"Men often oppose a thing merely because they have had no agency in planning it, or because it may have been planned by those whom they dislike."
-Alexander Hamilton
When Washington came to, the first thing he noticed was the brightness of the light in front of him. The second thing he noticed was that he couldn't move to avoid the light; something was holding him firmly to the chair in front of him.
"I'm sorry for having to use your friend against you like that,” Adam Weishaupt said from somewhere in the great light.
"Weishaupt!” Washington exclaimed. “You bastard! How'd you get my kid involved with your ill scheme?"
"No no, it's nothing lack that,” Weishaupt calmly reassured. “You see, I am Alexander's superior officer. Slugging you was merely his assignment."
Washington took a few breaths. He was worked up, ready to fight Weishaupt bare-handed if he had to... but he had no way to loose himself from the chair. He whirred his head around to make use of the range of vision that was allowed him. Nothing but darkness and the contrasting blinding light, he saw.
"Don't you want to know what we're doing here?” Weishaupt asked, with the glee of one confronting a cornered prey.
Washington made a weak attempt at a nonchalant shrug. “I'm more interested in what I'm doing here. Last time we met you said you wanted to kill me."
"All in due time...” Weishaupt said. “Do you know where your friends are, Mr. Washington?"
Washington shook his head, then startled himself with a thought, “The President!” he blurted out.
"Oh don't worry,” Weishaupt said, “Thanks to your bumbling, Mr. Lincoln is safe and sound. For now at least. There's more than one way to skin a cat.” Weishaupt was slightly pleased with himself for making the appropriate American analogy.
"But your friends, Mr. Washington, they equally disposed right now.” Washington heard the squeek of a chair being pulled up nearby. Weishaupt's voice became closer. “You see,” he continued, “right after your encounter with the good Mr. Hamilton, your friends emerged from their hiding places to help you. Just as I knew they would."
Weishaupt paused to allow the realization to sink in. Then he went on.
"We've been following you, Mr. Washington. And we will keep following you. For now, I am amused enough to watch you fail. When you cease to amuse me I will kill you."
Washington was confused. “So... you're going to let me go?"
Weishaupt laughed. “Nothing nearly so simple, Mr. Washington. No, I will not let you or your friends go. But I will give you a fighting chance.” Weishaupt pulled the light back a few feet. Washington could see his gun laying on a table in front of him, and beyond the table Weishaupt. “Your weapon is a rather beautiful thing, Mr. Washington,” lifting it up from the table and manipulating it, “but rather notoriously difficult to reload...” Weishaupt said the last word with a grunt, as he expelled the bullet and powder from the weapon. “Your weapon is now nothing more than a fancy, gold-inlaid club. Not very useful now..."
Washington could tell Weishaupt was enjoying this, toying with his prey before he made the final kill. Washington knew this posturing well, knew that Weishaupt was sufficiently absorbed in his own vanity to possibly make a mistake that would allow Washington to turn the tables.
"Now don't get any ideas, Mr. Washington,” Weishaupt said, “I know how you think, you know. You and I, we aren't so different. Well no, actually we are completely different... But I still know how you think! Before you get any bright ideas remember that you are strapped to a chair and I have a gun. And if that is not sufficient disuasion, there are more men with guns on the other side of the door behind me."
Weishaupt scowled, realizing the mistake he just made, informing Washington where the door was. He pressed on, determined not to let the slip affect him, “Washington, I'm going to give you a choice. Since you are all doomed to die anyway, I'm going to give you the choice of deciding which of your friends I will do in first.” Weishaupt reached down for his weapon to illustrate the point, and realized quickly that his weapon was gone.
"Are you looking for this?” Washington asked, pointing the gun square at Weishaupt, completely free of his bonds.
"How the hell did you do that?!” Weishaupt said astonished. “No, don't tell me, I'll just feel stupid."
Washington shrugged. “No mistakes this time, Weishaupt. I'm going to kill you before you do any more damage."
Just then the door burst open. “Washington!” Jefferson's voice called out from the end of the room.
Weishaupt took advantage of the moment's distraction to send the lamp to the floor. All light in the room vanished. Astonished, Washington dropped his gun. “You idiots!” he yelled, “I had him doing the 'toying with the prey' thing!” Washington dropped to the floor to find the weapon. He felt around but nothing. Soon another light came into the room from the door. Franklin carefully held a candle, revealing the entirety of the large interrogation room. Weishaupt was nowhere to be found.
"Where did he go?!” Washington yelled. Jefferson brandished his weapon, carefully scanning the empty room.
"Damnit!” Washington said, banging his hand on the table.
"Cool down, George,” Jefferson said. “We have to go. There's much more to do now."
"But, Weishaupt! He has a time machine?!"
"He has OUR time machine."
"Oh, shit."