Chapter Six
"Blackmail Might Be The Term"
The figure came forward into the light. A heavily tanned face sat atop a pudgy body swaddled in mismatched cloths. A soppy grin played on the lips of the man, reflecting some of the light from the lock of greasy hair falling from his turban.
Audrey and Indy had frozen; her foot still on his chest and her bent over towards the pinned man.
"Did I interrupt something rather private? If you wish, I'll just sit back and watch you finish your little playtime."
He grinned wider as Audrey quickly released Indiana, letting him stand up and straighten his clothes.
"Who the hell are you?" Audrey demanded.
"Me? My name is Rashid Ngamba. I am here on behalf of my superior, whose name you are unworthy to know. Suffice to say that I have a business proposition for you that you'll want to accept, given the circumstances."
"Which would be?" Jones inquired.
"Take a hike."
Audrey's words broke the possible parlay, surprising both men present.
"I don't cut deals with anyone threatening my life. Find yourself some cash or find yourself another blackmail victim. I don't have anything I wouldn't want public."
"Ah, Miss Hammar, but what about something you don't want to know? Something rather personal, I'm afraid. And it concerns a rather long-forgotten past that I'm sure you'd rather not remember."
The man's smile was unnerving.
"And concerning you, Mr. Jones, I believe 'blackmail' might be the term. Of course, I can't discuss it in front of Miss Hammar here, but I daresay we'll find a more private location to go into it further. Might you accompany me alone to a more secluded spot?" He motioned with his firearm.
Indiana shrugged. "What the hell."
Following Ngamba out of the hotel, they entered a shining new imported black car, the make of which Indy could not recognize.
Ngamba read his thoughts. "Don't bother trying, Mr. Jones. It is a custom job, personally designed by my employer."
As they drove farther and farther from the main town, Indy realized just how distant their destination was going to be. After what seemed like an hour's worth of driving, Ngamba ordered the chauffeur to stop the vehicle.
"And why have we stopped?" Indy asked to the man who was now fiddling with something behind his back.
"Just a moment, Mr. Jones."
Suddenly, Ngamba's hand shot forward, covered with a moist cloth. He quickly covered Jones' nose and mouth with it. Indy fought hard against him, but the man's grip was like iron. As Indy started to clump down from the unnatural urge to sleep, he heard Ngamba's voice echoing in his mind.
"My employer thinks it annoying to have those who are not related to him in any way to know the location of his home. When we meet again, it will be under much more favorable conditions."