Red Line: Destination Nepal

Joe Brody

Well-known member
roundshort said:
You know I love the idea of Indy teaming up with the jarheads, have to be careful they might make Indy look bad!

hoo-rah!

Then I thought this line would have gotten a reaction:

From Chapter 5 said:
The Captain nodded, took a long drag on his cigarette as he eyed the battered Indy. ?Don?t try and tell me that one of my boys did that to you.?
 

roundshort

Active member
That seemed too easy, come on Marines to kick people when they are down, they help them up, then knock 'em down again!

The USMC never really had a chance to but heads with Nazis, so this is interesting to see what peace time jarheads woudl make of a nazi . . .
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
Chapter 5 (continued)

* * *

Nora poured steaming hot water into a small teapot that rested in a large bowl. She kept pouring well after the water spilled over. Seated beside Nora, Gwen Grieves looked skeptical but remained silent. Nora went about the ritual deftly, explaining the importance of steeping the tea for less than a minute. On the far side of the Philippine Clipper?s lounge a weary and hurt Indiana Jones sat watching, impressed with both Nora?s knowledge and the way she ? with help from Andy ? had hobbled together a more-than-satisfactory makeshift Chinese tea set. With the tea almost ready, Gwen bolted to get Madam Sinn. To the cabin at large, Nora said, ?I know it?s almost time for dinner but does anyone want tea??

Lucien Lake sat with his back to Nora, engaged in a card game with Reverend Andrews. Concentrating on his cards Lake responded simply by signaling Andy for a refill by raising his empty gin glass above his shoulder and giving it a wiggle. Stymied by his half drunk opponent, the good Reverend did not even look up from his cards. The elder Grieves remained buried in a four-day old Manila newspaper.

Gwen returned leading the way for Madam Sinn and her shadow, Yang. Looking up from her preparations, Nora asked, "Madam Sinn, will your other companions be joining us?"

Yang leaned forward. "The men are sleeping. They are not to be disturbed."

Both Yang and Sinn joined Nora and went about inspecting and smelling the actual tealeaves. With a sure fluid motion Nora filled several shot-glass-turned-sniffing cups in one continuous pour. After the initial tasting, Nora shot a smile at Indy after Madam Sinn correctly identified the tea and complemented Nora?s good taste. Yang too acknowledged that the tea was superior -- and was surprised to hear that Nora had purchased such fine tea in San Francisco.

?We can use my set for the remainder of the trip," said Madam Sinn as she turned to Gwen. "It is good that you are learning about tea if you are to be living in Manila.?

From behind his paper, Grieves said, "That's just the half of it. As aviation expands I expect that we'll be traveling all across Asia in the coming years."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "I especially like the flying . . . "

Nora poured the second pot into the cups. "Gwen, it looks like Mr. Jones could use some tea. Could you take him some?"

Grieves lowered his paper. "Gwen. Keep your distance from Mr. Jones. He's not the sort that I would have you associating."

Hearing this, Andy bristled as he served Lake's gin. He extended his tray toward Gwen and asked, "May I?"

Gwen placed the cup on the tray. "Miss Grieves," said Andy as he crossed the cabin. "Let me tell you a story about Indiana Jones."

Indy raised the cup and took a feeble sip. Grieves snorted and raised his paper with a sharp crack.

"Years back I was a steward on the Golden State going from Chicago to Los Angeles. A bit past Rock Island I notice this skinny young man -- traveling with only a satchel -- not eating anything and not going to the dining car. So I corner him -- and sure enough he doesn't have enough money for food. Turns out the only things he's got is a ticket, a brand new diploma from the University of Chicago and a plan to spend a couple of weeks out in the desert exploring some Indian ruins he never got to as a boy."

Andy turned away from Gwen and looked back at Indy who sat unmoving with his tea, slouched down in his seat looking out the window of the plane. "You see this young man had plans and he wasn't going to let the lack of money stop him."

From behind his paper, Grieves said, "This story sounds awfully familiar."

For the first time during the entire flight, Indy showed some sign of life. "And just how did you manage to get us clear of Midway this afternoon?"

Grieves remained silent. Ignoring the exchange, Andy continued. "All Indiana had was a knife, a lighter and an old hat . . . no way was he ready to go into the desert. So I spent every free minute over the next couple of days -- through Des Moines and Topeka -- gathering some food for him and stitching together a pack out of some old tarp and leather lashings."

Indy looked over at Andy. "I still have that pack somewhere."

"Well my hand hurt like Hell," Andy continued. "But the pack was finished by the time we got to El Paso -- where Indy was fixing to get off and take a spur northwest toward the Apache Trail. We're not in the station ten minutes before he corners me saying that he has to stay on the train -- that he had recognized a group of thugs boarding cargo and he knew that they were up to no good."

"Have some tea?" said Nora.

Andy shook his head, cleared his throat and continued. "Spend enough time on a train and pretty soon you hear every lame excuse there is from people looking for a free ride but Indy got the benefit of the doubt because of the stories he had told me on the way down from Chicago. So I called in a favor and when the Conductor came looking for tickets he looked the other way, then I get Indy to point these guys out to me. There were three of them -- a big Indian-looking fella, a heavyset guy with a walrus mustache, and a scroungy mean looking red-headed kid in his early twenties."

"Were they train robbers?" asked Gwen.

"I didn't know what they were up to, but I could see they were trouble. They were all filthy -- like they'd been out in the desert for months -- and the first thing they did was to hit the bottle hard. We were steaming across a big span of desert so Indy wanted to act fast and see what cargo they had loaded onto the train. We headed back into the freight car, found a crowbar and went to work on one of the crates that Indy saw being loaded on to the train."

Andy paused to step aside to let the Clipper's radioman pass through the cabin to go aft to release the plane's antenna for a radio broadcast.

[I?ve got some acknowledgements on this entry. First, I?d like to thank everyone that responded on the Indy Fact Check Thread. And I also have to thank Westford and Minnesota Jones for helping me last year (or earlier this year) track down the Golden State as an accurate Chicago-to-LA train. As it turns out, out of the three such lines the Golden State was the cheapest and would have been the one most likely taken by a young penniless college student.]
 
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roundshort

Active member
There is a twist I didn't see coming. Always nice to get some well written Indy Background. don't stray too far though
 

roundshort

Active member
I was just rereading, and I am sure that you really don't any ideas, "Critics and new material I don't need" James Bond, whichever one was in Vegas, anyhow,
I always thought it woudl be cool if Indy caught up with Fedora, who was a big influence on him, and saw learnet that Arch. was a pure thing, but some times you need to be financed, hence leading Indy up the hired gun he is in the movies. Just a thought, as always great stories
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
roundshort said:
So, how deep in this sub story line do you plan to go?

It's really just a vignette. Andy Solemn's Golden State story is meant serve a couple of purposes: (i) solidify the Indy/Solemn relationship in the reader's mind, (ii) give the reader a short break from the on-the-plane/off-the-plane cycle I've created, (iii) give some very indirect background for events that will unfold in the next couple of chapters, and (iv) resolve (in some fashion and to a certain degree) a loose end from Last Crusade (I don't like loose ends in the films and its fun to pick ou those threads and try to make something new). The Golden State story will have no direct bearing on the events on the Clipper -- and none of the characters from the Golden State will show-up in this story. My problem right now is that any good vignette is supposed to be characterized with 'delicacy, wit and subtlety' (Websters) and I'm no where near that now -- I just hope to get something written that's serviceable.

A final word on loose-ends, the Pan Am Clipper only goes as far as Manila -- which means that the focus of the story (and Indy's companions) will change significantly with Indy only half way to the Raven. In essence that means that Red Line: Destination Nepal will eventually be a story in two parts: the first part being the journey on the Clipper and the second part that has yet to unfold. Pan Am didn't fly to Nepal, and right now we know that Indy has tickets (obtained by Art Weber) on Britain's Imperial Airlines. We'll have to see how this second stage unfolds. I'll just say this, a certain Shanghai gangster is going to have a MAJOR role in the second half.
 
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roundshort

Active member
Wow, I did not know that . . .
Hmmm, what am I reminded off "It's hard to live with a price on your head . ." or some quote from Empire. was that on Hoth?
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
[End of] Chapter 5


?Just as we're ripping into a crate with the crowbar, the baggage man and the Conductor enter the car. The Conductor lights into to me, and the baggage man -- well, he took the trespass into his car pretty personal -- so he jumped Indy and let fly. Indy got a pretty good beating . . . .?

At this Lake chuckled. ?Yes this is starting to sound familiar. . . .?

?. . . . but Indy sucked it up and actually started to hold his own against that big mean Irish son-of-a-***** baggage man. The Conductor ended it by taking a cheap shot that put Indy down. All hot, the Conductor said ?Now what the Hell is going on here?? Indy pointed at the crate and claimed it held stolen artifacts. The Conductor peeked inside and whistled ? he reached into the packing and pulled out a hand painted Mexican clay vase. Problem was it was brand new, cheap junk. The conductor pointed at Indy and said 'No Ticket' and told the baggage man to tie up Indy till the next stop. The Conductor then sent me back to work, saying that if I?m lucky I?ll get to keep my job.?

Andy blackened at the thought of the Conductor?s rebuke. "Mad-as-heck at Indy, I left with my tail between my legs. Later on, I'm working in the dining car and Indy -- still bound -- comes hoping in from the baggage car holding a sack. The sack is stitched closed and inscribed 'The Presidio Mining Company'. Indy -- with this big 'ole wolfish grin -- said 'It was hidden in one of the jars.' It was filled with gold dust. So we go back into the baggage car where the baggage man is sprawled out across the floor. Indy had head-butted the baggage man, knocked him out cold. I cut the bonds to Indy?s feet . . . but the three thugs came busting in. The Conductor had gone and told them that someone had tried to break into one of their crates.

"Indy did not hesitate. He hurled the sack straight into the red-headed punk's gut and then squared off against the other two. Me? I'm no fighter, so I just stand there. The big Indian pulled out a wicked long knife and the guy with the walrus mustache grabbed a plank. Still bound at his writs, Indy took my knife and . . . ."

Grieves lowered his paper in a huff. "Shouldn't you be setting up for dinner?"

Andy stiffened and headed toward the Galley. "Right you are, sir."

"Dad!? said an exasperated Gwen Grieves. ?He was nearly finished."

"Well there wasn't really much more to tell," said Indy as he climbed to his feet. "Bottom line, I was young and blundering. I had messed with that gang once before and I jumped to conclusions when I saw them in El Paso. I'm only standing here today because I got lucky . . . . and I got some help from the man that's making our dinner." With that Indy walked out of the cabin, thanking Gwen for the tea as he headed back into the passenger compartment.

Indy settled into a seat and stared at his reflection in the window. It was late afternoon and the sky was a deep dark blue ? and there were still some time before the plane touched down in Wake Island. What should have been a relatively short eight hour flight had been pushed back due to the delayed departure from Midway. Indy studied his jaw, which was red and swollen from the beatings he had taken over the last two nights. He reached for his fedora to take a nap when he noticed Gwen Grieves settled into a seat across the aisle. On her lap she had a white canvas Pan American shoulder bag. On top of the bag were several irregular blue-glass orbs.

Curious, Indy asked, ?What do you got there??

Gwen looked up. ?Oh, these are glass floats the Japanese use for their fishing nets. My dad and I found them on the beach in Midway. The current carries them all the way from Japan. My Dad says they are good luck. You want one??

Indy chuckled, touched his sore jaw. ?Gwen, I could sure use it ? but at the rate I?m going it would be broke by morning.?

Indy perched his fedora low on his brow and settled into sleep.

Indy awoke with a start. Passengers -- from both the rear sleeping compartment and the passenger cabin -- moved forward toward the lounge, where the stewards appeared to be in the middle of breaking down the dinner seating. Indy caught strains of anxious questions ?did we hit something??, ?did an engine stall??, and ?what?s wrong?? Aside from the confusion among the passengers, Indy noted that the flight remained smooth, the drone from the engines constant. As Grieves -- with one hand on Gwen?s shoulder -- sought to calm the group, he kept one eye toward the front of the plane. In seconds one of the pilots made his way aft.

?Are all passengers accounted for and O.K.?? asked the pilot.

Standing on his toes, Grieves counted the crowd. ?All passengers are here. . . . and all non-flight staff as well.?

"Should we radio Midway?" asked the pilot.

"Now why would we do that?" snapped Grieves.

"Because on Midway you promised to contact Captain Yorick if any suspicious happened en route to Manila."

"And what exactly did happen?" said an exasperated Grieves.

"I can't say,? said the pilot. ?But there's a chance someone just jettisoned something from the afterhatch that hit the tail -- something fairly heavy."

Grieves said, "I refuse to believe that. That thud could have been anything. . ."

"Even at eight thousand feet?" ventured Indiana Jones.

The pilot looked back over his shoulder at another member of the flight crew who had come up behind him. "Ricketts, what do you think?"

The First Engineer, wearing a heavy fur-lined flying suit that looked more like a costume from a Flash Gordon film that a uniform for a flight over the Pacific, spoke up loud enough so that Grieves could hear. "I was strapped in the Throne Room and -- and from the sound of the 'thud' it sure sounded like an impact on the tail to me. I've checked all instruments and gauges and we're running tip-top."

"That's what's important," said Grieves. "I'm not about to risk every person on this plane being detained indefinitely by some paranoid Marine because of some mystery thud. So since the plane appears to be fine, I suggest that everyone get back to stations and get this plane to Wake Island."

The pilot shifted on this feet, ?I don?t know Mr. Grieves, I think we should. . . .?

From out of nowhere, Richter interrupted, "Madam Sinn has two trunks stowed in the sleeping compartment."

Yang moved beside Grieves, "The same two trunks that were loaded in the cabin for the flight from Pearl. Surely, Mr. Grieves you appreciate the need for Madam Sinn to maintain her appearance and to have access to her wardrobe?"

"Mr. Richter," said the pilot. ?What are you suggesting?"

"Those trunks could hold an object big enough to cause the impact in question. No other passenger had access to such large containers."

?And why would anyone want to jettison something mid-flight??

Richter leveled his cool grey eyes on Grieves. Condescension cut through his accent. ?Obviously, to keep the object from being found in case the plane was later searched.?

"What interesting speculation," said Grieves. "Captain, do you intend to search the whole plane? Or -- late as we are ? do you plan on turning around and looking for something floating on the surface?"

The pilot scanned the crowd. Madam Sinn looked expressionless but held the pilot?s gaze. Finally, Yang said, ?Captain, you may search Madam?s Sinn?s luggage if it will ease your concerns.?

A red-faced Grieves glared at air crew. The pilot hesitated. ?No, that will not be necessary.?

The pilot turned to the engineer. ?We?re about an hour from Wake. Have a radio check done and we?ll check out the tail when we land.?


<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Still not all that happy with the vignette but I sat on it for a few days and it will have to do.

roundshort said:
Wow, I did not know that . . .
Hmmm, what am I reminded off "It's hard to live with a price on your head . ." or some quote from Empire. was that on Hoth?

Well, we'll just have to wait and see how this unfolds. And yes, the quote is from the Rebel Command to Solo in the Hanger Bay in Hoth.
 

roundshort

Active member
A very nice little trip dow memory lane, with Indy showing the proper humbleness, like at the dinner scence in ToD, I really think everyone needs to watch ToD as it really gives us the most about Indy's chacter.
can't wait to read more
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
Beginnning of Chapter 6

Indiana Jones emerged from the forward hatch of the Philippine Clipper and joined the other passengers on a barge moored to a long, newly constructed pier that extended well over a hundred yards from the western shore of Wake Island. A young Chinese boy made his way among the passengers offering cigarettes from a tray that was almost as wide as he was tall. It was a perfect late evening so passengers lingered on the wharf, smoking and looking up at the rear of the plane where Grieves stood with several members of the crew inspecting the tail for signs of damage. After taking a quick look up at the seemingly undamaged aircraft, Indiana Jones searched out Andy Solemn who he found leaning against a railing on the far side of the barge away from the crowd.

Andy lit a cigarette and blew smoke away up to his right. ?Us stewards are supposed to wait for the passengers to leave before we catch a smoke, but I?m in no mood for following rules after dealing with Grieves.?

Indy chuckled at the ornery old steward. ?Andy, I need you to do me a couple favors.?

Andy straightened up. ?Sure thing Doctor Jones.?

?I need you to send these cables for me.? Indy handed some cash and a sheet of paper to Solemn ? and in doing so Indy shifted to block the exchange from the view of the group behind him. From under the brim of his fedora, he cast a skeptical eye back toward his fellow passengers.

Scanning the cables, Andy read under his breadth with the cigarette hanging from his mouth. ?Art Weber, Dispatch Shanghai Airport, ?Cable received, GFUC? ? and the second to Marcus Brody, National Museum, Washington, ?GFUC?.? Andy looked up. ?Indy, they may not want to send these if they think the cables are coded . . . especially after last night.?

Indy nodded. ?I know, you may be right -- if you have a problem get Grieves, he?ll force the issue and see that the cables are sent.? Indy hesitated and then pulled a pocket calendar from his breast pocket and said, ?On second thought, have the Marcus Brody cable sent to the Union Preservation Club in New York City.?

Andy took a pen from his pocket and added the second address. ?Got it. Not that it?s any of my business, but what does ?GFUC? stand for??

?It?s a simple instruction: going forward use code,? replied Indy with a wry grin. ?Straight-up, I?ve got a bad feeling about this flight ? and I?ve got to start being a Hell-of-a-lot more careful than I?ve been so far.?

?Well at least it?s not obscene,? chuckled Andy. ?If things are getting serious, when are you going to explain all these crazy goings-on and how you?re involved??

Indy turned serious. ?Believe me, if you thought I jumped to conclusions on the Golden State, you ain?t seen nothing yet. Right now, there are a lot of loose threads that don?t make sense ? nothing fits together -- but enough has happened for me to believe that things are not going to end well.?

?Not end well how?? asked Andy as he took a deep drag on his cigarette.

?I think there?s a chance we don?t reach Manila ? which brings me to my next favor. I want you to get sick and not continue on with the flight.?

?Well if things are as bad as you say, then you need me on the Clipper.?

Indy put his hand on Andy?s shoulder. ?I?ll manage it.?

Andy again exhaled up to his right. ?But you think we?re heading toward big trouble before we reach Manila??

?That?s right.?

?And you just happen to be on this flight on separate business??

Indy nodded. ?Important separate business ? but I?m beginning to think that my being on the flight is making matters worse.?

?Can it ever be any other way?? Andy smiled. ?Well then that settles it Dr. Jones, you need someone to watch your back. Traveling with you is better than watching a Charlie Chan film.?

Perplexed, Indy said, ?Except Charlie Chan doesn?t get the Hell beat out of him every night. Andy this is serious business. People are already dead and things are just going to get worst.?

?This discussion is over, Dr. Jones. I?ll see to getting your cables away as soon as I finish my clean-up.?

Andy pulled back, tossed his cigarette off into the lagoon and ducked away into the Clipper. Indy crossed the barge and climbed the ramp up to the pier. At the end of the pier, Lake and Nora stood under the lighted signature station sign. At each Clipper stop, every pier was fronted by a two-sided sign that gave the name of the station, the station?s latitude and longitude, and the names of the next Clipper stop in both directions with the miles to each destination.

?Dr. Jones what say you to a little nocturnal adventure?? asked an animated Lucien Lake.

Indy cocked his head, as he crossed under the Wake Island sign and was joined by Lake and Nora as he headed toward the system hotel. ?Is it legal??

Nora laughed. ?Legal yes ? but humane? You?ll have to decide that for yourself.?

Indy looked puzzled. ?The way this trip is unfolding, I think I should be sticking to the straight and narrow.?

?Perhaps more than you know,? said Nora. ?Grieves is saying some pretty uncharitable things about you and if you?re not careful you may get implicated in the Cable Station murders.?

Indy stopped short. ?I?ll can handle Grieves ? there?s no connection between unpaid bills and murder . . . but in the meantime, what do you two have planned for a beautiful night on Wake Island??

Lake slapped Indy on the back. ?Well first we need provisions. I?ll see to the critical items . . . .?

?Meaning liquor,? interrupted Nora.

?Yes, meaning liquor, of course,? continued Lake, ?And Ms. Crowe here will see about procuring the necessary ordnance for our little adventure.?

Again Indy stopped short. ?Ordnance? Just what do you two have in mind??


* * *
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
Chapter 6 Continued (and possibly one of the more bizarre scenes in Indy fan fiction):

Nora patiently kept her rifle fixed as she waited for her target to move back into the light. Indiana Jones noted her steady breathing, solid grip and the stock nested firm against her shoulder. He looked up and saw that she had been right to wait. Her target moved from behind the tree and into the light from the tennis court. Nora took another breath and as she exhaled she exerted pressure on the trigger. The shot rang out, causing Lucien Lake to jump and spill gin over his front.

?Agh, a spinal,? said Lake with distaste as the target flailed for a full four seconds and then went still in the sand.

Nora handed the rifle to Indiana. He pulled back the bolt and reloaded. ?Will the miracles ever cease -- you can shoot too.?

?Now let?s see what you can do,? replied Nora as she leaned back against the railing. The three stood on a broad staircase landing, twelve feet off the ground on one of the three water towers that added much needed elevation to Pan American?s expansive Wake Island Compound. Indiana scanned the dark ground for a target and finally settled on a shadowy form darting from bush to bush way out beyond the tennis courts. He aimed and squeezed off a quick shot. The shadow went still. Indiana shot a cocky grin at Nora and settled back to let Lake take a shot. The red-faced Lake fumbled with the bolt of his rifle causing Indy to lean over and relieve the drunken Southerner of the weapon. ?I think you should stick to your area of expertise.?

?Quite right,? said Grieves as he picked up his bottle. ?Pity I don?t get to enjoy the benefits of my labor.?

?You mean chumming the bushes?? laughed Nora as she took Lake?s rifle from Indy. ?I just hope that hamburger you spread doesn?t bring every rat on the island ? we only have two boxes of ammunition.?

?We?ll just have to make every shot count then,? said Indiana as he fired off another round from his single-shot bolt action .22 rifle that found home in another short-tailed Polynesian rat.

?I?m surprised that you have no qualms with shooting rats,? said Nora

?Are you kidding?? chuckled Indiana Jones. ?My father is a professor of medieval literature. As far as he?s concerned it was a rat that brought low Western Civilization and left it in the Dark Ages. This rat hunt is the first thing I?ve done on this trip that he would have approved of.?

Lake lowered his bottle. ?They say that a hungry rat will crawl into a baby?s crib looking for a meal.?

Nora hit another rat. ?At least the baby had a crib. When I was a baby my dad moved around so much that the only crib I ever had was a suitcase. He used to tell me I was destined to be a great adventurer because I slept in a suitcase.?

Indiana shifted his tender jaw. ?Right now I could do with a little less adventure.?

Nora looked up from reloading her weapon. ?I never thought about it, but I suppose that being an archeologist can be pretty rough. Say you?re hot the trail of some valuable artifact. I imagine there?s always someone out there looking to jump your claim or some competitor looking to beat you to the punch. Does much of that actually happen??

?Sure, some of that goes on,? said Indiana Jones as he quickly reloaded in response to the increasing number of rats moving toward the tower.

?Not too many King Tut?s tombs out there, I imagine,? said Lake.

?You could be followed or worse. . .? Nora trailed off and bagged a fast moving rat out beyond Indy?s furthest victim.

?Well you sure can?t always trust to luck,? smirked Indy, without even pausing to aim he casually raised his rifle with one hand and shot a rat at twenty yards near the base of the tower. ?You have to be sharp and plan for contingencies . . .for things that can and will go wrong.?

?Your ventures can take quite a bit of seed money?? questioned Lake.

?That?s one of the challenges. . . .? said Indy.

?And hence the unpaid bills?? said Lake as he took a deep swig.

?And hence the unpaid bills,? agreed Indiana.

Nora lowered her rifle and pointed toward a large shadowy mass moving in from the buildings. ?Don?t tell me that?s what I think it is.?

Indiana didn?t pause from firing at a mass of rats that had swarmed the hamburger. ?No whatever it is it?s moving too slow to be rats.?

?It?s like a moving blanket,? said Lake.

?First thing first,? said Nora as she took aim on the rat swarm below.

Indiana Jones and Nora Crowe kept on firing on the rats but their number swelled to well over a hundred rats milling about the base of the tower. Then the shadowy form broke onto the illuminated Tennis Courts. It was hundreds of crabs of varying sizes, crawling over one another making their way steadily to the base of the tower and rat swarm.

?What are they?? asked Nora as she reloaded.

Indiana Jones continued to pick off rats. ?Hermit crabs. They?re omnivores and they?ll eat what they can.?

The hermit crabs converged on the rat swarm. While some crabs engaged the rats, some went to work on the hamburger and rat carcasses.

?Well no one at the hotel said anything about shooting hermit crabs,? said Nora perplexedly.

?That?s right,? said Indiana Jones. He shot a last outlying rat and leaned back against the railing, resting the rifle on the rail. ?Pan Am only wants to clear this rat infestation off the island. I imagine Hermit crabs are the type of scavengers they can live with.?

Lake watched the melee below at the base of the tower. ?Well the battle is joined and it appears that we?re stuck here for the duration.?

?No matter what it?s going to be an interesting walk back to the hotel,? grinned Indy.

?No rush,? said Lake. ?Actually there?s something I wanted to take up with you two.? -- both Indy and Nora exchanged glances -- ?I don?t know if either of you have noticed but since we boarded in San Francisco Grieves has been very possessive of a large satchel that he usually keeps locked in a wall locker in the rear compartment of the Clipper by the steps to the afterhatch.?

Both Indy and Nora shook their heads.

?Imagine that the satchel contained a large ? very large in fact ? quantity of dollars and pounds.?

?Does this satchel in fact contain a large amount of cash?? asked Indy.

Lake shrugged, looked uncomfortable for a moment then with a surprising sobriety said, ?Indeed it does. I lay my cards on the table. I?m the type that seizes an opportunity when one presents itself. I am now presenting that opportunity as a joint venture to be undertaken by the three of us.?

Indy looked hard at Lake. ?You didn?t happen to get curious about Madam Sinn?s trunks before the ?thud? on the flight into Wake??

Lake shook his head in disgust, like he had eaten something rotten. ?Heavens no ? movie-types never have any money . . .or anything else of value for that matter.?

?So why would Grieves have that kind of cash?? asked Indy.

?My guess is that it's bribe money,? said Nora. ?Both Grieves and Gwen have talked about how his real job is not just managing the Manila operations but to get landing rights for Pan Am in other cities. Out in the Orient, that will involve a lot of upfront payoff money to grease the skids just to get in front of the right people.?

?A reasonable explanation consistent with my own experience in the Orient,? said Grieves. He took another swig.

?I don?t like it,? said Nora. ?So much has happened so far on this flight ? Madam Sinn?s kidnapping, the murders on Midway ? why would you look to pull a job now??

Lake smiled and nodded his head. ?That?s it precisely. Doubtless there are schemes and any number of our odd little party engaged in strange goings on ? but the important thing here is that Grieves and the airline personnel can only handle so much. They are distracted, and Grieves is barely keeping it together.?

Indiana had remained silent, watching Nora the whole time. He caught her eye. ?Just what do you think about the attempt to kidnap Madam Sinn??

Author's note (if anyone is still reading this). A large, stubborn rat infestation was actually cleared off Wake Island in 1938 and some early clipper passengers used air guns to shot rats. One shoot resulted in two members bagging 60 rats each. The hermit crab infestation is historically accurate as well. I confess to using some dramatic license in the use of the .22's and the speed of the hermit crab's appearance. When this is over, I intend to post a listing of my sources. I confess the rat shoot is odd, but its historically accurate and I note that Woody Allen's Sweet and Lowdown contains a rat shoot scene. I guess this scene is proof positive that I have no real commercial aspirations here. And finally, no rats were actually harmed in the writing of this entry.
 
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roundshort

Active member
Ugh, Joe that was a bit morbid, and a bit like Wildcat swap if you must know . . .
But you know as well as I do, time to get soem action this is Indy!
good stuff
 

Deadlock

New member
I'm still reading. :) I really like the last installment.

I think the setting for this last bit of dialogue is brilliant. The rat shoot is a very colorful and memorable change of pace after all the conversations that happen over food and drinks. (Given the setting of the story, that repetition is understandable. But still. ;))
 

roundshort

Active member
Joe, did you ever think of Indy on an Ice Boat adventure, where soemthing happens, like his supplies get stolen? Think about it
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
roundshort said:
Ugh, Joe that was a bit morbid, and a bit like Wildcat swap if you must know . . .

roundshort said:
Joe, did you ever think of Indy on an Ice Boat adventure, where soemthing happens, like his supplies get stolen? Think about it

I think someone has to doublecheck their sources. I went home and checked my copy of Wildcat swamp and (while I may have missed it) I didn't find any reference to any rat shoot. Given the period of the early stories it wouldn't surprise me at all if there was one and I'd like to know if there was because I'd add it to my list to support what some may consider an off color episode.

Are you sure you're not thinking of a certain fox hunt that takes place during the course of said Ice Boad adventure?

Deadlock said:
I'm still reading. :) I really like the last installment.

I think the setting for this last bit of dialogue is brilliant. The rat shoot is a very colorful and memorable change of pace after all the conversations that happen over food and drinks. (Given the setting of the story, that repetition is understandable. But still. ;))

I really appreciate the kind words. I agree that my major dilemma is that the first part of the journey is very dialogue driven, almost too much. And for a first draft all I can really do is get out serviceable dialogue and minimal description -- but I've got to say that I prefer a page of largely one-line (but hopefully interesting) dialogue to full page descriptions of scenes that tend to slow down the action. My challenge when I go to clean this up is to try to minimize and break up the dialogue. One problem is partially what I'm trying to do with all the talking is slip in clues and set up things for future action. As for the rat shoot itself, the setting for Lake finally showing his true colors was intentional. The link to vermin will continue with respect to his storyline. The rat shoot is my bug zapper from Blood Simple (if you remember that thread).

Final word on vermin, I see the red-line stories as playing with the conventions of an Indiana Jones adventure. So the rat shoot is my approximation of the obligatory Indy spider/bug/rat scene (yes I'm using rats again but it's historically accurate). With respect to other conventions there can't, for example, be a relic in an adventure-with-an-adventure. And since there's no relic that means there will be no supernatural element to this first part of Red-Line (but note, while I haven't fully outlined it, I am 85% certain that there will be some supernatural element to the second half as Indy works his way across Asia). As to the ongoing-action serial requirement, I've met that three ways: (i) obviously, Richter is straight continuity, (ii) Indy's problems with Eaton and Pan Am and the references to his trip to South America to get the Idol, and (iii) with respect to the Red-Line story itself, Indy's relationship and history with Andy Solemn. Lastly, I had what I hope was a somewhat humorous stab at Indy the dork (but on-the-prowl) academic on Ford Island. One notable element that is missing is that given the tropical climate, Indy will not be in Jacket, Fedora and using his whip. My intention is for these elements to slowly manifest themselves as Indy gets fully up to speed and starts to assert himself as he unravels all the intrigue around him.
 
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Joe Brody

Well-known member
End of Chapter 6 (more talking -- but its almost over)

?After the Lindbergh kidnapping, it?s hard to call any theory, even Grieves? family grudge angle, implausible? ? Nora shrugged ? ?I just think Madam Sinn?s traveling with such formidable companions is very telling.?

Flushed and near raving, Lake ? with his hand clutching a bottle of gin ? pointed back and forth between his eyes and Indy?s eyes. Slurring his speech, he said ?Something is not right with that whole affair. You sir,? ? Lake lowered his arm and pointed his finger into Indy?s chest ? ?are a true professional, which is why I want you for my little job. As a professional you recognize the utter folly of kidnapping a girl protected by armed guards on an isolated island.?

Indy nodded. ?True, those kidnappers were anything but organized ? they ran out of ammo out on the harbor.?

?Well I don?t think kidnapping is the first choice of any professional con,? observed Nora.

?Whatever they were, they were desperate,? said Lake. ?I, however, am not. I will not go after Grieves? satchel alone. What say you??

Indy was silent for a moment. Then he crossed the landing and grasped the railing. ?Now let me think this through. You can?t steal the cash now because Grieves will likely check the bag as we taxi across the harbor in Manila. As soon as we land in Manila, he?ll go up the pier and straight into the Pan Am terminal office where I bet there?s a safe. He will then come out and greet all the local color and see us off. When the satchel next comes out of the Pan Am safe is anyone?s guess.?

For the moment all the ill effects of Lake?s gin seemed to have disappeared. ?Quite right, you?re quite right. So the problem then is when to do the pinch.?

Indy turned around, noted that Nora seemed perturbed, and said, ?Well the pinch would have to be right there on the pier ? after we get off the plane but before Grieves enters the Pan Am building, wouldn?t you say Nora??

?I suppose.?

Lake nodded his head. ?Exactly. I propose that the two of you take the satchel and I shall provide a distraction on the pier to retard any pursuit.?

Indy grinned at Nora. ?Sounds good to me.?

Without committing to the project, Nora indicated that she wanted to head back to the hotel. Together the three gathered up their things and made their way to the bottom of the stairs as Lake talked details. The hermit crabs had carried the day, and only a few rats remained foraging around the bushes. The three took a wide detour around the battlefield.

Lake staggered on ahead, weaving his way though the low dunes and lush vegetation that marked the Island. Indy walked close beside Nora, content and happy to have time alone with her. It was late and quiet, Nora seemed content, confident and good as she idled along with her eyes looking down at the sand. She was all the more alluring because she seemed sincerely oblivious to the effect she had on men.

?Your marksmanship tonight was almost as impressive of your knowledge of the Chinese tea ceremony,? said Indy. ?You wouldn?t happen to speak Chinese??

In flawless Mandarin, Nora responded, ?Wŏ hui Shuō Zhūngwėn (?I speak Chinese?) -- both Mandarin and Cantonese.?

?And I suppose you learned all this in Kalgoorlie?

Nora laughed and playfully bumped her shoulder against Indy?s. ?Believe it or not I did grow up in Kalgoorlie. When a girl is raised by Chinese cooks and dishwashers in the back room kitchens of hotels and bars, the girl is liable to pick up a few things.?

Indy nodded and bumped Nora back. ?Fair enough.?

?But evidently I never learned how to judge people.?

?How?s that?? Indy slyly mocked Nora by feigning a lack of interest as he looked all-too-casually around the grounds in the same way Nora had acted on the dance floor on Midway.

?I?m surprised that you?re throwing in with Lake,? said Nora with some disgust. ?I figured you were above that sort of thing.?

Indy stopped. He had his sleeves rolled up and a rifle resting on each shoulder. His fedora was perched back on his head. Nora turned to face Indy, over her crossed arms she had draped Indy?s suit jacket.

?Listen,? Indy leaned slightly toward Nora. ?You have never given me any reason to be straight with you, but I?ll tell you this: I don?t think Lake is ever going to get a chance to go ahead with his little scheme. Something bad is going to happen before this flight is over. I?m just glad that I finally know where I stand with one other passenger.?

Indy resumed walking toward the hotel. Nora kept pace. ?So you?re telling me you?re going for the money if the opportunity presents itself??

Sarcastically, Indy responded, ?Wouldn?t you if you had the bills I had to pay??

Nora stopped and called out, ?You?re ducking the question.?

Indy wheeled around. ?O.K. Let?s be straight with one another. Why are you on this flight and what?s your connection with Andrews??

Nora stood dumbfounded. After several seconds she flung Indy?s suit jacket at his face and strode off toward the hotel without a word. With Indy trailing a few yards behind, they came up to the front lawn of an exact duplicate of the hotel on Midway. As they made their way to the front entrance a somewhat agitated Reverend Andrews walked out on to the front stairs.

?I was starting to get worried. I thought you were having problems with the rats.?

Nora brushed past the Reverend and as she passed through the screen door she glared back at Indy, muttering ?You have no idea.?

* * *

Heavy footsteps outside his room caused Indiana Jones to stir awake. It was early morning, and Indy pulled a pillow over his head to deaden the inevitable early morning wake-up call from the ever polite but aggressive hotel staff. No knock came -- instead his door was thrown open and before he could react to the sound of heavy footfalls rushing into his room, Indy was tossed from his bed and pinned hard to the floor by several men.

From the floor Indy strained to see who had entered his room. At first in the dim light all he could make out was the boots of several men filling the room. Straining more, he realized that they were Marines, several of whom immediately set about up-ending the furniture and searching the room.

Resisting the hand that kept his head against the floor, Indy forced out, ?What gives??

The hand ground Indy?s face down into the sandy carpet and a knee dug deeper into his back. ?Just keep your mouth shut Jack.?

A pair of polished dress shoes below a pair of well-tailored pants came into Indy?s view. Standing before Indy?s face Grieves said, ?Search everything, tear out the walls until you find it.?

Grieves started to pace the room. ?He had to have taken it last night. . . .?

At the mention of last night, Indy?s eyes grew wide and his stomach sank. Lake?s scheming had cost him. Again he strained against the hand on his face. ?What are you looking for??

An enraged Grieves crouched down. ?Don?t play stupid with me . . . I don?t know how you could even entertain the thought of sneaking it on the plane. . . .?

A Marine standing by the bed pulled a bayonet from his belt and crouched down toward the mattress, prepared to thrust. A deep voice from the door shouted out, ?Put Down that Bayonet! What the Hell are you thinking? You want to get us all killed??

The young Marine looked confused but nodded toward the door and complied with the order. Confused, Indy tried to get a better view of the search. At least four Marines had tossed out his luggage, pulled out the drawers to his furniture and searched his bathroom. There was a nervous energy and intensity that went beyond the theft of money.

Again the deep voice boomed out, ?Get Jones out of here and continue the search . . .but be careful. I don?t want anyone blowing up this hotel.?

Indy was yanked to his feet and dragged into the hall past a gruff sergeant. Out in the hall looked pleadingly at one of the Marines. ?What did I steal??

The Marine shot a look back at the Sergeant who still stood in the doorway to Indy?s room with his hands on his hips. Then, under his breadth the Marine whispered, ?Someone took a lot of dynamite the airline had brought in to blast the coral out of the harbor . . .?

?You there!? The Sergeant shouted at the young Marine. ?Keep your mouth shut.?

Indy relaxed against the wall, relieved that matters were not as bad as he had first thought. After several minutes Grieves exited the room.

?No matter,? said Grieves straightening his tie. ?You?ll never get it on the plane.?

The young Marine let Indy go. Never taking his eyes off Grieves, Indy shrugged and bumped Grieves as he passed back into his room, knowing that he didn?t have a lot of time to get packed to make departure for Guam.
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
[Start of] Chapter 7

The Philippine Clipper?s departure from Wake Island was delayed while the passengers? luggage was searched for the missing dynamite. Spread across the wharf, the frustrated travelers sat on their bags waiting for a Pan Am Agent to conduct an inspection prior to boarding. A steward walked among the passengers offering ice water to counter the heat rising from the barge?s briny sun-baked deck planks. A couple Marines sat idly up on the pier, smoking and looking down on the group.

Richter worked his way through the chaos to Grieves who stood in the shadow of the Clipper?s massive wing watching the search. ?I understand that there is a city on Guam. Will I be able to go there once we land??

Sitting on one of Madam Sinn?s trunks, Yang wiped his brow. ?It sounds like Mr. Richter has need to visit yet another cable station.?

The sweating German glowered at Madam Sinn?s dour companion. ?Mr. Grieves. Are you any closer to finding those responsible for jettisoning. . . . ? ? Richter trailed off and cast a meaningful eye toward Madam Sinn?s bodyguards ? ?whatever it was that was jettisoned during the last flight??

Grieves sighed heavily and flashed a hard look at Richter. Stifling his first, reflexive response, he said ?We still don?t know what dented the tail. Anyway, it?s a ten hour flight to Guam and another half hour drive to Agaña. I can have a car take you to town but if you intend to dally there you?ll have to find your own way back in time for tomorrow?s departure.?

Richter gave a curt bow. ?Excellent. That will be more than sufficient.?

The agent finished with Madam Sinn?s luggage and moved to Indiana Jones. Indy stood, hands on his hips, with his two bags before him. He kept his gaze fixed on Grieves. The Agent cracked open a satchel bag and raised an eyebrow as he unwrapped Indy?s [Smith & Wesson] pistol.

Indy gave a weak chuckle. ?Go ahead and look: it?s unloaded and there is no ammunition.?

Without a word, the Agent shook his head and set the weapon side. Again, the Agent raised an eyebrow as he removed Indy?s well worn bullwhip.

The whip?s leather coils caught the eye of Gwen Grieves. ?What is that??

?Just a silly prop I?m certain,? said her father with marked disdain.

Indiana Jones shrugged. ?Whatever you say . . .?

Richter, holding his cigarette between his ring and middle finger, took a drag and nodded toward the whip. ?What purpose has a professor for such an implement??

?It?s a field expedient,? replied Indiana Jones with a wry smile. ?Care for a demonstration??

Richter shook his head and crossed to where the whip rested on Indy?s larger suitcase. Treating the whip almost as if it were extremely fragile or completely foreign, Richter raised the whip, letting the coils fall to the deck. ?May I?

Before Indy could respond, Richter, with cat-quick movements, cocked back and cracked the whip out across the barge, straight between Yang and Madam Sinn to where the tip snapped the hand of one of Sinn?s Bodyguards. The man dropped his cigarette and clutched his wounded hand. From above, the two Marines came alive, grabbed their rifles and started down the ramp. Madam Sinn shot a desperate glance at Indiana Jones. Together the bodyguards headed for Richter where they were stopped by Yang.

?Stop now!? Yang shouted to the bodyguards. ?Let the German man be!?

The Marines relaxed as the bodyguards backed away. Richter gave into a bizarre, uncontrolled asthmatic spat of laughter as he coiled the whip. Yang smoldered and glared at Richter. Richter turned his back on Yang and tossed the whip toward Indiana. ?My brother makes use of a near identical tool on occasion.?

?Lucky for him,? said Indiana as he caught the whip. He crouched to stuff the whip back into his satchel. He then snapped the satchel shut and -- to the Agent?s consternation -- he took the bag and headed onboard the Clipper.

The Agent shot an apprehensive look toward Grieves and called out to Indiana. ?Sir, since San Francisco we have had passengers check all luggage.?

?Trust me.? Indy smirked back at the Agent as he climbed through the portal. ?I can manage, thanks.?

* * *
 
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