Disclaimer: It is my obligation as the author to give the usual spiel about not owning the characters of Ian Howe, Benjamin Gates or Riley Poole. However, the characters of Riley's coworker and boss are mine.

I am not sure if this story will lead to other stories or it will be a one-shot. I do know that after five years of sitting on my hard drive, it is time to do or die. So, I post it here, because deleting five years' worth of work is not appealing to me in the least. This is my first story in this genre and I am curious to see what, if any, reception it gets. Enjoy! Keep in mind, most of this was done in 2005 with only occasional edits in the intervening years. It is so easy to lose track of a muse in that length of time.

Chapter 1

Riley followed Ben out of the smoldering wreckage. A cold chill, unrelated to the Arctic climate, snaked through Riley's whole body as he saw what was left of the ship and realized just how close they had really come to being annihilated.

"There's an Inuit village about nine miles east of here," Ben said casually, as he consulted his compass to verify the correct direction to take. "It's popular with bush pilots."

"All right," Riley said uncertainly, breathless from shock. How could Ben be so blasé after what had just happened? "Then what are we going to do?"

"Start making our way home," Ben replied as he started walking.

No shit, Ben, I thought we could just camp out here in the snow and cold until the magical fairies find us, Riley thought as he followed his friend away from the Charlotte. "No, I mean about Ian. He's gonna steal the Declaration of Independence, Ben!"

Ben stopped walking and turned to face Riley, a look of abject determination dominating his features. "We stop him," he said simply.

Easier said than done, Riley thought as the started their trek across the snowy wilderness. Maybe it was the trauma from almost dying twice in the space of five minutes, but something had eroded the confidence he had felt when he had first arrived at the site.

Perhaps, he had been naïve to think that the idea of a massive treasure wouldn't seduce the group's members into turning against each other. Maybe he had really been suspicious of Ian and his cohorts all along and he hadn't wanted to admit these negative vibes, though his intuition had repeatedly sent up red flags.

The walk to the village seemed endless. The sunlight on the stark white ground hurt his eyes and made him slightly disoriented. Riley could feel the cold wind stinging his face and his legs increasingly felt like solid lead as he trudged through the deep, crunchy snow. He averted from the horizon to his feet as he walked and that helped his eyes, but his mind kept up its dizzying array of thoughts. He felt like everything that he had believed to be true had been turned upside-down. He couldn't help but think that the events had all but proved the probability of a treasure map on the Declaration of Independence.

Now, stop it, Poole, he scolded. Since when did he believe in intangibles? Don't go diving off the deep end because of someone else's greed. There is no freaking treasure map on the back of the Declaration of Independence! It's just a fairy tale and you stopped believing those years ago.

He looked up at the back of Ben's head. Ben had accepted the clue to be true and he was the antithesis of insane. However, while Ian had seemed temperamental, he had never acted delusional. His sudden impulse to kill for a probably nonexistent treasure left Riley in doubt of the older man's true mental state.

Well done, Riley, he thought. You've really hooked up with a bunch of winners this time. This even tops that hacker crowd that tried to recruit you to wire money out of those Swiss bank accounts.

Oh, shut up, the less cynical half of his mind countered. How was I supposed to see this coming? I knew Ian was crazy about finding the treasure, but I didn't think he was batshit crazy.

Wake up, Poole! How long will you keep blindly putting your trust in people? They will only screw you over for it.

Ben didn't screw me over. He could have gone along with Ian and protected his interests and his life. But, he risked it all to save my life. Why? Technically, my work with him was done when we found the Charlotte. He has nothing to gain from such an act. Therefore, he isn't like everyone else.

He might act like this now, but he will get tired of you eventually, Poole. When you are no longer useful to him and his treasure-hunting cause, you will be lucky if he doesn't try to kill you as well.

Of all the people on the expedition, Riley had been with the group the shortest amount of time, only a few months. To think, if he hadn't ever met Benjamin Gates and Ian Howe, he would still be an office assistant and his life would be ensured right now. That was what he got for wishing for a less mundane existence outside of his windowless cubicle.