Disclaimer: see chapter 1

"I'm Indiana."

Her brain couldn't comprehend what he just said. Her civilizations teacher had just said he was Indiana. He had the artifact that played a prominent role in getting her mother's tavern burned down. It couldn't be right. She laughed nervously. "No, no you're not."

"Yes, I am." He pulled out some old newspapers and opened them to several key articles. RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK. His picture appeared beneath the title. ARK OF COVENANT FOUND. His picture was there, too. He placed a small, faded picture next to the articles; it was of him and Mother. She shook her head in confusion. Her eyes widened even more to a look of complete and utter disbelief. Her pulse quickened, and her breathing became faster and shallower. Finally, he pulled out the items Mother had described so many times: a small hand gun, a beat-up leather jacket, a well-worn, wide brimmed fedora, and a hand braided leather bullwhip. Her expression changed from disbelief to shock. Then she blacked out.

Indy leapt over the desk to kneel by his daughter's unconscious form, barely in time to see what had caused her to drop. He looked up at the young man holding a rifle, back end up. The boy looked rather nervous. He spared a quick glance in Anna's direction, and determined she had only been knocked out. He then turned his attention back to the attacker. He was no more than eighteen, probably not even out of high school. In fact, Indy recognized him as a student who dropped out several weeks ago.

"Come with me," the youth said quickly. He was breathing heavily; obviously unsure of what he was doing.

"Why?" Indy said, rising slowly from his crouching position.

"The boss needs your expertise." He replied.

"In what, exactly?" Indy edged toward his desk, only a few feet behind him.

"Archeology. What else?" the boy grinned.

"I'm a bit rusty, I'm afraid…" Just about three more feet…

You'll remember you're training, don't you worry." The boy was gaining confidence, Indy had to be careful.

"There are others who have done more in that field than I have, why not one of them?" Just another foot…

"Boss wanted the best…the one and only Indiana Jones."

"There's a name I haven't heard in a while." He admitted freely. He was backed against the desk now; he fumbled his right hand discreetly among the items on it. He found what he was looking for, and grinned inwardly, hoping the boy wouldn't notice that he no longer held power over him. "I wouldn't be afraid to bring it back, though!" Indy swung his whip over his head, and cracked it in front of him. The boy stood in wonder, seeming to forget that he still held a loaded gun. Just what Indy was waiting for. He cracked his whip again, hitting the boy's hand and knocking the rifle out of his reach. The boy stood in bewilderment, resembling a deer in headlights; torn between facing the onslaught and fleeing to safety. "Back away," Indy said, cracking his whip again for emphasis. The boy stepped back. Indy grinned. He liked this. "Keep going." The boy refused to move, and was looking at something over Indy's shoulder. He turned around and saw something large and heavy swinging toward his face. The next thing he remembered was waking up in what slightly resembled a jail cell.

He sat up from his position of lying on the floor, and surveyed his surroundings. He was in a cell, alright, his daughter on the floor next to him. On the other side of the bars, on the opposite wall, was a doorway, which led up a short flight of stairs. He could see sunlight coming in through it. He peered around, and saw a man sitting at a desk playing with a deck of cards. His coat, hat, gun, and trusty whip were on the desk, too. The window beside the desk was open, and a fresh, sea-smelling breeze wafted into the room. Somewhere near the ocean…Indy thought. The floor creaked, and the building seemed to lurch forward. On the ocean…great. Absolutely brilliant. Indy groaned, and rubbed his left cheekbone where he'd been hit. There was an open wound, and it was still bleeding slightly. He'd figured he'd only been out for a couple of hours; three tops. He rose to his knees at the sound of approaching footsteps.

A man in his mid-to-late fifties entered. He was about six feet tall, slender, well built. He had a long face with a pointed chin, and snow white hair combed back neatly. He wore a tan, tailored suit with a white shirt and no tie, and he held no ill-will toward wearing showy jewelry. His leather boots announced his arrival long before he was in view. He reeked of arrogance. "Doctor Henry Jones Jr. Or should I call you Indiana?" He smirked, revealing a single gold tooth in the two otherwise complete rows of teeth.

"Doctor Jones should suffice." Indy replied, watching his movements carefully.

"You really should clean that up," the man said, referring to Indy's wound. He moved purposefully about the room; much the way a shark would before it made its move. "I believe you know of an old associate of mine."

"And who might that be?"

"One mister Renee Belloq. Of course, as you know, he is deceased. A shame, really. He spoke quite fondly of you."

Indy remembered him. That sorry fool stole everything he'd worked so hard to get. He'd risked his life for the museums, and Belloq nearly made him lose it. He remembered sitting on the ground somewhere in the Amazon, holding a golden idol that he'd nearly died trying to get. Belloq only smiled, and his words echoed through Indy's head. "Again we see that there is nothing you possess which I cannot take away." He remembered looking up at him from the Well of the Souls, where Belloq had called down to him, "Perhaps in a thousand years, even you may be worth something!" Indy remembered him.

"He told me you were brilliant at…how do you say it…cheating fate? You seemed able to avoid death no matter what happened. That could prove a useful skill."

Indy didn't like the direction this was taking. "Why would this prove useful to you?"

"We, that is, myself and my associates, happened upon the ruins of an ancient city in the depths of the forests of Peru. We believe that great wealth may be acquired there. In fact, we are currently en route as we speak. Surely you remember the idol I spoke to you on the phone about?"

"Why should I help you?"

"You may get a cut of the prize." The man's voice became deadly serious "And if you don't…" He nodded in the direction of Anna, still on the floor. "We'll get…creative." With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered back up the stairs.

Anna stirred, and groggily lifted her head. "What happened?"

"We've been kidnapped."

"Oh. Am I dreaming?"

"Nope."

"Darn." She sat up, and gingerly felt the lump that had appeared on the back of her head. "So, you're Indiana. Well, nice meeting you. Wish you could have been there for us. I'm sure we would have gotten along quite well." She stood. "Alright, if you are who you say you are, I can see why'd you'd end up here, but what does this whole situation have to do with me?"

Indy hung his head, not wanting to deal with anything except what to do next. "Look, kid, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Thanks to you!" her voice rose. She didn't need this right now. All she needed was a high school diploma and some money. Any thoughts of such things were shattered by the man who claimed to be the one and only Indiana. "You were the one who called me into your office in the first place! How do I know that you're not in on this whole thing?"

"If I was, do you really think I'd be in here too? I'm bruised, battered, and bleeding. If I was in on this, you'd think I would be smart enough not to hurt myself too bad."

He had a point. "Fine. I get it. How do we get out?" If this man was who he claimed, than he could probably save them both. And that was all she wanted; to get out.

"We don't. We wait."

"What?" How could that help us?

"Right now, we need to keep the status quo. They need me to get what they're after. Until they've got what they want, they can't do anything. If we try to escape now, we'll only end up back here."

"What's that suppose to mean? If we get out, we can run, and find help, and--"

"No we can't. We're stuck here. We're out at sea going to wherever the heck they want to go."

Anna scoffed and slumped against the wall. She realized that he was right. She felt the waves gently rocking the ship. She saw the man guarding their cell, entranced with his cards; the keys buckled against his hip. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "So...we wait?"

"Yes, we wait."

Well, this stinks. Indy sat on the floor, waiting. He looked at Anna who slept restlessly against the wall. Why did she have to get involved? She doesn't deserve this. She has no idea what is going on. This is all my fault, just like Brody. He cupped his head in his hands, and shook it slowly, in hopes that he might clear it. He looked up at the sound of approaching boots.

"As I'm sure you've guessed, we intend to use you to retrieve the idol. We will dock in Mexico when we cross the border. We will then fly into Cuzco, Peru and make our way to the temple in the surrounding area, where you will help us." He paced slowly in front of the cell, stopped, and grinned. "By the way, we've never been properly introduced. You may call me Professor Damien Picarde." With that, he left, shouting orders to those above deck.

Indy turned and looked longingly at his whip and revolver on the desk. How he wished he could have used them. He sat back roughly, disturbing Anna.

"Have we docked yet?" she asked, irritated.

"No. we have to cross the border first."

"What?! What border? What are we doing crossing the border? Are they out of their minds?"

"I guess so."

"Will they let me go when we get there? I'm of absolutely no use to them; I don't know anything at all about archeology." She looked at Indy.

He ignored the direct insult to his teaching and replied. "No; they're using you as a playing card. They know I will do what they want, so long as they don't hurt you. If they get rid of you, they lose their card."

Anna stared. "Well, why do you care? You don't even know me. I'm just another student, as far as you're concerned." She crossed her arms in front of her, and turned her back to him. She didn't care. This wasn't her problem. If he wanted to 'protect' her, that was his own stupid decision. She could take care of her own needs; after all, that's what she'd been doing for as long as she could remember.

"Anna," that was the first time he'd said her name since he'd called her into his office back at the school, "I don't know what you've been through, I have no idea what this is like for you, suddenly meeting your long-lost dad. But we really need to focus on getting out of here. We can save the other stuff for our flight home." he sounded more and more like the Indiana that Mother had described. She couldn't help but smile, if only for a second, before she turned to face him again.

"Fine. First thing's first, what the heck am I going to call you? Dr. Jones? Henry? I'm certainly not calling you 'dad,' and I can't call you Indiana; that's my name." she grinned at that, finally feeling proud of it. Indy laughed.

"Indy will do, thanks."