Disclaimer: I do not own National Treasure, just Elizabeth and this particular plot idea.

Chapter Ten

"Sir, the autopsy on Miss Chase is complete, here you are," an agent murmured, handing Sadusky a file.

He nodded his thanks and quickly flipped through it. Abigail, Ben, and Riley waited impatiently for the results. While they already knew Elizabeth was alive, this could confirm their hopes or completely dash them to bits.

"Well?" Riley asked, bouncing in his seat impatiently.
"It's a dummy: an extremely clever one," Sadusky said quietly, still thumbing through the papers.
"So, they killed someone else and replaced Elizabeth with it?" Abigail asked.
Sadusky glanced up at their confused faces, "No, it's a dummy, not another human. That's why it's so clever. The best dummies in the underworld, but they sell for a hefty price. Howe must have really wanted Elizabeth to spend so much on her abduction. These dummies aren't all that rare, but without an autopsy they're virtually undetectable."

At the mention of Howe, they all grimaced in extreme distaste.

"Well, we're getting her back so it won't matter what he wants anymore," Ben said firmly.
The other two nodded their heads.
Sadusky sighed, "Let's get moving."

___

It was eleven at night by the time they all arrived on the outskirts of the island. Abigail, Ben and Riley were stationed with an agent on a small boat about a half-mile out. They were all festooned in black with binoculars glued to their faces. They couldn't see much except for a couple dark blobs moving about on the island's perimeter. All three of them were itching to be there themselves but Sadusky had expressly forbidden it.

They watched the FBI agents creep up to the house when suddenly, large spotlights flared on, blinding everyone who wasn't prepared for it. Howe's men swarmed out and apprehended every agent on the island. They could hear the distant cry of a megaphone and someone shouting, "If you don't want a blood-bath on your hands, I want Abigail Chase, Benjamin Gates, and Riley Poole. You have five minutes starting... now!"

The three looked at each other uneasily. What a drastic turn this night had taken...

___

The day had passed by in a pleasant blur of restful enjoyment. Ian had been so kind and yet Elizabeth still had doubts. It was dinner again and she sat there, pushing food around her plate.

"Elizabeth... did that man say anything in particular? Anything I should know?" Ian asked suddenly.

Elizabeth paused her building of a dam of mashed potatoes. She looked up into his steely eyes and flinched away, "H-He said s-something about an F-FBI but I d-don't know what that i-is," she stuttered.

He nodded and went back to eating. Elizabeth noticed that her hand had been shaking. She gulped and willed it to stop, "M-May I go s-sleep? I'm v-very tired," she whispered.

Ian studied the woman of his affections: she had taken to stuttering when he got angry. He sighed and resolved to be nothing more than the picture of calm and serenity... at least around her.

"Of course you can, I'll walk you up Elizabeth," he replied.

She nodded and allowed him to lead her to her room, but instead of going upstairs, he led her downstairs. After a few minutes of walking through confusing hallways, he led her to a metal door, "Elizabeth? I'm afraid that the FBI coupled with Poole will try to kidnap you so I moved your room down to the basement. It's very secure, you'll be okay, all right?" he opened up the door and she stepped inside.

It seemed as if Ian had tried to make it as comfortable as possible with a rug, nice bed, and nightstand with some books on it. He took her hand and gently kissed her forehead. She stood there numbly, "I won't let anyone harm you, I promise."

He then walked from the room, shutting the door behind him. She heard a tiny 'click!' and knew the door was locked. She sat on the bed and tried not to hyperventilate. Placing her head in her hands, she tried to breathe calmly and soon melted into her thoughts.

This place was toxic: she was loosing herself. Ever since she had spoken with that man, her curiosity had been thoroughly aroused. She felt some conviction deep down in her that she never, ever stuttered before. She wasn't skittish or weak. She raised her head: her eyes were on fire with determination. She finally knew something that was concrete. Something deep inside her was trying to claw its way out and scream, "This isn't right!" and it was slowly working its way loose.

She ran a hand through her hair distractedly but paused when she felt a pin. She grinned, the first since she could remember, and stood up; her eyes alight with real happiness.

"I'm going to find out who I really am, with or without Ian's help," she said without one hint of fear in her voice. Her spine seemed to have straightened and her spirit was almost fully mended, it just needed someone to help it become complete.

She began to pick the lock, wondering if she had had any prior experience in such matters. Shrugging, she continued, determined to get to the bottom of things. If Ian wouldn't give her any answers she felt were satisfactory than she would just go with those FBI people and figure it out from there.

She was satisfied to hear a small 'Click!" and stowed the pin back in her hair in case she would need it again. She opened up the door cautiously, hoping none would stop her. To her puzzled delight, there was no one around. Erring on the side of caution, she tiptoed down the hallway. She paused when she heard muffled shouting and pounding.

"Can anyone hear me? I know there's a guard out there, please!"

Elizabeth cautiously made her way over to the door where the commotion was coming from. Gathering her courage, she called out hesitantly, "Are you a prisoner of Ian Howe or a friend?"

The pounding and shouting stopped.

"Obviously if I'm stuck in here, I'm a prisoner. Who are you? You're not a guard, are you? Could you possibly get me out of here?"

She thought for a moment. Decidedly, she bent down and began to pick the lock, "Yes, I'll get you out."

It took about a minute but she was again rewarded with a lovely 'Click!' She stepped back as the door was opened quickly by an elderly man He stared strangely at Elizabeth, as if he were seeing a ghost.

"Are you all right sir?" she asked, unsure of what was wrong.
"All right? I'm fine compared to you! You're dead! Well, you're supposed to be anyways... Why aren't you dead?" he asked, taking a step backwards.
She blinked, "That's news to me sir, I'm not dead: at least as far as I know. You're free now and I have to be going. I need to find some FBI people and figure some things out. You're welcome to come with me though."
He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder, "You aren't dead! Then, Elizabeth, what are you doing here? Ian... He must have kidnapped you and staged your death, and please, you should know me enough by now not to call me sir."
She looked at him strangely, "I don't remember anyone or anything sir. I have amnesia and all the information I have to go on is what Ian's told me so far, which isn't much... So, I'm going to go find the FBI that are coming here to arrest him and figure out my life. Coming or not?"
He in turn looked at her strangely, "Yes I am, but you don't remember anything? What has Ian told you? You shouldn't believe him, he's not to be trusted."

They began to move down the hallway.
"No, just waking up with no memories. Ian told me that he was after a treasure, my sister and I were kidnapped, Ian was wrongfully set up and sent to jail, and a man named Riley Poole is evil and wants me. I don't know whom to believe, he's been very kind to me, even if he does act strange and frightening at times. But I feel like he's not telling me everything so I'm going to go with the FBI because I think they'll tell me the truth," she said softly. Pausing at a set of double doors, she looked him in the eyes, "Do I know you?"

She had no idea why she was telling this complete stranger everything she knew about herself, but she just felt like she could trust him. At lease, trust him more than she could Ian.

"Yes, well, you did. I'm Patrick Gates. Your sister and my son are... involved with each other. We all became entangled with the treasure... Some of us literally," he mumbled the last part to himself.
Elizabeth smiled softly at him.
"Let's get out of here Patrick, I'm tired of this oppressive atmosphere."
"Truer words were never spoken."

Well, Patrick's back! When I originally wrote this, there were no plans for a sequel so it didn't matter that he had died, but then when the second movie came out I was like "Crap..." So I wrote him back in! I hope it's not choppy for you, I kind of like how it came together so neatly. I hope you guys liked it, thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts!

Aly