Author's Note:

Just so you know Ben Gates will be called Ben but his father will be referred to as Mr. Gates. Just so that you aren't confused. I'm hoping to update more reasonably soon, though I won't promise because obviously I've said that a million times. Thank you to everyone who has read and especially to those who have reviewed.

Chapter #13:

Ben's men had given us a change of dry clothes, for which I was very grateful, and we were in a car on our way to meet with Ian. Shaw, the bald goon, had told us that Abigail was calling all of the shots. He had also grumbled that she refused to shut up, causing Ben and I to chuckle.

Shaw's phone rang and he answered it. After a second he handed it to Ben.

"It's for you," he said. Ben took the phone. He held it so that I could hear what was said as well.

"Hello," Ben said.

"Hi sweetie," Abigail said on the other end, "how's your day going?"

"Uh interesting dear," he answered. "So what, you're working with Ian now?"

"It turns out that helping someone escape from F. B. I. custody is a criminal act," Abigail explained to us, "and he's the only criminal we knew. So we called him and made a deal."

"Well thanks for the jail break," I said.

"You're all right?" Ben asked her. "You're safe?"

"Yeah," Abigail assured him, "we both are."

"Riley and Abigail aren't the ones who were captured by the F. B. I. and then forced to jump into the Hudson River," I pointed out.

"Riley's right here," Abigail told us, "doing something clever with a computer."

"Hey," Riley said as his voice came over the phone, "I'm tracking you through the GPS in Shaw's phone. They take a turn anywhere we don't want and we'll know it so don't worry."

"If Ian tries to double cross us," Abigail continued, " we can call the F. B. I. and tell them right where you are and where to find Ian."

"And where is that?" Ben asked.

"Right across that street from where we're hiding," she answered sounding smug, "at the intersection of Wall Street and Broadway."

"Well," Ben grinned, "you figured out the clue."

"The clue?" I asked.

"It's simple," Abigail bragged, "Heere at the wall, Wall Street and Broadway."

"I'm still not following," I confessed. "Just because you say something in a definitive tone doesn't make it any clearer."

"I'll explain later," Ben promised.

"Ben," Abigail sounded uneasy, "there is a catch. We made Ian believe he could have the treasure. It was the only way we could get this far."

"He's here," I could hear Riley saying in the background.

The car pulled over and Ben, the goons, and I all got out of the car.

A man came over and greeted Ben. It took me a minute but then I recognized him as Ian from when he and his goons had been chasing us around Philadelphia.

"And you are?" Ian asked as he noticed me.

"I'm Maggie," I told him.

"F. B. I.?" He looked wary so I answered quickly that I no longer was in their employment. "Then we don't have any problems," he said looking relieved.

"As long as you don't try to kill us again," I corrected him. "That sort of thing would be a big problem." He laughed and I felt even more uneasy. Then he turned to Ben and they got down to business.

"The Declaration of Independence and the meerschaum pipe," Ian said placing them both on the top of the parked car, "all yours."

"That's it?" Ben asked.

"That's it," Ian nodded.

"Take them and run," I suggested. Ian moved his coat slightly to reveal a concealed gun. I put my hands in the air in a motion of surrender. "Just joking," I chuckled weakly. Ian looked back at Ben, seemingly deciding that I wasn't worth the effort.

"I knew you'd keep your promise," he said, "now where is it? Where's my treasure?"

"It's at the nearest police station," I told him, "better hurry."

"It's right here," Ben answered ignoring me. "The map said 'Heere at the wall' spelled with two E's. Wall Street follows the path of an actual wall that the original Dutch settlers built as a defense to keep the British out."

"Didn't really work the way they hoped it would," I pointed out.

"The main gate," Ben continued, "was located at a street called De Heere, also two E's. Later De Heere Street was renamed Broadway after the British got in."

"Part of the if you conquer it you get to rename it policy that most cities have," I added.

"So," Ben concluded, "Heere at the wall: Broadway, Wall Street." Ben pointed to the corresponding street signs. "Cheerio." Ben picked up the pipe and the declaration and made to walk away.

"Happy digging!" I told Ian.

"Just a moment Ben," Ian called.

"Ian," Ben sighed, "if you break our deal the F. B. I. will be only a few minutes behind you. You might get away, you might not."

"Is that all the map said?" Ian asked, taking a step closer to us.

"Every word," Ben answered. But he had taken to long to answer, it was clear even to me that he was being less then truthful.

"Oh Ben," Ian chuckled. "You know the key to running a convincing bluff?"

"Sunglasses," I guessed.

"Every once in a while," Ian told us, "you've got to be holding all the cards."

"What?" I asked. "You have to be the dealer or you have to steal the whole deck?"

Ian nodded at a goon who was standing next to a parked car. Seeing the signal the goon opened one of the back doors. Sitting in the backseat, wrists bound with duct tape, was Ben's dad.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Ian asked.

"Trinity Church," Ben said tearing his eyes away from the car that his father was in, "we have to go inside Trinity Church."

"Are we going to pray that this whole situation resolves itself peacefully?" I asked curious.

"It's a clue," Ben explained.

"Good," Ben said, "excellent." It was not excellent from where I was standing but I decided not to mention this aloud. "Well why don't you ask Dr. Chase and Riley to join us? I'm sure they're around here somewhere."

When we went into the church the goons brought Mr. Gates Senior in as well.

"Are you all right?" Ben asked his dad.

"What do you think?" he asked sounding considerably annoyed. "I'm a hostage."

"Sit down," one of the goons said and Ben's dad and I sat down in a pew while Ben and Ian went towards the alter to talk.

"Who's better at tying people up with duct tape," I asked, "Ian or me?" Mr. Gates Senior glared at me in response so I decided not to push it.

"Let him go Ian," Ben pleaded.

"When we find the treasure," Ian insisted.

"No," Ben said angrily, "now. Or you can figure out the clues for yourself. Good luck."

"They're very difficult clues," I added. "Lots of history things that normal people never bother to learn."

"Ben," Ian said, "I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation." The back door opened and two more goons led Riley and Abigail into the church. They sat down a couple of pews behind Mr. Gates and me. I waved to them, but they didn't wave back. Obviously getting captured had put them in a bad mood. I, on the other hand, was sort of getting used to it. "Let's have a look at that map."

Ben and Ian sat down and proceeded to roll out the Declaration. Then Ben put on the glasses and began to read the map, adjusting the different lenses on the glasses as he went.

"It's uh," he finally said, "it's really quite something. It really is remarkable. Take a look." Ian took the glasses and also read the map.

"Parkington Lane," he said.

"Beneath Parkington Lane," Ben clarified.

"But why would the map lead us here, then take us somewhere else?" Ian asked. "What's the purpose?"

"The Founding Fathers had a sick sense of humor," I suggested.

"Just another clue," Mr. Gates spoke up.

"Dad," Ben said warningly.

"I think you're right," I whispered to Mr. Gates.

"Parkington Lane has to be around here somewhere," Ben mused.

"A street inside a church?" Ian asked.

"Not inside," Ben corrected, "beneath. Beneath the church."

"Somehow I don't see this leading anywhere pleasant," I commented.