The tunnel wasn't nearly as creepy as Riley had predicted. Of course, that might have been because it hadn't been hidden for a couple of centuries. There were lanterns at regular intervals, keeping it lit, and plenty of people digging away. The tunnel sloped steeply downward until, about three quarters of the way through, it began to slope upward again at a sharp angle.
"We're nearly through," Shana explained when they'd reached the end. "One good day of digging and we'll be there." She had an odd look on her face.
"Why do I get the idea that we'll be the ones doing the digging?" Riley muttered to himself.
As it turned out, that was exactly what Shana had in mind. A little over an hour later they were out of the tunnel and settled in a pub with plenty of drinks. "We have to get there before anyone else does. Which means tonight."
"What exactly are you suggesting?" Ben asked, although it was pretty clear what she meant.
"We have to go back tonight." She ignored the look of protest on Riley's face. "We're so close; you can practically smell the air on the other side. We just have to do a bit of digging, and bam! We're there."
"Yes, but what about the people funding the dig?" Abigail asked. "Won't they have the final say of what happens to the treasure? And it's not as if we could smuggle it all out, and pretend we'd never been there."
Shana shook her head. "Things are different here. It doesn't matter who's funding the expedition. He who gets there first, wins. This is why I hate working here. I have been in that tunnel everyday since we started, and Alan-who is claustrophobic for chrissakes, only has to be there for about an hour tomorrow. And it's all his. It's unfair, and he wouldn't know what to do with it anyway."
Abigail looked at Ben. "Well, what do you think?"
Ben shrugged. "Why not?"
"I can think of a million reasons why not," Riley informed them. He looked up at Shana, who was smiling at him hopefully. He looked suddenly back down at his drink. "But I can think of a better one to just do it," he added in a mutter.
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Ciara walked into the sleazy apartment she shared with Michael.
"I saw your friends today." He called from the kitchen, enunciating the word carefully.
"Oh yeah? Where were they?"
He walked into the living room, holding onto an extremely large sandwich that threatened to fall apart at any second. "The cathedral; they were looking for the dig site though. Mr. I'm-so-much-better-than-you sent me away and drew them a map, so I can't tell you much. They don't seem too bad… They've obviously come in contact with Shana. So that was my day, how'd yours go?" As he turned to her a large dollop of mayonnaise fell out of his sandwich and onto his shirt.
"You know Michael, there is a reason we bought plates. This, for example, is a prime reason."
He shrugged and took the plate and napkin she handed him. "I take it yours was a fun day too, huh?"
"He's back. I don't know what I'm doing anymore… Why I said I'd work with him… Jesus, what was I thinking?"
Michael took another bite. "Well," he said; mouth still full. "It might have something to do with your history."
Ciara glared at him. "I'm telling you that this guy from my past is making my insides go all gooey and you're being extremely nonchalant."
He patted her knee, before standing. "History is history, my love. I know you love me. Besides, think of how many diseases he would have picked up in jail…"
Ciara stared at him for a moment, stunned, before breaking out in laughter. "What are you eating anyway?"
"Ham and Swiss on pumpernickel, want one?"
"I'm good, thanks. I'd rather have you."
"Why, Miss Ciara, are you coming on to me?"
"Yes. Is it working?"
"You could come in here and find out."
With a grin, Ciara did.
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Riley sat on the bed in his hotel room, his laptop propped up while he worked on a crossword puzzle. He knew he should be sleeping, especially since he'd be digging for the rest of the night, but he couldn't get his mind to slow down long enough.
He wasn't even thinking of anything in particular, which was the worst of all. At least then he might have figured out a solution. With a sigh, Riley turned back to his crossword, trying to work out the clue for 46 across: 119886 ÷ 78. It took him all of two seconds to figure out the answer, which was 1537. Vaguely, he wondered if it was normal to know that off the top of your head.
His inane thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. Heaving himself to his feet, Riley answered it. Shana was standing there, with drenched hair. Riley looked at her in surprise. "It's raining out," she explained.
He nodded. "Is it time to go already?"
She glanced at her watch. "Um, just about." She stopped for second, and seemed to be trying to decide if she wanted to continue. "Listen, before we go, I just wanted to… well, to thank you."
Mildly startled, Riley laughed. "For what?"
"Well, for believing me, and introducing me to Ben. And… agreeing to come tonight."
Unable to stop himself, Riley grinned with the pleasure. "Oh, sure… I mean, you know, it's no big deal."
Before he could say anything else, Shana leaned over and kissed him, quickly. "I'll meet you at the car," she called as she headed out the door.
Gathering his things together, Riley was horrified to find he was humming.
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Ciara was having a pleasant dream when the shrill ring of the telephone startled her awake. Disentangling herself from Michael, still breathing peacefully beside her, she picked it up on the fourth ring. "Hello?"
Ian's deep voice came down the line, hushed with secrecy. "Meet me at the west gate of the cathedral in fifteen minutes."
Before she'd even had a chance to question it, he'd hung up again. Ciara sighed, stumbling around the room for some clothes. She managed to find a pair of her own jeans, and one of Michael's shirts, which she pulled on over a tank top.
"Michael?" she called, nudging him with her foot while tying her hair back. "Michael, I have to go out."
Michael sighed softly, rolling over in his sleep. Ciara sighed too, and left the flat, thoroughly annoyed to discover that it was pouring rain outside. It was only about a two minute walk to the west gate, but then she was forced to stand outside waiting for Ian for another ten.
By the time he arrived -in a luxury car at that- she was extremely irritated. Ian got out of the backseat, muttering instructions to the driver. He came over to her, raising an eyebrow. "Nice shirt."
Ciara glared at him, in no mood for games. "What exactly are we doing here?"
Ian laughed. "You look like a drowned cat."
"I'm glad you find this so amusing." But she brushed her wet bangs out of her eyes.
Without another word, Ian opened the west gate. "Follow me."
Ciara stared at him. "How did you manage that? The gate's locked after nine thirty."
"I know people," Ian answered, rather cryptically. He led the way quietly through the gates, over to the cathedral and inside. Ciara was shocked by the absolute stillness of the building. She'd been there plenty of times before, but never at night, never when it was empty. That, combined with the echoing sound of the drumming rain, filled her with a sense of awe.
A sense of awe that was quickly shattered as Ian grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her through the main hall to the stairs leading to the crypts and chapels downstairs. Ciara got a hold of herself. "Why are we here?"
"To get the treasure, of course."
"This is your great plan? You don't think that if it were this easy, they wouldn't have done this ages ago, rather than bother with a tunnel outside of town?"
Ian sighed in exasperation. "This was hardly my plan. But we have to move now, or we'll have lost the treasure. I have information that one of the archeologists has decided to go after the treasure here, tonight. And you'll never guess who's helping her."
"Michael Keaton," Ciara offered sarcastically.
Ian gave her a dirty look. "Try Ben Gates, Abigail Chase, and that other one."
"Riley?"
"Sure." Ian was only half paying attention, intent on finding something.
"But that means Shana… oh shit," Ciara muttered to herself.
"Exactly," Ian agreed, picking up on the last of her sentence. "If it were any of those other retards, I wouldn't worry. They'd bring the tunnel down on themselves. But if Ben's helping, you can be sure they'll find it."
"Wait a minute." Ciara stopped suddenly. "How are we supposed to get to the treasure before them?"
"What's the one thing between us and the treasure?"
"The cathedral?" she guessed wildly.
"Exactly," Ian affirmed. "So all we have to do is get rid of it."
"What?" Ciara yelled, forgetting that they weren't supposed to be there. "What do you mean, 'get rid of it'? You can't just get rid of a great, dirty cathedral."
"You can with the right material… or should I say, explosives?"
Ciara's eyes widened, and she grabbed Ian's arm. "No! You can't just blow up the cathedral! It's centuries old! For the love of god, it's older than the Knights of the Round Table!"
Ian shook her off. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were more interested in an old building than you were in the treasure."
"Of course not, but there must be a better way to do this."
"There isn't. Either we get it now, or we don't get it at all. They're already at the tunnel, there's no other way to the treasure." He stopped talking suddenly. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
But he didn't have to answer. There was the loud creak of the doors opening, as one of the guards came to investigate the noise. Without a second thought, Ian shoved Ciara up against the wall, pinning her arms above her head, and ravishing her mouth with his own. Without meaning to, Ciara closed her eyes and kissed him back.
The bright light of a flashlight beam shone over them, turning the inside of her eyelids red. "Oi, you there! What d'you think you're doin?"
Ian turned, startled, and Ciara did her best to look guilty, not difficult when they'd just been discussing blowing up the cathedral. "Well you see, sir, this place is just so old… and we thought what would be better than to experience true, ancient love."
The guard looked at them skeptically, but apparently they were convincing enough, because his gaze softened somewhat. "Alright. Get out of here, the pair of ye."
Ian grabbed Ciara's hand and they left without argument. "That was unnaturally kind of you," she muttered when they were out of earshot. "Normally you'd just have shot him."
Ian shrugged. "It's too late now. By the time we got everything set up, they'd have broken through."
"Oh. In that case, I take back what I said."
Ian laughed, and stopped, pulling her toward him. She suddenly realized that he hadn't yet let go of her hand. "You know, the evening doesn't have to be a complete loss."
Ciara stared at him, almost saying yes as he leaned forward to kiss her again. Then she started suddenly, pulling from his grasp. "I have to go," she said, and took off down the street, through the rain.
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Riley's hand had blistered, and he felt as if he'd been digging for hours when his shovel finally hit stone. The loud clang rang out through the tunnel, and for an instant they all just stared at each other. Then Shana rushed forward, scrabbling at the last of the dirt with her bare hands. When she had finished, a large stone door stood before them, almost menacing in appearance.
Ben turned to Shana. "Ladies first."
She grinned, and pushed with all her weight on the door, but it wouldn't budge. Without her asking, Riley moved to help. Together they managed to shove the door open. Stale air burst out, leaving them all coughing for an instant.
When the air had cleared enough, they both looked in, but it was too dark to see past their noses. "Give me that lantern!" Shana yelled, too excited to be patient any longer. Abigail handed her the lantern, and Shana ran in, the others right behind.
When they had enough light to see, they looked around in complete shock. It was Riley who finally spoke.
"It's empty."