Hospital. Sunday morning. January 11, 2004.

"My plan wasn't exactly illegal," Neal had protested.

"Breaking and entering," Peter countered.

"Jeremiah has the keys."

"Permission to use those keys extends to his employees, which you are not. And you'd be tampering with evidence."

Their debate ended when Peter parked at the hospital, where they took an official statement from Jebediah Acres. Jeb admitted to using buildings belonging to his brother's clients to store loot from several crimes over the years, and said five caches still remained hidden.

Peter handed a camera to Neal, to document Jeb's injuries. Neal guessed it was Peter's goal to impress on him how dangerous it was to stay involved with his old partners in crime. It was certainly sobering, especially when he recognized the name of the person who'd beaten Jeb. "Yeah, Wilkes is bad news," Neal said as he handed the camera back to Peter. "He's certainly capable of double-crossing his partners for their take, and of hurting other people in the process."

"Chances are he's already collected the jewels Jeb hid for his crew, but I've got the police checking it out, and they're on the lookout for Wilkes," Peter said. "That leaves four more locations for us to check, and we're doing this by the book."

Going by the book meant a long lunch break while they waited for approval to collect the loot. Peter filled in his boss and then called members of his team to help. Clinton Jones, Tricia Wiese, and Jorge Badillo contacted the owners of the buildings to get their permission for a team to enter their premises.

Neal recommended bringing a reporter along. It would look impressive for the FBI to be seen recovering stolen goods from multiple major thefts, and more importantly it would quickly get the word out to the public that the goods were in the hands of the Feds. That way the Acres family should be safe from criminals desperate to collect their loot when word of Jeb's impending death spread.

Peter embraced the idea, and consulted with Hughes on which reporter would be best. They settled on Fayza Al-Razi, an up-and-coming crime reporter at a local television station. She and a cameraman met them at the first location. As both Peter and Neal intended to continue undercover work, neither of them went on camera. Instead they invited Tricia Wiese to act as the face of the FBI.

Following the instructions in Jeb's log of hiding places, Tricia led them to the roof of a hotel. Jeremiah pried open one of the massive air-conditioning units. He noted that the unit wasn't connected to the wiring, and then lifted out part of the mechanism. Wearing latex gloves, Tricia retrieved what looked like a tool box, and opened it to reveal gold Krugerrands as the news team watched.

Fayza gave her cameraman a high-five. "We're going to be the lead story tonight!" she declared. "Let's get going. I want to hit all four locations and edit the footage before the five o'clock news."

Carmen Fuentes, head of the FBI's New York Evidence Response Team unit, gave instructions to two of her team members. They would document exactly what was found and where, and then take the gold back to the Federal Building, where they would look for prints on the gold pieces. That would help them corroborate the names Jeb had listed as the members of the crew who planned to retrieve the gold when they were released from prison for stealing it.

In the second location, Tricia led the way to the basement of an apartment building, where she unlocked a utility room. Directing her flashlight at a furnace that groaned like an otherworldly creature, they saw a metal box welded to the back. Jeremiah used his tools to open the box, revealing a cache of stunning diamonds. Two more of Carmen's team members took possession of the box and started to process the scene.

Before leaving for the third location, Tricia pulled Peter aside, out of earshot of the news team. "Do you remember the manhunt after the Federal Reserve heist a few months ago?"

His eyes widened. "You think that money is what's waiting for us at the next location?"

"Everything in Jeb's notes fits. The amount of money, the timing of when he hid it. He named David Lawrence as the person who owns this stash, and he was our prime suspect. This isn't like the rest of the loot. It's bulky, and we'll need an armored truck to transport it."

"Good point. Let's make that our last destination. Call Hughes about the truck. I'll get Jones and Badillo to meet us. They helped with the paperwork; seems only fair they should get to enjoy part of the treasure hunt."

Tricia's eyes were shining. She bit her lip and then asked, "Would it be okay to bring my sons? They never get to see me work, and this... this is going to be spectacular."

Peter thought it over. "I guess it's safe enough for civilians. David Lawrence fled the country months ago, and doesn't know where the money is hidden."

Tricia checked her notes. "Actually, Lawrence does know. He insisted on it, and since he didn't have a crew to split the money among, Jeb went along with it. But you're right, Lawrence can't get here to stop us, and I can't imagine he trusted anyone else with the location of the cash."

"Fayza," Peter called out as the reporter and her crew loaded their equipment into the news van. "Change in plans. Our next stop is the warehouse on the river, and we'll end in Chelsea."

"Sure." She walked over. "With the footage I'm getting this afternoon, I'm willing to be flexible."

"One other thing," Peter said. "We're inviting some people to join us in Chelsea. They were affected by the guy who stole the loot hidden there, and we'd like them to see it recovered. We don't want them on camera."

Fayza pursed her lips. "I hate losing reaction shots, but let's face it, in this case the money shot is, well, the money. I'm okay with it."

After Fayza walked away, Neal asked Tricia, "How was your family affected by Lawrence?"

"I worked unbelievable overtime searching for him and the money he stole. Celebrating with my family that he'll never see that money again, that's payback."

Peter nodded. "Speaking of which, I need to call El. She deserves payback, too." He pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

When they entered the warehouse on the river, Tricia looked around and groaned. "I thought there'd be a staircase, or a ladder. The container is on the third rafter." She pointed with her flashlight, the light barely making a dent in the darkness so far above.

"Is it welded to the rafter?" Neal asked.

"No. The container is small enough that it rests on one of the purlins. Jeb called it a Z-section in his notes."

Jeremiah nodded. "This way." He adjusted the angle of the flashlight. "Fourth one."

The warehouse was used to store auto parts, and the shelves were strong and steady to bear the weight. "Do you have extra gloves?" Neal asked, and Tricia handed him a set of latex gloves. He pulled them on, and put his outdoor gloves over them to protect them from getting torn. Looking at Fayza he said, "I'll pull up the hood on my jacket. Try to avoid recording my face, okay?"

She nodded and then Neal stepped onto the first shelf under the point where the third rafter met the fourth purlin.

"What are you doing?" Peter called out.

Neal kept scaling the shelves, with the news crew shining a light on him. He pulled himself onto the top shelf and stood up. The cameraman's light moved to illuminate a gray tube about the length of a roll of wrapping paper but wider, resting on the steel purlin. Neal put his winter gloves in his jacket pockets, ready to make his grab for the tube. Standing on tiptoes, he reached up. With one hand he held the purlin, and with the other he reached for the tube. It started to fall and he leaned over to catch it, hanging from the purlin by one hand as his feet left the shelf. With the tube secure, he let go of the purlin, landing on the top shelf. He slid the tube down the back of his jacket to hold it in place and climbed back down.

With his back to the camera, Neal freed the tube from his jacket and handed it to Tricia. She popped one of the ends open and looked inside. "We're not in Kansas anymore." She tilted the tube and two sparkly, ruby slippers slid out. "I'd read that a pair of shoes used in filming The Wizard of Oz were stolen from a museum recently." She held the shoes up in her latex-gloved hands for the cameraman and answered questions from Fayza before turning the shoes over to another member of Carmen's team.

On their way out, Tricia shook her head and Neal asked, "Something wrong?"

"I kept wondering what Judy Garland's shoe size was."

"Tempted to try them on?"

She nodded.

"What's the big deal? Back when Peter recruited me, I offered to help find a stolen Aston Martin from the Bond movies if I could drive it afterward. He wouldn't go for it."

"We're professionals. We're not supposed to play with evidence." But she smiled as she said it.

On the drive to the final location, Neal admitted, "Taking the legal route was more fun than I expected."

Peter looked satisfied. "And we make a good team. The way you clambered up to that hiding spot still has me scratching my head. Where did you learn to do that?"

"A few escapades in Europe," Neal said. "Someone I worked with liked to approach things from above and to hide things up high."

"You didn't say much about Europe in your confession. Is that going to come back to bite us?"

Us. Neal liked the sound of that. "Not as long as our jurisdiction remains limited to the States. Speaking of ancient history, I'm glad I could come along for your birthday adventure."

"Hey, I'm not ancient!" Peter paused. "How'd you know it was my birthday? I thought I'd managed to keep that a secret."

"It's one of the details I came across when I learned you were leading the team looking for me. 'Know your enemy,' as Mozzie would say. He loves quoting The Art of War. And with that advice in mind, I did some research."

"You did the research, or Henry?"

"I may have asked Henry to use his Win-Win resources on my behalf occasionally. With everything going on the last few days it slipped my mind, but he reminded me at the train station. If you're right about him faking the pain last night, I gotta think this was part of his plan. He'd love the idea of sending us on a treasure hunt, especially on your birthday."

"A little father-figure and son bonding time?" Peter pulled into a parking space. "I hope you're enjoying the treasure hunt as much as I am, but don't forget the lesson from this morning. You've got some dangerous people in your past, and the best way to stay safe from them is to work with me, not against me. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it."

With that out of the way, Peter smiled again. "El's going to love hearing about the ruby slippers. She'll enjoy that more than finding the gold."

Neal laughed. "We're both mentally spinning the stories we're going to tell about this. I'm planning to make Henry regret that he didn't stick around another day to help out."

At the Chelsea Fencing Club, Jeremiah, Peter, Tricia, Carmen, and Neal were joined by Jones, Badillo, Trica's sons, and El. The room where the club members socialized was half the size of a basketball court, with wide windows and a high ceiling over a hardwood floor.

Not wanting to interrupt the proceedings, Neal didn't mention that he'd fenced here a few times under his Gary Rydell alias. In fact, he'd practiced with David Lawrence a few times, and was a little miffed that Lawrence hadn't invited him to join the Federal Reserve heist.

He looked at the foils and sabres and wondered if he could find time to practice again. Working a legitimate job and preparing for the Masterson con didn't leave much time for hobbies. Maybe he could come back here in the summer.

As everyone gathered, Fayza interviewed Jeremiah, who gave an emotional statement about his brother. "I wish he'd confided in me. We could have found an answer. I know we could have. There's only one way out for him now. At least before he dies he'll know that the people who did this to him will pay. They'll never see the loot they made him hide, and the FBI knows who they are. I hope they rot in jail, every last one of them."

Neal flinched at those words. He rarely thought of his own crimes as hurting anyone, and assumed his victims didn't take the losses personally. Most had insurance and could simply buy a new toy or piece of artwork to replace what he'd taken, assuming they even noticed the loss. In many instances he'd left magnificent forgeries. Did any of his victims or former partners in crime feel Jeremiah's level of anger toward him? It was disconcerting to consider.

Tricia took the spotlight next, describing to Fayza what they believed was hidden behind two of the vents in this room. They'd looked with binoculars and had seen the distinctive green of American currency behind those vents, proving that Lawrence hadn't already returned to recover his loot.

It raised the question of whether Lawrence had influenced Wilkes. Convince a criminal with anger issues to kill the one person who knows where your loot is hidden? Neal's hands curled into fists.

Tricia handed a remote to Fayza. "The thief who hid his money here had a strong sense of drama. This will redirect the airflow to those blocked vents and shower us with money. Care to do the honors?"

A delighted Fayza pressed the button. The vents were only loosely attached, and blew out into the room as sixty million dollars filled the air like confetti over a parade. El and Tricia's kids squealed, as did Fayza, who laughed and applauded in front of the camera.

El took Peter's hand and squeezed it. "Thanks, hon. It's fantastic to witness this part of your work in person."

He beamed at her and said, "Let's call my folks, and tell them to record the news tonight. Even if I'm not shown, they can know it's my case."

"Who says you can't be in the picture?" El tugged at his hand. "C'mon. It's still raining money, and we'll be a blur between the bills if we run. Race you!" She winked at Neal.

Neal ran after them, jumping on a pile that had accumulated on the floor and letting his momentum carry him as if he were surfing. Tricia's kids followed, and Badillo lay on the floor making the equivalent of snow angels in the carpet of money. Jones had left to bring in bags for carrying the cash out to the armored truck, and he gawked at the antics of his coworkers while the news team packed up and left to meet their deadline. "What's going on?" he asked, as Tricia threw money at him. "There could be fingerprints on that."

"Nope," she said. "Jeb said in his notes that Lawrence always handled the money with gloves, but he did help set up the ventilation bypass with his bare hands. Turns out Jeb thought Lawrence was a jerk and made sure he left evidence in case he tried to pull a double-cross." She waved to Carmen, who was examining the vents that had fallen to the floor. "How's it looking, Carmen?" she asked.

Carmen waved back. "Multiple full and partial prints. We'll nail this guy."

While Carmen completed her work, everyone else stuffed cash into the bags Jones had brought. The agents told stories about old FBI cases and unusual places where loot had been found.

"You're quiet," El said to Neal.

"Don't want to incriminate myself," he quipped as he gathered money into stacks around him. He paused and met her eyes. "But I'm giving a lot of thought to incriminating other people — like the guy who stole this money, and the one who hurt Jeb. When we're done here, I'll tell Peter what I know about them."

"Good," El said. "It's the right thing to do, and it'll make Peter proud."

"Seems like the least I can do, for his birthday. I'd forgotten about it. Didn't even get him a card." Neal shrugged. "I don't really do birthdays, you know? Henry always plans something for mine, so I try to top that when his birthday rolls around, but that's it."

El stuffed another handful of cash into a bag. "There might be something else you could do. I noticed you have a lovely singing voice."

Neal shrugged.

"There's a big slice of homemade Italian cream cake waiting for you at the house if you'll lead this group in singing the birthday song for Peter."

"I assumed Peter's the type who hates that. He didn't let on about his birthday at the office."

"True. He'll squirm and complain and be uncomfortable, but a part of him will be pleased, especially if you initiate it."

Neal nodded and carried a bag of cash to where Jones was collecting them, and he spoke to everyone except Peter on his way back to El. With his accomplices lined up, he belted out the first line. "Happy birthday to you!"

Peter glared at Neal as everyone else joined in for the next line.

El went solo for "Happy birthday, dear Peter!"

They all added their voices for the final line. Tricia's boys yelled and cheered, and the adults applauded.

"Thank you, Neal," El said. A moment later she frowned.

"What's wrong?" Neal asked her.

"How will we ever top this next year?"

A/N: I wouldn't be surprised to learn serious protocols were broken by bringing civilians to the reveal of the last hiding place. I hope you'll forgive me in the name of birthday fluff. Also, the ruby slippers were really stolen from a museum after this story takes place, but they were simply too good to pass up.

You may have recognized references to White Collar episode On Guard, which featured thief David Lawrence and the cash he hid at the fencing club. Wilkes appeared in the episode Front Man. I also reference the Judgment Day episode where Neal carries and bobbles a tube containing a priceless painting. There are a few Easter eggs pointing forward to Silbrith's stories, where she describes Neal's adventures in Europe and his comfort (and occasional discomfort) with heights.

The next story in this series is Caffrey Envoy.