Chapter III: let's fix
The second Riley had been forced into the van a dark sack was pulled over his head so he couldn't see a damn thing. But he could tell there were at least two people with him now, one on either side of him each with a tight grip on Riley's upper arm. And if the size of their fist was any indication, Riley could easily say that these guys were huge.
The vehicle screeched to a stop and he was hustled out of that van and into another. Had Riley not been so confused and frightened, he may have considered running away or he would have at least tried to struggle, yell, fight back…something. Instead he let himself be herded around like what he would say was a big stupid wimpy excuse for a human being.
In the second van he was shoved down onto a seat and held there by hands that were now pressing down hard on his shoulders. The sack was pulled away and suddenly all Riley could see was a blinding bright light that he quickly flinched away from. When he blinked the surprise away he squinted to try to see his surroundings, but it was hard to make anything out in the darkness. He could just see through his squinting the outline of a man leering down at him from behind the light source. It was like he was in a scary interrogation room, only this particular interrogation room was really inside of a moving van.
"Hey, what the hell is going on?" Riley said when the man standing before him remained silent for a long, tense moment.
His question was answered by a hand that came seemingly out of nowhere to smack him across the face.
"Ah, God," Riley hissed as he flinched back from the sharp slap. "What was that for?"
"You are the one known as Riley Poole?"
Riley jumped slightly at the booming, gruff voice.
"You are Riley Poole, yes or no?!"
Though it was still yelling at him, Riley could just discern a strange accent to the voice. It was a heavy accent, maybe from some kind of Eastern European country, but he couldn't be sure in his current state. When he didn't answer the interrogator right away, he was slapped again.
"Ow! Damn it…"
"Is your name Riley Poole?!?!"
"Yeah, yeah," Riley answered quickly. "I'm Riley Poole. What do you want my autograph or something? Cause there are much easier and less…painful ways to get one, you know…"
Another slap to his already stinging cheek.
"Ahh, quit it already!" Riley yelled.
"Your name, Riley Poole, is an anagram for Reiy Polloe?" the voice yelled.
"What?!" Riley cried. It took him a second before the strange question registered in his brain. "My name…well, I dunno…how do you spell it?"
Surprisingly, he wasn't slapped that time.
"R-E-I-Y P-O-L-L-O-E," the voice answered monotonically.
Riley thought hard for a second. "Umm…yeah, sure. If you flip the letters around a little it's my name…"
That time he was slapped.
"Ow, what the hell?!" Riley cried out in frustration. "I just answered your freaking question!"
"Is Reiy Polloe a code name for Riley Poole?"
"For…for me?" Riley was very confused now. "Ah…no. I mean, I didn't make it up. Maybe you're looking for another Riley Poole? See, I'm the famous one. I'm the treasure hunter who—"
The man in the dark was quick to cut him off. "You are the assistant to treasure hunter and American historian Benjamin Franklin Gates, who is credited with finding both the Knights of the Templar treasure and Cibola, the lost city of gold. You wrote a book after the former discovery, which has sold less than two hundred copies worldwide since it was published three months ago."
Riley felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Well…I'm just…underappreciated, that's all…"
"You are also a very skilled computer technician, who has hacked into many systems that were believed to be unhackable."
"That's what this is about? Listen—I'm buddies with the President…you know, the president of the United States of America. I'm sure he could clear all this up, no problem…"
The voice ignored him and continued. "You sometimes operate under the alias 'Rei Polloe' while working for a highly classified government agency created to spy on terrorist organizations and dangerous international criminals like me and my associates."
Riley blinked up at the man's dark silhouette. "Um…I do?"
"You have recently hacked into our system and encrypted a number of very important files. You tell us what you've found and I can assure you your death will be quick and painless—for the most part."
"What?!" Riley shrieked, as his initial confusion quickly turned to panic. "But…but I didn't do any of that secret…whatever stuff! I swear to God I have no idea what you're talking about…this is all just a…a huge misunderstanding, so if you could just swing back to my place and drop me off, I think we can both just forget this whole thing ever happened…."
The voice actually laughed, though the sound of it made Riley's skin crawl. "So you have chosen the hard way. I will extract the information from you, one way or another, you will see—or not, depending on if I decide to take your eyes as a trophy before I finally kill you."
Riley paled considerably. Not his big blues! "That's just…sick, man, really…"
The owner of the voice leaned down closer to him, all the while managing to keep his face hidden in shadow. "I suggest you start talking."
"B-but…I'm not…you've got the wrong guy, really!"
He struggled to get up off his seat but the silent grips on his shoulders tightened as he distinctly heard the man in front of him cracking his knuckles.
"Ahh, wait…wait!" Riley yelled. "Please…I have no idea what you're talking about, I swear!"
The man let out a chilling laugh. "Let me refresh your memory for you. In five minutes time you will be begging me to let you talk."
"Oh, God," Riley whimpered, feeling very helpless. "Why me…"
He flinched and squeezed his eyes shut as the shadowed figure pulled back his massive fist. A deafening bang followed that sent Riley toppling sideways out of the grips on his shoulders and out of his seat completely, though he had felt nothing strike his face. When he opened his eyes he saw that he wasn't the only one who'd tipped over. The three men that were with him in the van had all lost their footing with surprised yells and were sliding to the left as the van teetered precariously for a moment on two wheels before falling completely to its side.
Riley couldn't even yell as his entire world was suddenly spun around. He was thrown bodily against the van's interior while the vehicle rolled downward, tossing its passengers around violently as it fell. He imagined it felt like being a pin ball as he was bounced back and forth between walls of the van and knocked against the heavy metal furniture and the bodies of the scary men who had been threatening to kill him just moments before.
Riley feared for a fleeting moment that he would vomit all over himself when suddenly he heard a crunch and everything was still. He was slammed one last time against what was now the floor, but had once been the dark van's ceiling. The wind was knocked out of him, but after taking a few deep, calming breaths, Riley managed to force himself up onto his shaky legs. He did a quick physical check and concluded that he was fine, save for some bruises he no doubt sustained in the jolting crash. That and his nerves were terribly rattled.
The lamp had exploded with the impact but light was still pouring into the broken space. The back door of the van was popped open, bathing the small, dark space in morning light. Riley scrambled over the upturned chair and through the opening just as he heard groaning coming from the bodies lying behind him. His captors were recovering from the crash and would no doubt soon be coming after him again. And while Riley still had no idea what the scary foreign guy had been talking about, he definitely didn't want to stick around and see if the man followed through with his threats.
"Whoa," Riley gasped in awe as he stumbled out of the massive wreckage and took a look around. It was probably a miracle he and any of the other guys in the van were even alive. To Riley's left was a steep, grassy hill. At the top some thirty or forty feet up was the road with its guard rail broken and twisted from where the van had apparently plowed sideways through it. The right side of the overturned black van was even indented strangely. Further examination of the impression's shape led Riley to believe that a smaller vehicle had driven head first into the van in order to force it off the road. He couldn't even imagine the damage the other car must have sustained—the little car that had ultimately saved his life.
But Riley didn't have even a second to thank whatever higher power had attributed to his survival. A broad shouldered bald and furious looking man was emerging from the back of the van. Riley took one quick glimpse of the man before he took off sprinting in the opposite direction. He zigged through the clump of trees that had stopped the van's decent and zagged down the rest of the hill to another road where cars were already stopping to gawk at the bizarre, smoking accident. He ignored them all and kept running, pushing his aching body to its physical limits.
"Gotta…keep…booking it," Riley gasped under his breath. He needed to motivate himself to keep going or he was going to collapse right then and there in the middle of the street. "Weird guys…gonna kill me… Gotta run…gotta…hide…"
He ran to an intersection and turned right in the hopes of losing the people that might not even be still chasing him in the first place. Riley's biggest mistake was that he failed to look both ways before crossing the next street.
An oncoming little red sports car screeched to a stop directly in his path. But Riley couldn't skid to a halt quick enough and he soon found himself splattered face first against the small car's driver's side window.
"Ow," he groaned with his cheek stuck against the smooth glass. He forced his eyes open and was surprised to see a very bewildered looking young woman staring back at him from the other side of the window. The first thing he noticed was how strikingly beautiful she was, though she was the opposite of his dream girl in every way, what with her dark hair and even darker eyes. But she took his breath away just the same, even when he noticed a second thing—how absolutely ridiculous he must have looked with his face pressed against her window.
"Ah, geez," he mumbled as he unstuck his cheek from the glass and winced at the imprint he'd left on it. "Sorry…I didn't mean to run into your car or anything…I'll just…go…"
He took a sudden step back while he apologized, expecting her to look like he was a crazy person and drive off. That's what most women did when they met him anyway, even if he wasn't plastering his face to their car windows in the middle of the street. But she didn't look angrily at him—she didn't even stare at him like he was a disgusting parasite of some sort. She just kept a grim, straight to business expression as she rolled down her window with the click of a button and called out to him:
"Riley Poole, you need to come with me. Now."
Holy crap it's snowing outside… :)
I know I don't usually badger you guys for reviews or whatever, but now that this story is really going somewhere I'd like to hear everyone's opinions of it. To my regular reviewers thus far—you guys are awesome :) I feel bad that I like never respond, so thanks LoremIpsum (my almost neighbor and most valued reviewer—your words are always very helpful), Miss Fenway (your enthusiasm is always much appreciated), smileyalli (that won't be the first of the cliffhangers, trust me), LazyChestnut (ha, there's no better compliment than marriage proposal, I suppose), broadwaylover07 (I forgive you, and you've totally called Riley's worsening day), Jedi'Pirate Jaeh (I used to drink a shit load of coffee just to function, but now I'm like "ew coffee's gross," and I actually had to look up IMHO because I am internet acronym retarded apparently), and master of time (well hello to you, too).
Oh and happy Halloween, kids :) I'll be the wasted Jaina Solo with a plastic purple lightsaber wishing I was still a child (again).
