Red Line: Destination Nepal

Joe Brody

Well-known member
The Untold Story of Indiana Jones?s Journey To The Raven

Chapter 1

?Dr. Jones, wake up, sir. Dr. Jones?

Indiana Jones stirred awake. In the aisle before him stood a gray-haired steward in a tight white double-breasted jacket. He offered steaming coffee -- the cup and saucer were of fine quality and emblazoned with the confident winged-globed logo of Pan-American Airlines.

?I?m sorry to wake you sir but we?re about to serve breakfast in the lounge. If you?d like, you can meet some of the other passengers traveling with you on to Manila.?

Indy blinked his eyes, set his fedora on the empty seat beside him, and took a sip of the coffee. The steady drone from the engines filled the cabin and rays from a morning sun played across the face of the kindly steward.

?I know you from somewhere, don?t I?? asked Indiana Jones.

?Yes sir,? replied the steward. ?I?m Andy Solemn. I worked the Golden State . . .?

?That?s it,? interrupted Indiana Jones, grinning and snapping his fingers. ?Boy was that some trip ? if it hadn?t been for you I wouldn?t be here today. So what made you swap the Golden State for the China Clipper??

The steward shifted his weight. ?I suppose it is bad for business when a porter ties up passengers ? even if they happen to be thieves. So the railroad put me on as a brakeman until their trial. When the conviction came down, I got my old job back but by that time I was ready for a change. Anyhow ? that?s when I heard about the Clipper. So I packed up and headed to ?frisco.?

?Good for you, Andy,? said Indiana as he rose and stepped into the aisle. ?But I?m sorry to hear about the hitch as a brakeman. That?s tough work at any age.?

?Don?t you have no worries Dr. Jones. I wouldn?t take back that trip on the Golden State if you paid me ? it was the most important thing I?ve ever done . . . and now I?m flying to beautiful places like Honolulu. It?s like I?m on permanent holiday.?

?Smart move. Speaking of Honolulu ? when do we land??

?In about an hour. Get your breakfast while you can. Once we land you won?t be getting any food until the Airline?s restaurant opens later this afternoon. Plus, you?ll want to meet some of the other passengers.?

Indy nodded and fell in behind the steward who led the way through a narrow portal. The lounge was a squarish space, wider than a Pullman car and with furnished high-backed stuffed seats mounted against the walls of the cabin. Andy crossed the room to the galley. A couple of passengers were seated before collapsible tables but most stood clustered in the middle of the floor where an older, heavyset man talked excitedly about the Clipper.

?. . . .and not only does she have the greatest range of any plane in the air today ? but she?s got unequaled luxury appointments that guaranty your comfort over the next five days as we make our way to Manila. . . . .?

Indiana Jones settled into a seat and was served immediately with a bowl of fresh fruit. But before Indy could make much progress a tall thin man in a linen suit broke from the group. He advanced with an unsteady gait.

?Good morning. I am Lucien S. Lake of Birmingham Alabama, I am pleased to meet you sir.? He spoke with a fast-paced southern drawl that sounded less than genuine.

?Good morning. Henry Jones.? Not much for small talk, Indy shook hands quickly and kept his attention fixed on his food.

Lake gave a dismissive nod toward the group as he settled in beside Indy. ?Novice travelers for the most part. There are some honeymooners and a couple of Navy flyers only going as far as Pearl. Right now the only other through travelers appear to be you, me, a rather dry Reverend type named Andrews, that lady who has something to do with a hotel in Australia ? her name is Nora something or other ? and that odd fellow over there.?

Lake nodded across the cabin to a thin sallow man in glasses who kept his head buried in a magazine. Lucas stared at the sallow man for a moment. ?I haven?t gotten his story yet.?

?What about him?? Indy pointed with his fork at the heavy-set man who stood singing the praises of the plane.

?Oh yes. Unfortunately he?s going all the way as well. Seems he?s some higher-up with the Airline. He?s to assume control of the Manila operations.? Lucas mockingly pushed out his chest. ?It?s a big job and boy does he know it. I haven?t seen her yet but I understand his eleven year old daughter is around here somewhere.?

A steward served Indy with a second plate of steaming eggs and bacon garnished with fresh pineapple. Lake stayed the steward by grasping his arm as he served Indy. ?A bit of gin, please. I?m still on West Coast time.?

Without thinking Indy observed, ?It?s still morning in San Francisco. ?

Lake chuckled, ?And so it is, but I have never allowed time to dictate my consumption ? especially when confined such as this . . . .?

Lake gave a wave to the cabin at large that caused Indy to look up at the group still conversing with the Pan Am Director. Just as Indy turned his attention back to his plate, the female bound for Australia caught his eye. She had taken a step back from the group and was surreptitiously working to get the attention of the Reverend on the far side of the group. The Reverend stood with his hands on his hips, thumbs in his belt, with both sides of his jacket pushed back revealing the butt of an automatic pistol holstered under his arm. The lady caught the Reverend?s gaze and gestured toward the exposed weapon. The Reverend caught on and dropped his arms. The scene played out in an instant -- so quickly that the lady?s gaze shifted to Indiana as he watched the pistol disappear from sight. Lake had missed the mini-drama as he savored his drink and spoke of the importance of drinking while traveling.

?One second,? interrupted Indiana Jones. ?That Australian ? is she traveling with the Reverend??

?Oh no, why would she? Why would you. . . . ? Lake trailed off in laughter. ?Ah, I quite understand. You seek diversions other than drink to see you through a long journey.? Lake turned to leer at the woman. ?One could certainly do worse. She seems a bit . . . formidable. I?m sure she?ll be quite the challenge -- but please sir make some time in the coming days for some libations.?

?Perhaps.? Said Indiana.

?Four days is a long time,? replied Lake. ?Anything can happen.?
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
[First Half of] Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The T-130 flying boat ? the ?Philippine Clipper? made a graceful landing on the calm waters of Pearl Harbor and taxied to a floating pier at Pan American?s facility on Ford Island. As the passengers disembarked, attractive Pan American employees placed welcoming floral leis on each passenger. In no hurry, Indiana Jones stood at ease, savoring the cool morning breeze, the sound of the small waves lapping against the pier and the view of the ships in the broad harbor. The sallow-faced man, on the other hand, had no patience for a traditional Hawaiian welcome and pushed his way through the crowd.

?I must send a cable. Immediately,? he said to the Pan American agent overseeing the welcome.

?If you?d like, write out your message now,? replied the agent, as he gestured the group down the pier. ?I?ll personally take your cable to our offices and see that it is sent immediately.?

?No. That is unacceptable. I must do this myself. Where is the nearest commercial office??

?In the city ? but you?ll have to take the launch to the Island and then the train into the City. It will take you all day.?

Visibly agitated, the sallow-faced man turned red, muttered something under his breath, the spat out, ?Give me the necessary directions.?

Together the agent and sallow-faced man headed down the pier behind the group, with the agent explaining how to get to Honolulu. Indy held back and walked with the crew of the Clipper. He cocked his fedora back on his head and fell in beside Andy.

?So you?re off-duty??

Andy grinned. ?After an eighteen hour flight? You bet. I?ve got to get some sleep. I have to be back with the rest of the crew early tomorrow to make sure our kit is set for the next leg.?

?Well get your sleep. . . . Say, what do you know about the Reverand??

?Not much. Just that he?s going on to Hong Kong to oversee some mission work.?

?So the Reverend is not going in-country?? asked Indy.

?Not that I know,? shrugged Andy.

?You think it?s a little odd that a Reverend would be carrying a gun??

The old porter stopped and eyed Indiana Jones at the foot of the pier. ?What are you saying Doctor Jones??

?It?s probably nothing but just now I saw him in the lounge and he was sporting an automatic under his jacket.?

?That is strange. . . .?

?And as far as you know he?s traveling alone??

?I know that for a fact,? answered Andy. ?I saw him pull up alone in a cab back in San Francisco.?

?Well, don?t worry about it. Just keep and eye on him and that Aussie women.?

?She?s packing too??

?No ? but she made sure he wasn?t flashing the gun around any more than he was.?

Andy chuckled. ?Maybe she was just being polite.?

Indy returned the chuckle. ?Maybe. You get your rest now.?

?Now Doctor Jones you try to get some rest too remember you got the Pan-Am luau tonight ? you won?t want to miss it.?

* * *
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
Deadlock said:
So, Joe is this going to be your entry into TheRaider.net Writing contest? :)

In 1936 it took seven days to fly from San Francisco to Asia on Pan American?s legendary China Clipper. Indiana Jones would have been among the first to make this passage as he embarked on his quest to find Dr. Abner Ravenwood at the beginning of Raiders of the Lost Ark. It would be easy to dismiss Indiana Jones?s journey aboard the China Clipper and assume that he slept most of the way ? but I think the China Clipper?s historical significance and the colorful passengers provide a unique background for adventure.

As Indiana Jones flies across the Pacific, I plan on several stories unfolding: An Asian Movie Star and her suspicious companions who board the China Clipper in Honolulu want more than just a luxurious flight home. . . . A smarmy southern salesman determined to strike up a friendship with Indiana Jones clearly has some sinister agenda. . . . A minister on his way to inspect Shanghai orphanages but packing a concealed weapon is clearly more than he seems . . . . especially since he seems to be in league with a beautiful young women ? a supposed stranger . . . and lurking in the background is a German Agent tasked with keeping tabs on Indiana Jones but certainly smart enough to figure out and figure in the growing intrigue on the plane. Needless to say, some of the interesting questions raised in the Raven Bar fight sequence in Raiders of the Lost Ark would be answered before Indiana Jones reaches the end of his journey (why Indiana Jones has the extra automatic in the Raven and why Toht enigmatically refers to Indiana Jones as ?nefarious?).

I?m throwing out the ?Red-Line? concept now because there are any number of other ?Red-Line? journeys set in the films that could serve as a basis for an adventure-within-an-adventure fan fiction. I have no interest in the contest and this project will certainly only be completed after the deadline for any contest.
 

Deadlock

New member
Very cool. I look forward to reading more. :)

Two small question about your story so far.

1. In your story, Indy introduces himself as "Henry Jones"... Do you really think he'd do that? I always assumed that he'd buried that name for good.

2. The southern dude introduces himself as "Lucien S. Lake" but then the story switches over to "Lucas" abruptly. Intentional?
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
The 'Henry Jones' was intentional, as you'll see later on. . . but the Lucas was a pure slip. Good spot -- and interesting name for me to type. Wonder where my mind was . . . . .

Anyway, thanks for the feedback and I'm sorry for all the set-up. I've got to work some problems with the second half of the second chapter (which is mostly devoted to a luau scene). I'll get it up as soon as a I can.
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
Chapter 2 -- Part 2

Chapter 2 -- Part 2


Indiana Jones leaned closer to the sink and worked the razor along the side of his face. Looking in the mirror back over his shoulder he eyed the yellow and orange floral print shirt lying on the bed. The shirt -- a gift from the airline -- had been placed in the hotel room prior to his arrival together with an engraved invitation announcing a luau to be held that night in a lush grove adjoining the Pan American compound. With his attention diverted from the task at hand, Indy suffered the consequences. He jerked at the warm slicing sensation on his jaw and cursed ?dammit!? at his carelessness. Frantically, he cast out for something to staunch the bleeding. Seeing nothing but immaculate white towels and washcloths embroidered with the Pan Am logo, Indy went to his bag and removed his pistol, which he had packed in a rag. Unwrapping the pistol, he tore the rag to use as a small bandage. With one hand compressing his wound, he hefted the weapon and tossed it back into his bag. ?No need for you ? tonight?s a party night.?

Ten minutes later Indiana Jones emerged from his room, dressed in his field pants (freshly pressed), Aldens and the tropical shirt that did not quite square with his wetted-down hair and spectacles. A torch-lit path curved away from the Pan-American Airways System hotel into a deep stand of palm trees. Through the trees Indy could hear a steady beat of music and the buzz of human activity.

Following the path, Indy turned a corner and saw a substantial receiving line of servers in native garb, Pan American Employees, and the air crew of the Philippine Clipper. At the head of the line stood the Manila bound Pan American executive. When the executive saw Indiana, he broke from his post to intercept Indiana well short of the line.

?Doctor Jones. I?m W.C. Grieves ? Director, Pan American Airways,? as he spoke he extended a heavy, sweaty hand.

?Please, that?s just plain ?Mr. Jones?, Mr. Grieves,? grinned Indiana with forced courtesy.

At this Grieves took a step off the path and pulled Indiana close. ?Oh no ? I do mean ?Doctor Jones.? Being in aviation I associate with important people. On occasion I work with a mutual acquaintance. I believe you know a Major Eaton.?

Disgusted, Indiana Jones put his hands on his hips and looked hard at the self-satisfied Grieves. ?What is this about? I have a deal with Army Intelligence. Part of that deal ? a big part in fact ? is that I work alone. I didn?t even tell Eaton my itinerary. If he thinks he?s going to nursemaid me by proxy across the Pacific, I?m going to book passage on a ship.?

Grieves stepped backed -- shocked by Indiana Jones?s intensity. ?No, no, no. You misunderstand. My sole objective is to see to your comfort. Apart from that I have no other role ? honest.?

Put off equally by Grieves imploring eyes and his association with Eaton ? who actually looked quite a bit like Grieves, Indiana shrugged. ?O.K. That is much appreciated. I?m sorry for overreacting. I?m just trying to keep a low profile.?

Grieves straightened himself. ?Quite understandable. Low profile it is.?

?Good.?

?Now I?m a man of my word. And I can think of no better way to see to your comfort than to welcome you to Pan American?s kick off luau for the Philippine Clipper.?

With that Grieves took Indiana back to the receiving line. After several quick introductions as ?Mr. Henry Jones?, Indiana joined the luau, which was already underway. In a clearing on the far side of a fire pit, a group of bare-chested dancers twirled flaming spears as drummers kept a hard, fast beat. Indiana made his way to last empty place at the long low table for the Clipper passengers where he noted that both the Reverend and the sallow face man were absent. To his left sat the mysterious Australian women from the plane. She ignored Indiana as he clumsily took his sat on a white cushion. On his right was a beautiful Asian women in her late twenties. She smiled and shifted to make room.

The spear-dancers took their twirling to a fevered pitch. With incredible dexterity, they tossed their spears high a final time and took their bows. As the dancers took their exit -- one by one they ran from the clearing, burying their still flaming spears in the sand as they left. Servers brought platters of Americanized food: barbecued ribs, beef and skewers of shrimp and vegetables. After the applause subsided Lucien Lake ? who was seated further down the table -- raised his glass to Indiana Jones, ?How fortunate for you to be seated between two such lovely ladies.?

Indy nodded at the toast, raised his drink and leaned forward grinning, ?Fortunate indeed. You see this island was once called Moku'ume'ume ? which means "island of the game." Back in the day, natives would congregate here around bonfires just as we are tonight to have their chief pair couples regardless of marriage . . . .? -- at this the companion to the lady to Indy?s right, a grim looking man of Asian descent, leaned forward and glared, but Indy, caught up in his own story, continued undeterred ? ?. . . . once paired, the couple would then go off into the night and do what couples have done since the beginning of time.?

With a half a grin, Indiana Jones sat back and drained his drink. The Australian woman looked at Indiana Jones for the first time, narrowed her gaze, and with a mock innocence asked, ?and this practice continues to this day??

Still caught up in his story, Indiana shook his head and replied, ?No. I?m pretty certain that stopping the games on Moku'ume'ume was the first order of business for the Christian missionaries.?

?How sad,? responded the Australian dryly.

Misunderstanding her gist, Indiana leaned closer, ?Yes. How sad indeed.?

The Australian pulled back and turned toward Lucien, ?and what takes you to the Orient, Mr. Lake??

Lake finished his drink. ?Export opportunities, my dear. Export opportunities that are there for the taking . . . . even in these uncertain times in the Orient. However of infinitely more interest is the precious import seated at this table. Mr. Jones, I am pleased to introduce you to great shining star of the Chinese cinema, Madame Ruan Sinn.?

?I am honored,? said Indiana Jones. As he spoke for the first time he noticed that seated immediately behind Madame Sinn and her companion were two large dour men. Both stared forward with blank looks on their faces ? completely ambivalent to the festivities.

?As am I,? replied the Madame Sinn. Again she smiled and held Indiana?s gaze. She had a commanding presence beyond her years. Hula dancers took center stage in the clearing accompanied by soothing Hawaiian music. ?The music makes me feel as if I am trapped in a dream.?

Indiana Jones relaxed and took another whiskey. ?Yes. Entrancing.?

Madam Sinn?s companion cleared his throat, causing her to stiffen. Indiana rolled his eyes and took another swig.

For the rest of the evening, all attempts to engage the Australian lady in conversation were rebuffed, and Madam Sinn remained reluctant to speak to Indiana Jones. Every few minutes, she would look his way but her stern companion would glare and shift closer. The only real diversion was watching Lake. No one at the table kept pace with him and as the night wore on it was clear that someone was going to have to carry him back to the hotel ? and likely onto the Clipper the next morning. Toward the end of the evening, Indiana climbed to his feet and struggled to gain his balance. Woozy from one-too-many whiskeys, he fell in behind Madame Sinn?s small entourage. Just as the group was about to leave the clearing several figures broke from the shadows and closed in around the path. At first, Indiana assumed that these were some of the performers from earlier in the evening. But before he could assess the situation, he was struck from behind and knocked hard to the ground.

For a second, Indiana lay on the ground and tried to collect himself. He heard several sharp reports -- pistol fire. Digging the palms of his hands into the sand, Indiana lifted his throbbing head to see that two men dressed in blue jumpers had gotten the jump on Madam Sinn?s entourage and were pulling her off into the dark grove.
 
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Joe Brody

Well-known member
VP or Aaron,

Help. Could I get this thread re-ordered and cleaned up to help readability?

I was hoping that my post (or at least the first two paragraphs) from my post from March 7 could be bumped to the top with the caption 'Introduction' (this is the post that starts "In 1936 .. . ." Immediately below the introduction would be Chapter 1. Then Ideally, could the posts with the actual text of the story be compressed so that they are back to back? I note that there are a couple of other posters on this thread but I think the story will read better if the text is adjoined.

Any help would be appreciated. Thanks.

Incidentally, I read my prior post regarding the fiction contest and I don't want to be mis-interpreted. I think the contest is a great idea and I'm offering my story as a way to highlight other possible (short or not so short) red line stories that could be the basis for other fan fiction. As for me not participating in the contest, I'm not a competitive person (most likely because I've never won anything in my life).
 
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Canyon

Well-known member
Joe, I have only one thing to say about your story...










...."It's good. It's very very good." :D
 

Indy Parise

New member
Very good, congrats. You deserve a congratulation, like what I just said....I kinda lost my train of thought......oh i remember................
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
Chapter 3
[First half]

What was left of the luau crowd dispersed and ran toward the system hotel. Indiana Jones climbed to his feet, pulled a still-flaming spear from the ground and took off into the darkness in pursuit of Madam Sinn. As he ran he fought to shake off the whiskey's hold. He counted five fleeing figures. Two were the men in jumpers who flanked Madam Sinn. Each captor held the actress by clasping her upper arm. One carried a gun in his free hand. Ranging somewhat ahead were two others, also in mechanic's jumpsuits.

Just as Indy sensed other runners in the trees around him, he saw one of the captors veer to the side, stop and kneel. He raised a pistol and fired back at the pursuers. Indiana kept running but shifted his hold on the spear to a single hand and kept the flame as far from his body as possible. One of the men seated behind Madam Sinn at the Luau run up on Indy's right and returned fire. His equally expressionless companion came up on Indiana's opposite side. Both remained intent on their quarry ahead. The three closed on the shooter, who rapidly fired round after round to no avail. With six yards to spare -- and Indiana Jones preparing to use the spear as a weapon -- the shooter finally took a fatal round to the throat -- shot by the man beside Indy. Without pausing the three kept up the pursuit, with the men who Indiana Jones took to be Madam Sinn's bodyguards falling into stride with him.

Madam's Sinn's captors broke free of the grove out onto a service road that ran along a large Navy warehouse. The captors turned and ran down the road. Hit with a sudden realization Indiana Jones stopped. Abandoning the pursuit, he turned and ran into the grove back toward the Pan American compound. He heaved at the exertion, impaired by the alcohol. Unsteady, he sprawled to the ground where he threw-up in violent retches. Disgusted he got to his feet and continued his mad dash. When he broke back into the clearing he saw Madam Sinn's dour dinner companion still on his knees and holding his head. He was a smallish man with a thin mustache. His suit was untucked and blood had run down the side of his face.

"Follow me if you want to save Sinn!? Indiana bellowed as he ran full speed across the empty luau clearing. Sinn?s companion looked back toward the grove but followed Indiana Jones. Indiana Jones hurtled some bushes and ran down toward the floating dock. Nearly tripping on his own feet upon hitting the deck he regained his footing and made a final mad dash to the end where he made a frenzied effort to remove the mooring line on a small motorboat. After he jumped in he wedged the spear beside his seat. He started the engine as Sinn?s companion climbed to his side.

?We?re on an island,? Indian shouted as he turned the boat out toward the harbor. ?The men who took Madame Sinn had to be making for a boat.?

Gasping still, Sinn?s companion could only nod his acknowledgment. From inside his jacket he pulled out a pistol and began scanning the harbor. Indy headed the boat out along the shore of Ford Island in the direction of Madam?s Sinn?s capters. A cool breeze helped clear Indy?s head as he scanned both the shore and the harbor for small craft.

The Pan Am launch traveled past the grove toward the large navy yard where Indiana left the chase. There were no boats tied to the warf nor any craft out on the water. Indiana Jone's companion alternated between scanning the shore and casting a doubtful eye twoard Indy. Just as Indiana throttled down, a motorboat leapt out from behind a pier, headed toward open water. Indiana opened the throttle and moved to intercept.

Nosing toward the fleeing motorboat, Indiana saw Sinn seated in the front beside one of her captors who piloted the craft. In the next row sat a second captor who was turned back prepared to fire his pistol.

The gap closed even as the Pan Am launch jumped over the motorboat's wake. Sinn's captor opened fire. Indiana's companion raised his gun to respond -- but Indiana lashed out and pulled down the man's arm. "Are you crazy?!? At the rate we're moving you're just as likely to hit Sinn!"

[Not the best place to stop, I know -- but I'm posting it because of the kind words -- which I really appreciate.]
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
End of Chapter 3. . . .

Gunshots rang from the escaping craft causing Indiana Jones to decelerate ? and weave the boat back and forth across the lead craft?s wake. Spray mixed with the blood on the face of Sinn's dinner companion. He glared up at Indy as he reached down to retrieve the pistol. Indiana shook his head, shouted, ?Take the wheel! I?ll get Sinn!?

Glaring still, the man nodded and shifted behind the wheel. Indiana grabbed the gun from the deck and tucked it in the back of his pants. He then took the spear and readied himself to leap to the other craft by crouching on the right side of the boat. Indiana's loose floral print shirt flapped like a flag as the distance closed on his quarry.

?Come On!!! Get us alongside!? Indiana shouted.

Indiana?s wheelman steered toward the port side of the fleeing craft. The sporadic gun fire had ceased, but the gunman stood ready in the rear of the boat -- braced to repel Indiana. Each time the boats came close, the fleeing craft peeled away to starboard before Indiana could jump. Both boats veered toward Ford Island and closed on the shore. At the last instant the fleeing motor boat cut back hard to port in a desperate attempt to break free. To Indiana's dismay, Sinn's dinner companion kept his course -- clearly intent on ramming the veering craft.

The boats collided, splintering the hull of the escaping motor boat. Indiana was thrown back but stayed afoot by grabbing the windscreen. Not wanting to miss an opportunity Indiana pulled himself forward and launched himself into space. He landed in the rear of the wrecked boat -- using the spear as a third point of contact on the uneven deck. As he swayed, the gunman pulled back and cracked the butt of his pistol on Indiana?s head. Indiana staggered -- but instinctively pushed forward into the gunmen's midsection causing the assailant to topple into the water. Anticipating an attack from the man in the front seat, Indy immediately sought to turn but was again struck on the head. He tumbled over the side into the water.

For several moments all Indiana could do was flail about and attempt to gain the surface. Eventually he broke through, gasping for breath. Water filled Indy's eyes, hindering his vision. He kicked back toward the wrecked motor boat and grabbed the side. The boat gave as he tried to pull himself up -- clear evidence that the boat was sinking fast. Before Indiana could register what was happening onboard he was pulled back into the water from behind.

Indiana Jones spun as he sank. Still feeling hands upon him, Indiana lashed out -- kicking and grabbing at his attacker. A savage kick found home and Indy used the leverage to regain the surface. After a beat, the dazed attacker surfaced -- Indiana kicked hard to give maximum leverage to a hard right that he brought down straight into the attacker's face. The attacker moaned slightly and went limp. Indiana turned back to find only the Pan Am launch bobbing in waves. Then not eight feet from him, Indiana registered a body floating face down, with the spear thrust clean through the torso. Repulsed, Indiana reflexively kicked away from the corpse.

A man who Indy took to be Sinn's dinner companion, now dripping wet, climbed back into the Pan Am Launch. Indiana cast around -- searching for Sinn. After nearly treading water in a full circle he saw her swimming for shore. Indiana swam to her side. As he closed, Sinn's swimming became more frenzied as she attempted to increase her pace.

Indiana swam along side, shouted, "Madam Sinn."

She refused to stop. Too dazed to do much else, Indiana kept pace as Madam Sinn cut a determined path toward shore. Both swimmers pulled up as the Pan Am launch headed them off and idled to a stop.

Instead of making for the boat, Sinn turned away. Indiana reached out to stop her but she jerked free. Shaking his head in consternation, Indy reached out and wrapped his arm around her torso. She was shaking uncontrollably but offered no resistance. With powerful kicks he made toward the boat where Sinn's dinner companion helped to pull her aboard. Indiana collapsed on the deck, exhausted.

Sinn's companion stood in front of Indiana. "Where is my gun?"

Indiana put a hand to the small of his back. "I must have lost it. What do you say we take care of Madam Sinn first? She's really shaken up."

?You lost my gun.?

Indiana leaned forward and sneered. ?Deal with it.?

Indiana turned away and began lifting the seats and looking in compartments. He found a thick blanket and wrapped it around the shivering Madam Sinn. Lights from two approaching motor boats -- likely police launches -- were on the harbor. "Look, it's going to be a late night," said Indiana Jones. "Why don't you just get us back to the hotel? I'm beat."

[Man, I just did not want to write the rest of that chapter -- and what I have now is just servicable at best. I've got some exposition-type stuff in the next chapter that I've been itching to get to, so hopefully I'll get to it sooner rather than later.]
 

Joe Brody

Well-known member
Chapter 4
[the first part, anyway]


The timely departure of the Philippine Clipper the next morning was a testament to Pan Am efficiency ? polite but deliberate stewards rapped at the guests? hotel room doors an hour before take-off and diligently stood at the ready, quick to move the guests along at every opportunity. Still badly addled and fatigued from lack of sleep, Indiana Jones let himself be hurried on board by an insistent steward. One by one the other passengers took their seats. An agitated Grieves paced the length of the cabin, anxiously checking his watch. When it came time for departure, he grabbed a steward and said, ?Go find Mr. Richter.?

The steward rushed for to the door where he collided with the sullen-faced man, who was badly disheveled and gasping for breath.

Grieves helped the sullen-faced man to his feet. ?Mr. Richter, we were worried about you ? in fact we feared you lost after you failed to return from Honolulu last night.?

Ignoring Grieves, Richter cast an angry wild eye around the cabin. His tie was undone and a wrinkled shirttail hung at his side. ?What!?! Why is everyone looking at me??

Richter pushed his way past Grieves and collapsed into a seat at the back of the cabin. Slightly amused by the small man?s antics, Indiana cracked a smile and pulled his fedora down over his brow.

As soon as the plane was airborne, Reverend Andrews, a puffy-eyed Madam Sinn ? who kept her gaze averted from Indiana ? and a badly hung-over Lucien Lake retreated to curtained sleeping berths in the mid-section of the plane. The remainder of the passengers shuffled to the lounge for breakfast, and Andy Solemn again broke away to bring coffee to Indiana Jones.

?Dr. Jones? Indiana?

Indiana Jones set his fedora aside and rubbed his eyes.

?I heard about last night when I got down to the plane this morning,? said Solemn. ?but I couldn?t get to you because you were in with the police. You?re looking mighty pale . . . .You will have to let me get you a blanket. It?ll be getting might cold as we head north to Midway.?

Indiana smiled, shifted in the seat and grimaced. ?I?ve been better but I?ll survive. I?m trying to decide what hurts more: the blows I took to my head ? or my hangover.

Andy grinned. ?Well I say it?s a good sign that you can tell them apart.?

?I suppose ? but I am in shock over the police letting me and Sinn?s entourage take off this morning. We left a couple of corpse?s back there and I thought for sure I was going to be held back.?

?Well,? replied Andy. ?I?d say that you?d have old Mr. Grieves to thank for your being on this flight. The way I heard it he sent a cable off the second you got back with Madam Sinn. Within an hour he gets a reply that he gives to the police. One of the detectives makes a call and that was it ? no one was going to be held back. Who did Grieves call, the Governor??

Disgusted, Indiana said, ?If only it were that simple. I know exactly who Grieves cabled.? Indy shook his head. ?God-Dammit!?

Indiana stopped short. At the portal to the cabin stood a raven-faced nine or ten year old girl with light brown hair ? she smiled up at Indiana, amused by his embarrassment. Standing behind the girl, with one hand on her shoulder, stood Grieves, who looked more than a little annoyed.

?Dr. Jones. I?d like you to meet my daughter, Gwen.?

?Pleased to meet you Gwen,? replied Indiana Jones returning the smile.

?My father says that you?re a hero ? that you rescued Madam Sinn from being kidnapped last night.?

Indiana shook his head. ?I?m no hero. . . .?

Andy leaned forward. ?Don?t you listen to this false modesty Miss Grieves . . .. old Indiana here is the genuine article ? no doubt about it.?

Indiana tensed and Mr. Grieves leaned forward. ??Indiana? did you say? I thought your name was Henry??

Indy looked sheepish. ?My given name is Henry . . . .?

?But you use the name Indiana . . . .Indiana Jones?? continued Grieves with an odd intensity.

Indy nodded.

?How strange,? said Grieves. ?I know that name from somewhere.?

?Oh father, who cares about a nickname?? chuckled Gwen.

?Heh!? Indy feigned being hurt. ?Who said anything about a nickname??

?Well I?m sure it?s nothing,? said Greives. ?Again, thank you for everything last night.

"Lucky break . . . this flight not being delayed," said Indiana.

Grieves shifted on his feet. "Yes quite. I assume it was a pretty cut and dry attempt at kidnapping a celebrity."

"Did the police ever get the guy I left unconcious in the harbor?" asked Indiana Jones.

"Not to my knowledge. I know only three bodies were recovered . . . but we can discuss that later." Greives again put his hand on Gwen's shoulder.

"I understand," replied Indiana.

"Good. I?m sure you need your rest. Andy -- see to Dr. Jones?s needs.?

"Yes sir, Mr. Greives."

True to Andy?s word, the cabin turned chilly several hours into the flight and the weather turned foul -- simply adding to the misery on the plane. The walls of the plane turned cold, and the cabin fell dark due to the dark clouds that enveloped the plane. For the remainder of the long, turbulent flight north, Indiana battled a splitting headache and persistent nausea. The bumpy decent into Midway was welcome relief.
 
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Joe Brody

Well-known member
[Chapter 4's a long one so here's another short segment.]

As the Philippine Clipper taxied through heavy rain to the pier, the passengers crowded the dim rear of the aircraft. Stewards ? fagged from an arduous all-day flight ? helped passengers don rain slickers. Once the plane was secured to the dock, a crewman opened the rear top hatch and the passengers started to deplane.

Andy Solemn helped a stiff Indiana Jones with his coat. ?Have no worries if you?re still under the weather Dr. Jones. Midway has the cure ? this island has the best food you?ll get anywhere ? you wouldn?t believe all the great fish they catch here, massive Blue Marlin, lobster, Kahala ? you name it. I have not had a single repeat on a meal in all my time here . . . and the vegetables they grow here are as fresh as fresh can be . . . .?

Indiana cast a skeptical eye at Solemn. ?Fresh vegetables? On this glorified sand bar??

?Yes sir, they grow them here special in hydroponics greenhouses. No soil ? all the plants grow on cord suspended from the ceiling. The plants never even touch the ground. You should check out the greenhouses if you get a chance.?

?I?ll do that Andy, thanks.? With that Indiana Jones started to climb up the ladder steps out of the aircraft. ?I?ll see you tomorrow.?

Andy stepped forward into the rain falling in from the hatch and called up, ?And you take care of yourself.?

Out on the deck a clerk -- desperately trying to stay dry under an old massive umbrella ? called out, ?Henry Jones! Telegram for Henry Jones!?

Looking like a drowned rat hunched under the wing of the Clipper, Richter perked up suddenly at the announcement. He fixed on Indiana Jones through steamy rain-soaked glasses as Indiana made his way across the dock.

Under the cover of the umbrella, Indy broke the seal of the telegram. It came from Art Weber ? a trusted friend and Shanghai?s airport dispatcher ? providing information on connecting arrangements for the next leg of the journey to Nepal on Imperial Airlines. Indiana placed the telegram in his breast pocket, tipped the clerk and turned back into the rain.

Two Woodies had been backed on to the dock to transport the guests to the system hotel. The large station wagons were equipped with oversized wheels to navigate Midway?s white sand. Out of courtesy to the other passengers, Indy dashed to the further vehicle and climbed into the back seat. He was mildly surprised when moments later Nina ? the attractive black-haired Australian ? climbed in the opposite side and slid across the seat so that she sat flush with Indiana.

Nina smiled. ?It?ll be a tight fit to get everyone into two cars.?

?Lucky for me,? responded Indiana Jones.

Casting a sideways glance, Nina unabashedly eyed Indy. With a coy smile she said, ?I?m trying to figure you out. Last night at the luau you were talking like a teacher ? but from what I hear you sure don?t act like one ? so what is it? A teacher or something more??

?Both. I am a teacher and, as you say, I?m ?something more.??

Nina shifted slightly to lock eyes with Indy and in doing so her thigh pressed against Indy?s leg. ?No, no. That?s not going to cut it ? what?s your story??

Indy dropped his gaze, chuckled ? but before he could respond Lucien Lake collapsed into the rear seat beside Nina.

?My Lord, what a monsoon,? said Lake. ?I think perhaps we should all be better off sleeping on the plane tonight as the hotel is liable to float off into the Pacific.?

?Well the plane does have a stocked bar. . . .? quipped Nina.

?. . . . . that is only surpassed by the bar at the system Hotel,? said Grieves as he helped his daughter climb into the middle of the front seat. Grieves settled into the front passenger seat. ?Just hold on tight everyone. We?ll get drinks with dinner just as soon as some of the bags are transferred.?

[Author's note: What's this? The author's favorite character from Temple of Doom has information on Indiana Jone's itinerary? Boy, I sure hope nothing bad happens to good old Mr. Weber . . . .]
 
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