"Morning," Neal said, walking straight to the conference room when he saw Peter and Jones there.
"Christie called," Peter replied.
"Oh. She ran the numbers through the hospital pharmacy?"
"She wanted me to ask you if you and Sara want to play doubles next weekend."
"Yeah, Caffrey, when you gonna cook me dinner? I like risotto."
Neal glanced at Jones with a chuckle and realized that Jones was hurt. Being single in a world of couples was not a funny thing, often being the fifth wheel. And in this case, Neal had had an agenda.
"Look at the two of you, trying to be funny. Don't we have a case to work?"
"We do," Peter agreed. "Turns out the numbers the source gave Helen match serial numbers of the sample packs of Zybax in the hospital database. But here's the thing. None of the samples are stocked in the pharmacies. P&V reps came in and swapped them out."
"Swapped them for what?" Jones asked.
"Zybax," Peter said, pulling a purple package out of a box. He dropped it and picked a blue Zybox instead. "Same drug, different packaging, different serial number."
"So what if Sullivan found out about a bad batch and did an undercover recall?"
"He traded dirty samples for clean ones," Jones continued.
"Right," Neal nodded. "To cover their tracks, P&V said it was new packaging. But even if the reps cleared out all the doctors' offices and hospitals, there's no way they got it all back."
"This is what Helen's source meant," Peter said. "There are people out there taking bad Zybax. It could kill them. But all of this is just a theory. P&V will bury us in a lawsuit unless we have proof."
"Then let's get proof."
"Got to love your optimism, Caffrey," Jones said.
"What?" Neal shrugged. "We'll find something." Peter and Jones sent him that glare he knew too well. "Legally, of course. If possible."
Peter's phone rang.
'If possible,' Peter repeated in his thoughts. Then his phone rang. It was Diana.
"Diana?" he answered.
"Helen and I are going to a launch party for Zybax this afternoon at P&V. Where she will be guided to a memo by her source."
"Sounds risky."
"You're kidding me? She said, 'Walking into a lion's den of corner offices and corporate hubris' with a smug grin on her face. She loves this. According to the source, the memo authorizes Zybax to be repackaged as part of a covert recall. It's signed by the head of new products."
"Paul Sullivan. We get the memo, we get him." Peter saw that the kid had a smug grin too.
"You know, Helen never invited an assistant anywhere," Diana said at the other end. "This is like an unofficial promotion."
"You realize you don't actually work for her?"
"Oh, but I do."
"Well, congratulations on your unofficial promotion. Stay close to Helen. Be careful. Whoever had her in their sights is still out there."
"I won't let anything happen to Helen."
"Oh, I know you'll take care of her. I'm worried about you."
"Don't be. I'm gonna walk out of the front door of P&V with everything we need to take them down."
She hung up. Neal was all smiles.
"A memo, eh? Legally obtained?"
"So it seems. If Helen gets it, that is."
"My gut's bothering me," Peter said, after approaching Neal's desk. Neal looked at his handler.
"Maybe you need some Zybax." Neal knew very well that Peter's gut was as good as his brain.
"Think I'll pass. By now, Helen's figured out the serial numbers are for the samples of Zybax. She's on her way to get the memo."
"She strikes me as the type of person who will do whatever it takes to get what she needs."
"That's what's bothering me," Peter said. "Sullivan knows she's looking into P&V."
"And whatever he's hiding, she's gonna come after it." Neal sensed that there was a layer to all this that Helen might have missed, walking into P&V launch party.
"If a P&V employee knows about the Zybax cover-up," Peter said, "starts feeding Helen intel—"
"She picks up the trail, Sullivan follows her all the way to the source."
"If the meet happens at the launch party, the source could be exposed." With so much money involved, who knew what these people were capable of?
"Hey, guys," Jones came up to them. "We did some further work on that redacted document and were able to identify the signature at the bottom." He handed them copies of the result.
"We just found our source," Peter grinned when they both saw the signature. "Casey Mendell."
"Head of R&D," Neal grinned. This was good.
"Let's go talk to him. Jones, call Diana. Let her know."
Peter answered Diana's call. He could hear party music in the background.
"Yeah?"
"I have eyes on Helen. I got a look at the guest list. Casey Mendell is not at this party."
"He's not in his office," Peter told her. "We're on our way to his house." He hung up as he saw an ambulance and police where he was heading. He parked, and he and the kid left. Peter flashed his badge to get passed them.
"That's Mendell's building," the kid pointed out. Peter stopped a couple of paramedics leaving.
"Hey, FBI. What's going on here?"
"Lady got home from work, found her husband on the floor, called us. It was too late. Must've died this morning."
"Casey Mendell?"
"Yeah."
Peter grabbed for his phone. If they were ready to kill Mendell they would not hesitate to kill Helen. Or Diana. He and the kid ran toward the car.
"Hello?" she answered.
"It's a setup! Mendell's dead. Whoever contacted Helen pretended to be her source."
"Excuse me." Peter thought at first that she had not heard, but she had spoken to someone else. "Damn it, Peter. Helen's gone."
"We're on our way."
They got the car going, and even though he drove fast, the minutes were never as slow as when lives were at stake.
Diana called again. Neal answered and put her on speaker.
"I've found her, Peter," she whispered. "They lured her into a room. Twenty-six forty-two. The room has a glass door, I have eyes on her." She hung up.
Peter and Neal got the last bit and ran out of the car and crashed into the party, jogging upstairs to find the room Diana said.
The glass to the door was shattered.
In the hole, he saw Diana with her gun ready, if not aimed at someone. And Helen.
"Peter," she said. "Good. I'm not allowed to frisk him." She nodded at a man standing with his hands on his back, cuffed. Peter was not that surprised to see that it was Sullivan's counsel, Mr. Carter.
"Glad to see you're both alive and well," he said, smiling at the two women. Diana put her gun away, and Peter frisked Carter.
"I'm ashamed I was so easily fooled," Helen said. "I should've known better."
Diana shook her head.
"It's impossible to tell sometimes. That's why a federal agent never goes alone. That was your mistake."
Helen nodded. Then she smiled.
"'Drop it, or I'll put a bullet in each kneecap.' You must have loved to say that."
"As much as you love chasing dangerous stories."
Neal watched Diana enter the office. They smiled at each other and she sat down at her desk with something looking like awe.
Peter joined her.
"Talked to my buddy at the FDA," he said. "Turns out the bad Zybax causes brain hemorrhages if taken with certain medications."
"P&V figured they'd shut down Mendell and Helen, then roll the dice on any medication still out there," Diana said. "Settling lawsuits would've been cheaper than a recall."
"Mm. Well, at least the drug's off the market, and we've got Carter and Sullivan on conspiracy to commit murder. Any chance of getting that case report by the end of the day?"
"If I can get it to you by lunch, can I go to that tech conference in Miami?"
"By lunch? Sure."
Peter moved to leave, but to Neal's enjoyment, Diana pushed her chair, blocking his way, holding out a case report file.
"Miami's gonna feel so good in November."
Peter took the file with a chuckle and left for his office room. Neal walked to the shelves to find a binder.
Then Diana saw something by the elevators, and Neal turned his head too, only to see Helen coming in. Diana walked to meet her.
"You know," Helen said, "just the other day, I wondered, 'Where have all the boy scouts gone?'"
"There are some girl scouts here, too."
"Diana," she said, taking her sunglasses off, "a woman like you shouldn't be surrounded by florescent lights and old spice. You are the best assistant I have ever had.
I want you back. Whatever they pay you here, I will pay more than double."
"I don't need a byline," Diana said. "In my interview, I told you I knew who I was and where I wanted to be. That's right here."
"I dedicated my article to Casey Mendell. But I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for you."
"You should hire your old assistant back. She's the one who saved your life."
"I have a deadline."
"Goodbye, Helen."
Neal watched the two women's goodbyes. Diana, already an established agent, seemed to have grown several inches.
Neal took a magnet and a coin and made the coin slide up the bookshelf, like the coin moving in Ghost.
"It's amazing. The love inside. You take it with you," he whispered from behind the self. He popped out. "Come on. Who am I?"
"You in danger, boy."
But she was not angry at all. They laughed.
"'Ghost' quotes?" Peter asked, who came out of nowhere. "Neal, if you know how Diana and Christie met, you are officially part of the family."
Neal stopped dead in his tracks. This was not finding a photo of Peter with a mustache as he had thought it would be. Peter had just given him a place in the White Collar office in a way he never officially did before. He had called it a family, the close circle. And here he was standing, planning to leave.
Neal's phone rang.
It was Moz. He watched Peter and Diana move out of hearing distance before he answered.
"Hey."
"Neal, we got a problem!"
"You at the airport?"
"Of course. I said I'd follow Melissa, and I did, all the way to the airport. She took an earlier flight!"
"You're saying the list is gone?"
"I'm watching it take off right now."
"All right, take a breath, Moz," he said moving back to his desk.
"Breath? The list is on its way to D.C.! Neal, how did this happen?!"
"Neal..." Peter said from the stairs. "You coming?"
Neal looked at Peter. He knew by the smile that Peter knew exactly what had happened. He knew that Peter knew. How had he ever thought it would be any different?
"I got to go," he told Moz and hung up.
He was not in cuffs, so Peter had nothing on him. He had just told him he was part of the family and robbed him of the possibility of selling the art. Would he let him off the hook? No, Neal was sure of it. The man was excited to have another chase. If Neal did not do anything, they would both win. But could he sit there just watching the art on a webcam?
"'Ghost' quotes?" Peter asked. He grinned. "Neal, if you know how Diana and Christie met, you are officially part of the family." Why else would Neal quote Ghost? He was happy for Neal. He liked the kid, wanted him around, and wanted him to know that he was welcome to stay. If Neal had the treasure, he would have the means not to stay, and anything that kept the kid in New York by his side, at least until the sentence was ended, was a good thing.
He strolled away with Diana by his side.
"Caffrey was at my place," she mumbled, "but there was nothing for him to find."
"I talked with agent Matthews," Peter said in low voice. "The list has never been out of her sight."
He heard the kid's cell phone ring.
"So it's safe?"
"Yeah. I made sure it stays that way."
He walked up the stairs and looking at the kid. He could bet it was a secret call, which was unpleasant.
"Neal?" he called him "You coming?" The look he got from the kid. It exposed panic. If that call were not about the list that had just disappeared before his eyes, then he would be surprised. So the kid had at least part of the treasure, and the treasure had survived the fire.
It saddened him, but he did not want to fight with the kid about it. Nothing he would say would ever keep Neal away from it. But now, at least he had prevented a rash move of selling some of it and escaping. That was his primary goal right now.
"I got to go," the kid said to the guy - his little buddy probably - at the other end, still looking at him. It was bitter-sweet. He felt the thrill of a new game between them, but one that would end their partnership. Either Neal would go to prison, or he would escape. Peter, in his heart, heard Neal's words: "there's always another way." What if he could make him stay?
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