WC Fic: "Loyalties" (part 2 of 4)
**********************************
Title: Loyalties (part 2 of 4)
Author: Ivorysilk
Rating: R
Summary: Organized Crime wants to borrow Neal. Peter has no objections to Neal being out of his hair and someone else’s problem for a while. Neal, on the other hand, is dragging his heels and reluctant to cooperate, but won’t explain exactly why.
Spoilers: Somewhere post Point Blank.
Warnings (highlight to read, may be triggery or spoilery): Lack of beta. Language. References to physical brutality, torture, or rape. (not seen on-screen). Adult themes and suchlike.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, or this universe. I am writing this for my own self-indulgent fun, and because, like Neal, I clearly covet other people's things, even as I know they will never be my own.
Comments, positive or negative, are treasured. Thanks for reading.
*************************************************
Back to part one.
On to part three.
On to part four.
**********************************
*********************************************
“Boss.”
“What is it, Diana?” asked Peter, trying not to be curt. Meanwhile, his mind was racing. Damn it all, he should have asked! He should have known-ever since the whole incident with Fowler, ever since Mozzie had been shot, Neal hadn’t been the same. He’d been-before, if revenge had kept Neal going, now nothing seemed to. He went through the motions, but it was like he was drifting. Everyone noticed. Even Mozzie coming to and trying to get Neal interested in the music box again-while Neal was profoundly relieved that his friend was recovering, he only appeared half-heartedly interested while Mozzie explained that the music box code was-
“This is important. Peter, you need to hear this.” Diana’s expression was grim.
“Peter, it’s Jones.” Jones was not an alarmist, but right now, Jones sounded downright worried. Peter reminded himself to stay calm, to breathe, not to panic. Neal was fine. If he wasn’t, he’d have heard.
“Jones,” Peter acknowledged, trying to sound composed, unconcerned.
“I joined the team surveilling Caffrey. We sent him in with the GPS and transmitter in the watch. I …” Peter closed his eyes. Thank god for Jones. Peter was fairly sure that the only reason the surveillance van was out there at all was because Jones insisted on it. Quiet Jones may be, but if he was your friend, he had your back.
Jones considered Neal a friend.
“… have been watching him the last few hours. We had him go in as an investor-Organized Crime had the alias set up already, and all Caffrey had to do was slip in. He was already pretty close to Haggerty-we knew he’d want to meet him, at the point that he invited him down, but Caffrey’s been-off. He’s been avoiding the meet, but now they’ve got a lunch date firmed up and he’s moving.”
“When?” demanded Peter, already donning his coat.
“In about an hour.”
“Off how?” Diana followed him out the door.
“I’m not sure. Maybe you want to come down here. We’re at the corner of fifth and Broadway right now, but--”
“I’m on my way. Keep a close eye on him. And Jones-“
Thanks, thought Peter gratefully, hoping Jones understood what he was trying to say, willing the elevator to hurry, while the rest of his mind kept up a never-ending litany of Neal, Neal, what did you not tell me? You better not get into more trouble. You better not do anything to mess this up.
You better be okay.
“Will do,” said Jones, rock-solid, and his words were a promise. Grateful to Jones, Diana seated beside him, Peter took a deep breath and started the car.
***************************
Jones knew something was off the minute Haggerty’s name was mentioned. There was something a little too casual, a little too forced, in Caffrey’s voice. It wasn’t like Caffrey, who was always, always smoother than silk. Jones hated that they didn’t have visual anywhere on Caffrey, and wouldn’t.
Jones tensed, and mentioned it to the team. Naturally, Ruiz-who was his AIC for this particular op, dismissed his opinion, making a dig that “Burke worrying like a woman was rubbing off on his team” while he was at it. Jones ground his teeth. He hadn’t worked much with Ruiz in the past, but he was starting to dislike him almost as much as Peter did.
After a few hours of listening to Caffrey dance his way around the meeting with Haggerty, he heard the meet being made, and the first note of fear enter into Caffrey’s voice. He called Ruiz, letting him know, and then he called Peter, but Peter didn’t answer, and so he called Diana.
Diana went and got Peter.
The meet was less than an hour away, Ruiz and Peter were on their way, and Caffrey needed to be on top of his game. And from what Jones could tell, he was anything but.
*********************************
“Don’t I know you?” Haggerty was not a tall man, but he was broad and, Neal knew, packed with solid muscle. His demeanour was intimidating, and he appeared to be a man who commanded power.
Except this man did command power. Great power. Neal knew it.
Neal hadn’t expected Haggerty to be in the limo. He’d imagined he’d meet Haggerty at the warehouse, or wherever their lunch date was supposed to be. He'd imagined he’d have a little more time to prepare. He didn’t expect to ride there with Haggerty. Hadn’t expected to be trapped in a car with Haggerty. Hadn’t expected to see Haggerty yet, if at all. It threw him off.
Having no choice, Neal reluctantly, but trying not to seem reluctant, climbed into the back of the limo. “George. George Danvary. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” Neal knew his grin was just a little too wide, a little too forced, but he couldn’t manage to do better. He tried to tell himself that Haggerty was smart-he was cunning, and he was perceptive, and he was smart. He reminded himself that keeping others off-balance was part of the way Haggerty held his power, part of the way Haggerty tested the loyalties of those around him, part of the way Haggerty ensured his own safety. He reminded himself of the stakes-Ruiz was convinced Haggerty was trafficking in human flesh, hurting helpless people, children.
It wasn’t helping. Neal knew he was panicking, and the panic was taking over, but try as he might, he just couldn’t manage to find his footing and get himself together.
“You know, you look very much like someone I once knew,” said Haggerty with the air of someone considering a puzzle that has vaguely caught their interest. Neal, for his part, was trying not to visibly show any sign of discomfort. He reminded himself that in the months he’d shared a cell with Haggerty, he’d worn a jumpsuit, grown a beard, lost weight, and lost any interest in his appearance or (and he’d tried for years to block it out of his memory) personal hygiene. He reminded himself that he looked very different now, and that as long as he played it cool, the differences were enough to throw Haggerty off.
People believed what they wanted to believe; what it was easiest to believe. So you needed to make it easy for them to believe what you wanted. It was the first rule of the con.
“I must have one of those faces,” said Neal easily. “Helps, in my business.” Neal kept grinning as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
“And what business, exactly, is that?” Haggerty’s voice was slightly too sharp-then again, he was a mobster, not a fluffy bunny. Neal kept his voice and manner relaxed.
“Oh, you know, I do a little of this, a little of that. I hear you are looking for a partner. I hear you have a wide profit margin, but have some … security issues.”
“Well, my men did say you told them I’d want to meet you. I did. I admit I’m intrigued, Mr. Danvary, is it?”
Meanwhile, back at the van, Peter walked in (well before Ruiz) and heard no more than fifteen seconds of feed before turning to Jones. “Something’s wrong.”
“I know,” replied Jones, the anxiety in his dark eyes mirroring the worry in Peter’s own.
***************************************
Peter had been arguing with Ruiz for the past thirty minutes. Thank God, thought Jones, that the van was sound-proofed.
“I know Neal,” said Peter, and he only sounded angry if you knew him. “And something’s wrong.”
“How can you tell?” asked Ruiz. “My men haven’t …”
Peter didn’t dignify that with an answer, cutting Ruiz off. “Your men don’t know Neal. They don’t know how he works. He’s good. He’s better than good. This isn’t-“
“Now, Peter. The whole department knows how you think your boy walks on water, despite the fact he’s a convicted criminal -“
“Ruiz, I’m telling you, you need to pull the plug-“
“Not yet, Burke. You know what’s at stake. We need that warehouse. We need the location. Word is he’s just got a shipment-“
“Neal might be in danger, Ruiz. You can’t just--“
“Caffrey’s not an innocent bystander, Pete! Besides, he’s got an activation phrase if he needs it.”
“He’s not an expendable, either, Ruiz!”
“I thought we were supposed to be saving the innocent, Burke! What’s got into you? You toying with the other side, now?”
“Goddamn it, Ruiz-“
“Relax, Petey. Your boy’s fine. Your little convict is hobnobbing with his like-the only difference is that right now, he’s being paid to do it. What’s got your panties in a twist anyway, huh?”
Peter took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Look, I’m telling you, something’s not right. And don’t call me Petey.“
“Just give it some more time, Burke. Just a while longer. He might have as many as five kids in this latest shipment. I can’t pull the plug yet. And anyway, he hasn’t used the activation phrase-“
“You’re right,” said Peter. “You’re right.” Peter sighed, defeated. “What’s the phrase, then, Rick?” When are you guys supposed to move in?”
“The best caviar, and when he -- ”
“Jesus Christ, Ruiz!” exploded Peter. “How’s he supposed to work caviar into a conversation?”
“Well, there’s no mistaking it, is there? And I thought you said your little convict was so damned clever. He didn’t say anything about it when I gave it to him, didn’t argue it or suggest anything else. In fact, he didn’t say much at all--”
“Did you give him any choice?”
“He’s a felon, Petey, or did you forget? You don’t give felons choices!”
“Goddamn it Ruiz! You know how dangerous-“
“Burke, this is my op! I’m running it, and you got a problem with that, take it up with Hughes. Until then, this is Organized Crime’s show, and you interfere, it’ll be your head on the line. I’ve got a guy suspected of trafficking in innocent women and children, and you are more concerned with playing with your pretty little pet con than - “
“Peter,” said Jones loudly, and both men turned. “They’re moving out of range. What do you want to do?”
“Move!” roared Peter. “For God’s sake, move! You can’t-“ The van lurched forward, but stopped almost immediately.
“What the-“ started Peter.
“Light change,” explained Jones tersely.
“We can’t blow cover,” said Ruiz. “There’s no-“
On the feed, Caffrey’s voice was cutting in and out, and his voice sounded higher than usual, stressed. It was difficult to make out the words. The GPS dot with his location, which had been moving steadily along Broadway toward the river into the Bronx suddenly veered left and then started blipping.
“Burke,” said Ruiz. “Just relax. That’s just electrical interference. We’ll move closer …”
“ … over caviar …” Neal’s voice crackled through the feed, and Peter’s blood ran cold.
And then the blip went out completely.
****************************
They combed the area where Neal’s signal had been lost for hours, but there were no leads.
They managed to amplify the feed, in twice the time it would have taken Haversham Peter bet, but Haversham was laid up in a hospital bed and could be of little help. When I.T. eventually got it back to him, it didn’t help. Peter listened to it, at his kitchen table (while El pretended to work, waiting for him, before she finally gave up, kissing him and going to bed and he promised he’d be right up even as they both knew he was lying) for hours.
“I hadn’t ever thought to see you again, Neal. Miss me?” Haggerty’s crackling voice, sounding mechanical and hollow through the amplified feed, sent a chill up Peter’s spine. There was something about his tone that was downright creepy. Neal’s response was uncharacteristically floundering, fearful, inadequate for the role he was supposed to be playing. The role he could normally play in his sleep.
“I don’t know who you - “ Clumsy, Caffrey, thought Peter, closing his eyes. The Neal he knew was never clumsy.
Then again, he didn’t really know Neal, not really. He wondered if even Kate ever had.
It made anger burn in him that the one that seemed to know Neal best-the one who’d been unable to unravel him-was this, this vicious thug. Because Haggerty appeared to have gotten under Neal’s skin with only a few simple words, and Neal--Neal was falling entirely apart.
“I would recognize you anywhere, you think I would forget?” came Haggerty’s voice again. “You have so little faith-or, I think maybe you just have faith in the wrong things--even if you do clean up right pretty. I knew you from the feed as soon as you made contact with my boys, but it was entertaining to watch you try to fool us, wasn’t it boys? Oh, Caffrey. We are going to have so much fun together! I have special plans for you. It’ll be just like old times.” Haggerty was laughing, and in the background, there was a sound that sounded like nothing so much as the click of a gun being cocked.
“Listen, you can’t do this. I am - “ And now Neal just sounded desperate and so, so terrified. Peter clenched his teeth and resisted the urge to throw something, to scream, to stop thinking about how he could have stopped this, why he sent Neal down when he didn’t want to go, why he hesitated on pulling the plug no matter what Ruiz said, no matter the stakes, no matter that Ruiz was willing to pay for one life with another Peter should have tried harder to stop him, owed it to Neal to protect him and keep him safe.
The feed was still running. “Yes, of course, Thomas. I-“ and the feed crackled, too distorted to hear, until Neal said, “I never really liked caviar, but I know you always did.”
“And you know how much I enjoy broadening your horizons, baby. You never know what you’ll enjoy until you try, or what you’ll learn to enjoy, although you were always so reluctant. Don’t you remember? But maybe that’s changed, now that you’re older.”
The feed cut out, although Peter thought he could hear Neal’s voice indistinctly at one point, but he couldn’t be sure, until Haggerty’s voice cut back in.
“I taught you so much in the short time we had together. But don’t worry. This time, we’ll have all the time in the world to re-educate you.” Haggerty’s voice was neither cultured nor educated-he had, in fact, a very marked Jersey accent-but it was dangerous.
Peter eventually went to bed, but he didn’t sleep. He lay awake, watching the sky slowly lighten as the sun rose. Neal had been gone almost 18 hours. Anything could be happening to him. Peter’s imagination conjured up all kinds of horrifying scenarios-Haversham had not been able to provide any further details about Neal and Haggerty’s relationship, but given what Peter now knew, he could take a guess. The speculation didn’t help.
Peter prided himself on his instincts. Generally speaking, his instincts and intellect, along with an educated guess or two, had rarely steered him wrong. For the first time in his life, however, Peter prayed his instincts in this instance were dead, dead wrong.
***********************
Back to part one.
On to part three.
Title: Loyalties (part 2 of 4)
Author: Ivorysilk
Rating: R
Summary: Organized Crime wants to borrow Neal. Peter has no objections to Neal being out of his hair and someone else’s problem for a while. Neal, on the other hand, is dragging his heels and reluctant to cooperate, but won’t explain exactly why.
Spoilers: Somewhere post Point Blank.
Warnings (highlight to read, may be triggery or spoilery): Lack of beta. Language. References to physical brutality, torture, or rape. (not seen on-screen). Adult themes and suchlike.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, or this universe. I am writing this for my own self-indulgent fun, and because, like Neal, I clearly covet other people's things, even as I know they will never be my own.
Comments, positive or negative, are treasured. Thanks for reading.
*************************************************
Back to part one.
On to part three.
On to part four.
**********************************
*********************************************
“Boss.”
“What is it, Diana?” asked Peter, trying not to be curt. Meanwhile, his mind was racing. Damn it all, he should have asked! He should have known-ever since the whole incident with Fowler, ever since Mozzie had been shot, Neal hadn’t been the same. He’d been-before, if revenge had kept Neal going, now nothing seemed to. He went through the motions, but it was like he was drifting. Everyone noticed. Even Mozzie coming to and trying to get Neal interested in the music box again-while Neal was profoundly relieved that his friend was recovering, he only appeared half-heartedly interested while Mozzie explained that the music box code was-
“This is important. Peter, you need to hear this.” Diana’s expression was grim.
“Peter, it’s Jones.” Jones was not an alarmist, but right now, Jones sounded downright worried. Peter reminded himself to stay calm, to breathe, not to panic. Neal was fine. If he wasn’t, he’d have heard.
“Jones,” Peter acknowledged, trying to sound composed, unconcerned.
“I joined the team surveilling Caffrey. We sent him in with the GPS and transmitter in the watch. I …” Peter closed his eyes. Thank god for Jones. Peter was fairly sure that the only reason the surveillance van was out there at all was because Jones insisted on it. Quiet Jones may be, but if he was your friend, he had your back.
Jones considered Neal a friend.
“… have been watching him the last few hours. We had him go in as an investor-Organized Crime had the alias set up already, and all Caffrey had to do was slip in. He was already pretty close to Haggerty-we knew he’d want to meet him, at the point that he invited him down, but Caffrey’s been-off. He’s been avoiding the meet, but now they’ve got a lunch date firmed up and he’s moving.”
“When?” demanded Peter, already donning his coat.
“In about an hour.”
“Off how?” Diana followed him out the door.
“I’m not sure. Maybe you want to come down here. We’re at the corner of fifth and Broadway right now, but--”
“I’m on my way. Keep a close eye on him. And Jones-“
Thanks, thought Peter gratefully, hoping Jones understood what he was trying to say, willing the elevator to hurry, while the rest of his mind kept up a never-ending litany of Neal, Neal, what did you not tell me? You better not get into more trouble. You better not do anything to mess this up.
You better be okay.
“Will do,” said Jones, rock-solid, and his words were a promise. Grateful to Jones, Diana seated beside him, Peter took a deep breath and started the car.
***************************
Jones knew something was off the minute Haggerty’s name was mentioned. There was something a little too casual, a little too forced, in Caffrey’s voice. It wasn’t like Caffrey, who was always, always smoother than silk. Jones hated that they didn’t have visual anywhere on Caffrey, and wouldn’t.
Jones tensed, and mentioned it to the team. Naturally, Ruiz-who was his AIC for this particular op, dismissed his opinion, making a dig that “Burke worrying like a woman was rubbing off on his team” while he was at it. Jones ground his teeth. He hadn’t worked much with Ruiz in the past, but he was starting to dislike him almost as much as Peter did.
After a few hours of listening to Caffrey dance his way around the meeting with Haggerty, he heard the meet being made, and the first note of fear enter into Caffrey’s voice. He called Ruiz, letting him know, and then he called Peter, but Peter didn’t answer, and so he called Diana.
Diana went and got Peter.
The meet was less than an hour away, Ruiz and Peter were on their way, and Caffrey needed to be on top of his game. And from what Jones could tell, he was anything but.
*********************************
“Don’t I know you?” Haggerty was not a tall man, but he was broad and, Neal knew, packed with solid muscle. His demeanour was intimidating, and he appeared to be a man who commanded power.
Except this man did command power. Great power. Neal knew it.
Neal hadn’t expected Haggerty to be in the limo. He’d imagined he’d meet Haggerty at the warehouse, or wherever their lunch date was supposed to be. He'd imagined he’d have a little more time to prepare. He didn’t expect to ride there with Haggerty. Hadn’t expected to be trapped in a car with Haggerty. Hadn’t expected to see Haggerty yet, if at all. It threw him off.
Having no choice, Neal reluctantly, but trying not to seem reluctant, climbed into the back of the limo. “George. George Danvary. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” Neal knew his grin was just a little too wide, a little too forced, but he couldn’t manage to do better. He tried to tell himself that Haggerty was smart-he was cunning, and he was perceptive, and he was smart. He reminded himself that keeping others off-balance was part of the way Haggerty held his power, part of the way Haggerty tested the loyalties of those around him, part of the way Haggerty ensured his own safety. He reminded himself of the stakes-Ruiz was convinced Haggerty was trafficking in human flesh, hurting helpless people, children.
It wasn’t helping. Neal knew he was panicking, and the panic was taking over, but try as he might, he just couldn’t manage to find his footing and get himself together.
“You know, you look very much like someone I once knew,” said Haggerty with the air of someone considering a puzzle that has vaguely caught their interest. Neal, for his part, was trying not to visibly show any sign of discomfort. He reminded himself that in the months he’d shared a cell with Haggerty, he’d worn a jumpsuit, grown a beard, lost weight, and lost any interest in his appearance or (and he’d tried for years to block it out of his memory) personal hygiene. He reminded himself that he looked very different now, and that as long as he played it cool, the differences were enough to throw Haggerty off.
People believed what they wanted to believe; what it was easiest to believe. So you needed to make it easy for them to believe what you wanted. It was the first rule of the con.
“I must have one of those faces,” said Neal easily. “Helps, in my business.” Neal kept grinning as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
“And what business, exactly, is that?” Haggerty’s voice was slightly too sharp-then again, he was a mobster, not a fluffy bunny. Neal kept his voice and manner relaxed.
“Oh, you know, I do a little of this, a little of that. I hear you are looking for a partner. I hear you have a wide profit margin, but have some … security issues.”
“Well, my men did say you told them I’d want to meet you. I did. I admit I’m intrigued, Mr. Danvary, is it?”
Meanwhile, back at the van, Peter walked in (well before Ruiz) and heard no more than fifteen seconds of feed before turning to Jones. “Something’s wrong.”
“I know,” replied Jones, the anxiety in his dark eyes mirroring the worry in Peter’s own.
***************************************
Peter had been arguing with Ruiz for the past thirty minutes. Thank God, thought Jones, that the van was sound-proofed.
“I know Neal,” said Peter, and he only sounded angry if you knew him. “And something’s wrong.”
“How can you tell?” asked Ruiz. “My men haven’t …”
Peter didn’t dignify that with an answer, cutting Ruiz off. “Your men don’t know Neal. They don’t know how he works. He’s good. He’s better than good. This isn’t-“
“Now, Peter. The whole department knows how you think your boy walks on water, despite the fact he’s a convicted criminal -“
“Ruiz, I’m telling you, you need to pull the plug-“
“Not yet, Burke. You know what’s at stake. We need that warehouse. We need the location. Word is he’s just got a shipment-“
“Neal might be in danger, Ruiz. You can’t just--“
“Caffrey’s not an innocent bystander, Pete! Besides, he’s got an activation phrase if he needs it.”
“He’s not an expendable, either, Ruiz!”
“I thought we were supposed to be saving the innocent, Burke! What’s got into you? You toying with the other side, now?”
“Goddamn it, Ruiz-“
“Relax, Petey. Your boy’s fine. Your little convict is hobnobbing with his like-the only difference is that right now, he’s being paid to do it. What’s got your panties in a twist anyway, huh?”
Peter took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Look, I’m telling you, something’s not right. And don’t call me Petey.“
“Just give it some more time, Burke. Just a while longer. He might have as many as five kids in this latest shipment. I can’t pull the plug yet. And anyway, he hasn’t used the activation phrase-“
“You’re right,” said Peter. “You’re right.” Peter sighed, defeated. “What’s the phrase, then, Rick?” When are you guys supposed to move in?”
“The best caviar, and when he -- ”
“Jesus Christ, Ruiz!” exploded Peter. “How’s he supposed to work caviar into a conversation?”
“Well, there’s no mistaking it, is there? And I thought you said your little convict was so damned clever. He didn’t say anything about it when I gave it to him, didn’t argue it or suggest anything else. In fact, he didn’t say much at all--”
“Did you give him any choice?”
“He’s a felon, Petey, or did you forget? You don’t give felons choices!”
“Goddamn it Ruiz! You know how dangerous-“
“Burke, this is my op! I’m running it, and you got a problem with that, take it up with Hughes. Until then, this is Organized Crime’s show, and you interfere, it’ll be your head on the line. I’ve got a guy suspected of trafficking in innocent women and children, and you are more concerned with playing with your pretty little pet con than - “
“Peter,” said Jones loudly, and both men turned. “They’re moving out of range. What do you want to do?”
“Move!” roared Peter. “For God’s sake, move! You can’t-“ The van lurched forward, but stopped almost immediately.
“What the-“ started Peter.
“Light change,” explained Jones tersely.
“We can’t blow cover,” said Ruiz. “There’s no-“
On the feed, Caffrey’s voice was cutting in and out, and his voice sounded higher than usual, stressed. It was difficult to make out the words. The GPS dot with his location, which had been moving steadily along Broadway toward the river into the Bronx suddenly veered left and then started blipping.
“Burke,” said Ruiz. “Just relax. That’s just electrical interference. We’ll move closer …”
“ … over caviar …” Neal’s voice crackled through the feed, and Peter’s blood ran cold.
And then the blip went out completely.
****************************
They combed the area where Neal’s signal had been lost for hours, but there were no leads.
They managed to amplify the feed, in twice the time it would have taken Haversham Peter bet, but Haversham was laid up in a hospital bed and could be of little help. When I.T. eventually got it back to him, it didn’t help. Peter listened to it, at his kitchen table (while El pretended to work, waiting for him, before she finally gave up, kissing him and going to bed and he promised he’d be right up even as they both knew he was lying) for hours.
“I hadn’t ever thought to see you again, Neal. Miss me?” Haggerty’s crackling voice, sounding mechanical and hollow through the amplified feed, sent a chill up Peter’s spine. There was something about his tone that was downright creepy. Neal’s response was uncharacteristically floundering, fearful, inadequate for the role he was supposed to be playing. The role he could normally play in his sleep.
“I don’t know who you - “ Clumsy, Caffrey, thought Peter, closing his eyes. The Neal he knew was never clumsy.
Then again, he didn’t really know Neal, not really. He wondered if even Kate ever had.
It made anger burn in him that the one that seemed to know Neal best-the one who’d been unable to unravel him-was this, this vicious thug. Because Haggerty appeared to have gotten under Neal’s skin with only a few simple words, and Neal--Neal was falling entirely apart.
“I would recognize you anywhere, you think I would forget?” came Haggerty’s voice again. “You have so little faith-or, I think maybe you just have faith in the wrong things--even if you do clean up right pretty. I knew you from the feed as soon as you made contact with my boys, but it was entertaining to watch you try to fool us, wasn’t it boys? Oh, Caffrey. We are going to have so much fun together! I have special plans for you. It’ll be just like old times.” Haggerty was laughing, and in the background, there was a sound that sounded like nothing so much as the click of a gun being cocked.
“Listen, you can’t do this. I am - “ And now Neal just sounded desperate and so, so terrified. Peter clenched his teeth and resisted the urge to throw something, to scream, to stop thinking about how he could have stopped this, why he sent Neal down when he didn’t want to go, why he hesitated on pulling the plug no matter what Ruiz said, no matter the stakes, no matter that Ruiz was willing to pay for one life with another Peter should have tried harder to stop him, owed it to Neal to protect him and keep him safe.
The feed was still running. “Yes, of course, Thomas. I-“ and the feed crackled, too distorted to hear, until Neal said, “I never really liked caviar, but I know you always did.”
“And you know how much I enjoy broadening your horizons, baby. You never know what you’ll enjoy until you try, or what you’ll learn to enjoy, although you were always so reluctant. Don’t you remember? But maybe that’s changed, now that you’re older.”
The feed cut out, although Peter thought he could hear Neal’s voice indistinctly at one point, but he couldn’t be sure, until Haggerty’s voice cut back in.
“I taught you so much in the short time we had together. But don’t worry. This time, we’ll have all the time in the world to re-educate you.” Haggerty’s voice was neither cultured nor educated-he had, in fact, a very marked Jersey accent-but it was dangerous.
Peter eventually went to bed, but he didn’t sleep. He lay awake, watching the sky slowly lighten as the sun rose. Neal had been gone almost 18 hours. Anything could be happening to him. Peter’s imagination conjured up all kinds of horrifying scenarios-Haversham had not been able to provide any further details about Neal and Haggerty’s relationship, but given what Peter now knew, he could take a guess. The speculation didn’t help.
Peter prided himself on his instincts. Generally speaking, his instincts and intellect, along with an educated guess or two, had rarely steered him wrong. For the first time in his life, however, Peter prayed his instincts in this instance were dead, dead wrong.
***********************
Back to part one.
On to part three.