Ch3

"Where the hell is Neal?" Peter demanded barging into June's house. Mozzie and June were sitting in the living room sipping tea.

"Peter," Mozzie said, "is everything all right?"

Peter sighed. He had really grown fond of the conman's first man. "Save it Mozzie, the team just found Neal's tracker abandoned a mile out of bounds. Where is he?" Peter couldn't keep the anger and frustration out of his voice.

Mozzie suddenly stood. "He wasn't at work with you?"

Peter stared. "No," He said irritated. "That would be why I am here in the first place, if he were at work with me I wouldn't be here!"

Peter could see Mozzie's brain thinking. "Neal isn't alright?" Came June's voice.

"It appears not," Peter replied.

"It doesn't really add up Peter," Mozzie said, "I mean, you remember the first time he got the tracker off? He saw exactly how they did it without triggering it. And if I'm not mistaking, I'm pretty sure he was paying attention."
"Maybe he screwed it up and triggered it on accident,"

"I don't know… Neal doesn't really screw up much."
Peter sighed. "You really don't know where he is?" He didn't reply. "Mozzie!"
"No, I really don't."

"He hasn't been talking about Kate?" Mozzie went silent again. "Tell me what he said,"
"We got some inside help, and made sure Kate wasn't in California. We were pretty sure she hadn't left the continent. Then he realized something and we found some relevant stuff here. Here in New York. But it was in the boundaries. We were planning on going there tomorrow."
"So then why'd he go out of the boundaries?"
"Exactly my own thoughts,"

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It hurt so badly, everything felt wrong and out of place. The annoying copper taste wouldn't leave Neal's mouth. He opened his eyes only to see darkness. He listened as hard as his body would allow. He was in a car? He could feel the ground moving. He slowly breathed in deeply.

"He's awake," A voice nearby grunted.

"Good, we're here,"
"And where is here?" Neal asked, startling the man who had just talked.

"Shut up!" He growled and Neal felt himself being pushed and dragged somewhere. He tried to open his eyes once more but they refused to budge.

He felt his feet scrape over cement stairs, and the temperature seemed to be dropping. A basement, he thought.

"Kate," He suddenly moaned. Had Kate really been with these people? He desperately hoped not.

"She's dead," The man cackled.

"No!" Neal yelled. He suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline. He stood on his own feet but quickly wobbled to the ground. They basement floor was a lot harder than he imagined. The floor started shaking violently but he soon realized it was himself. "Where's Kate?" Neal demanded.

"I already told you, she's dead!" The man yelled, which was followed by a slam of a door and wild laughing.

Neal was alone. He had never felt so alone in his life. He wouldn't have even minded if Peter was there if it meant escaping this loneliness.

He felt like a huge idiot. He had gotten really reckless. He couldn't help but think how easy it would be for Kate to be shot, as he had almost been shot himeself. So then he ran off, without Mozzie like they had originally planned, and went to try and find Kate on his own.

He shivered. His head hurt so badly. If it would just stop turning for a second maybe he could try and open his eyes and find a way out. He sniffed and tried to put a hand to his head but his arms weren't responding. He shook harder, Kate just couldn't be gone; she just couldn't. Why couldn't it have been him? He thought frantically. Pretty soon Neal lost all consciousness and fell into a deep sleep.

Not mush later a pair of rough hands shook him from his sleep. "What do you want June?" He blurted right before his eyes opened and he realized he was definitely not in June's warm comfy bed.

"Why hello, gentlemen," Neal grinned, he actually didn't feel half bad any more, his head had stopped aching. At least he felt all right until a huge callused hand slapped him in the face. Once again he felt warm copper in his mouth. "Good morning to you too," Neal muttered. "Or is it morning at all?"

"Shut up," the man said. Neal recognized the voice that had said the same thing hours before.

Neal took in his surroundings. He noted he was in a chair, with his hands duck taped around the back of the chair and his feet also seemed to be duck taped together. "Creative," He murmured, with a small chuckle. Above him was a single flickering bulb, the only light in the room. Neal could only see about three feet all around him, the lighting in this place was terrible, he thought. He turned his head slightly to the left; he could see another source of light coming from a door.

"You think this is funny?" The man barked.

"Not really, I'm actually quite tired and wouldn't mind another nap." Neal answered truthfully.

The man watched Neal carefully, he knew the man wasn't as dull as he perceived. Neal gazed back at the man, slowly pushing his eyes to the man's hand. The big thug in front of him was wearing a ring, and not just any ring. It was the ring Neal had been studying so closely for what seemed like a lifetime.

"Where's Kate?" He pleaded pitifully.

The man with the ring, the bigger of the two men, chuckled. "How many times do you want us to answer?"
Neal's muscles tightened. "She's not dead," He shook. "You're lying." He refused to believe.
"Who are you?" The man with the ring interjected. "How did you find my warehouse?"
Neal's face radiated with anger, he wasn't going to give this son of a bitch what he wanted. "What do you mean? I was only walking, and you and you're thugs jumped me!"

He lied with ease but the men weren't buying it. "So you normally take walks in alleys do you?"
"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" Neal knew it was a pathetic lie but he was so exhausted he didn't really care.

"I'll ask you again, how did you know where my warehouse was?"
"I didn't,"

He slapped him again. Neal felt a new wave of nausea take control but pushed it back with all his strength. "Your ring," He gave in. "The symbol on it is the same one out side of your warehouse."
"Who are you?"
"Jonathan Homes." He replied.

"Jonathan…" The man considered. "Another lie. When are you going to realize this is not a game?"

"I think I should be asking you that," Neal retorted.

The man pulled something out of his pocket. Neal had to focus to see what it was; his vision was getting blurry again.

"Tell me who you're working for and why you came to my warehouse. Tell me the right answers and you will be free to go,"
"Now who's the liar," Neal slurred, he couldn't think right. He could see the pistol being pointed at him but something inside of him just didn't really give a damn anymore. His mind kept on sending him pictures of Kate's deformed body. It didn't really matter at this point, he thought, Kate was dead and soon he would join her.

"Who are you?" The man shook him.

"Oh me? I'm Neal Caffrey," And just like that the bullet was fired. Neal wasn't sure if they pulled it on accident or if they recognized his name, all he did know was he was no longer conscious.

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Soft, gentle, cautious hands stroked Neal's cheeks. He could also sense someone putting pressure on his chest with a rag of some sort, on the spot where he had been fired at.

He blinked a few times before completely opening his eyes. He hoped he wasn't being delusional.

"Kate?"