Unintended Consequences

DISCLAIMER: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

"Small favor, big reward. It should help pay the bills. Fence it internationally, I don't care. We're going to nail the thieves that shot Grace and kidnapped Peter."

"What do I have to do?"

Chapter 20

Neal made the call from the burner phone asking Frank's associates to meet at the edge of Central Park at noon. He didn't want to be in a throng of people, but he wanted enough foot traffic so that he would be able to disappear if necessary. He also needed whatever method of transportation the thieves were using nearby. Neal expected a limo or something similar; they had such huge egos.

Neal was leaning against a lamp post holding a black tube large enough to hold the rolled up painting when a black Lincoln Town Car pulled up and double parked. Neal shifted so that he was standing tall, and then took a couple confident steps toward the Lincoln. The driver's door opened, and Neal recognized the bodyguard from the coffee shop.

The bodyguard moved a couple steps to open the back door and assisted Peter out of the back of the Lincoln, gripping his upper arm firmly. Neal noticed that Peter's hands were cuffed in front of him and his eyes were bloodshot; probably due to lack of sleep over the past couple days. Neal felt a twinge of guilt for his own decent night's sleep. Despite everything that had happened over the 48 hours, Neal sincerely hoped that Peter would trust him for just a little while longer.

Neal also noticed that the coffee-loving criminal who still remained nameless had gotten out of the other side of the Lincoln and was holding a venti size Starbucks drink. Neal chuckled quietly wondering if there was any blood in the man's system or if it had all been taken over by caffeine. The man took a long sip and finally spoke.

"All you need to do is give me the painting and my friend here will release Agent Burke."

Neal hesitated for a few seconds as if he wasn't sure he wanted to give up the painting in return for Peter. Peter was sure this was an act but almost wished Neal was a little less convincing. What if Neal decided not to hand over his forgery? The tube seemed to be trembling in his hands; maybe Neal had grown really attached to his forgery and didn't want to give it up.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Neal?"

Neal glared at Peter as if he had just asked a really stupid question and retorted sarcastically.

"No, I'm not sure Peter. If you had a multi-million dollar painting and you were a thief, what would you do?"

Peter didn't respond hoping it was meant as a rhetorical question because he wasn't sure he even had a good answer. What would he do? Hearing no immediate response, Neal continued.

"You have no idea how tempting it is to run and desert you as revenge for catching me in the first place."

Peter could sense that Neal was stalling, wasting precious time to distract the thieves from whatever side angle Neal was playing. Peter wasn't sure what Neal was up to, but he just couldn't see Neal actually giving up the real Vermeer painting and letting the thieves walk away. No, there was something more in play here; fortunately, it didn't take long for him to find out.

Neal had taken a few steps closer to Peter, still debating about handing over the painting, when Peter saw a beautiful woman with long brown hair walking along the sidewalk coming up behind Neal and swinging a large purse. She was talking non-stop on her cell phone and wasn't watching where she was walking. Peter recognized her right away, but kept silent as she accidentally walked straight into the bodyguard. Her purse went flying out of her hand; the contents spilling all over the ground. The bodyguard let go of Peter's arm trying to maintain his own balance. Alex looked up horrified and snapped her phone shut, cutting off whoever was on the other end of the line. The venti-sized coffee tilted dangerously in the other thief's hand as he reached out his other hand to grab Peter before he could escape. The bodyguard looked like he was about to draw his gun, when Neal reached out and grabbed Alex's arm.

"You really need to watch where you're walking Miss. These streets can be dangerous."

"Dangerous? The streets aren't dangerous, it's the people just standing in the middle of the sidewalk that are dangerous! He was quite obviously obstructing my path."

"I'm sure he's sorry. At least let me help you pick up your things."

Alex looked alarmed as Neal shifted the tube under his arm and bent down to pick up some of the scattered items from her purse.

"Don't touch my things! Who do you think you are?"

Neal saw an opportunity to send a message to Peter; hoping Peter was alert enough to catch it.

"You know, Miss, as Kong Fu Zi says 'A gentleman would be ashamed should his deeds not match his words.' I'd hate for someone to think that a gentleman such as myself would say something and then not follow through on it. Please, at least let me assist you in gathering your things."

Neal slyly looked over at the thieves still standing there looking at the scene Alex was making like they were in shock. Neal silently hoped Peter had gotten the message to stay calm and let him handle things; that he was going to do whatever it took to make sure Peter was safe. Neal also breathed a quick prayer of thanks as he suddenly realized that Alex had chosen to run into the bodyguard instead of the coffee guy; he really didn't need hot coffee spilled all over him to add to the pleasures of the day. Neal finally looked up and focused a piercing gaze directly at the bodyguard.

"I can't believe you wouldn't even try to help a lady with her things even if she did accidentally run into you. How did your parents raise you anyway?"

Neal didn't wait for an answer, but concentrated on picking up some lipstick and a compact that had fallen out and placed them back in Alex's purse, looking curiously at it.

"How much stuff do you keep in this purse anyway?"

"You never know when you might need something. Life has taught me that, more so than any formal education."

Neal gave a slight chuckle as if he found her comment amusing.

"Locke would probably agree with you. He said 'Education begins the gentleman, but reading, good company and reflection must finish him'."

Alex stuck out her hand to thank him for his help.

"Well, it was certainly nice to meet an educated gentleman such as yourself. I hope that I wasn't too much trouble."

Neal reached out to shake her hand as well. Alex pulled back and closed her hand after feeling a key pressing into her palm. She breathed a sigh of relief that so far Neal had stuck to their bargain; now she just had to get out of here without raising suspicion and collect her prize from the storage locker.

Peter, still amazed at the distraction Neal and Alex were creating, heard a soft click and saw a figure out of the corner of his eye moving away from the opposite side of the Lincoln. He was certain no one else had heard it as the bodyguard and the coffee-loving criminal were still distracted by Neal and Alex. Peter didn't move his head for fear of drawing attention away, but he could have sworn he saw a bald head retreating quickly but quietly. He wondered what the little guy could possibly be doing here, but he already knew it probably wasn't good. He wasn't sure if Neal had planned the distraction to get the bodyguard to let go of him or if it had something to do with the little guy, maybe it was both.

Peter refocused on the scene in front of him as Alex stuffed the last item in her purse. Neal offered her a hand to stand up, as she politely thanked him.

"Have a good day miss. Try to be a bit more careful next time and watch where you're walking."

Alex looked a bit ashamed and flushed slightly. She wasn't sure what Neal had been planning, but she hoped that somehow it helped Peter. He had been nice to her in the past, and getting a copy of Vermeer's The Concert for her troubles was like icing on the cake. She turned to the bodyguard.

"I am sorry, sir, I realize it wasn't entirely your fault. Please accept my apologies."

She offered her hand to shake his, and while his attention was on her right hand, she deftly used her left to slip a different key into his jacket pocket. The Spanish silver from the shipwreck was getting too hot to handle, and she didn't need more Fed's breathing down her neck. She knew Peter knew it was her and this was the perfect opportunity to take the bull's eye off her back. It was time for her to delve into something new. Alex turned around, letting go of the bodyguards hand and walked away as quickly as she had come.

The thief with the coffee raised the cup almost as if to salute Neal for his conduct with the lady, while maintaining his grip on Peter's arm.

"Well, now, if you are the gentleman you say you are, perhaps we can finish this little exchange. You can give me the painting I asked for and I can make good on my word to return Agent Burke to you safe and unharmed."

Neal just smiled.

"Oh, so now you want to be a gentleman? I don't thinking kidnapping people would exactly qualify as a gentlemanly trait, but perhaps I can give you some pointers."

"I don't need your advice. I just want the painting; I thought you were the one that wanted to pick my brain."

"Touche."

The man acknowledged Neal's comment by simply raising his coffee cup and elevating his nose slightly giving off an air of superiority.

"Now…you've stalled long enough…just hand over the painting. I'm beginning to wonder if you even want Agent Burke back. This could be the end of a beautiful partnership."

Neal glared as he took a step forward and then another gripping the tube tightly, as if the whole process was extremely painful for him. Peter really hoped that Neal wasn't overselling it. If either of the thieves caught on this was a con, as Peter was sure it was, he might never get home to Elle or rebuild his relationship with Grace.

It suddenly occurred to Peter that the thug with the coffee might not trust a multi-million dollar painting in the hands of his bodyguard. Unfortunately, with the coffee in one hand and gripping Peter's arm with the other, he didn't have a free hand to take the painting from Neal. Peter knew he'd just have to wait for the opportunity and duck if necessary. He didn't doubt that the bodyguard would use his weapon if something were to happen.

"You know, you really aren't much for small talk are…"

Neal was about to finish with 'you' when he was cut off.

"Freeze, FBI."

Peter looked over at Neal, and was startled to see a look of panic flash quickly in Neal's eyes before disappearing. This was apparently not part of his plan. Peter also noted that the thief stopped mid swallow and almost choked, while the bodyguard moved his hand, ready to draw. However, it seemed to be a lone FBI agent with a gun that had come up behind Neal; maybe there was no need to panic just yet.

"Hands up, Caffrey. Hand over the painting."

Neal didn't turn around; he just put up his hands, not letting go of the black tube.

"Jones, how nice of you to come. I'm so glad you tracked my anklet."

"You won't be when I arrest you for possession of the stolen Vermeer."

Neal just started laughing.