Vault of the Oracle
Chapter 8: Desperate Measures
A/N- And so ends my spring break productivity. Back to real life. Writing fanfiction doesn't count for English credit... sob. But I promise I'll have Ben out of jail as soon as possible.
Thanks to all who've reviewed, and enjoy!
The next time Abigail woke up was much more comfortable than the first. She was actually lying on a bed, for one thing. Briefly she entertained the idea that she'd dreamed the earlier incident, but opening her eyes and noting the unfamiliar surroundings shot that down quickly. She wasn't tied up anymore, though... that was one plus.
Trying to stand was harder than it ought to have been. Her head started spinning in protest immediately, and a splitting pain shot through her skull. Aftereffects from being drugged, she assumed. She hoped.
A quick inspection told her very little. The furniture was the sort of generic style found in hotels, but looked a bit too high-quality for this to actually be a hotel. That or it was a really good hotel. Unlikely, she decided, because there were no windows. There was an attached bathroom, which was fortunate; an inspection in the mirror told her about what she already knew. Her reflection looked rather disheveled, but unmarked and uninjured.
The door which presumably led out of the room was locked. Not that she'd really expected otherwise.
A bedside table held a pitcher of water, a glass, and a note. The handwriting was painstakingly neat. Drink, you'll need to recover from the anesthetic. Right. She was thirsty, but she wasn't stupid... ignoring the pitcher, she filled the glass in the bathroom sink and gulped the water down. The headache improved, a little bit. That was something.
According to her watch, it was just a little before noon. She'd been returning from an evening meeting when they'd taken her, so she'd been out for quite some time. Ouch.
...Wait...
According to her watch?
They hadn't taken her watch, though it was a fairly expensive piece. She checked; the kidnappers hadn't touched her earrings, either. Needless to say, it made no sense to hold someone for ransom and not take their jewelry. Truthfully, the more she looked around, the less likely the ransom idea got. Whoever lived in this place didn't need ransom money.
That made their motives downright mystifying. Politics? The voices she'd heard first hadn't been speaking English... international espionage? Abigail laughed a little at that idea. The situation was odd, yes, but there was no need to be ridiculous about it.
Less speculation, more action. She picked up the note, folded it a few times, and slid it between the door and the wall. Doubtful this would work, but she didn't exactly have any better lock picking tools...
The door opened. "Awake at least, Dr. Chase? Excellent."
--
Ben was pacing the cell, unable to calm down despite his dad's repeated requests. They'd placed them together, which was something. He hadn't really expected that... though he wasn't sure the officers were quite sure what to do with them. The crime itself, according to one of the guards, wasn't worth the security level they were under.
The fact that he was Ben Gates, on the other hand...
Fame really did have its downsides. But in all honesty, being locked up wasn't what bothered Ben the most.
"Who could've taken her?" he hissed for the fifth time in the last hour. It was incredibly frustrating. He knew for a fact he hadn't kidnapped Abigail. Any other crime, he could've handled waiting for it to be sorted out. But a kidnapping... if he hadn't abducted his old girlfriend, who had? Was she alright? How in the world would law enforcement find her, operating on the very flawed premise they'd gone in with? She could be anywhere by now.
Patrick had stopped answering him, accepting that Ben would have to talk himself out of his mood. In a way, he wished Riley were here; the kid was good at distracting him. On the other hand, he certainly didn't want Riley in prison, any more than he wanted his father or himself in prison.
It would all work out. It had to. But would it be too late? He stopped walking and clenched his fists. Only the knowledge that he was innocent was keeping him sane right now, and that was fraying. "There's got to be some way this could be worse. Right?"
"Oh, sure." Patrick looked up from studying the concrete floor. "Your mother could decide tomorrow's the one day a month that she'll actually pay attention to current news, and come to give us a lecture."
He had a point, though not the way he thought he did. Emily didn't really read the papers, so maybe she wouldn't find out. The least he could do, if he was going to be falsely accused of a crime, was not worry his mother.
--
Abigail tensed, ready to either punch the man in front of her or dart past him, whichever opened up first. By contrast, he looked quite relaxed. She sized him up. Probably in his thirties, dark hair, average build, wearing a suit. She rather doubted anyone looking for a struggle would be wearing a suit. Then she remembered Ben's theft of the Declaration of Independence.
Though he hadn't really been looking for a struggle there.
He gave a stiff bow. "I am Elias, and I am at your service. If you are well enough to be up and about, please come with me. I'm certain you have many questions." From his careful, slightly slow speech, she assumed English wasn't his first language—perhaps he'd been one of the voices she had heard before. In fact, he looked similar to the man who'd been waiting at her house, though she hadn't gotten a good look there. For obvious reasons.
Somehow, getting kidnapped and treated politely was a lot worse than if he'd told her to go back in before he tied her up again. "How about you answer some questions before I go anywhere?" she suggested, eyes narrowed.
Elias gave a shrug that was almost apologetic. "I am afraid I can't give you any answers. If you'll follow, my employer will explain everything."
It occurred to Abigail that if she followed, she had a much better chance of finding a way out—or barring that, at least getting some sense of where she was. So she nodded. "All right, lead on."
He bowed again. That would get annoying really quickly... his demeanor would've been comical, really, except that he seemed completely sincere. If this was an act, he was an awfully good actor. If it was a mockery, she wasn't amused. But taking him at face value might be a good way to start out. She trailed him down a hallway painted pale gray and covered in paintings depicting mythological scenes. Not her area of expertise, but she couldn't help admiring the work. Elias didn't try to direct her attention anywhere else.
This wasn't what hostage situations were supposed to be like. It really wasn't.
The hallway ended in a long spiraling staircase, and it was there Abigail got her first look out a window. She stopped walking.
It's almost dark.
"Is something wrong, Dr. Chase?"
She looked back at her watch. Definitely working. Definitely noon. She opened her mouth to say something about that, then shut it again. First, he wouldn't answer her. Second, everything was starting to make sense now. A little. "Other than being a hostage? Nothing."
Apparently he had no good answer to that, so he just kept walking.
Abigail took careful note of the surroundings as she followed. Nothing that resembled a way out had shown itself thus far, but from the scale of the place, that didn't really surprise her. If she'd had any lingering suspicions about ransom, they were gone now. It had to be something else... and that was more than a little worrisome.
"In here," Elias commented, opening a door and turning to her. He bowed again. Irritating.
'In here' was probably a sun room, though there wasn't any sun to speak of at the moment. Abigail glanced at her watch again, more out of habit than because she expected to learn something useful. I will explain when we land. The question was not how far away they'd taken her, but what country she'd wound up in. The architecture struck her as somewhat Byzantine, which didn't much narrow it down.
A woman was standing there staring out a window, and looked up, seeming briefly startled. What, wasn't she expecting me? This is getting stranger and stranger. Her hair was a shade darker than her servant's, and her eyes were piercing green. She smiled. "Ah, Dr. Chase." Abigail immediately recognized her voice. "I do sincerely apologize for this inconvenience. Sit, please."
That instruction was bizarre enough to not be worth arguing. So Abigail sat on the nearest couch, glanced back and noted that Elias was gone, and returned her full attention to her other captor. "So let me get this straight. You drug me, tie me up, transport me through several time zones, and now you're apologizing for the inconvenience."
"Yes," she agreed with a slight frown, "that's about what it comes down to."
"Then you'll understand if I'm not really taking the apology seriously."
The woman sighed. "I understand, of course. But it is offered in all seriousness. This is not how I'd have preferred we meet, but the matter was quite urgent. So here you are." She crossed the room and sat in a delicately carved chair, her eyes locking on Abigail. "My name is Selene, and I welcome you to Silvermoon Manor. I hope that, despite the circumstances of your presence, you are at least comfortable."
Abigail scowled at her. Yes, the accommodations were fine, but that was not the primary topic here.
To her credit, Selene picked up on her expression nicely. "Very well. It is answers you want, and answers you shall have." Her eyes narrowed. "Documents were recently uncovered hinting at a hidden cache of artifacts from the oracle of Delphi. Those who made the discovery have enlisted the aid of the greatest treasure hunter in the world—your former boyfriend—to locate the vault itself. He must not succeed. This is a desperate measure, no doubt, but quite necessary."
Ben's doing what? Abigail hesitated. When she'd met Riley in the Library of Congress, he'd been carrying a book about Crete. Now that made sense, at least. Actually, now a lot of things made sense. But something wasn't adding up. "You kidnapped me because Ben's looking for another treasure? Why would you do that if you know he's my former boyfriend?"
Shrug. "Simply put, we framed him for your disappearance. And if you are willing to testify that he was the one who abducted you, we will return you to Washington with all haste."
"You want me to what?" she repeated, briefly wondering if she'd heard correctly. "You want me to lie under oath to get Ben thrown in jail, just so the people who kidnapped me can find a treasure before he gets—"
"No," Selene cut her off, looking slightly flustered. "We are not looking for the vault. And kindly stop referring to it as a 'treasure', it was not hidden away for its value. The oracle, a direct conduit to the gods, would have been presented with great riches... but also items of great danger. It is best for all that they be left alone and forgotten. My duty is to keep these artifacts from being discovered, by any means."
Abigail stared at the woman, reassessing. She was well-spoken, clearly intelligent, clearly rich. And clearly crazy. "Items of great danger? You mean cursed?"
"That is close enough."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I am not." Selene sighed. "Do not misunderstand; your reaction does not surprise me. It is quite unfair that you must be inconvenienced by his stubbornness, but so be it. You will be well taken care of during your stay here... but if you will not assist me in this matter, I'm afraid I cannot let you leave."
--
Riley sat back and scowled at his computer screen, which he seemed to do a lot. He didn't like what it was telling him at all. It wasn't really the machine's fault (it never was), but he kept glaring at it anyway. "That's a letdown, circuit-brain. A big letdown."
No bail. No trial set. Visitors were allowed, but Riley didn't want to visit... didn't want to give anyone the chance to recognize him. That would make things much easier later. The investigators, realizing the scale of this case, were being very obliging about getting in front of cameras and spouting off, but not so helpful about giving useful information.
What would he do with useful information, anyway?
It was just a simple prison break. Stealing the Declaration, hacking Buckingham Palace, those had been much higher risk. So why was he so worried?
There's always a way. Ben had taught him that. The problem was, it took someone as crazy and brilliant as Ben to see it. Besides, even if Riley came up with a plan, it wasn't likely to be something he could carry out by himself. He was a hacker, the guide, the coordinator. What good was he without someone on the inside?
There has to be a way!
Ben, obviously, could not help break himself out of prison. Patrick either. And if he knew where Abigail was, he'd be kidnapping her himself and dumping her on the feds' front door, not worrying about springing his friend from jail. That left him with nothing.
...No... that left him with one. One other that he'd stood beside and stared death, if not prison, in the eye. Who might be able to help him, or at least, probably wouldn't turn him over to the cops just for asking. But still. I'm really not that desperate.
Am I?
Yes. Yes he was.
