Hey Guys, Its Euro again and this time Ive come back with another Indiana Jones story
this time it is set in late 1938 roughly six months from the Last Crusade and the Holy Grail incident.

This story is a joint effor between me (Euro) and my friend Indy (indianakat.)
Mandy is her character, she may seem rude in this chapter but giver her a chance to develop more. Two characters which will come in later are mine. There are also two bad guys, one is hers and one is mine, they will come in later as well -woot- so wait in anticipation.

And just and FYI, this is NOT the same scepter/staff that appeared in Raiders of the Lost Ark. This is a different one.

Indiana Jones and the Scepter of Amon-Ra

Chapter 1

A Chance Meeting

The Posh French Restaurant was alive with activity in the early hours of the evening. Night had just fallen over the great city of Paris and every light twinkled like stars in the navy blue sky. The noise, the cabarets, the people, everything seemed to be better after dark in Paris. Every person on the street took on a new life at night, it was if the maker had bestowed upon them some strange dynamic spirit that invigorated them and lifted them from the ho-hum of the daily workings. The lights upon the French city's most famous landmark glowed brightly in the night. The lights from the city easily overpowered the starts that would have been shining over head, but had now become invisible to anyone who was drowned in the pinkish-hue of the city. It was intoxicating. Someone who was not native to city was easily swept up in its amazing nightlife and would not be willing to go back from it.

The restaurant's architecture spoke of the neo-classical baroque age which was long passed and forgotten. Spindly, white marble pillars grew into intricately carved flying buttresses which supported a large over hang that protected an outside seating area. It was lit with lamps that had, at one time, been gas driven, but now had been re-wired so as to fit the electric light-bulb. The tables were mostly for parties of two or three and were covered with a silk table cloth of white and than another one in a very pale pink; the placemats were knitted from lace and held beautiful embroidered twisting borders of roses and carnations. A red carpet lead to the glass doors which opened to the inside of the restaurant.

Within the building, the roof soared above those who entered through the glass doors. Everything was white, the walls, the floors, the tablecloths. The marble on the floor was polished to high sheen and reflected the large chandelier's glowing light upon its face. The crystal sequins dripped down from the lighting fixture and broke the white light into a million different colors like a prism. It appeared as though not a single smidgeon of dirt was to be found anywhere within this building premise and it was as though anyone who dared to even think about tipping their glass over was to be evicted. Everything was immaculate, the intricately designed silver ware and the hand crafted crystal glasses were spotless. The napkins of a pale burgundy color were folded in such a way that if one tilted their head at the correct angle they would look like swans.

The room was huge. About three-fourths of the place was set up with tables and the left over space was left open, clearly welcoming the couples and groups to come dancing to the band which was situated in a corner. About seven musicians in pristine looking tuxedos played a soft waltz on their instruments. The couples were spaced almost evenly around the seating part of the building and were enjoying various wines and champagnes from just about every corner of the European continent. A few waiters loitered around talking orders, but most of them prowled around the edges of the tables, watching and inspecting the individuals who happened to be dinning in the restaurant. Everyone there was dressed to the occasion, including a middle-aged man seated near one of the side-wall windows.

Thick, circular glasses rested upon the bridge of his nose; his gray eyes were quickly looking over the text of a small navy book which he held in his hand. Dark-brown hair was smoothed down close to his head and reflected the sheen of the light in it. He wore a clean, deep-gray tux with a white dress shirt underneath it and a red tie that was tucked neatly under the dress jacket. Placing the book down for a moment he carefully picked up the wine glass on the table and lifted it to his lips. He took a sip and the replaced the glass back to its original position. His fingers reached for the book once more, but his attention was draw for a moment to the figure who sat across from him.

"You okay, Kid?" he asked as he raised an eyebrow.

The figure's head had been resting upon its arms which were folded across the table. Long, black cascaded down its back making it quite obvious that this figure was feminine. She lifted her eyes so that she could see the man. Her skin was of a light olive color and was complimented quite nicely by the sleek black dress of which she wore. The gown had trails of diamond-like sparkles creating designs all the way across its front and back. Her eyes were of a rich, warm brown color and could be compared to the color of warm honey. It was quite obvious, even when she was sitting down, that she was short; her small frame and stature were quite apparent and made her appear as though she was about thirteen years of age. That, however, was not true for she was old enough to drink for she balanced a half-empty wine glass in her hand.

"I'm fine…" she said as she raised herself and sat back in the chair, her voice was soft and showed that she was, in fact, still young.

Accepting this statement the man went back to reading. The girl merely cast around a few glances at the others who were in the restaurant with them. Most were speaking quickly in French and she was in no way well acquainted with the language. The other couples held an air of snobby-ness around them; she made an odd stair at the couple across the room from them. Both the man and the girl had been summoned here by an unfamiliar acquaintance for reason that neither of them really knew. The man had past his time reading, but the girl was quickly starting to grow bored.

"Dr. Jones." She spoke. There was no reply from the man. The girl gave his a disgruntled face, "Indy!" came a louder call, trying to bring the man's mind away from the book of which he seemed so engrossed in.

"uhm…" he grunted as he looked over the rim of his spectacles to the seat opposite him.

"So, who exactly is this person that we are supposed to meet here?" she asked as she ran her finger around the rim of the crystal glass, trying to make it ring. She had been told that it would happen so many times before and now she was going to try it herself.

The man checked his watch and then gave a shrug as he put the book down, "We'll have to wait and see."

The girl stopped fiddling with the glass and re-crossed her arms in front of her. This had been the third time that Dr. Jones had asked her to accompany him on one of his voyages around the world all for the sake of archeology and this was starting to become on of the dullest ones yet. She paused in thought. She had managed to meet Dr. Jones in one of those museum exhibit openings and they had found that their mutual like for adventure and discovery had been quite an impressive conversation starter.

The man she sat with was none other than the great Indiana Jones, but he looked so far removed now in his tux and glasses than when he did in his fedora, wielding the ever famous whip. His eyes no longer were scanning the pages of the book; instead they had been drawn to staring off into the empty night sky that was visible through the window. The girl turned back to her dinner plate cutting a bit of the medium-done steak that was left on her plate, slowly placing it her in her mouth as she looked up at Indiana.

"Have a lot on your mind, Doctor?" the girl tilted her head to one side.

"Absolutely nothing at all, Mandy…" Jones said, never moving his gaze away from the glass panes.

As a silence fell around them the tail end of the most recent song the band was playing came to its conclusion. The silence was filled with the clatter of plates, silverware and trays as the waiters took this moment to move quickly through the maze of tables to clear away any dishes that might have been forgotten. Even though they all were of different height, body type and hair color, all the waiters wore the exact same stuffy expression; one as though their noses had just caught the scent of something foul. Mandy had to practically fight off one of the men from taking her plate before she was finished with it. Dr. Jones watched with amusement as the girl tried to explain to a French waiter in English that she was not done eating. In the corner, the conductor of the band raised his arms, they would soon be continuing with their musical review. The man gave one sweep of his baton and the band started off on a fast waltz.

The couples were once again were waltzing within the great marble expanse in the center of the restaurant. New ones joined in, others left to rest from their dancing endeavors and the get themselves drinks of the wet bar. The tender running it was trying all within his power to keep everyone that was ordering from him satisfied. Indiana Jones went back to the book in his hands. He was not much of a dancer therefore he had no reason to go looking for a partner. Mandy, on the other hand, was more engrossed with her Coq au vin than actually getting up to join the waltzing pairs behind her. The bespectacled man's attention fully returned to the words and phrases on the paper. Latin and Greek symbols, even a dash of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs were scrawled across the pages. It was obvious he could read them for her turned the pages with ease, as any normal person would do for a regular novel. Sadly, Jones' enthrallment with what he was reading let one small detail of the place, one tiny feature of the grand environment, slide past him. There was a presence that was about to take the American professor on a trip to the past.

It was there, in the chair that was seated with its back toward Jones, there was where fate was about to play an unfriendly trick upon both Indiana and its inhabitant. Normally, the fact that someone was seated in the vicinity around him did not bother him. Why should it? He had nothing to fear. It had been Six Months since the grail incident, and Jones had attempted to keep himself out of trouble with foreign governments. He had already had a close enough brush with death and he was not to willing to repeat it. The chair. It was not one the belonged to the restaurant for it was not made of the familiar handcrafted, meticulously cut, white polished wood with velveteen maroon cushioning. This one was dark, made out of a deep, honey-color wood cut far from the French city of Paris. The most distinguishing feature was the fact that it had no legs. Instead, it processed deep gray steel-framed wheels that were welded to the seat by huge iron bolts. The person who occupied it was there by an affliction that was not easily forgotten, on the maimed him and forever confined him and his useless legs to a lifetime of movement by man made wheels. A harsh voice came from the chair; it spoke in English, but it was heavily laden with a deeply embedded Germanic accent.

"Ve meet again Doktor Jones…"

The professor's head lifted from the book as his eyebrows knitted in confusion. He looked to the girl seated across from him. "Did you say somethin', Kid?" He asked.

Mandy looked back at him, her mouth stuffed with food. The harsh words had obviously not come from her for she probably would have choked had she tried to even attempt to say anything. The girl gave her head a shake in disagreement to Indiana's inquiry. She then gave her hand a flick as she gestured toward the back of the wheelchair which had its back toward the American and was parked, solitary, at the table behind him. Indiana turned around his chair as he placed the brown book he had been reading on his placemat; the voice had sounded familiar, almost too familiar. He caught sight of fair skin and blonde hair that was starting to go gray around the edges from age. The professor squinted, this man was very familiar but Indiana could not place the face. Then suddenly, it hit him, his blue gray eyes widened.

"V-Vogel?" the name tumbled from the American's mouth in shock.

He thought he was dead; he had seen him go over the cliff in a tank and had seen the machine shatter around Vogel upon the sharp rocks at the bottom of the ravine. There was no way that anyone could have survived that, but yet here the German was, staring him down almost six months from the incident. The American swallowed hard, the last thing that he wanted was to start a fight with one of his most hated adversaries, and it was obvious that Vogel would give what little he had to win the chance to kill Jones right then and there. The air around them grew tense as old memories flooded into his mind.

The German spun his wheelchair around to face the professor fully and so that Indiana could see the full extent of what he had done to the Colonel. The entire left half of Vogel's face was horridly disfigured; scars ran rampant all over his countenance. What made it worse was that one of the largest one that ran fully from his hairline, over his eye and ended just a few millimeters over his upper lip appeared as though one of the worst doctors in the world had attempted to sew the lesion close but had failed miserably. The image that Jones remembered of the colonel looked nothing like that man in front of him; the German was now a ghost of his former self. The face had grown gaunt and the cheekbones had become much more defined giving the colonel a look as though lady fortune had not been kind to him. Vogel's eyes had started to recede into their sockets only enhancing his new skeletal appearance; dark circles hung themselves under his once steely-blue optics. Out of the corner of his eye, Indiana could see Mandy cringe with disgust across fro him. She had stories from Jones about Vogel along with ones about Toht and Belloq, but none of them had ever come back to haunt him, not until now. The German must have felt them starting at him for he gestured at the American.

"I haff jou to sank foor zis…" he said icily.

However, the words he spoke were paid no heed to as both Jones's and Mandy's eyes were drawn to the left hand that he brandished in their direction. What once had been a perfectly good hand was replaced by nothing more than a three-pronged metal fake. Vogel saw what he had done and what they were staring at and quickly withdrew his hand and tried to hide it by pulling the sleeve of his gray suit over it.

"Yes we do, though you are a lot different then when we last met," Indiana said, quickly trying to regain some of his composure.

"I've heard a lot about you sir…" she commented in a snide tone. Jones's body twitched, Mandy had a naturally sharp tongue and seemed to have nothing within her brain that told her how to regulate it and her side comments. Indiana was not looking for a fight, but if the girl got too involved with the conversation it might end up that way. He could tell that Vogel's fuse was short. He gave her a glance that clearly told her to watch her mouth and what she said.

"How the hell did you survive the crash, Colonel?" The American asked.

"Not 'colonel' anymore" Vogel said, his voice dagger sharp. "Nein, no longer 'colonel'."

Indiana's eyes locked with the Germans as they waged a silent war with each other, neither of them wanted to be the first one to blink for that would prove the other to be the victor.

Mandy shifted in her seat, "You want to answer to question, Mr. Vogel?" she inquired

The former colonel tore his eyes from the American and turned his cold gaze upon his girlfriend. As if hating Jones wasn't enough he was getting very negative connotations from her as well and was already starting to develop a strong distaste for her.

"How did I survive?" he repeated, his voice faltered before he answered. It appeared as though even Vogel did not know how he had managed to come out of that desert alive after the fall from the cliff. "By a stroke off fate…" he finally decided was the correct answer.

The girl's eyes narrowed. She seemed to have a third sense to tell when she was getting on people's nerves. However, she herself was starting to develop an even stronger dislike for this man who had threatened Dr. Jones's life all those months ago and now she was going to get her two bits worth in to the conversation. She felt that she had an obligation to the professor to help defend him against the man in the wheelchair. Indiana raised an eyebrow at the German's answer. He was not one to believe in fate, but he did believe in chance and luck for they had helped him through many situations before.

"So it seems," The professor said

The girl across from him quickly chimed in, "Perhaps it wasn't 'fate', more like 'dumb luck'?" Her tone of voice was coy. It was obvious that she was trying different methods of getting Vogel's goat.

The former colonel's features clouded over even darker than they had been before. It was lucky for both Jones and Mandy that they were where they were, at any other place the German and American would have already been fighting. However, both men knew that if either of their fists collided with anything they both risked being thrown out. The girl observed the next few minutes of silence as a person observing which horse they would bet on did. She was analyzing the playing field as the tension heightened between the two hated enemies. They both looked as though in any moment they were going to jump out of theirs chairs and starting beating each other up. Well, Mandy couldn't exactly see Vogel 'leaping' out of his chair.

"So what happed after this stoke of fate?" Jones questioned.

"Vhat happened aftervord iz none off jour concern, Herr Jones…" Vogel snapped as he waved his pronged hand threateningly in the two American's direction.

The hand looked quite disturbing to someone who was not used to seeing the gleaming metal object, it did, however, look as though it might do some serious damage if it ever came into contact with someone's flesh and bone. Indiana got the connection that if he ever was to get into a fight with Vogel, he might be the one at the disadvantage for it appeared as though the German might use that as his weapon of choice. Slowly, so as not to make it too obvious, the American was starting to slide his chair in toward their table, just in case anything happened, he would be out of range of the first blow.

"I vill say zat dragging vonself around ze desert foor three days, begging foor death, causes a lot off changes in a man…" Vogel's grave tone trailed off as his eyes glazed over. It was clear that his mind was returning to the painful days that followed the crash all those months ago.

Indy could not help himself, he snorted at what the German said, "Please, Vogel, people don't change…"

Mandy raised her hand as if she was asking to be called in. "May I say something?" she interjected. The girl knew she was getting the German angry, but she continued anyway. "So tell me, now that you're no longer in the army and no longer a colonel there's nothing to live for is there?" Before either of her companions could speak she pressed on with her question, "After surviving the fall and having to look like that, what else have you got… other than getting your revenge upon Dr. Jones…" The girl than wrinkled her nose in disgust. "But you failed once already, Vogel. Do you really think you have one more chance, under these conditions?"

The German gritted his teeth; this situation was starting to go down hill slowly. He still had fight left in him; even if it was not as physical as it would have been had he not bore the wounds of the fall. Now, as well as waging a silent war with Jones, he was engaging in a battle of words with the female. What words they were, if anyone had spoken to him like that before the crash they would have been awarded with bullets in the back of their head. Within Vogel's own mind he still was a colonel and was not to be spoken down to from the lower ranks, and was not to be spoken down to by a woman he hardly knew.

"I am still here because I fear death… und zat should be sufficient enough answer foor jou…" The former colonel growled.

He glared at the girl who was quickly climbing her way up Vogel's list of Hated individuals. If she kept this up she might find herself right along side Dr. Jones. Everything that she said was discrimination toward him and his predicament.

"Well think of this, Indy…" Mandy had turned her attention back to Jones who had become the unofficial regulator of the conversation. The professor made a noise to show that he was listening to what she had to say: "Well at least time when you fight him he won't be much of a threat." A tricky smile wound across her face as she shrugged a single shoulder. Before Jones could say anything in agreement or disagreement, Mandy continued: "Answer me this question, SS Colonel Vogel, if you are now paralyzed from the waist down, aren't you useless to those guys?"

The American was surprised by her question. There was some truth behind it, but it did seem a little too bold, even for the situation in which the two found themselves. Indiana was slowly watching Vogel's temper flare up and the already short fuse getting shorter. It was only a matter of time before the ticking bomb went off and no one could tell what the damage was going to be. The German looked as though he had just been punched in the face for the red color that had started to rise in his face in an instant was gone. One thing that infuriated the colonel more than being spoken down to by subordinates was being called useless. His eyes just glared at the girl, but he could do nothing more because he would have to go through Jones first. Indiana felt his body tense as he sensed that Vogel was contemplating attacking.

"I am not useless…" The German said as his single good hand held and iron-grip upon the arm of the wheelchair.

Instead of fighting, he decided that it was better to take the fraulein's words and shove them back in her own face. He was going to prove her wrong, how he was going to prove her wrong. Dr. Jones watched as the former colonel's hand locked around the wheelchair, perhaps he was imagining that, instead of the chair, it was around Mandy's neck. Indiana's wondering was proven wrong when he noticed that Vogel had pulled himself forward in the chair, was he going to try something? He felt his hand clench, ready to fight if the time called for it. But, Jones's prediction was incorrect when he realized that the German was attempting to stand up. Mandy held her tongue as her attention was drawn to the blonde-haired man who had managed to push himself up from the chair. The sound of metal split the air as both the professor and the girl became aware of the fact that the German was wearing leg-braces.

Vogel grimaced as he planted his metal bound legs firmly on the floor; he knew from former experience that he could not rise for long periods of time. When he straightened, hot turrets of pain flashed down his back and into his legs causing a surprised gasp to fall from his mouth. His breathing had sped up audibly as his battered body stood defiant for those few precious seconds. The three had come to a turning point in their conversation and dealings with each other, for both Jones and Mandy threw each other strange glances whose expression could not be read by the German.

"Not useless…" The former colonel repeated to the girl.

Suddenly, there came the sound of a snap and the screech of creaking metal and Vogel fell back down into the wheelchair. It was clearly noticeable that his legs were shuddering violently in their braces. The German was panting in his effort, a gleam of defiant triumph shone in his cold blue eyes. He had proved his point and now all he had to wait for was a response from Jones's friend. His moment of conquest was shattered by what Mandy had to say next to her newfound foe.

"He can stand…" she comment, a hint of slight sarcasm apparent in her voice. She placed her chin in her hands as she continued, "maybe now he can leave you be, Dr. Jones."

Indiana shrugged. "Maybe so, Kid."

After that, Vogel silently cursed himself for being so intent that the mere action of standing up was going to settle his account with the American and his new hatred of the American's girl friend.

"So, Vogel, what are you doin' around here?" Jones asked.

"Hiding froom ze government," the former colonel answered the professor. He came to the conclusion that the simple answer would have to suffice for he knew that after he was going to be jumped for more by his two opponents. He felt like he was going through an interrogation room.

"What did you do this time?" Mandy asked. She was well aware that she was playing with fire, but she did not account for such a heated response. But, instead of backing down, she decided to level the playing field. The German looked as though at any moment he was going to snap, but the girl made sure that he was not going to hurt Dr. Jones. She was angry, but she was not going to make her emotion apparent. Nonchalantly she rose from the chair in which she was seated. If she was ever going to get Vogel out of Jones hair, this would be the one time that she could do it.

"Nozing…" The blonde-haired man persisted.

"Are you afraid of the government?" Mandy cut him off. "I'm sure the all the men back in Germany must feel like complete morons for having such a useless and pathetic colonel," She paused for a moment to take in a breath before she continued, "one who was beaten by one man and then thrown off a cliff." The girl leaned forward, "What was it like going back? Did they laugh at you or did they just wonder who the heck you were?" She tilted her head as though she was being serious about the questions. In truth, she was not, but it would be far more interesting to see what would happen now.

All hell broke loose in an instant; the storm had come and finally opened up its fury. Through out the entire monologue by the girl Vogel's face had grown beet red and his left eye had slowly started twitching as he tried to hold in his anger. Now he could not control himself any more. In a matter of seconds he had thrown himself from the chair straight at Mandy in a whirlwind of uncontrolled rage. Jones had expected this to happen, with almost superhuman speed, he pushed forward and stepped right between Vogel and Mandy. The two men collided and struck the table causing crystal glasses and delicate silverware to go flying in all directions. It seemed, in that instant, that everything happening at the restaurant froze as all attention was turned to the commotion that had erupted at the table near the window. People around them jumped away in shock that anyone had the gall to ruin the sublime atmosphere in the restaurant. Some women broke composure and screamed in surprise as though a mouse had gotten loose under their feet.

Indiana was easily knocked off balance and driven to the ground by Vogel's weight. Mandy was on her feet, but there was nothing more that she could do because it was not her fight to interfere with. Jones tried to get up, but he felt a single hand wrap around his neck and the burn of cold steel. The former colonel had latched himself to the American's neck and he showed no sighs of letting go. The professor tried to break free of the deadly grasp but could not; he tried to solve his problem by letting a punch fly in the German's direction. He heard a sickening crack; it had collided with Vogel's jaw. Indiana heard Vogel gasp in surprise and shock at what had just happed, the grip loosened around his neck and Jones was able to break free from the German's grasp.

Jones only managed to get the upper hand in the fight a few seconds as the former colonel quickly recovered and took a flying swing at Indiana's head with his fake –hand. If the American had been a few seconds slower he would have risked receiving a nasty wound to his skull, but luckily he saw the glimmer of steel out of the corner of his eye. With the reflexes of a cat, Jones managed to grab Vogel's wayward arm and halt it before any damage was done. He managed to get himself into a position where he could twist the arm behind his opponents back and that is exactly what he did. Using his weight, the professor pinned Vogel to the ground, rendering the German beaten. Jones let go of the breath that he had been holding, that had to be one of the quickest and cleanest fights he had ever gotten into. The former colonel flailed around trying to get loose. The American was having none of it, so to keep his opponent restrained even more he drove his knee into the small of Vogel's back.

Hot turrets of pain shot down the blonde-haired man's back. Before he could stifle it a shriek of hurt tumbled from his mouth. Adrenaline and more fiery rage flooded into his system seemingly to give him a newfound reserve of strength. The sound alerted Jones, but the next thing that he knew was that the once 'beaten' Vogel's hands were, again, wrapped around his neck. Jones suddenly found himself to be the one on the ground for the German had dragged him down and managed to pull himself over the American and was using his body and his elbows to keep Indiana's arms from moving. The professor couldn't breathe, he gasped for breath as he tried to use his legs to get free, but the only thing he managed to do was slide forward on the ground a bit. He gasped and sputtered as he was desperately trying to wriggle one arm free from under the former colonel's body.

Abruptly, Jones felt the weight lift off his chest and he could freely move his arms. Indiana quickly caught a glimpse of two very burly looking waiters pulling the snarling Vogel off of him. The German's arms still thrashed about as he tried to get away and finished the American off. His legs however, were useless in his struggle. Once again, the former Colonel had lost his chance to kill Jones at the hands of circumstance. Vogel was breathing hard, his face was red with anger as he was dragged toward the resteraunts back door to be evicted from the premise. Before he got pulled out of sight, he managed to shout something at Indiana: "Ich töte Sie, Dr. Jones," venom and hatred apparent in every word, "Wenn sein die letzte sache ich!" And with that, he was gone; the waiters had left his wheelchair at the table.