Thanks to dumbblonde76 for my first ever review. Anyway, here's the second chapter as always be honest with your reviews. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

"Please come and sit down," Jameson indicated a brown leather easy chair, opposite a roaring fire, which did look very inviting to Indy, in his present condition, being soaked through, "Please let me get you a drink." Indy crossed the room, his feet squelching as he did so although being far too busy, taking in his surroundings to notice.

One end of the spacious room in which he was now stood, Indy noticed, a large antique desk, with an angle pose lamp on the left hand side of the desk surface, the only source of lighting apart from the fire in the room, showed Indy that the desk was piled high with papers and reference books, obviously from the dimly illuminated filing cabinets arranged along the wall with many, having open draws. On the opposite wall to the filling cabinets, there was a large bookcase, even in the poor light, missing several volumes, "obviously some bodies office, seen a lot of use lately too," Indy thought.

The other end of the room was completely different; it reminded Indy of old British Gentleman's Club with a picture of Queen Elizabeth II above the fireplace, providing a flickering red glow to the seating area, Indy could just make out, a large green leather sofa at the far end of the room, various mounted heads of African game, the firelight flickering in their glass bead eyes, giving them the illusion of prenatural life which unnerved Indy, above that. As well as weapons, presumably used to despatch the animals that glared down at him, the dark oak panelling and floor only reinforced this impression. "Damn it," Indy muttered to himself as he sat down, he had not found any escape routes, "there's always the lift but his goons were bound to be guarding that one," Indy thought. Looking for escape routes was a habit he picked up long ago and not one he was not going to relax just because some bozo said he was MI6. Besides situations always seemed to turn nasty fast whenever he was involved, hence the need for hasty exits, usually carrying some priceless historic artefact closely followed by the irate previous owner and several paid heavies. "Scotch and Water, OK with you, Dr Jones?" Jameson said, pulling out of thoughts, "oh, fine thanks " Indy hadn't noticed Jameson approach being so absorbed in his own thoughts but he was now standing in front of him, holding a drink out to him. Handing the drink to Indy, he took the seat opposite and raised his glass, saying "all the best, old chap," before in one swift movement, downing the entire contents. Noticing the grimace as the alcohol hit his stomach, Indy was confused, and thought to himself, "Nobody drinks like that, unless they have some major problems and by the look of this guy, he has obviously something to do with why I'm here."

Having taken a closer look at the man which was near impossible previously because of the poor lighting, Indy could tell that this man possibly no more than 40, dressed in tweed, with tussled blonde hair, paling complexion, with obvious signs of strain on his face was not the man he once was and possibly would never be again. Indy simply raised his arm and returned the toast, "Your good health," and drank half his drink and grimaced as he felt it burn as it ran down his throat and placed the glass on the table that was between the two chairs.

Indy noticed that Jameson, demeanour completely change from the completely pleasant English gent back to the stern, authoritarian persona that would scare the bijous out of his MI6 subordinates when he spoke again, "Now, Dr Jones, back to the business at hand, what do you know of a certain Mr Crowley?" "Occult theory and doctrine, not exactly my field, I'm an archaeologist, sorry," Indy smiles and with a shrug of his shoulders continues, "but if you insist, I do know this, he was a member of the occult society Golden Dawn until he fell out with Arthur Edward Waite. So he broke off and came with his own religious dogma and some time later founded the Abbey of Thelema, dedicated to the personal pleasures of its inhabitants. In 1922, Crowley and some of his followers, in a Paris Hotel, allegedly tried to summon up via occult means the physical presence of the devil, himself. Whether he succeeded isn't known but only he was supposedly left alive, after the experience although he never spoke of it. But all I know is based purely on speculation and hearsay and besides he's been dead for over 3 years."

After Indy had finished Jameson, "Quite so, Dr Jones, but you do have the uncanny ability of getting mixed up in the occult," firstly the Thuggi revival involving the shankara stones, then the Arc of the Covenant.

Jameson noticed the look of shock on Indy's face and continued with a smile, "don't be look so surprised, Dr Jones, my American brethren informed me of its existence soon after it was found, they were going to use it to deal with the Nazi threat, so of course, our government was informed. However it was deemed far too dangerous and finally the cup of Christ, the world owes you a debt of thanks for that one, imagine an immortal Megalomaniac in Buckingham Palace, his goose stepping morons marching all over Pall Mall, unthinkable." Jameson body shuddered for a second, possibly imagining that exact thing, "My point being that you are the only man for the job. You know that higher things do exist and would be far better prepared for what you might encounter than say one of my agents. Tell me do you know what the sublimitas of oriens astrum is, in eng..."

Jameson never got finish his sentence as put up his hand and said, "I know what it means, before I was six, I knew five languages, including ancient Greek and in this case Latin, it means elevation of the morning star." Indy broke off suddenly rubbing his temples, realizing the implication of Jameson was saying "Christ, it been a long day, so your saying that someone has found the manuscript containing instructions on how to bring about apocalypse and Satan's 1000 year reign on earth. Supposedly written in his own blood by a mad monk in the 6th century when under demonic possession, discovered by the Knights Templar and kept in their trust until it was finally lost during the first Crusades, I always thought it was a myth."

The colour drained from his face and Jameson poured him another drink, "here I think you need this", Indy took the drink and drank it down without even the slightest grimace as the liquid burned his throat as Jameson had done early, now he knew why. "No myth, I'm afraid, old chap, I received word from Intelligence contacts in Israel a few days ago, that some people calling themselves, the Red Dawn, a break away faction of Crowley's Thelema sect, had unearthed a crypt where they found a body of Knight of the order of the Templar. Who it seems was the guardian of the oriens astrum, who died and it was buried with him, his brethren apparently believed it would be safe with the dead. Unfortunately, for the world, they were wrong and this sect is trying to release the Dark Lord from his prison. But luckily for us, they don't have all the necessary, they have not as yet found the dagger of the serpent to be used in the sacrifice of a female virgin, on the 7th day of the 7th weeks. Which happily for the poor unfortunate young lady and us is a full three months away at the stroke of midnight. Hopefully ample time, for you to find the dagger of the serpent and prevent this atrocity from happening, now do you see why I brought you here?"

Indy sat forward in his chair and with his head in his hands, sat staring at the flames, his faces painted with red, yellow, orange light given off by the fire, taking the enormity of the task that lay before him after several minutes, he spoke, never taking his eyes from the flames, his voice, suddenly feeble as if the evening misadventures had finally caught up with him "I guess I don't have a chose do I? When do I leave?