Beacon Harbor Private Airport

This airport is far less grand than the International Airport some miles away; compared with that bustling, sprawling locale, this smaller airstrip seems rather rural and peaceful. Smaller, private aircraft and cargo planes come in to land upon a flat stretch outlined with blue lights, amidst the rolling, grassy hills of the region. There is a long, one-story building that serves as the offices of the establishment, and a four-story control tower topped with a swiveling searchlight radios to the pilots to help guide them in.
Off to one side of the landing strip are the aircraft hangars, set up to provide repairs and storage. A couple of Cessnas and Pipers are parked off to one side of these buildings.


The Lucky Lady
Parked in a corner of the hangar is a white Landry Sparhawk 463...a bit larger than a Cessna, but still an easily maneuverable propeller-engine craft. There's a side-loading door on the body of the plane, and two cockpit doors. It looks like it's seen some good use, but it's kept in excellent repair by its owner, Kate Walsh.
On the pilot's side of the plane is a painting of a Vargas-styled brunette wearing black hotpants and a poet's blouse (dipping forward enough in front to give a hint of cleavage). She smiles slyly from one side of the plane, laying upon her front with her shapely legs crossed behind her. She appears to be rolling a pair of dice. The scrollwork writing underneath the Vargas girl reads, "Lucky Lady".


You now know where the Lucky Lady is parked in the hangar, and yep...there's Kate right there, checking off things on a clipboard, with one of the metal hoods up.

Lara enters, this time with an actual suitcase that she puts in the cargo area. "Hullo, Kate." she says cheerfully. "How's Lucky Lady looking?"


<Lara>
Slightly taller then average height, this woman carries herself with an air of unflappable confidence. Her long brown hair has been braided and tied off at the small of her back, swinging slightly when she moves. A few strands have splayed loose at her hairline, framing her face. Her eyes, also brown, gaze out from under elegantly arched brows. A pair of round-eyed sunglasses perch on her nose, giving her a somewhat inquisitive look. Her features are not particularly exotic, but classic in their beauty, accented by surprisingly lush lips and a slightly stubborn jaw, tempering her expression with determination. When she speaks, her upper-class British accent is surprisingly pleasant to the ear.
She wears a black t-shirt that hugs her form, cinched at her waist by a thick leather belt with a wide buckle. A pair of dark leather pants cling to her legs, ending in a pair of sturdy hiking boots. Over this she wears a long trench-like coat with a double breasted neckline and flared coat-tails, sometimes making her silhouette hard to determine. Her hands are covered in fingerless black gloves, a black backpack slung over her shoulder casually. Her only ornamentation is a black velvet choker around her neck, and a pair of designer sunglasses perched on her nose.


Indiana saunters into the hangar, his abused looking traveling valise in one hand. He walks to the shadow of the trusty cargo plane, smiling a relaxed smile. "Hey there, Cap'n." He eyes the plane, commenting to Lara. "Better than the last time I flew on her..."


<Indiana>
Standing a little over 6' and possessing a fit and trim build, this man appears to be in his mid to late 30's. He has tanned, ruggedly handsome features with light blue eyes and sandy brown hair, neatly combed. A small scar lines his jaw.
He's currently dressed in a crisp navy blue double-breasted suit. A black tie and white dress shirt are worn under the jacket, and he has a pair of slightly baggy pleated slacks belted at the waist with a black leather belt. On his feet are a pair of patent leather shoes.
Out of doors, he sports a brown fedora with a dark brown hatband, front brim worn low.


Kate looks up from what she was doing, and grins, smiling to the familiar faces. "Wonderfully well. She's been flying like a dream recently, now that all the new parts are in her and are 'broken in', so to speak. And of course we're all fueled, flight plans done..."


<Kate>
"...You are call'd plain Kate, and bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst; but Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom, Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate..." <Taming of the Shrew, II.i>
To those who have gotten to know her, Kate Walsh fits this allusion quite aptly -- in her grubby mechanics' clothes she might well look rather plain, but when she is cleaned up, and her dark curling hair frames her sweet round face, she is truly bonny. And no one could argue with her being 'dainty', seeing as she stands only a few inches higher than five feet tall. It is her eyes, though, that catch the glance best. A deep brown and slightly almond shaped, they are all at once curious and intelligent and sympathetic, changing in their facets as her mood goes. There's an unconscious, flexible grace when she moves, like a cat's naturally lithe manner.
Kate has pinned up her long hair in a set of braids that cross over the top of her head to keep the tresses out of her way. She wears a khaki aviator's jumpsuit, and although the outfit is clearly a comfortable and practical one, it endows her with a sense of panache. An embroidered patch of gold wings has been sewn over her right breast pocket, and the back of the jumpsuit features the 'Vargas girl' logo painted on the outside of Kate's plane, the "Lucky Lady." On her feet are a pair of sturdy, rugged boots, and periodically she toys with a silver falcon pendant hanging around her neck.


Jack noses out from the cargo area of the plane, having already stowed his own gear. "Hello, Croft, Jones. Ready to go?"


<Jack>
His face possesses that overbred sculpting generally only found in the lineage of old nobility: refined almost to the point of absurdity. Almost pretty more than handsome - this ivory-skinned young man's features are delicate and androgynous, though with enough strength of bone and line to keep him from looking entirely effeminate. A fairly new, and still livid scar slashes up from the inner corner of one brow, giving him a permanently quizzical expression. The large eyes are a strange shade of blue, like shadows on glacier ice, set deep under finely drawn brows; the beginnings of crows'-feet etch their corners, if their owner had spent a good deal of time squinting off into the far distance. His nose is long, thin, and slightly arched, almost beakish; his cheekbones are high, with hollows underneath that give him an air of perpetual starvation. Under a thin, mobile mouth, a stubborn jaw ends in a pointed chin. Since he's no longer under the blazing Indian sun that originally bleached his hair to tow, at its roots it's started to revert to its true deep honey color, and reaches to his shoulders.
Six foot two, and thin as a rail. He'd appear frail if it weren't for the muscled shoulders and narrow waist. He moves languidly, as if lacking energy, though he gives the impression of being quick enough when need be. Only the long, delicate-looking hands, with their calluses from rein and whip, are never still. If one looks closely at the slender wrists, a band of silvery white scar tissue is apparent.
So much for the carefully tailored suits - he's given them up for the moment, though the glossy riding boots remain. Instead, he wears a plain heather grey t-shirt, indigo jeans, and a black leather motorcycle jacket. His hair is bound back into a short queue, and the golden shield ring is noticeably absent from his finger.


Lara smiles. "So we've only to wait for - ahh, Celliers. We've nothing to wait for at all." She walks around the side, hauling herself into the body of the plane. "At your leisure, Kate."

Indiana tosses his valise to Jack. "Born ready. Catch."

Kate closes the open engine hood and crawls in through the cargo door to help strap Indy's luggage in...once Jack hands it to her.

Indiana idly stops to kick a tire before entering. He mutters a silent prayer that his status as a walking navigation hazard doesn't deter the planned escapade. This accomplished, he hunches into the back of the plane and finds himself a seat.

Jack helps Kate stow the luggage, before clambering into the seat beside the pilot's.

Kate waits for Lara to step inside, then gives the cargo door a good shove closed. She checks the locks, then moves forward to hop into the cockpit next to Jack. "Okay, you guys know the drill. Seat harnesses on, everything stowed, yadda yadda...I'll let you know when we can relax. We're off!"

It's a long trip, to be sure. Kate flies the Lady down the coat, briefly picks up some more fuel and then...it's off across the Atlantic, touching down after 2000+ miles in the Azores Islands. More fuel, a chance to stretch legs, and then off again, this time heading towards Eastern Europe.

Hungary, and then later Romania, is old and beautiful, and yet decaying in irony and apathy. There cities are barely cities at all, the amenities are less then Lara is accustomed to (though she's used to it in such places), just what Indy would consider comfortable, and Jack would find it outright advanced.

Jack is whiteknuckling it, the entire ride, and doesn't do a very good job of hiding his relief, as the plane safely touches down.

Kate looks over at Jack, once we're on the ground again. "Now...that wasn't too choppy a landing at all. I confess, it did get a little rough in the mid-Atlantic. But compared to the Mexico trip, it was a piece of cake." She looks back. "Okay, who speaks Hungarian or Slav or wherever we are? I'm glad we had enough fuel to stay up while they found a controller who had some English at all."

Jack looks back hopefully at Indiana and Lara. "Any of you? I've only got Russian..."

Indiana tugs on his jacket, bending his head a little to look out of a port window. "Well," he says, "My Magyar's not too hot, but I figure all we'll need is a few directions. Then Lara and me get to see how well we boned up on Romani." He drags out his old khaki satchel and ducks his head through the loop. Pointing towards distant mountains, he says "Carpathian Mountains. Best bet are the forests around there; there's a town called Ozd by
their base I figure we can start asking around for local camps."

Kate hands a sheet to Indiana. "Holmes wrote out these phrases that we'll need to get the plane safely stowed. Can you and Jack briefly trade spots, so you can come up here and use the radio with me?"

The sheet Kate hands Indy contains questions about what hangar she should park in, etc. There's also some phrases for negotiating the price of keeping the plane there for however long the group plans to be in the area.

Lara seems content to stay in the back for a moment, she's cleaning her guns.

Jack obediently scrambles back, to let Indy take his seat.

Indiana takes the sheet, turns it right side up, then nods. "Sure," He moves forward to the cockpit, fedora held in his left hand, the cheat sheet in his right. Sitting in the co-pilot's chair, he grabs the receiver starts speaking the Hungarian phrases; his speech is somewhat broken up, but his accent seems to be spot on. He begins bartering with a controller for hangar space and rates, then lowers the receiver. "Forgot how much these guys like haggling..."

Kate grins. "We got a place?"

Jack quotes idly to himself, sotto voce, "I was indeed awake, and among the Carpathians."

Lara seems content to wait patiently until landing, and from there she says, "It shouldn't take long to find a guide. Any number of Rom urchins can be found. We just need to make sure he doesn't try to scam us."

Indiana nods. "We got any extra pairs of Levis?" he asks, hanging up the receiver.

Kate blinks. "Well...I've got a pair I could sacrifice." She twists, looking back at Jack and Lara. "What about you guys?"

Jack blinks at Indiana. "The canvas trousers? I've a few pairs in my luggage."

Indiana nods to Jack and Kate. "Good. Didn't want the guy to find out I was lying."

Lara says blithely, "I don't wear denim often." Of course she doesn't.

Kate rolls her eyes. "We're leaving my plane here. We'd better not lie to him." She taxis the plane to the location that Indy indicates to her, then shuts down the engines and pops the lock to the cargo door. "We're here, kids."

Indiana smiles languidly. "He was asking for satin undies, Lara, but I'm too much of a gentleman to ask..." Smiling crookedly at his own witticism, such as it is, he walks down the short ramp out.

Jack gives Indiana a *look*. No, he doesn't want to know. Thank you.

Lara rolls her eyes, and steps out next. She doesn't even deign to reply.

The airport workers are there, and seem a bit confused until Kate has an opportunity to take them in hand. There's little more to the airport then a tower, a strip, and a large warehouse-cum-hangar. And of course, past the gate, are the expected crowd of urchins and lackadays, spending their time eyeing the new arrivals.

Kate looks around at the other planes in this part of the port...it seems that they were indeed directed to a storage/parking area, since a lot of these have tarps of different colors draped over them. Kate gets out her own covering tarpaulin, and with the help of Jack and Lara, drapes it over the Lucky Lady. She's leaving Indy to deal with the approaching customs officials and the hangar manager.

Jack is watching the various little ones warily, though he winces at the occasionally understandable comment about his height.

Indiana moves off for a few moments, speaking in amiable if halting Magyar and mixed English with the airport and customs officials. Passports, money, and Levis are exchanged. "...Ksznm szves fradozst." he says, finishing the business. He then walks to catch up with the others.

Kate leans over and whispers something in amusement to Jack, as she finishes unloading what they'll be needing and then securing all the locks and the tarps.

Kate grins and murmurs to Jack, "My darling, I'm quite impressed. I handed over my trousers to Dr. Jones at his command, and you didn't even get the slightest bit jealous." She winks, and places the parking blocks under the landing gear.

Jack stifles laughter, though he looks faintly embarrassed. "But so did I, my dear," he teases.

Kate blushes herself, at that. "Why...so you did, indeed." And she wiggles her eyebrows at Jack, before turning to see what's going on now. "Well, I expect we've a lot of walking in store for us. So let's get our stuff And head out..."

Indiana regards the youths and riffraff walking the dirty streets outside of the remote airstrip. He says "Quick way to find out if there's any Roma kids here..." He takes out his wallet again, then passes a few bills to Jack, in plain sight of the street kids. "Here. Hold onto this for me."

Lara shoulders her back, and upon reflection, and notes to Jack and Kate, "They've probably an inn up the road, but it'll be quite a hike." she grins. "And we can't exactly take a taxi."

Jack nods, as he picks up his own luggage, as well.. before giving Indiana a look. "Ah, alright."

Indiana stuffs his wallet into a back pocket, then rolls a shoulder, looking up at the expanse of wilderness and Gothic mountain peaks past the ramshackle buildings. "Yeah, let's go."

Lara starts to head toward the gate, suitcase in hand. She doesn't ask anyone to carry it for her, and naturally, no one would offer.

Jack notes, very softly, "Jones, you're intending to lose that wallet, I assume?"

Indiana nods quietly. "Bait for the hook," he mutters.

Jack nods, as he tucks the bills carefully away in his own shirt.

Kate follows along closely, restraining the natural tendency to gawk at her surroundings in favor of a more nonchalant attitude.

A young boy, who can't be more than 10 runs towards the group, falling alongside Lara and reaching for her suitcase without asking. "Carry it for you? 20 dollars?" Round bright eyes stare out of a dirty face, putting on his best look for the tourists. The observant may note the little girl that was with him minutes ago seems to have gone.

Lara looks at the boy, <You'll carry it for $10. And you /won't/ steal any of what's inside, or I'll flay the skin off your back. And if your sister is spotting marks for you, tell her to stop.>

Jack stands protectively near Kate, looking equally uncertain.

Indiana looks down at the boy with an expression of amusement, then idly turns his head to glance behind himself, wary of any small hands reaching for his back pocket.

<Fifteen>, the little boy says with a wide grin, tugging on the suitcase urgently. <Sister?> That would be her, standing behind Indiana with her hands clasped behind her back, and giving him the widest eyes she can manage. The girl looks to be about 8 years old.

Kate only barely understood the English the little boy said with that heavy accent of his, and Lara's reply is essentially Greek to her. But she understands the 'Look' that the urchin gets from Lady Croft. Inwardly Kate feels somewhat relieved that luggage has a security strap around it, in addition to the locks she put on the bags.

Lara grins. <You know what I mean.> she says to the boy, and then asks After a moment, <Who is the leader of your camp? We need to speak to them. It's important.> What a pushy gaja!

Jack is following the spoken Rom, albeit very haltingly. He's grinning a bit.

Indiana smiles in spite of himself, admiring the children in their audacity if not their method. He then nods in affirmation after Lara's words, picking out enough to get the sense of it.

The boy looks confused but only for a moment. He stops tugging at the suitcase. <Ten dollars?> the boy offers, trying to change the subject.

Kate continues to walk, letting the others play out this gambit. She inwardly thinks to herself that it's a good thing it's not raining; she's heard that's common around this time of year in this part of the world.

<$10 dollars for carrying the suitcase, and another $10 if you can get the elder of the camp to come see us.> Lara confirms. <Or get them to allow us to come see them.>

Jack chuckles softly. "She dickers like a Moroccan rug merchant," he murmurs, admiringly.

Indiana looks to Lara, asking "See if you can get a name on the..." His eyes flicker to their right corners, and his hand clamps down on the leather wallet departing his pocket in the girl's nimble fingers. He grins a bit broader down at her, raising a finger in a tut-tutting motion. He keeps his eyes on the girl, continuing his earlier thought. "...a name on the tribe. See if they're the ones that Balaton had trouble with."

<I'll show you> the boy offers, and the girl does not look happy at Indiana. At least he didn't hit her. "Hundred dollars," he demands of the whole group.

Jack snorts at that. "Only if we get the Rom Baro."

Kate glances at Jack. "Ambitious sort, isn't he?"

Lara tsks at the boy. <<$20, for the suitcase and getting us an audience. And I won't tell them we caught you doing a sloppy job at ripping us off.>

<How you going to tell them without us?> the boy taunts, but glances at his sister. Pride gets the better of him. <20 dollars, no suitcase.>

Lara counters, <How are you going to get your $20, without -us-? Same offer stands. Or I'll find some other boy...maybe a Lowara who's got more brains then you to accept my offer.>

Indiana looks down at the girl as he takes his wallet back. He glances in it, mumbling something about inflation, then quietly places it inside of his jacket.

Jack is grinning like a fox, and keeping careful watch on his own luggage.

The young girl giggles at Lara, and the boy shoots her a look, and takes the suitcase. <Here, you carry it.> The little girl doesn't think much of her brother's order, and decides to fall in alongside Indy. She even tries for his hand, maybe she can charm some money. <Give me the money now then.>

Lara gives him $10. <The rest after we speak to your leader.>

Indiana takes the girl's hand with a slightly bemused half-smile, then says "So, Dale Carnegie's reached a settlement, looks like."

Lara remarks blithely, "Keep an eye on your wristwatch if you've got one, Indy."

Indiana says "Hey, maybe she just likes me. That's possible, right?" He refrains from making a poorly timed joke about women starting early at digging for gold.

Lara begins to walk, allowing the young boy to lead the way and keeping a sharp eye on her suitcase once she's advised Indy to watch his valuables.

The boy stays mostly silent as he leads them in a winding path, lugging the suitcase after him. As for the girl, she takes a look at the big hand she's holding, maybe he has a ring or watch or something.

The boy leads the way on the road for a while, but eventually he goes off the road, and leads them through trees. After a while, just as it starts to become too dark to see by and really chilly, flickering torches appear in the distance.

Jack doesn't look pleased, eyes darting warily around the area.

Indiana glances around with the casual attentiveness of an experienced explorer of dangerous places. Pushing a branch aside, he says "Bingo," as the torches come into view.

Kate mentally counts herself glad that she put on the leather bomber jacket instead of keeping it packed away. She ducks under the branches herself, stepping carefully towards the light.

Lara may or may not be worried. It's hard to tell. But the boy sets down her suitcase and rushes off deeper into the forest, in the direction of the torches. Silhouettes of covered wooden wagons can be seen against the flickering light, and there's the faint sounds and smells of cooking and chattering, barking dogs, and the general living of life.

Jack is reverting to his typical soldier's posture, as if his height would somehow protect him. He surveys the camp as if he owned it.

Indiana glances sidelong at Jack and Kate. He mutters sotto voce to them both, saying "Watch our backs. They don't take a shine to us, we may have to make tracks out of here pretty quickly." He then walks forward, moving toward the camp.

Kate nods her head. "Thanks for the reminder," she murmurs, and as far as you can tell, she means it.

Jack nods, still keeping himself close to Kate.. hovering like a mother hen.

Finally, the boy returns. "C'mon!" he says in English, and starts to make his way again. He leaves Lara's suitcase in the dirt; she doesn't seem to mind. Picking it up, she follows the boy.

Indiana glances at the wagons and campfires as he follows Lara and their youthful guide into the camp.

Kate and Jack bring up the rear, stepping into the firelight with their compatriots.

The camp is several wagons, a roaring fire, lots of people, and lots of dogs. There's shouts and glares, and eventually, a handful of men approach the group. An older one with a gold earring and a twirling pair of moustaches speaks for them. "You-a wanna see de baba?" he asks, eyeing them speculatively.

Indiana hooks his hands on his belt near the buckle in a relaxed posture, looking at the duo-mustached man. "Sastimos," he says, using the traditional greeting. "And, yeah, that's right. Got something to talk to him about. Something important."

Kate and Jack stand off to one side, keeping close hands on their possessions. Talk about 'gone in 60 seconds'...probably take a crafty kid half that time to make off with a bag in the dark.

The men laugh. "And why shoulda we take-a you to see our baba, eh?" the man counters, attention on Indiana.

Lara looks vaguely put out for being ignored, but keeps quiet and watches the interaction.

Indiana smiles slightly in reply to the laughter, then says "I come to respectfully tell of a amriya, a curse that is upon all the people of this land and the rest of the Rom. It's a curse laid upon all of mankind from the days after the Theft on Golgotha. The theft that I'm pretty sure you're all familiar with."

Well. /That/ makes them pause. "What do you know about that, gajo?" the man demands harshly. There's the click of safeties going off guns. Lara sets her suitcase down, and everyone seems to hold their breath for Indy's reply.

Kate stiffens, shrinking in instinctively against Jack, who steps very slightly in front of his fiancée'.

"The darane svatura told by your wisest storyteller may not have record of it, but there is an Evil spirit known among my people as 'Amarra'," Indiana says with a careful voice. "We ask your Baba's aid in putting this spirit's power to an end."

A whispered hush amongst the men, the words 'Amarra' and 'Acathla' most noticeable. Finally the man turns back. "What is your name?" he demands of Indiana, whom he takes for the leader of the group.

Kate sucks on her lip inwardly. False name...time for a false name, Indy...

"Dr. Henry Jones, Junior," Indy replies easily. "I also go by the name 'Indiana'."

Lara nods her approval, while the menfolk mutter. Then, "Ok. We take you to see the baba. When you come before the baba, you be respectful, and you don't say nothing unless the baba asks. You got it?"

Indiana nods. "Clear as crystal." He looks a little off to the side in the direction of Lara, then to the other at Jack and Kate. "Think my friends get it too."

Lara refrains from replying, she just gives him a cool nod. She falls in when the men turn and start walking back to camp.

Kate nods her head very quickly, while Jack contents himself with a single cool nod.

Indiana walks purposefully after them, lips slightly pursed as he regards the tribe in it's native environs, taking in snippets of this modern example of the Rom people of the region.

The group is led into the light - and it's a wonderful explosion of chaos despite everything. Life is happening in the camp. Old people sit around talking, women cook, young women sing and dance and flirt with young men, but are ever mindful of themselves. Children seem to be everywhere - a toddler meanders up to Kate and beams up at her, sticking his whole fist in his mouth.

Kate giggles in amusement in spite of her nervousness, tempted to offer the child the hair ribbon that's holding her locks out of her way. But on the other hand, she might be mobbed with kids if she did that, so she contents herself with grinning in a friendly manner back at the child.

The boy reappears to demand his payment of Lara, and she gives him the $10 bill without any grudge. As a few of the girls admire Indy and Jack from afar (Lara and Kate are similarly eyed) one of the men volunteers, "The baba wants to talk to you in there." he points to one of the wagons.

Indiana ducks his head in a nod, saying "Thanks." He then moves toward the wagon, being careful not to return the eye to any of the gypsy femmes fatale - who knows which one has an oversized brother, husband, or father.

Lara ducks into the vardo, earning a few whistles from some of the more brave young men as she disappears inside. The faint scent of incense wafts out of the darkness.

Kate and Jack follow the lead of Indy and Lara, slipping inside. Poor Jack has to duck his head...but he's used to that.

Indiana steps in, looking into the vardo's shadowy interior with a wary look to his eye.

Jack has remained pointedly silent...and kept his gaze away from any of the women, young or old. He straightens up as much as he can once within the vardo, though not without a wince.

The vardo is filled with colorful hangings...an almost stereotypical fortune teller's den. And sitting at the table in a well padded chair is an old woman with eyes that are whiter then they should be, her gaze the distracted direction of one who is blind. "You are all come to speak of Amarra," she says in a thick accent, as soon as they're all inside. How did she
know?

Indiana glances at the others, then runs his tongue over his lips before speaking. "Yeah, that's right. The Gem of Amarra, to be specific."

Jack nods curtly, but isn't about to elucidate further.

"It has awakened in this world." The baba says, her head turning to Lara, who struggles not to look guilty. "But it sleeps once more, though one can feel its breath, like a sleeping dragon. The dragon almost awoke once. We could feel it."

Kate quietly sets her case down on the floor, in some relief. There doesn't seem to be much more room in this structure for someone to come and steal it.

Indiana rubs his nose with his thumb, hand held briefly over his mouth. He lets the baba speak, formulating ways to ask the Gypsies nicely if he can borrow the Nail.

The baba continues, "All is quiet again. But still it breathes." her non-gaze turns sharply to Indiana. "What do you want of us?"

Indiana tilts his head downwards slightly, but his eyes meet the baba's Thousand Yard Stare. "The Nail. It's the key to destroying the dragon's link to this world."

"The Nail?!" The baba's voice raises. "Who are you, unworthy gajo, to demand The Nail?! How do we know that you - that any of you, are worthy enough to hold the sacred object in your hands?!"

Jack is at a loss on that one...he's hardly one to protest his own worthiness to do anything, let alone obtain a relic of the Crucifixion.

Kate pipes up uncertainly. "Might there be a test, O wise one?"

Indiana's teeth go on edge at Kate's question. He slowly looks back from her to the baba.

This seems to calm the baba down. She laughs. It's not pleasant. "Of course, gaja child. There is /always/ a test." She indicates Indiana, Lara, and Jack. "They know all about tests. Each one has passed one or another, in lifetimes before."

Jack has started to eye the old women askance, nostrils flaring like a nervous horse's at the unfamiliar scents in the vardo. It always has to get ugly, doesn't it - no one ever sends you the Grail by UPS with a nice note.

Kate widens her eyes, looking back at the others momentarily.

The gaja continues, "This one," she indicates Kate, "Her karma is fresh, unblemished. The rest of you.... if you wish to know the location of the Nail so that you might use it to destroy the dragon Amarra, you must pass an ordeal. All of you must pass the test. Even the untouched one."

Indiana furrows his brow a little, but doesn't argue. Even if this is just a fanciful carnie act, he's not going to debate the tribal leader.

Jack does roll his eyes at that. Wonderful. "How shall we go about the ordeal?"

The baba turns, and with swift motions brings out four teacups and a teapot. Like she already had it prepared. Like she knew they were coming. "The first part of the ordeal is always a nice cup of tea."

Kate now seems rapt with attention. What the woman appears to be saying is that she's never had any past lives, and the others have. Like a newly minted coin. Or otherwise...that Kate hasn't had a life in another world, since she's the only one present who hasn't been dumped out of a portal.

Indiana idly looks at the cuppa before him, then picks one up. He sniffs it experimentally, then shrugs and "Salut," before gulping down a bit of it. He coughs and wheezes slightly.

This Jack can deal with. "May we sit?" he asks, politely, before picking the teacup up primly.

"Of course." the baba replies, sounding amused. Lara follows her instructions, and then sits down before sipping her tea.

Kate takes up the final cup, blowing on the steaming liquid before taking a sip.

The baba seems to be waiting expectantly.

Jack sips patiently from the teacup, after pulling out a chair for Kate and then seating himself.

Indiana, Lara, Kate, Jack - in that order, they find themselves falling asleep, and drifting into dream.

The baba cackles. "Now," she says. "We shall see if they are worthy."



It is difficult to distinguish between waking and this, if this is indeed not waking. Amidst the wreck of a plane, within Tibet, Lara finds herself, though her current age and not the younger one that was first here. Nothing seems incongruous. Lara is there and that is simply the way it is.

Cobwebs line the dusty corridor that Henry Jr. finds himself wandering down, the torch in his hand casting flickering shadows over the walls on either side. If the glyphs upon the wall are to be believed, the First Cross is very near, very near indeed.

Lara looks around her, taking a very deep breath. Not here. Anywhere but /here/. I. Will Not. Panic. She puts her hands out, trying to see if she's pinned down, and knowing that outside it is very, very cold.

Indiana looks at the torch in his hand, feeling it's heat upon his face, flexing his fingers on its grip. He continues walking, the sensation of the find awaiting him creating a further murkiness in his mind as to the unreality of his present situation. He walks past the rows of glyphs, eyes looking to the floor and ceiling.

As for Jack and Kate, well...they're together, and yet not. They can watch what is happening to their respective party mates, and speak to each other too. A spiritual peanut gallery, if you will.

Freedom is just a few feet away, and the plane is mercifully dark, obscuring the bodies of the other former passengers. The hull of the plane has been twisted and torn, leaving a gap to the outside cold.

The hallway opens into a large, rectangular chamber, unlit torches lining the wall. In the far right corner, a light gleams, a lantern being held by another figure.

Jack watches, hovering in this strange version of NeverNeverland. "Can anyone hear me?" he wonders words falling flat.

Kate turns to Jack, her head feeling all muzzy. "Jack? Is that you, or do I just think it's you?"

Lara pulls herself out, unheeding of wetness on her cheeks, or more slick wetness on her arms and legs that must be blood. Just get out, you've done this before, no need to be afraid of being trapped and freezing and starving and helpless.

Jack whispers "It is me. What is this? What are we doing? Is this a dream?"

Indiana walks into the chamber, footsteps echoing hollowing in the dream realm. He squints in the dim refracted light of his torch and that of the other figure. His free hand moves rather intuitively to the holster at his hip, fingers touching the revolver's gunbutt. "Alright. Hold it," he says.

Kate murmurs, "I feel like I'm having an out-of-body experience. I think this is the test."

Everything is the same as before, or looks the same at least. The plane's broken hulk, the mountains, the snow, even the light is the same. Finding one's way to the monastery, if one can remember, shouldn't be too difficult. Jack's voice doesn't break through.

The other figure stands, as he had been crouching in front of something, and turns. Torchlight reflects off rounded spectacles, and grey eyebrows rise in surprise. "Junior!" Doctor Jones, the first, turns suddenly tense, interposing his body between Indiana and whatever is behind him. "You can't have it. /I/ found it."

Jack nods, commenting, "But it's only Croft and Jones, for a moment."

Lara remembers the way, she must remember the way. She staggers, falls, gets up again. She's not armed. She wasn't armed then either. Try not to think about the fact that you'll freeze to death. You didn't before. She follows her instincts, the direction she remembers the monastery was in.

Kate nods her head as well. "Like watching a simultaneous movie. And yet they don't seem to hear us."

Indiana blinks, twice. His features go from surprise to a smile to a slight scowl in the matter of a few seconds as he absorbs the scene and it's implications. "Dad," he says, lowly. "You wanna give me a hand here?" He takes his hand off of the gun, but moves to try and get past the elder Doctor.

How long is she walking? To those watching, it may appear to be only a few minutes. From Lara's side, it may feel more like the three days that the journey took the first time. The cold is biting and cutting, the light off the snow nearly blinding. It is difficult to tell if that dot in the distance that appears is the monastery. Surely it's in the right place.

Jack suggests, softly, "Call to Jones, and I'll try Lara. Perhaps they might be able to hear us?"

Henry Jones puts himself between Indy and the artifact again, though the object is visible now over the shorter man's shoulder. The first Christian cross, rumoured to hold great healing powers. "It's /mine/. You have no business here. That's is your way," the older man says, pointing to the left of where Indy entered. Anger laces his father's voice, as he practically growls.

Lara wipes at her eyes, her fingers frozen numb. "Should have found it by now." She sees the dot, walking toward it, trying not to collapse and just succumb. No. She won't give them the satisfaction. Whomever they are. Lara doesn't even know anymore. Walk, walk, walk.

It's the monetary all right, but the entrance is barred. Another familiar sight is there to greet the tomb raider, but one that definitely doesn't belong. Angelus is in front of the doors, and his sword is covered in blood. Without any evidence, the knowledge comes with certainty and ease. It is the blood of the monks, and no one inside still lives. Perhaps it is fortunate that somehow Lara has her weapons with her now.

Kate waves to Indiana. "Indy! Indy! Over here! Can you hear me? See me?"

Indiana looks somewhat fixatedly at the Cross behind Prof. Jones, being careful not to meet his father's gaze as he slowly speaks. "So that's it. The Cross from Golgotha, the wooden beams used to crucify Jesus Christ. What does the Nail matter? I get this thing, I won't need it. I'll have the other three..." He then turns his eyes, alight with anticipation. "So, why don't you take your superstition and your guilt and get the Hell out of my way."

Lara shakes her head. "No," she says. "You didn't. You're in Hell, you're not here, you're an illusion!" She pulls out her guns, arms wavering just a bit. She's so tired. So cold.

"You listen to me Junior," his father says, eyes alight with anger in a snarling voice. "I found it, not you. Research, not your moronic running about. Go!" he points towards the doors at the far side of the room. "Go out there where you can do some good!" The floor writhes in the darkness, and snow drifts through the cracks in the door.

Jack calls, urgently, "Lara. Lara!"

"What do you think this is?" Angelus asks, spreading his hands. "You haven't exactly been a very good girl," the vampire taunts. "But you can't beat me. And this...I love this, I love these ironic twists. I have to invite you inside, if you want to live. But," Angelus says, laying the flat of the blade across his shoulder. "I don't think I want to." Cold eyes fall upon Jack as he cries out Lara's name, and the whisper of a whisper reaches Lara's ears.

Lara says between gritted teeth, "If I shoot you in the head long enough to put you down and take your sword, you won't have a head long enough to deliver an invitation whether you want to or not." She pauses, head turning a fraction, distracted by some faint sound above the soft hiss of
falling snow.

Indiana raises a forearm to try and push the Scots scholar out of his path. "'Do some good'? This is a find of incredible importance. It's more important than either of us. And you can't stand to let me get at it first, is that it? Outta my way, dad."

Kate whispers, "He doesn't hear me, Jack. He's too busy arguing with his father, even if he could hear me."

"Maybe," Angelus is willing to admit. "Then you'd die too. Kind of romantic, we'll die together. Or maybe not." He holds up his other hand, showing the ring of Amarra sitting upon one finger. "I'm not here to kill you, Lara. I'm here to help."

"You followed me here, didn't you," Henry points an accusing finger in Indiana's face as he stumbles back. "Because you have to get all the glory, all the credit. You can't beat your father, but you can steal from him!" The door creaks open a bit more, letting in light and snow, and showing the serpents of all sizes and shapes that are slithering in front of the only exit.

Jack murmurs to Kate, "Her vision sees me. Somehow."

Lara looks like she doesn't believe him, but the cold and the hunger and the loss of blood are getting to her. "How are you going to help me? The only way you can help me is if you're dust."

Jack tries again, desperately. "Lara! I know you can hear me."

Kate looks to Jack. "What can we do, even if they do hear?"

Indiana clenches a fist, glowering back at his father as he gets the finger wagged in his face. "Shut up." He looks at the Cross, bathed in some unknown power, not a religious power in the strictest sense, an aura perhaps only he can see; the aura of fortune and glory. "I'm no thief. I'm a scientist. I'm...you..." Then he looks towards the snake laden floor by the exit, lip snarled back over his upper teeth. He then snaps his arm back in preparation of throwing a punch at his father.

"Just ask," Angelus says, swaggering down the stairs. "Better yet, beg me. Get down on your knees, and beg me to save your life. You aren't getting out of this one alone."

The door opens further. Light and snow blow in, and the room drops in temperature. Surprisingly, Indy's father doesn't get angry, he grows fearful and cowering. He looks suddenly so very, very old as he shrinks back from his son. "Indiana... Junior. Please don't." Through the doors, the dim
outlines of figures can be seen, one holding a sword. Kate's hopeful plea is carried with the wind.

Lara is tired, cold, and hungry. She's dizzy from blood loss, and doesn't even have the strength to keep her guns up. But she does manage to summon enough strength to spit in Angelus' face.

Indiana stares at his father as he shrinks back. His blue eyes lose their glaze and intensity, growing suddenly weary and tired. He then glances around, hearing a dim echo somewhere, the sounds of the conversation 'outside' of the chamber with the Cross. Lowering his fist, he rubs his face, and mutters "What the Hell was I....where am I?" He moves towards his father, speaking in a lower, calmer voice. "Dad...Dad...Didn't know what I was doing. I'm sorry."

Jack barks, in hopes that the tomb raider will somehow hear him - giving orders as if Lara were some unfortunate private in his regiment. "Croft, get up, you silly sod! You killed him once, you can do it again."

Angelus closes his eyes, and rubs at his face with the back of one sleeve, though the temperature is enough to make freezing almost instant. "Why are you doing this? I know how you feel about me. You don't want to die. I don't want you to die. Do you see a mutual solution to our two separate
problems here? Just say it. Just say 'help me' and I'll save you." To watchers and all alike, something unseen seems to say this ain't exactly so. The vampire is as treacherous as ever.

Henry Jones Senior seems to recover very quickly, and even smiles at his son. "There's my boy," he says, patting him on the shoulder heartily. "Now help me carry this stupid thing.

Indiana hears more dim sounds. Shouts to 'Croft'. The word 'Killed', somewhere at the edges of his skeptical consciousness, not really registering beyond a sense of unknown urgency. Looking with a still guilty expression at his father he says "Carry it. Right. Out there. Past the...snakes." He moves to the Cross, then prepares to lever it up onto a shoulder with his father's assist. His eyes fall on the slithery forms between himself and the white rectangle of light leading out. "I know that voice," he whispers to himself. Then, he looks to his father, getting angry again, but for a different reason. "C'mon!"

Lara swallows, her voice choked, frozen tears sliding off her cheek. "Get out of my way," she manages. "Or I'll kill you." Never mind he seems to have the Gem. Nevermind she doesn't have a single thing to kill him with. Never mind she doesn't have the strength to fight. She won't humble herself, she won't beg for help. She's never had to before.

Jack rages, like a footballer watching his team fumble the critical goal, before realizing what Lara's up to. "There's a brave girl. Get up." He's trying to assert himself in the vision, as if he could somehow break the barrier.

Kate nervously watches Indy and his father shoulder the Cross, muttering, "What is his dad waiting for? For there to be snakes all over the room?"

"Stakes and stones and yadda yadda," Angelus says, taking the sword off his shoulder and resting the tip in the snow. "I hear when you freeze to death, you get warm first, and just...drift off to sleep. Feeling warm yet?" Angelus tilts his head curiously, as his game face comes on.

Indy's father hefts the other side of the cross, and he's still smiling and jolly. "This is actually quite invigorating," he admits to his son, and not bothered by the snakes. "Don't be such a pansy." See? Henry starts kicking snakes out of his path. "They won't bite," he says with an amused smile.

Lara fires her guns, one for each kneecap. He oughtta remember when she did that once before - ahh, memories.

Indiana grits his teeth, growling "Please don't talk about them biting, Dad...please." He emits a short 'gah!' as an Asp hisses at his heels, and he almost loses his footing. It doesn't take much between the situation, the physical effort, and the snakes...the damn snakes...to make Indy's face wet with sweat. He emits a few more short grunts and whimpers as more of the slithering beasts coil around his feet. He turns his eyes to the door now, pressing on for it, faced pained.

The knees are blown out of his pants, but the skin underneath is unscathed. Angelus looks down at his legs, then at Lara, an unimpressed look on his face. "No, this is good. Really. Let's see how many times you can try and kill me before you freeze to death. Want to try again?" he asks, holding a stake in his hand and offering it. The accursed ring gleams in the sunlight.

"The snow's got them moving so slow even if they tried to bite....sorry," Henry apologizes at his son's complaint. The doors to the room/monastery are fully open now, high and wide, but the vampire hasn't seemed to notice, even as Indiana and father arrive. "Come on now, almost there," he says with a grunt.

Lara looks past Angelus at the figures. "Indiana?" she says faintly, distracted. IT finally connects for Jack. "Lara. Call for Indiana - he has the Nails."

Kate gets the hint, too. "Indy! It's Lara! She needs your help, now!"

Indiana's teeth unclench as the last of the snakes looks up at him with the instinctive hatred of Natural Enemies; at least to his eyes anyways. He boots one out of the way, then pushes and pulls out of the chamber and into the white, freezing environs of Lara's stand against Angelus. His snarl turns towards a nasty, sharp edged smile. He mutters "Dad, help me get it upright..." He starts to bring it to bear now, calling out in a hoarse voice "Hey!" The cross goes up, teeters a little, but he holds it. "Hey! Angie!"

Angelus bats away at Lara's hands, almost lazily, as he steps in and sinks his teeth into the weakened Lara's neck. Even the blood of the almost dead is quite invigorating. Angelus stops his feast for a moment, to whisper in Lara's ear. "I'm sorry it had to be this way," he says without real remorse. "I..." Someone just called him Angie? No one calls him that. Angelus lets the drained body drop from his arms and turn to snarl at the offender.

Henry pushes with Indiana, and the Cross is raised up erect.

Angelus holds up his arms, but even proximity to the large and ancient relic is too much, and flames sprout on his arms.

Lara lets out a cry of pain when those teeth sink into her, her body drops when she's let go, face pale, eyes closed. Her arm splays out as she drops, and tumbling from her cold hand, is the Gem of Amarra. The one that used to be on Angelus' finger.

Kate gasps in excitement, clapping her hands...although in this dream, the sound is muted. "Lara! Lara, keep yourself up! Indy's lit a fire to keep you warm!"

Jack has kept up his non-stop stream of orders, though it's really devolved into simple pleas. "Lara. Lara. Get up. Indiana has the Cross."

Indiana calls out "Burn in Hell you bastard!" He feels something akin to Faith creeping into his veins, but he doesn't seem to mind at the moment, standing as he is with his father, holding the Cross aloft. He then watches as if he's been kicked in the gut as Lara falls. "Lara!"

Kate calls out, "Maybe the Cross can save her! Help her, Indy!"

Angelus turns to flee the horrible burning pain of the Cross, worse than just about anything he's ever felt. He takes two steps back, and then is into the sunlight, without the protection of the ring. The flames on his body turn into an inferno, that consumes him quickly.

Henry is glaring at the evil thing as the power of his God consumes it, and feels like laughing for joy. "Junior, the Cross," he says, right on the heels of Kate and Jack's cries. Their voices seem to be louder now.

Can the whimper be heard above the hiss of snow, and the crackling of fire? Lara's too damn ornery to die. But one small word emerges from her lips, a whisper that seems to echo. "Help..." she's bleeding, she's dying.

Jack says "Dammit, Indiana, help her!"

Indiana plants the cross with a heavy push of his hands on the cross beam, then says "Hold it, Dad. Hold it, and...pray." He moves down the steps, past the smoldering corpse, then moving down to the broken form of Lara Croft. He says "Hold on, Lara, hold on...hold on," as he moves to lift her and ascend with her to the base of the cross.

The last flames die out, and only dust remains of the vampire, stirred and quickly blown away by the wind. "Junior? Junior? What was that?" he asks, as he walks over the scorched steps where Angelus burnt. Henry leaves his question aside to help though, bringing the sacred cross near, the aura of power around it enveloping the three of them.

Lara's hand drapes against the cross, once Indiana gets here. And suddenly her body jerks once, twice, thrice. And her eyes snap open. The wounds on her neck start to close. Color comes back to her face. She opens her mouth to say something...and then the scene changes.



Somehow, it's the barest breath between a heartbeat and an eyeblink - and suddenly it's Indiana and Lara in the spiritual 'penalty' box - able to hear and see each other, able to watch the other pair, but only interact with them at the most potentially critical of moments....but they don't know that. Yet.

For Kate and Jack, it is a typical day at home. Jack has spent his day at the riding academy, and perhaps reclining, or reading the newspaper, or perhaps a book. Kate is back from the airport, having just returned from a successful venture. And their children are ambling about the house, doing what children do in that space of time right before dinner - play.

Lara for her part, immediately puts her hand on her neck. Nope, no bite marks. She peers into the void uncertainly. "Hello?" The visualization of Jack and Kate, however she perceives it, then attracts her attention.

Kate comes into the living room, having just finished a shower and changed into a comfortable yet fetching dress. Her hair is a bit damp, but she leans over and murmurs to Jack teasingly, "/Now/ you can kiss me; I feel like a real person again."

Jack looks up with a smile, his expression a bit harried. "I finally got Elizabeth down for her nap - after the five hundredth repetition of 'I'm a little Teapot'. Honestly, I rue the day you ever taught her that song. And Robbie is in his room, playing with the stuffed Tubby thing. Finally, peace and quiet."

Kate laughs and settles onto Jack's lap, unrepentantly imagining her aristocratic, blue-blooded husband with more ancient ancestral lines than you can shake a stick at...doing the motions that go to the 'I'm a Little Teapot' song. "She heard some kids singing it at her playgroup, and asked me how it went! I would be considered a bad mother if I hadn't taught her. At least it isn't 'Little Bunny Foo Foo'."

The knock at the door is sudden and startling. And very, very brusque. It's reminiscent of the way an SS officer might demand to open a door.

Kate jerks her head around at the sound of the knock, paling a bit. "Who could that be?"

Jack has nuzzled at Kate's throat...only to pause at the sound. "I don't know. I told those Jehovah's Witness people to go away, just the other day. I'll get it."

Indiana rubs his face, then glances around himself, trying to discern just where he is. If it can be defined. "Lara? You seeing what I'm seeing?"

Kate slips off of Jack's lap, standing as she watches Jack approach the door.

Lara nods. "I am. And I have a bad feeling about this." she pauses. "Are we...are we dead?" she blinks. "Am I dead and stuck in some sort of purgatory with -you-?" But the jab is only half-hearted, what she's seeing attracts her attention more. As Jack approaches the door, the knock repeats, harsher, louder.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Jack insists, as he opens the door. "Who is it?"

There, standing in the doorway are several grim looking men in dark coats. "Jack Celliers?" says the one in front, with a deceptively quiet air.

Indiana settles into his limbo state with a vexed expression. "Guess none of what happened back there happened, then. Some sort of hallucination. Mass hypnosis, or somethin'."

Kate chews her lip, taking a few steps closer to the door so she can see who it is.

Jack's expression is imperious and cool. "I am he. What do you want?" he demands, curtly, obviously very ready to slam the door in the collective face of the MiBs.

Too late, they get in the door, slamming him against the wall. The ones that don't are armed, and they train the guns on Kate. Unfortunately, at this moment the children have decided to come looking for their mother, and upon viewing the sight before them, Elizabeth shrieks, and Robbie starts to rush forward. The man's voice is grim. "Jack Celliers, by Order of the National Council To Combat Counter-Morality, you are hereby placed under arrest for the crimes of Perversion, Endangerment of Minors, and Endangerment of Lawful Citizens, Your crime of Perversion has been deemed Triangle Code: Gender Treachery. You have no rights, and you are being removed from the presence of your wife, a Lawful Citizen, and your children, whom by your very presence you may have potentially infested with your sick disease." And damned if they don't start to haul him away.

Indiana mouths the words 'Gender Treachery', eyes squinting as if he didn't quite hear correctly. "The Hell is this?"

Kate quickly catches Robbie by the shoulder with the 'Iron Mother Grip', her face going white as she sees the look of the men and the guns. "NO!" she shrieks as they come to the end of their accusation. "No! You can't take my husband! We've been married for ten years, we have children, he's done nothing wrong!" She pushes Robbie back and rushes for the door to try and catch at Jack before they take him away.

Jack wastes no time in attempting to get free of his captors - writhing, kicking, and even attempting a bite. He doesn't bother to try and deny the accusations, realizing it's already gone long past that point.

Lara pauses, staring at the scene in horror. "Oh," she whispers softly, "Oh -shit-." she raises her volume. "Jack! Kate! It's just a hallucination, it's not real!" She looks back, her eyes actually somewhat frightened on behalf of Jack, in this living Hell. "His worst fear. And possibly Kate's, too." she turns back. "Jack!" she yells again. "Kate!"

One of the men steps forward, and says in a disturbingly kind tone, "Ma'am, you may not be aware of this, but at the recently administered psychological profiling survey administered in your district, your husband's aberrant sexual tendencies were revealed during the process. Ma'am, were you aware that your husband harbors illicit feelings towards other men?" Elizabeth is shrieking, and Robbie just looks horrified, confused - he doesn't understand. The man pats Kate's arm. She's such a little woman, and there's no way she can possibly have any sort of control over this situation. They are, after all, the government. "Please cooperate, ma'am, or we'll have to take you in for Conspiracy, and your children will be sent to the local Minors Ward."

Kate looks between the men. "No -- he's been the perfect father, he's never been unfaithful...Please! I beg you, he's done nothing wrong!"

Indiana blinks at Lara's yelling, then looks with a grimace at the scene playing out across the limbo-space distance. "Thought police...," he notes with disdain. He then cups his hands to his mouth, shouting "Jack, Kate, snap out of it!"

No, those men have a firm grip on Jack, but when he starts to thrash, one of them raises a club. Elizabeth's shrieking becomes shrill, terrified. The scene starts to darken, to speed up, almost as if it were preparing to shift venue...


"It's a lovely day for a hanging, don't you think?" remarks one woman to the other.

"You bet!" replies the other enthusiastically. "I hear this one's a queer. I hope he swings like an anchor, they're so disgusting. How much do you want to bet he offered to do something disgusting for his jailers if he could escape? I hear some of them do that."

The first woman slaps her friend in the arm. "You're disgusting!" "It's true," countered the other woman. "But look...the crowd's gathering, it's almost time. Hey, did you hear about the wife? She disappeared, with the kids too. I wonder if she'll show up. I wouldn't, if /my/ husband turned out to be so vile."

"I don't think they can hear us." says Lara in a despairing tone. She actually looks horrified, and a bit angry on behalf of her countryman.

Indiana tries putting fingers into his mouth and whistling. Nothing. Lowering his hands, he says "Guess we just get to watch."

It's an oddly archaic spectacle - the outline of the scaffolding and gallows is stark against the morning sky, and the Tyburn knot sways loosely in the wind. One expects the crowd to be dressed in tricornes, knee-breeches, and dresses - but the crowd is modern. A pair of those darkly dressed, stone-faced men enter, leading a very stunned-looking Jack. He's obviously been battered, and his hands are bound behind him. There's no attempt on his part to flee, as he's lead up the creaking wooden stairs.

Lara gives Indiana an irritated look. "Do you remember what happened before? Somehow we heard them. I did, at any rate. I'm going to keep trying - /you/ can give up if you want to." She turns back and yells, "Jack! This isn't going to happen, you know! Jack!" she pauses. "Where's Kate? Why isn't she there? She wouldn't abandon him! Jack!"

The crowd jeers and shrieks, even as the knot is tightened around Jack's neck, the hood offered. Where are Jack's friends? Where is Jack's wife? Have they all abandoned him because of his secret, loathing him now because of his perversity?

And perhaps it's the drugs....but there's a voice that Jack remembers, calling his name, as if from very far away.

There had been requests for clemency filed, lawyers hired, appeals made, but all in vain. Kate had been granted a few opportunities to speak to her husband...with a heavy glass panel separating them, but the children were forbidden. During the last meeting, Kate had said she wouldn't give
up...but where has she been since then?

Jack's expression is dull, gaze unseeing. Drugs, perhaps, or simply apathy. He does shake his head at the offer of the hood, though.

Indiana smirks at Lara. "Didn't hear anybody until you were already Angelus' Blue Plate special, myself..." He then cups his hands to his mouth, calling irregardless. "It's all fake! Jack, Kate!"

"I /do/ recall that, in fact. You rather looked like someone had yanked your guts out at the sight of what you thought was my cold corpse. Charming of you to show you care." With that she turns back, her yells adding to Indiana's, becoming a buzz in Jack's ears, distant voices...friends, calling him. Calling him to his end?

The wind ruffles Jack's hair - or what's left of it, considering the severe prison crop he's been given. He raises his head slightly, eyes narrowed...as if trying to trace the sound. Confusion is evident on his bruised face. But there's still enough spirit left for him to snarl at the attendants, "Well? Why are we wasting time?"

There's a low whirring noise in the air, but the crowd doesn't really notice; probably just that plane that was flying around the city earlier, advertising various things. Yesterday it was an ad for a newly-opened restaurant. This morning, a radio station's call sign. Right, there it is again. An old biplane, trailing a banner advertising the buying of bonds for the war effort (after all, there's always a war on). But it's flying rather low, isn't it?

Indiana eyes the biplane, the banner on it, then glances at Lara. "Gotta be some way for them out of this. Kate's a pilot..."

The drums start up, and the priest begins to recite. The rope is fitted to Jack's neck. "If he pitched enough of a fit right now, he'd buy time...if that's truly Kate." And it's plain that in her heart of hearts, Lara believes it is. "Jack! Kate's coming! Jack, fight back!" she pauses. "Lieutenant! You /must/ hold on until reinforcements arrive! She's coming, Jack!" Lara continues to yell, showing far more of her emotions then she has in some time, as if it didn't even bother her to do so...when once it might have.

Loudspeakers start to go off, some ordering the crowd to clear back, others apparently directed at the faulty pilot. "Attention pilot! You are not cleared for this altitude and airspace! Please climb to the proper height immediately! You are not cleared..." And that's all the loudspeaker is able to get out, because right about then there's the sound of machine gun fire, and one of the bullets obviously takes out the PA system. Already retreating crowds now start to actively flee, the sound of shrieks and yells filling the air.

Indiana calls "Cavalry's on the way, Jack! Don't let the bastards get you down!"

Jack is tilting his head from right to left, looking intensely annoyed...perhaps to cover the yawning gulf of fear. But he and the other two remaining on the scaffold all stiffen at the sound of fire. "What the devil- ?" he wonders, a spark of interest finally kindling in his eyes.

Ratta-tat-tat-tat-tat! The gun on the front of the biplane shoots a trail of bullets in front of the scaffold stage, and that's all the inspiration that the crowd needs to get going. Another volley of bullets whiz over his head like sharp wind, and the rope that had been fitted over his head now hangs down against Jack's chest like a grotesque necktie. The hangman starts to run towards Jack, but then he stiffens, falling back with dark crimson stains blossoming upon the front of his shirt. The biplane jettisons its tow-banner, and the heavy trailing advertisement falls like an impromptu net down upon the approaching policemen and their cars.

Lara grins. "Though she be but little," she quotes, "She is fierce." She picks up her yells. "Get your ass moving, Celliers!"

That's enough for Jack to start working hurriedly at the knots that hold his hands.. as well as a reason for him to step back from the trapdoor, lest someone remember to throw the switch, even in the panic.

The pilot in the plane had heretofore been unidentifiable -- head covered in one of those traditional leather caps, with the thick goggles over the eyes, and even the traditional white silk scarf covering the mouth. But now the plane is low enough to see the pilot pull the cap and goggles back, and it is indeed the inestimable Kate. "Jack!" She screams over the roar of the low-flying engines. "Jack! Ladder on the next pass...duck!!" And immediately, she lets off a burst of ammo, taking out a policeman about to fire off a gun in Jack's direction.

The Englishman redoubles his efforts...and has both wrists and throat free by the time she brings the plane around. The few secret police present are managing to recover...but they're too busy with crowd control to worry much about the prisoner. He waves to his wife, urgently.

"Yes!" cheers Lara, she's practically jumping with excitement. She looks /happy/. "Get him, Kate!"

Indiana smiles hesitantly, but mutters "Not out of the fire yet."

True to her word, a rope-ladder is hurled from the plane, and Kate lets off another burst of cover fire before flying right over the gallows-platform. It's a tricky bit of maneuvering, because she *is* quite low to the ground now, and there are trees on the edge of the clearing. Not to mention the fact that she doesn't want to drag Jack to a bitter end once he does manage to grab the rope.

With strength deriving from sheer desperation, Jack grabs the ladder and swarms up it like a monkey with its tail afire. "You did come for me!" he states, breathless with shock - the rope-burns on his wrist and throat are raw.

The only reply his true love gives him at this point is a shouted, "Hold on for dear life!!" And boy, she means it, too. As soon as it's clear Jack has a hold of the ladder and is off of the platform, the biplane lurches up into the sky at a fierce angle, making a circular trajectory so that she doesn't accidentally hurl him into one of the trees. Good thing Jack isn't afraid of heights, because it's not until she's well out of gunfire range that she levels off, and allows Jack to climb up into the seat behind her.


The dream state suddenly snaps like a rubber band...and people open their eyes. Has a few minutes gone by? An hour? Or a scant few seconds?

Jack expels breath explosively, then looks down at his teacup and shoves it away. Manners be damned, he doesn't want any more of that.

Kate gasps, as if coming up from swimming deep, deep underwater...and desperate to get to the surface for some air.

The baba is sipping her tea. "You are worthy." she concludes. "I will tell you where the Nail can be found."


******************


Each of the adventurers has a room in the only hotel the little town has to offer. A remainder of the cold war, it's depressingly industrial in its decor. But there is running hot water, for a miracle, and the sheets are clean, if worn and starchy. Jack has vanished into his room...and one can hear the sound of the shower running.

Kate paces back and forth in her room. She showered, yes, but it was brief due to her restlessness and now she finds she can't really get to sleep either. She tries the connecting door that leads to Jack's room...and it opens after a few pushes. She slips inside, wrapped in her bathrobe, settling into a chair. When she hears the water turn off she'll call to warn him, but for now...just being able to hear him in there is more comforting than being by herself.

The Englishman emerges, clad only in a towel around his waist. The scars on his back and chest are only the more obvious for the flush brought on by hot water. It takes him a moment to notice his fiancée.. and when he does, he starts violently. "Oh, hello, dear."

Kate must have dozed off, lulled by the sound of the water, because she was /planning/ to warn him... "Jack!" she cries out, startled. "Oh, Jack, I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you...I'll go back and let you change in privacy..."

Jack is blushing. "One moment, please." He snatches up nightclothes, and returns in t-shirt and sweatpants.

Kate looks away until Jack reemerges, and then it's clear her face is blushing hard from embarrassment. "I'm sorry...I've been so jumpy since...since this evening's events. It was so /vivid/."

Jack swallows hard, as if trying to remove a lump in his throat. "Yes, it was," he allows, sitting gingerly on the room's hard chair.

Kate looks over at you. "And...I remember now, what we saw Indiana and Lara doing. Angelus and the airplane crash...snakes and Indy's competition with his father...it all was drawn from their fears, as much as I can make out. So..."

Jack nods, once. He's gone very white, and very still.

Kate speaks quickly, the words tripping over themselves as they come out. "So...I know that I have always feared, even had nightmares of you being taken away from me in some manner. Either by the portal, or by the men who killed my father or the authorities...and that happened here. But..." She looks away. "I admit, I never imagined the /reason/ that they came for you, the one that happened in the dream we had tonight."

"What do you mean?" he asks, in a small voice...it's more fear than you've ever seen him show.

Kate coughs, looking again towards her fiancé'. "Well...I'm imagining that part of what we went through was drawn out of my brain, and part out of yours. Jack...do you fear that...well, that people are going to expose you and persecute you for...for being attracted to men?"

Reflexively, he opens his mouth to deny any such thing. And simply can't do it. Instead, he gives a mute, miserably nod....too horrified even to blush.

Kate is frankly staring at Jack in amazement, but then forces herself to turn away at the sight of how mortified he is. "But Jack! I...aren't you...you /are/ attracted to me, aren't you?"

This provokes him to speech. "Of course! I'd never have asked you to marry me if I weren't. Don't doubt that," he insists.

Kate nods her head. "I mean, it's silly for me to worry, you were married before, you had a daughter, so obviously..." She's babbling and she knows it. "I just...well, I didn't /know/ that you were a bisexual, Jack!"

Another one of those slippery modern words he doesn't know. "That I'm a what?" he asks, looking up.

Kate coughs. "Um. Bisexual." She blushes, looking at her lap. "Physically attracted to both men and women."

Jack tests the word, mentally. It fits. "It's not something I'd generally bring up in conversation," he states, trying to take refuge in anger.

Kate whispers, "Would you...never have told me, then? If you could get away with it?"

Jack recoils, indignant. "Of course? What reason would I have to? I'd be married to you. And I was never unfaithful to my wife with anyone, man or woman."

Kate draws up her legs into the other hard chair where she sits. A kind of sad, musing expression sits on her face. "I didn't expect you were, nor would you be with me...but..." She pauses. "I guess I shouldn't feel so bad about it, but...I know there are things that even a husband and wife can never know about each other, but I wish...I wish that maybe you had told me."

Now it's Jack's turn to look at Kate with utter incredulity. "What? Why? I don't know about now, but that was one of the few legitimate excuses for divorce where and when I came from."

Kate bursts out, "But Jack...I love you! I wouldn't break it off over that, if you truly do want..."

Jack says "If I truly do want to what?"

Kate trails off, obviously flustered. "You /do/ want me, don't you?"

Jack gives Kate another look. "Of course. Are you daft, woman? what more do I have to do?"

Kate stands up, face all flushed. "I /do/ love you, Jack. And I want more than anything to be your bride. It's just...well, I don't want you waking up twenty years from now and wishing you could be rid of me so you could run off with another man!"

Jack rises as well, expression equally stormy. "That's absurd. I'd never even think such a thing."

Kate's hands jerk up to hide her face. "This is all coming out wrong. I don't know what I'm saying. I'd better go...Oh Jack, I love you!" And of course she promptly starts to cry, and whisks herself away through the connecting door before another word can be said.

Oh, god, she's crying. And of course Jack is utterly defenseless. Hesitantly, he follows after her. "Dear?"

Kate has flopped herself onto the bed in her room, and the sound of your voice seems to inspire a fresh volley of sobs.

It took less courage for him to face down an incipient mutiny. He steps forward, miserably, and settles down on the bed. "Don't cry, love."

Well, your wife-to-be doesn't follow orders terribly well. She responds by snuffling louder...but she does curl herself around where you're sitting. "I'm...I'b sorry..." she moans in a thick, stuffed-up voice.

Jack dares to slip his arms around her sobbing pilot. "Why? It's not your fault I'm that way," he replies, gently. "And I'm so sorry I hurt you."

Kate snuffles back, "It's not your fault either! I just wish...ohhhh...I don't know what I wish!"

He plants a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I do love you. Never doubt that," he murmurs, softly.

Kate twists around on the bed, looking up now instead of being curled in a C-shape around you. "And you do want to marry me? Have a family with me?"

Jack taps the ring on her finger, gently, with a callused fingertip. "Of course. Or I'd not have given you that."

Kate lets a smile force its way onto her face, in spite of the blotchy, wet condition of her cheeks. "Okay," she whispers huskily.

Jack shows no inclination to go anywhere. "Good," he replies, with another kiss between her brows.

Kate reaches her arms up...and pulls Jack down into a tight, nervous embrace.

Jack yields, as gracefully as he can, to curl protectively beside her.