Chapter 7: Under the Surface

Peter Burke's eyes never strayed from Henry as they sat across from each other in the dimly lit, private back room of the café. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, each trying to gauge the other's next move.

Neal had insisted on being there—more out of a sense of loyalty than necessity. He sat at a nearby table, his fingers tapping nervously against the surface. The weight of the situation had shifted; it was no longer about just a man with a ghostly past or a brother with an untraceable identity. The stakes had climbed higher, pulling Neal deeper into a world he never truly wanted to be part of.

"I'll get straight to the point," Peter began, his voice steady but hard. "You're playing with fire, Henry. And I have a lot of questions. Questions I want answers to, starting with why I can't find a single piece of your past."

Henry leaned back in his chair, the ever-present coolness about him only making Peter's suspicion grow stronger. He had expected to see some nervous tic, some crack in Henry's facade, but there was nothing.

"Peter," Henry said, taking a slow sip from his own coffee, "you've got a sharp mind. But you're looking in the wrong places. I don't need a past, not like you think. Not when the future is where the real game is played."

Peter's eyes narrowed. He wasn't used to being spoken to like this—especially not by someone who was so clearly skirting the truth. "The future?" he repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. "You want to tell me what you're really up to? Because whatever it is, it's not just some 'problem-solving' gig you're pretending at."

Neal shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but Henry didn't flinch. He simply smiled, the curve of his lips more like a challenge than a reassurance.

"Problem-solving isn't a hobby, Peter," Henry said, leaning forward now, his voice quieter, more insistent. "It's about leverage. Information. The kind of information that changes everything for the people who need it most."

Peter didn't need to ask what that meant. He had been in the business long enough to understand the language of shadows. But his gut was telling him something was more dangerous at play here than even Henry knew.

"You're playing with people's lives," Peter said, his tone a warning now. "And you're using Neal to do it."

Henry's eyes flickered briefly to Neal, whose face had gone pale under the pressure of Peter's words. But Henry's gaze returned to Peter's with something like amusement. "Neal's not a pawn in this game, Peter. He's not your suspect, either. He's... well, let's just say he's my ally for now."

Neal's breath caught, but he didn't interrupt. He wasn't sure if Henry was testing Peter or giving him a clue about how deep this web really went.

Peter's jaw tightened. "If you're so sure of that, why don't you tell me what you're really after?"

Henry's smirk deepened. "Adler," he said simply. "I'm after Adler."

Peter leaned back in his chair, his expression now a mix of surprise and skepticism. "Adler? The art mogul with ties to everything illegal under the sun?"

Henry's gaze never wavered. "The same. And more. There's a bigger game afoot, Peter. A game that even you can't see yet. But if you're smart, you'll step aside. It's bigger than you, and it's bigger than me, too."

Neal was silent, watching the exchange unfold before him. This wasn't about art or heists anymore. It wasn't even just about Adler. Whatever Henry was leading Peter into, it felt like they were teetering on the edge of something much darker.

Peter studied Henry for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "And why should I trust you?" he asked finally. "You're not even who you say you are. You've got no past, no records. You're a ghost. You're an enigma that could tear everything apart without leaving a trace."

Henry's lips curled into a smirk again. "Because you know as well as I do that sometimes, Peter, the people who don't leave a trace are the ones who know the most."

For a long moment, Peter said nothing, as if weighing the implications of Henry's words. Neal could see the frustration building behind Peter's eyes. He was an agent of order, someone who relied on facts and evidence to close the case. Henry, on the other hand, was a man who thrived in the gray areas, bending the rules to fit his needs. And Neal wasn't sure if that was something they could ever reconcile.

"Tell me what you want, Henry," Peter said finally, his voice cold. "And why should I help you bring down Adler? You don't have anything I want."

Henry leaned in a fraction more, his gaze piercing. "Because I can help you catch him, Peter. I can give you everything you need. You just have to trust me... and more importantly, trust that I know exactly where to strike."

Peter's eyes locked onto Henry's, sensing the power behind his words. The man had a way of making people feel like they were in the dark, even when the light was shining directly on them. It was both unsettling and compelling.

Neal shifted in his seat, feeling the weight of the silence between them. "Peter," he said quietly, his voice hesitant, "he's telling the truth. I've seen the evidence. Adler's not just an art thief. He's running a massive network. We need to act fast. Or it's going to get worse."

Peter glanced at Neal, his eyes momentarily softening. He knew the man across from him wasn't one to blindly follow anyone. Neal trusted Henry, even if it meant stepping into a world he didn't belong in.

Peter exhaled slowly, finally leaning forward. "I'm going to give you one shot, Henry," he said, his tone low but firm. "One shot to prove you're not playing me, or Neal. If you mess with me—"

"I won't," Henry interrupted, his voice calm, collected. "But we're running out of time. Adler's network is bigger than you think, and every minute we waste puts more people in danger."

Peter stared at him for a long moment. There was something in Henry's eyes—something that made him wonder if the man was more dangerous than he let on, or if he was simply the only person who knew how to bring down a criminal empire like Adler's.

"Alright," Peter said finally, breaking the silence. "You've got your shot. But make no mistake, Henry. If you're lying to me—if you're leading me into a trap—I'll come after you, just as hard as I'm coming after Adler."

Henry's eyes glinted with an unreadable emotion. "Wouldn't expect anything less, Peter."

Neal watched as Peter stood, his hand lingering briefly on his badge before he turned to leave. There was a brief moment when Peter looked at him—something like resignation in his eyes.

As Peter stepped out of the café, Neal turned to Henry, his expression a mix of exhaustion and uncertainty. "Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly. "Because this... this could all fall apart if we're not careful."

Henry gave him a slow, reassuring smile. "Trust me, Neal. It won't. We've already taken the first step. The rest is just... getting ahead of the game."

Neal wasn't so sure, but for the first time, he realized Henry might just be the only person who could play this dangerous game and come out on top.