Mutt Williams wished for an instant he had his gun... or at least his knife. He had taken to leaving the weaponry at home when he was back in Bedford. The location was rather peaceful, and he had gotten a false sense of security. He watched Molly drop to her hands and knees and disappear behind the corner into the kitchen. She would make it back to his office, he had a lot of trust in that girl.

Mutt remained silent as he plucked a small and annoying piece of glass from his hand. He could hear the gunmen (there were two) crunch the shards beneath their feet from where they had shot Molly's coffee pot. Most people had gotten out of the restaurant. He wondered how many were left.

"All we want is Henry Jones. If he comes quietly, no one in here will get hurt." The first gunman's voice was gruff and demanding.

Mutt scoffed. He hated it when people called him Henry. And although his parents might have been married, he most certainly was not a Jones.

"If he doesn't come," a female voice warned, "then we can't guarantee anyone here will leave in one piece."

They sent a woman and a man after him. Looking across the divide in the bar, he could see that Adib was still crouched under their table. He had a pistol cocked in his hand, ready to use. Mutt felt his jaw clench. No sound came from the restaurant except from the sickening crunching of broken glass. They were getting closer.

Then Mutt caught the glint of a large knife on top of the bar. The thing was large and looked heavy enough. Though it was no gun, the knife could definitely do damage if used properly.

He had to be smart about this. The crunching sound was getting louder. Mutt had a short way to go before he was able to reach the weapon. If he was quiet about it, he could gain the upper hand in the small altercation.

"Come out, come out," the male voice persisted.

Holding his breath, Mutt dodged the fallen glasses and plates as he neared the knife. He was getting closer, the glinting becoming more pronounced as he slinked along underneath the bar. Reaching the handle, he thought to himself, would be a trick. He couldn't expect the agents to be stupid enough to miss his hand reaching for the object.

He would have to take the risk.

Fixing his eye on the knife he began slowly reaching up for it when he felt the cord hard barrel of a pistol pressing into his neck. Mutt swallowed and closed his eyes.

"Don't move, unless you want to eat lead," the female agent coolly warned.

Mutt went stiff as he heard a shot go off. Turning his head slightly, he could see that Adib had taken a bullet to the shoulder. He cried in pain and slumped against one of the diner booths.

"Alright," Mutt said, "you have our attention."

"Good," the woman said, pulling her gun away from my neck. He turned around fully now and she motioned for me to follow her. The other man, her partner, picked Adib up and began leading him to the back door. He could see cop cars arriving, but they had not come soon enough.

Mutt looked over at Adib who nodded at his friend, letting him know he was okay. Mutt wasn't convinced. His face had grown white as a sheet. He wrapped a piece of cloth around his arm, staunching the bleeding.

"He needs a hospital," Mutt demanded as a black car swung around the corner.

"There's a doctor on site," she said, smoothing her blonde hair and opening the door for him.

Mutt noted that they were being treated fairly enough for a pair of captives. He had a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. These people wanted more than just an exchange of information. He said a silent prayer that Molly had gotten to where she needed to be. He was doubtful.

Putting pressure on his friend's wound, the car sped out onto the street. Blending in with the local Saturday morning crowd, they were as good as lost to anyone who was going to try and look for them. Mutt cursed under his breath.

The Bishop's Spear had caused more of a stir than he thought as possible.

He and Adib had started looking into it as their pet project a few years ago when they found themselves in Rome. The spear was said to have been lost to history along with other holy relics. It wasn't until last summer when he caught a lead saying the spearhead may be found somewhere in Istanbul that they decided to start digging there.

In spite of their efforts, nothing turned up. But going back to the letter they had found in the book, he believed that it was possible they could have gotten the translation wrong.

And that meant the spear was still out there.

Mutt found himself coming out of his thoughts as rain began to hit the roof of the car. He was not really that surprised to see that they were indeed pulling up to the museum. Molly had mentioned that the place had been shut down for special visitors. He should have known then.

The car stopped in front of the grand entrance way. Stepping out of the vehicle, the blonde opened the door for them once more. Mutt helped Adib out and they began to walk up the steps to the modest museum. There were two others there waiting for them. One ushered Adib from him and into the dark halls of the museum, presumably the doctor.

The other took him roughly by the arm and lead him into a hall which was filled with busts ranging from Classical Greece to Late Roman periods.

To Mutt's dismay Molly was sitting on a bench in her rumpled waitress outfit, looking as dejected and sorry as ever. He smiled to her, trying to assure her that everything would be okay.

She pursed her lips and clenched her jaw. Clearly, she thought they wouldn't.

"I thought I told you to go to the college," he whispered through his teeth.

"I had a little trouble," she retorted motioning over to the two burly men who stood in front of us.

Mutt sighed heavily, holding his face in his hands.

"I swear to god Henry," she said, her voice dangerously low, "if I get caught in one of your ridiculous schemes I will kill you."

He laughed lightly.

Her face remained stoic. "I wasn't joking."

He nodded his head, "I know."

"Dr. Jones, Miss Moore, I suppose you are both wondering why you have been brought to this place," a man said, who had just walked into the hall.

He could have been numbered among the busts, for he was as tall and stony as they were. The man also carried a thick accent, which Mutt immediately recognized to be Russian.

"Should've guessed they would have sent KGB after us," Mutt said, folding his arms against his chest and leaning back in his seat. "Sicking some of your American partners on us was a smart move too, even fooled me."

The man smiled, "They told me you were smart, Dr. Jones. I half expected to have more trouble bringing you here. Sending your little maid off with this would have been a good idea, if your actions were not so obvious to us, she might have even gotten away."

"Assistant," Mutt and Molly said in unison, the same thread of tension strung in their voices.

The man chuckled to himself. "My name is Alexi Glebovich. I have come here because it seems that one of the artifacts you have been looking for the past year and a half, has become of interest to us."

"Couldn't do any of your own research, could you?" Mutt spat.

Glebovich waved a finger at him. "Don't be so quick to point fingers Dr. Jones. As I understand it your father did much work on the subject of the Bishop's Spear while he was still a young man, much like yourself. Stood on his shoulders did you, to come as close as you did to finding it?"

Mutt's face was ashen as he considered Glebovich's words. "You're nothing but a washed up piece of shit, good for nothing-"

Molly yelped as one of the guards hit Mutt on the head with a good, hard thwack. Mutt blinked a few times, trying to rid the spots that formed in his vision. Shaking his head, he watched as the world slowly turned back to horizontal.

"Excuse me, sir," Molly said as practically as she could manage. "But I just don't see why I need to be here any longer. Now that you have the page you wanted-"

"You gave them the page?" Mutt whispered furiously to her.

"The one you violated me over?" she said, shooting him a sharp glance. "Anyway," she continued, "I'll just exit through the back door and you will never see, nor hear from me again."

She stood up and had barely lifted her foot off the ground before a guard came to take her by the shoulders and sit her back down.

"Hey!" Mutt exclaimed. "Get your hands off her!"

"I regret to inform you, Miss Moore, that you are very much indeed a part of what will be taking place very shortly," Glebovich said.

"And what exactly will that consist of?" Molly asked, more boldly.

At her statement the man smiled. "It will consist of you, Dr. Jones and my personal guard, Isay finding the Bishop's Spear for us."

Molly and Mutt glanced over at one another. Molly sighed heavily and looked away. "What makes you think we're going to fall into step with you on this?" he asked.

Glebovich smiled. "Because if you don't," he said, loosening his crisp collar, "I will have one Mr. and Mrs. Jones held indefinitely until you choose to begin our quest again."

He sat down in front of the two of them, holding out his hands, palms facing the ceiling. "You have the opportunity to find one of the most important artefacts lost to humankind, Dr. Jones. There are other scholars in your position who would willingly put themselves in this position."

"Yeah, except they're scum and I'm not," he added.

Glebovich smiled. "We are one in the same, you and I," he whispered, "you just don't know it yet."

"I don't know what to take," Molly whispered to Mutt as she hastily threw things into a small bag.

Mutt removed a few books from the bag, tossing them on the ground beside her bed. The cramped studio apartment above an antique store had too many bookshelves and not enough room for necessities like furniture and living space. Molly and Mutt had been sent here with Isay waiting at the door. They had half an hour for the two of them to pack their bags. Molly had already taken fifteen minutes.

"What you really need are these," Mutt said, grabbing some underwear from the desk drawers behind him.

"Hey!" she shouted, grabbing those out of his hands, her cheeks blushing heavily. "Don't touch those!"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," he said, exasperated. "Can you hurry up?" he added, stepping over a stack of heavy books.

"I'm sorry that I'm not used to being held hostage by international criminals," she said pointedly.

"Okay well you have enough stuff, can we go now?" he asked, throwing his hand toward the doorway and to the Russian mobster who was nearly taking up half of it.

"Doctor is right, young lady," Isay said in a gruff Russian accent.

Molly looked at the two men and zipped up her bag. "Such gentlemen," she said sarcastically.

She took one last glance around her apartment, knowing it would be a long time before she set foot in her tiny living space again. The men stepped in front of her before she turned around and closed the door behind her.

Taking a deep breath she started off down the hall. Mutt took her small bag from her hands and gave her an encouraging smile, jamming his elbow in her ribs playfully. "Now you're finally going to learn what its like to be an archaeologist."

"Too bad I'm a philologist," she muttered.