Doctor Jones tipped his fedora hat to cover the blinding rays of the sun as he studied the map of the desert area in Alexandria. He tried to ease his discomfort in his portable chair, a few yards from the excavation of their little group of Egyptologists, professors and investors. Their makeshift tents were futile against the blazing rays of the Mediterranean Sun. He wiped his brow with his handkerchief and sighed. At this point I'd rather be dipping in the hotel pool. But he knew he couldn't go back to the hotel for a short swim then come back to work on the site as travelling by jeep from the Mena Oberoi Hotel to the site would take 3 hours.
A faint sound of an engine led him to glance at the horizon, and soon an open-air desert red jeep came into view. He smiled in amusement as he recognized the lovely American at the passenger side. He admired her intelligence and sophistication, and her well-famed tenacity in advertising. But her independence and guts to travel by herself in the deserted area of Alexandria topped her innumerable assets in his book.
Doctor Jones helped her out of the jeep and was surprised to find her in a short exotic print kimono sleeved silk dress and flat gladiator crème sandals. "I hardly recognized you...," he joked.
"Doctor Jones! It's such a relief to see you after travelling a stretch of empty desert for what seemed like ages," greeted Angela.
"You don't expect me to be in business suit at this sweltering heat! How can you ever manage to look so fresh and handsome in your khaki pants, polo and jacket in this scorching desert is beyond me," she added.
He offered her a bottle of Sierra Springs and a portable seat beside him. "Let's cut the formality. I'll call you Angela. You call me Indiana...your attire does look cool and comfortable in this heat."
"You should all be digging in your boxers," she joked.
The highly educated and charming professor and the beautiful and smart advertising executive were busy flirtatiously kidding one another under the scorching heat that they didn't notice several Caucasian pairs of eyes lit up in devious delight at the sight of Angela. Several eyes that observe her like eyes of a tiger eyeing a potential prey.
"Her sudden appearance saves us the cumbersome task of abducting some unsuspecting local girl to offer the idols of the pyramid," said a dark-haired middle-aged man in khaki slacks to his companions.
"Do you think Dr. Jones got her here for that purpose?" asked his patronising assistant curiously.
A grey haired and bearded old professor from the same University interrupted in a wavering voice, "Indiana knows nothing about the legend...I...I never told him why there were always deaths in the past expeditions to this tomb. He never asked why I was pushing him to bring a female professor- Alice Crane for that matter but alas she got sick the last minute. "
ar"For someone as intelligent as Dr. Jones, he never had the critical mind of wondering or questioning you about those deaths," said the dark-hair middle-aged man.
"Mr. Keats, there was nothing suspicious about those deaths. Anyone can just brush them aside as mere accidents which are not unusual on archaeological expeditions," replied the bearded old colleague vehemently.
"Nothing suspicious? When the three deaths on those expeditions were all women archaeologists!" exclaimed a young archaeoligist.
"It matters not to me as long as I get my money's worth, it doesn't matter if we have to sacrifice the mother of the president!" said Mr. Yates.
"You'll get your money's worth," snapped Professor Keats.
"Well, how do you think Dr. Jones is going to react if something happens to his friend... whom he seems to be very fond of," said another respectable looking elderly man in spectacles as they watched Dr. Jones brush Angela's hair away from her eyes as they laugh at something the men couldn't hear.
"It will break his heart naturally, but just like what Professor Plum said, 'it can easily be considered a horrible accident'. Pity, she's such a doll," said the menacing looking investor.
The men climbed out of the excavation pit through the little stairs they've built to easily climb in and out of Egyptian Catacomb and leisurely approached the pair seated under the comfortable covering of the tent.
"...I'll take you for a camel ride tomorrow," laughed Indiana as the men took shelter beneath the wide tent.
Before Angela could reply amiably, the dark-hair middle aged man spoke.
"Oh come on, Dr. Jones, this is not a picnic. We're here on business, why don't you bring our lovely lady under the dugout so she can discover the recesses of the catacomb. I'm sure she'll find it very entertaining."
Indiana smiled good-naturedly. "Oh, Angela, this is Professor Keats, his assistant- Marcus. This is Mr. Yates, our patron and financier, and you know Professor Plum from the University, and Mr. Thompson and his group of archaeologists who are into this project of reviving the excavation of the tomb of Pharaoh Rameses III. I'll show you his tomb and that of his daughter Princess Melacorta."
Angela shook hands with the gentlemen and flashed them her smile that breaks too many a heart. "It's good to be in the company of intelligent and distinguished gents of the field of Archaeology. I'm sure I'll enjoy myself learning about history and anthropology, and those old relics and things you dig out."
Indiana turned back to the professor. "You're right, Professor Keats. I'll take Angela on tour underground tomorrow instead of that camel ride. Now is not a good time. Dusk is fast approaching. It will be dark in a few hours. It wouldn't be safe for her to be exploring the desert at night. I better take her back to the hotel."
Indiana and Angela said their farewells as they climbed into the open-air jeep.
"Rats! We could have opened the gate tonight if Dr. Jones had brought her below," muttered Marcus.
"Relax Marcus. There is enough time. Tomorrow we shall open the gates that hold the treasure of Pharaih Rameses III."
