Indiana Jones and the Golden Fleece- Chapter Two
Indy and his assistant Darius rose out of the opening of what used to be Hercules' burial chamber. All that was left there was an ancient Greek vase. Indy took it, deciding not to leave without finding at least one item to bring back for the museum.
Indy detached his whip from Midas' body and shoved the corpse into the hole. They pushed the stone slab back onto the opening, covered it with branches and leaves, and started toward their horses. Indy was helping Darius because of his broken leg. He carefully placed the vase in his pack, then spun around and shoved Darius against a nearby tree.
"So when are you gonna kill me?" Indy asked.
"What are you talking about?!" Darius yelled back, genuine confusion in his eyes.
"I found you and Midas in the same town. You're from the same ethnic group, you speak the same language, religion, everything."
"So?!"
"You expect me to believe you won't turn on me like Midas did? He said going into Hercules' Tomb was forbidden, that it was a sacred place or something."
"We think Hercules is a god. We don't believe that gods can die, so why would he try to protect something that doesn't exist?!" Darius screamed back. "There was a German man in town about a week before you arrived. With the Nazis coming to power maybe he had something to do with it."
"I heard Der Führer has some sort of obsession with mythical powers and that sort of hocus pocus."
He walked over to Midas' horse and took his bag. He shuffled around the junk inside and found a letter in German on letterhead with a swastika at the top. It was signed by a Colonel Hans Herzog. Along with the letter, the envelope had several hundred dollars inside it.
"I can't tell what it says, but it's definitely Nazi. This Colonel Herzog bribed him to kill me." Indy said, helping Darius to his horse. "Sorry for…uh…"
"Beating the crap out of me?" Darius said "I've had worse"
After Indy and Darius got back to the town, collected their bags and returned the horses, they started to ask around about the German man. All they found was that what they already knew. A German man came into town a week ago offering work and payment. Finally, after an hour of searching, Darius chimed in with a small little fact.
"He was staying in the Inn by the west side of town."
"And now you tell me. Great."
They walked over to the Inn and asked to see the room where the man was staying.
"Γιατί θέλετε?" The wrinkly old woman in charge of the Inn asked.
"Whuh?" Indy asked.
"She's asking why you want to inspect her Inn."
"Tell her we're government officers"
"Μην αγγίξτε ένα πράγμα βλασφημίας!"
"Don't touch a damn thing." Darius snapped at Indy.
"What?"
"That's what she said to you."
"Oh. Ok."
Indy and Darius followed the wrinkled old woman up the steps into the room where the man was staying. It hadn't been cleaned yet, and the sheets had been violently ripped off the bed.
"Looks like a struggle" Indy suggested.
"But with who?" Darius asked. "How many Nazis were in our little village?"
"I dunno. I'm going back to the states. I'll call you when I get back."
The flight from Athens to London lasted seven hours. Indy was on a small chartered plane and when he landed in London he was still feeling the effects of jet-lag. He stepped out onto the tarmac and squinted from the glare. There was a brand-new black Cadillac parked parallel to the plane. The pilot of the aircraft was walking down the stairway when a curly haired man popped out of the sunroof of the Cadillac and opened fire with his MP40 sub machinegun.
Indy hit the deck just as the bullets whizzed over his back and into the chest of the ill-fated pilot. Indy ran around to the back of the plane, opened his briefcase, and removed his revolver. There were still six bullets in the chambers.
As soon as the pilot's body hit the floor, the gunfire stopped. Indy looked under the tail of the plane and saw the man whacking his gun and cursing, trying to fix a jam. Indy tried to get a good aim at his head, but the man spotted him out of the corner of his eye and shouted something down near the driver's seat. The passenger's seat window started to roll down, and a tubby man holding a revolver was pointing it straight at Indy's forehead.
"Dammit!" Indy rolled under the plane back into cover. He blindly fired a shot toward the direction of the machine gunner.
"Bring us around!" The curly-haired man screamed at the driver.
"Y-Yes sir!"
The car started slowly around to the side of the plane Indy was using for cover. He had to think fast. Using four of his five remaining bullets, he shot out the tires of the Cadillac.
"What the-"
Indy did a tuck and roll under the tail of the aircraft and shot the man in the face. His head snapped back as a puff of blood shot into the air. The split-second before he got shot, the man pulled the trigger. The falling gun angled down into the car and launched a stream of bullets into the driver.
Indy let out a deep breath just as airport police came rushing to the scene.
"What happened here?" asked a young man with a thick Scottish accent.
"These men shot my pilot and tried to kill me." Indy told him in a gravelly voice.
"Bloody Hell"
"I know."