Side Story One
**Manhattan, New York:
FBI White Collar Crime Division offices:
0900 Monday, January 10, 2011**
“So, what’s the deal?” Neal Caffrey asked as he walked into the office and started handing out coffee cups to his usual teammates.
“Something about a multi-agency sting,” Agent Clinton Jones said taking the coffee and one of the pastries that Neal had brought for the team. “I don’t know any of the particulars, but Peter is hoping you will be up to helping with this one.”
“Not just multi-agency,” Dianna Barrigan, the other agent on their four-person team cut in taking her cup but forgoing the pastry. “If what I heard them saying is accurate, this could go international and re-open some of the action against you and Mozzie’s Nazi problems.”
Neal’s eyebrows rose at that before he put on a serious face. “Well,” he said to the pair, “I guess I should take Peter his morning coffee and find out what is going on.” The two agents nodded at him and watched as he walked up the stairs.
“Think he’ll take it?” Dianna asked.
“No question,” Clinton replied, “the only thing Neal likes more than living the easy life is screwing over Nazis, and if he had a super power, then he would likely be up in Brockton bashing heads like there was no tomorrow.” They smiled at each other before returning to their individual paperwork, knowing it would be best to have as much of it off their desks before things got interesting, again.
**
Peter Burke smiled as he watched his former nemesis and now friend and colleague enter the room, “Neal, I’m glad you’re here,” the Special Agent said looking at the former con man. “We’ve been asked to lead an inter-agency investigation in another area, and I really want you to be the front man for this.”
“What’s the job and who’s the mark?” Neal asked with his usual smile as he handed Peter his coffee and looked over the other people in the room. Four were male and one female, of the men, two of them were black, while one was white and the other was Hispanic, while the woman was either middle eastern or of Mediterranean decent.
“First let me introduce the friendly players as it were,” Peter said noticing his attention on the other people in the meeting. “First we have Agents Hannah Washington and Collin Wallis of the PRT. This is happening at their request and because of their witness.”
The white male turned from where he had been updating the flat screen with data and nodded while the woman walked over and shook his hand. He could feel the calluses from years of firearms use in her grip, “Mr. Caffrey,” she said smiling, “Special Agent Burke speaks very highly of your abilities, especially considering that you are not a Parahuman.”
“Thank you, Agent Washington,” Neal said smiling back. “I understand that one of the tests that they put me through when Peter first arrested me was to see if I was a Parahuman. I guess that if that had been the case then I would have likely ended up working with someone like you.”
Agent Washington chuckled slightly at that while her partner grunted. “Possibly,” she commented, “though you would have likely been sent to either Washington DC or Vegas if you didn’t just go to prison.”
Neal nodded and Peter continued speaking, “Agent Vincent Dubois is from BATF,” the thinner black man nodded to Neal who nodded back. “While Agent Patrick House is here from the DEA.” The other black man waved slightly at Neal while looking back from where he was watching the screen be updated. “Finally we have…”
“Horace Harkness,” the man that Neal had originally taken as Hispanic said stepping forward. Up close Neal could see that he wasn’t Hispanic, or at least not purely. No, this was a man who had spent years in the sun, and to many nights ending up in bar fights. “I’m from the Department of the Treasury and I am hoping that we can finally nail this bastard and his friends.”
“Agent Harkness,” Washington said calmly as Neal shook the stout man’s hand, “has apparently been chasing leads on our target for a number of years without much luck.”
“Oh, there has been plenty of luck Hannah,” Harkness said with a smile. He had the face of a prize fighter and the knuckles of a barroom brawler but seemed to be a likeable person. “The problem is that with his lawyers, both foreign and domestic, he’s twice as slippery as fucking Gotti ever was.”
“He is,” Wallis said without looking away from the screen. “But now we have an eye into his operations so to speak, and hopefully one of us will be able to bring him down for something.”
Neal blinked and then smiled, “So let me make sure I have this straight,” he said. “And I want to be absolutely sure what is going on before we go any further, because this is a lot of agency to come down on any group’s heads, let alone one mans.” All of them but Wallis turned to look at him. “What we have is someone who either is, or at least employs Parahumans for the purposes of smuggling guns, drugs and then laundering the illicit funds gathered from such, or at least smuggling them out of the area. To this we have one witness, who is probably under duress from the subject in question, and in return for consideration of her own parts in these actions has turned State’s Witness against the subject and now we are working to gather actual, actionable evidence for various warrants and seizures.” The group around the table looked at each other and nodded. “Well,” Neal said with a smile, “doesn’t that make this a fun job.” Turning he looked at his boss, “I do like a challenge Peter, and you usually deliver, now, who’s the mark?”
“This man,” Wallis said finally stepping away from the big screen and pulling up a picture of a man flanked by two amazing blonde women. “This is Maximillian Anders, current CEO of MedHall Pharmaceuticals. It is our belief, and true according to our witness’s testimony, that he is also Kaiser, the head of the gang known in Brockton Bay as the Empire 88.”
“Isn’t there some kind of Gentlemen’s agreement about not going after capes in their personal lives,” Agent Dubois said taking his seat.
“The unwritten rules are a thing amongst capes,” Harkness said sitting down to Peter’s left while Neal sat to his right. “The thing is, there is nothing saying that the normal government agencies, in the execution of their remit to ferret out illegal activities on the part of the civilian identity of such a cape, has to abide by that rule.”
“And by having the PRT there to assist just in case the subject is a cape?” agent House asked.
“Well that’s just being efficient,” Wallis answered. “You never know when someone is going to trigger and being arrested can be a very stressful time.” As Neal looked at the table, his gaze swept across the faces of those present and thanked god that he had Peter Burke as his pursuer. If it had been Harkness or Wallis, he would have likely been happy to spend his days rotting in solitary as opposed to trying to bluff those two.
**Manhattan, New York:
FBI White Collar Crime Division offices:
0900 Monday, January 10, 2011**
“So, what’s the deal?” Neal Caffrey asked as he walked into the office and started handing out coffee cups to his usual teammates.
“Something about a multi-agency sting,” Agent Clinton Jones said taking the coffee and one of the pastries that Neal had brought for the team. “I don’t know any of the particulars, but Peter is hoping you will be up to helping with this one.”
“Not just multi-agency,” Dianna Barrigan, the other agent on their four-person team cut in taking her cup but forgoing the pastry. “If what I heard them saying is accurate, this could go international and re-open some of the action against you and Mozzie’s Nazi problems.”
Neal’s eyebrows rose at that before he put on a serious face. “Well,” he said to the pair, “I guess I should take Peter his morning coffee and find out what is going on.” The two agents nodded at him and watched as he walked up the stairs.
“Think he’ll take it?” Dianna asked.
“No question,” Clinton replied, “the only thing Neal likes more than living the easy life is screwing over Nazis, and if he had a super power, then he would likely be up in Brockton bashing heads like there was no tomorrow.” They smiled at each other before returning to their individual paperwork, knowing it would be best to have as much of it off their desks before things got interesting, again.
**
Peter Burke smiled as he watched his former nemesis and now friend and colleague enter the room, “Neal, I’m glad you’re here,” the Special Agent said looking at the former con man. “We’ve been asked to lead an inter-agency investigation in another area, and I really want you to be the front man for this.”
“What’s the job and who’s the mark?” Neal asked with his usual smile as he handed Peter his coffee and looked over the other people in the room. Four were male and one female, of the men, two of them were black, while one was white and the other was Hispanic, while the woman was either middle eastern or of Mediterranean decent.
“First let me introduce the friendly players as it were,” Peter said noticing his attention on the other people in the meeting. “First we have Agents Hannah Washington and Collin Wallis of the PRT. This is happening at their request and because of their witness.”
The white male turned from where he had been updating the flat screen with data and nodded while the woman walked over and shook his hand. He could feel the calluses from years of firearms use in her grip, “Mr. Caffrey,” she said smiling, “Special Agent Burke speaks very highly of your abilities, especially considering that you are not a Parahuman.”
“Thank you, Agent Washington,” Neal said smiling back. “I understand that one of the tests that they put me through when Peter first arrested me was to see if I was a Parahuman. I guess that if that had been the case then I would have likely ended up working with someone like you.”
Agent Washington chuckled slightly at that while her partner grunted. “Possibly,” she commented, “though you would have likely been sent to either Washington DC or Vegas if you didn’t just go to prison.”
Neal nodded and Peter continued speaking, “Agent Vincent Dubois is from BATF,” the thinner black man nodded to Neal who nodded back. “While Agent Patrick House is here from the DEA.” The other black man waved slightly at Neal while looking back from where he was watching the screen be updated. “Finally we have…”
“Horace Harkness,” the man that Neal had originally taken as Hispanic said stepping forward. Up close Neal could see that he wasn’t Hispanic, or at least not purely. No, this was a man who had spent years in the sun, and to many nights ending up in bar fights. “I’m from the Department of the Treasury and I am hoping that we can finally nail this bastard and his friends.”
“Agent Harkness,” Washington said calmly as Neal shook the stout man’s hand, “has apparently been chasing leads on our target for a number of years without much luck.”
“Oh, there has been plenty of luck Hannah,” Harkness said with a smile. He had the face of a prize fighter and the knuckles of a barroom brawler but seemed to be a likeable person. “The problem is that with his lawyers, both foreign and domestic, he’s twice as slippery as fucking Gotti ever was.”
“He is,” Wallis said without looking away from the screen. “But now we have an eye into his operations so to speak, and hopefully one of us will be able to bring him down for something.”
Neal blinked and then smiled, “So let me make sure I have this straight,” he said. “And I want to be absolutely sure what is going on before we go any further, because this is a lot of agency to come down on any group’s heads, let alone one mans.” All of them but Wallis turned to look at him. “What we have is someone who either is, or at least employs Parahumans for the purposes of smuggling guns, drugs and then laundering the illicit funds gathered from such, or at least smuggling them out of the area. To this we have one witness, who is probably under duress from the subject in question, and in return for consideration of her own parts in these actions has turned State’s Witness against the subject and now we are working to gather actual, actionable evidence for various warrants and seizures.” The group around the table looked at each other and nodded. “Well,” Neal said with a smile, “doesn’t that make this a fun job.” Turning he looked at his boss, “I do like a challenge Peter, and you usually deliver, now, who’s the mark?”
“This man,” Wallis said finally stepping away from the big screen and pulling up a picture of a man flanked by two amazing blonde women. “This is Maximillian Anders, current CEO of MedHall Pharmaceuticals. It is our belief, and true according to our witness’s testimony, that he is also Kaiser, the head of the gang known in Brockton Bay as the Empire 88.”
“Isn’t there some kind of Gentlemen’s agreement about not going after capes in their personal lives,” Agent Dubois said taking his seat.
“The unwritten rules are a thing amongst capes,” Harkness said sitting down to Peter’s left while Neal sat to his right. “The thing is, there is nothing saying that the normal government agencies, in the execution of their remit to ferret out illegal activities on the part of the civilian identity of such a cape, has to abide by that rule.”
“And by having the PRT there to assist just in case the subject is a cape?” agent House asked.
“Well that’s just being efficient,” Wallis answered. “You never know when someone is going to trigger and being arrested can be a very stressful time.” As Neal looked at the table, his gaze swept across the faces of those present and thanked god that he had Peter Burke as his pursuer. If it had been Harkness or Wallis, he would have likely been happy to spend his days rotting in solitary as opposed to trying to bluff those two.
Wolf wins every fight but the one where he dies, fangs locked around the throat of his opponent.
Currently writing BROBd
Currently writing BROBd