Chapters 1-2 of Indiana Jones and the Curse of Rhan

[ Reply ] [ The Indyfan Forum ] [ FAQ ]

Posted by Goodsport from adsl-216-102-199-185.dsl.snfc21.pacbell.net on June 23, 2000 at 02:46:28:


Chapter 1


---by Muppet


Boston - 1956


    Indiana Jones was dead.

    In his place stood Henry Jones, Jr. A respectable man in a neat white suit, wearing small glasses and carrying the day's edition of the Boston Times. The only trace of his adventurous past his fedora, which although battered and torn, sat at an angle on his head.

    "...and next week the myth of Excalibur..."

    For once, Indiana - as he was rarely called these days - left the classroom first, surprising his students who were eager to leave themselves. He scuttled down the corridor of the college, reaching a door with a frosted glass window, with the name "Anthony Brody" written across it. Knocking once, Indy entered the room.

    "Good morning, Ind...Henry"

    "Morning, Anthony"

    "Finished class already?"

    "I dismissed myself" smiled Indy, sitting down opposite Anthony's desk. As he sat down, he said to Anthony "I take it there's no exciting news today?"

    Anthony smirked. "Is there ever?" asked Indy

    "Not like the old days, eh?"

    "The old days?" Indy grinned. "Watch who you're calling old". Indy stood up. "But if you want to explore the world, go ahead. I've done my fair share"

    "And miss out on these thrilling essays?" asked Anthony, waving a bundle of papers marked with thick red D minuses in the air.

    "See you later, old man" joked Anthony.

    As Indy shut the door behind him, he thought about what Anthony had said. "The old days". Suddenly, a memory; a flashback, hit him...


* * * * *


Egypt - 1936


    Indiana Jones wiped the sweat from his forehead. For a moment - a brief second - he had time to get his breath back. Being chased through the desert was not his idea of a fun life.

    When he had stepped off the boat at Cairo, he had a simple aim; to find and explore the ancient pyramid of the Pharaoh Kanuiis. A simple enough quest - if the pyramid was indeed the hiding place for the Kanuiis Manuscript; said to hold the true history of the pyramids.

    What a prize that would be.

    It would make Indy the most famous archaeologist in the world - and provide him with the funds for more expeditions - at least under Indy's guidance the artifacts would wind up in museums rather than the back pockets of greedy grave robbers.

    With money and lies and sheer luck, Indy had travelled to the site of a small cluster of pyramids outside of Giza for next to nothing. Armed only with his whip, his gun and his quick-thinking, Indy had entered the pyramids.

    But now Indy was trapped. His exploration had been discovered, and the man who found him had a twenty-strong team of locals racing after Indy. The situation no longer seemed worth dying for.

    The manuscript had been a hoax. It didn't exist. All Indy found were dead kings and ancient dust. Indy could have taken the disappointment, had it not been for the fact that someone now wanted him dead.

    That someone was Rene Belloq. A once-useful archaeologist, Belloq had quite easily crossed the line and descended into the life of a professional grave robber; raping the past and selling the discoveries he made.

    Belloq and his band of locals - twenty in total - had chased Indy into the pyramid where he was now hiding. Maybe he had given them the slip, thought Indy, but outside he heard footsteps and voices.

    Rene Belloq, dressed inappropriately for the heat in a loose beige shirt and trousers, ordered his men to wait at the opening of the pyramid in which Indy was hiding. Loading his revolver, Belloq declared that "Jones is mine", and ventured into the depths of the pyramid of Kanuiis.

    The pyramid was dark, but Belloq could make out the walls of the corridors and large rooms. He could not, however, see Indiana Jones. He was crouched behind a large rectangular tomb.

    "Come out, come out, Jones, wherever you are"

    Silence.

    "There's no escape, Jones"

    Silence.

    Indy was trying to keep as quiet as possible, hiding behind the tomb. But the spider crawling across the top of the tomb had other ideas.

    Moments later, it fell onto Indy's hat. With a reflex action, Indy took his hat off, throwing the spider into the distance.

    Even the small sound that it created was enough to alert Belloq, who ran to the entrance to the room in which Indy was hiding. Belloq saw a sqaure room, with a tomb in the middle.

    He knew Indy was in here. "I may only let you live if you show yourself". Indy had no choice. Slowly, he crawled upwards, emerging from behind the tomb into the line of Belloq's revolver, which was aimed at him already.

    Belloq was too far away from Indy to be able to make a move, so Indy had to play it safe.

    "Want to let me go?" asked Indy.

    "You're far too trusting, Jones. I lied". Belloq had Indy right where he wanted him; ready to kill him. Rene talked, but all the way kept his revolver aimed at Indy, ready to shoot if Indy should make the slightest movement.

    "Do you know why the Egyptians built these magnificent buildings?" Belloq asked.

    "Boredom?"

    "How amusing, Jones. They were tombs. When the great kings died, this is where they were buried. All the ancients rest in peace here."

    "Fascinating...you should be a teacher"

    "You are the one who chose the mundane life, Jones. You could have had it all"

    Indiana Jones laughed out loud.

    "You think my wealth, my success if funny? You are a very confused man, Jones...but I will now make your next decision for you," Belloq grinned. "I would very much like it for you to be buried here with the great kings..."

    Then there was a loud gush of wind outside. It was horrific. A strong gust that rocketed through the cracks and the walls of the pyramids, creating an almost unbearable wail. It died down moments later, giving Belloq to chance to continue. "The wind is picking up...I should get back to Cairo as soon as possible" said Belloq.

    "Why don't you just kill me then?"

    "Truly you have no culture, Jones. I like to make sure I am doing something worthwile. I like to know that you are scared of dying...it makes it much more satisfying".

    Cries, shouts, wails suddenly sounded.

    It was coming from outside. Belloq turned, off-guard. Those voices belonged to his men. He ran down the dark corridor, to the light at the mouth of the pyramid. There he saw his men; the locals, running away. Translating their cries, Belloq understood their cries to mean that the wailing wind noise had been interpreted as a warning from Kanuiis - they were running home. "Fools!" snapped Belloq.

    "Just you and me now, Belloq. I prefer those odds".

    "What...?" asked Belloq, turning around. But as he turned, his face was met with the butt of Indy's gun, which swung down, knocking Belloq to the floor, out cold. The manuscript may have been a hoax, but Belloq still wanted Indy dead.

    Emerging outside into the sun once more, Indy thought he was safe with the local men gone. But he remembered one small problem - his lift home, Mullah, was a local too. Indy watched as a frightened Mullah and his camels rode off into the distance. Indy knew that Belloq would wake up soon, and hurridely glanced round. There had to be something to escape in. There was.

    A truck was parked nearby. It was being guarded by a heavy-set man wielding a gun. This was going to be tricky. Indy didn't know how he was going to get the truck without being seen...so he didn't try to conceal himself. "Excuse me..." he shouted, approaching the truck.
    The man turned quickly, lifting his gun.

    "Wait..." shouted Indy.

    The man shouted something in Arabic to Indy. He didn't understand, but by the man's actions could see that he wanted him to stop.

    Indy stopped.

    The man kept shouting, kept his gun aimed at Indy. He started pointing at Indy's gun. He wanted Indy to drop it onto the sandy floor. Indy's hands lowered. One hand was about to take hold of the gun and drop it. The other was about to take hold of the whip on Indy's belt. The man shouted again.

    "All right! All right! Pushy people" muttered Indy.

    He took the gun out of its holster and threw it to the floor. The truck guard grinned, and was about to pull the trigger on his own gun, when suddenly Indy grabbed the whip, cracking it forwards.

    It wrapped around the guard's hand. Indy pulled the whip back quickly, the gun flew into the distance, lost in the sand. The man raced up to Indy, fists ready to right.

    "Let's not get violent" said Indy.

    The man shouted at him, furious.

    "Now wait a minute..."

    The man, clearly enraged, shouted again.

    Indy didn't understand. "Should have studied Arabic better" thought Indy.

    The man grabbed Indy's shirt collar, shaking him violently. Indy gave up patience, and with a sharp right hook, knocked the shouting man out. "Boring conversation anyway"

    Indy rifled through the man's pockets, taking out the truck keys. He quickly clambered inside, trying to start the engine.

    It whirred pathetically...nothing.

    In the wing mirror, Indy could see Belloq's distant figure rapidly approaching; he was awake. Indy turned the engine over again with the keys; silence.

    Belloq loaded his gun.

    Sweating now, Indy started hitting the dashboard. "Come on, you heap of junk!". All the time, Belloq was getting nearer and nearer.

    Indy turned the keys again.

    Belloq pulled the trigger on his revolver.

    The truck started - at last! - and shot off with an amazing speed. The bullets from Belloq's gun missing their target and ripping through the truck's canopy. Laughing manically, Indy raced back to Giza. Belloq could only watch as Indiana Jones disappeared into the distance; he'd escaped.


* * * * *


    Indiana Jones sat down in the professor's lounge, helping himself to a coffee. Enough reminiscing of places seen, people met, death escaped, for one day; at least he would never be in such a situation again.

    When Marcus died, it was as if he took Indy's adventuring spirit with him. The Ark, the Grail, Marcus had helped out on Indy's greatest adventures; without him Indy's enthusiasm had dwindled.

    As he flicked mindlessly through the Times, something caught Indy's eye. Peeling the page back, he saw an article headed "ARCHAELOGIST ANNOUNCES MAJOR EXPEDITION". It seemed that a motley crue had assembled itself to set out and loacte the fabled Temple Of Rhan; the resting place of an ancient cult leader said to have wielded great powers. The sort of thing a younger Indy might have gone after too, had he been in shape and willing. Better to leave the adventures to those fools that wanted to follow rumours and maps, trails to buried treasure.

    Just as Indy was about to flick over the papers of the Times once more and get back to work, the last line of the article seemed to spring off the page. Its words small, printed - to Indy they were as large and life and twice as bold. "Leading the expedition..." the sentence began.

    It was the concluding two words that kept Indy focused; kept him staring at the page.

    Two words, one name:

    Louis Belloq.


*************************


Chapter 2


---by Muppet


Palma, Majorca - 1954


    "It's worthless"

    "What?"

    "Absolutely worthless"

    The old man sighed, "I see...so how much?"

    "5000 thousand pesetas. Take it or leave it"

    "I'll have to take it" The old man slowly accepted the 5000 pesetas, handed over the item to the tall, slender gentleman dealing with him, and muttered something in Spanish.

    "It was a pleasure doing business with you"

    "Si, si," muttered the old man, walking away.

    Louis Belloq grinned. The item in his hand wasn't worthless. It was a rarity; evidence of a historic fable that was a clue towards one of history's myths; the Temple Of Rhan.

    This was the stuff of legends. Of glory. Louis Belloq resisted cackling with glee. He was indeed a tall, thin man, with a refined appearance. Only 30 years old, Louis was already more mature than his father had been.


* * * * *


    Louis had been born the son of Rene Belloq and a desperate woman in the depths of Paris. Rene, selfish to the last, had not supported Louis, but this drove Louis to make something of himself. By the time he was 25, Louis was a scholar in archaeology and history. He had even tracked down his father, and - rather than fighting - the two had found a common bond; avarice and selfishness.

    The times when they worked together were rare, but the contacts Rene gave his son, the people he introduced him to and the places he told him to go, things he told him to find and sell at the highest price; these were all trademarks of what Louis saw as a great father. Rene had taught Louis to work for only one person; himself, and that had helped Louis throughout the years. Despite his tall, thin figure, Louis was a strong, often violent man, although he preferred any killing - if it was necessary - to be done by someone else.

    However, growing up on the streets of Paris, mugging and stealing his way through his teenage years, Louis knew he needed 'protection'. Something to scare those who weren't moved by Louis' words alone.

    That was where Kas came in. Kas was a silent, burly-framed man who said little and did plenty. Louis had saved Kas from jail with some smooth-talking and a handful of francs, and Kas had remained resolutely loyal ever since.

    Kas was a menace; a fat, glowering beast of a man with shaved black hair, a thick face and a tall, shadowing body. He would just as soon kill as get to know anyone; he did all the 'dirty little jobs' like murder and assault that Louis was too refined for.

    But Louis always promised himself that one time, he would do the killing. There was one person he wanted dead, one person who had murdered his father. Ever since his father's disappearance had been 'officially' reported by the U.S. government, Louis had clutched at false leads and uptight officials, trying to find out exactly what had happened to Rene.

    Louis knew of Rene's quest to find the Ark of the Covenant. That was all he knew. Had Rene found it? Who knew? If anyone did, they were certainly keeping quiet. But Louis wanted to know who or what had caused his father's disappearance and death...and when Louis found out, he would kill them. "A killing for a killing" mused Louis.


* * * * *


    At the present time, August 12th, 1954, Kas stood behind Louis on the dockside in Palma, Majorca. In Louis' hands was the item that the old man had handed over for a pitiful amount of money. Louis knew it was worth more than he paid for it; but that was all part of the game.

    "Glorious..." said Louis, holding the item up. It was a round, scroll-like piece of ancient paper; brittle and faded, but still readable. Depicted on it were pictures of temples, strange happenings; what looked like occult gatherings, definitely pictures of worship.

    Written above and below each of the pictures was a form of lettering; it was clearly a 'secret code'; a language only known to a few people, one devised so that whatever message was written on the paper could never unwillingly be deciphered.

    Louis knew that the paper told of how to reach the fabled Temple of Rhan. What most sensible archaeologists saw as myth and refused to investigate, Louis had pursued. It was not the fortune and glory that Louis strived, no, it was the sheer power that Rhan represented that Louis desired.

    "Did you get it?"

    Louis turned to see Grundman; a small, ageing man, resting on a cane. He had greying hair, but a certain vitality that was ever-present.

    "Of course I got it"

    "I hope you didn't pay too much...these peasants aren't worth it" snapped Grundman.

    Grundman was a bitter old man. He had been a Nazi Commander, but with the end of the war and with the Third Reich crumbling all around Hitler, Grundman had fled. A self-preservationist to the last, Grundman had used money and contacts to hide his identity. However, his views, his ability to kill in cold blood and his sick enjoyment of doing so were all testament to the fact that no matter how often he changed his name, Grundman was a Nazi.

    "I don't even like it here. I'm sweating. Only peasants sweat" Grundman hissed.

    Louis laughed. "My dear commander, relax"

    "Relax?"

    "This is only the beginning"

    "I am sick of waiting! When will we find the Temple of Rhan, Belloq? When?!"

    Louis contemplated it. "One year, perhaps two...but we will find it!" he smiled.

    "What makes you so sure?" snapped Grundman.

    "What makes you so unsure?" countered Louis. "My father was an archaeologist; an explorer and a skilled businessman of the highest order. I modestly claim to possess those skills too..." Louis Belloq exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke. "We will find Rhan"

    "And will we share what we find?"

    Louis didn't respond.

    "I don't know if I can trust you, Louis"

    After a pause, Louis cleared his throat, and said "Do you want to find Rhan?"

    Grundman stuttered, confused. "Of course..."

    "Well...you'll just have to trust me, won't you?"


* * * * *


The Falcon Hotel, Malta - almost midnight


    Louis Belloq was now asleep. The paper that spoke of the Temple of Rhan was safely locked away inside a leather briefcase, sat atop Louis' bedside table.

    Outside, in the corridor, Kas kept guard. His burly frame obscured the door into Louis' room, and the silent menace eyed everyone with suspicion; even an innocent-looking 20 year old who passed by.

    But right now, that innocent 20 year old was outside, in the gardens of the Falcon Hotel. He was Ernesto, the son of the peasant from whom Louis had bought the Rhan paper.

    Ernesto surveyed the walls of the hotel; Louis' room was the only one with a balcony. This was going to be tricky. Having seen the burly man in the hallway, Ernesto knew he was no match for him. His father wanted the scroll back, but Ernesto wasn't willing to put his life on the line for it. No, he'd sneak into the room from the balcony and take it back quietly, without a fight.

    Ernesto observed the walls of the hotel. Up to the first floor was a wooden panel; thick vines up after that to the third floor and the balcony of the room he was trying to get to. Ernesto easily made it up the shaky wooden panel, then held on to the thick vines as he made his way further up the wall. A few snapped, giving way, but in a
    few minutes, he was clambering onto the balcony.

    Luckily, the balcony doors leading into the room were open. He could see a man lying on the bed, asleep. It was the same man who his father had told him paid next to nothing for the scroll.

    Ernesto crept slowly into the room. He saw nothing, just a suitcase.

    The man flinched. Ernesto paused, waiting for the man to go back to sleep. He did, rolling onto his side. Ernesto crept further into the room, he eventually got to the bedside table and the suitcase.

    He tried flicking the case open, but it was stuck. Locked. "The old ways are still the best ways" thought Ernesto, taking out a knife and attacking the locks of the briefcase with it. One lock sprang open. Louis Belloq moved.

    Quickly, Ernesto flicked the other locked, throwing the case open. He saw the scroll, and snatched it. No time to lose. Ernesto raced back to the balcony.

    Louis woke up. Ernesto had almost made it.

    "What?!" shouted Louis.

    Ernesto, panicking, disappeared from the balcony, crawling back down the vines as fast as he could.

    The doors of Louis' room flew open.

    "You idiot! It's been stolen!"

    Kas surveyed the corridor, seeing nothing.

    "Not inside, you idiot! Outside!" Louis frantically pointed to the balcony, which Kas raced over to. He saw Ernesto scrambling through the gardens of the hotel, racing towards the town centre.

    With a mighty jump, Kas leapt from the balcony, surprisingly agile for such a heavy-set thug. He hit the grass with a thud, but hardly seemed affected. Instead, he immediately set off after Ernesto. He didn't run; he charged, grunting.

    Ernesto ran as fast as he could; he glanced behind to see the hotel in the distance. He saw the burly guard, who had now dropped from the balcony and was stomping through the hotel gardens. Kas pushed his way through the trees and bushes that had taken Ernesto time to get through. He was catching up fast.

    Ernesto reached the wall around the hotel. With one majestic leap, he got hold of the top of the wall, starting to haul himself over. Kas was almost there. Ernesto was nearly free. Just as he prepared to
    descend the wall on the other side, he felt a hand grab his foot - Kas had caught him, and was pulling him back over the wall.

    Ernesto felt himself going backwards. He struggled, and managed to writhe his shoe loose, giving him the opportunity to finally escape. Kas, angered, easily hauled himself over the wall. He stormed after Ernesto, who ducked into an alleyway by the side of a noisy bar. Kas saw this, and followed him down the small alley. And found nothing.

    Ernesto had disappeared. Kas grunted, and proceeded slowly down the alley. As he neared the end of the alley, from the trash cans sprang Ernesto, wielding his knife and charging at Kas. Just as the knife was about to jam into Kas' chest, Kas took hold of Ernesto's thin hand, shaking the knife loose. Ernesto tried to move. He couldn't.

    "My father didn't want to sell!" yelled Ernesto, hopelessly trying to say something.

    Kas stared at him.

    "You promised more!"

    Kas didn't react. He simply stuck out his right hand in a claw shape, and wrapped it around Ernesto's neck. He started to lift the struggling Ernesto off the ground.

    "Please...please..." Ernesto said, finding it harder and harder to speak, to breathe.

    Kas kept Ernesto held in the air, until he'd had enough and tightened his grip further. There was a resounding cracking sound as Ernesto's life was taken from him.

    Seeing Ernesto's arms fall to the side of his body, Kas threw the corpse to the floor and slowly, calmly started to search his clothes. Finding the scroll with the Rhan information on it, Kas pocketed it and turned, walking away as if nothing had happened.

    When he returned to the hotel, Louis was relieved to see the scroll in Kas' hands. "Excellent," grinned Louis. "From now on," he said, "anybody who gets in our way... we kill"


*************************





Follow Ups:



Post a Followup:

Name:    
E-Mail:  
Subject: 
Comments:

Optional:

Link URL:   
Link Title: 
Image URL:  


[ Follow Ups ] [ Post Followup ] [ The Indyfan Forum ] [ FAQ ]