White Collar - as an unofficial novel - part 2

A new week

It was Monday morning and his boss gave him a long stare. Peter did not blame him.

"That work is below your pay grade, Burke," Hughes pointed out.

"I know, but I need to see if Neal can handle it," Peter explained. "A long boring day in the van when nothing happens. I need to know if I can count on him in a small, closed, sweaty van. And I need to find out before we really need him in one."

"He came to the van last Saturday."

Peter nodded in agreement, but neither of those inside had paid any attention to Neal and his reactions. And chose to be somewhere and be forced to was two different things.

"I need to see for myself, Reece."

The senior agent nodded.

"Go ahead, Peter."

"Thanks."

Peter left the room and walked down to Neal's desk.

"Time to go," he told the kid. Neal was quick to listen and got his suit jacket and hat on in seconds.

"Where are we going?" he asked in the elevator.

"We're going to relieve Jones and Andersen in the van." Peter sent Neal a glance. "You're going to spend your first shift in one of FBIs most hated places."

"Charming idea," Neal grunted. "Why did I just volunteered to this?"

"Because we both need to know if you can handle it. Surveying Barelli is a good start."

"Barelli?"

"A classic gangster we're keeping our eyes on. Fingers in lots of jars but nothing solid enough to bring him in."

They got down to the garage and into the car.

"How did you feel in the van last Saturday?" Peter asked.

"Unwelcome," Neal replied. "But I didn't expect anyone to cheer."

"Hughes told me it was your idea to jam his phone. You did a good job."

"Thanks."

Peter kept an eye on Neal. He was likely to push the kid way out of his comfort zone. If he could not handle the van it was something they had to work on. But better now with a guy like Barelli who likely knew he had the feds on his tale than when it was vital they did not blow their cover.

Peter parked the car a few blocks away and they walked the rest of the way.

"Alright, the trick is not to catch attention when you enter the van," he told Neal. "People don't expect suits to be inside so the fewer people who see the better." He caught Neal gazing at him with a peculiar smile. "What?" Neal just raised his eyebrows. Peter got the hint.

His consultant had not been the hardest criminals to catch if he had not excelled in discreet moves.

Jones and Andersen had left and he was alone with Peter in the van. At least it was not crowded as it had been last time. There were two monitors showing different views of a house. There was a speaker but no one was at home so there was nothing to listen to at the moment. Neal was bored and restless within ten minutes. The feeling of being locked up with nothing to do made him claustrophobic.

"Reminds you of your prison cell?" Peter asked. Neal shook his head.

"No. A whole wall had bars to the corridor. It was not like this. I liked my cell." He sent Peter a glance. "Don't get me wrong. I didn't like to be in prison. But my cell was the best place there. I had my books and someone to talk to in the cell next door. Besides, normal days we didn't spend much time in there, so it was no time to get claustrophobic."