A mountain loomed in the distance.
A troop of soldiers walked through the jungle. The man in the lead stopped, and motioned for the others to walk around the mine he'd spotted. He shifted his large gun to a more comfortable position, and kept walking.
The man next to him had also seen the mine, but was impressed that his guide had seen it. They kept walking for some distance until they saw a clearing in the trees. The two men motioned for their troop to fall back as they eyed the bunker. In it, the Nazis held the spear of Longinus.
A drop of blood fell on the first man's smiley face button. They looked up. Several corpses hung in the trees above them. They looked at each other. These Nazis were monsters. The second man pulled out his fedora, and put it on his head resolutely.
Inside the bunker, there was a knocking on the door. The two men looked at each other, then quickly put away their cards and straightened up. One of them opened the slit to see who was behind the door, and two fingers shot through, embedding themselves in his eye.
The Nazi screamed in agony and fell to the ground. His partner grew red with rage, and opened the door, gun ready to shoot anything that moved.
He wasn't ready for the right hook.
As he fell to the ground on top of his partner, two men walked through the door. Indiana Jones walked down the hallway. The Comedian stopped, shot the screaming guard, and followed.
"They'll know we're here now." Dr. Jones said.
"So?" The comedian asked. "That means that now I can use my guns." Which he proceeded to do on the next soldiers to run down the corridor. They ran down the hallway, and came to the workshop, where everybody's guns were pointed at them. Indian leapt off the balcony, swinging his bullwhip. It latched onto the ceiling fan and he swung in a circle, Nazis shooting at him.
The Comedian proceeded to shoot anybody in the room who was shooting at Jones, and he leapt down onto the lab floor. He continued laying fire until only one soldier was left standing. He pointed and shot, but his gun clicked empty.
The Nazi laughed as the Comedian took out a pistol and fired. He missed every single time. "You zink you can stop me Vith zat clumsy veapon?" He took off his glove, to reveal the head of the spear of Longinus embedded in the skin of his hand. "I am infincible!"
Indiana dropped behind him and let fly his right hook. He missed.
"Fool!" The soldier cried, backhanding Indiana before drawing his gun. "I cannot be hit by any veapon! Including your puny fists! I am Captain Neglebun of ze zird Reich! I vield the spearhead of Longinus! You zink you can just, punch me?"
"Actually," Indiana muttered, smiling. "I think I can distract you."
The Nazi looked down at the grenade that had rolled between his legs. He looked back at the Comedian who was nonchalantly lighting a cigar.
"No." He said, just before the grenade went off. Indiana Jones and the Comedian ran down the hallway, as multiple explosions, set off behind them. They left the bunker just in time.
The explosion knocked them to the ground. They got up, bruised but otherwise okay. Indiana sighed. "The novelty of actually having a plan is shadowed by the fact that we had to improvise anyway."
"You had to improvise." The Comedian laughed. "I had to blow him up."
Suddenly, clicks were heard around them. They looked and saw that the Nazi soldiers had surrounded them, all pointing their guns at the two. Indiana whistled.
"If you were thinking of calling your men Dr. Jones, know that they are all dead." A young German captain walked to the forefront of his men. "I assume you killed Captain Neglebun?"
Indiana nodded.
"Good, he was getting ambitious. Now the question is, how did you kill the little war machine?"
"Easily." The Comedian grunted. "Kind of like this."
Suddenly, fire erupted around them. The two heroes got up and ran, as a round ship shaped like an owl flew down and doused the Nazi soldiers in napalm. After the troops were dispatch, a hatch lowered on the strange vessel, and they jumped on. Nite-owl let out a small victory yell and steered his ship home.
"Professor Jones."
Indiana woke up. He was asleep at is desk. The new Dean of Marshall College was at his door. He looked anxious. "You have a visitor. Remember when I said you weren't allowed to go off on any of your adventures if you wanted to continue working here?"
Indiana nodded.
The Dean hesitated. "Well… you can go on an adventure for this man." He left hurriedly.
Indiana was confused, until a regal figure stepped into his office. He wore a pinstriped purple suit, with gold cufflinks and necktie.
"Hello Ozymandias." He muttered.
"Are you familiar with, the Golden Wedge of Ophir Dr. Jones?"
He thought about it. "Yeah, I think I read it in Isaiah once. 'I will make man more precious than fine gold; even purer than the golden wedge of Ophir' or something like that."
Adrian nodded. "It was once in the possession of Alexander the great. I found one of the scrolls of the library of Alexandria mentioning it. That it was a knife of great power he used to cut the Gordian knot." He paused and looked at him meaningfully. "I want you to find it for me. For the museum I am funding."
Indiana shrugged. "There aren't many texts on the subject. It isn't like one of the most sought after objects in history."
"Actually," Adrian interrupted. "The Russians are indeed after it. As is your old friend, the Comedian."
Indiana sat upright in his chair. The Comedian was prone to destroying most of the artifacts they had come across in their adventures. If he got the wedge, it probably wouldn't survive the journey home.
"Who would send the comedian to get the wedge?"
"A man named Nikolas. Don't ask me about him, all I've got on the man is his name. And the fact that he was involved in the assassination of President Kennedy."
"I thought the Comedian was a true American? Why would he work for this Nikolas?"
Adrian shrugged. "All I know is what I know, and I know quite a lot but not everything. I'll pay all the expenses and point you in the direction the Russians and the Comedian have been pointed. I expect you to leave tomorrow morning."
He turned to leave, but Indiana stopped him. "Just one more thing, Mr. Veidt." He said. "You're smarter than me, younger than me, and according to what I've read, stronger and faster too. You're also rich. Why aren't you hiring a crack team of treasure hunters and going after this knife yourself?"
Adrian shrugged. "Well Dr. Jones, I've seen your resume. You are my crack team. You have led an illustrious life, a life that I almost envy. Not many people can claim that Adolph Hitler personally declared war on their family. And I know of only one other who can claim to have survived an atomic explosion. I have personally read the files on Russian psychic experiments, and have conducted many such experiments myself. That you have survived an encounter with Mrs. Spalko without having your brain turned to mush is in itself, impressive. You have far more experience dealing with supposedly mystical artifacts than anybody on this earth, let alone America. No Dr. Jones, I believe you are the only person qualified to find the knife. And of course, I have a business to run in the meantime."
He smiled, and took his leave.
Dan Dreiburg had grown fat over the years of inactivity.
"Time to wake up."
He jolted awake to see Rorschach staring at him. At least he assumed he was staring at him, it was disorienting looking at that mask.
"Rorschach! How are you?"
He grunted. Then gestured to the papers he'd put on Dan's bed. One was a picture of a man in a fedora. The other was a bank receipt.
"Veidt has paid a significant amount of money to a Dr. Jones. He has since left for small country in the middle of soviet territory. Why? What is Veidt doing? What is Jones doing? Why Jones?"
"Whatever it is, I doubt it's anything suspicious. Rorschach."
He tapped the receipt and Dan looked at the amount of money paid.
"Okay, well that is a significant amount of money. But what does that have to do with…"
Rorschach tossed a vanilla envelope onto the bed. "Nikolas."
"What?" Dan asked opening the envelope. There was a picture of a well groomed man, blonde hair, and to all appearances a normal person. There was another picture with him in front of a suburban home, with a wife and two children.
"Nikolas is a member of the F.B.I., and the only survivor of a recent raid on Area 51. He calls himself Harvey East, but his real name is Nikolas Von Hamlet. I tried to get into his house once. His 'neighbors' tried to shoot me. Highly trained marksmen, with high caliber Russian military grade sniper rifles. Speaking of which." He said, "You need a better lock."
Dan groaned. "Well? What does this Jones person have to do with Adrian or Nikolas?"
"Adrian made his payment to Jones exactly one day after a similarly large sum was paid to an Edward Blake. Blake and Jones are now in the same continent. Also, Blake was a veteran of World War II and the Vietnam War. Documents show that he served alongside Jones in a number of 'special missions' the nature of which is not known to me."
"It could just be a coincidence." Dan mumbled. He already knew what Rorschach would say.
"Coincidence is when you don't know who's pulling the strings. I think Blake has been sent to kill Jones who is on an important errand from Veidt. Or a dangerous one. Possibly involving archeology. Besides a war vet, and a professor, Jones has been on several archeological expeditions."
"So, why come to me with this?" Dan asked.
"I have no passport. I need a way to get across the world without being detected."
There was a silence.
Dan sighed. "You know where the keys are. Don't scratch it."
"You're not coming?"
"I'm retired Rorschach, I've told you that before."
Rorschach was silent for a moment. Then he turned to leave.
"Thanks for the ship Dan. And the ravioli."
