweet, pushing weakly at the ground to roll away but he had no more strength. The chloroform filled his nostrils and in seconds he felt the world spinning dizzily away from him into the darkness.

()()()

Neal felt sick as he left the terminal, each step feeling like one more chance his friend could end up dead but he had to leave. He had exactly three hours from now to go to the National Archives and steal the Victory Bond to save Peter's life. Neal wasn't sure how much he could believe Hagen. The man was obviously deranged but he had to do what he said for Peter's sake. He sighed, climbing that last step to daylight when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him aside with a jerk. Neal turned about to say something when he saw who it was.

"Jones? What's..." Neal sounded confused. The agent pushed a finger to his lips and pulled him out of range of the stairs. That's when Neal saw them. There were several agents all masquerading as pedestrians, morning commuters and various other every day people. He hadn't noticed any of them when he had walked in but now...

"Caffrey, did you see Burke?" Jones whispered to him, his face worried. Neal was still stunned by the agent's presence but he nodded.

"He's down there but he's being held captive by Curtis Hagen. I think you remember the Dutchman Peter was chasing when I was let out of jail?" Neal started to relax a bit now that he didn't have to do this alone but he was still on a time table. Jones nodded to the consultant, motioning for a few of the agents to come closer.

"It looks like we're just dealing with the one guy. We can probably take him. Just wish the ear piece had stayed. Only reason why that subway tunnel was empty this time of day was we got the location early." Jones had his gun ready as did the other agents but Neal held up his hands.

"No, you can't just go in there like this! Hagen has a demand and I have three hours to get him something or Peter's going to be hurt. I don't want to take the chance Hagen's serious." Neal made as if he was going to walk off but Jones blocked him.

"Neal, what is it that Hagen wants. We'll get it for you. Hughes will approve it I'm sure." Jones seemed more than serious but Neal wasn't sure how to respond. Finally he nodded.

"He wants the Spanish Victory Bond. I don't know why but that's what he requested and I have less than three hours now to get it. I need to go!" Neal was getting antsy but Jones continued to hold him back, pulling out his cell and calling someone.

"It's Jones. Caffrey's here and he saw Burke. Curtis Hagen is the one who's holding our man." Jones nodded into the phone a few times then spoke again.

"Yes sir. He was asking for Caffrey to steal back the Spanish Victory Bond and bring it to him in exchange for Agent Burke. Yes sir... Yes sir... Ok." Jones hung up the phone as Neal watched the agent smile at him.

"You're getting your ransom, Caffrey. Should be here shortly." Jones continued to smile, motioning for agents to move back to their posts and pulling Neal off to the side. Neal blinked unsure of what to say.

"So Hughes approved it, just like that? I... I can't think what to say." Neal sat down on a nearby bench and tried to relax despite everything. Hughes had approved the ransom so that was good news. He wondered if Hagen would believe him having the real bond in so little time. He hadn't been told NOT to tell anyone about the incident so technically the FBI knowing wasn't bad. He mulled it over when something else occurred to him.

"How long have you known what was going on?" He looked up at Jones who finally sat down beside him after barking orders to people over their walkie-talkies.

"It was purely accidental. We had a stakeout, Peter left and forgot to take his ear piece off. I could hear him walking and was going to tell him to remove it when Hagen nabbed him. Up till a few hours ago, we had full audio but then something happened so the piece was either found by Hagen or it fell out. We're not sure but we've been blind for a little bit. We knew he was going to contact you though and Hughes thought it would be best if you didn't know ahead of time so it was more natural when you showed up." He shrugged helplessly, Neal looking a bit angry but not at the agent. Hughes should have let him know and he would have been more prepared to help his friend. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I guess Hughes had his reasons but I wish I could have been told ahead of time. I'd have like to have felt I wasn't alone in this. I guess better late than never." His voice sounded bitter but he couldn't do anything now other than wait for the ransom to show and then wait a while longer before he ran down again and handed the item to Hagen and hopefully freed Peter. Jones patted him gently on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but it was Hughes' call. And you'll need this." Jones pulled a small hearing aid looking thing out of his pocket and handed it to Neal. The con looked at it and pushed it into his ear. He winced at some sudden feedback then nodded as he could hear Jones and the rest of the crew in the device.

"Two-way, I'm guessing?" Jones nodded at his query. Neal pulled a bit of his hair over the ear to hide it then sat back again, face still looking rather bitter and worried. He looked at the stairs not too far from him. Those steps were the stairs to whatever Hell Peter was experiencing. He wanted to run down and trade places with the agent and send him back home. He wondered if El knew what was going on but by the sounds of it, Hughes was doing this operation on a need to know basis.

()()()

About an hour or so had passed and Neal still had enough time to get down and look like he had spent his time stealing the bond for Hagen. It had arrived in a courier's tube. Neal had felt the need to open up the item to examine it but Hughes had insisted they leave it as is till the time came to give it to Hagen. Against his better judgment, Neal listened to the older agent. He didn't open the tube but he fiddled with it's lid nervously, Jones watching him with a worried glance.

He had 45 more minutes so Neal stood and walked around the corner. Everyone was ready, last minute sound checks had occurred and they knew he was in communications with them. Neal slung the tube over his shoulder by the strap and started down the steps, the clock ticking away in his mind.

()()()

Peter woke up groggy, someone slapping his face. It was Hagen. The agent still couldn't see well, vision blurring in and out of focus again. His head not only ached now from the crack at the base of his skull but from the after effects of the chloroform. Peter was still gagged, tape pulled tightly over his lips and he was sitting at the foot of a bench, arms up and behind him, cuffed to the armrest. He slumped back against the seat, eyes closing but Hagen slapped him again, keeping him semi-alert.

"Caffrey should be back soon. I want you to be awake if you know what's good for you." Peter glanced up at the man, nodding slightly, the motion making him dizzy if not nauseated again. He swallowed back the feeling and tried to keep himself upright. After a while, he heard footsteps echoing off the tunnel walls again and a figure came into view in the distance. He could just make out the shape of someone familiar.

"Ah, you've returned and with time to spare. Your friend and I appreciate your punctuality." Hagen sounded more smug than usual, waving the gun around dangerously. Neal stopped about half way and looked down at Peter on the floor and then back up at his captor.

"I have what you asked for. Free him and I'll hand it to you." Neal pointed at Peter, tube hanging from his hand. He heard Hagen laugh, the man crouching down to point the gun at the agent's head.

"You aren't the one giving the orders. I am! Now, we're going to do things like this..." Hagen's voice trailed off as he held out his free hand.

"Walk over slowly, hand me the tube and then walk away." Maybe it was the European accent but Neal stiffened at being told what to do, still he had to be obedient for Peter's sake. He heard the gun cocked when he didn't move right away, the mouth of the pistol still pointed at the back of Peter's skull. Neal made his way slowly forward till Peter was at his feet and Hagen had grabbed hold of the tube where he sat.

Once the tube was out of his hands, Neal started to back away slowly as instructed. Hagen looked up at him, that smug grin on his face, gun still pushed against the back of Peter's skull. Neal continued to step away when he saw the gun move up in a flash, and he heard a report echo loudly throughout the tunnel.

Neal looked at Peter worriedly but his friend was fine. There was no blood and the agent looked wide-eyed at the young man, tears rolling down his cheeks. Neal was confused for a moment before he saw the gun pointed directly at himself. Neal glanced down at his chest and saw a red stain growing larger as he stumbled back away from them. He felt nothing, his mind blank as his legs collapsed beneath him and he tripped, landing on his butt. His hand touched the stain, only the slightest burning sensation coming through as realization hit. He slumped back against the cool cement of the subway terminal floor and found himself staring up at the ceiling. Maybe it was appropriate or maybe not but some semi-cognizant tagger had written the following phrase upon one of the arches overhead:

*Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate.

Neal found himself smiling for some odd reason at that phrase before his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

(*all hope abandon, ye who enter here)