Chapter Fourteen
"What happened?" Riley asked as soon as Ian and Sadusky walked into the sitting room.
"Well, the President's at large and it seems we're at a dead end of sorts with regard to the basement," Ian replied, taking a seat on one of the wooden chairs in the room. "At this point, I'd like to ask if anyone present at this very moment has any suggestions as to how we proceed."
"How about we just go home?" Tanya asked. "I'm beginning to wonder if this is an elaborate scheme by one or another or more than one party interested in causing our downfall in a treasure hunt to say they were the ones that found the treasure and came out on top. Maybe this time it's not worth it, all it is being a wild goose chase."
"As much as she sounds like my dad, it actually makes sense," Ben added.
"Well, good thing you're considering this, because based on that body in there, we have a murder scene," Sadusky said.
"Is there something I'm missing?"
"All you need to know right now is that there's a dead body in a tunnel under the streets of London. You don't know the person, and we need to begin an investigation immediately, as your friend here indicated that it wouldn't be long before the killer is off the map and back into the world of American politics."
"Seriously, who is it?"
"We'll explain on the way back," Tanya said. "Right now, let's just leave."
"Okay then."
"Fine by me," Riley added.
"When do we leave?" Ian asked.
NTNT
Tanya sighed and slouched back in her seat. The plane was already taking off, heading back toward Washington, D.C., and there was no way she was able to go back to London right at that moment.
Her fingers drifted over the compass around her neck, and she was tempted to rip it off, but what would she do with it? What could she do with it? She felt like she was saddled with this thing for the rest of her life, and finding out what it was supposed to lead to was becoming more and more mentally challenging. If there was a way to get rid of the Compass and all it represented, was she willing to do it? What if that was the only option? Would she still take it?
She was beginning to question her faith in the quest, but at least she had Ian and Riley, for however long that would last her. Then there was the problem of the President, who was God knows where by then, and there was Shaw's ghost, who still seemed to always be around, just like in life. Even more, there was the prison riot where Ian had been beaten to within a centimeter of his life, and she still had no idea who'd done it. She hadn't been contacted by the police for over two weeks regarding any progress, which led her at one point to suspect the worst: that the case had gone cold.
There were so many other things for her to deal with and worry about, so why was she worried about some stupid treasure which may or may not be at the end of what at first appeared to be a wild goose chase? Was it because of Ian? Riley? Ben? All three? None of the above? As she thought back on the events that led her down this road, she could only assume the correct answer was 'all three', with Riley having the largest and most predominant influence.
What went wrong? she asked herself. How did a simple, albeit dangerous treasure hunt end up like this? She wondered what had happened on the first treasure hunt, where at first Ian and Ben had teamed up to look for a ship in the middle of an ice field, and then, some time later, Ian's best friend, the mildest term for the relationship anyone could come up with, fell down a virtually bottomless hole in the ground only to die on impact, or of a heart attack from fright on the way down.
Not that Tanya intended to talk to Ian about it, at least, not yet.
Eventually, in spite of engine roar and the general ruckus of the passengers, she fell asleep.
NTNT
When the plane landed, Ian, rather than wake his sister, carried her off the plane himself, ready and willing to explain himself to any officials who asked about the scene. Fortunately none did, and he breezed through the check without event to meet Riley in the airport lobby. Ian soon caught sight of Viktor, Powell, and Phil, positioned close to the door, but not disturbingly so, and walked right over, Riley close behind.
"So, what's the story?" Viktor asked.
"There is none," Ian replied. "Nothing happened except a murder and an escape from justice."
The group walked out of the airport, following Powell to a black minivan. Once he unlocked it, Ian had the back door open and was laying Tanya on the floor across the width of the van, as well as he could. Riley hopped inside and lay across the middle seat. Phil sighed, climbed over Riley, and settled into the back seat. Viktor was a little more graceful, but he, too, climbed over to the back, leaving Ian and Powell to settle into the front.
As they drove home, the conversation between them was stilted. There were the usual pleasantries, such as "How was the flight?" and "How was the meeting?" These were answered with their usual stilted responses: "Fine," "Good," and "Alright," among others.
Riley watched Tanya stir, and he decided nothing would change if he shared the details of this drive with her when she woke up.
NTNT
About ten days after the dust settled, Ian was sitting at a table in the sun room, enjoying a nice cup of tea, when his phone rang. Gingerly, he set the cup down on its saucer and pulled his phone out of his pocket, giving the caller ID a brief glance before answering. "Hello, Ben."
"Hey, Ian. I just got back from a little trip to London to check out your basement. You've got a few hundred years of British history in there. What do you want me to do with it."
"Firstly, I want you to send everything to the United States and find a place for it all. Then, call me when it all arrives. I want to rifle through all that stuff."