Chapter 4 of Indiana Jones and the Golden Spider

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Posted by Goodsport from adsl-216-102-199-185.dsl.snfc21.pacbell.net on January 24, 2000 at 00:58:30:



Chapter 4 - Attempts at Acquisition


---by Short Round & Goodsport


: Short Round turned swiftly, only for the lights in the museum to go out. After a minute or so for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, Short Round found himself facing four imposing, darkly clad figures in the museum's main hallway. The moonlight illuminating through the museum's high window shown on them like a stagelight on a Broadway play. The man closest to Short Round took a step forward.
: "So, you vill tell us vare zee spider eez!" he asked Short Round in an unmistakable German accent.
: Short Round shook his head, wondering if this was all really happening - if it wasn't some kind of bad dream. "Look, I don't know nothin' about any 'Golden Spider'!"
: The lead man pulled out a Mauser pistol from under his black overcoat, pointing it straight at Short Round. "Aaahhh,Öso you do, I see. I only mentioned a spider, but you just called eet by eets real nameÖ zee 'Golden Spider'."
: 'Clicks' were heard from the other three men as they raised their concealed MP-40 submachineguns from under their black overcoats. Needless to say, they were pointing them at Short Round - and that this was no dream.

: - - -

: ALBERTA, CANADA - 1939

: Brett Lambert pursued the horse-drawn carriage for the last several minutes, his horse galloping faster than the wind. The Mountie wondered why the bandits he had been pursuing for the past two years suddenly decided to elude capture on a horse-drawn carriage. Don't they know that it's 1939, not 1839?!? Granted, they were currently away from any major roads in the Alberta frontier - but it still didn't make any sense.
: The rifleman positioned on top of the carriage fired at Lambert. Barely evading the shot, the Mountie returned fire with his pistol and hit the rifleman, who flew off the carriage and onto the ground. Brett Lambert then caught up to the carriage, moved alongside it and jumped onto its back as his horse followed behindÖ as it had been trained to.
: The carriage made a sharp turn just as Brett started climbing to the top of the carriage. Lambert partially lost his grip, hanging onto the top of the carriage with only one hand. His feet brushed against the ground as he hung on for dear life.
: Brett made his way to the top when he saw a low flying branch. He barely flattened himself against the roof of the carriage in time as the branch nearly struck him. Lambert began to relax slightly when bullets shot up through the roof of the carriage, missing him by inches. Brett rolled to the side of the carriage, dodging the bullets as he just braced himself from slipping off. Not noticing its approach, a second tree branch caught the Mountie on his left knee, the pain almost causing him to fall off. He persevered and flattened himself against the side of the carriage.
: Lambert just edged to the other side of the carriage, only to notice (to his horror) a tunnel up aheadÖ which was only wide enough for the carriage. He climbed ahead several inches and flew through the carriage's 'window' right as the darkness of the tunnel engulfed the carriage.
: As the carriage exited the tunnel, Brett found the other three bandits he was looking forÖ right next to him, raising their revolvers. He immediately kneed the nearest outlaw in the stomach and pushed him out through the carriage's 'door'.
: The second bandit raised his revolver at the Mountie, but not in time before Lambert kicked it out of his hand and then swung his foot right up the bandit's groin.
: The third outlaw unsheathed a knife from his boot and lunged at Brett. Lambert caught his arms, flipping the bandit over his shoulder and out the carriage's 'door'.
: The Mountie then quickly scooped up the revolver off the carriage's floor and aimed it at its original owner, who was still recovering from the kick to his groin.
: "I'm good," Brett chuckled, "aren't I?"

: - - -

: Hitching a ride with Louie was a mistake, Indiana John knew. Police detectives usually rode in unmarked cars provided by the department, but his was being repaired after the last assignment. And since he knew that Louie was off-duty, eating doughnuts as usual at Ulla's Doughnut Shop, he also knew that Louie's squad car was the only ride he had. Unfortunately for Indiana John, Louie insisted on driving.
: "Slow down, will ya?" Indiana John scolded as the police car screeched around a corner, "Michaelson wants me to get there in one piece!"
: Louie chuckled, steering the speeding squad car with his left hand as he wolfed down a doughnut with his right.

: "You wanna get there in time or not?" Louie asked with his mouth full, "And in time for what?"
: Indiana John thought to himself, worrying. I'm not sure. But Michaelson seemed intent that I check up on ShortyÖ I wonder what trouble he's gotten himself into this time!

: - - -

: Short Round raised his hands. "Okay, okayÖ I'll show you where the 'Golden Spider' is."
: The lead German raised his Mauser. "Hurry up, then!"
: How can this evening get any worse??? thought Short Round, First the Entomology area is ruined with insects crawling everywhere, then my prized deadly spider escapesÖ and now these goons!
: The museum's curator led the armed Germans down the hall to the DeYoung Museum's Entomology exhibit. Short Round opened the door to the large room crawling with insects. The Germans winced at the sight.
: Short Round turned to them with a sly grin. "What, afraid of some little bugs?"
: "Ov courz not!" the lead German answered, somewhat squeamishly. He raised his Mauser steadily toward Short Round. "Lead uz to eet!"
: Short Round stepped back. "Okay, okay! This way."
: The curator led them to the other side of the room. They all stood underneath a large overhead cupboard made of tinted glass.
: "Here it is, gentlemen," announced Short Round, "I'll now give what's coming to you."
: Short Round reached up, opened the cupboard and quickly jumped to the side. Hundreds upon hundreds of insects poured onto the Germans, almost burying them.
: Short Round dashed for the door. One of the Germans freed his hands and weapon from the pile of insects and fired a burst from his MP-40 at the fleeing curator, barely missing him as the bullets riddled the doorframe.
: "Sheizen!" the four Germans cursed at once as they wriggled to free themselves from the pile of insects.

: - - -

: Brett Lambert sat alone in the corner of The Slapped Face, the bar in town where the Mounties frequented when they were off-duty. The outlaws he caught were finally locked away, and Brett was finally able to relax with a frosty mug of Molson beer in his hand.

: "Brett Lambert?"
: The Mountie looked up to see a fellow Mountie look back down at him.
: "Rob T., is there a problem?"
: The new arrival sat next to Lambert. "Brett, I just got word from HQ. About the carriage you caughtÖ"
: Brett sat up straight. "Yeah, I wondered why the Reggie Gang decided to use a stagecoach. Heck, I wondered why anyone would want to use a stagecoach in this day and age!"
: Rob T. shook his head. "I'm not sure. All we know is that they had recently stolen that carriage from the Edmonton Historical Frontier Museum. So far they're not talking, so we have no motive established as of yet."
: Lambert lifted the mug of Canadian beer to his mouth and took a several large gulps. "Want some beer, eh?"
: Rob T. shook his head again. "No thank you. And another thing about the carriageÖ"
: Brett set down his mug on the table, clearly annoyed. "Can you hurry it up? I'm off-duty, you know!"
: "We found a letter 'E' scratched inside of it. Have you noticed that before?"
: Lambert shook his head. "Nope. I was too busy dodging bullets."
: Rob T. leaned forward. "Do you know what that letter 'E' has to do with anything?"
: "Nope."
: They both felt the wind of the swinging doors on their backs. They both turned around to see fellow Mountie Mack enter The Slapped Face. Mack headed toward the table, stood next to Rob T. and looked down at Brett Lambert.
: "Brett, you're wanted back at HQ. You just got a telephone call from the head police detective in San Francisco."
: Brett's eyes widened instantly as he shot up from his seat. "Michaelson??? What does that bloody Yank want?"
: "Don't know, but you'd better call him back. And the chief at HQ also wants to talk to you about a promotion."
: Both Rob T. and Mack left The Slapped Face, leaving Brett alone there with his mug of Molson.
: A promotion, eh? thought Brett, I'd better head off toward headquarters! He then finished his beer, placed the tip down on the table and exited The Slapped Face.

: - - -

: Short Round ran as fast as he could down the hall before coming to the staircase going down. Dammit! All those insects will cost me a bundle to replace. And where'd my prized deadly spider go? Hearing footsteps from a distance behind him, Short Round jumped and rolled down the cement stairs, the Germans' submachineguns missing him by inches.
: Oh man! the museum's curator winced, glancing up at the bullet holes in the wall, That's REALLY gonna cost me!
: Short Round got up off the floor. Hearing footsteps hit the top of the staircase, he sprinted down the hall and into the nearby Navajo Indian monument section.
: He dived behind a large statue of a Navajo just as two of the Germans entered the room, submachineguns raised and ready.
: Short Round hid tensely behind a Navajo statue, his heart beating so fast that he was afraid the Germans would hear it. He felt the seconds dragging, making him feel hot and clammy. As the two armed Germans cautiously examined the room, Short Round took in a deep breath and attempted to loosen the statue's bow and arrow prop.
: Losing his grip, the bow and arrow fell to slick tiled floor, its landing echoing in the room. The two Germans turned and opened fire on the statue, shredding it to pieces onto the floor. Short Round jumped out from the other end of the monument with a knife belt on him. He took out the two knives in the belt and threw them at the both Germans, hitting them both in the chest. Their bodies crumpled onto the ground, their weapons falling onto the floor near them.
: "Thanks, boot camp!" Shorty grinned to himself, recalling his time with the U.S. Marines five years earlier. He started toward the two dead Germans at the other side of the room when he heard footsteps from just outside the door near them. Noticing an armed shadow just outside of it, Short Round instead exited the door on his side of the room.
: The curator entered the Roman underground sewer exhibit. Darting carefully from one pillar to the next, Short Round was within reach of the museum's exit on the other side of the room.
: That's when he heard the 'click' behind him.
: Swiveling around, Short Round saw the barrel of a submachinegun pointed squarely at him. The German holding it limped forward, sweating profusely.
: "You don't look so good, you damn Kraut!" the curator observed aloud.
: The German coughed loudly, sweat pouring down his face. He aimed his MP-40 at Short Round's chest.
: "Eet eez not MY health zat you should be vorried about, schwein!"
: The museum's curator covered his eyes, preferring not to watch his own death. Instead, he heard a thud hitting tiled floor. Opening his eyes, Short Round saw the German laying on the ground in front of him.
: "Monchichi!" Short Round exclaimed with joy, his prized deadly spider crawling on the back of the dead German's neck, "I've been looking all over for you!"
: The door behind him swung open. "And I you, Herr Round."
: Short Round stood and whirled around to see the lead German pointing his Mauser pistol at him. Short Round threw up his hands.
: "What, you expect me to talk?"
: The German shook his head, grinning gleefully. "Nein. You obviously don't know vhere zee 'Golden Spider' eez. So, I expect you to die!"
: "Whoa!" Short Round gasped for air. He opened his eyes to discover the German on the floorÖ and an unfamiliar man standing outside in the darkness of the night behind the dead German.
: "Hi. Who are you?" Shorty asked, dumbfounded.
: "I'm a detective with S.F.P.D. My name is John. Indiana John." The man extended his right hand, flashing a badge with his left.
: "UhÖ my name is Short Round." Short Round and Indiana John shook hands.
: "It's lucky I came in time."
: "No, I'm lucky you came in time."
: "Michaelson was right, there was some trouble here."
: Indiana John called in more police from Louie's police car while Louie munched on more doughnuts. Several minutes later, more police cars arrived.
: The policemen were cordoning off the museum when a regular car parked among the many police cars already there. Out stepped a tall, mustached man, navigating his way through the thick San Francisco fog toward Short Round and Indiana John as he adjusted his beige overcoat to block off the chill. He introduced himself to Short Round.
: "Hello. I'm Chief Detective Michaelson. I have a few questions to ask you, Mr. Round."

: - - -

: In the freezing water of the bay, Indiana Riggs looked up at the door of the seaplane that he had just leapt from. From what he could see of the plane's lit interior, the floor was still crawling with black widow spiders. The engines of his Clipper were still running, although the seaplane was kept 'anchored' by the chocks keeping it in place.
: Questions raced through his head as he shivered in the water. Who opened that crate of black widows? I had just checked that box half an hour ago!
: As he started swimming back to the plane, he finally noticed two people in diving gear inside his plane. As they both were sweeping away the spiders near them with the fins on their feet, one of them seemed to be fiddling with the plane's controls while the other stood at the doorway, looking out.

: The diver at the door raised a harpoon straight at Indiana Riggs. Shutting his eyes, Riggs braced for the worst.
: "HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!"
: Indiana Riggs opened his eyes to see a familiar figure in a gray fedora and a dark-gray wool overcoat standing at the adjacent dock, aiming a Colt .45 automatic pistol right at the diver. The diver swiveled sideways toward the private investigator and fired. The harpoon barely missed Goodsport, but gave Indiana Riggs just enough time to submerge underwater unnoticed and to swim toward his seaplane. Riggs surfaced right under the door of his plane, noticing that the diver had already gone inside.
: Indiana Riggs lifted himself into the plane and slid forward. He glanced up from the floor, only to see the two divers diving into the water from the door behind him. Riggs stood up to pursue them, but instead discovered black widow spiders all over the floor. He jumped onto the pilot seat, several of the spiders climbing the seat after Riggs in hot pursuit.
: Goodsport appeared in the doorway of the seaplane. "Riggs, you okay in there?" The pilot's face was white with fear, his phobia of spiders overwhelming his ability to answer the private eye.
: "Oh shit!" the private eye surmised, looking down on the spider-covered floor. He quickly removed his overcoat and swung it around the floor, flinging the spiders out the door. Goodsport then took the open box of spiders and heaved it out the door, into the water. After flinging the remaining black widows out of the plane with his overcoat, Goodsport checked the pockets of the coat. Satisfied that his jacket was spiderless, he donned the coat and stepped toward Indiana Riggs.
: "You okay there?" the P.I. asked the pilot, as Riggs stepped down off the seat, "Why were you transporting a box of black widow spiders in the first place?"
: Indiana Riggs glanced at the cargo list hanging on the side of the plane. "I wasn't. IÖ" The seaplane pilot stopped his own sentence short, suddenly alert.
: Goodsport peered at him. "What? What're youÖ"
: Riggs raised his hand to cut Goodsport's sentence off. That was when Goodsport also noticed the ticking from the back of the plane.

: -----



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