ANOTHER CLUE
-Dis/Claimer- x x x . Chapter Eleven . Eyes forward, Ben went into the family restaurant behind a couple with three teenagers. He craned his neck over many heads as the man in black and his accomplice took his son and daughter to a table in the back and out of sight. Ben looked above the area they had entered; a small sign with a cigarette covered with a red circle and slash caught his eye. The family in front of him was soon seated, and he approached the waitress anxiously. “Table for one,” he said. “Smoking or Non?” she asked. “Non, please.” “Right this way.” He followed the girl in the blue shirt through the lunch hour rush or business workers and families. He was almost wishing she would hurry up and run, and it felt like an eternity before they reached his table situated across the room from the twins and their captors. He sat down in the booth quickly. “What can I get you to drink?” “Just coffee for now, and I’ll have the special.” “Which one?” “Soup special,” he said absentmindedly, looking over at other booth. Sally swung her legs back and forth under the table while he saw Charlie drawing something on his placemat with a green crayon. The waitress walked away, and he tried not to look over at them so much. He guaranteed that they were not safe. “I have to go to the bathroom!” he heard Sally whine from the opposite wall. The two men argued before the one in the black stood up, grabbing her wrist tightly as they headed straight toward Ben’s booth. He looked in front of his booth and saw the entrance to the men’s room. He discreetly took a menu from a waiter’s tray that passed him and hid his eyes behind it. Sally walked by with the man in black (the man he was certain had taken them), and they went in. The waitress then returned with his coffee and a bowl of potato soup and left. He unwrapped his silverware to retrieve his spoon after she had gone, but it rolled out of his hand and onto the carpet. He bent down to pick it up. When he looked up however, he saw Sally walking right by him a foot away, staring at him. His eyes got big and his chest clenched as he relied on her not to give him away, but she stopped, and her eyes got big, too. “Daddy?” Ben felt everything slip from under him as the man in black turned around and locked eyes with him. The man pulled on Sally as she screamed for Ben in protest and attracted the attention of the entire non-smoking section. Several people stood up and went for the man or the girl, but Walt pulled out a gun, stopping everyone as Carl dragged Charlie out the emergency exit screaming. Walt fired a shot before going out, and Ben ran forward through all of the stunned customers after them. Charlie and Sally were pulled across the busy path of traffic as Ben spotted them. He dodged taxis and trucks and cars as the businessmen on their way back to their offices scrambled to get out of the way of Walt and Carl running up the street with two small children. Ben ran faster when he began to loose sight of them in the crowd. Suddenly he had lost him, but Charlie’s voice cried out again. He ran towards it. A corner was turned with a wail from his daughter, and Ben came flying around the corner at top speed. He had an abrupt stop, however. His jaw met the solid rock fist of Walt, and he fell back into the ground blankly for a moment. Sky and buildings meshed together as he sat up. Ben watched them get on a bus with ‘FORT GREENE PARK’ running across its marquee. He got to his feet slowly, trying to run before he was able to. The bus pulled away from the curb, and he stumbled to the edge of the busy street, hailing a taxi. He fell into the backseat immediately saying, “Fort Greene Park. Hurry.” x x x At triple three Adams Street, Riley and Patrick entered the Marriott Suite in a fast stride. Patrick was extremely inquisitive since his nap in the car, and Riley talked fast as he searched the large lobby for someone who might look like an FBI agent. He pulled out the paper with the address as he walked, but there was no name supplied of the agent they were to meet. “Figures,” he muttered. “They don’t even leave us a name.” They walked up to the service desk, and the clerk walked over to them. “Can I help you?” “Yeah,” Riley said slowly. “Is there anyone here waiting for a Ben Gates or Riley Poole?” “Ah, yes,” the clerk said. “The gentleman over there.” “Thanks,” Patrick said as they walked over to the man in the red chair. Riley stopped in front of the man with Patrick, and the man lowered his newspaper, standing. Riley’s eyes got wide as he looked at the man. “Hey, I know you!” he said. “You’re that guy from the FBI building that told me and Ben that we were crazy for trying to say that someone was going to steal the Declaration!” “Agent Hendricks,” he said blandly, extending his hand. Riley shook it effortlessly. “You are the guy that turned us down!” Agent Hendricks did not need reminded of this anymore, so he impatiently changed the subject back to a more important and pressing matter. “You are with Ben Gates, correct?” “Yes,” Patrick said. “Where is he?” “We spotted the twins with two men on the way here and he went after them,” Riley explained. “It was at this restaurant called Calendar up the road. We don’t know if he’s still there or not.” “Was Ian Howe with the children?” Hendricks asked. “No, but the kidnapper and some other guy were.” “Can you contact Gates at all?” “Yeah, hang on,” said Riley, pulling out his phone. He mumbled to himself as he dialed Ben’s cell phone number and turned on the speakerphone. He held it for all of them to hear, and Ben finally picked up. “Yeah?” “Ben, where are you?” Riley asked. “Fort Greene Park,” he said, sounding out of breath. “I followed them here, but I lost them. I think they’re going to Ian. I’m trying to look around the park for the kids, but I can’t find them. I know they’re here, though,” Ben said with a hint of determination common to his voice as he scanned a grassy scene in front of him. “Did you find the hotel?” “Yeah, we’re here. We found the agent, too.” “Good. I’m not meeting Ian for another two hours, but-“ Suddenly, a blast was heard over the phone, and Riley held the phone away in surprise. He brought it back to his face quickly speaking directly into it when no other sound was heard. “Ben! Ben? Ben, are you there? Ben?” Riley held the phone away. “The line’s dead,” he said. Panic was working its way into his voice steadily. Agent Hendricks pulled out his own phone, pressed one button, and began talking. “Barnes, it’s Hendricks,” he said. “Mr. Poole and Mr. Gates Sr. have arrived, but Ben Gates is under fire at Fort Greene Park, suspect Ian Howe. Dispatch units immediately and locate the two children if possible.” “Under fire?” Riley asked quickly, looking up from his phone with Patrick. Now the sound suddenly registered that they had heard before the line went dead. Agent Hendricks hung up the phone. “Follow me, please, gentlemen,” he said quickly as they went for the elevator. x x x “We found the agent, too,” Riley had just told him from the safety of the hotel. Ben put a hand on his hip, looking around more in the open park. “Good. I don’t have to meet Ian for another two hours, but-“ An explosion seemed to come from his phone. Ben jumped and dropped the phone feeling a burning sensation in his ear and on his hand. He couldn’t hear anything out of his right ear. The top half of his phone was completely missing on the grass below. He looked up after hearing another gunshot, but no one was in sight. He ran. The park goers were screaming in panic as patrol officers ran around, and Ben headed for the street as the shots continued. He was ready to hail another taxi as he held his bleeding ear in pain, but a dark brown car pulled out of traffic right beside him. The car door flew open with arms reaching out for him, and before he could turn around to run, strong arms pulled him into the car, and it veered into traffic again. He sat up between a man in a blue blazer and Ian. He held his ear still, and Ian handed him a handkerchief from his pocket. “Now now, Ben,” he said sportingly. “You should know better than to openly involve the FBI.” Ben took the handkerchief and held it to his deaf ear after wiping off his hand. His ear was still in tact, but it was burned from the bullet. “Where are they?” he asked in a raspy voice. “Where are my kids?” “Where is my painting?” “I want to talk to Charlie and Sally first.” “It is not in your favor at this time to be making rash demands,” Ian said. “But we’ll let you speak with them after we fix your ear. You’re lucky Noland here is such a good shot. A little more to the left, and you would’ve been killed.” Ben threw him a look. Two more inches and he would have strongly resembled his decimated phone back in the park. “Where are Charlie and Sally?” he asked. “Don’t worry, Ben,” Ian said nonchalantly. “They’re safe. Just be careful you do nothing to upset me, and they will stay that way. Horace, make a right here.” x x x It was now getting late, and Riley and Patrick got more uncomfortable with each glance at the clock. It was seven-thirty now in their suite on the twentieth floor they were ordered not to leave for their own safety, but Riley was going insane. These passed five hours were nerve-racking. Riley laid on the bed with the television on the local news channel hoping hear something about Ben while Patrick was in the shower, and all he knew was that Ben was missing after the shootout in the park. He was supposed to call home hours ago but delayed it; how was he going to tell Abigail? What if she asked to talk to him? Regardless, he dialed the number and held it to his ear. “Hello?” Riley’s face fell at the voice. “Oh great,” he said. “It’s you.” “I hate you, too, Riley,” Carolyn said. “Yeah, yeah, just give Abigail the phone,” he muttered. “She’s asleep.” “Wake her up. It’s important.” “No way!” Carolyn laughed incredulously. “I just got her to sleep after arguing with her all day to calm down when the FBI left, and I am not waking her up now. What’s so important?” “Nothing,” Riley replied stubbornly, looking at the painting and document case under the window beside him safely. He was in no mood to talk to her about this afternoon. “Then why are you calling?” “To talk to Abigail.” “Well I guess you’re out of luck. Bye.” “DON’T you hang up,” he said loudly, sitting up. On the other end back in the manor, Carolyn smiled slyly and placed the phone next to her ear again. “Something you wanted to talk about?” she asked sweetly. Riley sighed miserably, but she was his only option. He leaned back into the pillows again. “Is Agent Kinley still there?” “No. But they are only the push of a button away. What’s wrong?” “Well, at least I don’t have to tell Abigail…” he mumbled. “Tell her what?” “Ben spotted the twins before we reached the hotel this afternoon and went after them in this restaurant, and when we got to the hotel and called him, there were gunshots and we haven’t heard from him since.” His voice got lower at the end of the statement, and Carolyn kept listening. “He’s missing now, and no one knows where he or Ian or the kids are. They won’t let us out of the hotel room either for safety purposes.” Carolyn bit her lip as her hand suddenly crept towards her back pocket and found the smooth edge of Riley’s PDA. She was about to speak up, but different words came out. “Did you… figure out the cipher anymore?” Where had that come from? she asked herself. Not that it hadn’t been crossing her mind all day… Riley repositioned himself in the bed as he stared at the television in front of him. “Yeah, we figured the whole thing out,” he said with the excitement from earlier now nonexistent in his tone. “It was a cryptogram with a shift cipher. Ben and I figured out the next clue right before he spotted the twins in the street.” “What is it?” she asked. “We need the original Star-Spangled Banner sheet music from the Library of Congress,” Riley said distantly. “The cryptogram said ‘Surprise’ and ‘Stay in Key,’ so we made the connections, and that’s what we’ve got to do next.” Carolyn was astonished. “How are you going to get back here to look at it?” “We’re not,” he said. “It’s going to have to wait. We probably couldn’t go any farther without Ben anyways.” “Abigail and I can always go have a look at it,” Carolyn suddenly said. “The Library of Congress is open tomorrow, unless tomorrow’s Christmas…” Riley got skeptical. “You would?” “Of course,” she said. “I’m as eager as you to see if your theory of the portrait leading to a dead end is true, though I’m hoping it’s not.” His face relaxed into a lopsided smile at her confession. “Me, too,” he admitted quietly. “It would be nice to prove Ben wrong for once, though, but not about this. It’s my turn to call finder’s fee anyways.” Carolyn’s smile grew until she emitted a breath of laughter into the phone. “Anymore big blueish-green men in there somewhere?” Riley laughed, too. “Oh I hope so,” he said sarcastically. “I’ve got to find him a friend.” His laughter subsided, and he said: “But you would… you’d go look at the sheet music tomorrow?” “Yes,” she said. “I just need to know what we’re looking for.” “I don’t really know, but the way the Ottendorf message read, it was directed more toward the music than the words. That’s all I can really think of. Just that the next clue involves the national anthem’s sheet music.” Carolyn nodded as she slowly worked Riley’s PDA out of her back pocket and turned it on. She went right to the GPS section again as she talked. “Have you seen Ian at all today?” she asked. “No.” “You still have the portrait then? And the Constitution duplicate?” She went to ‘Ian’ on the PDA and hit ‘Select.’ “Yeah,” Riley said from the hotel room. “Sitting right next to me against the wall. We got a cover for the canvas, too.” Carolyn was happy to hear that Ian hadn’t gotten hold of them yet as the GPS tracked Ian’s phone down on the global scale. “Are you going to tell him about the sheet music clue when you give him the portrait for the twins?” National scale search… “I wouldn’t think so,” Riley said, having never thought about it. “But Ben’s probably going to make the call on that. I just wish I knew what had happened to him.” Regional scale search… “Whatever you do, don’t give him the next clue,” Carolyn urged. Riley lifted an eyebrow. “Why?” State scale search… “Because we know how dangerous he is,” she said, trying not to sound like she knew him better than Riley would (she was still under her disguise after all). “He sent people to take the twins, killed an FBI agent, probably has Ben right now… if you tell him the next clue, the waging on lives is going to mean nothing to him.” “It already does,” Riley pointed out. “That man last night almost killed you.” City scale search… “Let’s not go there,” she said, wanting to forget the feel of the gun against her neck. She watched the PDA in her hand. “Just don’t tell him the next clue. Promise.” “I won’t, but I don’t know about Ben… What’s gotten into you?” Street scale search… Carolyn watched the PDA zoom in on a block of Adam’s Street. Her eyes lit up in fear. That was where Riley and Patrick were now. That was where the painting was. She felt weak. “Riley?” He noticed the distress in her tone and sat up some. “What?” Building scale search… The PDA beeped and moved with the target inside the building. He was in the hotel, and no one knew it. Carolyn drew in a breath as she watched it move in a zigzag direction, more than likely up flights of stairs over the hotel’s blue square on the screen. “What is it?” Riley pressed now. “Carolyn?” “Hide the painting,” she said. “What? Why?” Suddenly, the door opened behind him, and Riley turned around to see Ben enter the room. He lowered the phone with disbelief, and the twinge of happiness he felt for seeing him alive and well vanished when Ian walked in right behind him. Riley stood up as Ian stared him down with the polite smile he had hoped he’d never see again. His phone hung limp in his hand as Ben approached him with a warning look not to open his mouth. “Good evening, Riley,” Ian said. “Imagine seeing you here.” Riley was paralyzed as Ben turned toward him. “Riley, where’s the painting?” he asked softly. He didn’t move immediately. “Riley,” Ben said gently, “give me the painting and the duplicate.” “Ben-“ His friend’s eyes silenced him, and Riley slowly bent down and retrieved the canvas and document case uneasily. He sat the case on the portrait and handed them to Ben, nervously keeping an eye on Ian. He held onto them as Ben looked up at him expectantly to let go. “How did you get him in?” he whispered to Ben. “I told them I had just escaped him down the street, and we came up here,” he said under his breath to Riley. “What about the twins?” “They’re fine, now let me have the painting.” Riley put trust in Ben and reluctantly allowed the painting to leave his possession. They were all right for now, so long as he took Carolyn’s wise advice not to tell him about the next clue (or even let him know that they knew it). He watched Ian pull a table into the middle of the room, and he and Ben laid out the canvas and Constitution duplicate. “Where’s my dad?” Ben asked him, jarring him from his phase of shock. “In the bathroom,” Riley answered awkwardly. “Lock him in.” He stared at Ben. “What?” “If he sees Ian, he’s going to be even worse than when he saw the Declaration in his own home. Grab that chair and put it in front of the door.” Riley obeyed, though he didn’t know why; Patrick was going to be causing enough commotion for being locked in a bathroom when he got out of the shower. Afterwards, Ben beckoned him over to the table, and he went over cautiously. “Hold this up,” he said, giving Riley one end of the portrait. They stood it on its side to show Ian the Ottendorf cipher. “What does it mean, Ben?” Ian asked. “In relation to the Constitution?” “Nothing with just this page,” Ben said. “We need all four pages to figure it out. The cipher is page, line, and letter, and we only have this one page, so it won’t work.” Riley’s mouth almost fell open. His theory was the basis for deception! Ian looked to be thinking long and hard. Finally, he looked up. “Where are the other pages, Ben?” Ian asked accusingly. Ben gave him a level glare. “This was the only page, Ian. There were no others.” “And where am I to find the others? In your wonderful little… National Archives, perhaps?” Ian seemed to be thinking along the lines of Riley, and Ben closed his eyes, obviously sensing that this was going to be brought up. Riley gulped, but he was ignored. “No, Ian,” Ben said desperately with anger. “Yes, Ben,” Ian replied smoothly. “Unless you’d rather further endanger and end the lives of your children.” Riley could not believe how heartless Ian had become. The guy used to be decent. Now, as Carolyn had said, lives meant nothing to him. He wanted to haul off and hit him, but he was having trouble breathing right now. Riley looked over at Ben; he was trying to think of another way out, but there was nothing, and he knew it. “What do I have to do?” he murmured to Ian finally. Ian’s despicable smile appeared. “Leave everything to me, Ben. I’ll have it all ready by tomorrow. You won’t even have to get it.” Ben looked up at him suspiciously as he kept talking. “I understand your wife has a high power in the Archives, doesn’t she? Has the privilege to see the documents first hand without having to bypass security?” Riley watched Ben’s face fall, and his mouth was agape at Ian. “Don’t,” Ben pleaded. “She’s in no condition, and I’m not letting you risk her job.” “Oh, but I have a feeling you will.” “I’ll do it.” “Why?” Ian almost laughed. “You’re all the way up here in New York, and she’s already there. Come now, Ben. I’ll let you see your children tomorrow afternoon at the wharf. If you don’t involve the FBI with our meeting that is. There will be a car two blocks down to pick you up at noon.” Neither Ben nor Riley had a say in the matter. Ian was walking towards the door now, ready to leave. “Don’t you dare hurt her,” Ben suddenly called out to Ian in a low growl. Ian turned around. “That’s not for me to decide,” he said. Then he smiled again, opened the door, and disappeared. Riley and Ben watched the door a moment, Riley silently wishing one of the FBI agents in the hotel would nab him on his way out. x x x Outside of the hotel, Ian got into the Chrysler on the far curb waiting for him. Nearing the wharf they were hiding at, Ian finally spoke to two of his lesser but qualified men. “Noland, I have a task for you and Horace,” he said. “What is it?” the man beside him in the blue jacket asked. “You are to drive to Washington D.C. tonight and pick up Abigail Gates and Carolyn,” he said. “Here’s the address, and I want them unharmed. Call me when you have them and wait for instructions.” x x x Riley nodded off after another two hours. Patrick was forgotten in the bathroom, but when they let him out, they told him about Ian after swearing him to secrecy about sneaking off to meet Ian tomorrow. Ben had claimed Riley’s cell phone, trying all night to reach the manor back in D.C., but it was fruitless. ‘We need more phones in that place,’ Riley remembered Ben saying after hanging up and trying yet again. Riley didn’t get it. Had Carolyn never hung up the phone? Or maybe Ian had people stationed at the house already? If so, that was bad – they would be stealing the Constitution for nothing, and they wouldn’t make any headway with the sheet music clue at all. Hopefully they could reach them before Ian’s men got there so they could get out. Ben had mentioned something about an idea and that this may not have been the best decision telling Ian a lie, but Riley was deliriously tired at this point. He thought about a mess of things in a brief few seconds. The twins, Ben griping about his ear, Abigail being forced to steal the Declaration… No, they had already done that… Constitution. Right. What did the next clue lead to? They needed search dogs. Maybe then they could find Ian. Charlie wanted a dog for Christmas. A beagle. A beagle named Rudolph. Rudy for short. What was Carolyn doing? Was she asleep? Eating? Cleaning? He hated her for being so pretty. x x x Abigail had almost had the baby when Carolyn passed on the news to her about Ben that Riley had told her. She was clinging to the phone after that in the bedroom, but she soon fell asleep after making call after call to reach Riley again. At least she knew the FBI there was helping. But now, the phone lay with a dead battery on the floor of the master bedroom, forgotten. x x x Midnight. Ben was going to bed after hours of unsuccessfully reaching the manor on Riley’s cell phone. Riley was asleep dreaming about attending a Halloween party in college. Patrick was asleep, also. Noland and Horace were bound for the Gates’ manor in D.C. without warning. Abigail was in a troubled sleep with a dead phone beside her. Carolyn was sitting on her bed with the bright screen of Riley’s PDA illuminating her face in the darkness that surrounded her. Ian was stationary on the coastline between the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges. Riley’s laptop and cell phone both sat inside the hotel’s box idly as well, and Ben’s phone came up ‘No Data Available’ when selected. Riley wasn’t kidding when he said the phone’s top half was blown off, she guessed. Carolyn was nervous. Everything was so involved now. Charlie and Sally were in danger, Ben almost had his ear torn off, and Ian was motionless on the PDA, which was bound to mean he was plotting something. Or sleeping. But she doubted it. Everything had gone wrong! Everything! She wasn’t getting rich now (though she was alive instead courtesy Riley’s interlude with his giant knife), her brother double-crossed her, and she was aiding her previous enemies, not to mention she had kissed her most hated and recent rival. What was it with him? He wasn’t even attractive. He wore jeans and a hoodie and never combed his hair, and he had an unhealthy obsession with computers. So what if she liked computers, too? At least she wasn’t as bad as he was… And he was such a jerk. Rude, self-centered, picky, impolite, a jerk… he smelled funny… Well, maybe he wasn’t all that bad if you got passed the untamed hair, computer obsession, and jerk thing. He did look semi-decent in a tuxedo, even when it was soaking wet. Actually, that was kind of funny. He was so mad… Carolyn caught herself. Bad. BAD. Riley – BAD. If you overlooked the kiss. And the remarks he always had ready to fire back at her. They were pretty good. She gave him credit for that. . Please Review .
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