White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 9

Larssen's Deal

Neal awoke in his chair by the change in sound from Mozzie's equipment. He opened his eyes and saw his friend moving, at last. He put his book aside and sat down by the bedside instead.

"Don't pull it out, buddy." He stopped Moz from removing the hose under his nose. "Don't pull it out." He saw his friend's eyes focus and become more awake. "Hey."

"They did it. They finally got me," he sighed. Neal smiled. "What happened?"

"The bullet missed your heart by two millimeters."

"That's because I don't have a heart." He did indeed look miserable.

"Oh, well, look at the bright side. You're not dead."

"I know," Mozzie mumbled and thumbed the plastic nametag on his wrist. "It's worse. I'm in the system." He and Mozzie did not have the same preferences when it come to certain details in life. But he had had a clue what his friend would disapprove about a visit on the radar.

"Not exactly."

Mozzie blinked and read the name on the tag

"'Ivan Bliminse'?" He frowned not getting it at first. Then a faint smile when he got the anagram. "Invisible Man? That's apropos."

"Look, I hate to ask you this, Moz. But I need to I.D. your shooter." Neal pulled a photo of Larssen from his pocket. "Can you...?"

"I can't." Mozzie hardly glanced at the photo. Afraid of the man? Or himself? Neal could not tell.

"Okay." He put the photo away. "We can do it later."

"I can't remember."

"It's okay. We're gonna find him."

It took Mozzie an hour to return to his old self. It was getting late and Neal figured it was time to return home. He had not heard anything from Peter since he allowed him to take a cab to the hospital. Neal wanted to do more, but was firm on letting Peter handle this.

He sent Peter a text that he was walking home from the hospital, said goodbye to Mozzie, and left the building. It was a fine evening and the walk cleared his head. Peter liked to walk too and he missed his company. Or Mozzie's. Both were people offering interesting discussions and perspectives.

Finally, he just had to hear how things were going. It was almost ten PM and he had not heard anything. He called Peter. He answered on the first ring.

"Hey. Diana's taken out the last of Larssen's aliases," Peter said. "How's your end?"

"Mozzie's awake."

"That's great. How's he doing?"

"He quoted Nietzsche to a nurse," Neal smiled. "He's gonna be okay."

"Good," Peter said. "Neal, can he I.D. Larssen?"

Neal stopped on the sidewalk.

"No," he sighed. "No, he doesn't remember."

"All right. Well, we've hit Larssen hard."

"It's his move." He ended the call. He did not look back. There was a reason why he stopped. He had a feeling that he was followed and now he was sure. Because the person following him had stopped too.

He turned left into a passageway under a building. And hid the second he was out of sight. He watched Larsen stop and scan down the now empty passageway before he walked inside the tunnel. Neal felt his heart race with fear more than anger.

Larsen's eyes went to the hat he had dropped on the opposite side.

Neal took his chance and rushed forward, pushing Larsen up against the wall.