Thank you for all the lovely comments, it's really been nice reading all of them, and knowing I have scored points—major ones in writing for this genre. I really enjoyed writing this fic, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Here it is the final chapter!

Mutt was now eighteen. He never finished his schooling, and dropped out last year after he grew tired of having to start over. It was one thing Mutt hated, was change. I made him promise that he would get a job, which much to my dismay was in an auto body shop, as an assistant to the mechanic. Mutt loved cars, but he loved motorcycles even more. The night of his eighteenth birthday, he came home with an old motorcycle he found in a junkyard. His plan was to rebuild it, and someday ride it.

"What the hell is that hunk of junk doing on my lawn?" I looked at the rusted bike, and turned to Mutt.

"Ma, it's a motorcycle. And I'm planning on fixing this bike up, and someday riding it." He grinned.

I was concerned. "Sweetie, those are dangerous, I don't want you riding one. You could get killed!"

Mutt was frustrated."Ma, I'm eighteen...I think I can handle riding one." He kissed my cheek. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to take a shower." Our relationship was closer since I recently started cutting back my hours at work. I had decided that I needed to be there for Mutt more, ever since...well the day the police came to the door.

I was sitting in the sunroom reading a novel, when I heard banging on the door. Rushing up to get the door, I ran as fast as I could, and opened the door, only to find a police officer with Mutt.

"Oh god, what did you do this time?" I said, irked at the fact that yet again, Mutt Williams can't possibly go anywhere without getting in trouble with the police.

The police officer looked at me, and said,"Ma'am, your son was caught fighting, and he was thrusting this at someone." He handed me a silver object...Mutt's knife. I took it, and said, grabbing my son, "Officer, I hope this will be the last time Mutt has a run-in with the police." He looked up from his notepad, and said, "Thanks, ma'am, we hope it's the last time too. He headed out to his car, and I took Mutt by the ear.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You could have killed someone and ended up in jail!"

"Nothing." Mutt said, sarcastically, and walked away, not saying another word.

And from that moment on, I cut back my hours at work to oversee that Mutt wasn't going to cause any more trouble. I took his knife away from him for a month, and it took a long time for me to really trust him again. Mutt was a good kid, with good intentions, but made lousy decisions. He reminded me constantly of his father—with his adventurous spirit and all, but his fighting spirit was all me right there. If it had been me instead of Mutt, I probably would have punched the bully square in the face. I had been known to break a few jaws in my day. Still, I constantly wondered what Indy would have thought of his son, his namesake...well, I'd like to think he'd like his son if they ever met.

I was worried about Oxley. He had gone on an expedition with hopes of finding the Crystal Skull, and we hadn't seen him in nearly three months. Daily, I was calling old friends of Jones, trying to figure out if they knew anything about Ox's whereabouts. No one knew, and day by day, I grew worried about him. That's when I started making plans to travel to Peru to find him. Mutt didn't want me to leave, he was afraid something would happen to me.

"Ma, I don't want you to go! Something might happen...please Ma!" Mutt was like a little kid all over again, hanging on me and begging me not to leave him.

"Sweetie, I have to. Ox hasn't contacted us in three months; I want to make sure he's okay." I smiled, as I packed my things. Putting an arm around my son, I kissed his cheek. "I'll be fine." That afternoon, I boarded a plane to Peru.

Marion boards the plane to Peru, and many hours later, she arrives there, ready for adventure.

I entered the jungle, with only a knapsack, water and enough food to last me a few days. The tangled mess of the vines, I cut, using my knife to swipe the blade rapidly across them. Using the map that I got from one of Ox's friends, I carved out a plan so brilliant that Indy would have approved. Finding shelter wasn't too hard, I found an abandoned cave, and created a fire. "All I learned, I learned from Indiana Jones." I thought to myself, chuckling. The next morning I soldiered on, while following the map precisely and swatting mosquitoes at the same time. Those damn bugs kept on biting; it felt as if a needle was thrust in my skin. I pulled back my sleeve to reveal a few red bumps. Good thing I brought lotion to soothe these sores if they start to itch. I continued cutting down tangled vines, exposing pathways in the jungle, when I could hear voices. I continued walking, quietly, so I could hear them. As the voices seemed to come closer, I ducked into a bush, and listened. One of the voices was a man, and the other, a woman. From what I gathered, they were not from around here. The man and the woman were speaking in a tongue not native to this country. It wasn't even English. Then, somehow they switched to speaking in English, but their accents were heavy. Thinking to myself, I said, "Must be Russians."

"We captured that old man from the sanitarium. He claims to have seen that crystal skull we've been after. Says he can show us where it is." The man nodded, and said, "Where are you keeping him?"

The woman looked at him, and said, "Somewhere in Brazil."

Somewhere in Brazil? I had no idea what the hell I was getting into. But, my gut was telling me it was a lot more than just the Russians. I had a strong feeling that I would encounter much, much more than that.