White Collar - as an unofficial novel - part 5

Neal says hi

Peter began to feel desperate. They had found Wok of Fire, but it was further away from the water than they had hoped. But at least there was only one restaurant with that name. Peter set his GPS for the closest dock and drove. He saw a tail of FBI cars behind him. When he had reached the road's end he sprung out and was soon caught up by Rice.

"This is the closest dock to Wok of Fire," she told him.

That much Peter already knew. When he saw the old brick buildings matching the type of wall behind the girl he got hopeful.

"That sounds like our tugboat horn," Peter noted. He looked around. The whole dock was full of red brick houses. "So where's our girl?"

"I hope you're feeling lucky," Rice said, sounding pessimistic. "It's almost four. Caffrey's out of time."

She left and Peter saw the men they brought spread out, searching for the right building.

"Neal, you copy?" he called into his radio. "Neal?"

"Tell me you found Lindsay," Neal answered.

"We're gonna need more time."

"It's four, Peter. I'm already here."

"Then stall. He gets his hands on the case, the girl's dead."

He knew it was a heavy responsibility, but the kid had chosen the part himself. Neal and Jones had to work on their own. Peter could not waste time and energy to worry about them. He hurried after Rice.

They searched along the docks, passing building after building. It felt like they all looked the same.

Until... Peter slowed down.

"Wait, wait," he halted Rice. "Give me the still from that proof-of-life tape."

Rice turned to one in her team and Peter got a photo of the girl with the wall behind in his hand.

"What do you see?" she asked.

Peter held up the photo.

"Same crack in the wall," he said. "That's our place."

They both grinned.

"We got them."

Jones caught up with him on his way out. The agent kept a low profile just in case.

"Well done, Caffrey," he mumbled.

"Thanks."

"Where's the pickup-point?"

Neal handed him the note Wilkes had given him.

"Stay low, Jones, okay?" he requested.

"Sure thing, Caffrey."

They exchange a short nod and Jones was gone. Neal walked to the car that Wilkes had lent him with the driver's role. Time to deliver a briefcase.

When he got there it turned out to be a lonely, forgotten place beside the railroad tracks in Dutch Kills.

"Neal, you copy?" he heard Peter in his earpiece. "Neal?"

"Tell me you found Lindsay," he said.

"We're gonna need more time."

"It's four, Peter. I'm already here."

"Then stall," his handler shot back at him. "He gets his hands on the case, the girl's dead."

Neal sighed. Peter was right. The white van he knew by now came towards him. Stall how? The case was right beside him.

His eyes returned to the case. What if...