Story Notes: I couldn't stop listening to Paper Plane by Avantasia whilst writing this. I'm not sure why but it seemed to help the words flow. The music that I put in the suggested Music always puts me in the mood for writing. I write a lot better when I can listen to music. Thanks for reading my story and hope you enjoy this final chapter. I even added an extra scene at the end just to lead all the events into the last story of the trilogy, which will be uploaded sometime after this story. I wanted to get The Syldavian Secret, this story and the last of the trilogy written within the first quarter of the year but it didn't work out. Please enjoy and I have more stories coming this year.
Chapter Summary: Tintin chases after the man determined to catch him as Haddock and Indra try to reach him. What does RJ have in store for Tintin?
Suggested Music
1. Paper Plane - Avantasia
2. Cold Lair Chase - John Debney
3. Shere Khan and the Fire - John Debney
4. Service & Sacrifice - Eliott Tordo Erhu
Tintin sprinted through the foliage, pushing back every last piece before stumbling into a clearing. He paused to gain his breath. His chest heaved, sucking in the oxygen he desperately needed.
The Jungle started to speak. Calls of exotic birds spread across the canopy high above, drawing his eyes to the sky. Cicadas cried in the air joining the chorus. He gulped as a growl rumbled close by and motioned for Snowy to stay close to him.
Tintin held in a gulp as he assessed his surroundings and stepped forward with care, trying not to disturb the various animals lying in wait, despite the racket he'd just made storming through the undergrowth.
A force ploughed into him.
He plummeted to the ground, with a thump.
Tintin sprang up to find the man running and immediately gave chase. The Jungle gave way to a clearing up ahead for a large concrete structure that blended into the trees and didn't supersede the height of the towering green trees. The man ran into the structure, slamming the door behind him.
Tintin attempted to follow, but the handle failed to give away.
Damm, It's locked! or jammed
A shout sounded from above, likely on the first floor.
I can't get up there...
He glanced around, spotting the drainpipe and an idea formed in his head.
Unless...
Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hands around the cold metal and began his ascend. Snowy could only watch as his master took the journey to the slightly open windows on the first floor. As Tintin slowly and carefully shimmied up the metal, the argument above increased, enough to attract any passing predator. He glanced down to see Snowy waiting very patiently and hoped this would end swiftly and quickly. Once up the drainpipe, he stepped into the ledge running across the length of the building and the windows. One false move would lead to a nasty death. The ledge barely fit his feet, but he edged forward slowly until he reached the window and peered in.
The man was shouting at another who was kneeling, bleeding from the face and begging him not to kill him.
"I see they've abandoned you, Samir.. so much for that. They've left you to face the consequences... I leave no loose ends," the man exclaimed, pointing the gun to his head.
He's armed.
Tintin didn't dare move for fear of descending to the ground and meeting a grisly end.
"No! Please! You Promised!" the man named Samir pleaded.
Samir ... who is he?
"Did I?"
He pulled the trigger, shooting him dead. Tintin immediately pulled back, forcing himself against the wall until Snowy barked.
Sshh!
He risked a glance down, motioning for Snowy to stay quiet. Just as Snowy stopped the man appeared at the window, surveying the environment.
Tintin held his breath until the man backed away from the window. As his footsteps faded, he exhaled and started to move again, trying to get nearer the window. He stepped onto the window ledge, thankful one step backwards would bring him to safety. Without warning a hand wrapped around his collar from behind. He landed on the floor in a heap. As he attempted to stand, a pistol collided with the side of his face.
"You just can't stay away can you,"
The man followed Tintin's gaze as he struggled onto his knees.
"It's not yours.." Tintin managed
"Always so honest. I've got this now. You want it back... You're going to have to catch me first," he chuckled.
The man headed for the door to grab the bag.
You're not leaving with that statue!
Tintin tackled him as he exited the door. The Man just laughed, clearly not impressed. The man used his strength to pull Tintin onto the stairwell, but Tintin refused to let go, even as the man's palm forced his head the other way.
The man grimaced and tried to push him off but as he stepped back the result ended badly. Both of them slipped tumbling down the metal stairs. They both landed awkwardly on the concrete, luckily not breaking any bones in the process. The man stood up, watching as Tintin pulled his knees to his chest.
Tintin inhaled with care as a twinge of pain spread through his side.
I've broken something ... ooh. Be lucky you didn't break your neck.
The man grabbed the statue, which by some miracle had remained in one piece despite the fall, and stood over him.
"Stay down. It'll do you no good if you don't"
As the man walked through another open door, Tintin's resolve returned.
You are not leaving...
Pushing the pain to the back of his mind he stood and stormed through the door.
An overwhelming smack to the back of his head changed everything. He fell flat on his stomach with a scream as bright red blood ran down the side of his face. He gazed around with slightly blurred vision to find the man holding a long metal pole.
I can't ...
The man tossed the pole aside, grabbing a large hammer from the cabinet.
What can I do?
Haddock hurry!
The man kicked him onto his back.
So close.. he still couldn't put his finger on the man's true identity.
Who are you!?
"Let this be a warning to you... You meddlesome reporter, of how cruel I can be,"
With a loud chuckle, he raised the hammer bringing it down with unrelenting force upon his leg smashing bone and skin. Tintin screamed, wailing in terror as his bone snapped into two. The man just laughed, but Tintin couldn't hear it. As the garage door opened he clambered into his car with a wave and drove off.
Blood started to pool beneath his leg. Tintin risked a look, but it only made him cry harder. His unconscious mind niggled, threatening to take him into darkness but he relented, unwilling to leave himself at the mercy of the jungle.
I can't move...
Stay awake... you need to stay awake...
As Snowy rushed into the garage Tintin couldn't stop shaking.
I'm cold...Why am I so cold?
His breath came sharply.
It hurts... It hurts so much I can barely breathe...
What's happening to me?
x
Haddock, Indra and the guards spread out further in the vast jungle surrounding the palace.
Come on Tintin, where are you?
A wave of nausea pulsated through his gut, forcing him to pause and swallow before he continued.
Please .. be okay Lad.
He half expected to walk into a clearing to find the man tied up and Tintin proudly holding the statue. The longer they searched the less Haddock considered it.
Something is wrong ... I can't shake it.
Indra raised his hand and everyone paused, picking up the same thing. The acceleration of an engine and not just any engine.
"Thundering typhoons, that's a car,"
"There's only one other road in this direction. Follow me!"
As they all followed Indra, Haddock gazed around taking in what he could of the surroundings. He didn't have the keen observing investigatory eyes as his best friend, but something stuck him through the leaves of the trees.
Is that ... It can't be a building, it's in the middle of nowhere.
Then an unmistakable noise sounded in the same direction.
Wait.. that's Snowy!
"INDRA! Over here,"
Haddock spurred forward, not waiting for Indra and the guards to catch him up. The Jungle gave way to the clearing and the building.
What in the world is this monstrosity? And what's it doing in the middle of a Jungle?
Snowy barked again and Haddock ran round to find a garage door fully open and entered.
Nothing could prepare him for what lay in front of him.
"Blistering ... Lad.. "
He fell at Tintin's side, cupping his cheeks softly in his hands.
Blistering .. you're freezing.
Haddock winced at the sight of the bone protruding through Tintin's skin, forcing bile to the back of his throat.
I can't move you ... what can I do!
"Haddock,"
"Stay with me lad," Haddock begged, breathing with relief that he still lived. "Listen to my voice.."
Tears filled his eyes as Tintin's eyes flickered.
No! Don't!
Indra suddenly appeared, kneeling beside him before shouting for medical help.
"We need an ambulance now!"
Tintin's head fell limply to the side.
No Tintin!
X
Tintin slipped in and out of consciousness for the next week, with little to no knowledge of where he was or how he got there. He barely remembered being rushed to the hospital, but he could recall Haddock being there, always. It hurt him that he'd never had a chance to tell him just how much he cared for him. They were friends, but Tintin couldn't help but see Haddock as the father he'd never had. The constant in his life, apart from his trusty companion Snowy.
Tintin's eyes flickered furiously as he finally came round fully for the first time since the incident. Moving his hand, soft fur tickled his fingertips. Snowy.., Tintin smiled, exhaling with relief.
I'm alive...
But I still failed.
Haddock sat to one side, his head immersed in a book.
"Haddock.."
The book fell to the floor as his attention changed to him.
"Hey Lad, you scared me half to death," Haddock exclaimed, gripping his hand hard. ".. I... I've never seen you like that...Tintin?"
Tintin stared into space, not quite listening to Haddock despite being happy to see his best friend.
"He got away. He broke my leg and ran. I know that voice... I couldn't place it,"
A knock came across the door, and Indra entered. A beaming smile appeared on his face.
"Thank goodness, we were so worried for you,"
Indra frowned, clearly noticing what Tintin was trying his best to hide.
"I'm so sorry, Indra,"
"You don't need to apologise, my friend," Indra exclaimed.
"Seconded," Haddock agreed. "This is not your fault. Once I get my hands on that brute, he's going to pay,"
Tintin sighed, not completely agreeing, but he couldn't ignore his failure.
"I couldn't get it back, the statue.. he got away, slipped through my fingers,"
"Let's just focus on you right now.." Indra said
"But.."
Tintin's attempted interjection ended as swiftly as it had begun.
"Tintin, please. You need to rest and recuperate. Don't rush it.."
x
As Tintin, the Reporter recuperated in the presence of the Snowy, the Maharaja and his best friend, another dangerous situation formed.
As the car drove through Europe, the man finally removed his hat and the scarf from around the lower half of his face. Air flooded across his bald head, and he breathed deeply recounting the last week as he gazed at the reflection of himself.
RJ Rastapopoulus, that was a very interesting detour, he told himself as the newspaper beside him flapped in the wind.
I thought It would be a waste of time.
Apart from giving that good-for-nothing reporter a taste of what he could do to him, he'd found something new. Something so new that he needed employees. The money he'd amassed from selling the statue had provided an excellent start, enough to entice potential workers.
There are some people I want specifically, he thought as the ringed article about a man named Lazlo Carriedas violently flapped in the wind.
There's someone I need.
Someone I can trust with anything...
x
11 pm, Docks. Somewhere in Greece.
Waves hit against the side of the harbour walls rocking the ships to sleep in the black night. Many of the Merchant Ships had already sailed, but a few remained. One that had remained at the port was The Antares, a black-hulled ship with rusty stars above the name and a thick double red stripe running from bow to stern. Most of the men had retired to their cabins, but others patrolled and its captain, Allan Thompson paced the bow.
After a few minutes, Allan paused, leaning against the railings as he exhaled the cigarette smoke from the tiny stub that remained. He could barely hold it within his fingertips.
A thump sounded from the stern, breaking the serenity of the sea and ship. Throwing the last of the cigarette into the harbour waters, he drew his gun and cautiously made his way forward. He steadied his gun unwilling to risk shooting one of his men. Before he could step into the light covering the stern a familiar voice spoke.
"What an interesting way to greet me,"
Wait .. is that.
Allan stepped into the light, immediately recognising his former boss, Rastapopoulous leaning against the stern railings.
"Boss?" He couldn't hide his surprise, But he didn't lower the gun. "I thought you were dead,"
"No one gets rid of me that easily," Rastapopolous chuckled.
"Why have you come back here?"
"Simple, I have a job for you. .. that is if you are up for it, of course,"
Allan slowly lowered the gun, and Rastapopoulos grinned.
Thanks for reading. This leads into the last of the trilogy that I'm writing. Can you guess the final adventure I'm using? See you soon, Have a fantastic rest of your day and I'll see you in my next fanfiction.