Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A shaft of moonlight shone through the barred window onto the floor where Nate sat against the wall of his cell. The prison was quiet except for the distant sounds of laughter from the guards and the heavy footsteps of the patrol on the walkways above. 

Nate turned the broken cross over in his hand as he had done a thousand times before, studying it as if this time it might reveal an answer, as if this time he would discover some clue to the mystery he had sacrificed his life for. 

It had been fifteen years since he had seen the world outside the prison walls. It was strange to think that he had come here willingly all those years ago. They thought it would only be temporary. They thought nothing would go wrong.

Nate tucked the cross back in his pocket and glanced across the cell. Apparently Nate wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep tonight. His cellmate was standing at the bars silently, staring out into the dark hallway. 

Hector Alcázar was a small but tough man. Nate stood a few inches over him but he wouldn’t dare to say that he would ever look down on him.  

The crime lord's brutality was infamous. When they had first moved Alcázar into his cell, it might as well have been a death sentence. If the crime lord ever decided he wanted a private room, Nate wouldn’t survive the night. Nate had turned on his humor and charm, not without a good dose of fear and humility, and attempted to make himself an interesting enough diversion that he was worth keeping around. 

Luckily the Spanish arms dealer had taken more than a little interest in his stories about Henry Avery and lost pirate treasure. But Nate still slept lightly and didn’t dare turn his back to the Butcher of Panama.

“Listen,” Alcázar said. “The guards, they are singing.”

Nate listened quietly to the slurred singing that was echoing from somewhere down the corridor. “They sound drunk.”

“Yes,” Alcázar said. “But they are content. How can they be content with their small lives? Their miserable jobs?”

“Well,” Nate said, “They probably have wives to go home to. Good food. Good beds... That’s better than what we’ve got. No offense.”

“We have ambition,” Alcázar snapped. “And when we get out of here, that ambition will take us places those idiots cannot even imagine.”

Nate laid down on his cot and tried to find the softest spot on the thin mattress. “I like your optimism.”

“What will you do when you get out, Nathan?”

“I’ve been here fifteen years,” Nathan said. “I’m starting to worry I’ll never see the outside of these walls.” He meant it as a joke, but he couldn’t keep out the painful twist in his throat that suggested it might be true.

“Ah,” Hector said, not turning back to look at Nate. “But you would die if you could not imagine a life beyond this cell. Tell me, what would you do if you were free?”

Nate took the hint and smiled. “I would discover the greatest pirate treasure of all time.”

Alcázar sighed, “Henry Avery and his lost treasure have become a sweet lullaby for me.” 

He stood there, looking out into the hallway, the dim light of the corridor barely outlining his silhouette in the darkness. He finally glanced back at Nate, his eyes small points of light in the darkness. “Do you really think you could find it?”

“Given the opportunity?” Nate smiled. “Absolutely.”

Alcázar chuckled. “Like I said: ambition. What is your Avery quote?”

Nate nodded, “I am a man of fortune, and I must seek my fortune”

Alcázar grunted in agreement. “I like how he thinks.”

In the distance there was a rumble that might have been thunder. 

Nate sat up and rose to his feet warily. He knew the sound of machine gun fire too well to mistake it for anything else.

“What the hell was that?”

“The opportunity of a lifetime,” Alcázar said. “And you’re going to help me find it.”

There was a panicked shout suddenly cut short. Heavy, running footsteps turned into four, armed men as they rounded the corner. They saw Nate and leveled their guns at him. Nate backed up, but there was nowhere in the small cell he could go.

The men unlocked the door and stepped inside, arming Alcázar with guns and armor. One of Alcázar’s men glanced at Nate and spoke quietly in Spanish.

Alcázar looked back at Nate and smiled, answering back in Spanish.

Nate looked between them hoping Alcázar hadn’t just ordered his men to shoot him.

“Are you ready to seek your fortune, Nathan?” Alcázar asked.

Nate glanced at him and smiled nervously. “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice.”

Alcázar chuckled, “Indeed.”

One of the men grabbed Nate and pulled him out of the cell. The group started down the hallway at a jog. 

Now that they were out, Alcázar’s men didn’t pay Nate any attention, but it wasn't like he could run away. He was probably going to die in Alcázar’s insane escape attempt, but Nate didn’t dare risk Alcázar’s annoyance if he slowed them down by trying to stay behind.

The prisoners around them yelled and clambered at the bars as they ran past. They rounded the corner where two guards had, until very recently, been at their posts. One was lying face down on the floor. The other was slumped in his chair. They were both very dead. 

In the office beyond, more guards lay lifeless on the ground. Nate heard a groan behind him and turned around. One of the guards was dragging himself away from them. Nate looked away as Alcázar aimed his gun and fired.  

Alcázar looked at Nate, something like amusement in his eyes. He pulled the gun from the dead man’s holster and tossed it to Nate. “These men are sadistic, Nathan. We’re doing the world a favor.” 

He turned to his men. “Open all the doors.”

“Wait!” Nate said. “It will be complete chaos if you do that.”

Alcázar chuckled. “Exactly.”

The metal clamps released and every door in the prison swung open. Throughout the prison, the alarms started wailing in panic.

“Stay close, Nathan,” Alcázar grinned.

His thugs pushed open the metal doors and they charged ahead under the cover of the riot. Guards fell from the second or third floor walkways as prisoners pushed them over the edge. Guards and inmates alike were shot down by Alcázar’s men if they happened to cross the crime lord’s path.

Nate did his best to keep his head low and stay out of the crossfire as they advanced through the prison. Somewhere in the back of his brain, his mind was trying to come up with some witty crossover between “Panama” and “pandemonium”, as if bad puns would save him from a prisoner’s fist or guard’s baton. Reality set in as a guard’s head thunked off the railing beside him as he fell from an upper story. Nate glanced at Alcázar’s back and realized how quickly the crime lord would leave him if he was struck down or fell behind.

He quickened his pace and tried to tune out the shouts, maniacal laughter, and screams that echoed off the walls around him.

They battled their way across the prison and burst into a room where they were sheltered temporarily from the chaos outside. The men barred the doors behind them. 

Nate looked around and realized they were trapped. The walls were solid concrete. There was no door other than the one they had come through that barely held at bay the raging tide of bodies outside. 

Somebody’s head dented into the door as if in emphasis.

One of Alcázar’s henchmen pulled out his radio and spoke into it sharply in Spanish.

“Nathan, get behind something,” Alcázar said.

Nate looked at him. “What? Why?”

Alcázar grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him down behind the cover of an overturned desk. 

An explosion sent chucks of concrete and drywall flying through the air. 

Nate peered over the edge of the desk. Through the new hole in the wall, he saw a team of armed soldiers waiting on the other side.

"Oh my god."

Alcázar stood and walked towards them as if they were polite hotel workers who had just opened the door for him. Nate scrambled back to his feet.

Alcázar's men led the way through the maze-like passages of the outer prison. The winding complex of walls and concrete were beginning to look dangerously familiar.

Nate desperately tried to keep away feelings of dread and deja vu. Every step further made his chest ache with the scars of the old gunshot wound he had earned in his last attempt to escape from this infernal place. For some reason, he found himself listening for Sam to call his name.

Nate put his head down and focused on following Alcázar. 

He didn’t see the guard until the baton slammed into his ribs, knocking Nate to the ground. 

Nate tried to roll away but the guard pinned him against the wall. Nate grabbed the man’s rifle as he raised it to fire. There was a loud blast and the guard sank to his knees, suddenly missing a considerable weight from the top of his head.

“Come on, Nathan,” Alcázar growled, lowering his gun. “Keep up.”

Nathan gingerly pushed the dead man’s body away from him and followed after Alcázar. 

They were heading in the opposite direction he and Sam had taken years before. Alcázar was leading them not toward the cliff but to the front gate.

Bullets suddenly ricocheted overhead and they all ducked to find cover. The scars Nate’s chest ached, though he knew he hadn’t been hit. 

The prison guards were trained but they were nothing against Alcázar’s men. They dropped so easily in the wake of the thugs that it seemed cruel.

A guard raised his head and took aim at Alcázar. Nate leapt over the low cover and kicked him back hard against the wall. He slammed the heavy butt of the rifle down with a thick crack against the man’s skull and the guard dropped limply to the floor. 

Alcázar smiled and nodded at him. Nate tried to convince himself that the concussion the guard would wake up with was probably a mercy: he would, at least, wake up.

He looked up as they rounded the corner into the courtyard.

Nate gaped. “Jesus Christ.”

The courtyard was a warzone. Everything was on fire. Watchtowers burned and shots were being fired in every direction. Through the smoke and chaos, it was impossible to tell friend from foe. A stream of heavy artillery fire was destroying what little cover Nathan could find and Alcázar and his men were still moving on relentlessly.

“Nathan!” Alcázar yelled from somewhere ahead.

“I’m pinned down!” Nate shouted back, ducking as a line of bullets whistled through the air over his head.

A massive explosion shook the ground and Nathan peered out just in time to see the watchtower collapsing in on itself, taking the heavy artillery with it.

Alcázar led them up the stairs and over the top of the wall. They dropped to the ground on the other side just as three white vans pulled up.

“Inside! Go!” Alcázar yelled.

With the crack of gunfire behind him, Nate didn’t need to be told twice. He leapt in the van after Alcázar and heard the metal ping of the bullets as the door slammed closed behind him and the car took off.

Nathan sank to the floor of the truck in stunned silence. Alcázar took a flask of water and handed it to him.

Nathan took it cautiously. "Thank you."

“How long until you find Avery’s treasure?”

Nate blinked. “What?”

Alcázar glared. “How long?”

“Oh, um... Well first I have to get back to the States. See if my contacts are still around. Continue my research… It’s hard to say until I actually get going on it. It’s not really an exact science.”

Alcázar looked up at the driver. “Deténgase aquí.”

The van screeched to a halt. 

The door opened and Nate was dragged out and thrown to the ground. A thug pulled his gun. Nate was on his back in the dust. He held up his hands and looked from the gun to Alcázar, pleading.

“I like you, Nathan,” Alcázar said, getting out of the van. “More importantly, I believed you. But now… I am beginning to doubt.”

“I-I can find it,” Nathan stammered. “I just need time.”

Alcázar turned to one of his men and spoke in Spanish and the guard handed Alcázar his knife.

“Woah, Alcázar. Wait. Wait!” Nate gasped. “I will get it. I will find it. I swear.”

Alcázar lunged forward and pressed the knife to Nate’s throat, pinning him to the ground. “How long?”

Fear and adrenaline were hammering through Nate’s veins. His mind raced. “Six months,” he gasped.

“People always ask for more time than they need. Three months.”

“That’s impossible!”

“Three months. Half the treasure. Can you do it?” Alcázar asked.

Nate could feel the blade biting into his neck, already drawing blood. “Yes,” he whispered. “I can do it.”

Alcázar smiled and stood up. “The nearest town is ten kilometers in that direction, towards the sunrise. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the sunrise outside, huh?”

Alcázar threw a water bottle and a wad of cash in the dirt beside Nate and then climbed back in the van with his men.

Nate looked up at him, shock and fear leaving him feeling weak. “When I find it, then what? How do I contact you?”

“Don’t worry. When the time comes, I’ll be there to collect.” Alcázar smiled, “Buena suerte, Nathan. For your sake, I hope you find it.”

Chapter Text

Nate leapt up and snatched the bottom rung of the fire escape. He pulled himself up and climbed the ladder as quietly as he could. On the last step, the safety latch suddenly gave way and the ladder slid to the ground with a loud crash. Nate winced and waited. 

A dog barked somewhere in the night but the street below remained empty and quiet. He pulled himself up onto the landing of the fire escape and peered through the window. Everything was dark and quiet. 

He eased the window open slowly and crept inside.

He waited for his eyes to adjust and looked around his old apartment. He sighed with relief. With the addition of a few empty whiskey bottles and a dirty ashtray on the table, everything was nearly perfectly where he had left it fifteen years before. 

He crept towards the bedroom and looked inside. The sheets were ruffled as if it had been slept in but the bed was empty. Nate sighed. He had hoped to find Sam.

Nathan walked back into the living room and went to his desk where he had kept all his notes on Avery. The empty whiskey bottles weren’t the only new things in the apartment. A silver-white laptop lay on the desk, resting on top of his papers like a fancy paperweight. 

Nate gaped, “Is that a computer?” 

A slurred voice suddenly shouted in the darkness and Nate jumped half out of his skin.

“You no good son of a-, get the hell out of my house!”

Nate turned just in time to dodge a blow from the half empty whiskey bottle Sully swung at his head like a bat.

“Woah! Sully, wait! It’s me!”

Nate scrambled backwards as Sully charged again with a drunken swing.

“I know who you are! I told you never to come around this place again.”

Nate grabbed Sully’s bottle-wielding arm and shoved his friend backwards, pinning him against the wall. “Sully, wait! Calm down!”

Sully’s head bobbed upwards drunkenly as his eyes tried to focused on Nate’s face. He seemed to calm down. More than that, he seemed to go limp.

Nate let go of him slowly, wondering if he was just going to fall over. 

Sully stared at his face in a daze. “Nathan?”

“Yeah, Sully, it’s me. What are you doing in my house?”

“Your house? This is ain’t your house. You’re dead!”

“Sully, I’m not dead.”

“Piss off, ghost!” Sully roared and charged again.

“Sully!” Nate yelped as he dodged another blow. “Sully, stop! It’s me, Nate! I’m not a ghost! Ow!”

Sully brought the bottle down on Nathan. The drunken blow knocked him off balance and Sully staggered back against the wall, then sank to the floor and began to cry.

“My father was lousy,” Sully sniffed. “I had a lousy childhood. I figured I was never going to have a kid of my own. I never wanted one. Then you came barreling into my life. And I-” 

Even in the darkness, Nate could see the tears running down his face. 

“I got you killed, Nathan. I’m sorry. You were just a kid. I never should have let you go. I should have been there for you.”

Nathan stared at the old man in front of him, weeping, still clutching the half empty bottle, and realized just how much time had really passed. 

He knelt down and gently pulled the bottle from Sully’s hand. 

“You didn’t kill me, Sully. Look,” Nate put his hand on Sully’s shoulder and gripped him firmly. “See? I’m not dead.”

Sully grabbed him and clung to him tightly. “I’m so sorry, Nathan,” he wept. “I’m so sorry.”

When Sully came back to the land of the living, he found himself lying on the couch where he had fallen asleep. A shaft of sunlight made the throbbing in his head spike painfully. 

He faintly became aware of the smell of toast and wondered if he was having a stroke. Then Nate came in from the kitchen holding a plate piled high with toast and two cups of coffee. 

“Rise and shine, Sully!”

Sully groaned. “I thought I was dreaming." He cracked an eye open and looked at Nathan who smiled at him, lit in the golden glow of the early morning light. “But now I know I’m just dead.”

Nate rolled his eyes and set the plate down on the table. “You're not dreaming. And you’re not dead.” He grabbed a slice of toast and took a greedy bite. He shut his eyes in ecstasy. “Oh my god. I never thought toast would taste so good.”

Sully reached over and picked up a slice of the blackened bread. He tapped it on the plate and it made a hard tink tink tink sound. 

“That’s not toast, son, that’s charcoal.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Nate said. “I haven’t cooked in fifteen years.”

Sully sat up slowly and looked at the man sitting across from him in his living room. He looked a little older perhaps, but underneath it was the same boyish face he remembered.

“How come I got old and you still look like that?” Sully muttered.

“It’s my devastating good looks,” Nathan said around a mouthful of toast. “Beauty has no expiration date.”

“Some people have all the luck.”

Nathan laughed mirthlessly and took another slice off the plate. Sully looked around the room and then back at Nate.

“I don’t think I’m dead,” he said at last.

“What clued you in?”

“If I was in hell, you wouldn’t be here. And heaven would have decent toast.”

Nate laughed. The sound brought tears to Sully’s eyes.

“Nate, what the hell happened?”

“I got shot,” Nate said. He pulled up the corner of his shirt to reveal the line of scars that peppered his abdomen. “Things went bad and we were under heavy fire. Sam and Rafe… It’s not their fault. They thought I was dead. Hell, I probably should be dead. But the prison doctors patched me up. Then they tossed me in a cell and threw away the key.”

“But you were alive this whole time... Why didn’t you reach out to us? We could have bribed the warden or-”

Nathan shook his head. “We killed a guard, Sully. They weren’t going to just let me walk. I tried to get a message out to you guys, to Sam, but they had me locked down pretty tight. When the guards so much as suspected I was up to something, they'd throw me in solitary for a month. Heck, they locked me down for stuff I wasn’t even a part of.”

“How did you escape?”

“Yeah,” Nate rubbed his head nervously, “I’m in a bit of a pickle on that point. A few months ago they roomed me with this guy, Hector Alcázar. He’s this big crime lord down in Panama and… he’s not one of these guys you want to mess with, you know? I wanted to get on his good side, so I told him about Henry Avery and his treasure. I might have tooted my horn a little too well because now Alcázar is hell-bent on the treasure and he thinks I’m the only one who can find it.”

“Shit. How long did he give you?”

“Three months.”

Sully shook his head and sank back into the couch.

“I need to get in touch with Sam,” Nate said. “I need to let him know I’m okay and that I need his help.”

“Nate,” Sully said, “Your brother and I haven’t exactly been on speaking terms lately. I have no idea where he is. He got into some sort of trouble a few months back and has been under the radar and off the grid ever since.”

“Well, what about Rafe?”

“Last I heard, that moron is still blowing up some island north of Scotland.” Sully shook his head, “The man’s got money and power but he has no brains for stuff like this. Even if there is anything there, Rafe sure as hell won’t be the one to find it.”

Nate sighed. “Sully, I’ve got to find Sam. He knew more about Avery than anybody, maybe even more than I did. He’s the only one who can help me pick up the trail again.”

“Kid, your brother looked for that treasure for years after you-” Sully shook his head. “If there was anything left of the trail, he and Rafe would have found it by now.”

“But they were shooting in the dark. They didn’t have this.” Nate pulled out the Saint Dismas cross and handed it to Sully.

“What is it?”

“The whole reason we were in that prison to begin with. This is the clue Burnes left in his cell.”

“It looks familiar,” Sully muttered, turning it over in his hand.

Nate shrugged. “The guards let me keep it. They’re a very religious bunch, despite being the sort of people who beat up inmates on a regular basis.”

“Nate,” Sully interrupted, “I’ve seen this before.”

“That’s impossible. Sam and Rafe both got a good look at it, but it was with me when I fell. It hasn’t been outside that prison in three hundred years.”

Sully stood up and started walking away. Nathan followed him over to the desk and watched as he pulled something up on the laptop.

“I saw it on the catalog for a black market auction.” Sully said. He clicked on a picture and pointed. “Does that look familiar to you?”

It was an exact replica of the Saint Dismas cross from Burnes’s cell. Nate grabbed Sully's shoulder, his face bright with excitement.

“Sully, our cross was broken when we found it. It’s hollow inside.”

“So?”

“So? Look, that one is still whole. Whatever was in ours must still be inside that one. That’s the trail, Sully! It’s at that auction. That’s how we find Avery’s treasure.”

Sully leaned back and smiled. “And lucky for us, I have an invitation.”

Chapter Text

Nate swallowed hard and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Sully, are you sure about this?” 

Sully rolled his eyes. “Relax, kid. You’re going to ruin your suit.”

They breezed along the road that hugged the Italian cliffsides as they wound their way to the auction house. Nate glanced at himself in the mirror and then checked behind them as if he expected to see someone following them.

“What if someone recognizes me?”

“Nate, you’ve been dead for fifteen years. Nobody’s going to recognize you.”

“You said I looked exactly the same. Remember?”

Sully shrugged. “Yeah well… There won’t be anybody at this party who knew who you were anyhow.”

“Quit talking about me like I’m still dead.”

Sully ignored him and continued, “They’re just a bunch of high class, low-life criminals. And you are not what they’re going to have their eyes on. This ain’t that kind of auction.”

“Isn’t it suspicious for me to just walk through the front door with you?”

“No!” Sully said. “Look, I’ve got an invitation and my invitation includes a plus one. You’re my plus one. Now quit your worrying.”

They turned the corner and the asphalt road changed into beautiful, paved brickwork as they came up to the main gate of the Rossi Estate.

They rolled to a stop and an armed guard stepped up to the car. Sully handed the guard their invitation and Nate did his best to look like a nonchalant party guest, and not like target practice for the hired guns who were smoking cigarettes and holding AK-47s like this was just a normal day at the office. 

Nate was just starting to wonder if smiling at them would be too over the top when the guard handed Sully back his invitation and waved them through. 

Nate let out an audible sigh of relief and slumped back in his seat.

“Kid, if you go in looking that nervous, they’re going to think we’re here to steal something.”

“We are here to steal something.”

“Yeah, but there’s no need to telegraph it.”

“Well I’m sorry, but the last time I was around heavily armed guards I wasn’t wearing a bowtie and fancy Italian leather shoes.”

Sully glanced over at him. “They’re not that fancy.”

Nate looked out the window and suddenly forgot to worry. 

The mansion stood picturesque against the blue sky, its white walls and red Tuscan roofs gleaming in the golden light. 

Sully’s sleek white Audi, which Nate had worried would look too conspicuous, was easily the least fancy car at the party. Next to the gleaming Ferraris and Alfa Romeos and their richly suited and gowned owners, Nate and Sully looked like the ugly cousins you forgot you had invited to the wedding.

A valet took the car key and Sully and Nate climbed up the steps to the front door. Nate tugged nervously at his neck collar and straightened his suit. 

“I think we should have sprung for the fancy shoes,” he whispered.

Sully rolled his eyes. “Just focus on the job and quit worrying about your looks.”

“Easy for you to say, you look like James Bond. I looked like I showed up for prom in a rented tux.”

Sully’s mustache almost hid his smirk - almost. 

If the outside of the Rossi Estate was palatial, then the inside was no less glamorous. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling above and silk covered the tables. Waiters wandered through the crowds offering expensive champagne and antipasti.

“I definitely feel underdressed,” Nate muttered.

“Shut up, you look great.” He glanced around and nudged Nate, speaking quietly under his breath. “Look. There's the door that will lead you to the cellar. From there you can cut through to the storage room.”

Nate glanced at it and nodded. He followed Sully through the crowd, smiling and nodding politely and hoping the sweat hadn’t leaked through his suit yet. Sully casually walked up to the target and gave the handle a gentle pull. The door swung open.

“Damn good luck,” Sully grinned and handed an earpiece to Nate. He tucked his own into his ear and glanced behind them. “You’d better get inside before a waiter comes by. And don’t forget, if you get caught, just play dumb and pretend you’re looking for the bathroom.”

Nate nodded and slipped through. Sully shut the door behind him, checked his watch, and walked back into the crowd. 

Sully wandered around, smiling and nodding at the people around him. He didn’t notice the figure approaching from behind until something hard pressed against his back.

“Turn around slowly.”

Sully slowly turned and Nadine smiled. 

“Hello, Victor.”

Sully grinned, “Nadine. Pleasure seeing you again. I hardly recognized you out of your fatigues.”

“Yeah, you know how it is. Every once in a while the job requires us to get all ‘dolled up’. Looking sharp by the way.”

“Not too bad yourself. Red’s a good color on you.”

Nadine smiled and turned to watch the crowd with him. “I feel so out of place here. It’s a relief just to find another English speaker. Even if you are American.”

“You’ll have to blame my parents for that one.”

“I’m heading to the bar. Can I get you anything?”

“Sure. Scotch on the rocks.”

He watched her leave and lifted his cigar to his mouth. Under his breath he muttered, “Nate, you catch all that?”

“Yep. Sounds like that lady’s trying to buy you a drink.”

“Nadine Ross is buying me a drink. She runs an army-for-hire. Shoreline. I had a run-in with them a while back.”

“What kind of run-in?”

“My kind.”

“Well, she doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge,” Nate said.

“Fortunately. But she’d only be here if someone hired her. Be careful and keep your eyes open.”

“Copy that,” Nathan’s voice answered.

Sully shifted and looked around the room. Something wasn’t right. The murmur of the crowd grew excited as the new auction pieces were brought out. Sully’s eyes fell on the penitent gold figure on a black cross. 

“Shit. Nate, we’ve got a problem. The cross is here.”

“What? But it’s supposed to be in storage.”

“They must have changed the lot order. We’ve only got ten, fifteen minutes before they start bidding.”

“There has to be some way we can grab it.”

“What? Just walk up and take it in front of a few hundred eyewitnesses?”

“Alright, I’m heading back to you. We’ll think of something.”

Sully nodded. His eyes suddenly fell on a waiter who was carrying a tray of champagne and working his way towards the front of the crowd. Nadine reappeared at Sully's side.

“Recognize someone?”

Sully pulled his eyes away and smiled. “No. I thought I did, but no.”

Nadine studied him carefully then gave him a friendly smile. “Say, when am I going to meet that partner of yours? Drake?”

“Sam? We’re not really on speaking terms. I fly solo these days.”

“From what I’ve heard, you haven’t been flying so much as swimming.” 

She smiled and handed him his glass of scotch. Sully frowned.

“Sullivan!” a voice behind him said. 

Sully grit his teeth into a smile and turned around. “Rafe. Good to see you again.”

Rafe smiled and shook Sully’s hand as Nadine moved to stand beside him.

“How long has it been, Sullivan?” Rafe grinned. “Ten years?”

“Fifteen,” Sully answered. “Nadine’s with you then?”

“Little extra help to protect my property. Or soon-to-be property. How about you? You here for anything in particular?”

Sully laughed, “Yeah, like I’d want to bid against you. You could probably buy up everything on the block tonight if you wanted to.”

Rafe smirked and nodded. “Well, it’s great to see you. I would be very interested to know what finally convinced you to come out of your hole.” Rafe’s smile did not reach his eyes. “Cause we both know it wasn’t me.”

Sully smiled wanly. “Nothing particular, I’m afraid. Just thought I'd pick up a little something to add to my collection.”

“Well, the bar is that way,” Rafe smiled. “I’m sure you could find something there.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sully saw Nate appear on the balcony behind Rafe and Nadine and look in his direction. He’d heard everything through Sully’s earpiece and knew to stay well away. 

There were three people on this planet who knew Nate well enough to recognize him on sight and they were all here in this auction house. Sully cursed himself. He should have known they wouldn’t be the only ones after the cross.

Over the speakers, a soft, musical voice announced, “In a few moments, we’ll begin bidding on our next item: an inlaid wooden crucifix from the Trott Estate.”

“Well,” Sully smiled. “I know when I’m a third wheel. You kids have fun tonight.”

Rafe grabbed his arm firmly. “Just hold on, Sullivan. How’d you find out?”

“Find out?” Sully smiled. “About what, Rafe?”

Suddenly the lights cut out. Voices murmured worriedly in the dark. Then the generators kicked in and dim, emergency lights flared to life. Rafe and Nadine looked around in confusion. Sully was just as surprised as they were.

Then a voice cried out, “It’s gone!”

Rafe and Sully’s heads snapped up to the auction stand, now noticeably short one inlaid wooden cross. 

Nate’s voice crackled over the earpiece. “Sully, I saw him! It’s Sam.” 

Rafe’s confusion was turning to rage. Sully slipped away quietly into the crowd. When Rafe turned around, Sully had vanished.

“Kid,” Sully said, “you’d better go after your brother. Things are about to get hairy. I’ll get the car and bring it around front.”

Nate was already hurrying towards the service door Sam had disappeared through. 

He suddenly slowed to a walk and changed directions when an armed guard moved in front of it. Every exit was now heavily guarded, locking the place down as swiftly and solidly as a cell door swinging shut. 

Nate walked upstairs as smoothly as he could without drawing attention. He stepped onto the outside balcony and, the moment he had a clear shot, jumped over the railing onto the roof.

The entire estate had lost power and the guards were yelling to each other, the beams of their flashlights swinging in the darkness. 

Nate ducked down onto a ledge, narrowly avoiding the bright beam of a guard’s flashlights that was now sweeping the rooftop. He glanced around and saw a familiar figure crouching in the shadows on a roof below him. 

“Sam,” Nate breathed.

The searchlight moved on and the figure broke into a run and disappeared from sight. 

Nate ran after him, leaping over the gaps between buildings, trying to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest as he chased after Sam. 

When he got to the place where Sam had been, he stopped, breathing heavily. He heard footsteps on the pavement below. 

Sam was on the ground. Nate didn’t have time to figure out how he got down because his brother was on the move again. Nate ran after him, following him from the rooftops above.

Nate wanted to call out to him but the guards were everywhere. Sam was heading towards the main gates. It was Sam’s only option unless he brought a parachute and felt like some nighttime cliff diving. Any other direction would lead them to the sheer cliff that guarded the estate on three sides.

Below him, Sam suddenly skidded to a stop and dove behind a low wall. 

Nate could hear a guard’s voice somewhere nearby. 

Sam sat with his back against the wall as the guard passed behind him. He took a deep breath and slowly started to pull his gun out of his waistband. 

He froze as he heard the guard’s angry shout. The guard’s rifle swung towards him and Sam looked up just in time to see someone leap off the roof and tackle the guard to the ground. 

The figure slammed his fist into the guard’s face, knocking him to the ground. 

Sam leapt over the wall and raised his pistol. “Don’t move,” he growled.

The guard unconscious on the ground, the attacker slowly raised his hands and turned around. 

Waves of confusion, guilt, and surprise swept over Sam’s face as his little brother gave him a nervous smile.

“Hey, Sam.”

“Nathan,” Sam answered dumbly.

“Yeah. Mind not pointing your gun at me?”

Sam stared at the pistol in his hand like it had turned into a snake. He turned the gun away and pulled his brother into a tight hug.

“Nathan, I don’t understand. How are you here? You were-”

A voice suddenly shouted in surprise above them.

A rain of bullets suddenly peppered the walls as Sam and Nate dove for cover.

“Come on!” Nate shouted. “We have to get to the main gates!”

Chapter Text

“Hey Sam,” Nate panted. “You know how I said if we lie low, we can sneak past the guards?”

“Yeah?”

“Well that doesn’t work so well if you shoot at them!”

Nate took a running leap off the rooftop as a hail of bullets smashed the tiles behind him. Close behind, Sam leapt across the gap and rolled to his feet in one smooth motion.

He turned and grinned. “What’s your point?”

Sam and Nate ducked around a corner and charged down a passage, away from the guards and their spray of bullets. 

“My point, Nate panted, “is that I just got out of a place where armed, angry guards were pointing guns at me. It would be nice if we could avoid that type of situation for a bit.”

They were hiding in the shadows on a rooftop walkway level with the third story of the mansion on the opposite side of the courtyard from them. There were no guards in sight but the brothers could see the beams from their flashlights sweeping the walkways coming toward them.

A pair of double wooden doors stood behind them, guarding the entrance to some small room beyond. Sam tried the doors and they swung open easily. He grabbed Nate’s arm and pulled him inside, locking the doors behind them. 

Their small room was only a viewing room, with concrete benches and a few murals on the walls. There was nowhere to hide if the guards had a key and decided to look inside.

Nate pressed himself flat behind the wall and listened as the running footsteps of guards grew closer and then passed them. 

“Fine,” Sam whispered. “We’ll try it your way.” 

He looked around the room and nodded towards a window on the far wall. 

A narrow ledge that ran along the outer wall a few feet below the window was the only thing between them and the pavement three stories below.

“Well,” Sam chuckled. “No guards will follow us this way.”

“That’s because they aren’t insane,” Nate hissed.

But Sam was already on the outside of the building. 

Nate climbed through the window and lowered himself down slowly until his feet were planted firmly on the ledge. The wind whipped at his clothes and, not for the first time that evening, he wished he was not wearing a tux. He’d take mud-caked boots over Italian leather shoes any day, no matter how fancy they were. 

Nate forced his eyes away from the long drop beneath them and followed his brother as they moved carefully along the wall, following the narrow ledge as it wrapped around the building. Sam peered around the corner cautiously. 

“Shit,” he muttered. “There’s a guard.”

Nate glanced down at the sheer drop beneath them and then back at Sam.

“We don’t really have a lot of options here,” Nate reminded him.

Sam nodded and looked back the way they came and then glanced around the corner again.

The guard kept a sweeping watch of the surrounding buildings from the high balcony. He could hear voices calling in the distance but there was no sign of any disturbance. 

He sighed and lit a cigarette as he continued his lazy watch of the adjacent rooftops. The thief, whoever he was, was probably already long gone. 

He leaned back against the railing and heard a voice beneath him gasp “Sam, no!” just as a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders and dragged him over the edge.

Nate reached out instinctively but his hand closed on empty air. The guard didn’t scream until he hit the bottom.

“Sam! What the hell?” Nate yelled.

Sam reached down. “Here, give me your hand.”

Sam grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him over the railing. Nate was seething. Sam just laughed. 

“You haven’t changed at all, little brother.”

“Neither have you,” Nate answered darkly.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Sam said. “He probably just broke a couple bones. He'll get insurance pay, a few months off. He’ll live.”

Nate looked down at the man three stories below them. 

“Did you know there were hedges at the bottom?” Nate asked.

“Of course,” Sam answered. “Come on. We’d better not be around when his friends get here.”

Sam led the way down the open-air walkway in the direction they hoped led to the main gates. Suddenly voices beneath them started shouting and the spotlights in the area redoubled their efforts. 

“Oh, they’re mad now,” Sam laughed.

“Yeah, you made it personal.”

Sully’s voice crackled into Nate’s ear through the radio, “Hey kid, how ya’ doing?”

“We’re fine,” Nate said.

Sam looked at him quizzically and Nate indicated to the hidden earpiece.

“Just trying to figure out a way down to you.”

“Fastest way might be through the ballroom,” Sully said.

“Ballroom?” Nate asked. “I thought you said it was locked down.”

“Yeah well, now that they know it’s you guys, they’ve cleared the place out.”

“Okay, Sully, we’re heading that way now. Just have the car ready by the time we get there.”

"I got it, kid. See you soon.”

Sam stared at Nate. “Sullivan is our getaway driver?”

“Yeah. Why don’t you sound happy about that?”

Sam scoffed, “No, it’s just… I’m surprised you got him sober enough to come to the party, let alone be able to drive.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything. Come on, ballroom’s this way.”

They broke into a run towards the stairs that would lead to the ballroom on the bottom floor of the main building. 

Sam stopped suddenly as voices and heavy boots sounded on the stairway below. They started to turn but voices echoed from the walkway behind them. 

Nate looked around frantically.

The building below them had a roof that sloped up against the main building where a line of half-moon windows were set into the wall of the third floor.

“Come on,” he whispered. “There’s an open window across the roof.”

The brothers slipped over the railing onto the roof, running as quietly as they could across the clay tiles. When they reached the main building, Sam turned and set his back against the wall and gave Nate a boost to the open window above them. 

Nate jumped down into the room and Sam followed shortly behind him.

“Now what?” Sam hissed.

“Now we blend in,” Nathan said, straightening his suit. “We’re exactly where they don’t expect us to be. We’re just going to act casual and stroll right on out of here with everybody else.”

Sam looked at him doubtfully but smoothed back his hair and adjusted his jacket. Nate reached for the handle just as a woman on the other side opened the door and took a startled step back.

“Oh,” Nate said. “Scusi.” 

He smiled and took a step forward but the woman blocked his way. 

“You’re not supposed to be back here,” she said.

“Neither are you,” Nate countered. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I-”

Nadine grabbed Nathan’s hand and twisted it backwards. Her fist collided into his nose, sending him sprawling backwards onto the floor. 

“Ow!” Nate gasped, clutching his nose.

“You have something I want,” Nadine said smoothly. “And you’re going to give it to me.”

“Not likely,” Sam growled.

He pulled his gun and Nadine lunged out of the way and kicked Sam’s legs out from under him. As Sam fell to the floor, Nadine kicked the gun out of his hand. 

Another kick went into his chest and he groaned and dropped back to the ground. 

Nathan charged and tackled her. 

Nadine turned at the last minute and grabbed Nate’s arm and pinned her hand behind his shoulder. Using his momentum against him, she redirected Nate’s blind charge and launched him through the picture window, shattering the glass. 

Nate heard Sam shout his name as he tumbled off the roof. For a heartstopping moment felt himself go weightless as he fell into empty space. Then he hit the marble balcony below with a heavy thud. 

He laid there limply as his brain started an automatic survey of the damage. Against the night sky he could see the roof he had fallen from as a sharp overhang more than ten feet above him.

Sam’s voice called out anxiously, “Nate? Are you okay? Nathan!”

Nate rolled to his side and staggered to his feet.

“I’m fine, Sam,” Nate groaned. “But there’s no way back up to you.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said, obvious relief in his voice. “We’ll figure something out.” 

Through the gaps between the buildings, Nate could see the brightly lit archway of the main gates and in front of them the large oval-shaped driveway where Sully was supposed to meet them. It was choked with cars as people frantically tried to leave. Beyond the gardens, Nate could see the faint line of a service road that led off to the side, away from the traffic and towards the highway.

Nate touched his earpiece. “Sully, change of plans. The main drive is jammed. Head to the service road that runs behind the gardens. We’ll meet you there.”

Nate looked up at Sam. His brother nodded. “I heard, Nate. I’ll go around and meet you down there."

“Okay,” Nate said. “Be careful.”

“When am I not?”

Numerous examples came to Nate’s mind but this didn’t seem like the time to voice them. 

A heavy oak door connected the balcony to the main building but it was locked from the inside. He looked around. There was only one other way off the balcony. Nate sighed and took a running leap off the railing. 

He crashed onto the roof on the other side of the gap and started running along the gently sloping tiles toward the gardens. He prayed that Sully would be there with the car by the time they got there.

He got to the edge of the building and could see the tops of the hedges that lined the gardens, still a couple roofs away. He heard voices below him and crouched low against a wall. 

He peered over the edge and saw two guards with flashlight-mounted guns guarding the doorway that led out of the ballroom. There were doubtless more guards inside and Nate hoped Sam hadn’t tried to go through that way. 

He heard a sharp pst and looked up. Sam waved at him from the roof above.

Nate took a step back and looked at the wall. The rich stonework that adorned the windows provided a patchwork ladder all the way up the wall to the roof where Sam was crouched. 

Nate smirked. Thank god for rich people and their decorative architecture.

He took a hold of the lowest ledge and pulled himself up on the windowsill. He was about halfway up the wall and had just grabbed onto the beam at the top of the next window when he heard shouts of surprise behind him and the crack of gunshots. He flinched as bullets chipped the plaster a few inches away from his hand.

“Sam!” Nate shouted.

Sam answered with shots of his own and the guards yelled and dove for cover. Nate scrambled for the next ledge. Sam was doing his best to provide cover but he had a limited amount of ammo and Nate was completely exposed on the side of the wall. 

Sam let off another shot in the direction of the guards and then laid down and reached out to grab Nate’s hand. 

Nate leapt up and caught his brother’s grasp and was suddenly hit with a sickening surge of deja vu as he hung from Sam’s grip off the edge of the building with the guards shouting beneath him. 

But this time Sam pulled him to safety. 

They slipped over the edge of the tapered roof, putting the solid building between them and the guards’ bullets.

They worked their way down the rooftops towards the garden and dropped to the path below. The hedges of the garden shielded the service road from view but Nate knew they had to be close.

Sully’s voice crackled over the radio. “Kid, I’m in position. Where are you?”

Nate was about to answer when he suddenly grabbed Sam and pulled him behind a hedge. Footsteps pounded on the walkway as a guard ran forward, his gun raised. He paused, shouting a warning into the darkness.

Another voice answered him from somewhere nearby.

The guard moved forward, his flashlight sweeping across the empty path. He muttered something, his eyes scanning the darkness.

A loose stone clattered down the steps and the guard turned suddenly in its direction.  

“Qui!” he shouted and ran down the steps gun raised. 

A few seconds later the other guard appeared, running down the stairs after him.

Nate peered around the hedge and breathed a sigh of relief. “All clear.”

“That was pretty clever,” Sam whispered. 

“That’s what happens when you stop shooting and think for a second.”

“Yeah alright, smartass,” Sam snorted. “Come on, little brother. Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter Text

Nate had never known the real names of any of the guards, so he gave them all nicknames instead. It was a mild amusement to pass the time in the endless darkness of solitary confinement.

Nate listened to the overweight, shuffling footsteps that approached his cell and knew it was Toothpick before he opened the door. Nate squinted painfully in the sudden light as the door swung open.

The guard leaned against the doorway, the toothpick hanging loosely out his mouth as he smiled. “What? No requests today?” 

Nate didn’t look at him.

“No, ‘Let me make a phone call?’, ‘I need to speak with my brother?’, ‘I have rights?’” Toothpick glanced at the tall guard next to him and laughed. “That last one was always my favorite.”

Nate glared at the floor darkly but didn’t say anything. 

“What? You giving me the silent treatment now?” 

Toothpick shifted suddenly as a thought occurred to him. He frowned. “No one cut out your tongue, did they?” To his credit, he seemed genuinely concerned.

Nate stuck out his tongue before his better judgment recommended otherwise. Toothpick smiled and slipped his baton out of his belt. Nate flinched back involuntarily but the second guard stepped forward and put a hand on Toothpick’s shoulder. 

Toothpick rolled his eyes and turned back to Nate with a glare. Nate blinked at the other guard, trying to keep his face unreadable.

“Come on, malparido, stand up,” Toothpick growled. He hefted the baton in his hand for emphasis. 

Nathan stood up uncertainly and glanced again at the guard behind Toothpick. His eyes followed Nathan with a cool, unemotional gaze.

Toothpick handcuffed Nate and the two guards escorted him to a new room. 

Nate winced as Toothpick wrenched his wrists in the handcuffs before unlocking them and shoving him forward into the empty room, dirty and bare. It reeked of shit and vomit and there was a suspicious, dark stain running down the wall and onto the floor. 

Nate tried to convince himself that was better than solitary confinement, at least.

He turned around in time to see Toothpick’s head jerk sideways suddenly. The big man fell to the ground with a limp thud. The tall guard considered the bloody baton in his hand and looked up at Nathan. They were alone.

“I don’t think you’re a real guard,” Nathan said.

The guard looked at him carefully. Then he drew his gun. 

“What gave me away?”

“All the guards around here are fat. And they stink.”

The guard stared at him and then smirked and shook his head. He turned the gun around and offered it to Nathan. 

“You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”

Nathan nodded, his eyes smarting. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

He rushed forward and Sam’s strong arms pulled him into a tight embrace. 

“Hey, little brother,” Sam said. “Sorry about the wait.”

Nate laughed despite the burning behind his eyes. “What took you so long?”

Sam smiled. “It’s a long story.”

Nate laughed. “Yeah. It starts with you being an idiot and leaving me behind.”

A pained look crossed Sam’s face. “Nathan, I-”

Nathan shook his head. “Sorry. That was an awful thing to say.”

“I thought you were dead,” Sam whispered.

“I know.” Nate smiled and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

The crack of machine gun fire sounded behind him. 

Sam’s eyes widened. “Nathan?”

Nate was confused and looked down numbly and saw the red stains blossoming through his shirt. He looked at Sam and tried to smile. Sam was yelling something but he couldn’t hear.

His bloody fingers slipped through Sam’s hand and he fell…

Nate jerked awake in a cold sweat. His hands were shaking violently as he clawed at his chest and stared at the pale, faded scars. 

A shadow moved towards him in the darkness and he flinched away.

“It’s okay, kid,” Sully said. “You’re okay.”

Nate looked around, disoriented, as the walls of the cell turned into the wood paneling of their motel room. He looked at Sully and saw the old man watching him.

“I’m okay, Sully. Just a bad dream.” Nate smiled and hid his trembling hands.

Sully nodded. “Want something to drink?”

Nate shook his head. He looked around and saw that the sky outside the windows was still dark.

“What time is it?” Nate asked.

“Late. Or early, technically.”

“Why are you awake?”

Sully shrugged. “It’s been a while since I’ve tried to fall asleep sober. And uh,” he glanced sideways at Nate, “I was kind of afraid that if I fell asleep I’d wake up and realize this was all a dream.”

“I know the feeling,” Nate said. “I keep expecting to wake back up in that cell.”

Sam groaned from the couch where he had been sleeping and wearily turned on the lamp. He looked blearily from the alarm clock to Nate and Sully. He buried his face in his pillow.

“It’s four in the morning. Why are y’all talking?”

Sully glanced at Nate who shook his head urgently. 

“Just figuring out our next move,” Sully said.

Sam lifted his head and blinked at them heavily. “At four in the morning? Can’t it wait?”

“You can sleep when you’re dead,” Sully said. “We’re on a clock here, in case you forgot.”

With effort, Sam pulled himself into an upright position and yawned. “Fine. But one of you owes me coffee.”

Nate got up and went to the table where the newly broken Saint Dismas cross lay in pieces beside the parchment that had been hidden within the hollow cross. The ink was faded but still clearly showed a detailed illustration of an ornate cross. 

Above it, in a smooth, flowing script was a Latin passage: Hodie mecum eris in Paradiso.

Below were the numbers 16591699.

“Hodie mecum eris in Paradiso.” Nate translated, “Today you will join me in Paradise.”

Sam waved his hand, “It’s what Jesus said to Saint Dismas on the cross.”

“Right. But I’ve been thinking. These numbers, I think they’re dates. 1659 is the year Avery was born.”

Sam leaned forward, shaking off the lure of sleep. “And the other set: 1699...” He looked up at Nate, realization dawning.

Sully looked between them. “Let me guess. The year he died?”

Sam shook his head, “By some accounts, but nobody really knows for sure. He sort of fell off the map.”

Sully shrugged. “Seems fitting for a pirate.”

Nate pointed at the parchment again, “Yeah but the illustrations on the paper are symbols you’d find a Scottish gravestone. I think we’re looking for Avery’s grave.” He looked at Sam. “The Saint Dismas cathedral in Scotland.”

Sam sighed, “No good. After we escaped, Rafe took his parents’ fortune and bought up all the land around the Saint Dismas cathedral. We combed that place for months. Avery’s treasure isn’t there.” He shook his head. “Not that that’s stopped Rafe. Moron’s been digging for years. Still hasn’t turned up a damn thing.”

Nate grinned. “Yeah, but he was looking in the wrong place.” He pointed to the map. “The graveyard’s not near the cathedral. It’s way over here, on the other side of the island.” 

He pointed at the map. Sam and Sully leaned in and stared at it. 

Sam grinned. “Guess we’re going to Scotland.”

“Hold it,” Sully said. “You said Nadine saw you. Won’t Rafe know you’re coming?”

Sam shrugged. “We’ll deal with that when we get there.”

Sully glared at him. “You sure? You don’t especially have a great track record when it comes to winging it.”

Sam’s face darkened. “Rafe doesn’t have this,” he pointed to the illustration. “Sullivan, this is the greatest pirate treasure of all time. It’s worth a little risk.”

“I thought this was about saving Nathan.”

“It is.” Sam looked at Nate. “But it’s both right? I mean, we need the treasure to pay off Alcázar. This is the only way.”

Sully looked at Nathan.

Nathan nodded. “It’s the only way, Sully. We’ll be careful. We know what we’re looking for and we have the map. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Like hell,” Sully said. “No way am I staying behind. Rafe would love nothing more than for you two to show up and lead him to the treasure. And the island is crawling with Nadine and her army to back him up. If anything goes wrong, you two will need a fast getaway. And out of the three of us, I’m the only one with a plane.” He leaned back in his chair. “Besides, I hear the weather in Scotland is particularly fine this time of year.”