Seishi - Monday, October 08, 2001, 10:21 PM

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Indiana stands in the hallway of the Calcutta hotel, one arm shooting through the sleeve of his white tuxedo, the other shutting his room's door. He snaps the collar and makes his way down the fan-lined hallway. He stops by a door, glances around, then raps his knuckle on it twice.

Kate comes out of the room being used by her and Jack, looking far plainer than the nattily dressed Dr. Jones. She has her hair pulled back in a modest kerchief, and is dressed in a work shirt and unremarkable long skirt, with a long, clean apron over the attire. Her sleeves are rolled up. "You look very sharp, Indy."

A rather piratical version of Jack wanders out - he's dyed both hair and goatee to a glossy black, and managed to tint his skin the proper shade of amber brown, and he's clad in a very expensive-looking suit. "Hello there."

Kate looks over at Jack, sighing wistfully. "Oh, the makeup came out well, Jack...much better than the try earlier today."

Indiana says, "Why, thank you, Kate. I figure I may as well try and fit in a little..." He drifts off as he denotes Jack's attire and visage. "Though, I see you guys have already got that under control yourselves. Am I the only guy in this crazy outfit who isn't a Master of Disguise?"

Right on cue, a muffled crash and a pithy Japanese curse from the room next door.

Kate grins unabashedly, and goes over to rap upon Seishi's door. "Sei-chan...do you need a hand in there?"

Jack chuckles wryly. "Wait until you see me with the turban and the glasses, Jones."

Kate remarks, "And your Indian tour of duty I expect taught you the proper way to wrap one of those things, I expect?"

Seishi's voice drifts through the closed door. "I think I'm going to strangle that man. This is almost as bad as a formal rig." A pause, during which wood scrapes faintly, and presently a slightly disheveled Seishi opens the door, most of the way into a waitress' uniform. The long wrapped skirt appears to have been giving her some trouble.

Indiana leans a shoulder on an interior wall, folding his arms over his chest. He crooks a smile at Jack's comment. "Always figured you'd go native sooner or later, Celliers." He then regards Seishi in her server getup. "Nice. So what's Holmes going as? A potted plant?"

Kate giggles a bit in spite of herself, and goes to help Sei re-wrap, as modestly as she can. "Where did you put the little cap thingie? I've got some pins..."

Seishi has black leggings on under the skirt, so Indy and Jack need not blush and avert their eyes or anything of the sort. "I'm /not/ wearing a cap," she grumbles, holding her arms up somewhat so that Kate can set the skirt right.

Jack laughs softly, as he pulls a pair of wire-rimmed glasses out of his suit pocket. "You should have seen me in Arabia, Jones."

Kate frowns, finally tying off the skirt. "Well, that looks fairly neat, if you keep the tie sturdy. And you've got the black outfit underneath for when you and Whisper and I go shadowy?"

Indiana watches Seishi with a casual interest, but speaks to Jack. "You do a lot of work on Her Majesty's Behalf?"

Seishi bobs her head, slightly less peeved now that the skirt is properly in place. "Right. An advantage we have over Barbara--she's doing the evening gown thing. Doesn't conceal so much." She fusses a bit with the collar of her white blouse.

Kate is helping Sei get her wait staff uniform straight, while she herself looks like she's set to be some kitchen slavey. "Oh, Barbara...you look perfectly wonderful! So what is your cover story?"

Jack nods to Indiana, as he watches the ladies struggle with Sei's costume. "Some intelligence work on the border, up in what is now called Pakistan."

Indiana nods to Jack. "Figured as much. 'The Great Game'," He then glances over at Whisper, emitting a low and appreciative wolf whistle.

Jack grins at that. "Certainly."

Seishi looks up, and applauds lightly when she sees Whisper. "You look great. You've got one of the invitations Lara wangled?"

Indiana absently reaches up to his collar, adjusting his tie. "I'm almost afraid to ask how she managed to get them."

Kate grins. "I'm sure it was some discrete...persuasion. Although I think I heard she had some contacts she worked through?"

Jack simply looks amused, leaning himself against the doorjamb of the hotel room he's been sharing with Kate. So much for Victorian prudery. Must be Kate's perfume.

Indiana nods, frowning a little consideringly. "Well, she's got friends in all sorts of nasty little places. Don't know how she managed it so damn quick. Almost as bad as Simon." Somewhere, somebody scrawls another mark under the Tomb Raider's column in the unofficial competition.

Seishi shrugs slightly, folding her hands before her to keep herself from fidgeting with the skirt. "I think she bought them--or had a contact buy them, rather."

Indiana gestures vaguely to Seishi. "You've got a...thing..." he says, helpfully, pointing out a small piece of lint on her skirt. He then says "Money. The universal language. Speaking of which, I wonder; you think Balaton'd give the Nail up if we tried to buy it?"

Jack shakes his head faintly.

Kate pushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Do we have that much money to throw around, anyway? We have a lot, but...probably not /that/ much."

Seishi sighs, brushing the lint away carefully. "I don't think he'd sell. He's already shown he's willing to kill over it."

Jack says "I don't think we could bluff our way into fooling him into thinking we’ve got enough either, I fear."

It would appear that people are standing around in the hall, in their various disguises. Jack is a dead ringer for an Indian Sikh, Indy looks like the suave playboy, Whisper a stylish socialite...and Kate and Seishi clearly menials. Though Sei is obviously an in-public waitstaff, and Kate a kitchen slavey, in her long apron and hair kerchief.

Indiana says "Yeah, I guess that was a pretty stupid question...but, I had to ask. Guess this has gone far beyond business for the guy by this point."

Jack notes, cheerily, "All the more fun for us." He must've been brain-damaged from a fall off a horse. Or else it's all the inbreeding.

Indiana looks dubiously at Jack. "You and Lara go to the same school or something?"

Seishi fusses with her long wrapped skirt and looks less than enthused. "That 'not getting shot' thing, Jack. Remember that?"

Jack gives Indy a rather bemused look. "I rather doubt it. I don't think Eton admits young ladies, even in this day and age."

Holmes emerges in his wait-staff outfit. It /so/ doesn't fit him, and he hasn't put on his makeup yet. "Ah, very good, very good." he says approvingly at the assembled.

"And let me just say again," Seishi sighs as she turns toward Holmes, "I can't /believe/ I am doing this." She regards him critically, then grimaces. "Oh, hell, I knew I'd forgotten something." And promptly ducks back into her room.

Kate hrms. "Holmes, do you need to have the trousers let out on that? You've got 'floods'."

Whisper emerges from her room, hands twitching a little at her sides, brushing over the black crepe of her skirt. She looks around the group, then manages a nervous smile. "So, once more into the fray?"

Indiana's lip curls up at Jack's reply. He then eyes the newly arrived Great Detective in his working class duds. "See what I mean? Masters of Disguise."

Holmes grins slightly. He suddenly hunches down, brings his elbows into his side, slightly lids his eyes and says in Chinese-accented English, "No no. Fits very well. Thank you thank you." And sure enough, it fits him perfectly, although he still looks weird without makeup. He stands back up then.

Jack laughs softly at Indiana. "Well, I pretty much have to - otherwise I'd stick out like sore thumb, with my coloring."

Kate shakes her head, murmuring. "You know, you could have a career in the carnival side shows, as the man of a thousand faces."

Seishi notes dryly, "Your neck is going to hurt," as she emerges again from her room, with a bow tie in hand. A distressingly non-tied bow tie. "I hope someone knows how to do these things. Preferably /without/ strangling the wearer."

Jack holds out a hand to Seishi. "Here - let me?"

Holmes laughs easily. "I /was/ on the stage." he says gracefully.

Holmes allows Jack to tie the tie.

Seishi hands it over to Jack, and presents her throat to him as though expecting an executioner's blade.

Indiana blinks, shakes his head, then scratches his neck. He then fishes around in his pockets, patting himself down. He comes up with the small microphone assembly Lara's given to the League. "Anybody know how do -these- things?"

Jack's hands are deft with long practice, as he hums to himself - recognizable as 'Bonny Dundee' "There you are," he replies, stepping back.

Holmes takes his assembly from Indiana. "Observe." he says to everyone. "The microphone goes here..." Just inside his collar. "And the speaker here..." Tucked in his ear. "And the battery pack here." Slid into his coat pocket like a credit card.

<OOC> Jack suddenly pictures us all as very strange versions of the Agents in the Matrix.

<OOC> Seishi snickers. More like Charlie's Angels for me, Kate, and Whisper.

<OOC> Holmes says "Hello, Angels. Watson. ;)"

Kate is reminded of her own connection, and fishes it out of an apron pocket, concealing the ear that holds it with a deliberately stray lock of dark hair.

Indiana squints a little. He works on getting his in place, then looks in a convenient mirror, flattening his collar and standing straight. "And nobody notices? We hope?"

Holmes says amiably, "Nobody will notice. I've checked his security radio frequencies and they operate on a different wavelength, and transmitter scans are only done once a day, at eight a.m."

Kate says, "Well, if you insert it correctly, it shouldn't be seen unless someone is looking specifically for it..."

Whisper fiddles with the earpiece and finally gets it inserted, making a face for a second or two. "Okay."

Indiana turns, checks his profile. He then snarls his upper lip back, looking a bit like a rabid dog, checking his teeth. He is not a narcissist.

Jack stifles a smirk, as he fiddles with his own set. Americans are so vain - it's really quite endearing.

Seishi sighs, stepping back. "Thanks," she tells Jack, and then sets her attention on her own rig, which had apparently been tucked under the waist of her skirt for safekeeping. A few little silver ear-cuffs help distract the eye from the speaker, and the microphone goes neatly inside her collar. She does, however, have to turn her back on the various assembled and halfway unbutton her blouse to secure the battery pack, and this she does rather nonchalantly, considering.

Holmes says amiably, "Whisper, Kate, Seishi and I will be the invisible ones, who Balaton will not know of until it is too late. Jack, Indy, and Lara will be the ones who will try to make contact with him. Beyond that, I fear, the plan will have to be improvised." He says it like it's a dirty word.

Indiana turns from his reflection, glancing with a sly grin at Holmes. "Hey, relax. Improvisation's a specialty of mine. I'll draw this guy out."

Holmes says almost comically solemnly, "I anticipate no less."

Jack has assumed that stone pharaoh expression again. Comment? Him? Surely not.

Kate grins to herself, though she doesn't have much more to say either.

Seishi turns back around, smoothing her blouse back down and seeming reasonably satisfied. She looks between Holmes and Indy with a certain vague doubt, but doesn't say anything either.

Indiana glances around at the poker faces. "What?" he asks, with a smile. "What?"

Kate says "Ah, once contact has been made with Balaton, what then? We'll get what information we can over the headsets..."

Holmes nods. "We'll move away from the party individually or in pairs. You're wearing the dark clothing underneath that I recommended?" Well, he recommended dark and concealable.

<OOC> Jack grins. The League of Extraordinary Neenjas.

Kate nods her head. "Easy, under this dishwasher outfit."

Seishi bobs her head in a quick nod. "Of course. Along with what equipment I could conceal--which isn't much, I'm afraid, but."

Indiana nods slowly to Holmes, moving to lean against the wall again, a hand tucked in a hip pocket.

Holmes nods. "Likely there will be several things which must be accomplished at once. For example, if we locate the nail, it may be in a safe, or secured electronically, with a code concealed elsewhere."

Whisper nods, frowning down at her bare arms, "My shirt had to be sleeveless, which isn't great. Then again, this is the only dress I have--and I can't pass for Indian as easily as some of us."

Holmes nods slightly, "It should be sufficient," he says. "You have other means of avoiding notice that we do not."

Kate says "Besides Balaton, and some goons he might have with him...any other people we should watch out for?"

Holmes looks to Indiana expectantly, like he would know.

Indiana shrugs his shoulders a little. "Well, the guy's circle is constantly changing, but there's some guy he calls 'Abu' who keeps popping up in the stories about him. Apparently he was with some sort of Pakistani commando unit before he got into the private muscle business. Likely recruited Balaton's current passel of thugs from the local underworld or mercenary companies."

Seishi sighs. "Happy happy, joy joy," she murmurs.

Holmes thinks about it a moment, then smiles. "I think my choice of being part Chinese was very serendipitous, then." he says, giving a little nod.

Whisper grimaces, "Why does everyone we end up dealing with have teams of thugs? Not to mention ex-commandos."

Kate mutters, "It's the A-Team syndrome."

Seishi tells Whisper dryly, "It's a rule. Let's be grateful it's not demons this time."

Indiana looks at Holmes with a Cheshire smile, then looks between the femme contingent. "Well, I figure Balaton's more of a 'quality' over 'quantity' kind of guy."

Seishi grins wryly. "If that was meant to reassure, Indy, it missed the mark a little bit."

Whisper smirks, "So we're dealing with only the best in brutal thugs and former commandos. I'm glad to hear we're only involving ourselves with quality."

Indiana nods. "Refreshing, isn't it?"

Kate says "I, personally, only like my limbs being shattered by the best."

Seishi sighs again, and rolls her eyes. "This is going to wind up involving fully automatic firearms, isn't it?"

Holmes rolls his eyes a little bit.

Kate says "Hopefully not. I have relatively little experience with them."

Whisper winces at the mention of that. "The end with the hole gets pointed at the other guy, right?" she jokes.

Kate says "Yes, but the kickback makes good aim tricky."

Holmes says easily, "Hopefully we won't be asked to use them." Thereby, in pulp world laws...;)

Indiana waves a hand. "I don't know. Even if these guys do get wind of what we're up to, I doubt a collector of rare objects is gonna arm his people with tommy guns. Too much chance for collateral damage. If I had to guess, I'd say we're more likely to see knives and clubs. If, again, we end up facing them at all."

Seishi grins lopsidedly. "We're not without our own tricks, either, any of us."

Kate says, "True enough."

Whisper frowns and pats the dress around the leg area. "Should I have strapped a knife to my thigh or something? It seemed sort of cheesy."

Kate says, "Well, once you get the dress off, it would be handy."

Seishi asks reasonably, "Would you use it?"

Kate says, "Your body suit is on underneath the dress, yes?"

Whisper nods at Kate and, after a moment of thought, at Seishi, "Maybe. I think so--if the situation needed it."

Holmes listens with interest, but expresses no opinion.

"Then go ahead and bring one," Seishi tells Whisper. She's fidgeting again. "When are we going, anyhow?"

Indiana pulls back his cuff, looking at his watch. "You guys'll probably want to get down to the place in an hour or so..."

Holmes nods. "We'll be going in with the catering staff. I've made arrangements."

Seishi quirks a lopsided grin. "Great. Plenty of time to work up a dandy case of nerves."

Whisper looks between Indy and Seishi, "We can get in a lot of quality pacing. Maybe even wear a path in the rug."

Holmes laughs. "I recommend an improving book."

Seishi turns a suspicious look on Holmes. "You /didn't/ just suggest I read a self-help book, did you?"

Whisper nods at Holmes, "I actually brought one or two. On the other hand, I don't know if I could concentrate on the Amazon right now, fun as it is."

Holmes looks slightly confused for a moment. "No no. Improving. Useful. Ah...felicitous?"

Seishi's face clears. "Hel-lo, culture clash," she says wryly.

Holmes nods. "Quite so." he says with a quick smile. Comes and goes. Zwiip.

Indiana smiles, reaching up to scratch his brow.

Whisper leans against the door, eyeing Seishi and Holmes for a second. "I just couldn't imagine him recommending John Gray."

Seishi tugs absently at the end of her tidy braid and informs Whisper gravely, "I'd be forced to murder him if he did." A pause, and then she looks to Holmes again to apologize; "Sorry about that. I'm nervous." Duh.

Holmes grins. "There are many offenses against you I have done that would make many lesser women turn to violence." he says amiably. "You live on my /couch/."

Whisper nods, "The effects on my back alone after that would be enough to make me homicidal."

Seishi replies promptly in a wry drawl. "I've /noticed/ that, yes."

Holmes nods. "So I am quite grateful for your deep reserves of patience." And he bows.

Seishi can't help but smile. "It's all right, you're forgiven." She catches herself starting to fuss with her skirt again, and makes herself leave it alone.

Holmes grins and withdraws to his room, then. "See you when we are to leave."

Whisper waves in Holmes's direction, glancing down at her own skirt rather skittishly.

<An hour or so later...>

The combination of Western European rich, Hindu of high status, and the assortment of entertainments offered make for a very heady evening. East meets West in this gathering, as people sit on couches and chairs, as well as splay out on pillows. Food and drink and exotic drugs circulate, reedy Indian music permeating the room. On a raised dais, several young women perform sutra dances clad in saris of all different colors.

Holmes moves through the crowd with a tray of champagne. He looks to be about five-foot nine, slightly bruised, hung over, and half-Chinese. None of these things are true. His white coat and black trousers fit admirably well but has absolutely no presence, none at all. Completely nondescript and unnoticeable.

Indiana enters the room, a hand resting in a hip pocket, the white suit jacket of his tuxedo buttoned at the waist. It is a suave and calm demeanor, but there's something sharper and faintly dangerous behind his eyes. After a moment's pause, he walks past a waiter, scooping a fluted champagne glass from his serving tray. "Thanks."

Whisper does her best to blend in, appearing to be one of those Western European rich mentioned above. Black crepe may look nice, but it's nothing to make her stand out, thankfully, and she's standing silently and watching the dancers at the moment, a small glass of something green in one hand and a plate of brightly-colored food in the other.

Jack isn't there.

Or at least, there's no one obviously identifiable as such - no tall blonde Britons in evening wear mingle in the crowd, or loiter at the buffet. He's either never made it here...or managed to blend into the crowd of Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs.

Lara is thus far nowhere to be seen, at least until the troupe of dancers executes a turn that brings them 'round to face the party. First row, third from the left, her skin has been darkened to a dusky brown contrasted by her bright yellow sari. Only those who know her features would recognize her, and to others she would appear to be a half-breed - no longer uncommon in this day and age.

Seishi isn't particularly hard to identify... but she is a little hard to /see/. Her own diminutive height and a supremely self-effacing outward manner make her not easily noticed, an effect helped along by her purloined waitress uniform. She cruises the room, collecting empty glasses on a tray, and trying not to get stepped on.

Conversations drift here and there throughout the room, wheeling and dealing, wars won and lost, seductions succeeding and failing. And openly enjoying the festivities - indeed, in the center of it all, is the host, Balaton - smoking cigars, a woman on each arm, leering at the dancing girls and jovially enjoying interacting with his associates of the 'upper class crime' world.

Holmes moves nearer to Balaton's lieutenant, sharp eyes picking out everything about them - reading their wrist-cuffs like billboards, their elbow-creases like newspaper headlines. He does this without facing them directly, attending to several hookah-smoking women reclining on silk cushions, putting champagne glasses near their hands attentively.

Indiana sips his champagne, watches the conversation, engages in small talk. Then, Balaton's leering face catches his eye. Smirking a little to himself, he gulps the rest of his drink, smacks his lips, then strides towards the man of the hour.

"Excuse me, Mr. Balaton. Don't believe we've met." He removes his hand from his hip pocket, holding it out to the other man. "Henry Jones. Dr. Henry Jones. I'm with the Museum of Antiquities....?" His voice lilts up into a querying tone at the end, as if he's unsure if the black marketeer has heard of him.

While Jack isn't obvious, there's a tall Sikh with a neatly trimmed goatee and wire-rimmed glasses amiably discussing the Indian publishing industry. He has an air of watchfulness about him, and he breaks off his conversation for a moment as Indiana pipes up.

"Very pleased to meet you, Dr. Jones." He's either quite clever, or he hasn't heard of Indy. He offers his hand. "I hope you're enjoying my little soiree. Only the finest, under my roof - I have very particular and refined tastes. Antiquities, you say? A favorite past-time of mine, collecting antiquities..."

Whisper takes a step or two away from the side of the room as she spots Dr. Jones approaching Balaton, her face showing curiosity and maybe more interest than that. Easily mistaken for girlish admiration, especially since she hesitates before approaching him further, and takes a look around.

Lara continues to dance with the rest of the troupe, until of course, they come to their end. The girls take their bows, and begin to step off the stage, moving through the crowd. Ahh...it would seem they serve another purpose other then dancing. Lara steps to the side a moment, as if to properly adjust the drape of her sari - keeping close eye peripherally.

Seishi appears at the elbow of the tall Sikh's conversation partner, adding the lieutenant's drained glass to the small collection of them on her tray. Unobtrusive and polite, of course, face slightly downturned.

The Sikh nods absently, and plucks a glass of water from Seishi's tray, before resuming his conversation. He doesn't seem to have noticed the waitress...but there's an instant's golden flash, as if the tall man had palmed a piece of jewelry.

Whisper steps forward toward Dr. Jones and Balaton after a minute or two, not directly approaching either of them but certainly hanging around on the sidelines. Oh, look, it's Interesting People. She tries very hard to look empty-headedly curious.

Indiana shakes Balaton's hand, then looks around appreciatively. "That is your reputation. Saw some of the objects you've got on display. Extraordinary range, fantastic condition..." He gives a slightly knowing look back at Balaton. "You must have some amazing sources."

Seishi pauses briefly as though in surprise, but it's very brief. In the next moment she's about her business again, with a quick dip of her head to the tall fellow as she passes by. Her circuitous route will, sooner or later, bring her near Balaton, but she's certainly not approaching the man.

Balaton laughs pompously, then gestures. "Yes, I have some marvelous things on display..." his gaze lingers on one of the dancers, bent slightly to inspect her sari, and his tone becomes distracted. "But as for my sources, well...let me just say that it is always important to keep one's friends close..." the man then looks to Indy. "And one's enemies closer." He beckons to one of the lieutenants. "Abu. Bring me that one." he indicates the dancer, and then smiles once more at Indy. "Was there a particular part of my collection that caught your interest, Doctor?"

Abu, a tall, bald man with thick arms steps back and away, swerving around Whisper to walk up to Lara. She looks up...and up...and up...and listens quietly to the man before rising and smoothing out her sari, beginning to walk toward Balaton. She bows politely to the affluent Sikh as she passes his way.

Jack inclines his head politely as he sips from what seems to be a glass of water, before ambling a bit closer to Balaton and his current crop of lackeys.

Indiana attempts to look amiably ambivalent, shrugging a little. "Well, I've got a backer back in the States who told the Museum you had a particular hankering for artifacts from the Early Roman Imperial Period." He eyes the slinky woman in the dancer's getup, voice lowering a little. "Early Christian relics, in particular."

Whisper stiffens a little as she watches the woman go by, but it's subtle, a slight tension in the muscles at her throat, a brief squaring of her shoulders in Balaton's direction, and a sudden sip of her drink. She watches quietly, picking up some sort of meat on bread and taking a bite.

"Indeed! Indeed!" Balaton beams at Indy. "You know quite a bit about my interests, Doctor - did you know I came within a hair's inch of locating the Spear of Longinus? The lead turned out to be a hoax, sadly enough. But I have managed to find other relics of the period to make my collection considerable." As Lara steps up to him, he takes her arm possessively, like a rider grabbing onto the reigns of a horse. "But tonight, I am interested in another sort of pleasure then the one I have enlarging my collection. Still, if you are very interested, I would be delighted to show you some of the collection that's been sequestered during the party. One of the circulating servants glides past Seishi, kneeling before the Sikh with a hookah on a tray. The scents wafting from it can only be one thing - opium.

The tall man deliberately removes his glasses and wipes away a nonexistent smudge from the lens, with a silk handkerchief. The glasses are replaced, and the 'kerchief flicked dismissively at the hookah-bearing servant, as he murmurs a polite no-thank-you in accented Hindi. To those who know him, though, the effort of will that that series of little gestures required is obvious.

Indiana chuckles, controlling his urge to wipe the oily smile off of Balaton's face. He rocks back on his heels slightly, opens his eyes, then says, "Why, I'd be flattered. My backer'll be real interested to hear about your rarer finds. Maybe we can come to some sort of understanding."

Balaton grins, pleased. He turns profile to Indy, examining Lara. "Well aren't you a lovely one...you must be new." he takes her by the chin, examining her this way and that. "Definitely some British in that blood of yours..." he licks his lips and turns her head this way and that, still very much like she's an animal to be examined. Then he looks sidelong again. "Excellent! Why don't you enjoy the party for a bit longer...I still have guests I must greet, but before the night is over, I shall indeed offer a tour of my secure collection for you myself." He turns back to Lara. "Well, larla, will you escort your master for the rest of the night?" he asks with more of a demand, as if expecting her to consider it a great honor. Then he waves a hand. "Doctor Jones, is there anything else I can do for you before I must go attend to my other guests?"

Whisper, standing as she is between clumps of people, may find herself attracted to the soft sibilant whispers of three men, each with their hand pressed to their ears - must be security.

Whisper turns and smiles brightly as she seems to see someone across the room, then moves a little closer to the three men, as if trying to get to said person but held back by the crowds.

Holmes disappears into the kitchen briefly, then passes by Whisper's elbow. "Champagne." he says in deeply Chinese-accented Hindi. Not really a question. He gives her a brief glance.

Indiana is on the verge of saying 'You can stop pawing her like that, you little...' but stuffs it back down. Clearing his throat, he instead blandly offers an assent via a nod and a "No, you go right ahead, Mr. Balaton; the night's still young." He gives a short, wary look at 'Larla', then turns to move off from Balaton's cluster.

Whisper takes the glass, setting the green stuff down somewhere. She didn't like it much anyhow.

The Sikh is hovering not far from Balaton, ostensibly admiring his choice of dancing girls. His expression remains affable, but the muscles in his jaw are tight with strain.

Lara keeps her eyes downward, not even a tightening of her jaw betraying her as Balaton paws her. "If Sahib would like," she replies, her accent revealed as the singsong lilt of an Indian woman. Only a flick of her eyebrow acknowledges Indy as someone she recognizes - and then turn placid again. She lets Balaton whisk her away, just as another one of the dancers slides up to Indy. "Is there anything I can do for you, Sahib?" she purrs.

The Sikh and the servant are treated to a lot of rumor and whispers - it would seem that it's well known that Balaton has in fact purchased something that he feels will make him the most elite of all collectors, but no one knows what it is, and only a handful foster guesses.

Holmes waits until he is in the kitchen and says quietly, "It's in the south wing. Only Balaton and Abu know where exactly it is, though."

Whisper lets one of the guests, a rather overblown woman, corner her for a moment or two, then slips off toward the ladies' room. Yes, it's obvious she wants to depart. Why, though, is a different story. She ducks into an alcove on the way long enough to reply: "They know we're here, but there hasn't been any recognition. Dr. Jones is a bit suspicious, though. Instructions?"

Indiana stands by a potted plant, eyes roving left. Then right. The dancer's sudden closeness distracts him, and he offers her a quirked grin. "Why, hello there. What's your name?" He casts a very quick look back in Lara's direction as the transmitted discussion murmurs in his ear.

"Amara." the Indian dancer replies, slipping her hand onto Indy's arm. "Is there some way I can serve Sahib this evening?" The question is innocent enough - yeah, right. Lara can still be seen, her sunshine colored sari making her hard to miss, but she cannot reply to the running commentary considering her proximity.

One of the guests casually says something to Seishi in Hindi, obviously a demand for something.

Jack is close enough to note into the mini-mic, having turned away to admire one of the tapestries on the wall, "She wants a mango lassi, Seishi."

Seishi hesitates--and, at Jack's helpful translation, lets out a tiny sigh of relief and bows her head deeply to the woman before turning towards the kitchen.

Indiana drily comments "Amara - lovely name. Your boss has excellent taste, Amara." He then escorts the woman across the party floor, drifting a bit away from the center of the festivities, but still in eyesight of Lara and Balaton.

"Surprised he doesn't keep you girls to himself, like the rest of his treasure." The Doctor stops to look at a piece of displayed statuary depicting Kali with a faintly hooded expression.

"Oh, of course not." the girl says quickly. "We are as much offered as entertainment to the guests as anything you may partake of here." she smiles up at Indy, seeming eager to assure him that his 'enjoyment' would not be in peril. "Though the master often chooses one or two to sample himself during such an occasion, usually a new one." she sees him eyeing the statue. "Do you like Indian art, Sahib? There is much to be found here."

The Sikh turns from his contemplation to smile blandly at Balaton, teeth bright against the darkness of his beard. <Very well> he returns, his Hindi tinged with the accent of the Northwest. <And no, I'm quite fine - your hospitality is very generous as it is.>

Indiana snaps back from his reverie, brows knitting at the dancer's question. "I'm sure there is," he says slowly. Then, somewhat brighter, he notes "I'm more interested in his Judaean collection."

Holmes says into the microphone. "Seishi. Count two hundred and go to the east door as if you were going to the servant's restroom. Watch for a man with a red coat. Tell me which way he's facing. If north, go into the bathroom and count fifteen, then leave and go south. He'll be gone. If he's facing south, /run/ down the west hallway and get inside the second archway. Whisper, stay where you are for now." He re-emerges back into the room with his blank face and the tray full of champagne glasses again. Apparently he trusts everyone else to be able to be where they need to be. Wherever that is.

Lara is most likely categorizing exactly how she's going to chop off the components of Balaton's hands, but her expression is as placid as a cow. <Indeed...well, perhaps one of the dancers here might offer you some amusement? I'd offer you this orchid,> he gestures to Lara, <But I'm afraid I'm going to be a bit selfish just for myself.> He leers, and it's not a pleasant thing. <You!> he indicates Seishi. <Bring me a glass of Riesling, the '72.>

Amara's expression grows eager, "The master has not chosen to display that portion of his collection tonight. But it is low lit, very quiet..." she leans in close. "Would you like to see it?" Again, only an idiot or a monk would miss the suggestion in her voice.

Jack's expression remains utterly bland. <Perhaps> he allows, with a vague gesture.

Whisper stays in the hallway, passing the time by nibbling from the plate of food, which she never did put down, and watching to see if anyone goes past. Tucked away in the alcove, she looks out on the hallway a little warily.

Seishi's head snaps up at Balaton's order, and just as quickly bows again in deference, with, naturally, no clue what he just said. Guessing that it was something about a drink--because what else would he be talking to a waitress for?--she continues on into the kitchen at a slightly quicker pace, beginning to count silently as she goes.

Indiana looks out of the extreme corner of his vision toward Balaton. And Lara. Hears Holmes plan. He then smiles lazily back at Amara. "Sure," he says. "Let's go." Walking at an even pace, Dr. Jones and his appointed date move out of the crowd, disappearing down a side corridor.

Holmes is out in the main room, just as deferential and silent as before. No indication that anything's changed. Of course he can't resist a little glance at Balaton, just to get a close look at his opponent. A little sniff. Hardly worth the effort.

Balaton seems to forget his drink order for the moment, and instead with a grip on Lara's arm, he nods in departing to the Sikh, heading from a different vantage point in roughly the same direction that Amara and Indy are going in - but heading for a different hallway He whispers in her ear and then rather possessively licks her cheek. Lara's expression twitches for just a moment, but she lets him drag her off.

Amara is delighted, and she quite willingly leads Indy off toward one of the hallways of the palace.

Seishi, Whisper, Holmes and Jack - they too follow their own

Different pathways, the same destination.

<And now for a word from our sponsors.>

Seishi - Monday, October 15, 2001, 9:24 PM

------------------------------------------

So. When last we left our intrepid adventurers, Indiana was being led off by the pretty little Hindu courtesan, and Lara was being dragged off in much the same direction by Balaton, for a bit of a 'private' showing, har har har. Seishi, Holmes, and Jack are circulating in the crowd, Whisper listening in to some of Balaton's men chatting, and no one's managed to spot Kate yet.

That's because Kate has, up to this point, remained in the kitchen, washing dishes primarily but also helping with various food preparations and arrangements.

Holmes pauses when he reaches a window and curses softly. "Jack," he murmurs into his closed fist, muting it with a soft cough. "A passing policeman has spotted our van. I think we should move it. Go to the southwest wall about ten feet from the intersection and wait there - leave the engine off but make sure you're ready to go at a moment's notice.." And off goes Jack. Holmes sounds a little annoyed near the end. He hates randomness.

Indiana walks with his svelte companion away from the sounds of sitar music and thickly accented chatter. "...Museum's got a very generous offer in mind for your Mr. Balaton if his collection's everything it's supposed to be," he says, continuing his small talk with the dancing girl. "Could be a very good thing for all concerned."

Whisper stays back in the alcove where she was previously hiding from society at large.

Seishi is, in fact, hiding out in the kitchen just this moment, counting silently to herself. One ninety-seven, one ninety-eight, one ninety-nine... "Two hundred," she says softly over their comm system, and emerges from the kitchen to head with a purposeful stride towards a hallway, as though on her way to the servants' bathroom.

The dancer smiles. "Is there a particular part of the Sahib's collection you'd like to see?" she invites alluringly as the move through the museum's dark halls. Meanwhile...

"Come my dear," says Balaton as he escorts Lara along a parallel hall. "We shan't be long from the party, I assure you."

Indiana eyes the darkened rows of display cases and costumed mannequins. His footsteps and those of his female accompaniment echo down the hall, the sounds of the party now quite distant. "Well," he says, pretending to have to think about it. He rubs his jaw, then points an index finger at assorted exhibits. "Let's see. Neolithic. No." He walks a bit further. "Feudal Japan. Mmmno." Further down the hall. "Roman Empire. Here we go."

Lara gets to a point at which she isn't inclined to go any further. "I'm sorry, Sahib." she says in her lilting Hindi accent, "But I do not think now is the right time, for the guests should not lose their host." Balaton pauses to look at her. "Larla," he says gently but with a chill look in his eye, "I did not hear you just question me, did I?"

The courtesan walks forward to the hall, pauses briefly, and taps a passcode into a keypad at the side of the arches. "There." she says in satisfaction, and steps through, beckoning to Indy. "What wonders may I show you, Sahib?"

Indiana glances at the keypad as the security code is entered, but fails to get a good look at it. He purses his lips, a small frown in his brow as he follows the happy Hindu hooker into the hiding place. "Let's see what we can see," he says, eyes moving up to the corners of the room and its contents, searching, questing for signs of Judean artifacts.

Seishi's hallway is muffled and quiet, dimly lit with slants of moonlight through the corridor, even though the party bounces onwards only a few feet on the other side of the wall. The red-jacketed man is at the north end of the corridor heading north, towards her, carrying a martini and /almost/ looking like a party guest. Holmes, Kate suddenly notices, is no longer in the kitchen, "Barbara, you should leave your alcove and follow the blond man with the grey trousers." He's referring to one of the lieutenants Whisper's been spying on, who is just getting up from his table. "Not too close. Find out what door he's going into. Kate, move down to the south end of the washtubs and get ready to move."

Kate hears the commands as she's busy scrubbing down cooking pans. She gives no outward show of the fact that she's hearing voices in her head, but calmly shuts off the water and pours some soap in as if letting some tough pans soak. She picks up a few dripping cast-iron pans and carries them down to the directed south end, snagging a drying towel along the way so that it looks like she has something logical to do before being given the word.

"Sahib," replies Lara, feigning a tone of fear, "I did not mean to question...." her words are cut off by a loud thump. The communicator emits a static squawk, and Lara's voice is no longer heard.

At the end of the room is a glass case, the sort you walk up to and look down into to see the contents. It's backlit by gentle white glow. The houri lingers by the arch, though her expression is impatient. She seems surprised Indiana really /does/ just want to look at the artifacts.

Whisper steps out from the alcove a few minutes after the blond man rises, making her way gracefully through the crowd, holding her head high and darting her gaze around as if searching for someone.

Seishi smooths a hand reflexively over her crisp waitress' blouse and walks, briskly and calmly, up the hallways to the servants' bathroom, stepping through the door and then stopping just behind it and waiting for the fellow in the red jacket to pass on by. Nope, nothing to see here, just a good little waitress taking a potty break. "He's going north," she murmurs, then hisses very softly when Lara's communicator goes quiet.

The music builds as the glow from the display is reflected on Dr. Jones suddenly apprehensive and expectant face. The dancing girl no doubt notices the gleam of something approaching lust in the American's crystal blue eyes, which seem to be alight. He walks slowly with his hands loose and at his sides, shoulders slightly forward. The fingers on his right hand rub together. He says, to be heard over the comlink and by the houri, "I think this may just be Exactly what I'm looking for." He eyes the space around the display, then peers down into it.

Holmes curses quietly to himself, or at least he would if he wasn't wired to the gills. "Count fifteen, then leave the bathroom and go through the archway that is to the south. Now might be a good time to switch to your dark clothing." He has no guidance for Whisper, it seems. Grey-pants-man saunters along a narrower corridor to an incongruously modern door and passes through. Whisper can see security monitors beyond and the man asks "What's up?..." before the door closes. "Kate," Holmes voice says. "Count thirty and meet me in the southern hallway."

Eight nails. The bastard's got eight nails in there, all of different lengths and materials, none of them documented. And Indy also needs to figure out how to get through the case. "I see, Sahib." says the prostitute in a purr. "Indeed, I see quite well." Pressing a small piece of jewelry attached to her earlobe, she darts back out of the archway, types quickly into the keypad, and from the top of the arch, a metal wall slams down with a resounding thud. Indiana can hear the hiss of vacuum as the air is slowly but surely being sucked out of the room, and streaks of light begin appearing all over the hall at various angles, criss-crossing, intersecting, diagonaling. Laser beams. Lucky he's already next to the case.

Still no word from Lara.

Whisper pauses before the door, ducking to the side and attempting to blend into the shadows. It's not like many people go by here. The security station isn't exactly a popular spot. "Do you want me to try and gain access?" she asks over the communicator.

Kate glances briefly behind her at the other people bustling and occupied in the kitchen, and then slips away around a turn. A hasty hop into a broom closet allows her to yank off her apron, loose dress and kerchief and thrust the costume down into a bucket, jamming a mop in over the top so the ditched clothes aren't obvious. Now dressed head to toe in black and holding a smaller but serviceable iron skillet in her hand, Kate peeks out of the closet and then slips into the empty passageway...en route to her rendezvous with Holmes right on time.

Indiana turns with a stupefied expression as the archway slams shut. He starts to say "Hey, just wa - !" when the door clanks into place. As he turns, the carnation on his lapel is suddenly alight as the scintillating edge of a laser beam touches it. An inch further...

Indy pulls back further, and tosses the toasted flower onto the floor. He says "Got a problem," in a bemused mutter to the com. He then gulps air and holds it, eyes looking crazily around the beams source points and the case. Think. Think.

Seishi begins methodically stripping off her waitress' uniform, counting silently as she neatly folds the blouse and lays it on the floor of the bathroom, then unties the wrapped skirt, shakes it out, and folds it into a long, narrow strip which she winds around her waist. Thus transformed from waitress-proper to ninja-perfect, she finishes the count and steps back out into the hallway, glancing cautiously all around. Including up. Life in Beacon Harbor has taught her to always look up.

Within the case, the eight nails rest. Three of them, he knows, would never have been used. They're made of softer metals that would've never held up, though as silver and gold, they sure might have distracted an unknowing thief's eye. Unbeknownst to Indiana, he has perhaps, 8-10 minutes of air available. And minimal moving room. And now there's a banging on the door, like someone's trying to figure out a way in. Good guys? Bad guys? No way of knowing.

Holmes is there to meet Kate in his own version of the dark catsuit - really just a black linen dress shirt and a black waistcoat and black trousers and black shoes. He's swiftly wiping off the last of his makeup with a quick motion of his black handkerchief and replying muffledly to Whisper: "Stay where you are. If he leaves he'll go further down the corridor. Then see if there's anyone else in the room." . Kate and Holmes are in an /awfully/ dark part of the hallway - oh - Holmes unscrewed the lightbulb from a lamp to create this little pool of blackness. "Come on," he says to Kate, moving stealthily down yet even a third corridor. His feet make no sound above a whisper. But he is drawn up short by Indy's comment. "Describe the situation, doctor. Quickly." he says. Seishi's hallway has a nice high ceiling, arched, shadowy, lit by lamps nearer the floor, but it's uninhabited as she penetrates further into the house. Suddenly across the other end of the corridor she sees a veiled and bikini-d woman talking into a tiny radio, walking very quickly, only visible for a moment, and not audible from Seishi's distance at all. She didn't look very happy, though.

Kate's own booted feet move quietly behind Holmes, silent and well-tractioned. She's not saying anything to the Great Detective, just listening to the conversation over the com while looking around, about, sharp eyes hunting for movement or the sight of others approaching.

"Indy? Indy, can you hear me?" The muffled voice coming through the door can be heard even across the hall. It's Lara. She must be the one pounding on the door.

Indiana's face takes on a new sheen; not from the thrill of a find. No, this is sweat. "Locked in the room with the nail. Some sort of ray beams in here. Running out of air," he patters into his radio. Gulp. He reaches up to tug at his collar and loosen his tie as he examines the case. The adventurer's head tilts like a bird's as he regards the faux nails, discounting them. Searching pockets. A lighter, a notepad, a pen. They clatter on the floor.

Seishi frowns when she catches sight of the woman, and she moves into a quicker pace, almost a running walk, smooth and soundless.

That leaves five. Two of them appear to have a rusty reddish color, one is iron black, and one glints faintly like steel. The lights and the lasers sputter briefly, and a curse is heard from behind the door. "Jones! Are you in there? Are you alive? Jones!"

The door in front of Whisper jerks open and the man with the grey pants comes out swiftly, affixing a silencer to a very large automatic pistol. He comes out with a friend, a blue-suited Asian man who isn't carrying anything. They proceed further up the hall, /fast/, almost at a run. The woman Seishi's following is saying, in Hindi, into her radio, "...in the room with the lasers, he may have friends..." But they're all converging on more or less the same spot, the hallways being arranged like a Roman numeral III with Holmes and Kate moving down the first I, Whisper and her playmates in the second, Seishi in the third and the woman walking along the southern crossbar, perhaps to meet the two men. Holmes reacts instantly to Indy's statement. "I need access to the safe in the security room," he says. "And Whisper, you need to find Dr. Jones' location. There should be a pumping system that's removing the air. You're the only one that can get to it. Find a vent, preferably one near the bottom of the wall, and /hurry/, if you can." He moves faster down the corridor. "Get ready," he tells Kate. "They're going to be waiting for us."

Kate gives Holmes a nod, no words necessary. She's picking up the pace in her walking, hugging the wall as they move down the hallway.

Whisper ducks to the side, away from the two men, and nods once. "I'm dematerializing now. This'll be my last communication until I find the doctor." And then there's a thump, and a soft slither, as both device and evening gown fall to the floor, leaving only a blue mist that quickly turns shapeless and vanishes into the vent.

Indiana clenches his teeth, eyes flitting from nail. To nail. To nail. His vision bobs a little. He focuses on the rusty red ones. Lara's voice draws him back to the -real- problem.

After another moment of agonized hesitation, he snaps his fingers on one hand, the other going to his waistcoat. Pulling a primarily decorative watchchain and the shiny silver pocket watch at its end from it, he flicks the cover open. He grins a tad desperately, then carefully, slowly, painstakingly extends his the timepiece over a criss-crossing lattice of beams...

Lara's communicator is obviously broken, so no one can hear what she's up to. So she doesn't know if Indiana's alive or dead. As for Indy, well...the air is getting heavy. He catches the light with the pocket watch, and well, someone must be smiling on him, because it creates a small path through the lasers...but the laser focused on the pocket watch will burn through it eventually. And there's still picking out which nail it is, and getting it out of the glass case.

Seishi stops at the end of her hall and peeks warily around the corner, pressed up against the wall as though she were trying to blend, chameleon-like, with the paneling. She doesn't understand Hindi any better now than she did earlier in the party proper, but the woman's attitude is enough to convey that the gig is up.

Pulling away from the wall, Seishi backs up into the passage she just came down, retracing her own steps for several yards. Running space. When she's got what she hopes is enough room, she leaps forward in an all-out sprint, building up as much speed as she can. This had better work--

At the end of the hall Seishi curves sideways and springs. Her leap carries her up into the shadows of the high ceiling, and slippered feet pat quietly along the top of the wall as Sei's momentum carries her along, running sideways across the wall in outright laughing defiance of gravity. By the time the earth's pull begins to reassert itself, she's closed the distance between herself and the bikini-clad woman, and drops down on her from above in a flying kick.

A large blue ball, diameter such that it can easily move along the vent, glows faintly as it streaks along the passageways. Barbara pauses as she rounds a corner and comes upon a system of pumps. A moment or two of thought, and then the blue ball divides in half. One of the now-reduced blue balls--no dirty puns, please--takes another passage and skims along.

The pumps for the ventilation seem slick and shiny, like new...and they're not moving at all. The other glowing orb continues down the hallway, seeming the soft haze of red laser glow in the grate ahead.

Indiana lowers the watch from the laser beams with a quick motion, jerking his hand back to safety. Nodding to himself as if proving a theory, he clenches the timepiece in his fist and then smashes said fist into the glass of the display case.

The case cracks with smashing sound, some of the shards cutting into Indiana's hand, the rest scattering inside the case. And thus, the eight nails are exposed, the two rusty ones seeming to gain the most attention from the now bleeding archaeologist. This is the site that greets Whisper when she reaches the grate.

The woman lets out a cry of surprise and instinctively twists away from Seishi with a fluid and swift motion, taking the kick squarely between her shoulders instead of right under the chin as Seishi intended. Her radio is flung out of her outstretched hand. She's knocked down by the power of the blow but rolls back up to the balls of her feet like a wave cresting on the shore, sweeping a hand around, palm flat, fingers together, to chop viciously at Seishi's neck, her elbows lifting in preparation to receive Seishi's counterattack. Clearly she's been well-trained. Holmes and Kate reach the hallway at just about the same time as the two men, one with the gun and the other without. All four of them gape slightly at the sudden battle that's erupted between the black-clad Seishi and the houri that previously led off Indy. The two of them move to assist the houri, but something out of the corner of his eye catches the Asian man's attention and he whirls around to face Holmes and Kate, a throwing knife in his hand. "Shit!" he says in Mandarin, then continues in Hindi, "How many of them /are/ there?" He hurls the knife at Kate with a deadly accuracy and tremendous power, and there's another in his hand even as he steps back. The man with the silenced pistol whirls around and is momentarily overcome with the multiplicity of targets, hesitating. Holmes, for his part, is charging for the hallway that the two men just came out of, the moonlight angling across his lanky body vertiginously as he bolts. It is clear from his expression that he considers the presence of the man with the gun right where he's trying to go an unfortunate circumstance, in the same class as a clogged toilet or a bad bit of beef.

Yes, this was the reason that the ever-inventive Kate brought cooking gear with her. She throws up an arm holding the cast-iron skillet, knocking it out of the air right at the level of her chest with a loud *CLONK* sound. <Too many for you to handle, you jerk!> Yes, a reply in Mandarin. The girl's got to use what little language skill she has, around all these other polyglots.

Whisper's disparate parts join together somewhere in the pipes and it's five large blue streams that shoot out of the vent, then across the room to wrap around Indy like fancy birthday ribbons. Wheee! One slips around his ears, and a very, very quiet female voice asks, "If I get you past the lasers, can you open the door?"

More bangs on the door. They sound a little desperate.

Indiana grimaces through the bloodying of his hand, looking between the two rusty examples of Judean ironworking. Textbook entries flash through his mind. The villages Ai and Raddana. Crucible smelting techniques. Carburized iron found in the extensive traces of smithies in Megiddo. They flake black on red, orangish red. The Philistines methods didn't flake as much, but the metal grew softer much faster. Surface pockmarks.

It takes a few seconds. It comes down to color and sheen. He grabs one.

At the eerie, displaced voice, he shakes his head, face red, mouth clenched taut. He jerks his head toward the door as to indicate he's ready to move there and try just about anything. Maybe even ask Lara's help.

Seishi twists lithely out of the houri's range, freeing the length of fabric that was formerly her waitress' wrapped skirt from around her waist. The length of it flows and ripples between her hands, and she grasps it vaguely garrote-style as she springs towards the woman. The next few seconds pass in a fast-paced and highly kinetic dance of strikes, blocks, and evasions, with Seishi using the fabric alternately as a flexible sort of shield and as a means of distracting and confusing her opponent's eye. When the houri comes at Seishi with a staccato two-handed attack, Sei slips aside and snares the woman's arms in the fabric, then snaps a leg up to drive her knee into the houri's unprotected midsection.

Lara continues to fiddle with the controls...and lo, the steel slab moves! It's only an inch, a scant inch...but it's enough to make a difference. There's a loud hiss as air starts to filter into the large hall...but very, very slowly.

The woman's breath WHOOSHes out of her - Seishi was aided at the last moment by a distraction as the fight proceeded up the corridor - something behind her caught the houri's eye, where the hallway widened out into a larger room with several doors. The Asian man hurls another throwing knife at Kate, then comes at her with one that looks rather too serrated to be considered proper for throwing, swiping it through the air before him with skill and speed. The man with the pistol decides, and fires at Holmes, the gun coughing twice, but it's too late - Holmes sweeps past him and somehow manages to send the man arcing backwards through the air to CRASH down to the ground, hard. But he's not out. He reaches for where his gun fell and curses (in English). "Dammit!!", slowly staggering to his feet and making as if to fire at the fleeing Holmes, oblivious to the danger, it seems, is already running away from the man back up the hall towards the security room. Over the radio he says..."I could use some assistance. Depending on the kind of safe, it may take me some time to open to find the necessary codes to free Dr. Jones...whenever you can, ladies." Naturally, being from the 19th century, he doesn't have to resist calling them 'angels'.

The mist slowly spreads out until it wraps Indy in a blue-glowing cloud. Rather unnerving, really. It's fairly condensed, too. "Run," she suggests. "Now."

It's not the US Open, but Kate's backhand with the skillet is quite passable, knocking the throwing knife aside with a glancing blow and then bringing the iron pan firmly down on the Chinese attacker's head. 'Xie xie' <Sorry!> she whispers, and twists around, kicking the knife-wielder hard in the back of the knees to bring him to the ground faster.

Indiana runs, as directed, his uneasiness over the 'presence' around him overcome by his powerful survival instinct. He reaches the door as it starts to crack open, pushing his face close to it. He pulls his already loosened tie free of his collar, inhaling big, relieved gasps of air, not at all unlike a cliff diver returning to the surface. He winds the tie around the bloody hand grasping the Nail, smiling a tight, humorless grin at what he can see of Lara through the door. "Glad you could make it," he pants.

...what he can see of her is more or less, her knees - she's on them, and the bright crimson stain that has soaked through her bright yellow sari. But her voice is firm and calm as she replies, "I don't like to leave a man waiting." For Seishi, should she have an opportunity to espy Lara, she seems distinctly out of sorts. Her hair has been ripped from its lovely coiffure, hanging around her in disarray, and a big purple bruise is blossoming along one of those ever so elegant cheekbones. Her sari has been ripped, and she's tied it off to keep it from falling off - and it's positively covered in blood, from the ribcage down. She continues working on the keypad with one hand, the other keeping a gun cocked at the ready.

Seishi draws inward for half a heartbeat, centering herself before giving a mighty heave and sending the woman flying over her head on a trajectory that'll send her slamming into the gunman. A quick glance toward Kate shows the other man handily taken care of, so her attention snaps back towards the houri and the gunman--And now, for my next trick...

The gunman just is not having a good day today. (Neither is his friend, the Asian man with a knife who managed to ward off Kate's blow partly but now has a nasty gash across the top of his head and staggers a little.) The gunman's aim is completely spoiled by the battered and bruised woman in a state of undress FLUMFing on top of him. He pushes her away angrily (she staggers on her feet, clearly not quite ready to be there) and now definitely takes aim at Seishi, snarling with anger. This, however, puts his back to Kate. Holmes himself darts inside the security office. His voice comes over the communicator. "What's the number over the door controls? On the outside?" he asks. "Can someone check?" Other footsteps start to approach the area, perhaps other security guards?

Lara can't hear Holmes - her comm is obviously long since destroyed. So she continues to work at them rather desperately. Another little inch, but still not enough to get the door high enough for Indy to get through. And now, the fight in the corridor adds to her distraction, Seishi and her opponent moving simply too fast for her to fire off a shot.

Indiana keeps a death grip on the Nail as he squints through the doorway. "Lara," he says, through inhalations. "The number. Over the panel. What is it?"

Kate had managed step past the Chinese knifeman as she hit and kicked at him, and so she quickly decides that her best strategy is to continue away from him while he's slightly dazed, and take a quick running step towards the gunman who's facing towards Seishi. She brings the pan up over her head, held with both hands so that she can bring it right down on top of the gunman's head with all of her strength. *WHAM!!*

<OOC> Lara says "Cast Iron Kate! That's her super hero name!"

<OOC> Kate facepalms.

Whisper leaves Indy as the lasers fall behind him, wafting through the door and out toward Lara. It's just mist, don't be alarmed or anything.

Lara peers at the code, "Seven four six nine three." she reports. "I can't get it to budge anymore..." she curses in a most unladylike manner.

Indiana relays the numbers to Holmes, licking his lips. "Seven four six nine three, Sherlock. Get this son of a bitch opened and we can get the Hell out of here."

Seishi tosses the once-skirt over her arm and yanks something from her belt--her tessen. A powerful throw sends the folded bar of metal and lacquer spinning through the air towards the Asian man's head.

CRACK. CRACK. Both the gunman and the knife-wielding man are struck squarely in the head by frying pan and tessen. Both waver and slump to the ground immediately. The houri runs, calling out, "This way! This way!" in Hindi to the guards approaching down another hall. (Even those without Hindi can get the gist.) Over the communicator, Holmes says., "Yes, thank you...mmm..." Then to himself, absently, he's not used to being on a mike all the time. "Safe's a Maerinkov 1985-8-R-L....nine cylinder...mmm...." About thirty seconds of silence, then a clunk. "It's open. Here's the book. Aha. Here is the code for the door. One. Seven. Nine. L. Two. Six. Eight. Four. Seven. Nine. B. B." He waits about five seconds for the code to be punched in, and then says, "All right, there's only a few minutes before the magnesium incendiary devices go off. Head for the southeast hall. We'll go out the doors there and over the wall to the van." Oh, /thanks/ for telling us the plan in /advance/.

Lara punches the code in, and the slab lifts up completely, freeing Indy! As he appears, she removes another gun from somewhere on her person (Do you /really/ want to know?) and calmly tosses it to him. "Safety's on, fully loaded." she tells him crisply.

Even as the gunman is halfway to the floor, Kate is dashing around him, heading towards Seishi and aiming in the direction that the guards can be heard approaching in. "Seishi! Let's go!" She calls breathlessly.

Whisper whips out the door in mist form and follows Kate wherever she's going. She's mist. Looks weird, but she can't get shot.

Indiana rolls out from under the door as the door hisses upwards. He stands, jacket a mess, hair awry, but his face strangely composed and his jaw set. Catching the gun in his left hand, he glances around briskly, trying to get his bearings relative to the Great Detective's instructions. "C'mon," he says. "I think our invitation's been revoked."

He bolts down the hallway, dress shoes adding to the cacophony of footfalls all around.

Lara doesn't have to be told twice, she picks up the hem of her sari and books.

Seishi's hands go to her belt again, this time coming up with a cigarette lighter--borrowed from Holmes for the occasion--and a handful of what look for all the world like multicolored cherry bombs, or perhaps Tootsie Roll Pops. "Got it," she tells Kate in a crisp tone, snapping the lighter to life and touching the flame to the fuses in her other hand. As the security personnel come into view, she flings the handful at them, the little colored orbs skittering across the floor in front of them--and, after a brief pause, releasing great clouds of thick colored smoke, green and blue and purple and white.

But Seishi isn't done yet. Going for her belt again, she comes up with another, bulkier handful, brightly colored paper and cardboard, vague star shapes. These, too, she lights and throws, scattering them into the smoke with a flick of her wrist, a bit like throwing stars, but those aren't shuriken. A second's delay, and the smoke is suddenly alight with brilliant flashes of colored light, whirling trails of sparks and a chorus of unearthly screams, as the set of spinner fireworks go off.

The result is chaos, the security men shouting and milling about in alarmed confusion, their figures occasionally silhouetted in the colored smoke by the miniature fireballs the spinners are spitting out. Seishi grins fiercely and seizes Kate's arm. "Let's go!" she commands, even as she starts running. On the way past the downed Asian, she leans to scoop up her tessen without breaking stride.

Holmes is also legging it for the exit - which, of course, is locked and extremely sturdy. Holmes just leans on it casually. At just about the time the security guards are being staggered by the fireworks, a red light starts to flash and an alarm starts to go off. Surely this doesn't help the guards, who are absolutely panicked.....and the exit door dutifully unlocks itself. "Five minutes." an automated voice says. Outside the gardens are fragrant and humid and the night is clear and warm.

Whisper pauses for just a second to watch the fireworks, and a very faint giggle can be heard before the mist streaks it for the outdoors.

Indiana calls out in a hoarse voice "Jack!" as he runs out of Balaton's palatial estate, shouldering through the exit door. He makes tracks for the waiting van. He glances over a shoulder for a second as he hears the sounds of chaos within, grinning a vicious grin, then goes to the sliding panel door to get in.

She's running away from a morass of multi-colored smoke clouds, sparks-spitting cherrybombs and really confused well-armed men. With Seishi. Kate bolts into the fray. One hand ready with the oh-so-handy skillet, the other drawing out a length of cord with a ratchet-hooked loop at the end of it.

As the Tomb Raider makes her own dive for the van, she notices a slim figure slipping out from the shadows, his Sikh’s garb removed. She makes a mental note to tell Kate and the others that Jack got out intact. No doubt he'll rendez-vouz with everyone at the hotel.

Indiana drops the gun onto the passenger's seat as he swings into the vehicle. Gingerly, he sets the Nail down in a convenient case, locking the latches with a twist. He looks out to wave Seishi and Kate and Holmes on. He then casts a jaunty wave. "Thanks, Mr. Balaton."

"Balaton," says Lara quietly, "Is dead."

Kate piles into the van with Seishi...and that's the lot! Whoever's in the driver's seat can put the hammer down and get us out of here.

Indiana eyes Lara wordlessly for a second, then hits the accelerator.

<And the successful heroes return to their hotel.>

Lara managed to get back into the hotel, shower, and change her clothes with little fuss. Now she's sitting in her room, cleaning her guns with fierce concentration.

A knock sounds at the door, vaguely hesitant.

Lara pauses. "Yes?"

"Can I come in?" Seishi's voice.

Lara rises and locks the guns away. "Of course." she says. "The door is open."

Seishi opens the door and steps in, a little cautious despite the invitation. She, too, has taken the time to change clothes, and is thus in her pajamas--a black Ninja Burger teeshirt and Black Watch plaid boxers. She regards Lara carefully, concernedly assessing. "Hey."

Lara is in much the same - a tee shirt and a pair of boxers. The purple of the bruise shines nastily on her cheek. "Hey," she replies in a forcibly cheerful tone. "What brings you by?"

Seishi shrugs, replying rather casually, "I just wanted to see if you were all right. You looked a little the worse for wear back there."

Lara waves a hand dismissively, "I'm quite alright." she says. "The blood was someone else's."

Seishi mms, expression dimming a little. "I expect he deserved it. I'm glad you're not hurt, then." She wrinkles her nose. "That was awfully messy."

Lara shakes her head. "It was an accident, actually," she says. "We were struggling, and the gun went off. I was quite fortunate."

Holmes knocks politely on the door, having given the girls a few moments to get comfortable.

Lara remarks, "It's Holmes. Let him in, would you?"

Seishi inclines her head briefly. "He still deserved it." Not going to be shedding any tears for Balaton, is Seishi. She moves to open the door for Holmes. "Hi."

Holmes has a tray of hot tea which he must have gotten from room service. Three cups, Earl Grey, the good stuff. "Good evening." he says politely. "Might I offer..."

Lara says dryly, "I hope Dr. Jones isn't too terribly disappointed he didn't get to do it himself. Hullo, Holmes. Do come in, thank you for the tea."

"I'm sure Indy will survive," Seishi tells Lara wryly over her shoulder, stepping back out of the way so that Holmes can bring the tea in. She closes the door behind him.

Lara gingerly fingers the bruise on her cheek, and requests, "Holmes, would you be so kind as to pour?" as he sets it down.

Holmes pours the tea. "Of course." he says, and sighs a little, flinging himself down into an armchair. "I do wish I'd had more time to study the house. There might have been fewer surprises."

Seishi pads over to claim one of the cups of tea and settles down cross-legged on the floor. "We didn't do all that badly, I guess," she muses. A pause, and then she has to add, in a faintly dry tone: "But was blowing the place up really necessary?"

Lara nods. "Possibly. And it's a shame that all those other artifacts he had were sacrificed." she shakes her head. "We didn't do it. The palace's security systems were rigged that way."

Holmes nods painfully, "It didn't become clear until I was actually at the console. Modern security systems are not...yet my forte." Despite being able to crack the safe, surmise the layout and so forth. He cradles his teacup in his long-fingered hands.

Seishi sighs, resigned, and turns her attention to her tea. Earl Grey is not especially her favorite, but that's what happens when you're outnumbered by the English. Anyhow, it's not bad.

Holmes says "But we have the nail, and with it in our hands, the world is safe. And perhaps Simon's soul as well."

Holmes sounds at least a little mischievous when he says the latter.

Lara chuckles in amusement. "I've never worried about the state of Simon's soul. For a thief, he's exceptionally good hearted."

Seishi grins lopsidedly over her cup. "I doubt his soul's in any more danger than any of ours. We /do/ have it, then? I was, um, a little busy there."

Holmes nods. "Dr. Jones has possession of it. I believe he is studying it even now."

Lara adds, "And I have the Gem. So we should be destroying it shortly."

Seishi ahs quietly. "Well," is all she can really say. "Good."

Holmes nods slightly. "The last thing this world needs is another evil being of unimaginable power."

Seishi remarks dryly, "It's got enough of those already."

Lara sips her tea, staying quiet.

Seishi is reminded, presently, to reach into a pocket and produce the borrowed cigarette lighter. "I suppose you'll want this back."

Holmes says easily, "Ah, yes, thank you very much. I hope it was useful to you?" He tucks it away in his vest-pocket.

Seishi gives a small laugh. "Oh, yes. Very much so." That little stunt, at least, she's rather proud of. "Thank you for the loan."

Holmes says, "I thought I heard some fireworks in the back. That must have been you."

Seishi nods good-naturedly. "They slowed the security men down very nicely."

Holmes smiles. "Excellent. I am glad we did not have to deal with any more of them. They were /quite/ well trained."

Seishi absently rub a hand over a spot on her shoulder when the houri managed to land a blow. "Don't remind me." She makes a face.

Holmes says, "You are not injured, are you?" and it really is a question. Perhaps that's a compliment, that she can hide injuries from him well enough to make him ask.

Seishi smiles a little. "No, I'm fine. I refuse to be beaten up by a nearly-naked dancing girl; it'd hurt my pride too much."

Holmes chuckles. "Good. I believe she managed to surprise Dr. Jones, however."

Seishi nods. "I caught that. He could," her voice goes rather dry, "have been a little more careful."

Holmes says, "I am sure he was distracted by the priceless artifacts on display."

Holmes is dead-on serious. Don't say he doesn't have a sense of humor.

Seishi murmurs, deadpan, "I'm sure that wasn't all he was distracted by."

Holmes says easily, sipping his tea. "You are likely correct."