Oops... here is the REAL Chapter 11 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 08:10:27:

In Reply to: Chapter 11 of Indiana Jones and the Golden Spider posted by Goodsport on June 06, 2000 at 08:07:13:

Chapter 11 - Dark Clouds Rising

NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK

    "Thank you for your help once again, Professor Campbell," Chief Inspector Kent Allard conveyed. "I promise, we'll get to the bottom of why those two women were in your yard."

    Standing behind the chair Deirdre was sitting in, the Fiddler let out a rare grin from the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. How dangerous could they be if they let a guard dog stop them? Uh, Deirdre…"

    Professor Campbell shot her head up as if woken from a trance. "Yes, thank you."

    The Fiddler leaned in closer to the professor. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

    "Yes," Deirdre answered with a nod, "who were those two women?"

    Allard leaned back in his chair behind his desk, opening a manila folder and glancing at the papers inside. "We don't know much about them yet. One's a Malaysian national, the other's from Poland. They each had a used airline ticket stub in their pockets. It seems like they had just flown in from San Francisco yesterday. Why they would still have ticket stubs on their person while attempting to penetrate a home is beyond me."

    The Fiddler pulled up a chair and sat beside the professor. "Kent, how did the examination of the 'E' mail that Professor Campbell gave you go?"

    His attention suddenly perked, Kent Allard leaned forward. "Interesting stuff from the forensics guys. They couldn't identify the fingerprints, but found little particles of jungle matter on the paper. Undetectable to the naked eye, but could be seen under microscopes. Stuff that floats in the air in jungle environments or stuff that can stick on paper if scraped lightly against vegetation… nothing unusual in a jungle environment, I guess. But the U.S. ain't a jungle environment…"

    Detective Fiddler took a deep breath. What else could she have been hiding from me? "Deirdre, what more do you know about the 'E' mail? Did it come from the jungle?" Oh boy, now I'm sounding crazy!

    Suddenly flushed, Deirdre nervously adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses. Her glance shifted quickly between the Fiddler and Ken Allard and back to the Fiddler. "Uh… no. No, of course not. Why would I… uh… know anything about a jungle?" Desperate to change the subject, she blurted out, "Are you sure that those two women are being watched???"

    Chief Inspector Allard stood up from his chair. "Don't worry, Professor. They're being detained in this precinct for the moment. Sgt. Washburn and Sgt. Wolff are watching them. I'll show you where if you'd like."

    "As long as they don't see me."

    Allard nodded. "Of course they won't. Follow me."

    Deirdre Campbell and the Fiddler were led out of Allard's office down the hall toward the detainment portion of the police station. To their surprise, both policemen who were supposed to be standing guard outside the detainment room were not there. Kent Allard sprinted to the door, which to his further surprise he found slightly open. By the time Deirdre and the Fiddler caught up with him, Kent Allard had turned a lighter shade of pale.

    "Kent, what's wrong?" the Fiddler asked.

    Speechless, Kent flung the door wide open. The Fiddler felt a sickening numbness while Deirdre used all the strength she had not to get violently ill at the sight inside the room - the strangled bodies of Sgt. Washburn and Sgt. Wolff lying on the floor inside the room.

    After a full minute, Deirdre was barely able to make out, "How did this happen?"

    The Fiddler shook Allard out of his trance. "Kent - three guesses on where those two women are headed to now?"

    "Right!" Allard replied as the three of them dashed to the main part of the station.

* * * * *

BELO HORIZONTE, BRAZIL

    Indiana Jones folded the pieces of paper back into its envelope and returned it to the inner pocket of his leather jacket hanging on the wall. "So Shaggy, who paid the way for your expedition? I doubt that you saved up that much money on a teacher's salary."

    "Once again, you are correct," answered Shaggy, "a certain fellow… employed me to find the 'Golden Spider' for him. It was my one big chance at getting a hold of the 'Spider', to see the power it holds and whether man was worth seeing it as well. According to the notes in the journals, to view the power inside the 'Golden Spider' could drive men mad if they are not prepared for it. I'm not exactly sure how one would prepare for it, though, since that is not included in the writings."

    Micah shifted in his seat. "You're working alone, sir?"

    Shaggy shook his head. "No, my employer hired three others. A cargo pilot to get us here and back, and two others. Unfortunately, one of the two is your good friend Webley, with whom you reunited with recently. He eventually betrayed us and started looking for the 'Golden Spider' himself, apparently finding a neighboring tribe to help him out. Don't worry, he is currently being held in a nearby hut… under constant supervision, of course."

    Finished slurping his soup, Indiana James interjected. "So, where are you holding the 'Golden Spider'? Let's see it!"

    The Spaniard cringed before he answered. "That is the problem. As far as we could tell, it is missing from our camp."

* * * * *

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

    From the second story window of the All-Tukt Inn, Aragorn viewed the two enter The Man with the Hat bar and restaurant across the street down below. He had to tell her of what happened, about the mess he made and the mess he got himself into.

    He wondered whether he should go through with it, whether it wasn't better for him to just walk away and leave. No, he decided. After all he's been through he had no choice. He came that close from getting Indiana Rigg's help at the theater, but Nobody's gals almost grabbed him before the Germans finally did, only to hold him in that house alongside the very lady he needed to see. Then being left all tied up in a nearby warehouse, he barely found a way to cut the ropes and find his way to where he was now. He somehow knew that he'd find her close by again. He wasn't sure how… he just knew. Could it have been that damn golden bug? Oh no, how was he going to tell her about what he did to it? Or what happened to it? But knowing her type, she probably already knows! Or does she?

    No, he decided that he must make his way there and see if she can help him get it back. And he prayed that she would not tell Muppet.

* * * * *

    Both students stood from their seats as Indiana Jones quickly donned his jacket. They gasped in unison.

    "What do you mean it's missing?"

    Shaggy stood along with them. "Our cargo pilot flew off a week ago. He was supposed to have returned two days ago, but never did. And worse, the 'Golden Spider' has been missing for the past week. I suppose the two occurrences are not unrelated."

    Micah Johnson turned toward his host. "But how will you contact your employer about these developments, assuming something happened to the pilot. There aren't any telephone poles in this part of the world, and as far as I could see your camp doesn't have a radio."

    "Our employer demanded that there be no radio. Something about the 'wrong people' catching the signals or something. But he supplied us with a somewhat - different - way of communication." The sound of a jeep parking outside caused Shaggy to glance out the hut's entrance. "And here she comes now."

    The three visitors swiveled toward the entrance of the hut just as the woman entered. She suddenly stopped, gasping as a wave of recognition and disgust washed over her face.

    "Indiana Jones?!?"

    To their surprise, the Spaniard and the students noticed the same reaction from Jones as he recognized the red-haired lady at the entrance of the hut.

    "Sophia Hapgood?!?"

* * * * *

    "Oh crap!" Indiana Riggs whispered, running his fingers over the bullet holes in the wall near the staircase of the DeYoung Museum. "Michaelson wasn't kidding!"

    Goodsport whispered back as he turned around, the beam of his flashlight hitting the pilot through the darkness. "Yeah, just don't tell anyone that Michaelson told us, or he'll get in trouble as well."

    "No problem," replied Riggs, taking his flashlight out from his leather bomber jacket. "By the way, where is Short Round's office?"

    "That's what I'm trying to find out," Goodsport answered while sifting through the directory booklet at the museum's lobby desk. After minutes of searching, he finally found his answer.

    "Riggs, his office is in section V-8 of the museum. The directory has a map of the museum as well. We'll use that to guide us."

    "Goodsport… are you sure that we should have broken in here during the night without anyone knowing?"

    Goodsport sighed. "It's one my least favorite parts of my job, but in this case it's necessary. Short Round's in trouble, and we gotta find out what's going on with him if we want any hope of helping him. Besides, we won't be taking anything."

    Riggs shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Lead the way."

    With flashlights and directory map in hand, they both headed down the main hall past exhibits of varying themes and genres. Heading up a staircase and down a smaller corridor, they finally found the right door. The white-tinted window was contrasted with 'SHORT ROUND - CURATOR' scrawled across it in black lettering.

    Pushing the door slightly ajar, the private investigator and the cargo plane pilot slipped through the door stealthily. Scanning the darkened room with their flashlights, the messiness of the office caught them both by surprise.

    Indiana Riggs faced the P.I. "What now?"

    "Search the room for any type of clue to where Short Round could be right now. Or what could be scaring him. Or whatever - just something that really jumps out at you."

    "I hope you don't mean that literally," Riggs chuckled as he remembered the black widow spiders inside his cargo plane earlier.

    Both men quietly searched for ten minutes through the mess of papers, bills, documents, clipped articles and the like without finding anything out of the ordinary for a museum curator.

    "Goodsport, I was thinking," Riggs finally broke the silence, "at the police station Michaelson mentioned Jayne Jones. You know… Indiana Jayne?"

    Barely visible in the light from Rigg's flashlight, Goodsport's expression turned cold. "Yeah, one our two attackers at the theater."

    "And the lady Bill was following before he was killed. Doesn't it all fit together? She was working for that shady security agency that you and Bill discovered was trying to make a deal with Nobody about something. Then you exposed the whole thing and their deal fell threw, with Nobody now wanting their heads as well as yours. Then Bill and Dorothy were found…"

    "Okay, I get the picture!" Goodsport barked.

    "So you think that it was Indiana Jayne who got her revenge on you?"

    "Very likely."

    "And that for her, killing Bill and Dorothy was like killing two birds with one stone? Icing the man who was tailing her agency while still making you feel the pain through Dorothy's death?"

    "Probably."

    "And with Dorothy…"

    "Can we change the subject already?!?"

    "Goodsport," Riggs continued unwaveringly, "you can't keep avoiding that episode forever. You and Dorothy were two weeks away from getting married, and I know that you were planning on switching to a safer career once you two were settled in."

    "Hey, what's this?" Goodsport quickly exclaimed, relieved that he finally found something to change the subject from his cheating fiancee. The private investigator lifted the folded note from near the phone on Short Round's desk and unfolded it. Riggs glanced over Goodsport's shoulder as they both read it.

CLICK HERE TO READ THE UNFOLDED NOTE

    Indiana Riggs glanced his watch. "Goodsport, that's in half an hour! Can we make it there in your car?"

    "That's on the other side of the city," Goodsport recalled, "but at this hour, there should hardly be any traffic."

    Both men dashed out of Short Round's office and out of the DeYoung Museum's back entrance. They surveyed the surrounding area through the thick San Francisco fog until they were satisfied that the coast was clear, then made the uneventful several blocks to where Goodsport's 1936 Ford Sedan was parked and drove off.

* * * * *

    "What are you doing here?!?"

    "What are you doing here?!?"

    Jose Manuel de la Shaggy peered at Jones, then at Hapgood. "You two know each other?"

    They answered at once. "Unfortunately!"

    Complete silence befell the room as all five people in the hut stared at each other for what seemed like minutes. Finally, Indiana Jones broke the silence.

    "She and I were on the Jastro Expedition in Iceland way back when. After the dig, some artifacts turned up… missing!"

    Sophia rolled her eyes and shrugged. "So I kept a few trinkets. What's the big deal?"

    "Sophia," Indy angrily interjected, "those belonged in a museum!"

    Shaggy threw up his hands. "Señoras y caballeros, can we please focus on the job at hand? Sophia, were you able to find the 'Golden Spider'?"

    "No," she shook her head sadly as she pointed to the jeep outside, the moonlight barely illuminating it as did the torches all across the hut-filled village.

    "I rode all around the area until it became too dark to ride any more," Sophia continued, "and since we know that Webley didn't have on him, I'm more sure than ever that Aragorn stole the 'Golden Spider'!"

    An expression of both relief and worry spread across Shaggy's bearded face. "Gracias, Sophia. Have you let our employer's contact know about the situation?"

    Micah finally broke his silence. "How could she contact them if we're out in the middle of the…"

    "Yes," the red-haired lady interrupted, answering the Spaniard, "I overheard you speaking when I parked the jeep. I just updated her of the situation."

* * * * *

    Thank you, Sophia.

    "What's wrong, Megara?"

    Megara glanced up at the man sitting across the table from her, right next to the bar of The Man with the Hat bar. With the religious garb they had 'borrowed' hidden away, they had both once again blended in with those around them.

    "Jerico, I just found out… the 'Golden Spider' was stolen from Brazil a few days ago. It could be anywhere in the world by now."

    Indiana Jerico remained silent, as if he was staring into space.

    The Italian beauty slammed her fist on the table, which most definitely woke Indiana Jerico from his trance. "Jerico! How can I trust you if you won't tell me how you're involved in all this! I already told you about how Muppet and I need the 'Golden Spider' to sell to the Germans for money. And that we sent a team down to Brazil to retrieve it. Didn't you listen to all that?"

    "Yes I did listen, Megara," Indiana Jerico assured her, "I'm sorry to hear that Muppet lost almost all his money after he was framed by Nobody and arrested by the Canadian authorities. And of all you lost after Mussolini and his Fascists seized your family's land in Italy. I understand why you both need the money, but why did you hire that private eye to search for it if you already knew where it was?"

    Meg almost choked on her wine. Wide-eyed, she quickly set the glass down. "L'oh il mio Dio… how did you know about that?!?"

    "We know more about all this 'Golden Spider' business than you could imagine, my sweet Italian flower."

    A sense of dread and remorse washed over Megara. Right when she thought she had the situation under control…

    "Megara, you've entrusted me with much more information about yourself than I could have expected. So I will return the favor." Indiana Jerico removed his coat jacket and hung it on his chair back. He then removed the gold cuffs from the ends of his sleeves, pocketed them and rolled up enough of the sleeves of his dress shirt to reveal his lower arms.

    The Italian pointed to the tattoo on each of the Asian's arms. "Jerico, are those…"

    Indiana Jerico quickly nodded, rolled down the sleeves of his shirt and cuffed them. He lowered his head slightly as he answered her in a whisper. "Yes Megara, those are spiders. More specifically…"

    "Don't tell me," Meg broke in, "the 'Golden Spider'."

    Jerico nodded. "Yes. I'm one of Los Hermanos de la Araña Dorada… 'The Brothers of the Golden Spider'. For centuries, The Brothers have kept its secret safe. That is why I cannot allow you or Muppet to sell it to the Germans… assuming you find it."

    Megara stifled a chuckle. "Excuse me for saying this, signore, but you do not look Spanish."

    Indiana Jerico grinned. "No, I don't suppose I do. I'm from the Philippines, which was a Spanish colony for almost 350 years before America took Spain's place around the turn of the century. Besides my native Filipino, I also know Spanish, English and French."

    Megara wondered how she was going to convince Jerico to allow her to obtain the 'Golden Spider' when a familiar voice startled them both from behind her.

    "The blender grows pines! The red sweater leaks!! Megara, I need to speak to you!!!"

    Indiana Jerico reached for the pistol inside his coat. Megara held up her hand to him, motioning for him to keep the weapon hidden. Without even turning her head, she knew who it was. "Aragorn?"

    The pilot pulled a chair from the nearby table and squeezed in between them, his crazed eyes darting from the strange man Megara was sitting with to Megara herself. "I went to see a fiddler to teach me how to fiddle! The brown cow had speckled spots!! I lost the 'Golden Spider' and it's on its way home!!!"

    Jerico turned to Meg. "You know this man???"

    Still somewhat shocked, Megara nodded. She then turned to Aragorn. "Signore Aragorn, you're supposed to be in Brazil! Where are the others?"

    Aragorn contorted his face and shook his head furiously. "No, nyet, nein… forget about them for a moment! It was stolen from me when I refueled my plane at Nicaragua. Stolen from me by Albert A.!"

    Indiana Jerico and Megara sipped some more wine before listening to any more, hoping that would help them make more sense of what this madman was saying. They then turned to him and asked together, "Albert A.?"

    The pilot pounded both fists on the table, almost spilling the wine-filled glasses. "Maybe that was his name. Maybe where he was from. I don't know." Aragorn leaned his face in closer to Megara's. "We found lots of the first marker - the blood of those huge spiders in Brazil, you know!"

    Jerico jaw dropped. "Giant spiders in Brazil? The Pardosa Hortensis? They're indigenous to Northern Africa, and they're not exactly giant."

    Megara smiled sweetly, amused that for once she knew more than him. "Indiana Jerico, I was going to get to that part."

    Aragorn donned a pained expression. "Explain it on the way to my plane, or explain it to them instead." Megara and Jerico swiveled their heads toward the five burly men entering the bar. One of them was Fritz.

    The trio at the table then shot their glances toward where the bartender was discreetly motioning to them. The Man with the Hat, dressed in his bartender clothes and gray wool fedora, twitched his head downward toward behind the bar. The three crawled from their table, across the back of the bar, and into the back room. It did not appear that Fritz and his men caught sight of them.

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

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