Chapter 7 of Indiana Jones and the Golden Spider

Posted by Goodsport from adsl-216-102-199-185.dsl.snfc21.pacbell.net on June 06, 2000 at 08:02:08:

Chapter 7 - Triumphs and Threats

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

    "Well, well. Aren't the tables turned now?" Indiana Riggs laughed mockingly at Indiana Jayne. To Indiana Riggs' surprise, he found that Indiana Jayne was laughing along with him.

    "Not so fast, honey," Indiana Jayne told Indiana Riggs. "The drum's empty. I've never trusted any Western invention to save my skin. Go on. See for yourself."

    Indiana Riggs opened the bullet drum but his eyes which were burning with hatred were fixed on the Chinese-Malaysian. Meanwhile, a woozy Tessa silently helped herself to her feet, recovering from the blow Goodsport had landed on her chin. She grabbed the fire extinguisher hanging next to her and knocked Goodsport's skull with it. Goodsport collapsed with a heavy thud. Indiana Riggs swiveled his head to the sound. Jayne, not missing the opportunity, kicked the gun out of Riggs' hand. The gun tumbled down the stairs and dropped to the ground below. A startled Indiana Riggs turned back and in return sent a tightly clenched uppercut in Jayne's direction but Jayne swiftly grabbed his arm and threw him over her shoulder with little effort - pure Jeet Kun Do. Indiana Riggs let out a painful moan. Tessa snatched her gun from Goodsport's weak grasp and turned to Jayne.

    "Come on, Jayne! Let's beat it before they wake up!" Tessa ordered.

    "Right!"

    And with that, both women rushed down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Tessa removed an oblong shaped object with the letter E engraved on it from her left jacket pocket. She removed the cap and aimed for the steps. The object landed two steps beneath where Goodsport and Indiana Riggs lay.

    "Perfect!" Tessa remarked with a smile. Jayne stopped and scanned the area. There were trash cans and litter everywhere, but no sign of her gun.

    "Apalah ni! Where's my gun?" she wondered aloud. Tessa, who already ran a few feet in front of her, turned back.

    "Forget the gun! It's empty, remember?" she said between gasps of breath.

    "So I lied! I had to distract them!" Jayne admitted. Tessa sighed heavily and took out another gun from her a secret holster under the hem of her long pants. She tossed it over to Jayne, who caught it with both hands.

    "Here! Forget yours and use my spare! Now come on! The bomb's going to blow if we don't move it!" Tessa started sprinting again. Jayne hurried to catch up with her partner.

    "Thanks, Tessa! I owe you one!" she said gratefully once both of them were running alongside each other. Tessa laughed dryly.

    "Liar liar, pants on fire!"

* * * * *

BELO HORIZONTE, BRAZIL

    "Damn it, Micah!" cursed Indiana Jones as he struggled with Webley. The spider was now only about seven feet away from them. Large drops of saliva dripped from its mouth. Indiana Jones swung a heavy blow of his fist into Webley's cheek. Webley almost lost consciousness. After dropping him to the ground, Indiana Jones ran to his student's aid and pushed him through the spider's legs. Both Micah and Indiana ran under the spider's gigantic body and to the other side, but the spider seemed no longer interested in the archeologist and his pupil. The spider was now eyeing Webley.

    "Indy! It's after Webley!" Micah called to his teacher and pointed at the still body. Indiana Jones started uncoiling his bullwhip.

    "I know Webley's a real pain in the neck but," Indiana paused and then looked at Micah. "Oh, well! What the hell!"

    With one swift swing, Indiana Jones whipped the spider's back leg. The spider let out a loud roar.

    "Micah, get Webley out of there!" Indiana commanded as the spider turned to face him. A drop of cold sweat trickled down his forehead. For his entire forty years, he had never seen such a monster! Micah obediently complied and dragged Webley under a shady tree. As he rummaged through the bags to find whatever object might be useful; the battle between his teacher and the giant spider began.

* * * * *

NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK

    Both of them sat at Deidre's dinner table. Detective Fiddler sipped slowly from his mug of hot cocoa Deirdre had made. Once again, there was an awkward silence between them. Neither could think of any topic to converse about. The Fiddler secretly glanced at the lady sitting beside him. Deirdre looked somewhat haggard with dark circles under her eyes. The faraway look on her face revealed that she was deep in thought. She stirred her cocoa absent-mindedly with a small silver teaspoon. The Fiddler had half a mind to just leave her there in her own world. Instead, he put down his mug and decided to get some words out of her.

    "Deirdre, so these spiders," he began, "they can actually transform into something… they're not?" For a moment, Fiddler wasn't sure whether she had actually heard him. She kept staring blankly at the table.

    "Deirdre?" he waved his hand in front of her. Still no response.

    "Deirdre!" he said louder. Deirdre faced the Fiddler with the same blank expression.

    "Pardosa hortensis," she mumbled. The Fiddler sighed.

    "Deirdre, please speak in a language I can understand," he said with a tone of annoyance.

    "Pardosa hortensis, Fiddler," she repeated. The Fiddler got up from his chair and gulped down the last of his cocoa.

    "I think you need some rest, Deirdre. Call me if anything's wrong, okay? Thanks for the drink," he said flatly and started walking towards the door. Deirdre rose from her seat as well.

    "Fiddler, pardosa hortensis is the only type of spider that can react to the hyperactive steroids, the type of hormone that can transform it into something larger, stronger or sometimes slightly genetically mutated," she explained. Fiddler stopped and turned around.

    "Go on, I'm listening," he said with a little enthusiasm as he helped himself to the plush velvety sofa.

    "Sometimes genetically mutated as in developing new features or new behavior. For example, less harmful spiders like the pardosa can turn dangerous and maybe," Deirdre paused for a second, then continued, "extremely life-threatening."

* * * * *

ALBERTA, CANADA

    "Jeef! I have been waiting for--" Brett Lambert's complaint was cut short when he saw his secretary dozing off on his desk. Brett Lambert frowned. Jeef was sleeping with his head resting comfortably on his folded arms. He let out a grunted snore.

    "Get up, Sleeping Beauty!" Brett shouted furiously. Jeef snapped his head back at once. He squinted at his boss curiously.

    "Huh?" he asked. Brett felt his blood beginning to boil in his veins. He leaned forward and looked into Jeef's glassy eyes.

    "Didn't I asked you to make that call to Michaelson? I have been waiting for half an hour already and you're here just catching some shut-eye??" he scolded.

    "I'm sorry, Brett. I couldn't resist that late-night horror flick last night. I guess I didn't get enough of the alarm clock, huh?" Jeef explained, still looking dazed from his sleep.

    "Why not I fire you and then you can get your hundred years of sleep, Jeef?" Brett shot back.

    Uh-oh, better not mess with him anymore, thought Jeef. He picked up the handset and dialed a number.

    "Hello, operator? I'd like to make an international call to California."

* * * * *

    The ambulance arrived in the Police Department to confirm Indiana John's untimely death. The professional air before was replaced with a grim atmosphere. Melanie was seen sobbing to herself. Another lady officer sat beside her and tried to console her friend. Short Round watched as the paramedics lifted Indiana John's lifeless body onto the stretcher and into the ambulance van. He wished the police had never brought Monchichi into the station. This whole tragedy would not have taken place. He felt his spirits sinking. Not just because of Monchichi, but because of Indiana John as well. After all, Indiana John had saved his life before but now there was no way of bringing him back. An hour had passed, but he already missed both his beloved pet spider and his friend. He felt a pat on his shoulder and turned around. Behind him, Michaelson flashed him a compassionate smile.

    "I'm sorry about Monchichi," he sympathized. Short Round said nothing in return but managed to force a weak smile. Just then, Sgt. Abramoff approached Michaelson.

    "Detective Michaelson, an international call for you on line three," he said. Michaelson nodded and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

    "Short Round here is a little traumatized by this whole incident. Can you make sure that he's okay?" he asked.

    "Yes, sir," Sgt. Abramoff replied. Michaelson smiled gratefully and walked towards the telephone.

    "Hello, Michaelson here," he said after lifting the receiver to his ear.

    "Michaelson, it's Brett. I've just got some scoop on the number plate," answered the other end. Michaelson sighed and sat down on a chair nearby.

    "Okay, then. Let's hear it."

* * * * *

    "Holy smokes!" Indiana Riggs exclaimed when he saw the bomb. He quickly turned to Goodsport who was still lying unconscious.

    "Great! More bombs… and I'm all alone on this!" he said to himself. He felt his heartbeat race and his temperature rise. The bomb was going to blow any second. He had to figure something out fast. He looked at his surroundings in panic for no apparent reason. Dolly's Launderette, Sam's Bar, The Armada Hotel… hey!he thought. An idea had just struck his mind. It seemed like an impossible and crazy idea but maybe if he just gave it his best shot, he might just make it. Not wasting any precious seconds, he bent down and picked up the bomb with his sweaty hands. His back hurt like hell but nothing mattered more than what he had to do that very moment. The Armada Hotel was just two blocks down and there was an empty large swimming pool on top of the building. Perhaps the swimming pool could minimize the explosion.

    "Here goes nothing!" he muttered, and with all his gathered strength he threw the bomb in the pool's direction. He had never done anything so outrageous before. He watched the spider-shaped bomb sail high into the air. He shut his eyes and started praying. Suddenly, a loud boom was heard. He opened his eyes. The sky turned bright orange and then dark gray when the smoke fogged in. A rush of relief washed over him. Fortunately, the bomb had exploded in mid-air and not in any other place. Below him, people were running around screaming and the whole place was chaos, but Riggs was sure that there had been no serious damage. Ironically, it was a proud moment for Riggs. He felt his knees giving in and slumped to the floor. At first, he smiled. Then he laughed. He laughed to the sky.

    "Oh, thank you!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!"

* * * * *

    Ulla smiled triumphantly as she walked down the passage way from the ladies' comfort room. Manipulating Muppet is just like stealin' candy from a baby! she thought happily as she started whistling an old Western tune.

    A tall, dark male uniformed waiter walked into the passageway carrying a tray in his right palm. The tray was covered with a broad white napkin over it.

    "Hey, sugar! What 'cha got in there?" Ulla asked cheekily at the waiter. The waiter smiled mysteriously.

    "This!" He lifted the napkin and revealed a gleaming steel knife. He stabbed it into Ulla's stomach. The waiter watched her as she let out a low moan. Ulla dropped to the floor, and a dark red pool of blood flowed out onto the red carpet lining the passageway.

    "Sorry, Ulla. The Golden Spider shall remain in Nobody's grasp," he laughed devilishly. The waiter then placed the dagger in his pocket and removed a revolver.

    Back in the washroom, a head peeked out into the passageway. Muppet quickly stuck it back in. He felt his body breaking out into a cold sweat. He's after me!he thought feverishly. He looked around for a hiding place. Footsteps thudded at the back. It was getting louder each second. Muppet quickly jumped into one of the cubicles and locked it tight. The footsteps stopped.

    "Come out, come out wherever you are, Signore Muppet!" he sang out.

* * * * *

    "Argh!! How do I get out of this thing?!" James Lambert exclaimed. He pawed and scratched at the cocoon around him, but it was too strong and too thick. Then he remembered that he had a Zippo lighter in his pocket - a chance of escape.

    He reached into his trouser pocket for it. Once he felt it with his fingers, he grabbed it and started burning through the thick web. The web burnt like dry firewood and he was out of the cocoon in no time. After dusting the rest of the loose webbing on his clothes, he used the Zippo as illumination. It was a small flame, but produced just enough brightness to see a few ahead. He walked in the tunnel for about fifteen minutes searching for a way out. Time passed slowly. Then he came to a dead end.

    "A dead end?" he said in bewilderment. "This can't be! How am I ever going to get out?"

    A frustrated James started angrily knocking and kicking on the earthy wall. All of a sudden, he felt the ground beneath him shake. He stood still and felt that the vibrations were getting stronger and stronger. Clumps of earth from the ceiling started falling down like rain. He felt the ground give way. He gulped.

    "What's going on?"

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

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