Red Line: Destination Nepal

Paden

Member
Joe, I'm a latecomer to your work here, having spent the last two days reading up to the most current installment. This is outstanding stuff! I love the intrigue and interconnected storylines. The connection between Nora and the Reverend is a mystery I'm particuarly interested in seeing unravelled. The glimpse of Richter's sadism in the most recent installment was a nice touch. I'm eagerly awaiting more. Keep up the great work!
 
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roundshort

Active member
You had to put Marines in it, didn't you? Just a feindly little search, well tension is building, I like it, I hope the Marines don't have to qucik the stuffing out of Indy too much,\?

Well back to Harry Potter, I can't believe there is only 1 more!
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
[Most likely the end of] Chapter 7

After the Philippine Clipper reached altitude but before Indiana Jones could fall asleep, Andy Solemn crouched by Indy?s seat. Indiana removed his grey fedora and blinked away heavy eyes. ?No coffee on the morning I could use it? What gives Andy??

?I figure you?re making progress. You finally made it through the night without getting your head kicked in.?

?Sure, but I got roughed up this morning.?

?Getting roughed up doesn?t count. Doctor Jones, you?re one of the only passengers that has yet to check out the flight deck and I figure now might be the right time.?

Nora leaned forward from her seat across the aisle. ?Can I go too? I would love to see the flight deck.?

?Well what say you Doctor Jones??

Chagrined, Indiana stared at the seat in front of him for a second and then glanced back at Andy; noting the change for the serious in the kindly steward?s tone. Indy lifted his satchel from his lap and set it on the empty seat beside him. ?You?re right. It?s time I get a better lay of the land.?

As the other steward set up for lunch, Indy and Nora followed Andy through the lounge and into the Galley. Andy asked the couple to hold back while he cleared the visit with the Captain. Andy climbed the steep ladder-like steps to the flight deck, leaving Indy alone with Nora for the first time since the night before. Both angled away from the other, trying not to look in the other?s direction. Indiana thrust his hands in his pockets and affected a keen interest in the afternoon?s salad course set out on the counter.

After Andy returned and gave the all clear, Indiana climbed the ladder to the flight deck and stepped aside to make room for Nora. Even though the forward walls tapered in, the flight deck was almost as broad as the lounge below and offered ample space to accommodate a massive radio console to one side of the cabin and on the other, space for a table and instruments for the aircraft?s navigator. With one hand on his headset, the radioman looked over at Indy, smiled, and gave the thumbs up. On the other side of the cabin, charts spread across the navigator?s table caught Indy?s eye but movement from above his right shoulder caused him to turn. Several steps up from the flight deck was a small but deep triangular space ? just big enough for one man -- that Indy figured ran toward the back of the plane just below the wing. An exposed steel skeleton and the plane?s bluish rippled aluminum frame gave the space a futuristic appearance. Set back in the recess amidst wall-mounted instruments sat the chief engineer, dressed in his Flash Gordon outfit, intently making entries on a clipboard and looking out small windows that afforded a clear view of the plane?s engines.

?Doctor Jones, believe me the engineer?s throne room holds little appeal once you know it?s the only unheated part of the plane.? The Captain had left his seat by the controls and extended a hand toward Indiana. ?We?re glad you could pay us a visit.?

Indy grinned and returned the handshake. ?Even though Grieves thinks I?m the Devil incarnate??

From behind Indy, the Navigator snorted. ?Especially because Grieves thinks you?re the Devil.?

?Plus Andy and Gwen say you?re an O.K. guy,? said the Captain.

Nora looked puzzled, ?What is the story with Grieves??

?Since the flight from Hawaii, he has been bearing down on us? ? the Navigator hesitated and looked at the Captain ? ?making us fly in conditions that we?d rather not. On Pearl, Grieves challenged the weather reports and insisted we fly on to Midway. Had we had our way, we would have spent another day in Pearl.?

?But aren?t those your decisions?? Indiana asked the Captain.

The Captain nodded. ?Technically. But the thing about Grieves is that he?s one of Pam Am?s true experts in ocean flying. You name it, he can do; meteorology, night navigation, flying or engineering. If there?s ever a war, he has sealed orders to report to La Quarula Field in New York to run the Navy?s pilot training school. He?s that good.?

The navigator sat back and studied his map. ?Well, it?s sure hard to second guess him. If we keep our present pace, we?re on pace to set a new record to Manila.?

?Do you suppose he?s friendly with Lindbergh,? asked Nora. Indiana turned and raised an eyebrow at the question.

?Well Lindbergh staked out this very route for Pan Am and Lindbergh is in tight with Trippe,? replied the Captain. ?But I doubt the two know each that well. Grieves has always been posted abroad, either in the Orient or South America.?

The second pilot looked back over his shoulder. ?With Grieves around, this crew is just a glorified extension of the Clipper?s autopilot.? The pilot hit a lever and joined the group. ?I heard you two were on a rat safari last night. On my first stopover in Wake I set the record by bagging over forty -- how did you two do?

Nora shrugged. ?We didn?t keep count, but we only had one box of rounds between us.?

The second pilot nodded. ?Sure, there are 120 bullets in a box, sixty each. So how many did you two miss??

With a straight face, Indiana looked at Nora. ?How many did we miss??

?I don?t remember missing any.?

?Neither do I.? Indiana broke into a wide smile and slapped the second pilot on the shoulder. The pilot started to laugh but was cut short by a terrible piercing scream from down in the passenger compartment.

Indy jumped down the ladder and raced back to the dim sleeping compartment where a rattled Madam Sinn stood with a hand clutched above her chest. Beside her, Yang glared at Indiana and pulled back the curtain. Inside the berth, exposed by a pulled back bed sheet sat Indy?s bullwhip.

?What manner of insult is this?? demanded Yang.

Dumbfounded, Indy stammered. ?I don?t know how this could have happened.?

?This ? after all the concern you have shown for my safety?? choked Madam Sinn.

Grieves came up through a group of passengers behind Indiana Jones and assessed the scene without a word. Yang grabbed the whip. ?Mr. Grieves? ? Yang flung the whip at Indiana ? ?this man is a degenerate.?

?Perhaps,? Grieves shook his head. ?But he likely is not at fault here.? Grieves turned his head, shouted ?Gwen!?

Indiana looked back into the passenger compartment where the nine year old girl sheepishly turned her head around the seat recently vacated by Indiana. Saying that he would deal with Gwen later, Grieves made his apologies to Madam Sinn and asked everyone to settle in for the flight to Guam.

The flight landed against an orange-grey evening sky. The monotony of daily flights had worn down the passengers and crew who trekked up the pier toward the converted two-story former Marine barracks that served as the Pan Am system hotel on Guam. There was little discussion as Lake whistled a mournful version of Dixie. At the hotel, Indy chose to wait for the other guests to check-in, so he lingered alone out on the broad screened-in porch that ran the length of the building. Just as he was about to enter, he was joined by Grieves.

?There?s strange news out of Shanghai. It seems that the airport dispatcher there -- who I believe you know -- was found dead today. He had been severely beaten prior to his death.?

Indy balked. For a moment he was lost to the buzz from the insects outside and the stiffly end-of-day heat and humidity. ?His name was Art Weber. He was helping me with arrangements for the next leg of my trip.?

?Do you suspect there?s any connection with your mission for Army Intelligence??

?Possibly.?

?I knew Weber had? ? Grieves paused as he looked for the right word ? ?peculiar tastes. So perhaps his death has nothing to do with you??

Indy stepped close to Grieves. ?Tell me what passengers sent cables while we were on Midway.?

Grieves took a step back from Indiana ? then raised himself up. ?I wouldn?t breach a passenger?s confidence because you have some wild, unsubstantiated suspicious that your activities are so important so as to have caused the deaths of all those men on Midway. And don?t forget, I have no access to the Cable Company?s records.?

Indy checked his anger. ?So you?re just going to turn a blind eye again??

Grieves turned and went to enter the hotel. He paused at the door. ?Not at all. All I want to do is get to the end of this flight with the minimal disruption. And besides, I suspect you don?t really need me to tell you who sent a cable from Midway.?

[thanks Paden & Roundshort -- much will be made very clear in the next installment or two.]
 
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roundshort

Active member
How many "bullets" in a box, uuhhh point of order here int he miltary they are rounds? Slipping here Joe, but I like the drection here
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
roundshort said:
How many "bullets" in a box, uuhhh point of order here int he miltary they are rounds? Slipping here Joe, but I like the drection here

That was a civilian talking.

It's a shame about Art Weber. . . .
 
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Joe Brody

Well-known member
Red Line: Destination Nepal said:
?I knew Weber had? ? Grieves paused as he looked for the right word ? ?peculiar tastes. So perhaps his death has nothing to do with you??

roundshort said:
Joe,what are you saying, he was chasing the dragon, or people were looking for Indy's flight route, e.g. nazis?

I'll leave the door open on that one. The Art Weber character has never made any sense to me:

Joe Brody in the Character Summaries Thread said:
Art Weber
Prim Airport Dispatcher who secures unglamorous passage for Indiana Jones and friends out of Shanghai. On a set location worthy of Casablanca, Dan Akroyd?s cameo as a dressed-for-safari-Britisher keen on American vocalists is one of the Franchise's great incongruities.

. . . .and I admit I'm grinding an ax by having him killed. An opium addiction would be a fitting vice for a Brit in Shanghai (Britain made a fortune off the trade) -- but on the other hand it wouldn't surprise me that if Art Weber were alive today he would be a huge Liza Minelli fan.

I like Grieve's inference because it says something about the type of person that Grieves is and how he looks at people.
 
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Paden

Member
More good stuff, Joe. I remain very intrigued about the mystery involving Madame Sinn. I'm really curious to learn more about her shadowy situation. The new information on Grieves was enlightening. He isn't the most likeable character, but he is interesting.

And, wow, Weber's dead. (That wasn't a complaint. :) )
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
End of Chapter 7


At a loss for how to deal with the obstinate Director, Indiana followed Grieves through the door and headed for the bar. Lake sat making the most of the time before dinner by lecturing the blank-faced Chamorros barkeep on the intrinsic value of the Gin Rickey. Indy tapped the bar and asked for whiskey but cut the man off when the barkeep reached for a glass. ?I?ll take a bottle,? said Indiana Jones.

Lake looked up from his gin as Indy grabbed the bottle. ?Take it from me -- drinking alone is nothing but trouble.?

Indy backed away with an empty smile. ?Trouble I got.?

?Sir?? The barkeep called out as Indy turned to his room. ?To who should I charge the bottle??

?W.C. Grieves,? replied Indiana as he walked off to his room. ?He?s first class.?

Lake raised his glass after Indy. ?To Pan Am. Where first class is the only class!?

Inside his room, Indy set the bottle down on his nightstand and opened his satchel. He removed his pistol and gave it a quick once over. He then reached into the bottom of the satchel and removed the bottom panel. Working his fingernails along the edge he found a seam and ripped back the heavy cloth covering. Inside were three long rows of rounds for his Smith & Wesson. Indy loaded his weapon, pocketed some extra rounds and tucked the pistol into his pants. He then grabbed his bottle and headed out through the lobby.

Nora looked up from her magazine and frowned as Indy strode past bottle-in-hand. Without slowing, Indy popped open the screen door and went outside. From the bar, Lake raised an eyebrow toward Nora.

Indy walked down the drive from the System Hotel to the main road. He stopped at the gate to the Pan Am compound and put the bottle down on the waist-high whitewashed perimeter wall. He then climbed up beside the bottle. The main road was nothing more than a wide dirt track flanked by dense vegetation -- there were no buildings in sight, just a crooked row of weathered telephone poles. As the evening wore on, several vehicles passed through the gate ? delivery trucks returning to Agaña, a car or two, and several primitive carts pulled by water buffalo. These primitive single-axle traps, fashioned from raw logs, carried various domestics and kitchen workers back home to their villages from jobs tending the Marines and other permanent party personnel. As the evening progressed, a stone-faced Indiana Jones sat unmoving next to the un-opened bottle as the brake lights or the lanterns hung from the water buffalo carts receded into the night.

Finally around midnight, headlights broke down the road from Agaña. Indy flagged down the driver who leaned out his window with a questioning look. Ignoring the driver, Indy peered into the car and then wretched open the back door. Indy yanked Richter out from his seat and threw the German down into the dirt. Tossing some bills through the window, Indy hissed ?Get lost.? As the car spun up a cloud of dust, Richter -- down on all fours -- leered up at Indy. A thin wicked knife appeared in Richter?s hand but before he could make any use of the weapon Indy stepped down hard on Richter?s hand. Indy ground his heel, causing Richter to howl with pain. Indy took a step back and unleashed a vicious kick under Richter?s chin. Disarmed and overmatched, the German took a beating without putting up any further resistance. Under the gate?s single exposed bulb, a grim Indiana circled Richter, who gasped desperately for breath. With his fists clenched and sleeves rolled up, Indy stepped in and gave Richter a hard punch whenever Richter came close to recovering.

Eventually Indy, covered in road dust and sweat, crouched down next to the beaten and bloodied man. Indy pressed his revolver against Richter?s temple. ?What do you know about Art Weber??

Hunched down on all fours, Richter buried his head into the dirt and sobbed. Indiana threw Richter down into the dirt and continued to circle the man. ?Who did you cable from Midway??

With his forehead still resting in the dirt, Richter could only shake his head. Indy stopped circling and kicked Richter hard in ribs. ?On Midway, you snuck up and picked off that cable crew one-by-one.?

Richter looked up. ?No. It was Madam Sinn?s men.?

Indiana kicked Richter again. ?Now why would Sinn?s men kill the cable crew? Those goons? ? Indy leaned over and picked up the thin blade from the dirt ? ?lack the finesse to do that sort of job. A person that uses a knife like this on the other hand . . . .? Indy hurled the blade deep into the jungle.

?I don?t know what you mean.?

?Maybe you don?t but you?re lying about Sinn?s men killing the cable crew -- they were all holed up in their room that night. If I had the time, I?d hand you over to the Marines but since you sent your friends to work over Art Weber for what he knows, I can?t afford any delay.?

Richter?s eyes went wide as Indy -- gun in hand -- pulled away. Indy looked back toward the Pan Am compound and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. He broke the seal, took a deep swig and pointed the bottle at Richter. ?If I were you, I wouldn?t be on that plane tomorrow.?

Richter closed his eyes. With two quick steps Indy closed the distance on Richter and brought the bottle down hard on the German Agent?s head where it shattered in a spray of whiskey and glass. Richter sprawled out on the road unconscious. Again Indy looked around and dragged Richter deep into the bushes on the far side of the road.

Hoping to slip back into the hotel, Indy returned to his room through a side entrance. As he passed through his door a hand clamped across his mouth. However, this time it was not the strong, steady hand of a Marine. Reflexively, without thinking, Indy grabbed the arm and twisted it hard around the back of his assailant. With his attacker in front, Indy then charged across the room, hurtling his attacker?s head into the outside wall. His attacker fell limp to the floor. Gun in hand, Indiana switched on his bed lamp and fell to his bed stunned.

?I left you in Pearl Harbor.?

On the floor lay the missing kidnapper. He was in his early twenties and Asian. He was filthy and gaunt. He raised himself up on one elbow and locked eyes with Indiana Jones. ?I am a friend of Madam Sinn.?

?Friend?? Indiana Jones laughed deeply and shook his head. ?Friend, you were kidnapping her at gunpoint.?

?No.? The man shook his head with intensity. ?We were rescuing her.?

Incredulous, Indy said, ?Rescuing her??

?Yes from Yang and those men. They are Japanese. Ruan Sinn has a baby that she left back in Shanghai. Her baby has been kidnapped, and those men are forcing her to give them cover so they can hijack the Philippine Clipper.?

Let the games begin.
 

roundshort

Active member
NICE, revenge scene, that is a good ol
fashion ass-kicking if I ever read one, if you get a chance pick of Corminc McCarthy's latest, a short read, not as violent as his ther stuff, but damn good!

I like this latest, getting the action going!

but I think Kim Possilbe is my cartoon
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
cc2-cards.jpg


Until now I chose to not provide any information (along with a bibliography of my source material) about the Clipper because I did not want readers to jump ahead, read about the plane's history and deduce where the story was going -- a hijacking attempt by Japanese agents years prior to World War II.

cc11s.jpg


However, now that the cat is out of the bag, it is time to give some background on the plane. The drawing above shows the plane's layout. The illustration is small but please note: the forward galley leads back into the lounge, which gives way to a small passenger seating compartment. Unlike the plane used in Raiders of the Lost Ark there is no seating area or true upper deck in the Martin M-130. I have departed from the film in this respect and do not include any upper deck because it does not match the actual M-130 Clipper. If anything, I imagine the Clipper's seating compartment (broken in the image above by the crease) to be a bit longer, consisting of a couple rows of seats. The rear of the plane consists of the sleeping compartment, bathrooms and the stairs up to the afterhatch. Also, under the flight deck and nose of the plane was the storage/baggage area.

At the end of Part One, I intend to provide more background and other info on the Clipper, my sources, and Asia-Pacific in 1936.


Thanks roundshort & Deadlock, I really didn't know what to do with the last night on an island. I was leaning towards one more contact with Yang and Sinn -- but figured (i) there's been too much talking, and (ii) Art Weber rated some sort of reaction/retribution. I just gave free-reign to my Indy-Noir implues -- and consider the Richter beating (under the one light) to be the most noirish segment of the Part 1 of RedLine.
 
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Paden

Member
Joe Brody said:
I just gave free-reign to my Indy-Noir implues -- and consider the Richter beating (under the one light) to be the most noirish segment of the Part 1 of RedLine.

And what a wonderfully noir sequence it was. I really liked the end of the chapter as well.
 

Deadlock

New member
Keep the noir coming! I think this is an under-explored facet to the Jones character. But I think it is absolutely essential to a more mature rendition of Jones.

This is related: but I recently checked out one of the Max McCoy Indy books at the library... I had a bad feeling when I found it in the "Young Adult Paperback" session. This impending sense of cheese was quickly substantiated by the text itself. :sick:

So, Joe... from my extremely limited exposure to the world of Indy in print... yours is the most mature and intellectually satisfying stuff I've read. Keep up the good work! :whip:
 

roundshort

Active member
Joe,
where did you find those fun pictures? Beats the hell out of coach I'll tell you that, but I'll take a cit.X any day!
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
[Start of] Chapter 8

Indiana Jones hesitated at the revelation of Yang?s deceit and the prospect of a hijacking. He looked down at the man on the floor and drew a long slow breath. ?Did you steal dynamite on Wake??

?No, I don?t know what you are talking about.? The man raised his left arm ? an ugly blackened oval of dead skin ran down his forearm from elbow to wrist. ?I barely survived stowing away on the Clipper. Just avoiding detection and stealing some food is all that I?ve managed since we left Hawaii.?

As the man spoke, Indy moved to the bathroom and began running warm water in the sink. ?Get cleaned up -- that frostbite may get infected. Where were you stowing away??

?A maintenance crawl space between the engines that is accessed through a small door under the wing. The plane always taxies to the pier on the port side, so I stayed in the space on the starboard side. Since the Mechanics have to wait for the engines to cool, I was always able to slip down onto the sea wing and then swim to shore undetected after the passengers and aircrew left the plane. I froze on the flight to Midway. Even though it was warm against the engine fire-wall, the bottom of the wing was freezing.?

?So whatever touched the wing is frostbite.?

The man nodded as he removed his shoes and socks. His swollen toes had the telltale dark scab-like dead tissue. He then rolled up his pant legs to reveal similar trauma to his knees. He walked gingerly past Indy into the bathroom. He had a sunken, exhausted expression; his eyes lacked focus. Avoiding discussion of the likely fate of the toes, Indy sat on the bed facing away from the bathroom and asked, ?Why did you come to me??

?I finally got into Sinn?s room last night. As far as I know it was the first time that she was left alone. Yang had her doped up but I managed to wake her. She refused to leave because of her daughter being held captive. But she told me of the plan to hijack the Clipper, and she told me to find you.?

?Why did Madam Sinn leave her baby in Shanghai??

?Madam Sinn has never married.? The man stopped the water and leaned against the doorframe. ?And unlike other actresses who got their start as singers ? or worse, concubines ? she comes from a good family. Her good pedigree is a major part of her appeal. So the baby?s existence ? and the identity of the father ? remain a closely guarded secret.?

?But her good name has not stopped her from taking some interesting roles,? observed Indiana Jones.

The man brightened. ?Ah, you know Chinese film.?

?A friend took me to see The Princess the last time I was in Shanghai," said Indiana Jones. "Madam Sinn?s performance was very impressive ? only in Shanghai could an actress with her social standing garner a huge following playing a prostitute.?

?Madam Sinn is very brave and has defied many to make the films of her choice. But she had to stop filming during her pregnancy, which led to many rumors. It was hoped that her traveling without a child to the United States would end the gossip and save her career. Yang?s men abducted her from her cousin?s house in Hawaii. When word came of her leaving Honolulu on the Clipper. . . . ?

?You made your move to rescue her at the luau.? Indiana got to his feet. ?I think Yang may have gotten spooked after Midway and had some gear dumped during the flight to Wake, so are you sure that he still intends to hijack the Clipper??

?Madam Sinn told me about that as well. Yang?s men stashed film from Hawaii in a waterproof bag strapped to a weather balloon, which had a mechanism to inflate the balloon with air after it was thrown from the plane. They also dumped a radio and camera equipment.?

?Assuming the gas was just air,? Indiana put his hands behind his head and stretched. ?That means the balloon was meant to float and was likely retrieved by some ship ? probably a Japanese submarine. And I would bet my last dollar that the photos were not pictures of pineapple fields and Diamond Head.?

?Most likely the pictures are of the Navy base at Pearl Harbor.?

?Well there?s nothing we can do now about the pictures. That submarine is the better part home. The best I can do is get word to a contact I have with the Government.?

The man sank to a seat. Indiana placed his pistol together with a handful of extra rounds on the table next to the man and headed for the door. ?You?re not safe here but just stay put and don?t let anyone in.?

?Where are you going??

?To make arrangements for the flight to Manila; if Yang plans on taking the plane it will be in the air tomorrow.? Indiana opened the door to leave. ?What?s your name??

?Bill Peng.? The men shook hands.

?Indiana Jones ? Now rest but try not to fall asleep.?


Not were I wanted to stop off but I'll be tied up for the next couple of days and I can't get a discussion with Grieves right -- but there is some food for thought there. Roundshort, I'll post links to three or four sites shortly.
 
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roundshort

Active member
Getting, very, very good here Joe, waiting with baited breath for the next installment, well good luck with, well everything, let me know when you are back!

Good Luck!
 

Paden

Member
Wow. The plot really thickens. Excellent stuff as usual, Joe. I'm eagerly awaiting the next installment.
 
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