Chapter Five

Disclaimer-I'm pretty sure that everyone knows by now that I don't own National Treasure. But I do own Claire. And Patrick (yay!)

A/N- Agent Dawes in this chapter isn't actually a character I created-she was the one female FBI agent in National Treasure-the one who was like "Sir, it's the Hudson. Nothing is visible." Anyway, I looked on yahoo and her name was Agent Dawes. She's actually going to be in the story as I go back and forth from the Gates, Riley and Claire out hunting for treasure to Agent Dawes and Ian back on the ranch. Enjoy!

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Chapter Five

Ben simply couldn't sleep. He hadn't been this excited since he had found the identity of the Charlotte more than six years ago. Only the thought of a treasure hunt could get him this restless, and he found himself rolling out of bed, being careful not to wake his wife, and heading downstairs.

Cradling a cup of steamy hot chocolate, Ben sat at his kitchen table and reviewed the books he had on Edward Teach. It was quite an expansive pile, having added a few on the subject to his already massive historical library when he had first met Claire. Flipping to a worn and dog-eared page, he started to peruse the article on the Queen Anne's Revenge, Blackbeard's first ship as a captain. Halfway through the page, his attention was diverted by a muffled noise coming from the living room.

Frowning, Ben stood up. Abigail had been asleep when he had left her, and Riley, who was staying over at their house, didn't wake up earlier than seven unless there was a nuclear war going on. Which only left…………

Patrick he groaned mentally. His son had the tendency to wake up at ungodly hours of the morning to watch TV and play.Where on earth did he get that trait from? he wondered.

Trudging to the living room, he opened the door.

"Pat, it's one in the morning- go back to-"

He froze mid sentence as his eyes focused and he realized that it wasn't his son standing in the middle of the living room, but a large black-clad man with a gun in his hand frozen on his rug.

"What the hell-" Ben had time to yell until the man turned and ran in the other direction towards the front door. Sprinting after him, Ban managed to grab his jacket, spinning him around. The man shot at him but missed, instead hitting the doorframe, and Ben managed to wrestle the gun out of his hand and throw him to the floor. The burglar tried to get up but Ben pointed the gun at his head.

"Who are you." he stated, breathing heavily, "And what are you doing in my house?"

"My name is George Derrickson." The burglar answered, holding up his hands in defeat. "I was hired to break in here and steal some old papers. I wasn't trying to hurt anyone."

"Who hired you?" Ben asked

"Why should I tell you?" Derrickson sneered. "He's paid me extra to keep his identity hidden."

"You should tell me because I have a gun pointed at you head." Ben snapped.

Abby rushed in, holding a frightened looking Patrick. "Ben, what's going on? Who is that?"

"Abby, go call the police. Tell them that there's been a break-in."

"Look, no one told me there was a kid." Derrickson pleaded, once Abigail had returned. "I was only here to steal some documents."

Ben exchanged a look with Abby. "What kind of documents?" he asked.

"Some old letters. He said that they'd probably be well-protected, and I should use that-" he gestured towards the gun with his head "- to break into any safes that I found."

Ben heard the sound of sirens in the distance. "Who is he? The guy that hired you?"

There was a long pause. "I don't actually know his name." Derrickson admitted. "But he did give me two other addresses that I was supposed to look for the papers in."

"Let me see." Ben demanded. Derrickson reluctantly pulled a piece of paper out from his pocket and handed it to Ben. "I already went through the first one-some tiny apartment a few hours from here. I went through it pretty thoroughly, but they weren't there. This house was the second address."

Looking at the crumpled piece of paper, Ben recognized Claire's address as the first on the list, his the second. The third was Riley's new apartment. Any doubt that the man who hired Derrickson was looking for the Teach letters vanished immediately.

There was a loud knock on the door, accompanied by a muffled "Washington Police." and he gestured for Abby to go open it. AS policemen rushed inside to handcuff Derrickson, Ben dropped the gun and went in search of his cell phone. He had a call to make.

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Claire was sitting on a chair in her kitchen/living room, giving yet another account of what happened when her phone starting to ring. Ignoring the look the detective gave her, she flipped it open.

"Hello?" she asked tiredly.

"Claire? It's Ben. All you all right?"

"I'm fine. My apartment was completely trashed, but I was still driving home when it was broken into." she reassured him. Claire paused. "Wait," she said, confused. "How did you know that my apartment was broken into?"

"Because mine was too. We caught the guy and he admitted that someone hired him to break into our houses in order to find the Teach documents."

Claire froze, evading the look of concern the detective shot her. She had suspected that the break in had something to do with the Blackbeard letters, but this confirmed it. "Ben, I'm sorry. I should have called you immediately after I found out, I just didn't think that-"

"It's ok." Ben interrupted. "Now we know that someone is after us. The FBI has been informed, and they're sending an agent over this afternoon. You should come over so we can decide what to tell them."

She nodded, and then remembered that Ben couldn't see her over the phone. "Right. I'll be over as soon as possible-I've just got to give my statement one more time and call Ian to tell him where I'm going. He's raising hell over at the police station." she said, smiling despite the situation she was sitting in the middle of. "I'll be there in an hour."

"Alright. Be careful."

Hanging up, Ben ran a hand through his hair tiredly. This complicated their travel plans a bit. They would have to use fake names and be as discreet as possible if someone knew about their plans. Someone, it appeared, who was willing to do almost anything to get those letters.

Abby appeared at his side, her hand on his shoulder, "Is Claire alright?"

"Yeah," he responded wearily. " She wasn't there when Derrickson broke in, and she's coming over as soon as she can."

Riley appeared at the foot of the stairs in his bathrobe, looking bewildered. "Um, Ben?" he questioned, "Why are there FBI agents swarming around?"

Patrick, having gotten over his scare, laughed. "Uncle Riley, you miss everything. A bad guy with a gun came into the house but Daddy beat him up. Now the FBI is here."

Riley turned to Ben, still a bit disoriented. "Please tell me that your son is joking."

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Walking into the Gates house, Claire was startled by the activity. There was a forensics team, policemen, and FBI agents everywhere. Amid the chaos a young female agent came and shook her hand.

"Hi Miss Howe," she said smiling friendlily. "I'm Agent Dawes, I'm the lead agent on The Gates' and your case."

Claire nodded "I'm Claire Howe." She blushed. "Right. You already know that."

My superior social skills triumph once again, she thought sarcastically. "Um, may I talk to Mr. and Mrs. Gates? Please?"

"Right this way."

Agent Dawes led her into the living room, where the Gates family was sitting on the couch, talking to the FBI. Claire flinched as she saw the bullet hole in the doorway.

"Hey." she greeted them, plopping down onto an armchair next to them. "So, I'm guessing your morning was as good as mine."

"It was cool!" Patrick exclaimed, who by now was ecstatic about having real FBI agents in his house.

Claire grinned back at him "I bet it was." Looking around she realized that her least favorite new treasure hunting buddy was absent. "Where's Riley?"

Patrick rolled his eyes. "He's sleeping."

"He told us he was going to go get changed." Ben corrected. Grinning, he added, "That was an hour ago."

Claire laughed. "I'll go get him-all of us should be here to correlate our facts. You guys finish up with the FBI"

Standing, she headed out of the living room and up the gigantic winding staircase. It was peacefully quiet up on the second floor compared to the bedlam below, and she stopped to admire the beautiful paintings on the walls.

As she came to a fork in the hallway, she stopped and remembered that she had absolutely no idea where Riley's room was.

"Mr. Poole?" she called softly. "Hello?"

Receiving no answer, she started down the first hallway, opening all the doors and peeking inside. Closet, empty room, another closet….

Aha! She thought triumphantly at the fourth door. From what she could make out through the crack in the door, there was a bureau and a shadowy bed at the other side of the room. Plus, she heard someone snoring quite loudly.

"Mr. Poole?" she called loudly.

No response. Just more snoring. Sighing, she opened the door fully and stepped into the room, taking a few steps toward the bed.

"Mr. Poole!" she practically yelled. The snoring ceased and Riley shot up from his bed, "What?" he yelled drowsily "What's going on?"

Claire blushed and stared at the floor. Obviously fallen asleep in the middle of changing, Riley had no shirt on, wearing only his jeans. As his eyes focused, he started in surprise. "What are you doing in here?"

"Ben and Abby thought you should come down so we can correlate our statements." she rushed, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

Realizing his state of partial undress, Riley scrambled over and grabbed a shirt. Hastily throwing it on, he walked toward the door. "Let's go."

By the time Claire got to the door, he was already walking halfway down the hall. She followed him, trying not to smile. As humiliating as that experience just was, Riley was kind of cute embarrassed.

Plus, the evil little voice in her head whispered slyly, he doesn't look too bad without his shirt on.

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