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"The Phantom of the Gala"
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INDIANA JONES AND THE GOLDEN AGE #03
Written by D. David Lee
Edited by Tommy Hancock
The YesterYear Fan Fiction Group acknowledges that names, concepts, and images of characters used here and ALL related characters may be owned by others and that said owners retain complete rights to said characters. These names, concepts, and images are used WITHOUT permission for NO PROFIT, but rather a strong desire to peer into the potential these characters have in a combined setting. This also acknowledges that original concepts presented here are the intellectual property of the author.
***
June, 1938
The smoke-filled meeting room was cast in shadow as plans were made for the big job. Benny Zephro was next in line to inherit the title of head of the Zephro crime family and become the Boss of Bosses of the New York Syndicate. Less than a year had passed since his two brothers, Ray and Charlie Zephro, had been destroyed by Xander Drax and his ruinous obsession with the Sengh Brotherhood.
Faith in the Zephro line had been shattered by these failures, and it was time for Benny to live upto his family name and restore that faith, not to mention his rightful place at the head of the syndicate. "So we're all set, boys? Everybody know what to do?"
"Sure, Boss," said Vinnie, the largest specimen amongst the ranks of his hired muscle. "It don't take no genius to figure out how to run a simple heist." He had an odd habit of shifting the muscles in his shoulders while he talked that was quite distracting.
"This ain't no dime store, boys. Some of the richest people in town are gonna be at this here shindig, and I don't want any foul ups. We pull this off, and it'll be big news on every newspaper in the country. The other crime bosses won't have no choice but to gimme the respect I deserve."
Taking a drag out of his cigar, Benny Zephro chuckled dramatically, smiling at no one in particular. Soon he would have what always should have been his.
***
New York: The Palmer Estate [Afternoon]
"I want those place settings absolutely perfect. Be sure not to seat the Buchanans next to the Wilsons. They just haven't gotten along since that Gatsby incident. And did you remember to order more flowers? The presentation just won't be perfect without some more orchids..." said Lily Palmer, fully in control of a veritable army of servants.
Diana watched her mother with a complex combination of awe, admiration, and chagrine as she herself had little use for such pompous social gatherings, but never failed to be impressed by their grandeur and elegance.
"And how is the Field Marshall doing?" asked Kit, sidling up behind his girlfriend to whisper in her ear. "No mutinies or court martials, yet?"
"Are you kidding?" asked Diana, turning to offer Kit a smile and accept a light kiss on the cheek. "If Kabai Sengh had been half as commanding and organized, we would never have defeated him."
Chuckling, Kit led Diana away from all the hustle and bustle, knowing that the situation was well in hand under the direction of Diana's mother. "I certainly wouldn't want her as an enemy."
Punching Kit playfully in the side, Diana smiled and rested her head against Kit's shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Lily Palmer took a short moment to watch them go. The wealthy doyenne didn't approve of her daughter's desire to travel and wasn't at all certain that this Kit Walker was someone she approved of as a future son-in-law. After all, Jimmy Wells, who had always been taken with her daughter, traveled in much more impressive social circles.
Indeed, she knew very little about Mr. Walker or his family, other than the fact that her daughter seemed to have eyes only for him and that her brother-in-law considered him a young man of great promise. Still, he was not nearly as well-connected as Jimmy Wells, who had always been very enamored of her daughter. Even so, Lily had yet to form an opinion, but in the final analysis, her approval would most certainly be difficult to win.
***
New York: The Palmer Estate [Evening]
Limousine after limousine pulled into the driveway of the Palmer Estate as the annual gala event began. Famous socialites the world over arrived to pay their respects and mingle with the best and brightest of the social elite. Most were successful businessmen and their wives, but some few were celebrities or academicians of note.
"Dr. Henry Jones, Senior, Dr. Marcus Brody, and Dr. Henry Jones, Junior," announced the servant at the door as three elegantly-dressed gentlemen walked in. Both Marcus and Indy's father had chosen to wear traditional, dark tuxedos whereas Indy sported a white-jacketed tuxedo instead, something he'd picked up during his last trip to Shanghai.
"Good evening! I'm so glad that you could make it to our little soiree," said Lily, who always made a point of personally greeting every guest as soon as he or she arrived. Indeed, she took great pride in being the perfect host.
"Not at all," said Marcus, kissing her hand in gentlemanly fashion. "It's the perfect opportunity to thank you personally for your contributions to the museum over the years, which have been more than generous."
Indy's father repeated Marcus' gesture, also kissing the lady's hand. "And it just wouldn't do to turn down the invitation of so gracious a lady." Gesturing towards Indy, he continued, "I believe you are also familiar with my son?"
Indy kissed the lady's hand as well, as his father and Marcus had. Slightly uncomfortable, as he always was at events like this but especially so in his father's presence, he half expected her to ruffle his hair as if he were still a boy, ten years of age. "Thank you for having us, Mrs. Palmer." He resisted the sudden urge to put his hands in his pockets and shuffle his feet.
"So you're the famous archaeologist I've heard so much about," said Lily, doing her best to be charming. "Where will your next excavation be taking place?"
"Actually, I'm going to be doing a tour of archaeological sites throughout Europe on behalf of the London museum," said Indy. "I'm still in the middle of forming my team, but I should be well underway by next month."
"Oh, really?" asked Lily, extremely intrigued. "You know, I think Kit Walker would be an excellent addition to your team. He's a trained engineer with a masterful knowledge of folklore. I think it would do the boy some good to see more of the world."
"Really? Well, I'll be sure to talk to him about it," said Indy, trying to be polite.
"Good. Sometimes that boy acts like he was raised on an island of primitives. A broader perspective is just what he needs," said Lily, all the time thinking that her daughter needed some time away from Kit.
Still smiling graciously, Lily Palmer excused herself as the next guest to arrive was announced. Marcus and Brody left Indy to mingle with the older crowd, and Indy made his way to the open bar, ordering himself a vodka martini. He nearly spit it out when the next guest was announced.
"Chattar Lal, the Prime Minister to Zalim Singh, the Maharajah of Pankot Palace in India." A severe-looking man impeccably dressed in a black tuxedo, the Thuggee cult member who had tried to have Indy killed about three years ago.
"Hey, buddy, you alright?" asked the bartender, who looked at Indy strangely.
Coughing into his hand, Indy indicated that he was alright. He also tried to ignore the distracting way that the huge bartender kept shifting his shoulder muscles as he talked.
***
"Quite a turnout, wouldn't you say?" asked Dave Palmer, Diana's favorite uncle. "I guess it's true what they say. No one would dare not attend one of Lily's parties," he continued, carefully looking about to make sure that his sister-in-law wasn't within hearing distance.
Diana and Kit both chuckled in response, also keeping a wary eye out. "And people say that conspicuous consumption is going out of style," said Diana, looking about at all the famous personages gathered in her uncle's home.
Trying to spot a familiar face, she finally noticed Dr. Indiana Jones, who was speaking with an Indian gentleman at the far side of the room, making their way towards the historical wing. "Uncle Dave, who's that Indian gentleman?" she asked, indicating the man in question.
Uncle Dave wracked his brain for a minute or two until Jimmy Wells piped in, snapping his fingers as he came up with a name. "That's Chattar Lal, the Prime Minister of some place in India. He's here to oversee the loan of some artifacts to the Museum of Natural History. My mother is handling the project," said Jimmy, who was still trying to impress Diana in any way he could.
"No social gathering would be complete without a few foreign dignitaries, I suppose," said Kit, who'd already met more barons and duchesses this evening than he ever had before. "I wonder how Indy knows him..."
***
"Greetings, Dr. Jones," said Mr. Lal, who stood at rigid attention as he addressed Indy. Alone in the historical wing, they were finally able to speak to each other in private. "I had hoped I would be able to meet with you during my brief visit to your country."
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," said Indy, trying not to look too uncomfortable. Turning away to admire the antiquities that were part of David Palmer's private collection, his gaze passed by several primitive weapons of war, including a bullwhip of Spanish design. "You see, I thought you were dead."
"Try not to look so distressed, Dr. Jones. Not all deaths are permanent, and the expression on your face plainly betrays your thoughts," said Lal, who apparently bore Indy no malice.
"Does that mean you're not here to kill me?" asked Indy, the hint of a smile starting to creep up around the corners of his mouth.
"Dr. Jones, I bear you no hatred, and neither do the Thuggee. We are an ancient culture, and for thousands of years, we have protected India in the service of Kali. Mola Ram was a mad priest, willing to destroy his own people in the name of the goddess. Indeed, I am quite grateful for your assistance in ending his terrible reign."
Somewhat stunned at this revelation, it took some time for Indy to stammer out a response. "You're... welcome," he said. "And I'm sorry about... what happened."
"There is nothing to be sorry for," said Lal. "The black blood of Kali can pervert the will of any man, as you well know, but it can also preserve a man against injuries that would otherwise kill him. You have done no permanent injury to me, and your actions have earned you the blessings of both Kali and Shiva."
"So good fortune follows me, does it?" asked Indy, who didn't feel very blessed considering what he'd been through during the past few years. Indeed, he sometimes thought he was besieged by bad luck.
And just as these thoughts occurred to him, all hell broke loose.
***
Shortly after the last guest was announced, a man in a pin-striped suit nodded towards the largest bartender, who nodded back. He then pulled out a tommy gun and fired into the air. This action was followed by a number of ladies' screams as well as follow-up gunshots by other employees of the catering service that had been hired for the occasion. Two of these armed men moved to close the main doors, and others moved to guard the other exits and entrances to the main ballroom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please try not to be too alarmed! This is a robbery. Everyone, donn on the floor! If you will just remove your valuables and pass them to the men with the bags, no one will get killed! You have my word of honor," said Benny Zephro, holding a pistol in one hand and a smoking cigar in the other.
The head butler had the presence of mind to attempt to call the police, only to find that the lines were dead, and lights in all rooms but the main ball room were suddenly cut.
***
"Was that gunfire? What happened to the lights?" asked Lal, who was unaccustomed to such situations and somewhat alarmed, as much as his British schooling would allow. "It sounds like there's a robbery in progress."
"Don't worry," said Indy, taking off his jacket and moving to grab the whip from the Spanish collection. "It's just my blessings catching up with me. Sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but this kind of thing happens to me all the time."
"No need for apologies, Dr. Jones. I can understand your irritation."
***
Extremely chagrined by the fact that a robbery was taking place at one of her parties, Lily Palmer just knew that she would never be allowed to live it down. Left with few options, she did the only thing a woman of high society could do in such an embarassing situation. She fainted dramatically, right into young Jimmy Wells' arms.
"Don't worry, mom, everything will be alright," said Diana, trying to rouse her mother back to consciousness.
"I sincerely doubt that," said Uncle Dave, looking quite grim. "We've all seen their faces, and I doubt that this is just a robbery. That's Benny Zephro, Ray Zephro's younger brother. He's probably trying to take over his brother's position, and you don't do that by making stupid mistakes like letting witnesses live."
Pulling Diana close, he tried to reassure her. "Still, from what I've heard, he might just be stupid enough to let us live or try to ransom us instead. Benny's not supposed to be very bright," he said under his breath. Looking around, he suddenly noticed that someone was missing. "Wait a minute. Where's Kit?"
"Um... he left to grab something from the wine cellar," said Diana, crossing her fingers behind her back.
"Well, I hope he knows well enough to stay hidden and out of sight," he said.
"Don't worry, Uncle Dave, I'm sure Kit knows what to do."
***
Stepping as lightly as a jungle cat, Kit made his way upto his room. He berated himself silently for not wearing his Phantom costume underneath his clothes as he'd been taught, and he was certain he would never hear the end of it.
"Situation looks grim, son. Armed criminals lie hidden at every turn, and over a hundred hostages are at risk. A difficult situation," said the apparition that was Kit's father. "But it might be a lucky break. I think you've become far too complacent since you stopped Kabai Sengh."
"Yes, dad. Sorry, dad. I'll try to do better next time, dad," said Kit, trying to keep the edge out of his whisper. "But could you save the lecture for next time? I'm kind of busy right now."
"Well, I can see that," said the apparition, trying not to sound too critical but not trying very hard. "Things are happening in the world, and it needs the Phantom now more than ever. Do you even have a plan of action, yet?"
"I'm working on it, dad. Phase one is to get into costume," said Kit, just as he got to his room, only to find that there was someone in there rifling through his belongings, a man with a gun.
Sneaking up behind him, Kit knocked him unconscious with a classic karate chop to the neck. He then proceeded to blindfold and gag the man, binding him with rope. Pulling his suitcase out of the closet, Kit proceeded to open the secret compartment and don his costume.
Soon, the Phantom would be ready to deal with these invaders.
***
"Excuse me, sirs, but who are you and what are you doing here?" asked Lal, who seemed not at all perturbed by the guns being held by the two mobsters in the process of rolling up a portrait painted by Rembrandt.
"Who the hell are you?" asked the smaller of the two, pointing his weapon in Lal's direction. Out of nowhere, the sound of a whip cracked, and the muzzlue of that mobster's weapon was pointed at the other. Shots were fired, and the larger mobster fell to the ground, dead. A sudden tug quickly disarmed the remaining mobster and Indy rushed forward out of the shadows, ramming a solid right cross into the man's glass jaw.
"Well, that was exciting," said Lal, watching the man in the badly-tailored suit crumple to the floor.
"And it's not over. That gunfire will attract more of them very soon, said Indy, grabbing one of the guns and handing the other to Lal. "I hope you're a good shot."
"Of course. No British education would be complete without an understanding of firearms."
***
"My Lord, Henry, what in the world is happening now?" asked Marcus, having heard the gunfire coming from beyond the main ballroom. "Do you think it could be the police, coming to our rescue?"
"No, Marcus, it's not the police," said Henry, trying not to be overheard by any of the hired guns present. "There was gunfire but no accompanying sound of sirens."
"How dreadful," said Marcus, trying not to look too disappointed. "I hope nothing worse has come up. Do you think anyone was hurt?"
"I hope not, old friend. If I'm not mistaken, whatever is going on out there, Junior has something to do with it."
***
"What the hell was that?!" asked Zephro, smacking Vinnie in the face but barely fazing him. "I thought I said no one was supposed to get shot until I said so!"
"Sorry, Boss. The boys casing the rest of the joint must have run into trouble," said Vinnie, who was surprisingly apologetic for a man of his size. "It won't happen again."
"Yeah, well go make sure. If the boys ran into trouble, there's a chance it's still out there," said Zephro, poking his index finger forcefully into Vinnie's chest. "Take some more boys and check it out."
"Right, Boss," said Vinnie, whistling for most of Zephro's other men to join him, leaving only two behind with the Boss.
***
Bullet after bullet whizzed by Indy's head as a group of the mobsters held him pinned behind an overturned table with their covering fire. "Got any ideas how to get out of this, Lal?" asked Indy, who had already run out of bullets himself.
"I am sorry, Dr. Jones, but I am also out of bullets, and as a result, out of ideas as well," replied Lal, somewhat dismayed that death should come for him so far from his homeland. "What we need is a miracle."
"Call me, Indy. All my friends do," he said, clapping Lal on the shoulder. "And now would be a good time for Kali and Shiva to make good on those blessings you told me about."
Out of nowhere, a purple blur streaked out of nowhere, diving for one of the fallen guns. He finished the dive in a roll that ended with him regaining his feet. Quickly, the purple-clad stranger fired at the guns being held by the remaining mobsters, rendering them useless.
Closing his eyes and smiling, Chattar Lal took a moment to give thanks. "Ask and you shall receive. Is this not correct, Indy?"
Appropriately chagrined, Indy accepted the jibe graciously. He deserved it. Getting up quickly, he ignored the ridiculous appearance of the masked man in the purple costume and prepared to join the fray.
"I am the Ghost Who Walks, the Man Who Cannot Die!" he said, gesturing at the mobsters imperiously. For their part, the mobsters seemed mesmerized by his words, hesitant to attack. That is, they were hesitant until Vinnie ordered them to attack.
"Don't just stand there gawking! Get him!" yelled Vinnie, advancing on Indy as the rest of the boys charged the Phantom.
"Why do the big ones always come after me?" asked Indy of no one in particular. Ducking Vinnie's first punch, Indy hammered him with three quick punches to the gut. Looking up at Vinnie's smiling face, he could see that his blows were having no effect. "Uh oh..." he said as Vinnie's meaty fist came slamming into his face, knocking him to the floor and across the room.
Seeing stars, Indy tried to shake the cobwebs from his brain as Vinnie advanced. Off to the side, he saw the self-proclaimed Phantom dodging blows left and right, apparently using a combination of karate and jujitsu to belay his opponents. Indy was surprised by how well this Phantom was doing against so many, but he was even more surprised to see Chattar Lal jump on Vinnie's back, trying to strangle him.
Enraged, Vinnie tried to shake Lal off, and Indy used the distraction to attack him with his whip, wrapping it around his legs. Pulling with all his might, Indy forced Vinnie onto his back, and by accident, right on top of Lal.
"Ouch, that had to hurt," said Indy, wincing as he advanced. Straddling Vinnie, Indy started hammering him with left cross after right hook, slamming the man's head into Lal's unprotected midsection. Even Vinnie couldn't take that kind of punishment for long, and eventually, he was knocked out.
"Lal, are you alright?" asked Indy, grabbing Vinnie's unconscious body and heaving with all his might to pull him off of his new ally.
"No," said Lal, coughing and taking a deep breath. "But I will be. Just don't ask me if I'd ever do that again. How is our miraculous friend doing?"
Looking up, Indy saw this Phantom person standing triumphant over a multitude of mobsters, carefully pulling his mask back into place. Apparently, it had been slightly loosened during the battle. Catching the briefest glimpse of his face, Indy whispered something silently, under his breath. "Kit?"
***
Back in the main ballroom, Benny Zephro and his remaining henchmen were becoming nervous and agitated. It sounded like a war was going on out there, but they didn't dare leave the large mass of people unguarded. Also, it didn't help that the marks were becoming agitated as well, wondering what was going on.
"Everybody, shut up!" yelled Zephro, firing a shot or two in the air, enough to push an already frightened Mrs. Wells over the edge. Screaming, she ran for the double doors leading into the hall and Zephro ordered one of his henchmen to grab her and keep her from escaping. "Aaagh!!!"
Zephro's flunky caught up with her just as she reached the doors, and at that moment, they burst open, revealing a man dressed scandalously in a skintight purple costume. "Aaagh!!!" screamed Mrs. Wells, even louder than before, and chaos erupted in the room.
First, the Phantom leaped forward with a flying kick, easily knocking out the henchman that had been harassing Jimmy Wells' mother. Then, Benny Zephro took aim at the strange man in the purple underwear, only to have his gun ripped out of his hand by the strike of a whip. And finally, when the last henchman took aim at Indy, it was Indy's father and Marcus Brody who restrained his gun arm, forcing the man to fire harmlessly into the air, and Diana Palmer who balled her right hand into a fist to knock him out.
***
Very soon, all of the would-be criminals were properly restrained, and just as mysteriously as he had appeared, the Phantom was gone. The police arrived to take Zephro and his gang into custody, and all was once again right with the world.
Lily Palmer was revived and taken to her room, and Diana did her proud by apologizing to all the guests, just as graciously as decorum dictated. Kit Walker was at her side, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Indy staring at him curiously from the far side of the room.
But as soon as Kit was looking Indy's way, Indy was looking elsewhere, introducing his father and Marcus Brody to Chattar Lal, saying little about how they'd first met.
A feeling of camaraderie swept throught the assemblage, and spirits were suddenly high. Tragically, however, the party had come to a most definite end.
***
End of Indiana Jones and the Golden Age #03
***
Dave's Homepage
http://home.hawaii.rr.com/shaxberd/
"The Phantom of the Gala"
*************************
INDIANA JONES AND THE GOLDEN AGE #03
Written by D. David Lee
Edited by Tommy Hancock
The YesterYear Fan Fiction Group acknowledges that names, concepts, and images of characters used here and ALL related characters may be owned by others and that said owners retain complete rights to said characters. These names, concepts, and images are used WITHOUT permission for NO PROFIT, but rather a strong desire to peer into the potential these characters have in a combined setting. This also acknowledges that original concepts presented here are the intellectual property of the author.
***
June, 1938
The smoke-filled meeting room was cast in shadow as plans were made for the big job. Benny Zephro was next in line to inherit the title of head of the Zephro crime family and become the Boss of Bosses of the New York Syndicate. Less than a year had passed since his two brothers, Ray and Charlie Zephro, had been destroyed by Xander Drax and his ruinous obsession with the Sengh Brotherhood.
Faith in the Zephro line had been shattered by these failures, and it was time for Benny to live upto his family name and restore that faith, not to mention his rightful place at the head of the syndicate. "So we're all set, boys? Everybody know what to do?"
"Sure, Boss," said Vinnie, the largest specimen amongst the ranks of his hired muscle. "It don't take no genius to figure out how to run a simple heist." He had an odd habit of shifting the muscles in his shoulders while he talked that was quite distracting.
"This ain't no dime store, boys. Some of the richest people in town are gonna be at this here shindig, and I don't want any foul ups. We pull this off, and it'll be big news on every newspaper in the country. The other crime bosses won't have no choice but to gimme the respect I deserve."
Taking a drag out of his cigar, Benny Zephro chuckled dramatically, smiling at no one in particular. Soon he would have what always should have been his.
***
New York: The Palmer Estate [Afternoon]
"I want those place settings absolutely perfect. Be sure not to seat the Buchanans next to the Wilsons. They just haven't gotten along since that Gatsby incident. And did you remember to order more flowers? The presentation just won't be perfect without some more orchids..." said Lily Palmer, fully in control of a veritable army of servants.
Diana watched her mother with a complex combination of awe, admiration, and chagrine as she herself had little use for such pompous social gatherings, but never failed to be impressed by their grandeur and elegance.
"And how is the Field Marshall doing?" asked Kit, sidling up behind his girlfriend to whisper in her ear. "No mutinies or court martials, yet?"
"Are you kidding?" asked Diana, turning to offer Kit a smile and accept a light kiss on the cheek. "If Kabai Sengh had been half as commanding and organized, we would never have defeated him."
Chuckling, Kit led Diana away from all the hustle and bustle, knowing that the situation was well in hand under the direction of Diana's mother. "I certainly wouldn't want her as an enemy."
Punching Kit playfully in the side, Diana smiled and rested her head against Kit's shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Lily Palmer took a short moment to watch them go. The wealthy doyenne didn't approve of her daughter's desire to travel and wasn't at all certain that this Kit Walker was someone she approved of as a future son-in-law. After all, Jimmy Wells, who had always been taken with her daughter, traveled in much more impressive social circles.
Indeed, she knew very little about Mr. Walker or his family, other than the fact that her daughter seemed to have eyes only for him and that her brother-in-law considered him a young man of great promise. Still, he was not nearly as well-connected as Jimmy Wells, who had always been very enamored of her daughter. Even so, Lily had yet to form an opinion, but in the final analysis, her approval would most certainly be difficult to win.
***
New York: The Palmer Estate [Evening]
Limousine after limousine pulled into the driveway of the Palmer Estate as the annual gala event began. Famous socialites the world over arrived to pay their respects and mingle with the best and brightest of the social elite. Most were successful businessmen and their wives, but some few were celebrities or academicians of note.
"Dr. Henry Jones, Senior, Dr. Marcus Brody, and Dr. Henry Jones, Junior," announced the servant at the door as three elegantly-dressed gentlemen walked in. Both Marcus and Indy's father had chosen to wear traditional, dark tuxedos whereas Indy sported a white-jacketed tuxedo instead, something he'd picked up during his last trip to Shanghai.
"Good evening! I'm so glad that you could make it to our little soiree," said Lily, who always made a point of personally greeting every guest as soon as he or she arrived. Indeed, she took great pride in being the perfect host.
"Not at all," said Marcus, kissing her hand in gentlemanly fashion. "It's the perfect opportunity to thank you personally for your contributions to the museum over the years, which have been more than generous."
Indy's father repeated Marcus' gesture, also kissing the lady's hand. "And it just wouldn't do to turn down the invitation of so gracious a lady." Gesturing towards Indy, he continued, "I believe you are also familiar with my son?"
Indy kissed the lady's hand as well, as his father and Marcus had. Slightly uncomfortable, as he always was at events like this but especially so in his father's presence, he half expected her to ruffle his hair as if he were still a boy, ten years of age. "Thank you for having us, Mrs. Palmer." He resisted the sudden urge to put his hands in his pockets and shuffle his feet.
"So you're the famous archaeologist I've heard so much about," said Lily, doing her best to be charming. "Where will your next excavation be taking place?"
"Actually, I'm going to be doing a tour of archaeological sites throughout Europe on behalf of the London museum," said Indy. "I'm still in the middle of forming my team, but I should be well underway by next month."
"Oh, really?" asked Lily, extremely intrigued. "You know, I think Kit Walker would be an excellent addition to your team. He's a trained engineer with a masterful knowledge of folklore. I think it would do the boy some good to see more of the world."
"Really? Well, I'll be sure to talk to him about it," said Indy, trying to be polite.
"Good. Sometimes that boy acts like he was raised on an island of primitives. A broader perspective is just what he needs," said Lily, all the time thinking that her daughter needed some time away from Kit.
Still smiling graciously, Lily Palmer excused herself as the next guest to arrive was announced. Marcus and Brody left Indy to mingle with the older crowd, and Indy made his way to the open bar, ordering himself a vodka martini. He nearly spit it out when the next guest was announced.
"Chattar Lal, the Prime Minister to Zalim Singh, the Maharajah of Pankot Palace in India." A severe-looking man impeccably dressed in a black tuxedo, the Thuggee cult member who had tried to have Indy killed about three years ago.
"Hey, buddy, you alright?" asked the bartender, who looked at Indy strangely.
Coughing into his hand, Indy indicated that he was alright. He also tried to ignore the distracting way that the huge bartender kept shifting his shoulder muscles as he talked.
***
"Quite a turnout, wouldn't you say?" asked Dave Palmer, Diana's favorite uncle. "I guess it's true what they say. No one would dare not attend one of Lily's parties," he continued, carefully looking about to make sure that his sister-in-law wasn't within hearing distance.
Diana and Kit both chuckled in response, also keeping a wary eye out. "And people say that conspicuous consumption is going out of style," said Diana, looking about at all the famous personages gathered in her uncle's home.
Trying to spot a familiar face, she finally noticed Dr. Indiana Jones, who was speaking with an Indian gentleman at the far side of the room, making their way towards the historical wing. "Uncle Dave, who's that Indian gentleman?" she asked, indicating the man in question.
Uncle Dave wracked his brain for a minute or two until Jimmy Wells piped in, snapping his fingers as he came up with a name. "That's Chattar Lal, the Prime Minister of some place in India. He's here to oversee the loan of some artifacts to the Museum of Natural History. My mother is handling the project," said Jimmy, who was still trying to impress Diana in any way he could.
"No social gathering would be complete without a few foreign dignitaries, I suppose," said Kit, who'd already met more barons and duchesses this evening than he ever had before. "I wonder how Indy knows him..."
***
"Greetings, Dr. Jones," said Mr. Lal, who stood at rigid attention as he addressed Indy. Alone in the historical wing, they were finally able to speak to each other in private. "I had hoped I would be able to meet with you during my brief visit to your country."
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," said Indy, trying not to look too uncomfortable. Turning away to admire the antiquities that were part of David Palmer's private collection, his gaze passed by several primitive weapons of war, including a bullwhip of Spanish design. "You see, I thought you were dead."
"Try not to look so distressed, Dr. Jones. Not all deaths are permanent, and the expression on your face plainly betrays your thoughts," said Lal, who apparently bore Indy no malice.
"Does that mean you're not here to kill me?" asked Indy, the hint of a smile starting to creep up around the corners of his mouth.
"Dr. Jones, I bear you no hatred, and neither do the Thuggee. We are an ancient culture, and for thousands of years, we have protected India in the service of Kali. Mola Ram was a mad priest, willing to destroy his own people in the name of the goddess. Indeed, I am quite grateful for your assistance in ending his terrible reign."
Somewhat stunned at this revelation, it took some time for Indy to stammer out a response. "You're... welcome," he said. "And I'm sorry about... what happened."
"There is nothing to be sorry for," said Lal. "The black blood of Kali can pervert the will of any man, as you well know, but it can also preserve a man against injuries that would otherwise kill him. You have done no permanent injury to me, and your actions have earned you the blessings of both Kali and Shiva."
"So good fortune follows me, does it?" asked Indy, who didn't feel very blessed considering what he'd been through during the past few years. Indeed, he sometimes thought he was besieged by bad luck.
And just as these thoughts occurred to him, all hell broke loose.
***
Shortly after the last guest was announced, a man in a pin-striped suit nodded towards the largest bartender, who nodded back. He then pulled out a tommy gun and fired into the air. This action was followed by a number of ladies' screams as well as follow-up gunshots by other employees of the catering service that had been hired for the occasion. Two of these armed men moved to close the main doors, and others moved to guard the other exits and entrances to the main ballroom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please try not to be too alarmed! This is a robbery. Everyone, donn on the floor! If you will just remove your valuables and pass them to the men with the bags, no one will get killed! You have my word of honor," said Benny Zephro, holding a pistol in one hand and a smoking cigar in the other.
The head butler had the presence of mind to attempt to call the police, only to find that the lines were dead, and lights in all rooms but the main ball room were suddenly cut.
***
"Was that gunfire? What happened to the lights?" asked Lal, who was unaccustomed to such situations and somewhat alarmed, as much as his British schooling would allow. "It sounds like there's a robbery in progress."
"Don't worry," said Indy, taking off his jacket and moving to grab the whip from the Spanish collection. "It's just my blessings catching up with me. Sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but this kind of thing happens to me all the time."
"No need for apologies, Dr. Jones. I can understand your irritation."
***
Extremely chagrined by the fact that a robbery was taking place at one of her parties, Lily Palmer just knew that she would never be allowed to live it down. Left with few options, she did the only thing a woman of high society could do in such an embarassing situation. She fainted dramatically, right into young Jimmy Wells' arms.
"Don't worry, mom, everything will be alright," said Diana, trying to rouse her mother back to consciousness.
"I sincerely doubt that," said Uncle Dave, looking quite grim. "We've all seen their faces, and I doubt that this is just a robbery. That's Benny Zephro, Ray Zephro's younger brother. He's probably trying to take over his brother's position, and you don't do that by making stupid mistakes like letting witnesses live."
Pulling Diana close, he tried to reassure her. "Still, from what I've heard, he might just be stupid enough to let us live or try to ransom us instead. Benny's not supposed to be very bright," he said under his breath. Looking around, he suddenly noticed that someone was missing. "Wait a minute. Where's Kit?"
"Um... he left to grab something from the wine cellar," said Diana, crossing her fingers behind her back.
"Well, I hope he knows well enough to stay hidden and out of sight," he said.
"Don't worry, Uncle Dave, I'm sure Kit knows what to do."
***
Stepping as lightly as a jungle cat, Kit made his way upto his room. He berated himself silently for not wearing his Phantom costume underneath his clothes as he'd been taught, and he was certain he would never hear the end of it.
"Situation looks grim, son. Armed criminals lie hidden at every turn, and over a hundred hostages are at risk. A difficult situation," said the apparition that was Kit's father. "But it might be a lucky break. I think you've become far too complacent since you stopped Kabai Sengh."
"Yes, dad. Sorry, dad. I'll try to do better next time, dad," said Kit, trying to keep the edge out of his whisper. "But could you save the lecture for next time? I'm kind of busy right now."
"Well, I can see that," said the apparition, trying not to sound too critical but not trying very hard. "Things are happening in the world, and it needs the Phantom now more than ever. Do you even have a plan of action, yet?"
"I'm working on it, dad. Phase one is to get into costume," said Kit, just as he got to his room, only to find that there was someone in there rifling through his belongings, a man with a gun.
Sneaking up behind him, Kit knocked him unconscious with a classic karate chop to the neck. He then proceeded to blindfold and gag the man, binding him with rope. Pulling his suitcase out of the closet, Kit proceeded to open the secret compartment and don his costume.
Soon, the Phantom would be ready to deal with these invaders.
***
"Excuse me, sirs, but who are you and what are you doing here?" asked Lal, who seemed not at all perturbed by the guns being held by the two mobsters in the process of rolling up a portrait painted by Rembrandt.
"Who the hell are you?" asked the smaller of the two, pointing his weapon in Lal's direction. Out of nowhere, the sound of a whip cracked, and the muzzlue of that mobster's weapon was pointed at the other. Shots were fired, and the larger mobster fell to the ground, dead. A sudden tug quickly disarmed the remaining mobster and Indy rushed forward out of the shadows, ramming a solid right cross into the man's glass jaw.
"Well, that was exciting," said Lal, watching the man in the badly-tailored suit crumple to the floor.
"And it's not over. That gunfire will attract more of them very soon, said Indy, grabbing one of the guns and handing the other to Lal. "I hope you're a good shot."
"Of course. No British education would be complete without an understanding of firearms."
***
"My Lord, Henry, what in the world is happening now?" asked Marcus, having heard the gunfire coming from beyond the main ballroom. "Do you think it could be the police, coming to our rescue?"
"No, Marcus, it's not the police," said Henry, trying not to be overheard by any of the hired guns present. "There was gunfire but no accompanying sound of sirens."
"How dreadful," said Marcus, trying not to look too disappointed. "I hope nothing worse has come up. Do you think anyone was hurt?"
"I hope not, old friend. If I'm not mistaken, whatever is going on out there, Junior has something to do with it."
***
"What the hell was that?!" asked Zephro, smacking Vinnie in the face but barely fazing him. "I thought I said no one was supposed to get shot until I said so!"
"Sorry, Boss. The boys casing the rest of the joint must have run into trouble," said Vinnie, who was surprisingly apologetic for a man of his size. "It won't happen again."
"Yeah, well go make sure. If the boys ran into trouble, there's a chance it's still out there," said Zephro, poking his index finger forcefully into Vinnie's chest. "Take some more boys and check it out."
"Right, Boss," said Vinnie, whistling for most of Zephro's other men to join him, leaving only two behind with the Boss.
***
Bullet after bullet whizzed by Indy's head as a group of the mobsters held him pinned behind an overturned table with their covering fire. "Got any ideas how to get out of this, Lal?" asked Indy, who had already run out of bullets himself.
"I am sorry, Dr. Jones, but I am also out of bullets, and as a result, out of ideas as well," replied Lal, somewhat dismayed that death should come for him so far from his homeland. "What we need is a miracle."
"Call me, Indy. All my friends do," he said, clapping Lal on the shoulder. "And now would be a good time for Kali and Shiva to make good on those blessings you told me about."
Out of nowhere, a purple blur streaked out of nowhere, diving for one of the fallen guns. He finished the dive in a roll that ended with him regaining his feet. Quickly, the purple-clad stranger fired at the guns being held by the remaining mobsters, rendering them useless.
Closing his eyes and smiling, Chattar Lal took a moment to give thanks. "Ask and you shall receive. Is this not correct, Indy?"
Appropriately chagrined, Indy accepted the jibe graciously. He deserved it. Getting up quickly, he ignored the ridiculous appearance of the masked man in the purple costume and prepared to join the fray.
"I am the Ghost Who Walks, the Man Who Cannot Die!" he said, gesturing at the mobsters imperiously. For their part, the mobsters seemed mesmerized by his words, hesitant to attack. That is, they were hesitant until Vinnie ordered them to attack.
"Don't just stand there gawking! Get him!" yelled Vinnie, advancing on Indy as the rest of the boys charged the Phantom.
"Why do the big ones always come after me?" asked Indy of no one in particular. Ducking Vinnie's first punch, Indy hammered him with three quick punches to the gut. Looking up at Vinnie's smiling face, he could see that his blows were having no effect. "Uh oh..." he said as Vinnie's meaty fist came slamming into his face, knocking him to the floor and across the room.
Seeing stars, Indy tried to shake the cobwebs from his brain as Vinnie advanced. Off to the side, he saw the self-proclaimed Phantom dodging blows left and right, apparently using a combination of karate and jujitsu to belay his opponents. Indy was surprised by how well this Phantom was doing against so many, but he was even more surprised to see Chattar Lal jump on Vinnie's back, trying to strangle him.
Enraged, Vinnie tried to shake Lal off, and Indy used the distraction to attack him with his whip, wrapping it around his legs. Pulling with all his might, Indy forced Vinnie onto his back, and by accident, right on top of Lal.
"Ouch, that had to hurt," said Indy, wincing as he advanced. Straddling Vinnie, Indy started hammering him with left cross after right hook, slamming the man's head into Lal's unprotected midsection. Even Vinnie couldn't take that kind of punishment for long, and eventually, he was knocked out.
"Lal, are you alright?" asked Indy, grabbing Vinnie's unconscious body and heaving with all his might to pull him off of his new ally.
"No," said Lal, coughing and taking a deep breath. "But I will be. Just don't ask me if I'd ever do that again. How is our miraculous friend doing?"
Looking up, Indy saw this Phantom person standing triumphant over a multitude of mobsters, carefully pulling his mask back into place. Apparently, it had been slightly loosened during the battle. Catching the briefest glimpse of his face, Indy whispered something silently, under his breath. "Kit?"
***
Back in the main ballroom, Benny Zephro and his remaining henchmen were becoming nervous and agitated. It sounded like a war was going on out there, but they didn't dare leave the large mass of people unguarded. Also, it didn't help that the marks were becoming agitated as well, wondering what was going on.
"Everybody, shut up!" yelled Zephro, firing a shot or two in the air, enough to push an already frightened Mrs. Wells over the edge. Screaming, she ran for the double doors leading into the hall and Zephro ordered one of his henchmen to grab her and keep her from escaping. "Aaagh!!!"
Zephro's flunky caught up with her just as she reached the doors, and at that moment, they burst open, revealing a man dressed scandalously in a skintight purple costume. "Aaagh!!!" screamed Mrs. Wells, even louder than before, and chaos erupted in the room.
First, the Phantom leaped forward with a flying kick, easily knocking out the henchman that had been harassing Jimmy Wells' mother. Then, Benny Zephro took aim at the strange man in the purple underwear, only to have his gun ripped out of his hand by the strike of a whip. And finally, when the last henchman took aim at Indy, it was Indy's father and Marcus Brody who restrained his gun arm, forcing the man to fire harmlessly into the air, and Diana Palmer who balled her right hand into a fist to knock him out.
***
Very soon, all of the would-be criminals were properly restrained, and just as mysteriously as he had appeared, the Phantom was gone. The police arrived to take Zephro and his gang into custody, and all was once again right with the world.
Lily Palmer was revived and taken to her room, and Diana did her proud by apologizing to all the guests, just as graciously as decorum dictated. Kit Walker was at her side, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Indy staring at him curiously from the far side of the room.
But as soon as Kit was looking Indy's way, Indy was looking elsewhere, introducing his father and Marcus Brody to Chattar Lal, saying little about how they'd first met.
A feeling of camaraderie swept throught the assemblage, and spirits were suddenly high. Tragically, however, the party had come to a most definite end.
***
End of Indiana Jones and the Golden Age #03
***
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