"Team one in position on the stairs," Jones told them over the radio.
"Thanks, Jones," Diana replied. "We're moving in."
Peter walked towards the main doors of the building with Neal and Diana when his pet convict reached forward to open the door for them.
"I got it."
Peter stared at what he saw in the kid's inner pocket. He pulled out the set of lockpicks.
"What are you planning to do with this?"
"Always be prepared, right?"
That smile. And the reason why they were there.
"Right," Peter hissed and grabbed his arm, leading him inside.
"FBI. We have a warrant to search the penthouse," Diana said at the reception, showing her badge.
"Agent Peter Burke," Peter said, walking up beside her. "I have a hostile witness on my hands. Do you have a storage room or an office that I can borrow while I'm conducting my business upstairs?"
The two guards in the reception nodded.
"Yes, sir," the older of them said. "Right over there. I'll show you."
He opened the door to Peter, who glanced inside. An empty room, except for a chair. No windows. Perfect. He sowed Neal inside.
"Oh, come on, Peter!" he wined. "You cannot lock me in here."
Peter did and made sure the door was locked.
"Watch me," he smiled to himself. He walked up to the gents behind the desk. "Under no circumstances is he to leave. He has no medical condition, he's had enough water, and he's been to the bathroom. If he calls you, don't answer. If he requests anything, don't acquiesce. Am I clear? I am the only person to open that door. I'll be back down later."
"Everything okay with Neal?" Diana asked when he joined her by the elevators.
"He won't be going anywhere."
They entered the elevator, and the doors closed. Peter felt grumpy and successful at the same time. His partnership with one of the smartest people in the world was about to end, which made him sad, and still, he had outsmarted whatever plan the young man had had.
The elevator stopped.
"What the hell?" No doors opened. It was just standing still between two and three.
Diana pushed 43 again. Nothing happened.
"We're stuck," she sighed. "Jones, we've got a delay. Stand by."
"Call down to the guards," Peter said and pointed at the intercom on the elevator panel. "We need this elevator moving immediately."
Diana pressed the call button. It didn't take long before someone answered.
"Any problems?" a voice asked.
"Yeah, we're stuck."
"Are you sure?"
"What?!"
"Are you kidding me?" Peter said. "Yes, we're sure. Get this elevator moving. Come on."
"You'll have to be patient. This could take a second."
In Peter's experience, 'take a second' could be anything from five minutes to an hour.
"Get this elevator moving. Come on!"
There was silence at the other end. Peter sighed as he heard another carriage pass them. So the whole system was not down, just their elevator.
"Get us up or get us down," Diana called to them. "I don't care what you do; just get us out of this elevator now."
"You don't understand," the man at the other end said. "I'm rebooting the system, ma'am. It takes time to initialize."
"Get it done!"
"Relax," Peter mumbled. "Richmond isn't going anywhere. He's expecting us." He glanced at his watch. One minute felt utterly long when you were stuck in an elevator.
"How much time left?" Diana called them again.
"I don't know, ma'am. It takes the time it takes."
Diana mumbled a curse. She moved restlessly.
"I didn't know you had problems with small spaces."
"It's not the size of the space. It's the loss of control."
There was not much Peter could say about that. Diana was not losing control over herself, at least.
Then, the elevator jerked to life.
"Finally!" She relaxed at once. "Jones, we're on our way."
"Roger that," Jones replied.
Peter glanced at his watch. Five minutes, or maybe six. Jones had to walk all the 43 floors. They were stuck in an elevator for a few minutes.
They got out of the elevator and rang the doorbell.
"Coming!" They heard a voice on the other side. The door opened. "Come on in."
"After you," Peter said, letting Diana in first. They walked inside and into the totally oversized living room with a spectacular view.
"You didn't bring the guns?" Richmond asked.
"No," Peter said. "We brought this warrant instead." He held it up as Diana showed her badge. "Peter Burke, FBI."
Richmond did not say a word. He just made a face.
"Jones, we're clear," Diana said over the radio. "Elliott Richmond, you're under arrest for illegal arms trafficking."
While Diana cuffed Richmond, Peter went to a specific painting. He did what Richmond had done when they made the deal yesterday. He unhooked it and put it upside-down on the marble desk. Yesterday, Richmond had lifted a corner of the paper covering the back and revealed what he claimed was a Degas hidden behind it. Now, Peter had to be more careful to make sure the painting remained functional as evidence, not only in the Richmond case, but also when it came to Neal.
If the painting was a real Degas and, therefore, their lost submarine painting, that was.
He made sure the necessary pictures were taken, and then, with gloved hands, he removed the whole dust cover and saw the Degas. The one he had seen on the sub. Or at least he thought so.
He rolled it up and placed it in a tube.
It was time to pick up his pet convict.
He took the elevator down without issues and opened the door to the little room. A bored Neal sat on the chair.
"Took you a while. Run into some problems?"
"Richmond went down without a fight," Peter said, holding up the roll. The kid's eyes lit with excitement.
"You found it."
"Don't jump to any conclusions. Kramer still needs to weigh in."
Neal got to his feet.
"All right." He walked past him and then stopped, facing Peter. "Oh, shall we go back to the office as we got here?"
"Yep."
"You don't want to cuff me or anything?"
"I sure want to," Peter grinned, "but do I have a valid reason?"
"You just locked me up for no reason."
"I had a reason."
"Oh, now I remember," the kid said with a voice that was sharp as a razor, "a set of lock picks makes me a hostile witness."
Neal put his ear to the door and heard Peter´s footsteps leave. He heard Peter hold a little speech for the guards and then silence. He fished up his earpiece and put it in.
"You there, Moz?"
"No names, Nea— Oops."
"Got it," Neal grinned. From the band around his hat, he took out a few well-chosen lock picks.
"Operation Fedibuster is in play," Moz said a few moments later, and Neal started to work on the door. It was not complicated.
"All right. Tell me when." He was ready, waiting with his hand on the handle. Mozzie had control over the elevators and should also see the feeds from the security cameras.
Five seconds later, Mozzie said:
"Now!"
Neal opened and glanced at the desk where only one of the guards was still around, and he was standing with the back to him, talking on the phone.
"You'll have to be patient. This could take a second."
Neal bent down and walked past the desk.
"Opening door now," Moz said, and Neal saw an elevator door slide open. "Neal, hurry up."
Then Neal ran and slid the last into the elevator, dropping his hat. It was no good idea to leave that behind. As the door closed, he shot out his arm to grab it. He got it inside just in time.
Mozzie exhaled.
"That was close. The guard must have heard you, but he never saw anyone."
"It got my pulse going," Neal said, grinning to the camera. With Peter and Diana stuck in their elevator, he would be at the penthouse before them, but how many minutes would he get? He could walk right into the arms of the owner.
He exited the elevator and tried the door to Richmond. The gods must be smiling at him because it was unlocked. He opened a little and listened, and then peeked inside. No one was near.
He got inside.
"Hey, you know where he hid the painting?"
Neal looked around.
"I have an idea." There was one big painting, a Kandinsky, hanging in the room's best spot. He took it down and placed it upside down on a table, and lifted the dust cover. It was loose. And behind it…
"Found it."
"Hurry, Neal. Your time is running out."
He had no time to admire the Degas. He hurried to the bazooka Moz had delivered just an hour before and took his fake from inside it.
"Neal, get out of there!"
No, not yet. He rolled the original up and placed it in a tube hidden in the bazooka case. He put his version where the original had been and replaced the dust cover. He put the painting back on the wall.
"They've reached the penthouse. Get out of there!"
He pulled the little parachute out from under the foam inside the case just as the doorbell rang.
"Coming!" Richmond replied and entered the room as Neal opened the door to the balcony. Neal saw through the glass how Diana walked ahead of Peter into the room. Peter, who would never trust him and always see him as a conman and a convict. He strapped the parachute on.
"Neal, Peter, and Diana are with Richmond," Mozzie reported. "I'm getting out of here. Good luck."
"See you on the other side, Moz."
He made sure the painting was secured in the strapping on the back. Then he climbed the railing.
He dropped the hat to get a feel for the winds, and he watched it tumble down towards the street 43 floors below. Then he let go of the railing and jumped. He had calculated that it was time to pull the string when he passed the rooftop of the opposite house, but as the street rushed towards him, he had to fight to keep his cool. Then he pulled the string, and his fall slowed down, and he landed at perfect speed, so he continued the movement, walking without stopping.
He took off the parachute and handed the tube with the painting to a passing Mozzie.
"I nailed the landing."
"I need a drink," his friend said.
Now it was to get back inside the room without knowing the timespan and not going through the door since the guards now likely had their focus on the entrance. But Neal had planned that too and knew how to reach the room behind it, in the store next door. From where he would pass into the other room by passing the inner ceiling. It was not good enough for long transports, but he was just crossing a wall.
As he slid down on the floor, he heard the bell from the elevator. He had no time to get the inner ceiling right. He slung himself into the chair and hoped for the best.