DISCLAIMER/NOTE: I don't own Shorty, Mutt, or any of the mentioned Indiana Jones characters. However, I do own Kris and Kyle, whom we may or may not see later.
The normally neat – well, relatively – classroom was in a shambles. Chairs were smashed, and everywhere, as well as desks, bulletin boards, and the fluttering remains of maps and books. One window was smashed through – it was human-ish shaped, showing what had been thrown out – and remnants of what appeared to be a sword lay scattered around a deep gash in the desk. I walked to it, wide-eyed, my mouth dropping open. I had never seen a place so thoroughly destructed before. Mutt looked just as shocked as me, but not about the mess; he, apparently, got out more. He picked up – my eyes grew even wider as I saw it – a whip, and stared at it hopelessly.
"Damn it. They got him." He rolled up the whip smartly, and put it over one shoulder. Apparently forgetting I was still in the room, he began to head to the door. I put a hand on it as he started to walk out, forcing him back. For a moment, he stared at me, and seemed to understand the look I was giving him. He groaned, and waved me after him. As he walked down the deserted corridor, I became aware that it was a lot later than it had seemed; at least an hour and a half had gone by, and all the students had left. Nervously keeping up with Mutt, I noticed that we were heading to the 'Teacher Barracks,' as they were affectionately called by the students. Ignoring the 'Keep Out' sign, he entered the townhouse at the far end, held the door open for me – a shock; he had never bother to pretend to be polite to me as far as I could remember – and began to rush around inside the house. I looked around as he did so, marveling at the amount of artifacts inside. This confirmed my conclusion even more than it already had, if that were possible. Mutt threw a backpack on the main desk near where I stood, and began stuffing a number of things into it, including the whip, and a hat that had been sitting on a chair. He zipped the backpack shut, and began to head to the door, with me on his heels. As he reached the door, he turned around, glaring. "You stay here. You're not coming."
I crossed my arms, and returned the hostile staring match. "Look. If it wasn't for me, you'd still be locked in that closet back in the classroom. You aren't leaving me behind, even if that means stalking you. It's not for your sake that I'm doing this; Professor Jones… well, if it's possible for a student to be friends with a professor, that'd be it. And besides…" I slowly began to smile. "Every state needs its own help." I brushed past him; he seemed to have understood my meaning exactly. Dumbly, he followed me as we went into the parlor, threw open the door – and were stopped by a Chinese man, a little bit older than us, about to knock. For a moment, everyone was silent; the man broke it.
"'Scuse me." His accent was thick, though he obviously spoke English fluently; he barely had any trouble with grammar, or whatever. "I am a friend of Dr. Jones. Is his son here?" I looked back at Mutt, an eyebrow raised. He looked as confused as me, which was rather a surprise, though strangely comforting.
"That's me." He said slowly; the man nodded, smiling.
"I thought so. I know where your father is." He beckoned for us to follow, and walked down the three steps that led to the front door. When he noticed that we weren't following, he turned yet again. "Oh! My name is Short Round. Shorty?" Once again, I looked back at Mutt; the look of confusion was wiped away by recognition, and he began to follow… Shorty. I walked after them, completely at loss; I had no idea what was going on. As we quickened the pace, he began to explain. "He and his friend are being temporarily held at the nearby prison until the rest of them come. They told the officers that they have convicted an act of terrorism, and are on their way to be sentenced."
"Terrorism?" Mutt's anger was clear as his voice rose. "What kind of bastards would think that about my father? He's a damn war hero, and Sallah is, too!" I was about to ask who Sallah was, but decided that now was probably not the best time to ask questions. We arrived at a rather old-fashioned car. Shorty pointed for both of us to sit in the back, which we did. As I slid in on the right side, Mutt on the left, and our guide in the front, he turned back to look at me.
"Oh! Lady, who're you?" For a moment, I was surprised at being addressed; I barely shook my head to clear my thoughts before answering.
"Kris. Kris Emerson. I'm a… friend of Dr. Jones." I left off anything about Mutt, not wanting to start yet another argument. It was partly our fault that he had been caught, after all; if we hadn't held him behind because of our fight in class, he might have had a chance to get away, and not have to fight the whoever-they-weres. "Uh… by the way… would someone care to explain what's going on?" Both of them turned to look at me; Shorty looked surprised, Mutt simply annoyed. "What? It would be useful to know what was going on."
"She doesn't know?" He turned back to watch the traffic, speaking over his shoulder to my sort of arch-nemesis. "Why is she with you and not know what is going on?"
"Long story." Mutt's voice was short, and he stared out the window for a moment. "Well, you know who my dad is part-time… in journeys that anyone would take to find unknown or legendary… things, you run into people who want to get there first, and would do anything to keep you from finding it first. That's who those people are, like with the Nazi's when he found the Ark of the Covenant, and the Russians for the Crystal Skull." For a moment, I was silent, and stared out the window; I had heard legends of those ventures, but had never quite believe them. They sounded too fantastic… but if those were real, what about the others I had heard about?
"What is it this time?" Instead of asking the first question that had come to my mind, I settled on that. I was curious, really; what would make someone accuse an innocent man of being a terrorist just to be able to hold him in a jail? Once again, the two men were silent; Mutt answered hesitantly.
"He thinks…" One again, he paused. "He thinks he might have found the way to Atlantis." Both of them seemed to be waiting for me to laugh, and say that they were insane, and run off… it had crossed my mind, but somehow, I believed them.
"Does he have any idea where it might be?" Once again, my question threw them off.
"No." Mutt lost some of his composure as he grew more and more surprised. "No. He was going to tell me after class – after you left – but they cam before he could tell me."
"Huh." The three of us fell silent, and I settled for looking out the window as the houses streamed past. We had finally gotten out of the traffic, and were leaving the outskirts of the town, and into the main portion, where the prison was. A rather silly place to have one, but at the time this place was built, that made sense. That was certainly strange. I fiddled with the strap of my messenger bag; most of my books had been knocked out as Mutt and I had been shoved into the closet, but there was one left, and some paper and at least one pen. My lock picks and penknife had been shoved in there as well; I didn't have all of my usual breaking-and-entering tools with me, but they'd have to do. Shorty pulled into a lot that was down from the jail, and we all got out, staring at the building.
"Anyone have any ideas?" The Chinese man said, sizing up the building and looking worried. I watched it for a moment, and nodded, a slow smile coming up on my face. It seemed it was time to prove that I wouldn't simply be extra baggage to them.
"If you can get your hands on some sort of printer, I think I can pull something off… all I need is fifteen minutes." I looked at both of them; they exchanged glances, and shrugged at me. Grinning, I saluted smartly, and began to walk briskly down the sidewalk, squaring my shoulders. What I had in mind was most likely illegal, but for some reason, I wasn't too nervous… simply excited. What that said about my mind, I'll never know. As I walked into the first row of doors, I quickly took my hair down… shameless flirting, check, bag, check, heavy book, check… it was time. Taking a deep breath, I walked inside, pretending to look nervous, as if I didn't want to be anywhere near this place. A man, about Shorty's age – that was good for my plan, I had struck lucky there – looked up, and suddenly looked nervous. Why, I didn't know… someone had complimented me once when I had my hair down, but by no means was I beautiful. I picked up a carefully falsetto voice, looking around.
"Excuse me, sir." That was good; high and fluttery, but realistic, and nowhere near my own voice. "I'm here to visit my uncle… he hasn't been moved yet, has he? Normally I wouldn't think of seeing him – he's not the nicest man in the world – but my mother told me I should see him."
"Um… I don't know. What's his name?" The man, whose name tag told me his name was Kyle Schwartz, stood up, scratching the back of his neck.
It was time to throw caution to the wind. "Henry Jones, sir." Thankfully, he didn't seem to find anything interesting about that name, and proceeded to flip through a clipboard nervously, watching me as he flipped through the pages.
"Uh, yeah. He's here. Cell 8H. Oh – what's your name, anyway?"
"Veronica." I looked at him from under my eyelashes, which I had seen girls do before, and he seemed to grow slightly more awkward. How strange; it was actually working. I had picked the most random, common name I could think of, and he bought it. "Veronica Jones."
"Yeah. Oh, right – this way." He opened a door at the far end; we passed several rows, until we got to the on labeled with a giant black 'H.' He motioned for me to wait, and walked down four cells, looking into one of them. "Visitor for you, Mr. Jones. Your niece, Veronica." I heard someone stand up, and Kyle waved for me to follow him, and I walked down; the officer moved away, down to the end of the row. Professor Jones looked carefully uninterested, and I could see no bit of surprise as I looked at him, even though he knew I was clearly Liadán Emerson, a student from his class, and not the made-up Veronica Jones; he was good at this sort of thing.
"What are you in for this time, Uncle Henry?" For an almost impossible short fragment of time, the professor raised an eyebrow. I would apologize that, but for now, I had to keep up the charade. Thankfully, he was used to having to fake things out; I knew that for a fact.
"An act of terrorism." His voice was so matter-of-fact that I almost laughed; instead, I took a step back, acting horrified.
"What! After all those years of helping the United States, you've turned against us?" I put a hand over my heart; I was being over-dramatic, but I had to put up a good show for Officer Schwartz for the rest of the plan, however strange it might be, to work. If it didn't, we – it was strange to think of Dr. Jones, Mutt, Shorty, and this 'Sallah' character, whoever he was, as a 'we'… I believed I just got my wish answered in the strangest way – but, by circumstance, we were. The professor looked at me with an unfathomable look, though I could tell he was amused by my sudden display of acting.
"I didn't say I did, though it's true the Soviets pay more." Stumbling back, horrified, I pretended to trip; Schwartz came up and caught me, clearly concerned. As he helped me back to my feet, I winked at the professor; he barely nodded in return. Good… he was in on the plan. The officer supported me away, thinking that I had been severely affected about what my 'uncle' had just said.
"Oh, Kyle." I said, dragging my feet to make him stop – the bathrooms were nearby. I could see them; once again, perfect for my plan. I looked up at him, with horribly fake 'Bambi Eyes….' And he fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. I put up with kissing him, as we sort of awkwardly shuffled into the bathroom – I would wipe my mouth with antiseptic later… well, Kyle wasn't bad looking, but I wasn't a Veronica, and would be a criminal after this, so it wouldn't work out – and let him sort of half-put me up on the sink. I let one hand shift down to my bag; he didn't notice as I pulled the hardback book slowly out of the sack. Raising it slowly, I brought it down hard on the back of his head, and he blacked out instantly. Pushing him off me, I proceeded to get his ID card, and pulled off his uniform. There was a closet in the bathroom, which I stuffed him in; after placing the stolen items in my bag, I exited the bathroom serenely, and waved to the new desk guard as I went out, and tried not to run to the parking lot until I was out of sight of the window.
Hmm… this 'illegal' stuff was getting easier all the time. Well, not exactly illegal, but I'm sure knocking out an officer wouldn't earn me any brownie points.
NOTE: So? Should I add in Kyle later, or what? I'm honestly curious. Also, I have been experiencing computer problems, so if there is a long gap between chapters, don't give up on me. Thanks for reading!