Hey guys! I'm back (after a way too long hiatus *ulp*) and ready to write! I'm so sorry about my hiatus, and I hope you can still remember-and still care- about our case here.

Once again, I'd like to thank MorganD, rachelhighway, Mr. Quinnt, MEENAKSHI SINGLA, and, of course, my lovely beta ccluvshorses101. Thank you so much for your time and reviews!

Please also remember that I am only human-with teachers who must never cease divising new ways to consume my time. I will try my utmost to update regularly, but don't despair if I'm late by a day. No more long-term hiatus for me!

Please remember to R&R! Oh, and any comments are welcome ;)

Now, back to our long awaited story, hmm?

Chapter 6: The Note

The Gentleman was lying on a long, velvety couch when the call from Alice came. Sighing at the impending doom of yet another burner phone, the cunning thief answered.

"Why, hello Alice. What on Earth has convinced you to get up this early?" It was about 3:00. The Gentleman had gotten up to watch the sunrise. Alice, on the other hand, barely ever got up before noon, bar calamity.

The Gentleman sincerely hoped this wasn't calamity, but braced for the worst.

"I received a message from our friend behind bars this morning. He says to move on to Stage Two."

The Gentleman couldn't suppress a chilling smile. "Very well, Alice. Let us contact our other, more freely moving friend. You know he isn't patient. We move tonight."

Needing no further prompting, Alice disconnected and set about writing an email. She had meant to ask about calling Riley, but she knew better than trying to call back.

By now, her friend's cell phone was probably at the bottom of the Hudson, providing shelter for some lucky fish.

FBI Headquarters

The room had dropped into an eerie silence. The tiredness had shot out of Peter like a bullet and he was instantly alert. Everyone's focus was fixed on the small note Jones was holding gingerly, as if it were a snake.

After a second of shocked silence, Diana spoke up.

"Well? What does it say? Oh, never mind. Give me that." Diana took the note from Jones. For all her bravado, she still eyed it warily. Then she flipped it open and began to read.

"Dear Friends,

I hope that you are having fun with our little game. I know I am. In fact, on the topic of things I know, I know The Lacemaker will go just splendidly in my place in Seville. As to our little game, I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other quite soon, no matter who wins. But, I would advise you to act quickly, my friends; soon I will hold all the Aces.

Best of Luck,

The Gentleman

The room was still for a moment while they let it sink in.

"He's playing with us!" Diana burst out. "Telling us all about his new acquisition, I'm surprised he didn't mention what kind of hook he'd use to hang it."

"My question is," Neal said slowly, "how did he know what we were calling him?"

Another bout of silence filled the room.

"something else is off though," Jones said. "I mean, I've been thinking about it; if you stole a Dalí worth millions, wouldn't you sell it? Why keep it? And where is Seville?"

"Seville is in Spain." replied Peter.

"And why on earth would he tell us where he's taking it?" Diana asked, clearly perplexed.

"He wouldn't," Peter replied. "This is all just a game to him, and watching us squirm is just part of it. Well, get this to the lab for prints. Also, check the security feeds and see if we can get lucky."

One Hour Later

"I say we head home for now, guys, and get some rest. Maybe we'll get a better shot at this guy tomorrow." Peter was tired. The surveillance hadn't turned up much, just someone out of sight of the cameras laying a letter on the counter while the clerk wasn't looking.

No luck on prints either, just Diana's and Jones'.

They said their goodbyes and parted ways, Neal following Peter out to his car. Waiting for them stood a short man looking sketchily nervous.

"Well hello, Mozzie. I didn't expect to see you here." That was an understatement. Peter would normally be a little more shocked than this, but he was tired, and just wanted to go home.

"Have no fear, Suit, I come in peace." Neal rolled his eyes. Mozzie had a flair for the dramatic.

"What are you doing here Mozz? We're headed home."

"Well, normally, I would never accommodate you Suits and all of your hidden agendas," Mozzie began, "but this time is a novel exception."

"Well, Mozz, spit it out; what's so crucial?" Neal was interested; he never thought he'd see Mozzie voluntarily give info to the FBI directly.

"Well, there are some rumors going around about this art thief who is making some big trouble around New York-"

"Yeah, we've heard of him." Peter was sure of exactly who Mozzie was speaking of.

"Well, I might know where the thief in question has, as you say, 'set up shop' for the time being. But!" Mozzie exclaimed as Peter opened his mouth to interrupt, "I have terms of releasing this information."

"Of course you do. How do we even know this is real? Where is this info coming from?" Peter was skeptical, especially of Mozzie and things that were too good to be true. Combine the two, and a new word was needed to describe the level of mistrust.

"To answer your questions, Suit, my source is reliable. He or she stated seeing a figure in black with a cylindrical canister arrive at the lobby and go up the elevator of a certain hotel on the night of the Metropolitan heist. My terms are as follows:" he held up a finger. "One. I will be immune from all persecution in the proceedings. My name shall not even be mentioned. I and my informant shall be referred to as Confidential Informants One and Two respectively."

"Do you even have anything to do with this, Mozzie?" Neal asked.

"No, but for the sake of my informant-"

"Ok, Mozzie," said Peter. "I think we can do the no names, but immunity is out of my control."

"I'll settle for it. Two:" Mozzie held up a second finger "I am forgiven for the 'Treasure' incident."

"So that's what this is about," said Peter. "You feel guilty."

"As if, Suit. I learned to ignore any counterproductive feelings such as 'guilt'" Mozzie made air quotes around the word "a long time ago. What I dislike is having my closest friend" he gestured to Neal "treat me with distrust and, in turn, one of his closest friends" he gestured to Peter "distrust him in return."

"Wow, Mozzie," Said Peter, momentarily taken aback "that's very…big of you."

"Well, Suit, before you get all emotional on me, here is the address of the Hotel, along with the room number." Mozzie handed Peter a folded piece of paper, with an address and room number written in Mozzie's hand.

"Once again, Mozzie: are you absolutely sure this is the address? This isn't some sort of false alarm?" Peter was getting excited; this could be the lead they needed! He wasn't alone in this thought, Neal's eyes glinted with hope and excitement as well.

"Confidential informant Two couldn't be more positive, and neither could I."

"Call Diana," Peter told Neal, "And Jones, if he isn't still with her. I'm going to see how many people I can pull from their posts here at HQ to give backup. I'm not giving this guy time to get away." And with that, Peter dashed off towards the elevator, with Neal alongside him, already talking to Diana on his cell.

"And Mozzie!" Peter called over his shoulder "If this turns out well, all is forgiven!" The elevator dinged shut, two reinvigorated passengers.

A short time later, Peter and Neal were in one of four armored vehicles headed to the address given to them by Mozzie. They had taken every agent available, plus most of the operators who happened to be working late.

All of the superior officers present had volunteered, so they had the support of basically the entire building. They had met Diana and Jones on the way, and all were aboard.

Normally, this much force wouldn't be needed in a simple robber apprehension, but the case had become quickly famous throughout the department.

In truth, there were two reasons for this amount of support: One, everyone wanted to be part of the apprehension of the quirky Gentleman, and second, they knew the department's image would suffer if they didn't catch this guy quickly. They weren't taking chances.

Peter could only hope that Mozzie's friend was right.

Mozzie watched the vans pull out, one by one. By his count, there couldn't be many people left in the building; 5 at tops.

"Very good, Mozzie," came a voice from the darkness, whose owner appeared silently out of the shadows, followed by two more. "In fact, I probably couldn't have done better myself." The woman in front smiled a devil's smile, centered near perfectly from a shroud of richly chocolate hair. She was small; at first one might think frail. They would be wrong. Riley, he knew, had a quiet strength about her; they all did, especially in their areas of talent. Riley's area of talent happened to be conning, and she was regarded as one of the best in the business. Except for Neal, Mozzie thought loyally.

Not that he was acting very loyal.

They had the kind of strength that might not be noticeable at first, to the untrained eye. But Mozzie had practice with people like this, and they were quite possibly the best partners in crime alive.

"Most of them will be gone now. If you can't handle what's left, then you don't deserve to get in." Mozzie looked at the three of them. "We're even now. I'm done; out, you understand? I don't mind deceiving the Suit, but Neal…"

"We understand." Said the second young woman, stepping up alongside Riley. "This was quite enough for one night's work, I'd say. Go home, Mozzie; get a glass of wine. Leave all the hard work to us, hmm?" Alice laughed softly. She was s little shorter than Riley with mousey blonde hair. She was known for her design prowess (he couldn't believe the ingenuity of the harness design she'd sent him) and her more than equal ability in the world of code and firewalls.

As it was, the third figure, who was holding Alice's kit, handed it to her. The three of them started towards the elevator.

Mozzie couldn't keep quiet any longer. "They'll catch you, you know. You can't keep this up forever."

The third member, dressed entirely in black dress clothes, paused, and then turned to face Mozzie.

"But we don't need forever, my dear Mozzie. We just need tonight." The Gentleman's disguise may have been ingenious, but no one on Earth could mistake that laugh for a man's. Her hair was raven black, and eyes a jade green. Her features were far from masculine, but she was tall for a woman, and the fuzziness of the security cameras had hidden her already disguised figure from view.

The other two joined in as they proceeded to the elevator, but paused as it opened. Riley pulled out her gun and shot out the camera with a silenced pew, and the three vixens entered the elevator.

Mozzie turned and left, vowing to down a whole bottle of wine when he got home. Maybe two, he thought to himself bitterly.

Ooh, 2000 words! I can only hope it begins to help heal the void my hiatus caused. Also, congrats to for guessing The Gentleman's identity first. I'm sure some of you did as well, but my hope is that at least some of you were surprised! Please, do remember to Review!