Riley zipped along on his way back to Rachel's apartment. He really wanted to tell her more about Ian but he needed more evidence. He grabbed some old newspaper clippings and photos from the first expedition to the Charlotte that weren't saved on his laptop or accessible over the internet. He wasn't trying to scare her. He couldn't ignore how relieved and happy it made him that she asked him to stay with her, but that wasn't important right now. Keeping her safe and protecting her had to be his priority.

As he was driving, his memory flashed back to some of his memories from college again since Rachel mentioned the computer science class where they met.

…

"Your final project for this class will count for 50% of your grade, so I recommend getting started as soon as possible, at least on some fundamentals. Your partner for this project is the person lucky enough to be seated with you at your table," explained the professor at the front of the room.

Rachel glanced at the empty seat next to her, and felt her cheeks flush. Shit. It was only the first day of class, so she didn't want to speak up and be that girl, immediately pointing out a problem. She nervously doodled in the margins of her notebook and followed along as the professor continued reading the syllabus and going over their expectations for the semester ahead. At the conclusion of class, she put her things in her backpack and walked up to the front of the room to where the professor was talking to another student, a dark haired boy who did not look pleased with whatever the professor had just said.

"Um, Professor Curtis?" Rachel asked.

He looked up at her. "Yes?"

"I didn't have anyone sitting next to me in class today, so I just wasn't sure what you wanted me to do about our final project," she explained.

He gestured to the boy standing next to him. "Yes, I noticed that. You'll be working with Riley, my TA."

She frowned slightly. "Oh, that's… I don't think – I can just join a group and make a group of three-"

The professor looked at her inquisitively. "I would rather you just work with Riley instead of making a group of three, Miss…?"

"Rachel Gates," she answered.

"Miss Gates," he continued. "I am not insinuating you need extra help, but I would just rather the final projects are done in groups of two. And it gives Riley an extra project this semester."

Rachel nodded a bit and looked at Riley again. He was still frowning, but he held out his hand to her. "I'm Riley."

She shook his hand and replied, smiling slightly, "Nice to meet you." When she could tell he wasn't going to say anything else, she let go. Glancing at the clock above the professor, she excused herself from the classroom.

Great, he probably thinks I'm some loser with no friends. So stupid. Why didn't I sit next to someone at the beginning of class?

"Hey!" she heard behind her. She turned around and saw Riley running down the hallway after her. She stopped and waited for him to catch up to her.

"I didn't mean to sound annoyed or whatever when Professor Curtis said I had to work with you on this project. It's just, like – I've already got a lot of work to do being his TA and all, so I didn't really expect to have to do this. I'm sorry," he explained.

Rachel shook her head. "It's okay. I'll try not to be too much of a headache."

He smiled at her. "Don't worry about it."

She smiled back at him. "Well, I'll see you around."

…

Riley was snapped back out of his memories when his cell phone rang. He glanced down at it – it was Abigail, again. He answered, "Yeah, Abigail?"

"You don't need to sound so irritated with me," she replied. "I just wanted to call and see how you were. Ben and I haven't talked to you since the other night when, you know…"

"I'm fine," he said a little too quickly. "I'm on my way back to Rachel's place."

"Rachel's place, hmm?" Abigail said.

"Don't say it like that. We're just hanging out. She… she just –" he paused, not sure how much he wanted to say. "She just wanted to hang out. She's fine."

"Are you sure? You don't sound okay, Riley."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, she's fine, everyone's fine, okay?" He pulled up in front of Rachel's apartment building and put his car in park, turning off its engine. "I'll talk to you later."

"OK, bye, Riley," Abigail said.

He hung up on her and grabbed his phone and the bag of snacks he had grabbed from his apartment. He knew that a couple Yodels or Oreos would cheer her up just like they used to. He had also taken his time and actually showered and changed his clothes, too. He couldn't ignore how happy he was to just hang out with her again.

When he reached the front door, he knocked. After a few moments, he knocked again. There was no way she could still be in the shower. He put down the bag and knocked a third time. "Rach?" A weird feeling was forming in the pit of his stomach. He tried the door handle and twisted it, feeling that it was unlocked. He picked up the bag of snacks and opened the door, walking in tentatively. "Rachel?" he called again. He couldn't hear the shower running. He didn't really hear anything. He put the bag on the coffee table and went to her bedroom, calling her name a third time.

He swore to himself, yanking his phone out of his pocket and immediately dialing her number, hoping he would hear her phone ring somewhere in the apartment and she'd only run out for a second with a simple explanation…although he had seen her car was still in the parking lot.

"Pick up," he muttered to himself as he listened to it ring. He couldn't hear it anywhere in the apartment. Where was she?

Rachel heard her phone vibrating in Jordan's – no, Phil, she reminded herself – pocket. He pulled it out and looked down at its screen.

"It's Poole," he said to Nathan and Powell sitting in the front of the car. Rachel's eyes widened as she glanced at it.

"Let her answer it," said Nathan.

Powell looked at him sharply. "What?"

"We can't let him think anything is wrong. Not yet, anyway," Nathan explained. He looked at Rachel in the rearview mirror. "We were supposed to go out for dinner tonight, weren't we?"

Rachel looked back at him, her heart beating faster.

"Tell him that's where you are. That you changed your mind. But don't," he emphasized, "say anything else."

Phil handed the phone to Rachel, and she grabbed it with trembling hands.

"Hello?" she answered, feeling everyone's eyes on her.

"Rachel, where are you?" Riley yelled.

"I'm – I'm out. With Nathan," she replied.

"WHAT?!"

"He came over, earlier, when you were out. He explained everything to me," she continued, pausing briefly when she got an idea. "We're going out for sushi."

"Hang up," said Powell.

"I can't talk to you right now. I have to go," Rachel said quickly, hanging up on Riley before he could say anything else. She hoped he would know what she meant by that last detail.

"Give your phone to Russell," Nathan said. Before she turned around, her phone chimed – someone had texted her.

"What now?" Powell asked, turning around.

"It's just my friend, Tracey," Rachel replied. Phil looked at her sharply. She glanced down at the screen and opened it. "She says she went to the mall since you never answered your phone and now…she's on her way back home."

"Shit," Phil muttered. "I don't have my phone with me. I forgot."

Rachel started to feel sick to her stomach. Not only had Nathan been lying to her but Tracey had been lied to, too. Who were these people?

"Don't respond," Nathan said. "Just hand your phone to Russell."

Rachel turned around to the back seat and handed her phone to the younger man. He grabbed it from her and pulled another phone out of the bag beside him on the seat. He connected them with a cord. "This should only take a couple minutes."

Rachel turned back around in her seat. She closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath. She had no idea how long they had been driving, and she felt stupid for not paying closer attention to where they were – landmarks, street names, anything else. As the car slowed down, she reopened her eyes. Nathan had turned the car into a parking lot behind what looked like an old fire station. After turning off the engine, he unbuckled his seat belt and turned to Powell.

"Don't let her run," he said, getting out of the driver's seat.

Powell turned to Phil and nodded. Phil looked at Rachel and asked her to hold out her hands together.

"It's nothing personal," Powell explained, smirking, as Phil tied her hands together with zip ties. He led her out of the backseat of the car and into the fire station.

When they were inside, Nathan nodded to Powell and Phil, who led her downstairs to the ground floor and to a room on the right. They shut the door behind her, and Rachel heard them lock it. She let out a shaky breath, realizing she had been holding her breath since getting out of the car. She looked down at her hands in the zip ties and then up at the small window at the other end of the room. She wouldn't make it far like this if she tried to escape, if she could even pull herself out of the window with her hands bound. And she had no idea where she was. Her mind was racing. What did they want with her? What time was it? Where was she? Did Riley understand what she'd tried to tell him? She paced around the room. There was an armchair at the other end of the room and a small wooden chair and a desk but nothing was tall enough to help her out of the window.

Her thoughts were interrupted at the sound of the door opening. It was Nathan.

"Hi, love," he said, closing the door behind him. He gestured to the armchair behind her. "Please sit."

"I'm fine," she said quietly. He leaned back against the desk. Rachel noticed he was holding a bottle of water.

"You must be thirsty," he said, untwisting the top and holding it out to her.

"No. Thank you."

He shrugged and put it on the desk beside him, resealing the top. He crossed his arms, looking her up and down. "You look nice. Were you really still planning on coming out for dinner with me tonight?"

"You wish," she muttered.

He laughed a little and shook his head. "Rachel, I'm really not the bad guy here."

"Then why are my hands tied together?" she retorted.

"You're lucky you're not tied to one of these chairs. I can change that if you prefer."

Rachel stayed quiet. She looked down at her shoes again, considering herself lucky that at least she had had the sense to put on her pair of slip on Puma sneakers. She still hadn't ruled out figuring out a way to make a run for it.

Nathan sighed. "I think it's time you and I take this thing to the next level."

She looked up at him sharply.

"We clearly haven't been honest with each other." He dropped his arms from across his chest. "I'll ask you first: is your brother Benjamin Gates?"

Rachel nodded slowly.

"Are you two close?" he asked.

"I…we were…when we were younger," she replied quietly.

He nodded and stood up from the desk, pacing a bit in front of her. "He never mentioned a sister before." He looked at her pointedly. "I spent over a year in communication with him, and then of course on the expedition to the Charlotte, and around the east coast of this bloody country looking for the Templar Treasure, only to be set up by your buffoon of a father before getting arrested in Boston, and do you know what for? Attempted murder, among other things, when your brother is the reason my brother is dead." He stopped, looking at Rachel.

"You don't know any of this, do you?"

She shook her head, the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach growing again.

"I rot in prison for the next four years while he gets to strut around like a hero, a regular Indiana Jones, the great treasure hunter explorer, Ben Gates. And his little sidekick, Riley Poole." Rachel watched him as he continued to pace. "Wise cracking idiot."

"He's not an idiot," Rachel retorted quietly.

He stopped and looked at her again. "Interesting."

"What?" she asked.

"You're so quick to defend him. Moments ago I called your brother a murderer and you have no reaction."

Rachel felt her cheeks flush. She opened her mouth to respond but didn't know what to say. He was right.

He looked down at his wristwatch. "It's getting late. I'll leave you alone and let you get comfortable." He stood face to face with her, reaching a hand up to brush her hair off her cheek. Rachel turned her face away from him, but could still feel his hot breath on her cheek.

"One more thing, love," he whispered in her ear. "You can call me Ian."