Chapter Seventeen
Disclaimer-I can't even make up a witty disclaimer. What makes you think I could own a brilliant Disney movie?
Crazy Little Emily- Yay! I love your questions-they're exactly what I wanted readers to think after they read the chapter! (Well, except for the 'And when are Ian and Dawes going to do something' but I got a huge kick out of that one) Sorry I took so long to update, but I think that this chapter answers all of your questions!
Lizzie Harrison- (gasp) you don't know what goldfish are? Y'know, those amazing cheese crackers in the shape of fish? Sorry, maybe goldfish are a Connecticut thing. Um, think of them like Ritz crackers or something. YAY! You love cliffies! Cliffie time! To answer your question, Edward Teach was Blackbeard's real name. A lot of people were confused about that so I tried to explain it in this chapter.
Whisperwings- Hehe, evil cliffies strike again! Sorry I took so long to update-I've been getting ready for my exchange student and I just posted another NT story last night.
Classicreviewer- I know! I'm so proud of myself for not making a plot twist and not blatantly revealing it before I was supposed to. When I first was mapping out the fic with my best friend I was like "I have no idea what the hell is going to happen but the professor is going to be the bad guy" Hehe, Robinson/Deachat is certainly going to notice that Riley is not what he asked Lander to get. (I'm really proud of myself for the whole Riley-masquerading-as-Ben thing 'cause I totally made it up off the top of my head at the last second because I needed a way for Riley and Claire to stick together. It worked out nicely though. Okay, enough bragging on my part. Enjoy!
Dralx- Hey! You're back! Yay! Goodness, moving certainly IS an excuse to not update (not to mention finals, which I totally neglected my story during) I'm pretty sure comparing my story to the DaVinci Code is the best compliment I could get! Yay! And I'm glad you appreciate the fast updating! You're an amazing reviewer, thank you for reviewing, and whatever us grateful authors are supposed to say.
Silveni- He, sorry about the confusing-ness of Robinson/Deachat/Teach. I promise it's all more understandable from here on. I'm glad you like Claire's thoughts, I'm trying to make sure they're realistic and not too idealistic or Mary-Sue-ish. So yay! Thanks for reviewing! Read. Be Happy. Review.
Elvenrarehunter- Hah, don't worry about the whole email-thingy. I love getting reviews late 'cause they motivate me when I'm a quarter of the way through a chapter and want to go watch Lost reruns. I'm SOO glad you liked the anagram thing-It took me many, many English classes(my teacher came to despise me) to find a believable anagram for Edward Teach. It's good to know that I'm not the only one who gets the random Ian-hugging moments. And go see The Mummy. Now. It's amazing. I won't update until you see it! (Waves fist threateningly) Kidding, I'm not that mean. Thank you for waiting patiently for my slow update!
A/N-A lot of people were confused about the whole Deachat/Robinsin/Teach name thing. Sorry I made that chapter as little unclear. Professor Robinson is NOT Edward Teach (Edward Teach was Blackbeard's real name) reincarnated with the alter thingie, he just used his name as a pseudonym jumbling the letters around (A.K.A. Drew Deachat) because he's a freak. I think that's all. Enjoy and Review!
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Chapter Seventeen
A tense silence stretched over the deserted parking lot as Riley, Claire and Lander all stared at the figure cast in the eerie streetlight.
Deachat was of moderate height and had an unremarkable face, his dark hair and facial features bland and easily forgotten. His clothes were also nondescript, a buttoned shirt and slacks. After all the mental pictures Riley had accumulated in his mind of the murdering psycho, he was vaguely disappointed at his lack of menace.
Deachat took a wary step towards Claire, looking distressed. "Claire, I need to explain-"
"No." Riley insisted. "You're not Robinson. Robinson is dead, I saw those pictures-"
"No! That wasn't me!" Deachat exclaimed, turning toward Claire. "I'm alive, I followed you here, I needed to explain to you!"
Claire took a step forward, her arms crossed defensively. "Explain what to me, Professor?" she asked quietly. Deachat, now apparently Robinson, sighed and rubbed his forehead.
"It's a long story. Come with me to the headquarters, I can tell you the whole story there."
"Absolutely not." Riley snapped. "Claire, this guy is not your teacher; he tried to kill us all!"
"Riley, I think I can recognize my own professor!"
As soon as the retort left her mouth Claire wished she could take it back, widening her eyes at her own stupidity. Robinson narrowed his suspiciously. "Claire, what did you just call him?"
He squinted at Riley in the darkness, and then his eyes widened with realization. "Lander!" he roared. "Did I not ask you to bring Claire and GATES to me?"
"Yessir." Lander replied, confused. "That is Mr. Gates."
"No it's not, you blatant idiot! That's Riley Poole!"
"Well, he told me he was Mr. Gates!" Lander protested
Claire shot Riley an apologetic look. "Look, does it really matter at the moment?" she pleaded. "You're supposed to be dead, let's focus on that part!"
Robinson shot Riley and Lander one last glare and then turned to Claire. "You need to understand. Come to the Headquarters with me and I'll explain everything."
Riley shook his head discreetly at Claire, but Robinson noticed it and scowled. Obviously something was going to have to be done about the useless sidekick. At least Gates could have helped them.
"No." Claire refused, "You can explain everything now. At the moment, I'm not going anywhere with you."
Robinson sighed in exasperation and mentioned for Lander to stand behind Riley and Claire, newly stocked gun at ready if either tried to run away.
Robinson shifted on his feet at the edge of the parking lot and stroked his chin academically.
"Where do I begin…" he mused, as if recalling a simple bedtime story. "Well, best start at the very beginning."
Riley shot Claire a wary look. This guy was obviously a few logs short of a roaring fire.
"I was born as Eric Robinson in the small town of Bath, North Carolina. I became fascinated with Blackbeard as a child because the town of Bath was the very town in which he had settled for a short time before he was pardoned."
Claire nodded. She had visited the town herself once.
"You know of Blackbeard's marriage, Claire?" Robinson questioned. "His one legal marriage to Mary Ormond, performed by the governor himself? Yes, of course you do. No one ever knows what happened to her and her child. No one but me."
Claire stared at him, perplexed. "How could you find out-"
"I was eight when I first discovered the book in my attic." Robinson narrated as if Claire had never commented. "It was a family tree. I had never known, you see, that my mother's maiden name was Danielle Ormond. I traced back far enough-about six generations, give or take, and there it was. Mary Ormond was my great-great-great-great grandmother. I am the sole heir of Edward Teach, the great pirate Blackbeard."
An astonished Claire tried to comprehend this information.
"Wait" Riley interjected. "You think that just because Blackbeard was your great-great-great grandfather or whatever, than you can kill people to get his treasure? I don't know about the nineteenth century, but here in good old twenty-first century we call that murder."
Robinson shot Riley a deadly glare. "This treasure belongs to me. It's rightfully mine. I've waited years to claim it, young man-you have no idea how hard I have worked to be at this moment. Decades of planning have led me to this point. Planning that included your girlfriend over here, so I would stop blathering about morality and shut your fucking mouth."
Claire's mouth dropped open. This was not the man who had taught her for seven years. She could not remember a time where Eric Robinson's voice was raised in anger, and he never swore.
Robinson turned from Riley back to Claire, the anger fading from his face. "Can you imagine, Claire?" he asked excitedly. "Finding out that you are the heir of Blackbeard? I've wanted to tell you for years-I really did. But then……." He wandered off, staring out at some far point behind her.
"Professor?" Claire prompted guardedly.
"Yes? Sorry, I was getting ahead of myself. After finding out about my lineage, I worked to become one of the most renowned Blackbeard scholars known. I wrote critically acclaimed books, and I was accepted as a history professor at Harvard University. But even after all those years of study, I had never come across a clue leading me to his treasure. My treasure. I began to doubt myself, believe that maybe I wasn't destined to find the treasure"
He beamed at Claire, who looked thoroughly taken aback. "But then you came along, Claire. You came along and found that wonderful desk with those letters, and I knew it was a sign that I was destined to find the treasure. You would help me and together we would triumph over the entire world. I could tell that you wanted the treasure as much as I did my dear; we're really so much alike."
His delighted expression clouded. "But then that damned Gatesappeared and you told me you were going to give him the Teach letters in return for your brother's freedom. My letters, Claire, for your insignificant brother. I couldn't believe it. We were so close, and I was so sure that you were a sign that I should find the treasure. Then I realized that I was being tested. I would have to overcome this barrier so we could find the treasure together."
Robinson eye's shone with delirious righteousness.
"So I started to send myself e-mails under the name Drew Deachat, an anagram of Edward Teach, my ancestor. Really Claire, I'm surprised you never figured it out. I hired a man to steal the documents, since I knew they would be in one of your houses. I am sosorry for what Derrickson did to your apartment, by the way. I'll buy you a better one when we get back to Washington. But Derrickson failed and I had to think of another way to get my hands on those documents. I knew I was going to have to follow you to Nassau, but if I did, even using my fake name, the FBI and your brother would notice my absence and realize that I was behind the thefts. So, I threw the attention off myself by creating my own alibi."
"By killing yourself?" Claire asked incredulously.
"Precisely. By staging my own murder, poised to look like I had been a victim of Drew Deachat when in reality Drew Deachat was me. Were you awfully guilty when I was murdered, Claire? I knew you would blame yourself completely for my death-just think of it as a slap on the wrist for selling out to Gates."
Claire as well as Riley and Lander now looked completely freaked out. "But if you're alive, who did the FBI find in your house?"
"Oh, that was Herman, my mailman. He was the perfect stand-in, really. No family, no one who would miss him. And he did always deliver my mail late."
Robinson shook his head sadly.
"As much as I'd like to say his death was quick, I was forced to burn him to death slowly. I had to make the FBI think it was me, you see. After he was completely unidentifiable, I pulled out one of my own teeth and dropped in inside of his mouth so when the FBI ran it for DNA they would believe it was my dead body. Then I bought a plane ticket under Drew Deachat and flew to Nassau. The rest I'm sure you know."
As he finished his monologue, Robinson let out a large breath, as if getting a huge load off of his shoulders. He stared at Claire expectantly, waiting for her reaction.
Claire gaped at him. "Who the hell are you?"
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Over the many years she had worked at the Prospect Ridge Hospital, the old nurse had never seen patients actually leave the hospital unannounced. The man and woman who had been carried in earlier hadn't had severe wounds, but they definitely shouldn't have just up and left the hospital without so much as a warning.
But when she had come in to check on the couple, they were gone, their beds made and an unsigned note thanking her for her help accompanied with some cash. The nurse couldn't help but remember the suspicious conversation she had had with the man earlier before his wife woke up. Though he had tried to sound convincing, he was a terrible liar and she wondered exactly what had transpired that had gotten the two of them shot with tranquilizer darts.
After cleaning the room and replacing the sheets on their beds, the nurse was about to leave when she spotted a crumpled piece of notepaper in the trash basket that wasn't there before. While it was highly frowned upon to invade the privacy of the hospital's patients, the nurse's curiosity prevailed and she opened it, hoping to at least find the name of the couple.
A short note was scrawled in black pen.
Dear Ben,
Claire and I had to get you somewhere safe until you woke up so we could get away from Lander and Deachat. Don't worry, we'll be fine.
I'm sorry.
-Riley
She stared at the note, baffled. The man, Ben apparently, had mentioned others, a young man and woman, which she assumed were the Claire and Riley who wrote the note. But who in the world were Lander and Deachat?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
In the end, they had had no choice but to go with them. Riley had a feeling that Robinson would have preferred to burn him alive as well instead of dragging him along to the headquarters, but didn't wish to alienate his precious Claire.
Of course, Claire was already thoroughly alienated. She couldn't possibly more horrified at her former professor if he had owned up to murdering her own brother. But the two of them couldn't quarrel with Lander's gun, so they had entered Robinson's car and sped off towards the Headquarters
The building was utterly unchanged, the one variable that had remained unvaried in the last few hours. The side door was still swinging open in the wind from when he and Claire had left, dragging Abigail and Ben's bodies.
They now entered again with two different companions, creeping down the same hallway into the bullet-riddled study. Robinson drew a pained gasp at the damage done to his ancestor's former residence and glared at Lander.
"Help me with trap door, you miscreant." he ordered. "At least you can serve some purpose."
As Lander and Robinson pried open the floor, Riley squeezed Claire's hand. She had been disturbingly silent since Robinson's story, and spent the short car ride staring out the window blankly.
"Hey" he whispered. "We're gonna get out of this, okay? Don't be such a Johnny Raincloud."
Claire didn't answer, but smiled slightly as she stared at the ground.
"Got it!" Robinson crowed victoriously as the hatch opened to the winding stairs. He jumped down onto the first stair and mentioned for Claire to follow him, his eyes shining with boyish delight.
"You go last, Lander" he instructed before disappearing down the staircase. Claire hopped in behind him and tentatively began her ascent down.
Eyeing the accumulated spider webs with distaste, Riley gingerly lowered himself into the hatch. The rusty stairs were steep and cramped, and though Robinson and Lander carried flashlights, Riley could barely see in front of him.
He realized the stars had stopped when he bumped into Claire's back, stumbling on the suddenly flat floor.
Riley could tell they were in a large room by the way the air seemed to lighten in comparison to the congested stair case. Then Lander came to stand next to him and the two flashlights provided just enough light to make the room visible. Soft utterances filled the room.
"Oh my God,"
"Holy Shit"
"……..Wow."
Riley raised his eyebrows "Um….this definitely isn't the treasure room."
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Wohoo! My first summer vacation chapter! My Spanish exchange student is coming tomorrow (yay!) which means I might not be able to post for a few days. (But the reviews will speed me up!) (wink wink)
While you're waiting, go read and review the first chapter of my new National Treasure Story, Gold Digger. Yes, more blatant self promotion, but it's going to have more Ian in it than this one! (With much less plot devices/depth/cliffies, mind, but more Ian!)