Neal Caffrey: fifteen year old forger, master con man and infamous thief, was sitting in his GCSE geography lesson. Rain lashed the windows of the top floor humanities classroom, sending beads of pearly moisture whipping up to kiss the dust infected glass. Neal stared out at the feral elements, eyes dreamy. He often found that the hissing rain was one hell of a lot more interesting than school.
It didn't help that he hated geography. He had memorised the names of every country and capital city on the planet when he was five years old, and in his line of work, he didn't need to know anything about plate tectonics or population pyramids. He had already learnt all the skills that could be gleaned from geography; the subject could offer him no more. Neal tuned out the droning voice of the substitute teacher and freed his mind to drift.
The sight of the pouring rain dragged Neal back to his first day at Merrinote. He remembered how the fat globules of water had trickled down the windscreen of June's stolen Ford Fiesta, pooling on the scratched bonnet and drowning the entire world. He had sat in the idling car for a good ten minutes, toying with his seatbelt, watching the downpour - trying to stall the inevitable. Though he was embarrassed to admit it, Neal had been too scared to enter the building straight away. His last experience with school had been short and not all too terribly sweet; the thought of once again entering the education system filled him with a sort of primitive dread. The fact that this was a high risk move only cranked up the pressure. Neal was topping Most Wanted lists worldwide, and he was still the subject of colossal manhunts. His life was a high octane game of cat and mouse - with only one mouse and an awful lot of cats. Despite being initially confident in his plan to enrol in school, now that he was sitting outside… he suddenly hadn't been so sure.
It had been June who had given him the push he needed. She had placed a calming hand on his shoulder and looked deep into his scintillating blue eyes. Neal, she had said, in that rich, steady voice he had grown to trust, You're one in a million. One in a million! Now go in there and dazzle them with that smile of yours. He had nodded slowly. Given June a hug. Taken a deep breath. Then he had hopped lightly out of the car and sauntered through the double doors of Merrinote with a cheeky smile and a confident swagger. He hadn't looked back.
"Nick?" The braying voice of his geography teacher, Miss Bedfordshire, snapped him away from the blurry world of memory. Miss Bedfordshire was today's substitute teacher, standing in for the usual balding Mrs Blake, and Neal had never seen her before in his life. But in a school as big as this one, Neal supposed that new subs were employed all the time. He glanced up, trying his best to look like he was paying attention.
"Uh, yeah?"
"What sort of plate boundary does the diagram show on the board?" The teacher demanded; her tone every bit like the no-nonsense ululation of a SWAT commander. The resemblance was uncanny. Neal squinted up at the whiteboard, cursing silently as he tried to work out the solution. Truth was, he had no idea – to him, the diagram was just a series of squiggles and meaningless lines. He decided to give it a shot anyway. Never break character. He mentally berated himself. Nick Halden wouldn't have been caught daydreaming. He would've known the answer to this question. Neal cleared his throat.
"Well, the diagram OBVIOUSLY shows a… uh…"
"Destructive boundary." Kate, who was sitting next to him, murmured the words under her breath.
"A destructive plate boundary." Neal finished the sentence smoothly, inserting the answer without pause. Sometimes it helped to be a conman. Miss Bedfordshire subjected him to a long, pointed look, but made no comment.
"Good… Nick." She drawled, and Neal blinked in surprise. His sharp mind stepped up a gear, instantly analysing all the connotations of what he had just heard. Had Miss Bedfordshire just hesitated? It was almost as if another name, not Nick Halden, had been dancing on the very tip of her tongue. That sent alarm bells ringing in his head - but he quickly quelled them. Keep calm and carry on. His inner self whispered. Neal took a deep, shuddering breath, and started to mentally calculate escape routes. One can never be too careful.
"Destructive boundary is right." The draconian teacher continued. "But next time, Nick, I would appreciate it if you paid attention to my lesson instead of gazing out the window." The words were scathing.
"Sure thing, Miss." Neal smiled a perfect, contrite smile that had been custom built for teachers. Miss Bedfordshire held his eyes for a further heartbeat, then slowly faced the class.
Neal waited until the teacher had switched her attention back to the lesson at hand before finally turning to Kate. He shot her a dazzling grin – a grin which she deflected away by breaking eye contact. Neal raised his eyebrows at her hostility, then leaned in towards her. She sidled away.
"Thanks for helping me, Kate. I'm so bad at geography -" He started.
"No you're not. You would be good if you put some effort in." Kate deadpanned. The pair elapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
Their relationship had shrivelled up and died two days ago. That was when Neal had decided that he liked Sara more than he liked Kate. It was also the day that Kate had made a new… friend. Hey Nick. I'm Gordon Taylor. But you can call me Kate's boyfriend. Neal still wanted to punch the guy. Ignorant, arrogant, flamboyant swine… but at least he made Kate happy. Neal had to admit that maybe it was for the best. With Kate pursuing her own romantic interests, Neal was free to cultivate his relationship with Sara. He was released from the love triangle that had ensnared his thoughts for the past week, but he wasn't safe from all his problems. The feds were still hot on his heels, and after the close shave with the warehouse the other day, they would be hounding him more relentlessly than ever. Neal shivered and returned to gazing furtively out the window, thoughts rattling around his head like tennis balls in the Wimbledon final.
Sara Ellis was sitting two rows behind Neal. She had been paired with Gordon Taylor, the charming new guy from England who also happened to be going out with Kate Moreau. After pestering the London born Gordon about whether he had met the Queen (to which he tersely replied with "No. Have you met Barack Obama?") Sara had settled back to do her geography coursework. And sneakily listen to her iPod. And spy on the boy she knew by the name of Nick Halden. He really did have lovely hair, she reflected. Lovely face too – earnest and gorgeous and oh so dastardly clever. His glasses sat well on his angled features, and his styled hair captured the light beautifully. Sara suspected that nothing on God's Earth could make Nick Halden even a milligram less attractive. Everything about him was perfect in her eyes, right down to the braces on his teeth. The brackets were a deep metallic navy, and the colour served to enhance his snow white smile and bring out the electric blue that threaded through his eyes.
"Glasses and braces, but I must say – he works it." Sara glanced over at the person who had just voiced her thoughts aloud. It was Gordon Taylor. He was sitting back on his plastic chair, watching her watch Nick with a thoughtful expression on his smooth face. "You know, Sara," He started. "I'd be careful around old Nick over there. I've met his type before, and-" But Gordon never got to finish his sentence. At that exact moment, a thunderous whirring,
throbbing hum reverberated throughout the room. Deafening. Foreboding. A deluge of leaves, stripped from a nearby tree, took flight and pasted themselves against their top floor classroom windows. The assorted blood red leaves had been blasted by a great surge of air that sent the blinds swinging crazily and papers flying everywhere.
"What the hell was that?" Sara shouted over the noise. Gordon didn't reply. He was staring out the window, horror flickering in his eyes.
"Christ, that's a…"
"Helicopter." Sara finished. She shielded her eyes and stared out at the monstrous copter. The thing had glided so close to their classroom window it was almost grazing the brickwork, and her fellow classmates were all staring at it with a mix confusion and terror. Sara could see the blaring words POLICE painted along the side of the beast; she could see the ghostly silhouette of a machine gun wielding task force moving about in the cockpit. They were close enough for her to glimpse the whites of their eyes.
The class erupted into pure chaos. There were a few shouts of "AWESOME!" and the click as smart phones gobbled up photos of the bizarre sight. Miss Bedfordshire yelled for silence, and as the helicopter glided away from the window to circle high above the school, the class began to settle down. Now that the blinding noise had dulled to a distant hum once more, the general hubbub faded into a tense, shocked quiet. Sara glanced around shakily. It was the closest she had come to death all year.
She studied the class in an attempt to calm her nerves, and noticed that, unlike everyone else, Nick Halden hadn't sat down. He was still on his feet. He was staring at Miss Bedfordshire. His hands were in the air. The teacher had a gun pointed at his head.
"Neal Caffrey." Miss Bedfordshire sneered, a thin smile playing on her lips. "I'm Special Agent Lauren Cruz. FBI." The gun lowered to level with Nick's left kneecap.
"You're under arrest."
Hey guys :) Thanks for reading! I must say, I wasn't overjoyed with the way this chapter turned out. It feels kinda disjointed… Anyway, consider this chapter an appetizer for what is about to come! Would love to hear your thoughts, please give me a review! They really brighten up my day! :)