I'm so sorry for taking forever to update! I personally blame Overhawk and InSilva for writing awesome Ocean 11 fanfics (which I highly recommend you read, btw). Well…here's Chapter 3!
Thomas Holdings stared intently at the mirror-wall in the interrogation room, hoping that he was scaring whoever was on the other side. He smirked as he remembered all those agents that he…let's say…discouraged from continuing their interrogation. Not that he hurt them…physically anyway.
The fact that the FBI still kept throwing rookie agents to question him was amusing in an astounding way. Mostly due to the fact that the Feds made the classic mistake of judging a book by its cover, not something Tommy expected from professionals, but he wasn't that particularly hurried to correct their mistake. If the Feds thought he was the muscle man of the group that was fine by him. Usually Tommy's appearance gained the mark's trust, or at least make them eager to befriend the scary stranger, unless he was going for the whole intimidate-by-not-saying-moving-or-showing-general-emotion thing. Holdings frowned. Of course, that would make him the muscle man which the Feds assumed he was. He sighed. Apparently the Feds were at least half-right on some things.
Tommy Holdings finally released some of his pent up frustration show by giving an irritated sigh. Not a huge display of emotion, but some of the FBI agents seemed to specialize in reading all the little emotions that white collar criminals revealed. He started to idly wonder where his interrogators were. They left after 'thoroughly intimidating him' and leaving him to 'think about his options.'
Holdings was really starting to get annoyed with this entire FBI interrogation. He has been in here for about three days straight and there hasn't been a single trace of the guys. Sure he didn't expect them on the first day, but he's been here for 72 hours! Of course, he did get caught by making a classic rookie mistake, but the guys were more likely to tease him mercilessly than actually leave him here…except for Badeni. The boss was never one to allow stupid people to be apart of his crew if they played a vital role. Such as gaining the marks' trust and helping to stake out their place for a robbery, for example.
Tommy shook his head in an attempt to get rid of his negative thoughts. He wasn't entirely sure if it worked. Hmm…think happy thoughts, he commanded himself. Of course, the guys were going to bust him out. He has been apart of Badeni's crew for years and helped steal billions of dollars in antiques. Not even Badeni would just leave him here to hang and dry. He would be rescued for the challenge of it if nothing else. Tommy hoped anyway. He grimaced minutely. Not exactly happy thoughts, but it was close enough.
Holdings returned to staring broodingly at the mirror-wall, wishing that something would happen soon or else this would be another really long day…
~O~
Neal's head thumped against the cold desk, his fedora pulled down over his face. The classic, slow work day turning into a hostage situation was not really something Neal expected. Seeing a familiar face was something he expected even less.
The ex-con listened idly to the low murmur of the FBI agents who were still trying to make sense of the rapid change in events. The current theory was that the higher ups were just testing them. For what, Neal had no clue. He'd guess field work if he had too, but he hoped that the agents would get that idea out of their head and soon. He might not get an overly fond, glowing feeling whenever he saw some of the agents—as welcoming as their glares are—but he didn't want them to die with a lone hole in their forehead. Possibly the leg, just to teach them a lesson. God, Neal hated guns.
"What do they even want?" an agent asked for about the hundredth time. Neal was pretty sure that was one of the newbie agents who interrogated the thief that he wasn't supposed to know about. Clark, wasn't it?
"We don't know because, shockingly, the answer hasn't magically come to any of us because you had the brains to ask that question again," Cruz snapped. Neal smirked slightly. Apparently he wasn't the only one tired of hearing that question on repeat. Neal noticed Peter looking in his direction with a questioning expression in a very not subtle way. Honestly, for as much as Peter worked with conmen people would think that something would've stuck. The conman sighed. Peter was probably just wondering why he wasn't being his usual charming self and making casual comments about the thieves' motives and tactics that either made the other agents feel angry that a criminal actually offered useful advice that helped solve cases or just thankful that he was on their side. Peter opened his mouth. Neal decided that this was the perfect time to answer Agent Clark's rhetorical question.
"They probably want the usual things that criminals want," Neal said as he pushed up his fedora. "Money, information, a clean record, crew members that the FBI has had for the past 72 hours...the usual." Peter glanced up at Neal sharply. Neal smirked and simply mouthed, "Haversham." His handler seemed somewhat disgruntled, but the other agent didn't seem to believe Neal's assessment. Well, more like one agent…
"Money?" Agent Clark scoffed. "That seems a bit…primitive don't you think?"
"Even though that's the motivating factor for many crimes, yes, I suppose it is a bit primitive," Neal agreed, not quiet keeping the mocking tone out of his voice. Should he be more polite to a federal agent? Probably. Did that really matter? No…not really. "Some people's greed leads them to a life of crime I suppose…"
"Like you?" Clark challenged. Neal's eyes narrowed for half a second before he flashed a charming smile at the rookie agent. The ex-con saw Peter stiffen out of the corner of his eye at Clark's insult. Damn, he must've caught a flash of something. Peter could read him like no other. Some of the other agents turned to Neal, slightly interested if the new agent could crack Neal's mask. They had no faith…
"I suppose..." Neal's yawn effectively ended Clarks' triumphant expression.
~O~
Peter just managed to catch the flicker of annoyance in Neal's blue eyes when Agent Clark not so subtly suggested that he wasn't any better than the Crazy Austrian and his troop of idiotic minions before the ex-conman pulled his usual charming mask into place. The Federal Agent listened as Neal answered in a casual voice that successfully covered up his irritation, except from him, of course. The yawn might've been a bit much though.
"But why would they steal money from the FBI?" Cruz asked, probably trying to steer the conversation back to the situation at hand. "Why not a bank?"
"Because, my dear agent," said the Austrian in a falsely cheerful voice as he ambled towards the group of FBI agents, "a bank does not have five original Masaccio paintings or the Emperor of Spain's favorite gold statue or records of falsely accused people who vould like to…correct the government's terrible mistake."
"Or some of our crew…" a henchman behind the Austrian muttered. His boss glanced at him for a moment before continuing.
"Now you all know that you vill help us. Villingly or not. Or else I might be forced to…" He sighed as he gave a lazy flick of his hand. The agents looked at him blankly for a moment until one of the Austrian's gunmen whipped out a gun and shot at the FBI agents. The bullet shattered the tile right next to Hughes' leg. Pieces of fake marble flew through the air. Agent Cruz gave an involuntary not-quite-covered-up shriek as the other agents glanced Hughes, worried. He stared coolly back at the Austrian. The boss seemed at bit peeved, but continued as though Hughes had been cowering in fear. "Next time," the mad Austrian said, "I von't miss. None of us vill. It's simply impossible that…"
"Full of himself isn't he?" Peter muttered.
"Aw, but Peter," Neal said softly with a genuine smile, "you can't have a villain without an evil monologue. How else are the good guys supposed to know what their evil plan is and win at the end?"
Peter grinned. "I suppose the good guys could try and contact somebody on the outside."
"Shame the bad guys confiscated our cell phones and probably cut the phone lines," Neal said wistfully.
"Probably?"
"Well, it would be an amateur move not to cut the phone lines and I seriously doubt that amateurs could break into the FBI headquarters and take agents hostage."
"True," Peter conceded. "So, do you know anything about the Crazy Austrian and his troop of minions?" Neal gave a soft laugh.
" 'Crazy Austrian'?"
"Yeah," Peter said shortly.
"Creative."
"Well, he's not exactly sane is he?"
"Oh he's incredibly sane," Neal assured Peter. "His plans just seem a bit…loony."
"Well, now that that's all cleared up…"
Neal rolled his eyes. "He just seems insane because he runs on adrenaline and bloodlust, but all his plans are pure brilliance. He always has the best, second best if he must, conmen working with him or he gets old pros to train some newbies. He doesn't like to take risks." Neal could practically see the gears turning in Peter's head as he digested this new information.
"The best…I'm assuming you were once worked with him," Peter stated. He continued before Neal could answer…or not answer for that matter. "Anything else?"
Neal hesitated."He never plans a heist he doesn't think he can complete."
"Lovely."
"Mhmm," Neal hesitated briefly. He looked intently at Peter. "All of his plans are thought out and executed with exactness down to the second."
Peter frowned as he mulled that over. Suddenly, his face broke into a slightly smug smirk. Neal glanced at him worriedly. "I believe the word you're looking for is accuracy."
Neal rolled his eyes. "Same thing."
"Not really."
"Exactness and accuracy mean the same exact thing," Neal insisted.
"Accuracy makes more sense."
"Anyway, the point is that the 'Crazy Austrian' is one of the best conmen on the planet...at least in Europe."
"Does someone have a man crush?" Peter teased as he absentmindedly realized that the Crazy Austrian was coming to a close on his 'evil monologue.' He heard Neal snort softly.
"Neal," Peter started tentatively, not sure how the conman would react to his question or, more to the point, if he would lie about it. "Did you—"
"Peter, do you trust me?" Neal asked abruptly. Peter hesitated before uncertainly shaking his head yes. As the federal agent opened his mouth to question Neal on the abrupt subject change, a flicker of movement caught his eye.
"Caffrey!" Badeni called gleefully as he moved toward Neal. "Have to say didn't expect to see you here of all places. In the Louvre sure, the FBI headquarters no." The Austrian gave Neal no time to answer as he hugged Neal like a long lost brother.
"Hey, Badeni," Neal said cheerfully as he patted the Austrian on the back, "long time, no see."
Hope you liked it!
REVIEW!