White Collar - as an unofficial novel - part 7

Neal picked the front door and got inside. He shut the door behind him as silently as he could. What would he do now? He hoped that Peter had heard his call for help. It was probably jammed within the car, but now he was outside of it. But Peter could be at the other end of town. Even a squad of FBI agents could not just pop out of the ground out of nowhere.

He scanned the apartment. The bedroom has its windows towards the street. That ruled out the option to just leave and tell the job was done.

Besides, he needed some form of agreement and understanding from his mark. Or else he or she would be in danger later.

He pushed the bedroom door open. A woman, sleeping alone. That would make things a bit easier, maybe.

He took another step inside.

And then the woman shot out of bed like a bullet, aiming a gun at him.

"Freeze!" she screamed.

"Wait! Don't shoot!"

"Caffrey?"

He stared at the face of...

"Sara?"

"This is because I won't let the Raphael go." So sure of herself.

"No, it's not. This isn't what it looks like."

"It looks like you're here to kill me."

"It is what it looks like," Neal admitted. "I was sent here to kill you." Sara cocked her gun. "Look, Mr. Black from Hamburg isn't a courier. He's an assassin."

"Right." Neal sighed. Where was Peter? Sara would not trust him, but she would trust the solid federal agent.

"There's a driver outside. He's armed. He may come in here if he doesn't see muzzle flashes."

"I can make that happen."

The phone rang.

"That's probably Peter." Even though he did not point his gun at her, she would not let go of her aim. "Look, I'm putting the gun down." He put in on her bureau and took a step away. "Answer the phone."

She reached for the button to put the call on speaker and barely even left her aim for a second.

"This better be Peter," she said, back pointing her gun at him.

"It is," the most comforting voice he knew floated through the room. "Tell me you haven't shot Caffrey yet."

"No, not yet."

"The flight was long, Peter!"

"Who wants me dead?" Sara asked Peter.

"Halbridge," Neal answered.

"Peter, is that true?"

"It looks that way, yes," Peter confirmed.

At last, Sara lowered the gun.

"We can arrest the driver outside," he suggested. "Work him to get to Halbridge."

"That doesn't guarantee we'll recover the bonds," Sara said.

"What do you suggest?"

Neal could almost see her brain at work. She returned his look.

"Let him think I'm dead." Neal smiled. He liked how her mind worked, solving problems. There was a reason she had been so close to finding the Raphael. She pointed at the floor beside her bed. "Three bullets there will do."

She looked at him as if she expected him to pick up the gun. He was flattered for the trust, but...

"Sara," Peter said over the speaker-phone. "I think you're the most qualified to do the shooting."