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| style parlor. "Do you really blame him?" His brother-in-law nodded, only he was glad for other reasons than Rick. He was more than glad he had declined a NIP of the prune wine and the prune pound cake. "No thank you my dear, sweet Auntie. Nothing for me. I've eaten already." The last thing he wanted on this trip, was what Rick had referred to as the 'Prune Two Step.' He felt bad enough, thank you very much. That indignity he'd pass on. "Okay Sherlock," Rick glanced at his wife. "So, what have you got planned for us once we get to Egypt?" He knew when he asked, his neck was in a noose, and his butt was in the proverbial sling. "I think the first thing we should do is go to Cairo to see if we can find out about Aswad and who knew him. Maybe they could give us some insight, as to what he was like and the people he knew." "Ahhh, the needle in the haystack approach. That's always a good one." Sighing, he rolled his eyes. "That's what, about million people to talk to, and find out if anybody remembered this old guy?" He suddenly had a feeling this was going to be a long trip. He moaned and wished they were on the yacht. No so much because of setting sail, later this afternoon, but because there was aspirin in the galley. From here they'd go to a long list of places and talk to any one and probably everyone Evie and Jon could corner or he, himself could tackle. All they needed was transportation to get around. Rick smiled to himself. Didn't genies have magic carpets? Yeah and he knew a certain one personally. At six-thirty, four people boarded The WaSi and in an hour, were underway. By nine Evie had fixed a late dinner of, coffee, tea, sandwiches, pickles, and prune pound cake that Rick picked up off the table in the galley, opened a port hole and dropped in the drink. He looked at his wife's arched eye brow and in her own words offered her an apologetic, "Oops!" To which Jonathan nodded at Ardeth with a sigh, "Thank God for that at least." "Could have been worse Jon," Rick said critically, "She tried to give me a case of wine before we left. Said she was worried about the way you looked. You know, the accident and all." Poor Jon turned white as a sheet. "Please tell me you declined THAT offer?" "I just told her, we knew you were full of crap but, you didn't need it that bad," he grinned. "THANK YOU VERY MUCH!" "Welcome." Later after Jonathan and Evie were asleep in their cabins, Rick and Ardeth sat in the wheelhouse. Rick stretched trying to get the stiffness out of his shoulders. "I need some coffee. What about you?" Ardeth nodded, standing up. "Coffee would be good, I think." He turned to the door, but Rick stopped him. "Hey, why don't you take the wheel for awhile and I'll get it. I need to stretch my legs." Again Ardeth nodded and took Rick's vacated seat. "I'll be right back. And if I run into trouble," he grinned, "I'll jump over the side and go for help." Ardeth could only stare at his retreating form in wonder. He shook his head at the odd statement and glanced out at the dark ocean. Rick O'Connell would forever remain a mystery. In the galley Rick poured two steaming mugs of coffee, no cream, no sugar. In the cabinet, he pulled out a cookie jar and extracted four large sugar cookies and sat them on a plate, then put everything on a tray and headed back for the steps, when a light in an empty cabin caught his eye. "What the hell?" He sat the tray down quietly and pulled out a Colt. Since Jon and Evie's door were shut, he had a sneaking suspicion in his gut, something smelt and it wasn't Pruneface's house! Slowly he began to creep down the hall until he stood outside the door. Through the crack he could see someone bent over, going through drawers. "Little bastard," he thought. "I got you now!" He slowly toed the door open with a boot and stood there, relishing the look on this joker's face, when he finally turned around and saw a loaded Colt staring at him. It didn't take Rick long to find out, but where he was expecting to find some hulking thug he looked into the face of a kid not much older than his son! "Ga lee!" The five foot, seven inch, whirlwind with the shock of sun kissed, sandy brown hair, had no where to go except through this overgrown gorilla. Well like Pop always said, if you can't go over 'em, under 'em, around 'em, then you go through 'em! Problem was the gorilla had a gun. The boy put on his best glare, staring at the man in front of him. With the way his luck was running, he'd get shot in the ass before he got two feet. He might try reasoning with the big ape, but to his knowledge primates couldn't talk. So that left the other option. Pray he got lucky and was fast enough to get away. He geared his nerve. Old steel eyes grinned at him. Hell, not that good. The next thing he knew, was two thousand pounds was on top of him, squashing him like a swamp tick. He fought to get loose screaming at the top of his lungs. "Get off me you, Saleau (dirty old man)!" That earned him a peeshnick on top of his head, with a big knuckled finger. "My boat! MY questions!" Rick snapped and thumped him on the head again. "Who the hell are you?" "Kiss my rosy red..." THUMP! "Hey!" THUMP! "Jerk!" THUMP, THUMP! "Bastard! Get off me!" THUMP! "Who are you?" "John Brown, ask me again and I'll knock you down!" THUMP!THUMP! THUMP! The boy fought harder struggling to rid himself of the weight. "Get..." THUMP! "WHO ARE YOU? AND DON'T MAKE ME ASK AGAIN BOY!" "The King of..." THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP! "England." THUMP!THUMP! "CRAP! That hurts!" "GOOD!" Rick grinned, "I meant for it to. Break into somebody's property and expect it to hurt! Now who the hell are you?" he asked showing the kid a fist full of bony knuckles. "You broke in first and stole my stuff! And I want it back!" Rick looked at him like he had grown two heads. "I never stole..." "LIAR! You broke into the safe at Papere's house and stole my dad's wallet, you bastard! I saw you!" Rick sat back a little, but otherwise didn't move to let the kid go. "Who are you?" he asked quietly. "Christopher Richard O'Connell O'Malley!" Behind them at the door, there was an audible gasp. He didn't have to turn to know it was his wife and Jon. "Charles Sonderburg was my grandfather. Now get off you bastard!" Rick moaned when a bony knuckled fist came loose and punched him in the nose. "I knew this was gonna be a lousy day." Shelby ([email protected]) December 12, 2002 Strong Willed Stubborn boy. Alex looked out the front window of his Aunt�s house still fuming as his parents� car pulled out of the driveway. He resented them for not allowing him to go on this adventure, and was even more incensed that he had to stay with his Aunt. Alex shut his eyes when he heard her calling his name, asking him if he wanted any prune salad for dinner, and it was at that moment that the thirteen year old boy, who in his opinion was practically a man, made a reasonable decision. As fast as he could he made a phone call to a local taxi company, he was not about to stay here with Pruneface, not when he was going to miss helping his family find the answers which they sought. Once he made his phone call, Alex walked to the parlor and found his Aunt seated in a dark burgundy velvet rocking chair drinking a crystal stemmed glass of prune wine. "Here Auntie let me get you more of that," he said, his plan already set in |