Complications

Chapter 3: Pizza Conversation

Neal tried to stay upbeat during the walk back to the office, but the exhilaration from opening up to Peter was quickly replaced by mind-numbing fatigue. It would take several more trips to the coffee bar just to finish the day, plus he now needed to allow time for boot camp. What had earlier sounded to be rather fun now loomed as a huge roadblock.

"How many cases do you have left to process?" Peter asked, breaking into his brain fog.

"Just one—the Ferguson mortgage fraud. It's fairly straightforward. I should be able to complete it by the end of the day."

Peter didn't comment but simply nodded his head.

Once they were inside the elevator, he asked Neal, "Have you heard about Storeroom 51?"

"No. Is the truth in there? Can I tell Mozzie his suspicions about an FBI-engineered conspiracy are true?"

"Very funny. Storeroom 51 is a special place that all veteran agents visit from time to time. We'll check it out on the way back."

Was a sightseeing excursion really necessary? More than ever, Neal realized he was trapped in a rapidly deteriorating situation.

Storeroom 51 turned out to be a small windowless room on a back corridor, far away from the noise of the bullpen. It contained a desk, a file cabinet, a couch, and not much else.

"This is where an agent comes when he needs to take a break," Peter explained. "You'll find a pillow and blanket in the file cabinet. I'm going to put an "Occupied" sign on the door, and your assignment is to get some sleep. No reading and no coffee, understood? I'll take care of the Ferguson case and come back at five o'clock to pick you up. Is that acceptable?"

Neal just gaped at him for a moment, speechless with gratitude.

Peter chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Thank you, Peter. If this is a taste of boot camp, I think I can manage it."

* * * * *

When Peter returned to Storeroom 51 at the end of the day, Neal was folding up the blanket. His face wasn't quite as drawn but he looked like he could use at least another twelve hours of shuteye.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Neal asked. "There's no need for me to mess up your weekend with Elizabeth."

"You're kidding, right? El is thrilled about the chance to partake in Burke Boot Camp. She's heard the tales but never experienced its full glory. She's already laid in the supplies, and I know you don't want to disappoint her." All true, but no need to mention the last-minute call she made to Yvonne, asking her to fill in for her at tonight's event.

On the way to Brooklyn, they stopped off at the loft so Neal could ditch the suit and pack. When Peter asked about June, Neal explained she was vacationing with her family in Los Angeles. That took care of one missing puzzle piece—why June hadn't intervened when it was so obvious Neal was floundering.

Peter sat on the couch and watched with amusement as Neal collected an ungodly number of textbooks. "What did you do—buy out the campus bookstore? I should have brought a truck."

"I didn't know what they were going to test me on so I figured I better play it safe. Are you going to let me bring anything else?"

"Yeah, you can bring some sweats, jeans, and don't forget your running shoes." Responding to Neal's arched eyebrows, Peter added, "What did you expect from boot camp?"

While they lugged the books and miscellaneous gear downstairs, Neal fired off one question after another about what would go on in boot camp. His curiosity would have to remain unsatisfied mainly because Peter was planning it on the fly. In his desire to get Neal to relax, he may have overplayed his expertise, and now it was up to him to deliver. So far, he'd only figured out the meals.