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Sorry for keeping you waiting for this second to last chapter (I will post the conclusion, along with a short epilogue, right after this one). WCBB has taken over my mind, but I finally got enough grey matter back under my control to finish this one here. Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
New York Harbor
McDonald’s pub
In all his years of existence on this Earth, Allen McDonald never ever had seen something even closely to the sight in front of his eyes right now. The young man wolfed down the simple meal, consisting of two slices of bread, a bit of cheese and some pieces of sausage, which McDonald had put together for him. The bottle of water already was gone, and he already was way into the second.
“So, son, what happened to you?”
Ever since finding him in the storage, McDonald tried to keep his voice calm and even. The last thing he needed was that the young man got frightened and hightailed it out of here to God knows where.
Neal looked up, eyeing the older man with just a hint of suspicion.
“Bad days.”
Not sure if this wasn’t just another trick his second kidnapper played on him, Neal tried to keep to himself as much as possible.
“Oh, that I can see.” McDonald made a gesture, indicating the torn clothes still hanging on Neal’s lean frame. “What I want to know is what led to that?”
“As I said, bad days.”
The last days in captivity made Neal even more suspicious than ever before. And somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice reminded him of Mozzie and his paranoia. Which in turn gave Neal an idea.
“Sir, you don’t have phone around here?”
McDonald gave a light chuckle, causing Neal’s eyebrows to rise.
“Of course I have a phone around here, silly.” He retrieved his mobile from a pocket and slid it over to Neal. “On one condition – what’s your name?”
Neal only hesitated for a second before grabbing the phone.
“Neal, Neal Caffrey.”
“Nice to meet you, Neal.” McDonald got up from his seat opposite Neal. “While you call whoever you need to call, I go and see if there’s anything left from my son we could get you in, okay?”
Neal only nodded, his mind already occupied by the decision on who to call. He more felt than saw McDonald leave and finally pushed the buttons for a familiar number.
When the person answered after the second ring, it was already like coming home for Neal.
“Hey, June.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FBI Building
White Collar offices
From the moment Peter presented the data about the manipulation on Neal’s anklet to Hughes, Bancroft and Roe, the number of agents actually working this particular case was thinned out, until only Peter, Diana, Jones (who was back from the hospital), Wesley and Blake were remaining. Even though they decided it was just a precautionary measure, they couldn’t take the risk, not now.
After clearing that, Jones and Blake went to dig around in Fowler’s recent history, including his escape from Rikers and whatever he was up to afterwards. Diana, Bancroft and Wesley worked the Washington angle, with Roe providing any kind of assistance. Peter and Hughes went over the facts they already knew, trying to put the pieces of this crazy puzzle together.
Right now, Hughes was talking to his secretary to get them all some food, while Peter went through the NYPD reports about McKenzie’s body and its location, when a thought struck him. Grabbing the file, he hurried down the stairs, almost skidding to a stop at Jones’ desk.
“Jones!” The man, along with any agent in the vicinity, raised his head. “We have access to some satellites, right?”
“Yeah, Agent Roe gave us the possibility.” Clinton’s face changed from confusion to understanding. “You want me to check a certain area?”
“Yeah, New York Harbor, around the place where and the time when they found the body.” Jones began to type, and soon, they were looking at the Harbor area.
Agent Roe joined them, as well as Hughes, Diana and Blake.
“What do you think you will find with these images, Peter?” Hughes inquired, probably voicing the thoughts of all around.
“I just read the preliminary ME report on the body.” Peter held the report up. “He states that the body wasn’t in the water for long. So I think that they were close by. And I also think that we’re looking at the area where they keep, or kept, Neal captive all the time.”
“Agent Jones, there’s a possibility to add a thermal layer to the images,” Agent Roe told them, giving Clinton a piece of paper with some commands. Clinton typed them in, and only heartbeats later, the screen turned into an almost blue image – except for the gathering of the FBI, NYPD and CSU personnel in one corner.
“Can you zoom in on them?” Peter asked.
Jones did, and while the others were focused on their colleagues, Peter’s eyes inched down towards the bottom of the screen.
“What’s that?” He pointed to another yellow-red dot, a short distance away from the others.
“Somebody’s watching them,” Diana added.
“But who? Neal or Fowler?” Peter asked. They watched as this single point turned back from looking around the corner and somewhat slumped together.
“That’s Neal, I’m sure.”
Peter felt joy slowly spreading in his chest. Were they really this close to finally bringing him home to them? Without waiting for anyone to follow, Peter hurried out of the office, his mind already working on a plan to get them to the Harbor as quick as possible.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mozzie’s safe house
After delivering the news to Peter, all occupants were reduced to waiting. There was nothing they could do at the moment, except for praying for a small miracle. And so, it was more than understandable that they all almost jumped when all of a sudden June’s phone started to ring. She pulled it out of her bag, frowning when she couldn’t place the number flashing on the display.
“Hello?”
“Hello, June.”
“Neal!!” All the others huddled around her, trying to hear Neal’s voice with their own ears. Even Bugsy and Satchmo inched closer, sensing who might be on the other end of the line.
“Neal, wait a moment, I put you on speaker, okay?” Though her hands were slightly shaking from the joy she was experiencing, June managed the task pretty fast.
“Neal, honey, where are you?”
“Elizabeth, it’s so good to hear your voice. If I tell you, can you give the information to Peter asap? My second kidnapper is still at large around here, and I don’t want to run into him alone.”
“Of course, Neal.” Elizabeth swallowed thickly, tears of joy already threatening to spill out of her eyes.
“Neal, Sally and I try to make a conference call to Peter, so just stay on the line.”
“Moz! Looks like I miss kind of a party.”
Neal’s little joke had the effect he was aiming for – eliciting a chuckle from everyone, him included.
“Yeah, and as soon as we got you back, you will get your own,” Elizabeth promised.
“El, do you know anything about Sara? How’s she’s doing?”
“She’s pretty fine, as far as I know, but to be honest, I haven’t seen a lot of my husband, or any of the team for that matter, since the beginning of your case.”
Elizabeth tried to keep her voice even, and if a lie would do the job, well, so be it. It wasn’t a complete lie after all.
“Ok, Neal, we have Peter here,” Mozzie said.
“Mozzie, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until later?”
“What about me, Peter?” Neal spoke into the silence.
“NEAL!!!” They all heard tires squealing, and for a heartbeat, they all held their breath. Finally, Peter spoke up again.
“Next time a little warning, Mozzie.” They heard him breathing out deeply. “I almost have caused a collision.”
“Well, good thing you didn’t, hon.”
“Yeah.” Again, silence came from Peter’s side, and they all, including Neal, knew that he was trying to reign in his emotions. “Okay, Neal, where are you?”
“In a pub near the Harbor. But Peter, please do me a favor and be extra careful. My second kidnapper is still somewhere around here, and I don’t need you or any of the team getting hurt because of me.”
“Caffrey, nice of you to care for us, but getting hurt is pretty much part of the job description,” Diana piped up. “Stay put, we’re en route to you.”
“You heard that, Neal?” Peter inquired, a tinge of humor to his voice.
“Yeah, I did, Peter, and this makes it the third time you caught me.”
Both men hung up, and the inhabitants of the safe house started to celebrate by hugging each other, including the two dogs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Trinity Hospital
Sara’s room
The minute she saw the wide smile on Penelope’s face as she entered the room, Sara knew that finally something good was happening. With curiosity reaching new peaks inside of her, she barely waited till the other woman sat down next to her bed before firing her first question.
“Any news, Penelope?”
Pen looked up from her phone, the smile on her face spreading even further.
“Oh yeah, gumdrop.” If she saw the raised eyebrow on Sara’s face upon hearing yet another new nickname, she didn’t show. “But you have to wait a little bit longer for me to share them with you.”
“They have found Neal, right?”
“Wow, Clint didn’t exaggerate when he told me about your inquisitive character.” Pen slightly rolled her eyes. “Just a little bit longer, Sara, okay?” She got up again, heading over to the small stereo system Clint had set up for them, inserting another of her yoga CDs. “You know what, Sara?” She turned around. “We could kill some time with doing some super-easy Yoga exercises. What do you say?”
Sara couldn’t help but smile at the other woman. Agent Clinton Jones not only had a brilliant brain, he also seemed to have a good taste in choosing his friends.
“Yeah, though I have to warn you. I really can’t remember ever having done that,” Sara said with a smile while she got out of her bed.
“Ah, don’t worry. I myself just got started with that, so we have to go with what the lady on the CD instructs us to do.”
And so, the two women settled on the floor, listening to the instructions coming from the speakers and made their first real foray into the realms of Yoga.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
New York Harbor
By the time he finally reached the small pub, Garrett Fowler was furious. They had come so far in their game of revenge against Peter, Neal and the rest of the FBI here in New York, only to have a string of failures where he didn’t need them. First, John Deckard failed in killing Sara. Then, Bryan tried to complicate everything, and he had to kill him. And last but not least, Neal managed somehow to get away from him while he had to deposit Bryan’s body in the river. But, and that was a big but in Fowler’s book, Neal was weakened from the captivity, meaning that he couldn’t have gotten too far from the Harbor.
Sneaking around the house, Fowler peered inside through the windows, trying to spot the man he held personally responsible for his life going down the drain. If Neal just would have cooperated when Kate had asked him about the music box, she and Adler still would be alive, Larssen would still do his job – and most important, he himself would still have his corner office down in Washington.
“Looking for something?”
Fowler spun around – only to be met by the barrel of a hunting rifle. Holding the rifle was an old man, causing Fowler to not see him as a threat.
“Yeah, sorry to bother you, but have you seen a man coming down here? About 5’11’’, dark brown hair, blue eyes?”
“Nah, you’re the only one I’ve seen this fine morning,” Allen McDonald answered, his grey-green eyes fixed on this stranger. His gut told him that this fine specimen of a scumbag was somehow responsible for whatever happened to his young guest.
“You sure?” Fowler insisted, and McDonald could hear a bit of frustration in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m dead sure.” McDonald took a step back, his rifle still trained on Fowler. “I might be older than you, but I’m not blind nor deaf nor dumb.” He cocked the rifle. “And I suggest you better get lost, before I shoot you.”
As if on cue, several police cruisers and FBI-issued cars surrounded Fowler, making it impossible for him to escape.
“Fowler!” Peter’s voice carried over from his car. “Put the damn gun down!”
Only now Fowler noticed that he was pointing at the old man with his gun.
“He,” he waved in McDonald’s direction, “he came up to me with his rifle drawn. I’m just trying to protect myself, Burke.”
“Protect me, my ass,” Hughes said from his position near an SUV. “Garrett, you better do what Agent Burke has asked you to, or I will shoot you myself, just to get you out of my way.”
Hearing the coldness in Hughes’ voice made Fowler think twice about his next actions, but instead of being reasonable for a change and putting the gun down, as everyone expected him to do, he raised it – and finished himself off by putting a bullet into his brain.
Peter put his own gun back into the holster and went over to McDonald.
“Mister…”
“McDonald, Allen McDonald. At your service, sir.”
Peter had to chuckle. Apparently, Neal really had a knack for finding the right people in the worst situations.
“You’re looking for your boy, right?”
Peter almost did a double take. What on Earth had Neal told the man about them?
“Yeah, and I take it he’s here.”
“Yep, he’s here.” The sudden appearance of this new voice had almost everyone turning around, towards the main entrance of the pub.
Standing there in the doorway, in an outfit they all weren’t exactly used to see on him, and leaning heavily on the doorframe, was Neal, his trademark smile firm in place upon seeing the team.
Before Neal could even think about making a step towards them, Peter was in front of him, engulfing him in a bear hug, expressing his joy, his happiness through this action. Somewhat gingerly, Neal returned the hug, and if they both shed some tears, none of the others would ever say a word.
Finally, Peter pulled back, holding Neal at arm’s length and letting his gaze sweep over his friend’s body. Apart from some rather serious weight loss and deep circles under his eyes, Neal seemed to be okay, but he would make sure that he got checked out in a hospital.
“Hey, Caffrey,” Jones said as he and Diana came up to them. “Do us and yourself a favor and don’t get kidnapped again, okay?”
“I’ll try my best, Agent Jones,” Neal replied, and Peter was glad to see the familiar twinkle returning to his CI’s eyes.
“Just kidding,” Jones said back with a smile before engulfing Neal in another hug, and when he pulled back, Diana did the same. Without saying another word, the two ʻDemi-Suitsʼ headed back to where some FBI agents were securing both Fowler’s body and his gun.
“So, Neal, what do you say? Should we head to a hospital and get you checked out?”
“Yeah, and afterwards, please get me anything to eat.” Neal made a tentative first step away from the doorway, and only then Peter saw the full extension of his weight loss. Reaching out, Peter grabbed Neal’s elbow, but instead of shaking him off, Neal slung his arm around Peter’s back, leaning on the taller man that way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Trinity Hospital
Several long minutes later, Peter pulled into the parking lot of Trinity Hospital once again. But this time, his spirit was on an all-time high. Parking the car almost next to the entry, Peter jogged inside to get both Dr. Grant to the ER and a wheelchair.
Another few minutes went by, and at last, Neal was lying in a hospital bed, the baggy clothes he got from McDonald replaced by one of the usual hospital shirts and pajama pants. The hospital staff was running a whole battery of tests, and the fact that he did not even once complain about them was a clear sign to Peter that Neal was just glad that his ordeal was over.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw both his wife and Mozzie approach, but before he could say anything to them, his mobile decided to interrupt. Shrugging apologetically at Elizabeth, he made his way out to a side entrance before answering.
“Burke.”
“Peter, let me tell you one thing,” Hughes began, and Peter wasn’t sure about what to expect.
“What, Reese?”
“I’m doing this job for some time now, but I’ve never ever been so glad that we won’t have to deal with someone like Fowler again.” The older man paused, and Peter only could agree with him. It was the best for all parties involved that both Fowler and McKenzie were dead. Otherwise, if they were captured and imprisoned, Neal and Sara both would have to revisit the events in a courtroom, ripping the wounds on their souls open to a room full of strangers who didn’t know a thing about them.
“We found the room where they kept Neal hostage,” Hughes continued, bringing Peter back from his reverie. “They forced him to make a whole range of forgeries. We found passports and other documents in one of the rooms, all of them clearly marked as forgeries…”
“…as if to prove that Neal couldn’t be changed.” Peter felt his blood boiling. Why was it so hard for people to believe that Neal could change if given the right incentive?
“Yeah, but what they didn’t notice was that Caffrey marked them as well. On every single document, he inserted a small sign. To me, they don’t mean a thing, but maybe you could take a look at them, or ask Caffrey what they should mean.” Sensing that Peter was about to protest that they all should cut Neal some slack and give him time to recover and reconnect, Hughes hurried to add. “Of course after some well-deserved recuperation time.” Hughes couldn’t help but smile after hearing Peter release the breath he was apparently holding. “Truth be told, Caffrey does an excellent job around here.”
“That he does.” Peter saw Mozzie waving at him, apparently the doctor had finished the tests on Neal. “Listen, Reese, I gotta go. The doctor wants to talk to us.”
“Us?” Hughes echoed. “Oh, I take it Elizabeth is already there.”
“Yeah, she is.” Before Hughes could say anything more, Peter hung up and hurried inside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sara’s room
Sara and Penelope had made quite some progress in their ʻLaughing Yogaʼ exercises, when they heard the door open. Getting to her feet with Penelope’s help, Sara turned around – and was almost back on the floor in a heartbeat.
“Neal!”
As quick as possible, she crossed the short distance to the man in question, who was once again seated in a wheelchair. She hugged him gently, well aware of the aftereffects of him being held captive for quite some time. When she tried to pull back, though, Neal kept her in place, pulling her back close to him, burying his face deep in her hair, her neck.
All of a sudden, he let go of her, and before Sara or Peter could say anything, they saw his whole frame shaking, his emotions getting the better of him. Giving Neal both the time to let them out and to recover, Sara turned her attention to Peter.
“Didn’t I told you that you would find him?” she said, and the twinkle of joy in Peter’s eyes was speaking volumes.
“Yeah, you did, Sara,” Peter responded.
Any further questions were halted when suddenly the door opened again, this time letting Mozzie and Elizabeth into the room. Apparently, Neal had calmed down so far to face them again, and for the first time since he was brought into the room, Sara saw his beautiful blue eyes shining, this time with joy. Grabbing her right hand with his left, he motioned for Peter to push him over to the small table.
“Okay, Neal, I know you have probably a million things going through your head right now, but I need to know,” Elizabeth said while sitting down.
“Gentle, Hon,” Peter admonished, Dr. Grant’s warning about pushing too hard for information still on the front of his mind.
“Don’t worry, Peter, I’m not going to shatter with one single question.” Neal turned his gaze on Elizabeth. “And I think I know what’s on top of your curiosity list right now.” He winked at her, eliciting a small chuckle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Coming soon: Neal reveals the true (?) story of how he could escape, plus: a little epilogue.
New York Harbor
McDonald’s pub
In all his years of existence on this Earth, Allen McDonald never ever had seen something even closely to the sight in front of his eyes right now. The young man wolfed down the simple meal, consisting of two slices of bread, a bit of cheese and some pieces of sausage, which McDonald had put together for him. The bottle of water already was gone, and he already was way into the second.
“So, son, what happened to you?”
Ever since finding him in the storage, McDonald tried to keep his voice calm and even. The last thing he needed was that the young man got frightened and hightailed it out of here to God knows where.
Neal looked up, eyeing the older man with just a hint of suspicion.
“Bad days.”
Not sure if this wasn’t just another trick his second kidnapper played on him, Neal tried to keep to himself as much as possible.
“Oh, that I can see.” McDonald made a gesture, indicating the torn clothes still hanging on Neal’s lean frame. “What I want to know is what led to that?”
“As I said, bad days.”
The last days in captivity made Neal even more suspicious than ever before. And somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice reminded him of Mozzie and his paranoia. Which in turn gave Neal an idea.
“Sir, you don’t have phone around here?”
McDonald gave a light chuckle, causing Neal’s eyebrows to rise.
“Of course I have a phone around here, silly.” He retrieved his mobile from a pocket and slid it over to Neal. “On one condition – what’s your name?”
Neal only hesitated for a second before grabbing the phone.
“Neal, Neal Caffrey.”
“Nice to meet you, Neal.” McDonald got up from his seat opposite Neal. “While you call whoever you need to call, I go and see if there’s anything left from my son we could get you in, okay?”
Neal only nodded, his mind already occupied by the decision on who to call. He more felt than saw McDonald leave and finally pushed the buttons for a familiar number.
When the person answered after the second ring, it was already like coming home for Neal.
“Hey, June.”
FBI Building
White Collar offices
From the moment Peter presented the data about the manipulation on Neal’s anklet to Hughes, Bancroft and Roe, the number of agents actually working this particular case was thinned out, until only Peter, Diana, Jones (who was back from the hospital), Wesley and Blake were remaining. Even though they decided it was just a precautionary measure, they couldn’t take the risk, not now.
After clearing that, Jones and Blake went to dig around in Fowler’s recent history, including his escape from Rikers and whatever he was up to afterwards. Diana, Bancroft and Wesley worked the Washington angle, with Roe providing any kind of assistance. Peter and Hughes went over the facts they already knew, trying to put the pieces of this crazy puzzle together.
Right now, Hughes was talking to his secretary to get them all some food, while Peter went through the NYPD reports about McKenzie’s body and its location, when a thought struck him. Grabbing the file, he hurried down the stairs, almost skidding to a stop at Jones’ desk.
“Jones!” The man, along with any agent in the vicinity, raised his head. “We have access to some satellites, right?”
“Yeah, Agent Roe gave us the possibility.” Clinton’s face changed from confusion to understanding. “You want me to check a certain area?”
“Yeah, New York Harbor, around the place where and the time when they found the body.” Jones began to type, and soon, they were looking at the Harbor area.
Agent Roe joined them, as well as Hughes, Diana and Blake.
“What do you think you will find with these images, Peter?” Hughes inquired, probably voicing the thoughts of all around.
“I just read the preliminary ME report on the body.” Peter held the report up. “He states that the body wasn’t in the water for long. So I think that they were close by. And I also think that we’re looking at the area where they keep, or kept, Neal captive all the time.”
“Agent Jones, there’s a possibility to add a thermal layer to the images,” Agent Roe told them, giving Clinton a piece of paper with some commands. Clinton typed them in, and only heartbeats later, the screen turned into an almost blue image – except for the gathering of the FBI, NYPD and CSU personnel in one corner.
“Can you zoom in on them?” Peter asked.
Jones did, and while the others were focused on their colleagues, Peter’s eyes inched down towards the bottom of the screen.
“What’s that?” He pointed to another yellow-red dot, a short distance away from the others.
“Somebody’s watching them,” Diana added.
“But who? Neal or Fowler?” Peter asked. They watched as this single point turned back from looking around the corner and somewhat slumped together.
“That’s Neal, I’m sure.”
Peter felt joy slowly spreading in his chest. Were they really this close to finally bringing him home to them? Without waiting for anyone to follow, Peter hurried out of the office, his mind already working on a plan to get them to the Harbor as quick as possible.
Mozzie’s safe house
After delivering the news to Peter, all occupants were reduced to waiting. There was nothing they could do at the moment, except for praying for a small miracle. And so, it was more than understandable that they all almost jumped when all of a sudden June’s phone started to ring. She pulled it out of her bag, frowning when she couldn’t place the number flashing on the display.
“Hello?”
“Hello, June.”
“Neal!!” All the others huddled around her, trying to hear Neal’s voice with their own ears. Even Bugsy and Satchmo inched closer, sensing who might be on the other end of the line.
“Neal, wait a moment, I put you on speaker, okay?” Though her hands were slightly shaking from the joy she was experiencing, June managed the task pretty fast.
“Neal, honey, where are you?”
“Elizabeth, it’s so good to hear your voice. If I tell you, can you give the information to Peter asap? My second kidnapper is still at large around here, and I don’t want to run into him alone.”
“Of course, Neal.” Elizabeth swallowed thickly, tears of joy already threatening to spill out of her eyes.
“Neal, Sally and I try to make a conference call to Peter, so just stay on the line.”
“Moz! Looks like I miss kind of a party.”
Neal’s little joke had the effect he was aiming for – eliciting a chuckle from everyone, him included.
“Yeah, and as soon as we got you back, you will get your own,” Elizabeth promised.
“El, do you know anything about Sara? How’s she’s doing?”
“She’s pretty fine, as far as I know, but to be honest, I haven’t seen a lot of my husband, or any of the team for that matter, since the beginning of your case.”
Elizabeth tried to keep her voice even, and if a lie would do the job, well, so be it. It wasn’t a complete lie after all.
“Ok, Neal, we have Peter here,” Mozzie said.
“Mozzie, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until later?”
“What about me, Peter?” Neal spoke into the silence.
“NEAL!!!” They all heard tires squealing, and for a heartbeat, they all held their breath. Finally, Peter spoke up again.
“Next time a little warning, Mozzie.” They heard him breathing out deeply. “I almost have caused a collision.”
“Well, good thing you didn’t, hon.”
“Yeah.” Again, silence came from Peter’s side, and they all, including Neal, knew that he was trying to reign in his emotions. “Okay, Neal, where are you?”
“In a pub near the Harbor. But Peter, please do me a favor and be extra careful. My second kidnapper is still somewhere around here, and I don’t need you or any of the team getting hurt because of me.”
“Caffrey, nice of you to care for us, but getting hurt is pretty much part of the job description,” Diana piped up. “Stay put, we’re en route to you.”
“You heard that, Neal?” Peter inquired, a tinge of humor to his voice.
“Yeah, I did, Peter, and this makes it the third time you caught me.”
Both men hung up, and the inhabitants of the safe house started to celebrate by hugging each other, including the two dogs.
Trinity Hospital
Sara’s room
The minute she saw the wide smile on Penelope’s face as she entered the room, Sara knew that finally something good was happening. With curiosity reaching new peaks inside of her, she barely waited till the other woman sat down next to her bed before firing her first question.
“Any news, Penelope?”
Pen looked up from her phone, the smile on her face spreading even further.
“Oh yeah, gumdrop.” If she saw the raised eyebrow on Sara’s face upon hearing yet another new nickname, she didn’t show. “But you have to wait a little bit longer for me to share them with you.”
“They have found Neal, right?”
“Wow, Clint didn’t exaggerate when he told me about your inquisitive character.” Pen slightly rolled her eyes. “Just a little bit longer, Sara, okay?” She got up again, heading over to the small stereo system Clint had set up for them, inserting another of her yoga CDs. “You know what, Sara?” She turned around. “We could kill some time with doing some super-easy Yoga exercises. What do you say?”
Sara couldn’t help but smile at the other woman. Agent Clinton Jones not only had a brilliant brain, he also seemed to have a good taste in choosing his friends.
“Yeah, though I have to warn you. I really can’t remember ever having done that,” Sara said with a smile while she got out of her bed.
“Ah, don’t worry. I myself just got started with that, so we have to go with what the lady on the CD instructs us to do.”
And so, the two women settled on the floor, listening to the instructions coming from the speakers and made their first real foray into the realms of Yoga.
New York Harbor
By the time he finally reached the small pub, Garrett Fowler was furious. They had come so far in their game of revenge against Peter, Neal and the rest of the FBI here in New York, only to have a string of failures where he didn’t need them. First, John Deckard failed in killing Sara. Then, Bryan tried to complicate everything, and he had to kill him. And last but not least, Neal managed somehow to get away from him while he had to deposit Bryan’s body in the river. But, and that was a big but in Fowler’s book, Neal was weakened from the captivity, meaning that he couldn’t have gotten too far from the Harbor.
Sneaking around the house, Fowler peered inside through the windows, trying to spot the man he held personally responsible for his life going down the drain. If Neal just would have cooperated when Kate had asked him about the music box, she and Adler still would be alive, Larssen would still do his job – and most important, he himself would still have his corner office down in Washington.
“Looking for something?”
Fowler spun around – only to be met by the barrel of a hunting rifle. Holding the rifle was an old man, causing Fowler to not see him as a threat.
“Yeah, sorry to bother you, but have you seen a man coming down here? About 5’11’’, dark brown hair, blue eyes?”
“Nah, you’re the only one I’ve seen this fine morning,” Allen McDonald answered, his grey-green eyes fixed on this stranger. His gut told him that this fine specimen of a scumbag was somehow responsible for whatever happened to his young guest.
“You sure?” Fowler insisted, and McDonald could hear a bit of frustration in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m dead sure.” McDonald took a step back, his rifle still trained on Fowler. “I might be older than you, but I’m not blind nor deaf nor dumb.” He cocked the rifle. “And I suggest you better get lost, before I shoot you.”
As if on cue, several police cruisers and FBI-issued cars surrounded Fowler, making it impossible for him to escape.
“Fowler!” Peter’s voice carried over from his car. “Put the damn gun down!”
Only now Fowler noticed that he was pointing at the old man with his gun.
“He,” he waved in McDonald’s direction, “he came up to me with his rifle drawn. I’m just trying to protect myself, Burke.”
“Protect me, my ass,” Hughes said from his position near an SUV. “Garrett, you better do what Agent Burke has asked you to, or I will shoot you myself, just to get you out of my way.”
Hearing the coldness in Hughes’ voice made Fowler think twice about his next actions, but instead of being reasonable for a change and putting the gun down, as everyone expected him to do, he raised it – and finished himself off by putting a bullet into his brain.
Peter put his own gun back into the holster and went over to McDonald.
“Mister…”
“McDonald, Allen McDonald. At your service, sir.”
Peter had to chuckle. Apparently, Neal really had a knack for finding the right people in the worst situations.
“You’re looking for your boy, right?”
Peter almost did a double take. What on Earth had Neal told the man about them?
“Yeah, and I take it he’s here.”
“Yep, he’s here.” The sudden appearance of this new voice had almost everyone turning around, towards the main entrance of the pub.
Standing there in the doorway, in an outfit they all weren’t exactly used to see on him, and leaning heavily on the doorframe, was Neal, his trademark smile firm in place upon seeing the team.
Before Neal could even think about making a step towards them, Peter was in front of him, engulfing him in a bear hug, expressing his joy, his happiness through this action. Somewhat gingerly, Neal returned the hug, and if they both shed some tears, none of the others would ever say a word.
Finally, Peter pulled back, holding Neal at arm’s length and letting his gaze sweep over his friend’s body. Apart from some rather serious weight loss and deep circles under his eyes, Neal seemed to be okay, but he would make sure that he got checked out in a hospital.
“Hey, Caffrey,” Jones said as he and Diana came up to them. “Do us and yourself a favor and don’t get kidnapped again, okay?”
“I’ll try my best, Agent Jones,” Neal replied, and Peter was glad to see the familiar twinkle returning to his CI’s eyes.
“Just kidding,” Jones said back with a smile before engulfing Neal in another hug, and when he pulled back, Diana did the same. Without saying another word, the two ʻDemi-Suitsʼ headed back to where some FBI agents were securing both Fowler’s body and his gun.
“So, Neal, what do you say? Should we head to a hospital and get you checked out?”
“Yeah, and afterwards, please get me anything to eat.” Neal made a tentative first step away from the doorway, and only then Peter saw the full extension of his weight loss. Reaching out, Peter grabbed Neal’s elbow, but instead of shaking him off, Neal slung his arm around Peter’s back, leaning on the taller man that way.
Trinity Hospital
Several long minutes later, Peter pulled into the parking lot of Trinity Hospital once again. But this time, his spirit was on an all-time high. Parking the car almost next to the entry, Peter jogged inside to get both Dr. Grant to the ER and a wheelchair.
Another few minutes went by, and at last, Neal was lying in a hospital bed, the baggy clothes he got from McDonald replaced by one of the usual hospital shirts and pajama pants. The hospital staff was running a whole battery of tests, and the fact that he did not even once complain about them was a clear sign to Peter that Neal was just glad that his ordeal was over.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw both his wife and Mozzie approach, but before he could say anything to them, his mobile decided to interrupt. Shrugging apologetically at Elizabeth, he made his way out to a side entrance before answering.
“Burke.”
“Peter, let me tell you one thing,” Hughes began, and Peter wasn’t sure about what to expect.
“What, Reese?”
“I’m doing this job for some time now, but I’ve never ever been so glad that we won’t have to deal with someone like Fowler again.” The older man paused, and Peter only could agree with him. It was the best for all parties involved that both Fowler and McKenzie were dead. Otherwise, if they were captured and imprisoned, Neal and Sara both would have to revisit the events in a courtroom, ripping the wounds on their souls open to a room full of strangers who didn’t know a thing about them.
“We found the room where they kept Neal hostage,” Hughes continued, bringing Peter back from his reverie. “They forced him to make a whole range of forgeries. We found passports and other documents in one of the rooms, all of them clearly marked as forgeries…”
“…as if to prove that Neal couldn’t be changed.” Peter felt his blood boiling. Why was it so hard for people to believe that Neal could change if given the right incentive?
“Yeah, but what they didn’t notice was that Caffrey marked them as well. On every single document, he inserted a small sign. To me, they don’t mean a thing, but maybe you could take a look at them, or ask Caffrey what they should mean.” Sensing that Peter was about to protest that they all should cut Neal some slack and give him time to recover and reconnect, Hughes hurried to add. “Of course after some well-deserved recuperation time.” Hughes couldn’t help but smile after hearing Peter release the breath he was apparently holding. “Truth be told, Caffrey does an excellent job around here.”
“That he does.” Peter saw Mozzie waving at him, apparently the doctor had finished the tests on Neal. “Listen, Reese, I gotta go. The doctor wants to talk to us.”
“Us?” Hughes echoed. “Oh, I take it Elizabeth is already there.”
“Yeah, she is.” Before Hughes could say anything more, Peter hung up and hurried inside.
Sara’s room
Sara and Penelope had made quite some progress in their ʻLaughing Yogaʼ exercises, when they heard the door open. Getting to her feet with Penelope’s help, Sara turned around – and was almost back on the floor in a heartbeat.
“Neal!”
As quick as possible, she crossed the short distance to the man in question, who was once again seated in a wheelchair. She hugged him gently, well aware of the aftereffects of him being held captive for quite some time. When she tried to pull back, though, Neal kept her in place, pulling her back close to him, burying his face deep in her hair, her neck.
All of a sudden, he let go of her, and before Sara or Peter could say anything, they saw his whole frame shaking, his emotions getting the better of him. Giving Neal both the time to let them out and to recover, Sara turned her attention to Peter.
“Didn’t I told you that you would find him?” she said, and the twinkle of joy in Peter’s eyes was speaking volumes.
“Yeah, you did, Sara,” Peter responded.
Any further questions were halted when suddenly the door opened again, this time letting Mozzie and Elizabeth into the room. Apparently, Neal had calmed down so far to face them again, and for the first time since he was brought into the room, Sara saw his beautiful blue eyes shining, this time with joy. Grabbing her right hand with his left, he motioned for Peter to push him over to the small table.
“Okay, Neal, I know you have probably a million things going through your head right now, but I need to know,” Elizabeth said while sitting down.
“Gentle, Hon,” Peter admonished, Dr. Grant’s warning about pushing too hard for information still on the front of his mind.
“Don’t worry, Peter, I’m not going to shatter with one single question.” Neal turned his gaze on Elizabeth. “And I think I know what’s on top of your curiosity list right now.” He winked at her, eliciting a small chuckle.
Coming soon: Neal reveals the true (?) story of how he could escape, plus: a little epilogue.
