Neal stared down the barrel of the gun that was clasped in the FBI agent's steady hands.
"Wow." He smiled, trying to look at ease. "I must say, Miss Bedfordshire, I did not see that coming."
"Shut up." She snarled. Neal raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. He was standing in the middle of the classroom with his ink stained hands raised in surrender. Needless to say, he had the undivided attention of the entire room and his classmates were staring at him with sheer terror splashed across their faces. He felt a sudden surge of pity for them - they had absolutely no idea what was going on. From her position by his side, Kate reached up and grabbed at his sleeve.
"Nick! What… w-what's going on? Why is she p-p-pointing a g-gun at you?" Neal gently tugged his arm free from her fingers. If he showed that there was even a hint of a connection between him and Kate, the FBI would be all over her.
"Nothing, Kate. It's fine." Neal squinted up at the agent who had, until five minutes ago, been his geography teacher. "Where's your backup?" He asked her calmly.
"There is no backup. I was the only one authorised to bring you in."
"Please." Neal rolled his eyes. "I'm an internationally wanted criminal, globally renowned art thief and a pretty damn decent forger." Neal's lips tilted upwards in a killer smile. "Allegedly." He lifted his piercing eyes to meet hers. "Anyway, seeing as I am, allegedly, dangerous, why would the feds send one helicopter and one agent to arrest me? I must say, I expected more." Ignoring the gasps that the statement brought to the lips of his classmates, Neal studied Agent Cruz. "So I repeat. Where is your backup?"
That was when the door of the classroom slammed open with a deafening reverberation. It hung drunkenly off broken hinges, swaying slightly in the breeze from the open window. Neal stared at it. Well. He thought grimly. There's the backup. Twelve gun wielding police officers in bullet proof vests stormed into the room, shouting for silence, blocking the exit, securing the perimeter. They were led by none other than Peter Burke.
Neal snapped free from his dreamy state shock with a muttered curse as his classmates, screaming, threw themselves under the tables. Though his mind was whirling with escape routes, exit strategies and the words I should have listened to Mozzie, Neal forced himself to concentrate. He had to keep his wits about him. If he panicked now…
"CAFFREY – FREEZE! HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!" Peter bellowed. Neal looked at him calmly. He still hadn't moved from his relaxed position - leaning languorously against a desk, hands slightly raised, ankles crossed elegantly.
"Hey Peter." His smile was rueful. "Nice to finally meet you face to face." Peter could hardly believe his ears. The kid had nerve.
"That's Agent Burke to you, Caffrey. Hands on your head!" Peter growled, and Neal slowly raised his hands to rest against his dark hair.
"Happy now?" Peter ignored him. He turned to Jones, who stood waiting by his side, face blank.
"Go on." Peter murmured. Jones nodded once and started towards Neal, a pair of handcuffs glittering in his fist. Neal watched him approach steadily, and Peter marvelled at the distinct lack of fear in the teenager's ebullient blue eyes.
"U-um, um… excuse me." A timid voice pierced the silence. Peter whirled around. He had been so wrapped up in thoughts of Neal Caffrey (and why said Neal Caffrey wasn't making any attempt to run) that he had all but forgotten about the 30 other school children in the classroom. The voice had come from a girl with red hair pulled back in a loose bun. She looked terrified.
"Yes?" Peter asked, not unkindly. The girl gulped.
"Uh, who's…who's… who's Neal Caffrey?" She stuttered, before jerking her head over at Neal and Jones. "That's Nick Halden." She said it with such conviction that Peter was almost impressed. Neal certainly knew how to keep up an alias – one strong enough to con even his classmates. He glanced over at Neal curiously. The teenager was looking at the red headed girl with genuine sadness, possibly even regret, in his eyes. Neal slowly took off his glasses, revealing the face that was splashed across wanted posters worldwide.
"I'm so sorry, Sara." He whispered. "I…" He swallowed. "I was going to tell you."
"You have a right to remain silent." Jones snapped, as he wrenched Neal's hands behind his back and secured them with the cuffs. Neal winced – though Peter suspected it was because of the cold look he was getting off the Sara girl, and not because of Jones. He almost felt a stab of pity for Neal… but that was ridiculous. The kid had brought this upon himself. Jones wheeled Neal around to face the exit, but before the group could leave the classroom and head for the secure transport vehicle downstairs, Neal stopped dead in his tracks.
"What are my charges?" He asked politely, eyes finally dancing away from Sara to rest on Peter's face. Peter sighed.
"We'll go through your charges when we get to headquarters. Now come on, Caffrey." But Neal wasn't going anywhere.
"I have the right to know. I've studied arrest procedures. I have the right to know the charges listed on my arrest warrant, and you are not allowed to deny me that right." Peter cursed under his breath. Trust Neal to always find some sort of loophole. Peter wasn't quite sure what Neal was up to, but he knew the kid was playing some sort of angle. Stalling for time, perhaps. Or trying to prove to Sara and his friends that he wasn't a bad person. But whatever Neal was planning, Peter had no choice but to play along. With a great deal of grumbling, Peter drew out the arrest warrant from his pocket and started reading.
"Let's see… Neal Caffrey, you are charged with theft, trespassing on private property, trespassing on government property, money laundering, association with international fugitives, in particular the criminal fence known as Rusty…" Neal forced himself to keep calm as Peter continued to list his offences. God, the feds knew a lot, but at least he would go down in style. If he was even going to go down. Neal had requested for his charges to be read out so that he would have time to crack the handcuffs and plan his escape. He was already working on the cuffs with a paper clip. And he had a half-baked escape plan that involved a pack of tic tacs and some ninja skills. He was pretty certain that it would work.
"Underage driving. Accessory to robbery." Neal had to choke back a protestation at that one. Accessory? He had masterminded that thing – though it was probably best if Peter didn't know that. The list continued. "Breaking and entering. Fifty seven counts first degree burglary. Fare dodging on public transport." Neal couldn't keep silent any longer. He looked at Peter incredulously.
"Seriously, Peter? An old lady faints and I stay on the train an extra stop to help her. How is that fare dodging?" Peter stopped reading.
"You're right. Normally it wouldn't count as fare dodging. The rail services only filed that charge after you tried to pickpocket a train guard." Neal raised his eyebrows, a playful smile coming to his lips.
"Fair enough, I suppose. Was the lady alright, by the way?"
"Yes. I do believe she was." Peter looked amused. He was a lot less intimidating when he wasn't scowling. But then the grin melted off his face and he continued with the list. "What's next… oh yes. Hacking government databases and leaking highly sensitive information." He paused. "And that, Caffrey, is all I am required by law to tell you. You will be informed of the rest of your charges at headquarters like I said."
Neal smiled softly. The lock of the handcuffs had broken with a soft click, and he knew that if he timed the next five minutes right, he was free. Jones once again placed a hand on his shoulder. Neal shot one final glance at Sara.
"Call me." He murmured, staring into her eyes. "I'll explain everything – I promise."
"Caffrey…" Peter warned. He could practically feel the mischievous energy coming off the kid in waves. Neal grinned up at him.
"Sorry Peter. But I gotta go." And with that, Neal threw the handcuffs that hung loose on his slender wrists to the floor and leapt up onto a table top. All hell broke loose as Neal made his bid for freedom. Jones, shouting up a storm, fumbled for his gun, but Neal drew out a pack of tic tacs from his pocket and lobbed them at his head. Jones recoiled with an explosion of curses. Neal ran across the table top, dodging the hands that grasped at his ankles, ignoring the screams (some supportive, some petrified) of his classmates.
He reached the end of the line of desks and found himself facing Peter Burke. The agent was blocking the only door. Neal winked at him, then launched himself up into the air. With a well-timed somersault that took even Neal by surprise, he vaulted over Peter's head, out the door and into the corridor. As he jumped past Peter, the agent grappled at Neal's air borne body and managed to clutch a converse clad foot. The contact caused Neal to hit the floor awkwardly. He felt his ankle crack with the impact. Pain flared up his leg. Neal gritted his teeth and ignored it. He was outside the geography room, away from the agents and away from Peter. Ignoring the burning pain in his ankle, Neal broke into a sprint.
Peter swore and tore after Neal, shouting orders into his watch. This was going to be one hell of a chase.
Hahaha, and you guys thought that Neal was going to go down without a fight... :) Hope you enjoyed this and thanks for all the support! Please, drop me a review! :)