Peter was getting annoyed. He liked punctuality for a start, but for crooks being late, it was outright a lack of respect. Now, the man did not know that Neal was working for the feds and did not know he did not show enough respect. And if he did, he would probably not respect the FBI in the first place. Peter sighed, tapping the steering wheel of his car, watching himself getting older in the windshield's reflection.

"Your guy's very late."

"He'll show," the kid said. "Hale is very reliable."

Peter tapped his finger again, his ring making a distinctive sound against the plastic. It seemed to annoy Neal.

"You and Sara?" he asked, to pass the time.

"Yes. Me and Sara."

"Over?"

"Yes."

"So what I witnessed...?"

"Return of the breakup bag."

"All right." Peter was no fool. He knew this was not a favorite subject of his pet convict. He also knew it was none of his business, but… "What happened to you guys? And don't give me the 'we're just different people' routine."

"We. Are. Very. Different people," Neal made unmistakably clear. "Not everybody can be Peter and Elizabeth, okay?"

Yeah, he was a fortunate man to have El as his wife.

"Ah, speaking of, since Hale's running late —" He called on the handsfree.

"Hey, honey. How's the stakeout going?" El answered.

"Uh, that's why I'm calling. Looks like it's running longer than expected."

"Oh, no."

"I hate to say this, but I don't think we're gonna be able to make Tray and Sheila's barbecue tonight."

"Wow, that's too bad, 'cause I was ready to walk out the door."

"Aw, I'm sure you were." He turned to Neal and whispered. "She can't stand Tray and Sheila." Neal grinned. "But, you know, you could go without me, unless, of course, you're already settled in with a cup of tea and a new book."

"I know thee well, as well, which means you're gonna make up for canceling on me when you get home, mister."

Peter blushed, and Neal's mouth was a big happy O of surprise.

"Oh, honey, do you know you're on speaker?"

"Oh… Hi, Neal."

"Hi, Elizabeth."

"All right, well, crack this case soon, will you?" El said.

"We will," the kid answered. "We both will—"

"Sorry, El. Got to go," Peter said.

"Okay. Well, you owe me."

"Okay. Love you." Peter ended the call.

The kid looked at him.

"Why'd you cut me off?"

"Well, I just didn't want you talking with El about the case."

"Oh. By 'the case,' you mean you don't want me to mention Keller?"

He got it spot on, as usual.

"She got pretty riled up after I was taken. There's no need to mention Keller's name to her when we don't even know yet if he's on the continent." He saw Neal's focus on something. An elegant woman walked to the café they were watching. "Ahh. There's Raquel. Love how she picked a mob hangout."

"Safest cafe in the city."

They exited the car and strolled closer.

"She won't stay here long," Peter said. "Any way of contacting Hale?"

"I paged him," Neal said.

"Old school."

"Yeah. You'd like him."

"Mm." Peter watched Raquel. "I don't want to lose her. She's our only link to Keller."

"Hale's already laid the groundwork," the kid said, always having a plan B "She knows she's meeting me. Let me make the approach. Then you try to bust us. Once we successfully evade your evil clutches, I'll gain her confidence."

"That's a plan," Peter agreed. But it was too easy to fake a bust, and she would get suspicious. And he did not trust the kid's plans. So often, they had more than one layer. "Or... You make the approach, I arrest both of you, and release you two together after a grueling interrogation. When she sees you didn't flip on her, she'll embrace you in her evil circle of trust."

"Yeah…" Neal jammed his hands in his pockets. "Early in a relationship, it's better to experience a win."

"Okay. Tell you what. When you're an FBI agent, and I'm the ward of the federal prison system, we'll do it your way."

"All this time, I thought we were partners."

"We are," Peter assured him. "It's just, tie always goes to me." Neal picked up a pair of glasses and put them on. "You ready?"

"You're the boss."

Neal walked towards the café.

"Diana, Neal's making his approach."

Neal was not keen on the idea of being pushed up against a car and cuffed, but if that was the plan, it was the plan. And for whatever reason Peter had for not liking his idea of a plan, Peter would be responsible for the result.

He walked up to Raquel. She noted him and did not object when he sat down by her table.

"'Hail my heart," she said as if reading from the book she held. "Hail my heart. Hail my transformation,'"

"Book of the Dead, Chapter 30B."

"I'm impressed."

"It's inscribed on the back of a 3,500-year-old scarab amulet, recently removed from the Egyptian National Museum."

"You know that, and yet no Hale. Our friend told you a lot more than he should have."

Hale had not told him that, but it mattered little. He could use that in his favor.

"He trusts me."

"Then where is he?"

"He'll show."

A waitress placed her order on the table.

"Thank you."

"May I see the piece?" Neal asked.

"You think I'd bring it on a first date? I still have half a mind to kill you."

"I'd rather you didn't. But if you do..." He leaned across the table, getting closer, turning the charm on. "...I'd really like to see the amulet of the lost pharaoh before I go."

"Why don't we start with this?" she said and discretely placed a package in cloth on the table. He unpacked it with the same low profile. He held a shabti, a small figure of a pharao, in his hands.

"Egyptian faïence... composed of crushed quartz, sand, calcite, lime, and alkalies."

"I'd describe it as a late Middle Kingdom shabti, buried with the pharaohs to protect them in an afterlife."

"It's not the Middle Kingdom," Neal said. "The plaster's modern, and it has a higher calcium content, probably to protect whatever's inside it."

"It's very hard to get to what's inside."

"I could put together a restoring process in an afternoon."

"I like your confidence and your passion. But I still need to talk to Hale. Until then…" She took the shabti back and made herself ready to leave.

"We're both walking into the unknown without Hale. But sometimes you trust your instinct."

"My instinct says walk away."

Neal sighed as she rose. Then he saw Diana exit from a gate, walking towards them.

"I see you brought company," he said. She looked around. Diana from one direction, Peter from the other.

"The feds."

"Yeah. What's our story?"

"I'm not talking to them. Not with Airport Shabti on me."

And there, Peter's plan would fail. It would not work if she escaped and he got caught.

"All right. I'll get us out of here. Come on."

Peter approached and put his hand inside his suit to bring out his badge. But then Neal rose too and took Raquel's hand and started to walk inside the café with her. He stared and saw Neal making a face he did not understand.

"Feds," the kid said to everyone he passed. "FBI raid. Raid."

Before he had time to reach the door, he had three sturdy guys blocking his way.

"Whoa, whoa. What is this? I'm trying to have a nice lunch here."

"I'm in the middle of my rigatoni!"

"We're not here for you, all right?" Peter tried to push himself through, in vain.

"There you go. Then take me, officer."

"Don't take him. He's nobody. Forget him."

"Nobody? Watch your mouth."

Peter glanced into the café and saw no sign of the couple. He turned away from the argument.

"The tie was supposed to go to me."

"What, boss?"

"Is it illegal to barbecue someone alive in this state?"

"For Neal, I'm sure they will bend the rules as much as he does."

"You're resourceful," Raquel said as they were two blocks away and no feds following.

"Team effort. You picked the cafe." If it had not been a mob café, it would not have gone as smoothly as it had.

"Still, my last partner— "

"Partner?"

"Restoration tech," Raquel made clear. "He created the molds around these pieces in Egypt."

"What happened to him?"

"Well, he wasn't as resourceful as you are. He'll be in an Egyptian prison for a long time."

"Well, at least he shipped you the amulet before he was arrested."

"So he says. No way of knowing until we unwrap it." She turned towards the street. "Taxi!" A car stopped beside the sidewalk. She opened the door. "Keep your schedule open. I'll let you know when and where."

"How can I get in touch?"

"You can't." And she was gone.