Chapter two of Mystery of the Jaguar

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Posted by Dawn Jones Lechner from 131.187.148.38 on June 27, 2000 at 21:57:36:

In Reply to: TIMO......Please read.... posted by Indiana Jimmie on June 27, 2000 at 01:28:45:

Chapter 2

A rather respectable man, wearing a rather out of date tweed suit, was standing in the terminal, impatiently glancing at his pocket watch every eight or so minutes. It had been a long flight, and the delay had set back many plans he had to admit but, this. . . this was apalling. In all his years of travel no one had stood him up this late.
Yes he was tired, and yes he was hungry. He had no doubt he was among many with the same dilimma but HE had a purpose. HE was supposed to have a ride.
Again he checked the time, 12:06. Six minutes after midnight. How long had he been here? Two hours, three hours?
Agrilly the retired professer stomped off through the terminal with his luggage and checked with the desk clerk to see if his son had yet arrived.
“I’m sorry, sir. No one by that discriptoin has been through here. “
“Well what’s taking the boy. Honestly, he should have been here an hour ago.”
The tall blonde women smiled, and the professer had to grin.
“Well, if your son is anything like I imagine you might want to try the bar and grill down the road from here.”
Henry Jones Sr. nodded and smiled. “I think you have the right man, thanks. Oh and God Bless.” Henry grinned again as he tipped his hat and headed for the glass double doors. He missed his youthful days, and had he thought of it then, he probably would have gone on those crazy escapades his son always seemed to enjoy.
“And he calls it archeology!” Henry mumbled to himself. Stepping into the cool night air he quickly hailed a taxi which was conveiniantly parked right outside the entrance.
Entering the cab Henry leaned forward to tell the cabbi where to take him when his door ws slammed shut and the vehicle sped up throwing him back against his seat.
Recovering quickly Henry straigtened his glasses and stared at the back of the cabbi’s head. “What in the name of archeology is going on?” He near shouted.
Glancing around he realized that he couldn’t see out the windows of the cab and reasoned that no one else could see inside either.
“Dear Lord, I think I’m in trouble.” He stated finally as the cab sped out of the city.

____________________________________----_____________________________

The cold cool air of London was a shock compaired to the usual heavy humidity. Franciso was not prepared for this and his tight tank top didn’t suffice as covering against the unusual weather. Non the less he knew that his delimma would soon be solved, if the contact arrived.
Stomping his feet and rubbing his bare shoulders Fancisco glanced about the empty fisherman’s warf once again conferming that he was alone. He didn’t want to get caught with any one. The Calavicci’s were a incredibly superstitous bunch. They felt that a lone deal was good luck, but if there were more than one at the other end, the deal was off and no one would leave alive. Francisco knew this from past expeirience. His two brother’s had been killed for making the mistake of hiring a driver. And now his father had been murdered for bringing his mother along as his assistant. Francisco wasn’t about to make any of the same mistakes.
But the Calavicci’s were a historical family, full of myth and legend. There entire estate was filled with important artifacts, too many to count. When Francisco had found the golden dagger, the Calavicci’s had been the first to offer a price. And what a price it had been. Four thousand pounds. He thought it best not to tell them thought that they were truly buying back what had once belonged to the family in the first place. Of course with out his knowledge there was no way for them to know.
His thought s were inturrwpted as the rev of an engine filled the silent night air. Francisco glanced up as a small blue car raced towards him, the headlights beamed in his eyes and for a split second Francisco thought it was over before it had begun. Then the sqeel of tires and hte smell of burning rubber cleared his head and he jumped back just as the car sped over the spot where he had just stood. Continuing on the vehicle slammed through the wooden rails at the edge of the wharf and fell to the sea below.
Running to the edge of the wooden platform Francisco stared down at the trail of bubbles escaping from the sinking car. Quietly he crossed himself, wondering what had just happened and why.
“It is alright, Francisco. I wouldn’t not be that stupid.”
Francisco’s head shot up.
The voice had come from behind him. It was familiar. But not only was the voice familiar but the sound of a gun being cocked and a bullet slipping into place before the barrell.
Francisco raised his hands meagerly.
“Francisco, Francisco. Don’t be a fool. Do you think I would shoot you, after all your years of faithful service.” The voice grew cold and the sound of the gunshot was even colder.
The sound made Francisco flinch and he whirled around expecting a slug between the eyes. When nothing happened he looked at the dark figure with wide eyes, a million questions on his toungue but none of them could be voiced.
“Francisco.” Said the figure. “Why do you upset me.”
Another shot was fired, this time Francisco could feel the bullet whiz past his ear. He jerked his head to the right and tried not to cry out.
“You think you can make a fool out of me?”
Another shot this time whizzed by his feet and he jumped back nearing the edge of the wharf.
“You thought taht I wouldn’t know my own heritage. You thought that I was that stupid? You thought wrong.”
The gun fired rapidly filling Francisco with bullets. His face twisted in anguish as the hot lead ripped through him shattering bones, ripping flesh and spurting blood. Then slowly his tattered and worn body fell backwards, flipping into the sea like a wasted peice of unwanted sewer trash.
The figure slowly put the gun in his belt and walked to the edge of the peir. The bloody water around the sinking body was a gory mess, but slowly the golden dagger rose from the waters and parted the red mess. The figure bent down and picked it up, then he spit on the grave of the archeologist and turned striding gracefully away.
A few moments later the silent night was broken by the lone siren of a police car, five minutes too late.
****************************-----------~~~~~~-------------**********************
There was a rather bright light protruding into his vision. All this time he had been in a peaceful serene world of no pain, no suffering, no worries, and now some stupid blonde nurse was shining a flashlight in his eyes.
He tried to fend her off but his hands wouldn’t move as fast as his brain wanted them to. It was a very sluggish feeling that reminded him of the Black Sleep of Kahli. He didn’t like the feeling and automatically his muscles began to spasm. His blood raced in his veins and his vision began to cloud with red spots.
Then the light was back and the nurse was right there in the center of h is eyesight. Shaking the life out of him, be there any left, and shouting at poeple that to him where utterly non-realistic. Something pricked his arm and as if someone had opened a shaded window, his head began to clear.
His muscles relaxed and the nurse, thank goodness, stopped racking his brains against the floor. After a few moments strong hands lifted his body onto a soft surface. Then he blacked out.

About an hour or so later, Indy awoke with a migrane the sixe of Manhatten, and small tube sticking out of his side. For a moment Indy’s head began to pound and he lifted a hand to rub at his temple’s only to find that there too he had an IV tube.
Muttering a small curse Indy let his eyes follow the tube and only then was he drawn to his surroundings.
The room he lay in was occupied by three other patients, each one either hooked to heavy machinery or sheltered by white curtains. His eyes wandered about the room and he began to recognize the hightech machinery, as that used in hospitals and such.
Relaxing, Indy sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. No sooner had he begun to drift into a deep sleep then two nurses and a doctor burst in through the double doors of his room, each of the nurses abbering to the doctor at the same time. FFinally the irritated man turned to the two women and whispered harsly to them. The two nurses, looking rather shocked, silently eited the room and the irate doctor made his way to Indy’s bedside.
Indy chuckled softly as the doctor picked up the chart at the end of his bed. “Long night?” he asked.
The doctor smiled as he scribbled some notes on the board then stepped toward the head of the bed. “You could say that, espcially with your entrance last night. You gave some of the nurses quite a scare.”
Indy chuckled, then frowned as the doctor checked his pupils and chest.
“Hey about my entrance, “ Indy said when the doctor seemed satisfied, “The guy I brought with me, how is he?”
The young doctor turned to Indy after making a few more marks on the clip board. “I don’t know. “ He said finally. “But I will let you know as soon as I find out anything.”
Indy nodded his thanks and began to sit up, but the doctors hand kept him on the bed.
“But in the meantime I want you to stay here and rest. You have a couple of fractures, some second degree burns and a stage two case of dehydration. Last night we had to tube feed you or you would’ve died. Your lcuky to be alive my freind. I’d suggest you stay for a day or two.”
Indy relaxed and nodded.
The doctor left his bedside and checked on a few more patients then left.
Slowly Indy counted to five.
When all seemed clear he glanced at the doors, then at the patients around him. All seemed clear.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly pulled the tube from his arm then started to sit up. But a violent tug in his side reminded him of the second tube and he pulled that one from his inards as well.
Finally he was able to sit up without yanking on any essential equipment, and he glanced around for his clothes.
A quick search revealed his suit hat and satchel all washed nad neatly folded in a wooden cabinet above his head.
Donning his clothes quickly, Indy checked the room again then snuck stelthly, yet painfully, to the door.
With a tip of his hat and final goodbye, Indiana Jones slipped out the door and down the hall to freedom.


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