Chapter Ten

"Don't look so surprised, Mr. Howe," the President whispered.

"I'm not. Quite frankly, I was actually expecting this from a desperate politician such as yourself," Ian replied. "However, what do you think is going to happen to you once I tell everyone back in the United States that you held me at gunpoint thinking I could provide some useful bit of information I didn't have?"

"It doesn't matter. This is my second term, and it's almost over."

"And yet, with all your responsibilities as the President of the United States, you've managed to find time to drop by an address in London you found on your own, private searchings into the meaning of the clues? You might not have a political career again. Better teach yourself how to write decently."

"Excuse me?"

"After all, isn't that what you'll be confined to, Mr. President, once you find that you no longer have political prospects? You can enter a regular workforce, if you felt you were up to it, or you could write a book, as most politicians do when they have no careers left to their names. Or you can star in your own reality television show, become so famous in that role that you discover the world of hard, illegal drugs and eventually die of an overdose. Your options are beginning to look more and more dismal the more we discuss this."

The President pressed Ian further back against the wall, and he bit back the cry of pain that wanted to escape him. "Now, look, if you play nice, no one has to know about this, okay? What happens in London stays in London."

"That's Las Vegas."

"It can apply here as well. Now, wanna know how to play nice? You and your little Grand Master buddy over there," he gestured to the heap in the corner that Ian had identified as his friend Gregory O'Malley, "tell me where this web of clues ends and we can get to the treasure, okay?"

"You remind me of myself, before life taught me a harsh lesson and I was forced to rethink what the word 'treasure' actually meant to me. Oh, don't get me wrong. I just don't want you making the same mistake I did."

"You think any good's gonna come out of preachin' to me?"

"It's not preaching, it's offering a piece of what's actually really good advice. I'll understand if you don't want to take it, but I might have done you a disservice had I not offered it to you."

The President laughed, a dry, sarcastic laugh which seemed to, in a strange way, cause Ian to relax. "Don't go anywhere," he snapped, pressing the barrel of the gun a little deeper into Ian's forehead. "It's not like I'll let you, anyway."

Ian smirked. "I don't have any plans to," he said softly, "at least, not yet." The President's eyes widened, and, most importantly to Ian, his hold and pressure on the gun relaxed, giving him the break he needed. He snatched the gun out of the other man's hand and struck the side of his head with the butt of the pistol. The President went down almost instantly, slumping against the wall. As Ian studied the weapon in the silence of the hall, he glanced down at the President's unconscious form and whispered, "Now I do have plans to leave, and there's nothing you can do about it."

He walked over to where O'Malley lay, bound and gagged, staring at the scene which had just unfolded with a look of awe in his eyes. Ian knelt beside him and proceeded to untie him. Once his mouth was free, O'Malley gasped and asked, "Why didn't you tell him anything?"

"Well, it's really quite simple," Ian replied as he helped O'Malley to his feet. "We can't let him know the secret, because he'd misuse it." He glanced over at the President. "He should be like that for only a few hours. We'd better get moving, find somewhere safe." He picked up the gun and studied it a moment before adding, "Preferably without anyone seeing us, or this."

"You should hope whoever you called is on her way right as we speak, or you might find your sorry arse in jail, again," O'Malley said, glancing at the gun as he spoke.

"I called my sister, and yes, she's on her way. Now, do you know where we can go before we're seen?"

"There's still one place which is still safe to us. Here, I'll show you the way."

Ian followed O'Malley out of the hall and onto the street, concealing the weapon as well as possible.

NTNT

Tanya was in the process of lapsing out of sleep when she saw it. Her brother and their old family friend Gregory O'Malley were strolling down a street, both seeming more than a little nervous. The vision faded when she began to gain her bearings. She was in a plane, still over the Atlantic Ocean, with Riley sitting next to her. From her position, she couldn't see much out of the window, so she asked him where they were.

"Uh, besides still over the ocean, we're getting close to England," Riley said slowly, scanning the outside world through the window as he spoke. "At least, that's my best guess."

"Alright, good. Only a little while longer."

"You see anything?"

"Ian and Mr. O'Malley. It seems they've both escaped danger, for now."

"Uh, that's good, I think."

"Riley, I'm not sure this is the day for guessing, 'uh', or thinking, and certainly not all three."

"Well, all that's the best I have right now."

"That would be the only exception, then, because we have no choice but to put our heads together and get to a point where we can find a solution to this problem we're in."

"Sounds good to me."

Tanya nodded curtly and settled back in her seat. Then, she allowed herself to be truly relieved that her brother was safe, if only for the moment.

NTNT

After about forty-five more uneventful minutes, the plane landed, and Tanya and Riley, along with the rest of the passengers, prepared to deplane. Several minutes later, they walked out of the airport, and Riley followed Tanya down the street. She fished out her phone and dialled a number.

"Oh, Tanya," Ian said when he answered the phone. "I was beginning to worry."

"Ian, where are you?" she asked. She listened attentively as he gave her an address, and she added, "We're on our way. Hold on."

"I will."

She snapped her phone shut and glanced at the street signs before looking back at Riley. "I was right," she said. "Ian's safe, at least, for now."

"So, we're gonna find him, right?" Riley asked.

"Of course. He gave me an address."

"So, he's not at Freemasons' Hall?"

"Be careful what you say around here. People could hear you and mistake what you're saying for something completely different. Oh, and yes, to answer your question. He's fled with Mr. O'Malley, and they're in a safe place."

Riley nodded, pursing his lips together, and he walked alongside Tanya as they navigated the streets of London in search of the address in Tanya's head. After a moment, he asked, "Are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Of course. Mr. O'Malley's a family friend of ours, and I know my way around London enough to get where we need to go."

"Okay."

Eventually, Tanya and Riley walked up to a nice brick home with an oak door and a brass knocker. She knocked on the door, and after a few moments, Gregory O'Malley, looking a little worse for the wear than when she'd last seen him, answered the door. "Oh, hello, Tanya," he said. "You've brought a friend, I see."

"He's my boyfriend, actually," Tanya replied. "I wanted him to come with me because, well, I really don't know."

"Oh, no matter the reason, please, do come in." He stepped aside, and Tanya and Riley stepped inside.

"Are you sure?" Riley whispered in Tanya's ear, and she nodded.

"Ian's in the second story study," O'Malley said. "Refreshments after your long journey?"

Tanya turned to Riley and asked, "Tea and scones?"

"Uh, sure," Riley answered, a little uncertainly.

She turned back toward O'Malley and said, "That'd be lovely."

NTNT

"Are you two on the same page, without me?" Riley asked in a low voice, leaning toward Tanya and hoping O'Malley hadn't heard.

"I told you, we're old friends. We practically speak the same language," Tanya replied.

"Yeah, I can tell."

"Besides," she said indignatly as she took a sip of her tea, "he's too old for me, so you have nothing to worry about."

He relaxed visibly and managed to take a sip from his teacup. Tanya took a bite out of a scone and chewed it thoughtfully. After she swallowed, she looked at O'Malley and asked, "Ian's safe, correct?"

"Oh, absolutely," O'Malley replied. "In fact, he's the one that rescued me."

"Oh, you don't say."

"It was really something, watching him disarm the man."

"Really, it was nothing," Ian said from the threshold to the sun room. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, but I couldn't help but overhear."

In one swift movement, Tanya set her cup and half-eaten scone on her saucer and rushed over to Ian, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "Thank God," she breathed.

Ian rested his hands on Tanya's back. "It's good to see you, too," he replied in the same low voice. "How've you been?"

"Worried sick, no matter what anyone else said. I'm so glad you're alright."

Tanya pulled away, and she and Ian walked over to the sofa.

"So, what's shakin'?" Riley asked.

"You know your nation's president?" Ian asked, leaning forward slightly. "He's not the man who kidnapped us, even though they are very much one and the same."

"Let me guess, bipolar or multiple personalities?" Riley asked.

"More like he has two identities, which doesn't strike me as unusual for a politician."

Riley let out a wry laugh, and Tanya returned to her tea and scone. "Care for some?" O'Malley asked Ian.

"Oh, no thank you," he replied, holding his hand up as he spoke.

"So, why you two?" Tanya asked. "I mean, I know Mr. O'Malley has remarkable connections, connections which can help us solve this puzzle, but you?"

"I'm a Howe, simple as that. It could just has easily have been you."

"I know this, but is he really just opportunistic?"

"It really seems that way."

"So, do we give him what he wants?" Riley asked.

"Let's figure that out when it gets here," Tanya replied.

"It'll really take a while for him to find us, though," Ian added. "Last I checked, he was unconscious."

"We should be alright for a while, then. We've got time to figure this out."

"Good."

"Anyone care to go out later?" O'Malley asked, almost absently. "I know the perfect place."

NTNT

Tanya, Riley, Ian, and O'Malley took their seats around a booth in the back, at the tail end of the evening rush, so Tanya noted. O'Malley looked at the other three and asked, "So, what exactly brings you here?"

"We're looking for...something," Tanya began. "You see, it all started with a page in the Book of Secrets belonging to the President of the United States, and this compass," she added, pointing to the compass hanging around her neck. "It seems like you also know something, otherwise you wouldn't have been targeted."

O'Malley lowered his voice. "You're right, I have been targeted, but not because I know as much as you think. I know only enough to get you on to the next phase of your hunt, but it only makes sense if you've found your way this far. My job was to guard the doorway until you found your way, and now here you are, but we're being pursued, which makes our situation especially dangerous. However, there is a way to reduce the risk."

"What is it?" Ian asked.

"Quite simply, we wait until we're certain we can proceed with as little risk to ourselves and our directive as possible."

"And if that proves to be impractical, if not impossible?" Tanya asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have to say, my sister has a point," Ian added. "Traditionally, I've been of the 'I'd rather do it now while I'm certain of the conditions' sort."

"Which makes perfect sense, but you are the only two Howes left, and if we lose you both, then all is lost."

"Hey, quick question," Riley said. "Why them?"

"You'll understand that when you get to the end of this quest."

"Thank you, Mr. Cryptic."

Tanya leaned against the back of the booth and rubbed her eyes. "Alright," she said. "Regardless of the reason for us being here, we should still see this thing through to the end, no matter what happens along the way."

"The question then becomes, can we make it?" Ian asked, directing his attention toward his sister.

"I hope so, but I have the feeling not all of the people sitting at this table will survive."

Riley scanned the booth and chewed his lip. After a moment, he polished his glasses, more to give him an excuse not to try and break the awkward silence than anything else.

Tanya and Ian looked at each other, and after a moment, she leaned into him, and he wrapped an arm around her. "It's going to be alright," he whispered.

"I certainly hope you're right," she replied, returning to her original position. In a slightly louder voice, she said, "Ian has a point. We best keep moving, or else we'll find ourselves stuck again, and possibly stuck in the hands and at the mercy of our pursuer. When can we start?"