Don't Be Like That

Colonel John Casey calmly strode down a New York City street. It was a quiet late afternoon, quiet by New York standards anyway. The Colonel was basking in the post kill euphoria that he hardly experienced anymore. Not since he joined 'Team Bartowski'. These rare solo missions were an excellent chance for him to escape from the idiots back in California. Although in previous months they seemed to have become slightly less annoying.

Casey's silent musings about his life choices was cut short however by a familiar voice that Casey just could not place. It was a voice that he should remember, but for the life of him couldn't. Being in Burbank for so long was apparently making him sloppy.

Quickly scanning the crowds for the source, Casey's eyes locked onto a man ahead of him. The man was tall had black hair that was partially obscured by a fedora, and was talking to a slightly older man who appeared to be Casey's own age. It was a comfort to the Colonel to know that if the situation called for it he could easily take them both out, even if the older one was a fed.

The Colonel gradually sped up his pace so that he was following the pair at a discreet distance. There was something about the younger man that bothered Casey; he just couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly. That of course was until the young man spoke again. "Care to try again, Peter?"

That simple sentence brought the answer to mind. "Larkin." Casey hissed in a threatening tone.

It wasn't a hiss that he expected to be heard, but the young man immediately tensed up. As he turned to look behind him Casey's suspicions were confirmed. First by the distinctive blue eyes and then by the fact that the young man started to run, like a bat out of hell. Casey took off after him as the man Larkin had been with called after him. "NEAL!"

The Colonel watched as Larkin ducked into an alleyway. Casey stopped and bolted into the apartment building in front of the alley. He thundered up the stairs and into an apartment with a young woman walking out. He ran through the apartment she had been exiting and stealthily climbed out onto the fire escape.

He searched the alley below and spotted Larking by the opening, his back Casey. As quietly as he could Casey pulled his handgun out of his duffle, which also happened to hold a sniper rifle.

Casey attempted to silently jump off the metal, but no landing could be quiet enough to not alert Larking to his position. Larking spun around, only to spot Casey's gun pointed at his head. "Finally going for the head shot, I see." Larkin said pointedly.

"Well it seems you have a habit of coming back from the dead. I plan on rectifying that." Casey replied as he cocked the gun and moved slightly closer.

"Now com on, Casey, don't be like that. The whole shoot first, ask questions later thing is getting kind of old. Don't you even want to know how I survived?" The younger man asked, his face staying unnaturally calm.

"Larkin do I look like I care? All I care about is that you finally end up six feet under."

The Colonel watched as Larkin's gaze hardened as he took a step closer. "I spent four years in prison, Casey. I'm not about to let a NSA jar head ruin one of the deepest undercover missions in the CIA. As far as 99.9% of the intelligence community is concerned Bryce Larkin died in that intersect room."

Casey grunted, "So what, Larkin, you want me to pretend I never saw you? Let Chuck and Walker keep thinking you're dead?"

"That's exactly what you're going to do." Larkin said intensely.

After much thought and hesitation Casey put the handgun back in the duffle. Then as he made to push past the younger man Larkin stopped him. "How are Chuck and Sarah?"

Casey shot him a piercing look before answering. "They're coping." Then he walked out of the alley and proceeded down the crowded street.

Bryce Larkin stood in that alleyway a moment longer. He then rubbed a hand tiredly over his face and returned to the street, when he stopped and Neal Caffrey groaned. "How am I going to explain that to Peter?"