Tintin, the Tunnel, and Too Much TNT
Or What Haddock and Calculus were Better Off NOT Knowing
A/N: I wrote the first draft of this before I saw the Spielberg/Jackson movie.
Tintin and Snowy inched along the roof of the train doing their best imitation of pancakes as ceiling of the long tunnel whipped over head. The screaming wind seemed to be quoting the Red Queen's command… "OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!" (Not that Queen Axelle was from Wonderland.)
Tintin could have blamed Snowy for their current predicament, but that would have been unfair. He knew that Snowy couldn't stay out of trouble for more than three minutes. He should have known better than to turn his back on the terrier. His mind jumped back to the events at the Hotel du Prüm, surprised to realize that all this started less than an hour ago…
Tintin followed as the bellboy pushed the luggage down the corridor. He was annoyed at himself for oversleeping. They now had only an hour to catch the train to Hiltrude, capital of Lotharingia. As he strode along, he automatically checked his pockets to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He had his wallet, his passport, his notebook…
Crumbs! He'd left his moleskin notebook on the lamp table! He knew he should have put it into his pocket! He pivoted on his heel and headed back for his room. The bellboy hesitated. "Go on to the lobby," Tintin instructed. "Her majesty's agents will be expecting it." That is, if he hadn't already missed the luggage transfer. "I'll catch you up."
Snowy followed Tintin back to the room, wondering at the change of direction. Did this mean that they were going to take a nap? The fox terrier had a vision of himself being out on the spare pillow that Tintin had let him use.
Tintin opened the door. "Now, no lingering," he warned. "We're running late as it is."
Snowy wasn't sure what Tintin was talking about. However, he guessed from Tintin's quick movements that it was not nap time. Pity, those pillows had been really fluffy and comfortable.
Snowy's attention was quickly diverted from the canceled nap by an enticing odor… ham! Bacon! And was that… steak? He looked around and noticed that the maid was pushing a cart of used linens. Somebody, probably an American, must have had steak with their eggs. Left over steak meant there was a bone in that cart! He followed the maid and drooled as she stuffed her load of linen through a little door in the wall.
Discarded food was fair game! Snowy immediately leaped through the door. Tintin emerged from the room just in time to see Snowy disappear through the flap. He made a mad dash to grab the dog by a hind leg, but only succeeded in taking a header down the laundry chute. He thought he heard the maid mutter something about "crazy Americans. Part of him was miffed to be mistaken for an American, Belgians can be crazy, too! Mostly, he was relieved that he hadn't been recognized.
His sense of relief lasted until he hit the ground. Then all he could feel was a sense of suffocation, caused by having the wind knocked out of him and having more laundry land of top of him. He could hear Snowy gnawing on a bone, but couldn't collect himself enough to battle his way free of the linen. A moment later, he stopped trying to get free and concentrated on silencing Snowy.
The change was caused by some harsh voices. "Why didn't you get a timer?" Voice 1 demanded. "Bah," answered Voice 2. "I don't trust them. The fuse, she is much more reliable." "We can't be sure when it will go off!" argued Voice 1. "Au contraire! The fuse, she is more predictable than some ticky tocky clock!" insisted Voice 2.
Tintin didn't need a diagram to understand that the two men were talking about a bomb. The question was, where was it? As if to oblige the nosy reporter, Voice 2 continued, "There is enough fuse to let Axelle get to the bridge over the Lotharingia River! We'll destroy the queen, the train and the bridge all at the same time! It will be perfect!" "And if it rains?" sneered Voice 1, but Voice 2 merely laughed. "Rain won't get at the fuse! She is well hidden."
The two left and Tintin managed to struggle out of the linen cart. He grabbed Snowy, who was too involved in gnawing his bone to object. What to do next? By the time he found a telephone and made a call, the train would have already left. Great snakes! He was going to miss the train!
He made a mad dash to the lobby, where the hyper vigilant and efficient concierge bundled him into a taxi before he could even try to explain. The driver had clearly been briefed on the press conference that was to take place on the royal train as he made a mad dash to the station. Even if Tintin had wanted to enlist the man's help, he couldn't catch his breath enough to explain!
When they reached the station, Tintin heard a whistle signaling the imminent departure of Her Highness. He thrust a handful of coins and bills at the driver by way of payment and a tip and ran with Snowy tucked under his arm. The train had actually started moving when Tintin dashed onto the platform and swung on board the first carriage that he came to. He prayed that he'd boarded the correct train.
His prayer was answered a few minutes later when he saw a familiar face looking out the window of the carriage's door. He heaved a sigh of relief and reached for the door handle, only to have his fellow reporter, Jean Fabre of Le Soir, lock it.
"Hey!" Tintin protested.
Fabre smirked at him from inside. "What's the matter, boy wonder? Can't you tell time?"
"Jean! Let me in! I have to talk to the Queen, she's in danger!"
Fabre rolled his eyes. "Of course she is," he snapped. "That's why none of us will be permitted to talk to her until we reach the next stop. We'll be lucky if we get a word in edgewise even there, because we will be invaded by all sorts of bodyguards and detectives." Fabre went back to smirking. "Meanwhile, you can sit out here and contemplate your many sins... namely, all the times that you've scooped me."
"Blistering barnacles, Jean Fabre! Let us in right now!"
"You sound like Haddock!" Fabre laughed before he disappeared farther into the train.
"Now what are we going to do?" Tintin asked Snowy, not that he expected an answer.
Snowy didn't answer. Not understanding the situation, the terrier was content to crouch on the platform and gnaw on his steak bone. However, Tintin knew he had to stop that bomb. It didn't take him long to spot the ladder that led to the roof of the train...
The wind whistling around their ears threatened to rip them from their perch, bringing Tintin's attention back to the situation at hand.
They finally spotted ominous shape of the bomb on the coach just before the queen's carriage. This is when they realized that there were no ladders leading from the roof to the platforms of the queen's carriages.
"Great Snakes!" swore Tintin. "It's under the overhang of the carriage behind us, Snowy!"
*I can see it!* Snowy thought, growling at the bundled sticks of TNT. *Am I blind that I need you to narrate the story to me?*
They crawled as far up the lip of the carriage they were on as they could. Tintin leaned across the space between them and the bomb.
His grip slipped and he nearly went head first onto the track.
"WOAH!" Snowy cried, losing his steak bone. *Mind the GAAPP!*
"Crumbs! I can't reach! You're going to have to defuse it!" exclaimed Tintin over the roar of the wind and the rumble of the train.
"Woah!" Snowy protested. *ME?*
"There's only us here to stop it, and I don't think you can support my weight," Tintin explained.
"WOAH!" cried Snowy. *If you want support, get a St. Bernard!*
"You can do it!" Tintin encouraged. He pulled the belt from around his rather tattered trench coat and tied it around his wrist. Then he tied the other end around Snowy's middle. "My arms aren't long enough, Snowy, but my leg might be just long enough to get you within reach!"
"WOAH!"
"I know, it's a long shot, but if we don't do it, we'll all be killed in a horribly painful way!" Tintin shouted.
"Woah!" Snowy grumbled to himself. *So nice to have options!*
Tintin scooted as far off the edge as he dared, on hand clinging to something that Snowy couldn't see. He hoped that whatever it was had been anchored firmly.
Tintin stuck his left leg as close to the bomb as he could. Snowy inched his way across the plus-four clad bridge in an attempt to grab with waving, spitting fuse.
*Good thing this doesn't have a timer,* Snowy yelped. *I never did learn how to tell time!*
The fuse waved wildly, but not enough for it to leave shelter and get put out by the rain. Snowy flinched back as it nearly burnt his snout.
They could see the engine of the train emerge from the tunnel. When the caboose emerged, the engine would be on the bridge. "We're out of time! Grab it, Snowy! Grab it!" Tintin bellowed.
*I! AM! TRYING!* howled Snowy. Of course, all Tintin heard was "WOAH! WOAH! WOAH!"
As the fuse came whipping back, Snowy lunged. He snapped his jaws shut on the fuse just as the improvised safety rope came undone. The fox terrier slid off Tintin's leg and went whipping back and forth on the end of the fuse.
"SNOWY!" wailed Tintin. "Hang on, Snowy!"
*Oh, sure, NOW he gets worried about me!* snarled the fox terrier. He did not, however, bark. Letting go of the fuse would have been a very bad idea right then, especially as it was STLL BURNING!
Tintin whipped around and tied his belt around whatever it was that he had been holding onto. Then, using the improvised rope, he leaned out farther in an attempt to grab the oscillating terrier.
*Oh, yes, that worked SO well last time,* Snowy grumped through clenched teeth. He noticed something frightening out of the corner of his eye. The burning end of the fuse was almost to his mouth.
*Ohhelp.*
The moisture of his mouth extinguished the flame, of course. Unfortunately, by the time the fuse stopped burning, it had singed the side of his muzzle, causing him to reflexively release the source of the pain.
The fox terrier went flying just as Tintin made a flying leap and swung through the air.
"WOOOOOAHHHHHH!"
*THUMP*
They met in mid-air. The intrepid boy reporter hooked his elbow around Snowy's ribcage. The improvised trapeze slipped free of its mooring. Tintin and Snowy plunged off the train.
With a desperate grab, Tintin snagged the railing of the carriage the bomb was attached to. He cried out as his arm was yanked cruelly.
He was certain that his shoulder had been dislocated, but he did NOT let go. Fortunately, the momentum of his swing came to their rescue. They swooped around to the other side of the platform and Tintin managed to get one leg hooked around the railing.
Looking downwards, he could see the river underneath them. If they fell, he'd have to try to arc away from the train and hope they could survive the plunge…
This became a moot point as an armed man, who dressed in the uniform of a sergeant of the Queen's Own Bodyguard, stuck his head out the door. The sergeant gaped at the sight of boy reporter and fox terrier dangling from the railing of the Queen's personal carriage.
"Oh, hello," Tintin said blandly. "I believe Queen Axelle is expecting me. My name is Tintin."
The sergeant recovered his equilibrium and hauled Tintin to the platform. "The press conference isn't until we reach the next station. No exceptions!"
Tintin pointed to the overhang that had kept the dynamite dry and added. "I'm not here for an interview, I just wanted to tell you that there's a bomb on your train."
The sergeant became Tintin's friend for life when the boy reporter promised to never reveal that the sergeant had fainted at the sight of the bomb.
"Woah!" Snowy said, before licking the sergeant's face.
The sergeant woke up, looking ashamed. "What will the queen say?" he wondered.
"I have no idea what anybody will say about this," Tintin said. He looked up at the bomb and said to Snowy. "I think that maybe we shouldn't tell the Captain and the Professor about this. They might get upset."
Snowy rolled his eyes. *I can't imagine why,* he grumped to himself. "Woah!" was all he said aloud.