The list was not a long one. Four agents from the New York office had been involved with the transfer of Miss Clayton. Those four had access to the file Phoenix sent with her. Diana smiled darkly. She and Jennifer Williams had already interviewed three of them, so far none of them looked glaringly guilty but there was still one more agent to talk to. The kid looked even younger than twenty-six with his brown hair falling into his eyes and an air of uncertainty rolling off of him as he took the seat across the table from her. He couldn't meet her eyes, bringing his gaze up to her chin then dropping it back to the table. Diana sighed… glanced at Jennifer… they both saw it… Guilt.

"Agent Mills," She began "did you accept money from Johnny Richards in exchange for information regarding the whereabouts of a protected witness?"

"Money…" his eyes darted frantically… a trapped and frightened animal. "For where to find him… no… there was no money for …" he trailed off… the kid finally met her composed stare. The desperation in those eyes almost made her feel for him. Then she glanced at Jennifer again and thought about Lenny Thompson's funeral and his fatherless little boy and her resolve hardened.

"No money? Then why… did he pressure you for the information…intimidate you?" the boy nodded and paled noticeably. Diana pushed her advantage. "Did he also force you to help him kidnap a little boy, violently assault Caffrey and murder Agent Thompson." Mills swallowed harshly.

"He offered money at first… said he just wanted some information on an old friend… my mom has a lot of debt… she was drowning. He offered fifty grand if I would just help him find out what happened to his friend Nick Halden… then he took the boy and… I told him I couldn't be part of that and he said things… terrible things would happen to me… to my mom if I backed out before he got his revenge." The words tumbled out in a flurry driven on a tide of fear. "He said all I had to do was call him if you got to close… or if there was any information he should know."

"So you've been all buddy, buddy with Valdez the last few months just to stay up to date on new developments." Jennifer broke in fury radiating off of her.

"Partially" the kid looked at his hands quietly "it also helped that she didn't like Caffrey… I didn't feel as guilty around her as I did around you."

"Why didn't you report all of this months ago, Mills?"

"I was scared and the situation kept getting worse."

Diana tried to squelch the urge to break his arm… then she didn't have to. She was too busy trying to keep Jennifer Williams' hands away from the young man's throat.

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

He eyed the wound on his friend's arm nervously… Neal had refused to let anyone look at it yet, not even the harried EMT who took a moment to step away from the flurry of activity around Marshal McFerrin to ask if Neal was ok… Neal practically shoved the man back into the effort to save the badly injured young man. Agent Young tried next only to be rebuffed by an "I'm fine" and a pointed look in the direction of the gurney being lifted from the floor. A local officer had suggested another ambulance… Neal shook his head quietly, pulling Nathen into the crook of his right arm, murmuring reassuring words to him softly.

Enough was enough Peter decided as he watched his friend sitting stiffly in the arm chair, discreetly wipe his hand on his pants to hide the fact that blood was still trickling off his fingers.

"Neal?" he began "you sure you're alright."

"Fine." His grin was as phony as a Cracker Jack ring.

"You don't look fine."

"It's just been a rough night" Neal conceded softly. Peter laughed briefly at the understatement.

"I'll say." He regarded the younger man sharply. He was pale and still seemed a little out of breath. Not that Peter entirely blamed him… he still felt like he was trying to catch his own breath after the adrenalin rush earlier, and he hadn't been held hostage or slung over a man mountain's shoulder…or shot. "How's the arm?"

"Not going to fall off." Neal sighed "did they give you a prognosis on McFerrin?"

"EMTs wouldn't say…he looked pretty bad but he was still breathing when they took him. That's a good sign. Let me see the arm, Neal"

"Nate is really shaken up." Deep concern filled the words, blue eyes traveling to the stairs the little boy just vanished up, but it was still a redirect.

"It's a lot for a little kid to process… but if he's anything like you, he'll be ok. Now stop stalling. Let. Me. See. Your. Arm."

"Peter I'm-."

"Fine? Probably but someone is going to have to look at it eventually, might as well be now. You know as well as I do at the very least it's going to need stitches." He nodded to the fresh blood on Neal's hand

"Probably." Neal's stiff posture deflated a little as he agreed. "You can look…"

"Thank you. You want to pull off the shirt or should I just tear the sleeve." The shoulder under his hand pulled up in a tiny shrug.

"It's probably beyond saving…" Neal's eyes scrutinized the shirt ruefully. "It's a shame… it was a nice shirt." Another small shrug, but he flinched slightly when Peter ripped the fabric. Neal was silent while the older man gently probed the wound, though he winced and sucked in a ragged breath. "So what's the verdict… is the arm salvageable?" Peter smiled at him but concern was growing in him. He carefully turned the arm, his brows drawing together tightly.

"Yeah but…" he met his friend's eyes "you know a trip to the ER is in your immediate future, right?

"So you're a fortune teller now?" He grinned wanly at his friend, but it faded when he met Peter's serious gaze.

"No… but there is no exit wound, which means the bullet is still somewhere in your muscle…" he turned the arm gently back to its natural position "I'm not an expert but I don't think it hit the bone and it's not bleeding to badly but…I'd rather a professional confirm that."

"No ambulance… I don't want Nate to see that. He's scared enough as it is." He looked at his friend strangely when Peter chuckled softly and shook his head. "What?"

"Never pictured you as such a protective father."

"Circumstances have a way of surprising us."

Peter nodded in agreement. He had plenty of experience with that.

"Ok no ambulance… I'll drive you." Neal sighed but he didn't argue. Peter assumed that was improvement. "Can you stand…" he hesitated "Last time I saw you…"

"I can but I need…" he gestured vaguely at the crutches fallen out of reach on the floor.

"That's going to be complicated, considering" he looked pointedly at the injured arm.

"So is not getting blood on your rental car."

"Do you have a car?

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

"Ok, Wendy, sweet heart I'll be home in a couple of hours." Karl assured his wife gently. "I'm with a friend. He was in danger… as soon as I'm sure he's ok, I'll be home and I promise I'll tell you all about the secrets I've been keeping, tomorrow. I love you…"with a sigh he disconnected as he parked the car outside Dessert Samaritan hospital. At least she was still talking to him… though he knew she suspected him of cheating on her… who wouldn't with the sudden increase in late nights and odd hours. He stepped out of the vehicle and moved to help the two men moving slowly toward the ER door.

"How you holding up?" he heard the older man ask. The younger man shot him a resigned glare.

"I'll live" he ground through clenched teeth. After a moment he continued "ankle hurts more than…" Burke chuckled and Karl found himself grinning despite his concern.

"Wait until tomorrow."

"I remember…" his lips twitched up slightly.

Karl waited while they checked in at the desk, the waiting room was swamped, he noticed but he was still surprised when Mike… or whoever he really was, sank into a chair a few seats away and wearily leaned his head against the wall to wait. He raised his eyebrow questioningly at the older agent.

"They usually take a GSW in right away."

"He's on his feet… guess they figure he's ok." He sighed then and glanced at his friend, worry etched in every line of his face. "But they don't know how much tougher he is than he looks."

"He's impressive I'll give him that." Karl watched the young man shift in the hard plastic seat trying to get comfortable. "I'm pretty sure I would be a lot less calm if it were me over there."

"Looking calm in every possible situation is Neal's specialty."

"So that's his real name?"

"It is." Burke looked him over… sizing him up.

"Mike Hamilton came from the Marshals, I suppose, but the rest…" Karl shrugged letting his bewilderment show "I suspected he was an FBI agent… he knows so much about our procedures… but he's not, is he?"

"No… but he's my CI… he's the best there is at what he does." Karl was surprised to realize he felt betrayed by Burke's revelation

"And what he does is…?" Karl watched Burke's face as he sighed and rubbed his forehead

"It's a long list."

"You know I'm right here right?" Blue eyes turned back to them with a tired but amused smile.

"We haven't forgotten" Burke assured him with a slightly stiff grin "I noticed the woman in the corner sizing you up."

"Well when you've got it, you've got it." He sounded more drained than cocky but it made the older man's eyes soften affectionately.

"What is it with you and women?" Neal didn't answer just tapped his head knowingly before turning his face away again.

"So he's a criminal?" Karl kept his voice low this time, but he couldn't keep the edge out of his tone.

"Convicted of bond forgery six years ago." Burke answered calmly, matter-of-factly.

"I see" Karl stared at the young man across the aisle. His thoughts swirled violently. The thought that he had blindly trusted a criminal with countless case files over the last four months made him vaguely sick. He had opened his career up to a man with no idea who he was. A hundred possibilities floated through his mind… none of them pleasant. He felt Burke's stare before he turned to meet his gaze.

"Young…I know what you're thinking. I went through the same thoughts before I made the deal with him. Did he ever actually tell you he used to be an FBI agent?"

"No… he just… didn't strike me as a literature teacher. And he knew so much about procedure and undercover work and stakeouts…"

"And now you feel like he deceived you…because he's one of the bad guys?"

"Yes… and I know I'm the one who assumed but that doesn't change what he is… and that I trusted him with my cases."

"If it helps he is not really one of the bad guys… not really. Will he ever be an honest citizen…? Who knows, but he is loyal to the people he cares about. The kind of loyalty that steps between a friend and a gun without a thought." Karl thought about that… earlier he thought Neal's stumble that knocked him over had been pure accident but what if… he felt the hand on his shoulder when they went down… Neal's left arm across his chest as they fell…which meant that bullet would have…Karl gulped convulsively, the train of thought left his mind even more twisted and confused. It took a few moments to collect himself enough to speak.

"That man tonight… Richards, he said somethings…" he needed a change of subject… needed to get the full picture of the man not an emotional reaction…

"Accused Neal of killing his daughter?"

"Yeah."

"He didn't. Meagan Richards died of mesothelioma… because her father exposed her to asbestos… he was looking for a scape goat."

"He didn't deny it." To Karl's surprise Burke swore sharply, surging upward in his seat. "What does that mean?"

"It means… D*** it! It means she got to him before he left. I'm going to ..." Burke turned to stare at the young man who appeared to be dozing restlessly now. "He had nothing to do with that girl dying, but Richards killed a young agent in New York… the kid's superior was determined that Neal was responsible somehow. She wanted to start throwing accusations at him while he was still…"Burkes shuddered faintly at the memory. With that he rose swiftly and moved to sit beside the young man, shaking his arm gently to rouse him. Karl watched Burke clap a reassuring hand on Neal's shoulder, offering words of consolation that didn't carry to the younger agent. The hushed conversation was interrupted by a nurse calling Neal's name. Despite his confusion Karl itched to help the man as he struggled to rise. Before he could move the older agent wrapped his arm around his friend and helped him up. Karl noticed Burkes' arm tighten instinctively just before Neal's left leg tried to buckle. He sighed and sat back to wait for them.

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

He sighed and lay back on the exam table tucking his good arm behind his head, closing his eyes again… it might still be a while before the doctor got to him and this day was starting to get to him.

"Hey" Peter's voice broke through his thoughts "you still doing ok?"

"Yeah, fine" he shifted slightly to look at his friend, he hated to admit how much he missed that worried glare. "A little tired" he conceded.

"Not sure that's really a good sign."

"It's been a really long day that started before four am… I think it's normal."

"Neal." There was a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"I'm ok."

"They are going to put you under… you know that right?"

"I'm looking forward to it. Being awake while someone digs around inside your skin for a tiny piece of metal… not fun. Not a trick I care to repeat." He shifted and closed his eyes again.

"Can't say I blame you for that." Peter's attempt not to laugh filled his voice. "But that wasn't my point." His tone turned serious. "Last time… when Richards… there was quite a bit of organ damage… the doctor here should know about that before they give you anything." Without looking he felt the brown eyes watching him protectively. The curtain shifting forced him to open his eyes.

"Hello Mr. Caffrey" Dark eyes sparkled at him "how are you doing…? I'm Valerie. I'm just going to a quick preliminary exam, then the doctor should be right in. Can you sit up for me?" Neal complied with a smile for the young woman… though he was surprised when the room wavered momentarily. His friend's eyes bored into him and he didn't doubt Peter saw the moment of dizziness. The girl chatted lightly as she wrapped the cuff around his right arm and clipped the oxygen monitor on his finger. "I need you to sit still while they get a reading" she gave his swinging leg a pointed look, then gestured playfully with the thermometer. "Temperature too…So Mr. Caffrey how does a man like you get clipped by a bullet. You don't come across as the gun type."

"It's Neal… and I am definitely not, but some people don't seem to get that message." He grinned

"A trouble magnet, huh?" she frowned slightly when she listened to his lungs

"Problem?" Peter broke in

"Not a major one." The girl regarded Neal a moment, he gave her a questioning look "I'm not hearing as much air moving in your lungs as I'd expect. I'm sure it's nothing. Can you take some deep breaths for me, please?" He obeyed and her frown deepened momentarily. The blood pressure machine beeped it was finished and she glanced at the readings… looked again and made a quick note. "May I see your arm?" Her tone stayed polite and calm but something had shifted in her demeanor… both men could see it.

"Sure." Neal agreed. She quickly cut away the first aid kit bandage. Then she gave him a strange look.

"The file said it was a graze…" she looked at him sharply "that is not a graze." Peter glared at him.

"What? I didn't tell them that. You were with me when we talked to the front desk… in fact you did most of the talking." Valerie quickly rewrapped the arm with a shake of her head.

"I'll be right back" she disappeared quickly

"Well that was vaguely disturbing." Neal commented wryly.

"You're very funny." Peter was still watching him closely "but the professional is concerned which means… I am too."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"Neal…" at that moment Valerie returned with kind faced balding doctor in tow. After a brief greeting he examined him again.

"Is there a reason, Mr. Caffrey that your lungs wouldn't be filling normally?"

"Well…"

"Seven months ago his lungs were punctured in three places and seriously bruised… seven ribs were broken…" Peter broke in.

"I see." The doctor hesitated "that information changes your situation slightly… makes you a… higher risk patient. I'm going to ask you to lay back… and Valerie is going to start you on some oxygen for a few minutes. We need to get some x-rays but I'd like to get your saturation levels up a bit and your pulse down a little before we proceed. We are also going to start monitoring your condition carefully… I'm sure everything will be fine, so try to relax."

This time Neal did comment on his friend's worried look… he offered an apologetic shrug before he lay down.