"Someone sold me out," Ellen says frankly, going to join Malcolm in the kitchen. "How do you work the French press? I've never had one. Always seemed like too much trouble."

Neal almost laughs at that, dragging a hand through his hair and giving Peter a worried look. "Someone very highly connected."

Peter nods slowly, looking sick. He pulls out his cell phone, stares at it a moment, then puts it away before Neal can protest the idea of him making a call. He looks from Ellen to Neal to Malcolm and back, lips pressed tight together. "I'd like to bring Diana and Jones in on this."