Thanks for the reviews, guys! Also, thanks for the beta - Booklover Fanatic and LoremIpsum!
Abigail frowned into the dark, not opening her eyes. Who'd ring them in the middle of the night?
She sat up instantly. Ben had already answered.
"Hello?" No trace of sleep in his voice. Since Riley had vanished almost half a year ago, Ben had adopted a strange way of sleeping.
"No, it's no problem. Is it Riley? Have you found him?"
Abigail watched Ben's face. It was Sadusky. She knew it by instinct. Ben's face was apprehensive. Then a quick flash of surprise. And then… desolation. And she knew.
Ben didn't have to say anything. Without a word, he replaced the telephone on the bedside table. He shook his head disbelievingly. For a long while, they just sat there in shock. Then the tears came freely, and they both cried. Abigail cradled Ben in her arms as he sobbed his heart out for his dead friend. Tears coursed across her face. But somehow, it was a relief. To know.
She waited for Ben to pull away before she asked.
"Where?"
"Up north. Too decomposed for positive ID, but they're pretty sure. He had his driver's license on him, that's how they identified him."
"What did Sadusky say? How?"
"Blunt trauma to the skull." Ben pressed his fingers to his eyes.
"A professional hit?"
"Looks like it."
There was nothing else to say. Now they knew. And any tiny ray of hope they had was gone.
They buried him where they'd placed the memorial stone four months earlier. It was worse, somehow, to mourn a friend twice. This time, though, Ben didn't hold back. He even had a speech prepared. Even more people had showed up this time. They cried openly. If Riley had known that such a commotion was made over him, he'd have been ecstatic. He was a celebrity. He was plastered all over the news. His dream of being famous had come true. Only… it was ironic that it had to be in death.
Things had changed. The big museums in London, Paris, Cairo had all held special memorial services of their own. Riley had become more famous than Ben. People all over the world recognized his face, his name. His book's sales had rocketed.
But still, Ben couldn't help but feel that it wasn't right. That it was false.
And he was right. Somewhere in the world, Riley Poole was watching his immortalization grow. But he wasn't happy. He was anything but.
-
Sadusky didn't call them in the middle of the night this time. He waited until morning, called them into his office. He offered them coffee and condolences, and said that he had something to show them. He warned them that if they'd made their peace with Riley's death, they should tell him now.
But he'd piqued their curiosity. Even if they had made their peace with something that happened almost a year ago now, they wouldn't have told him.
He watched them carefully, then sighed and reached for a disk on the table in front of him.
"I did warn you," he said again, placed the disk into a player. The machine whirred as it read the DVD, and the screen showed a kitchen. A dark-haired woman stood by the door, faced away from the camera. There was no audio.
"What is this?" Abigail asked suspiciously.
"Just watch," Sadusky said, gestured to the screen.
The woman turned around, walked into the kitchen. She sat down at a table, wrote something on a bit of paper, then stood up and left. For a few moments, nothing on the screen moved. Then a diminutive figure came through the door.
Abigail gasped. Ben's face didn't change.
The figure walked straight to the table, read the note. The person shook his head, looked around the kitchen. It was a mess. He seemed to just stare at his surroundings for a while, then went to the fridge, took out a can of something. He turned to the camera, and for the first time, the viewers had a glimpse of his face.
Sadusky paused, enhanced the video. Riley Poole's face filled the screen.
There was a long silence, then Ben spoke.
"Was this taken before he was killed?"
Sadusky stared.
"No," he said, wondered how to break this gently. "This footage was recorded recently by a special agent who'd been infiltrating this society for almost three years now."
Abigail stared.
"What?"
Sadusky leaned forwards, folded his hands on his desk.
"Dr. Chase." He paused again. "Riley Poole is alive."
-
For a long while, all they did was stare across the desk at Agent Sadusky. Then Ben cleared his throat.
"How can this be possible?"
"The body we identified as Poole's had no positive identification. You weren't told at the time, but since we're certain that it definitely doesn't belong to Poole, you're being told now. The body was extensively mutilated, most of the bones broken and all the teeth pulled out. But since we had nothing else to go on and identification was found on the body, we assumed it was Poole."
Ben sat back, let out a low whoosh of breath. Abigail reached for his hand.
"We can only guess what happened. Either Mr. Poole faked his own death and is now living a new life, or someone else did and is holding him against his will." Sadusky paused, watched the faces across the desk. "We can think of no other reason for him being alive."
"Riley would never do this to us," Abigail said. "He wouldn't."
"Which leaves us with a hostage situation," Sadusky said.
"We need to get him back," Ben said, looked at the screen. "Where is he?"
"If we move now, we'll put our investigation in jeopardy," Sadusky said. "Our agents have been infiltrating this society for a long time. We only came upon this by accident, someone recognized his face from the news."
"If you've known about this for such a long time," Abigail said. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?"
Sadusky sat back, considered the couple.
"Let me explain something to you," he said. "'This society' is a euphemism. What we're referring to is more of a cult, a religious sect to people looking in from the outside. They call themselves the Analysts. Recruits, or new members, would believe that the Bible contains a code, a secret mission for man to discover. As they graduate from level to level, responsibilities become greater and initiation becomes more intense. Typical cult."
"You think Riley got caught up in that," Ben said. It wasn't a question.
"Well, with his, and your, history of codes and secrets, it's an explanation."
"No," Ben said, shook his head. "No. Riley doesn't believe in God. He wouldn't believe that."
"As I was saying," Sadusky continued. "A few years ago, a subway in Paris was the focus of a terrorist attack, and authorities in France traced it back to the Analysts. They denied any association, but we kept tabs on them. Then another attack was made in Belgium, and many of the senior members of the Analysts had no solid alibis. So we have reason to believe that the cult front is the façade of a terrorist organization, and just a method of recruiting new members. And we had a few FBI agents infiltrate the cult. Two weeks ago, one of them ascended to the second highest level in the society and gained access to several 'communities', like safe houses for members of the society who couldn't afford accommodation."
"In her report of last week, she said there were many more secrets to uncover and that one specific community was especially mysterious. While the others were like people sharing a house, this one had a number of locked doors and areas where she wasn't allowed. She considered it strange, but when she casually remarked this to other members, she was told it was only a recent addition and some people who needed special treatment, like children, were housed in the community. Suspicious, she planted a small camera in the kitchen.
"Her latest report came through yesterday afternoon. She'd written that she had recognized a Mr. Riley Poole, who was reportedly deceased, and had sent this clip along for verification. Also noted were a teenage girl and a toddler. Certainly interesting. She would make an effort to gain more access to this community and find out more."
Sadusky leaned forward, pressed the tips of his finger together. Ben and Abigail were silent.
"That's all you know." Again, a statement from Ben. No questions.
"Yes." Sadusky considered them again. "Now, if it's not too painful, we need your help."
-
Twenty minutes later, and they hadn't proceeded. Instead, they seemed to have backtracked.
Sadusky sighed.
"You're absolutely sure Mr. Poole wouldn't agree to donate his fortune to this organization and go into hiding."
"Yes," Ben and Abigail said simultaneously, glanced at each other in amusement.
"Riley was…" Abigail paused, recomposed herself. "Riley is too selfish to do that. He's a born sponger."
"A sponger?" Sadusky raised an eyebrow.
"A leech. If there was a way for him to not spend money, he'd find it," Ben explained. "If we were getting pizza, he was there. If someone was having a birthday, he'd go halves on a present and 'forget' to pay the difference."
"And I can't see Riley going into hiding voluntarily." Abigail twisted her hands in her lap, shook her head. "He wrote that book of his for publicity. He wanted to be known, to be recognized."
"He certainly got his wish," Sadusky pointed out. Abigail closed her eyes.
"You don't know Riley. He wouldn't have wanted this. He wanted people to see him, not what happened to him."
Sadusky understood. He didn't know Riley Poole as well as he could have, but he understood Abigail's words. It made sense. Someone in Ben Gates' shadow writing a book for publicity wasn't about to fake his death if that's what it takes for people to recognize him.
"Let's look at the other angle," he suggested. "Other than his professional technical expertise, any particular reason an organization like this would benefit from having Riley?"
Ben and Abigail exchanged a glance, shook their heads.
"I don't know they put up with him when we barely did," Abigail said softly.
"Why is that?" Sadusky pounced.
"He complains like there's no tomorrow and only stops talking if you put a gun to his head," Ben smiled, forgetting himself for a moment. Sadusky watched his face in sympathy.
"We know he's alive, Ben," Sadusky said. "We're going to bring him home."
"Where do we go from here?" Ben asked.
"We wait," Sadusky said. "I'll have another report next week around this time. I'll give you a call."
-
"Are you okay?" Abigail asked quietly as they walked out of the FBI building.
"I'm fine," Ben said. "A little shocked. I was just starting to finally put it to rest."
"I feel the same," Abigail said, placed a hand over her lips. "I can't… I can't believe he's alive. It's been a year, Ben."
"I know," Ben said, uncharacteristically pulled her into his arms. "But he's alive. He's alive."
Abigail's eyes brimmed with tears as she hugged him back.
"It's… it's the best news I'd had in my life" She pulled away, rummaged through her purse for a tissue. "Are going to tell your parents?"
"I don't know yet. I should. They might both die of heart attacks if Riley suddenly shows up on their doorstep."
"When you're ready, Ben," Abigail said. "It's… a little big. We both need to process it first."
"Yes," Ben said, looked into the sky.
Riley was going to come home.
Yay! Riley's not dead! Why, did some of you really think I'd actually kill Riley? Okay, my imagination is dark, but actually killing him is a line it'll never cross. That's going too far.
Sorry for not getting straight into the good, juicy angst that we all love, but the next chapter explains all. Keep a watchful eye on the horizon.