The journey to the station was completed without incident but as Indy was becoming more and more curious about the whole affair and wanted to get to the station as quickly as possible, even a few minutes seemed an eternity.
"Can't these guys drive any faster?". He said.
"You're not in America now Doctor Jones." Smith replied. "Screeching tyres and hanging out of car windows won't make a lot of difference here. Anyway, were here now."
A long low building of Victorian design stretched many hundreds of yards before them. It was large and very ornate, covering two streets, with the main entrance on a corner. Indy had always admired English architecture and was very impressed by the station although he didn't say anything. The taxi drew up outside the main door and the party got out without speaking. Smith paid the cab driver and gave him a nod.
"Well where to now?" Said Indy. Marcus was staring about in his usual inquisitive way and was not really paying much attention.
"I think the left luggage office is inside on the left, just past the managers office." Said Smith.
"Are you really sure?" Asked Robert, with a puzzled looked on his face.
Smith coughed and stammered, and gave Robert a reproachful look.
"This way Dr Jones." Said Smith, leading the way into the station. Indy looked at Marcus, shrugged his shoulders, and followed. Marcus still stared around like a little boy on holiday.
It was still fairly early in the day and station was busy. People wandered to and Fro going about their Daily lives unaware of the adventure-taking place around them. Smith was right. The left luggage office was just past the manager office. Indy made a mental note of the fact.
"Let me to the talking." Said Smith. "I know how these people work. They will want some form of identification."
"But you haven't got anything." Said Marcus. Smith smiled.
There was an old gentleman in a smart black uniform standing behind a small window which seemed to be the only way to communicate with him. Indy was becoming impatient.
"Just get the map and let's go." He said, giving the small key to Smith.
Smith coughed loudly to gain the attention of the old man, who looked up; peering over the top of a small pair of wire framed glasses. "Can I help you sir?" He said, opening the window slightly. Smith held up the key and the old man opened the window further. He took the key and stared at the number on it. "Just moment sirs." He said, disappearing into his office. Smith turned and looked at Indy.
"Now we wait and see." He said: wringing his hands nervously.
"Stick a gun in his face. That will get some action." Said Indy quietly, turning around and leaning against the wall.
"That's not the way we do things here, Dr. Jones." Smith said with a rather superior tone in his voice. "It may work in America but here it will only get you arrested." Indy looked upwards. "I just hope this is worth it." He said. Moments later, the old man came back carrying a small grey metal box with their key inserted in a small hole in the front. He also had a small piece of paper, which he was staring at. "Have you some form of identification?" He asked looking at them. Smith looked at Indy and the others quickly and then turned on a large sickly smile. He turned to the old man. "Will this do?" He asked, passing a folded ten-shilling note to him. The old man stared for a moment and Indy thought for a second that there was going to be trouble. Then the man took the money and placed the box on the window cill saying, "I'll be back in a moment, gentlemen." He turned and disappeared into his office again. Indy snatched up the box, turned the key and almost ripped off the lid. Inside were an envelope and a thick wad of five-pound notes. Smith drew in his breath sharply.
"I've never seen so much money." He murmured. "There must be five hundred pounds!" Robert gasped, reaching involuntarily to touch it, then realising what he was doing; he dropped his hand suddenly. It was more than he would earn in two years.
"Obviously did something to earn it." Indy said sardonically. He put the box down and took out the envelope, all but ignoring the money. He looked at Marcus, then opened it. Inside was a folded sheet of paper. Indy drew in a breath, then unfolded it. It was a drawing of part of a map. Quickly, Indy drew the other piece from his shoulder bag and held them side by side. They were a perfect match. He smiled, looking at the others. Suddenly, there was a gunshot and at the same instant, a chunk of masonry and a rain of dust came down on him. Indy looked up, holding his hat and stared at the hole in the wall a foot above his head. "Jesus. Not again." He said, jamming the papers into his bag. "C'mon. Run!" He yelled, diving toward the platform entrance as another shot sounded behind him. People were screaming and yelling, running in all directions. Somewhere behind them, a police whistle sounded. Indy glanced back for a second as he ran but in the confusion, he couldn't tell who was simply running with him, or after him. Out on the platform passengers were running both ways as a train slowly started to pull away. Without hesitating, Indy grabbed a carriage door handle and yanked. The door flew open and Indy dived inside. He rolled across the floor of the carriage, allowing Marcus and the others room to follow. As the train gained speed, the shouts of panic and confusion at the station receded into the distance, until all that could be heard was the rhythmic metal clatter of the train. Indy sighed and stood up.
"How the hell is it that everywhere we go, someone knows we're there?" He asked. The question was almost aimed at professor Smith but Indy suddenly realised that Smith was not with them.
"Where the hell is he?" He said, opening the train door against the force of the wind, holding onto his hat and looking back the way they had come. The station was no longer even in sight. Robert looked panic stricken. "They must have got him. Shot him. He's dead."
Indy pulled back into the carriage and heaved the door closed. The noise of rushing wind and the train's wheels subsided instantly. He leaned against the wall, panting, almost oblivious to Roberts' words. "Why trains?" He mumbled, pushing his hair back with one hand and replacing his hat with the other. Then, as if taking command of the situation once more, he turned to Marcus.
"There's something pretty strange going on here." He said. "We're being tailed, and I don't like it." He looked at Robert, who was still muttering incoherently about murder, abduction and the general demise of Professor Smith. Indy shook his head in disbelief. "Robert. Snap out of it son. Smith isn't dead." He said. Robert stared at him, almost with unrecognising eyes, as if he was trying to remember whom this strange man in the scruffy clothes and hat really was. "Eh? What?" Was all he said. "He's not dead." Indy repeated. "Someone else is after the map pieces. They will want him alive" He added. "Come on. Listen." Indy shook Robert by the shoulders. "Hell, he's worse than dad." He said to no one in particular. "Robert. Think. Look at the shots aimed at us today. They were trying to miss us. They want us scared, not dead. And what about me? Prisoner in a room that wasn't even locked? My bag and gun on the table down the hallway? If these guys wanted to raise my curiosity they're sure as hell doing a good job. But kill us? I don't think so somehow. I just can't figure out why. C'mon, Robert. Help me out here. Who else was involved at the museum? Who else knew about the things taken from Ballards' room?" Robert seemed to be struggling with his own inner fears for a moment, weighing up what Indy had said. Then he straightened up and made a conscious internal effort to be more like this large, brash American, who seemed to be so in control of his emotions. "Um, let me think." He said, going over recent events in his mind. Indy looked hopefully at the young man. "Yes? Yes?" He prompted.
"No, no one." Robert replied lamely. Indy sagged visibly.
"Are you sure?" Marcus said gently, straightening his clothes and hair after recovering his breath from his running leap onto the moving train. He could never quite get used to the way that his life as a quiet college professor was always turned on it's head whenever he got into any kind of adventure with Indy.
"Well," Robert said, after a moments thought. "There was this chap that professor Smith spoke to occasionally on the telephone. I never spoke to him myself. He had a strange, foreign name. I'm afraid I can't remember what it was. He only called once or twice."
Indy looked at Marcus. "Then it's probably him, or Ballard himself that's chasing us. It has to be. Probably Ballard. He knows we have both pieces of the map and he wants them back."
"But why tear the map in half in the first place when he had it to himself. Why not just go straight to the dig site and recover whatever treasures he wanted?" Marcus said, puzzled by the apparent absurdity of it. Indy thought, then the answer to the riddle hit him like a thunderbolt.
"Marcus. Don't you see? He was like Smith. He thought the map was of the site dig at Alexandria. He DID go there, but he couldn't find anything. He just assumed it was the map that was badly drawn. It never occurred to him that the map was of a different site. He was digging in the wrong place." Then Robert put the last piece of puzzle into place.
"What was so special that he was looking for? I mean, how did he know it was the wrong site if he wasn't looking for something in particular? What was missing? What was he actually searching for?"
"Robert, you're a genius." Indy said, slapping him on the shoulder. "Him and his Nazi pals, they're not looking for Cleopatra. They're looking for the other cats. No one has found them yet."
"I'm not sure I follow you, Indy." Marcus said, confused. "I thought professor Smith said the cats were all accounted for." Indy shook his head. "No, not all. He ASSUMED they were. Three were found at the site on the map by one of his men, four were used for murder and three turned up somewhere in Alexandria." Indy stared out of the carriage window, watching the last of the houses disappear into the surrounding English countryside. "What about the other three?" He continued. "That's what our friends with the guns are after. They want the map. They've discovered their mistake and want the last of the cats. They still think the British police have all the other cats that have been found. I guess they don't know about the one the professor borrowed back from the police to show us. We have to find the missing library room at Alexandria." Robert was having trouble keeping up with the story. "But why?" He asked. "What has the lost library of Alexandria got to do with all this?" He said. Indy pulled the pieces of map from his shoulder bag and held them together against the carriage wall. "Look." He said. "The map shows the layout of the tomb. It even shows us it's near a river. But that's all. We have no real clue to its' actual location. We need the scrolls from the library for that. With that information and this map, we can find the tomb and the missing cats."
"Very astute of you, Doctor Jones."
Indy spun round to see a short, stocky balding man grinning slyly at him. In his hand was an automatic machine gun. It was aimed at Indy.
"My name is Black. I have been following you, as you have probably noticed. I can assure you, I am actually an excellent shot, though you probably think otherwise." Indy nodded, lowering his hands. "Keep them up please. All of you." Black pointed upwards with the gun. Indy and the others raised their hands. "You didn't want us dead." Indy said. "You wanted us to find the map and work out the puzzle for you." Black smiled. "You have been most useful, Doctor Jones. Your reputation is accurate. My employer has been trying to solve the riddle of the tomb for some time now. Then he had the bright idea of getting the great Indiana Jones to work it out for him." "Glad to oblige." Indy sneered. Black nodded sarcastically and waving the gun at Marcus and Robert, said, "In there, gentlemen, please." He nodded at a door marked 'GUARD' on one side of the corridor. Marcus looked at Indy and moved to the door. Robert followed. Keeping the gun on Indy with one hand, Black opened the door with the other and motioned Marcus and Robert to enter. Silently, they complied. When they were inside, he pulled the door shut and called out, "Lock the door and push the key underneath." Moments later the lock clicked and the key slid out on the floor. Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on Indy, Black retrieved the key and said, "Now, if you would just be so kind as to pass me the pieces of the map..." He got no further. The train entered a second tunnel, plunging them into semi darkness once again, throwing him off guard for a mere second. It was all that Indy needed. His foot came up instantly, catching Black sharply on the trigger hand. Gunfire exploded around them in the confines of the carriage and the roof was instantly riddled with holes. Indy lunged forwards, grabbing the gun barrel and heaving it upwards, towards Blacks' face. "I hope it doesn't rain." He said, smiling at Black and looking up at the holes in the ceiling but surprisingly, Black was extremely strong and only smiled back at Indy, whose face was mere inches from his own. Slowly, the gun turned back toward Indy and his smile turned to a look of panic. The gun was pointing at the side of his head and Indy could see the trigger being squeezed. Beads of sweat trickled down his face. Suddenly, he gave Black a quick wink and lunged forwards, biting him hard on the nose. Black screamed out in pain, dropping the gun and grabbing his nose. Indy spat to one side and said, "Wet nose, healthy dog." His fist came up, slamming into Blacks already bleeding face, snapping his head backwards. Black dropped to the floor like a sack of flour. Indy shook his fist and rubbed his knuckles. "Hard headed son of a bitch." He mumbled "Indy. Indy. What's going on? Are you alright? Indy.." The voice was Marcus'. He was banging on the door with his fist and in the background, Robert was yelling, "Let us out."
Indy bent to retrieve the gun and the key to the small office door and at that instant there was the sound of gunfire and a loud crack as a bullet hit the wall level with where only seconds before his head had been. Indy's head jerked up to see two more men in black raincoats coming down the far end of the train carriage toward him. Various passengers and railway officials had begun to appear, attracted by the noise of gunfire but a wave of the weapons of the two newcomers was sufficient to send them all scurrying back to where they had come from. A second bullet in Indy's direction told him to run. He looked around and saw there was only really one way to go. He lunged at the outside door and flung it open as a third and a fourth bullet missed him by inches. He jammed his hat hard onto his head and said, "Helluva day for a train ride." Then he took his whip and with a long practised flick of the wrist, the whip snaked out with a crack, wrapping itself firmly around the nearer rail of a small ladder leading to the carriage roof, some ten feet away from him. Another bullet shot past him, this time so close that he felt it pass through his jacket, wildly snapping in the wind. He took a breath and jumped outwards, away from the train and his momentum, coupled with the rush of wind against his body took him in a graceful arc, back and downwards, to curve up and onto the roof of the carriage. He could almost hear the music of triumph in his ears. He flicked the whip loose and pulled, then wrapped it, keeping in one hand for safe measure. Crouching down, holding onto his hat, Indy quickly appraised the situation. The only way to get Marcus and Robert free was to go back into the carriage. He turned to look at the rear of the train. He counted four coaches. Placing each step carefully in the buffeting wind, Indy began the treacherous task of walking the roof to the end carriage. "I hate trains." He murmured. Hardly had he gone ten paces onto the next coach when a bullet whistled past him and a voice carried on the wind cried to him, "Give us the map, Jones."
Indy lifted his head and saw one of the two men coming up between the two carriages in front of him.
"You won't shoot me." He yelled. "If I fall off the train you won't get the map." "Hah!" Indy said to himself, smiling, pleased with his unswayable reasoning. A gunshot took the smile off his face. "Nice guy." He said to himself, then called out, "OK, Don't shoot. I'm coming." Carefully, Indy made his way toward the man. Trees were rushing by near the coach as they passed through a small wood and as Indy noticed them, he had a sudden idea. Quick as a flash, he loosed his whip and with lightning reflexes, struck out at a passing tree. The whip end snaked around a thicker branch and Indy gripped the handle tightly with both hands and ran toward the rapidly disappearing tree and to the thugs' astonishment, he leaped off the side of the train. The thug could only gape in open-mouthed disbelief as Indy's momentum carried him out in a wide arc around the tree and back onto the train roof. He had judged the distance well and as Indy approached the train like a missile, he drew his legs up into a crouch and struck out with them as he flew directly into the thug like a sledgehammer. The speed and violence of the impact took the thug completely off his feet and off the train roof, whilst also serving to break Indy's speed and trajectory, bringing him to a stop exactly where moments before, the villain had stood. Again, with a deft flick of the wrist, the whip was back in his sole possession once more.
Indy smiled to himself. Marcus would never believe that one.
Again, Indy crouched down and headed for the rear of the train.
"Very good, Jones. Very good." A voice shouted faintly in the rushing wind.
Indy looked up to see the other thug peering over the end of the roof of the last coach some thirty feet in front of him. He was pointing a gun. Indy sighed deeply. "Jesus. Don't you guys ever give up?" he said to himself but to his amazement, the crook lowered the gun and called, "Goodbye, Doctor Jones." He tilted his head to one side, and pointed past Indy.
A sudden pang of doubt struck him and Indy spun round to see the sheer solid brick wall of a tunnel mouth speeding towards him, only feet away.