"Well?" Ben said, sat down at the table. There were FBI agents seated all around. It was strange, sitting down with these people again. They didn't want to arrest him anymore. They needed his help. And they wanted to help him.
"We've got another report," Sadusky informed Ben as Abigail joined them as well. "Our agent's been granted free range of the community in question and has planted cameras with audio and live transmitters in the kitchen, the common room and a few hallways. She hasn't been able to place any in the bedrooms."
An agent seated down the table stopped typing away on his laptop and swung it around so the rest of the table could see.
"We've got live feed," he said. "But this was recorded a few days ago. Richards sent two clips to be looked at."
The screen was split into two smaller screens. Two women, a dark-haired one and a red-head were talking in a hallway.
"I don't know what to do anymore," the auburn-haired woman was saying, her head bowed.
"It's not my problem," the darker, older one said, her tone hard and cold.
"It's everyone's problem. The children are picking up on the atmosphere."
"Sort it out. You're the resident angel. Talk to him."
"He doesn't listen to me. He's been like this for months."
"He'll move on."
"Jim-"
"Sort it out."
The older woman walked away, leaving the other standing in the hallway.
The other screen showed the now-familiar outlay of the kitchen. Someone sat at the table, face buried in his hands.
"That's him." An agent pointed at the last screen. "Right there."
"Oh my God," Abigail said, clapped a hand over her mouth. He was alive. He was breathing. She'd known for a week, but to see it… was different.
"He doesn't look happy," the agent said.
"No," Sadusky said. "Possibly it's him the two women are talking about."
"Sir, if we move in now-"
"No," Sadusky said firmly. "We need something incriminating."
"Kidnapping's not incriminating enough?"
"We don't know whether it's kidnapping or not," Sadusky pointed out.
"Shh," Ben said, pointed to the kitchen screen. The red-haired woman walked into the kitchen.
She didn't say anything, just went to the fridge and took out two cans of Coke. Then she sat down next to Riley, slid one over to him. He didn't respond. The woman sighed.
"Riley-"
"It's been a year."
Ben bit his lip. To hear Riley's voice again… it was something he'd given up on. It was tinny through the audio transmitter, but it was unmistakable.
"You can talk to me."
"You betrayed me. I trusted you and you betrayed me. You want me to talk? Fine." Riley straightened up. To the people listening and watching an unknown distance away, his face was tired, withdrawn. "Six months ago, when you tried to win me over with your little God-heals-all spiel, I actually believed you. I believed you. I trusted you. I asked for your help. You agreed." Riley paused. "You agreed. To be specific, your words were, 'if that's what you need, I'll help you'. Then I find out on TV that my body's been found." His voice rose. It was a tone Ben had never heard before. "Too decomposed for positive ID. Dental records useless. You killed someone, so that if they actually expect foul play and decide to look for me, they'll think they'll never find me. They've stopped looking."
Riley stopped, a pained expression on his face. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped an octave.
"They've stopped looking for me. Any hope Ben or Abigail might have had is lost. Gone." He paused again, fixed the woman with an accusing glare. "And you expect me to be okay with that."
"Riley," the woman said, reached for his hand. He pulled away. "I understand. I know how difficult it is, cutting all ties like that. But you had no choice. You had to."
Riley shook his head, pushed back up from the table. There was a sharp twist at Abigail's heart when she saw how thin he was, how small he looked. Without another word, he walked out of the kitchen.
The agents around the table all started talking at once.
"One at a time," Sadusky said loudly, as if talking to a bunch of children.
"It's obvious that he did this involuntarily," a female agent said.
"Not necessarily," another dark-haired agent challenged. "The woman said, I quote, 'you had no choice'. At some point, he made a decision."
"Why would he want to escape?" a young, handsome agent disputed. "He wanted out. He wanted someone to find him."
"We don't know he wanted to escape," the dark-haired agent retorted, shook his head. "He said he wanted help. It could mean anything."
"We've got nothing concrete from that conversation to indicate that he did this voluntarily," Sadusky said. "Everything points to abduction. But still, we've got nothing solid enough to guarantee a search warrant."
"Sir, I disagree," the female agent said, raised a sheet where she'd been scribbling notes. "This quote, right here, 'You killed someone, so that if they actually expect foul play and decide to look for me, they'll think they'll never find me'… that's not solid enough?
Sadusky shook his head.
"Circumstantial. Now, if he said, 'you took me against my will', that would have been different. But he didn't." Sadusky glanced over to the civilian couple, who'd been silent throughout the conversations. "We have someone permanently monitoring the live footage. If we find anything-"
"I want to see it," Ben said. The agents exchanged a glance. Many of them had disputed Sadusky's decision to bring them into the investigation at all, but he'd ruled them as expert consultants on the grounds that they knew Riley Poole better than anyone, and that had sealed it.
"Are you sure?" Sadusky asked. "Often, there's not much to see. Just normal, everyday situations. This was an exception."
"I want to see," Ben said again. "I need to know what's going on in that house."
"Me too," Abigail said.
"Alright," Sadusky said slowly, nodded. "Agent Bishop will show you. Bishop?"
"Yes, sir," the female agent said, gathered her notes and stood up. Ben and Abigail followed her.
"I just want to say," Bishop said as they left the conference room, "that we're doing everything we can to get Mr. Poole back home. It must be difficult for you, to believe that he was dead for a year-"
"Six months," Ben corrected automatically.
"I apologize," Bishop said, stopped at a door, her hand on the handle. "But I want to warn you. After an experience like this, people change. I didn't know Mr. Poole, but from what I've heard, he was a bright, witty young man. I've spent a lot of time watching this live footage myself, and I can tell you that he's changed."
She gave them a sad look, opened the door.
Riley Poole sighed, turned the page of a magazine. He was restless. Not really concentrating.
The mornings were the worst. He was most alone then. Not that he wasn't lonely during the rest of the day, but the two kids living with him livened things up.
He glanced up at the clock on the wall, not knowing that a small camera was hidden in it. Soon Kai would be back from school and the silence would be broken. If he hadn't felt so morose, he'd have looked forward to it.
He dropped the magazine to the floor, walked over to one of the windows of the common room. This was the meeting area. The playroom. The TV room. The living room. Below, he could see the garden from the opposite side of the house. Straight across was his room, still the biggest bedroom in the house. Alex had her own room. So did Kai. To preserve the community, the rest of the female occupants shared a room and the men had a room of their own.
He'd surprised everyone and himself by finishing the system in less than three days. He worked well under pressure, and though he'd been given all the time he needed, he'd felt the atmosphere of urgency that Katie brought along with her each morning during the first few days. She'd barely left him alone for a moment. She waited until she was sure he was asleep before she left his room. And she woke him up each morning by ripping open the curtains and blinding him.
And since he'd proven himself by not trying to break out (although it was mostly fear that stopped him), it had been less than a week before he was allowed out. He'd seen many people pass through the garden below, and knew that there were a lot more people staying at this huge place.
He hadn't met everyone. There were still people who lived on the bottom floor who weren't allowed upstairs. But the people who'd been in the common room when he'd finally been allowed out, had stared at him as if he was some kind of celebrity. If he hadn't been so terrified, he might have enjoyed the attention.
Looking back, the first few weeks were easy. He was waited on hand and foot and barely had to lift a finger. Katie seemed omnipresent. She was always around. She even snuck him out some mornings to go for a long walk somewhere when she saw how desperately he gazed out the window.
He'd asked her about his things. His car. She said they still had it, but they had had it repainted and a fake registration put in place. Maybe, in a few years' time, he'd be allowed to see it again. His furniture had been sold, all the proceedings having gone into his new overseas account. His life had been condensed to a sum of money. It was immense, but untouchable. He was still a prisoner.
He'd met the kids a few weeks later. They'd known about him, asked about him. And they'd been made to promise that they would never, ever tell anyone about him. Alex was a sweet girl, always smiling. Pretty. And Kai was just… Kai. A spurt of energy in a five-year-old's body.
He liked them. They cheered him up a little. Only a little. No matter what Katie said, he'd never be able to say goodbye to his old life and accept this… hostage situation.
He didn't have much to do. There was a library of books somewhere downstairs, but he hadn't bothered. So he spent most of his time busying himself with computers, Katie always hovering, making sure he didn't try something stupid. But even if he wanted to, he couldn't. He'd detected the worm someone had placed in his system. If he sent anything out of the network, it would flare up and notify whoever had planted it. He couldn't investigate, it would show up on the computer's log. So he pretended not to know about it.
He'd found out more about them while he was working on their system, almost a year ago. They had locked files that were easy to bypass. He'd been curious. But he wished he hadn't. What he'd found scared him.
Careful, clear instructions. Blueprints of buildings. Reports. All relating to terrorism. He'd been abducted into a terrorist organization.
He wondered whether Katie knew. How many people were aware of this? How many people were innocent, living some sort of fake life believing in something that didn't exist?
He sighed, paced restlessly in front of the window. Every now and then, someone new would be introduced to him. The last person he'd recently met made a point of seeking him out whenever she visited. He didn't think much of it. Many people regarded him as some kind of celebrity. But for the past year, he'd felt as if someone had cut off one of his limbs. He was off balance. He was confused. And he was inconsolable.
He hated it here. Except for the kids, there was nothing that could make him feel better. He spent every waking moment thinking of some way to escape. He'd made the biggest mistake of telling Katie that he wasn't going to stay. They'd been walking around, and like an idiot, he'd decided to trust her. And she agreed. He should have known then that she was lying. Not even two days later, Alex had quietly slipped into his room and turned the TV on without a word. And came over to give him a hug as bulletins relayed the news of his death. He wondered how much she knew.
A door opened behind him and Riley turned as a small, dark-skinned boy whirled into the room like a little tornado.
"Riley! Guess what happened today?"
"What?" Riley sat down on the couch.
"Guess!"
"I don't know. You saw a dinosaur."
"No! Dinosaurs are extinct."
"A monkey stole your lunch."
"No! I got voted class president!"
"Wow," Riley smiled, sat down on one of the couches. Kai clambered onto him. "That's impressive. So now, what, do you get to tell people what to do?"
"When the teacher's not around, I take charge. I help her clean up the classroom after school. And I got a badge." He held out the little shiny piece of metal. Riley held out a hand, but Kai pulled it back. "Look with your eyes, not with your fingers!"
"You're getting cheeky," Riley teased, ruffled his hair. Kai grinned, clutched his badge proudly.
"Jim said I could watch some TV because I was good today."
"Alright," Riley said, started the never-ending search for the remote.
The little camera on the clock recorded everything in minute detail.
"The kid makes him look happier," Abigail said softly. She'd been close to tears earlier, when Riley had paced morosely, and restlessly flipped through a magazine.
"At least he's got something to hold on to," Ben agreed. The small monitor room was filled with six screens, four recording empty hallways and stairwells, another focused on the kitchen, and the last trained on a large hall, filled with couches and tables, and a TV. Where Riley was sitting right now, watching TV with a little boy.
"He's a prisoner," Abigail said, shaking her head.
"He's got free range of the top floor, and is downstairs at certain times." The agent in charge pointed to the kitchen. "From what I can figure out by the stairs and hallways, the kitchen is on the second floor, not ground level. The big room is on the top floor. He doesn't go down to the ground floor unless someone's with him." The blond man sat back, thumb and forefinger on his chin. "I don't think he's allowed."
"What more do you need?" Ben asked. "Isn't it clear that he's held against his own will?"
The agent shook his head.
"Sadusky wants us to hold out until we've got proof of terrorism. Our agent hasn't been able to get that proof. Yet. But it should be soon. She's gaining a reputation with someone named Jim, who seems to be the leader of the community. She'll be able to gain full access to the entire organization."
Ben sat back, pondered.
"It better be soon," he said as the figure tried to get a laughing kid off his lap. "We're going to get him out of there, with your help or without."
Aw, even if I say so myself. I hope to hell that I haven't made Ben too soppy, but I needed to show how he's feeling and in the films it's really difficult to gauge just how emotional Ben can get.