AN: Very short chapter!! I'm sorry, everyone, but some chapters have to be :(
Disclaimer: Nope, you're not getting one. I'm sick of these.
Ben had finally collapsed from exhaustion while trying to formulate a plan to rescue Riley and Abigail. He was slumped forward in a chair, with his head resting on the desk in front of him. He was having a really strange dream. Not as strange as some he had had in the past, but certainly not a normal one.
Ben stood in the dark room, directly across from Ian. The room was huge and Ian seemed so far away. Abigail stood in the middle, handcuffed to a bomb. The timer was ticking down from twelve hours. Ian laughed triumphantly.
"You lose, Gates!" he said. The timer's numbers all jumped to zero.
"Abigail!" shouted Ben. There was a flash of fire and the sound of a muffled explosion. When Ben's vision returned to normal, Abigail was gone and Ian stood in her place with Riley next to him. The British man brandished a wooden club. Ian started hitting Riley. As the noise of flesh against wood continued he could hear Riley's voice, crying out, desperate.
"Ben! Ben!" Ben tried to run forward to help his friend, but his body wouldn't obey. Ian laughed some more. Riley screamed. Ben felt only hopelessness. There was no help for either of them now.
Ben slowly opened his eyes, surprised that he wasn't in his bed. As he did he thought heard Riley cry out again, but figured it must be lasting effects from the nightmare. Ben stood up. He needed a walk around his yard to clear his head. He glanced at the clock. 2:05 am. He sighed. It was now or never for a plan. But maybe the walk would help. Ben pushed open his front door and his eyes widened to take in the smoldering remains of Riley's Ferrari. He glanced quickly around for any signs of blood or a struggle, a sickening feeling growing in his stomach. All Ben found was a black bag in the grass next to the steps. Riley's laptop case. His fried had been here, without a doubt. And maybe, just maybe, he had left a clue. Ben picked up the case and carried it inside, all tiredness gone. He slipped the computer out of the case and opened it up. He selected the user Ben and typed in his password, figuring that's where Riley would've stored anything, just so Ian couldn't get to it. A Word document popped up onto the page. Ben scanned it, figuring it was there for a reason.
Ben,
If you're reading this then I have been recaptured. Which means I probably need your help. Congratulations on finding the laptop by the way. Now, I figured out the next clue, and what you need to do next. Just follow the instructions following the letter. Good luck!
-Riley
P.S. Edison found a way to make a light bulb; you found a way to steal the declaration. Now it's my turn!
Ben started to feel sick again. Riley had left him a message, but he might pay for it with his life. For the first time, Ben fully appreciated the complete dedication and bravery his friend had. Ben scanned the directions and opened the appropriate files. They were all building plans. Building plans for the House of Burgesses. Ben smiled. He traced the lines Riley had added in. There was a basement. With a trapdoor that had never been opened. They had never figured out how. It was sealed by an iron padlock. Ben seized the key from the metal tube. He considered calling the president to let him know the situation. It was that serious now. Then he remembered it was nearly three in the morning. There was really nothing to do but sleep. So sleep he would.
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Somewhere else, Riley was shoved, half conscious, into the interrogation room he'd been in previously by a very tired, annoyed looking Ian. The eyes of both men were bloodshot with exhaustion. They stared at each other. Ian trying to stare the younger man down, while Riley was just trying to stand his ground, maybe read Ian's expression. But nothing was revealed. Ian shook his head in disgust. "I'll deal with you tomorrow," he muttered. And he slammed the door behind him.
Riley sat down on the hard concrete floor. "Why does it always happen to me?" he moaned. But at least some good things had come of all this. He had proved that Ian wasn't perfect. And he had gotten his message to Ben.
AN: Ohhh... Very suspenseful Ian. Whatever shall we do?
