Lori- HAI GUYZ!!! Please read the first chapter of our awesome collaborative story and tell us what you think!!

Jaeh – You clicked the story link, so free cookie for you! This is our first collab. story, so please review later? Hope you like it! And here's the disclaimer, courtesy of Lori.

Disclaimer:

Lori- No I unfortunately do not own Riley or National Treasure. If I did I would give him cookies and huggle him.

Jaeh- And if I did, I would take him home and keep him for myself. kidding. xD I'm sure you don't want to read all of these stuff and want to get on with the story - so... on with the story!


When the clock hit 3 AM: that was when he made his move. Devin pulled down his mask, making sure that his vision wasn't impeded, and then adjusted his black gloves. He checked the street to make sure it was deserted and jogged across it,toward a small apartment. Devin headed straight for the fire escape, and with practiced skill, he silently climbed up until he reached the fourth floor. Swiftly, he smashed his elbow through the window and then paused; making sure nobody was alerted by the sound. Satisfied, he reached his gloved hands in and pushed on the broken window. It swung open easily,and he entered, his feet crunching lightly on the shattered groped for his holster, making sure that his gun's reassuring shape was still there – just in case he needed it. He hoped he would need it. It would add some… fun to this.

The house was too quiet. That meant the owner wasn't here. At this time of night, the owner would have music playing on his speakers to help himself fall asleep, or would have the tv on, or be working on his computer. But not tonight. Watching the owner's habits and routines paid off whenever he did jobs like these. But, hell, it would be more fun with him around. Maybe slap the owner around a few times… He wouldn't even have to wait for him.

The job was simple: wait for him to arrive, grab him and take off, then wait for more orders. It involved a lot of waiting, and Devin wasn't a patient man. He decided he could use the additional cash – despite the huge amount of money he was already getting from his employer – and started to roam around.

What he first noticed was the house seemed empty. Not because there was nobody in it, but it seemed too bare. There were no pictures on the walls, no personal items like books or files; even the dvd case was almost empty. He ignored it all, and moved on instead to the first room he spotted. He must keep something here. He moved to the bedroom.

He slipped in quietly, and opened the closet. Clothes. He dug through it, hoping for some jewelry or something of importance. Nothing, so he moved to the drawer. And the next one. And the next one. All unimportant. It didn't, matter, anyway.

Damn. This sucks, he thought to himself, and started to move back to the living room. For a so-called millionaire, he didn't have much in his house. No matter, he'd just wait to nab the owner when he came back. It should go smoothly if everything went well.

Then the door clicked - the sound of someone trying to unlock the door, and he looked for a place to hide. He jumped behind a bookshelf, and waited with anticipation

Like a lion waiting for the lamb, Devin thought in amusement. He watched excitedly from his hiding place as the owner looked over the shattered glass, near the window. The owner's face registered horror, as he realized somebody had broken into his house. Devin reached for his gun, but his elbow bumped into the bookshelf. Shit! Devin thought, as his quarry snapped his head up at the sound. The prey had been alerted to his presence. It started to move back toward the hallway, most likely to go back out the front door.

Devin inhaled sharply, and peeked behind the shelves. He would have to act now. His heartbeat quickened, and he grabbed the gun from his back. The thrill of the hunt; he missed the excitement. God knew how many times he already did this, and still he could never get over the high that it gives.

I planned this job, and I'm going to gain something from it. He pulled the gun from his belt, and grinned, his teeth bared, like he was ready to pounce.

It's time to play, Mr. Riley Poole.



Riley Poole was utterly exhausted. All day staying at Ben's house trying to figure out an important cipher, which Ben wouldn't even tell him what it was for. Riley guessed Page 47, that's why Ben was so hush hush about it but… at this point he was too tired to worry. He fumbled with his key to let himself into the apartment and sighed, dropping his book bag on the ground. He yawned, and rubbed his forehead. I'm beat. I need bed. Now.

Then he frowned.

That's odd… he felt a draft. He was pretty sure he shut all the windows before leaving. He wandered to the living room and his blood ran cold. Shattered glass, all over the rug, the couch.

Oh crap, somebody broke in! He thought frantically, his mind flipping through all the worst-case scenarios faster than a remote. Then he heard a muffled thud from the other room. They're still in the apartment, he realized with horror.

I've to get out of here.

As silently as he could he slipped from the room and into the hallway. The door was only a few feet away, so close. If he could just make a break for it… Just then, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Before he could even react, a dark blur rammed into him.

Riley could only let out a squeak as he was slammed into the wall, his jawbone taking most of the impact. His assailant twisted his arm painfully behind him.

"Are you alone?" A voice growled in his ear.

Riley's heart clenched in his chest and he nodded, absolutely terrified. He felt the cold barrel of a gun press into his side. He couldn't move; he couldn't help but think this guy would not hesitate to kill him if he tried anything…stupid.

"Okay, here's how it's gonna work. You're gonna come quietly with me. If you so much squeal I won't hesitate to empty this bullet into your skull. You got it?"

Riley gulped, his throat suddenly very dry, his heart hammering painfully.

"Got it?!" The man hissed at him, shoving the gun painfully into his rib.

"Y-Yeah," Riley muttered in a shaking voice.

"Okay, come on." He pulled Riley roughly up by the arm and silently dragged him toward the door. Riley only resisted for a brief moment. The gun was jabbed to the back of his head. "Move!"

Then, he was yanked harshly back down the stairs, and into the darkened street to an awaiting car.

"A black Cadillac?" Riley mumbled. "How original."

"Not a word from you," the man hissed in his ear. Riley stiffened as his captor opened the door and shoved Riley into the front seat. Riley managed to get a good look at him for the first time, although there wasn't much to see. He was wearing a black ski mask and gloves. Riley gulped as he pulled some unsavory items from the glove compartment.

"Now sit still." Riley winced as the man roughly pulled his hands behind his back and slapped handcuffs over his wrists. Then he quickly tied his ankles together with rope.

"Seriously, man. Don't you think this is overdoing it a little?"

"Not at all," He laughed evilly at Riley. "We wouldn't want you to run away, now would we?"

Riley had half-a-mind to shout, but the gun being waved in his face was incentive enough to make him think otherwise. Oh God, why does this always happen to me?


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