“Indiana Jones and the Towers of the Empty Quarter” – Part III

Indiana Jones and the Towers of the Empty QuarterAnd now the conclusion of Indy’s adventure in the Arabian desert as he and Diana Forrestal attempt to escape from Colonel Rommel—and an unearthly threat even more terrifying than the Nazis.

Click here to read Part One.

Click here to read Part Two.

 


“Indiana Jones and the Towers of the Empty Quarter” – Part III
Phil Giunta

CHAPTER EIGHT – THE WILL OF ALLAH

“Doctor Jones, report!”

Returning to the temple’s entrance, Indy peered up at the three intruders and their hostage. Not surprisingly, the scene had changed little. With the darkening sky beyond them, the two Germans—presumably Nazi agents—walked slowly around the edge of the cavity peering down at him.

“There’s nothing in here,” Indy lied. “Just old wood and stone.”

“I see.” Nodding his head slowly, the colonel glanced thoughtfully at the landscape around him. Then without warning, he abruptly leveled his weapon at the archaeologist. “Then they will mark your tomb.”

Indy flinched, anticipating the impending hail of death.

Instead, a desperate scream echoed through the chamber as Diana wrested herself from the grasp of the hulking Arab and lunged at Rommel. As the pair tumbled out of view, a stream of sand poured into the Oracle, followed by the colonel’s MP-40. Without hesitation, Indy tossed the lantern aside and dived for the gun before rolling into the shadow of the nearest wall. Pressing himself against the flat stone, he risked a glance upward and frowned.

To his astonishment, all interest in him seemed suddenly lost as attentions became riveted to the commotion playing out in the desert above. Hardly more than silhouettes now, Taif and the junior Nazi were aiming at the combatants, no doubt waiting for a clear shot at Diana.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Indy ensured that neither man obtained that opportunity. The young German was the first to fall, his bullet-ridden body still convulsing minutes after it lay sprawled on the dune. Attempting to escape a similar fate, Taif backed away from the pit, but not before his legs were rendered useless by another barrage from below. Seconds later, Indy heard a thud followed by a muffled scream. Then, silence.

Diana!

Slinging the gun over his shoulder, Indy clutched the rope that somehow managed to remain tied to the rear of Rommel’s truck just a few meters away. As he drew himself up onto the surface of the Empty Quarter, he spun about in search of the woman. When he finally spotted her, he found himself stifling a chuckle. The young guide lay pinned to the ground, struggling to liberate herself from beneath the dead weight of the immobile Arab. At that moment, it dawned on him that there was one person missing.

“Indy!” Diana grunted. “Behind—”

The black-gloved fist caught him below the eye just as he turned.

“—you!”

The archaeologist stumbled backward into the sandbank, the MP-40 flying from his grasp and slipping down the shallow incline. Rommel started for the weapon until Indy propelled himself at the colonel, nearly knocking him into the Oracle.

While soldier and scientist clashed, Diana finally managed to squirm her way free from beneath Taif. She pulled herself to her hands and knees but never made it to her feet as another body toppled over her, knocking her face first into the sand. Lifting her head, she scowled at the grimacing, bloodied visage of Indiana Jones.

“I should have gone to Peru with my father,” she muttered to no one in particular.

Looking over her shoulder, she gasped as Rommel, his nose and left eye swollen, recovered his gun. At the same moment, Indy lunged for Taif’s, yanking it out of the Arab’s grip.

In unison, both men raised their weapons.

And instantly froze.

An unearthly howl filled the air as if nature herself became enraged at the brutality unfolding upon this holy ground. Their aim never wavering, the men looked around for the source of the noise. As it faded, Diana thrust a finger in the direction of Ubar.

“There!”

Along the horizon, with the last rays of the setting sun as their backdrop, an army of Arabs on horseback approached at a phenomenal speed. Indy tried to determine their exact numbers, a task that was brusquely cut short as a violent wind erupted without warning, churning a torrent of sand that all but completely blinded him. He could barely discern the fading figure of Rommel now engaged in a different battle—one of survival.

Allah’s Will be done…

Along the trail behind them, the camels on which Indy and Nisab arrived wailed in primal fear before scattering in different directions. Within seconds, they were lost from sight in the blizzard of sand.

“We need to get out of here, now!” Diana shouted, her mouth covered with a piece of cloth torn from her sleeve.

Indy waved the MP-40 toward the opposite side of the temple’s entrance. “Get to the truck!”

With the whereabouts of the German colonel now a lesser priority, the pair clutched each other’s hand and trudged through the deepening terrain. Then the howling, like a baying wolf, erupted once more.

“What is that?” Indy asked. “It doesn’t sound natural!”

Diana shook her head. “No idea, but it’s getting clos—”

Suddenly, she stopped. Indy felt a slight tug on his arm. As he turned to look back, a flash of dark motion caught his eye, then another. All around them now, strange shapes like shadows appeared to coalesce and vanish as if formed by the roiling dune itself.

Finally, one of the shadows materialized directly ahead of them. To his bewilderment, Indy was able to see the newcomer clearly as if the storm had parted between them. Face concealed by a scarf, a tall Arab in a tattered, soiled burnoose sat hunched atop his horse. The animal, brown with a shock of white that ran the length of his snout, was remarkably calm despite the surrounding turmoil.

Diana shouted a greeting in Arabic, yet the man remained silent. It was then that Indy noticed something bizarre. He blinked twice to be sure that it was not an illusion. Tapping his companion on the arm, he pointed to the horse’s hoofs. Not one was touching the ground.

Slowly, they lifted their gaze to the rider. What they saw made Indy’s stomach sink and sent Diana into a shrieking fit.

The rider’s face was no longer hidden. There was in fact, no face at all save for the misshapen skull that screeched back at her. As if signaled by the sound, the shadows of earlier returned, no longer indiscernible. Rather, they were all hideous creatures similar to the one before them. Diana started to scream again before Indy jerked her arm, pulling her against him.

“Keep moving!” he barked.

Heads tucked low, they plowed ahead, trying in vain to ignore the phantoms taunting their every step. More than once, Indy felt the scratching of bony hands clawing at his back and arms. Diana’s sporadic yelps told him that she was experiencing the same.

A blanket of olive drab rippled across Indy’s field of vision, momentarily covering his face. When it happened a second time, his temper overcame him and he seized the scrap of cloth, pulling until it was stretched taut. Upon closer examination, he realized that the material did not belong to one of the circling ghouls but rather to—

“The truck!”

With Diana in tow, Indy followed the torn canvas hand over hand until he reached the rear canopy. Hastily, the pair made their way alongside vehicle until they came upon the cab. Opening the door, he practically shoved Diana inside. Tossing her the gun, he climbed in behind the wheel as Diana slid over to the passenger seat. No sooner did he slam the door shut then one of the apparitions leaped through the window, reaching for his throat. Reflexively, Indy cupped his hand over its demonic face and pushed until his palm touched the cold glass, returning the creature to the raging terror swirling around them outside.

Another hand wrapped around his right sleeve. With a start, Indy raised his fist then scowled as Diana tugged on his arm frantically. “We can’t go anywhere! We don’t have the key! We don’t have the damn—”

Flashing a lopsided grin, the archaeologist produced a set of keys from his jacket pocket. “It’s amazing what people lose in the sand.”

Within seconds, however, his bravado all but faded when the engine failed to start after three attempts.

“Maybe we should ask the ghosts to give us a push?” Diana jibed, failing to conceal her mounting fear.

Ignoring her, Indy pressed the starter and turned the key once more. He exhaled in relief as the vehicle roared to life. They lurched forward when he stepped on the gas pedal but other than that initial movement, their progress was disconcertingly slow. Indy expected as much but it was their only means of escape.

The truck began to shudder as it crept along through the gusting wind and deepening sand. Angry specters streaked past the windshield, forming a ghastly roadblock. Yet there was no road, the trail to Ubar was as invisible as the night sky. Worse, neither driver nor passenger was confident as to their direction.

Diana’s wide-eyed gaze darted from side to side, watching as death swarmed around them like predators before the kill. “We’re not going to make it out alive.”

“I’ve been through worse,” Indy began, his expression one of grim determination. “No, I think they just want us to leave and they’re escorting us out to make sure we do. If they wanted to kill us, they could have done that a hell of a lot sooner. Something tells me we’re safe in here—”

His final words came out as little more than choked gurgles as something wrapped around his neck from behind and squeezed. “Safe from who, Doctor?”

Diana let out a short scream at the sight of Colonel Rommel, his appearance nearly resembling that of the creatures from which they were fleeing. The man’s face and hair were mottled with sand and blood. Likewise, his suit had become torn and filthy in the storm.

Now, with efficient speed, he curled one arm around Indy’s throat while with his other hand, slammed the grip of his pistol against the back of Diana’s head. As she slumped forward unconscious, the colonel turned the gun on Indy, boring its muzzle into the side of his face.

“You lied to me, Jones! There was something down there. It was the Oracle of Ad!”

Releasing the steering wheel, the archaeologist drew his elbow back, connecting with Rommel’s nose and sending him stumbling back into the rear of the truck. Stopping the vehicle, he reached over and lifted Diana’s head. The woman groaned softly before again falling silent. He sat her upright then scrambled out of the driver’s seat to face Rommel, who was just now picking himself up from the floor of the truck, blood trickling from his nostrils.

Retrieving the MP-40, Indy approached the German. “You want to go back and find the Oracle? Be my guest!”

Rommel raised his pistol, his mouth twisted in a wry grin. “Once again, we seem to be at an impasse, Herr Doctor.”

“You don’t even understand what’s going on here!”

“On the contrary, it’s quite stimulating. With the power of the Oracle, the Third Reich will be invincible!”

“You won’t live long enough to tell your Führer. You’ll have died for nothing.”

The colonel shook his head as he reached into his suit pocket and removed his camera. “They will find this and develop the film. Once they see what we have found, our sacrifice will be remembered as having served the glory of Germany!”

“You’re sick!” Indy spat. “I’m not dying for you or your damn Nazi—”

Suddenly, the howling of earlier returned, but with a fierce intensity as yet unheard. It seemed to close in on them from all sides until it was just beyond the confines of the truck. Then just as abruptly as it began, the horrific bellowing ceased, leaving only a disquieting silence in its wake.

Outside, the wind continued to drive a continuous cloud of sand into the canopy.

The two men exchanged final, taciturn stares before the Empty Quarter erupted beneath them.

Indiana Jones Comic Panel 4

 

CHAPTER NINE  – THE UNCROWNED KING

The first sensation he felt was the burning in his lungs.

It was then that he realized that he wasn’t breathing. In a panic, he sprang to his knees, which immediately induced a fit of violent coughing. Almost a full minute later, he winced in reaction to the blinding sunlight and searing heat of the desert morning. Sunlight?

Memories of the previous night’s events burst into his thoughts. He turned to look behind him and gasped. The truck had tipped over and was now lying on its side. About ten feet to his right, the unmoving form of Colonel Rommel lay sprawled in the sand.

“Diana,” Indy whispered as he rose to his feet and clumsily staggered toward the vehicle.

As he passed the German, he noticed two things almost simultaneously. First, the MP-40 was within the other man’s reach and secondly, his peripheral vision caught a discreet movement.

Indy dove for the weapon just as Rommel stretched his arm toward it. At the same time, both opponents lifted the weapon out of the sand, struggling for possession.

Just then, a pack of Arabs on horseback charged toward them from behind a series of dunes. A sense of déjà vu fell over the scene as Rommel sneered at Indy. “It’s either me or them, Doctor. Death by my hand would be much less savage, I assure you. Of course, I would see to it that your lovely companion is well cared for… if she is still alive.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Throw down your weapons!”

As the horsemen surrounded the truck, their leader, a burly man with graying facial hair, trotted closer until he was peering down at the two combatants. “I will not repeat myself.”

In unison, both men released the weapon, allowing it to fall into the sand.

“Now,” the Arab began in accented yet fluent English. “Who are you?”

The Nazi straightened himself to his full height and stared his inquisitor in the eye proudly. “I am Colonel Erwin Rommel of the Third Reich.”

“A German.” Clearly unimpressed, the Arab turned his attention to Indy.

“Indiana Jones. Archaeologist from the United States. My caravan was searching for Ubar until we—”

He was interrupted by shouts from the other soldiers. After a brief exchange with his men, the leader again addressed the two foreigners. “Whose woman is this that speaks our language?”

Emerging from the opposite side of the overturned vehicle, Diana joined the scene escorted by two armed Arabs, her face streaked with blood.

Indy grinned sheepishly. “Uh, well, mine I suppose. We were just leaving when we ran into a sandstorm. If you could help us get to Jabrin, we would pay you generously.”

“You bring violence to our land during the week of mourning and yet have the indecency to request our assistance?”

“Mourning? For who?” Rommel asked impatiently.

“Lawrence,” Indy answered as realization dawned.

The Arab seemed taken aback at the utterance of the name. He sat upright in his saddle and spread his arms as if to encompass the entire Empty Quarter. “We are the Soldiers of the Uncrowned King. I am Obad. My father, like many of our fathers, fought alongside Lawrence to free our land from the oppression of the Ottoman Empire.”

Obad glared at Rommel. “It is that same oppression which we will never allow to rule this nation again. Heed my words, German.”

“Wait.” Indy held up a hand before reaching into his jacket.

Obad’s men instantly trained their rifles on him. Ignoring the threat, he removed his battered wallet and opened it.

“Bribery, Jones?” Rommel chimed in. “You truly are a coward.”

Dismissing the colonel’s remarks, Indy handed a small photograph to Obad. The Arab held it up to the light and studied it for several long moments, more than once glancing back at the American.

“I was much younger then,” the archaeologist added, “but he was one of the greatest men I knew.”

“What’s going on, Jones?” the colonel asked through gritted teeth.

Finally, with a bemused smile, Obad lowered the picture and stared at Indy in wonder.

 

EPILOGUE

New York – Two days later

 “The storm seemed to end the moment we crossed the trail between Ubar and the Oracle, or at least that’s where we found ourselves the next morning.”

“Astounding.” Marcus Brody shook his head in disbelief as he listened to the tale while he, Diana, and Indy shared breakfast at an outdoor coffee shop.

“Do you mean to tell me that the Arabs agreed to let you go just for giving him a picture of you as a boy shaking hands with Lawrence?”

Indy nodded as he gulped down his second cup. “Not only that, he wanted to have his picture taken with me. So the good colonel, figuring it would help his own chances of getting out alive, volunteered his camera.”

Reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket, he removed a small envelope and handed it to Brody.

“Whether that’s Ubar or not, we’re still not sure,” Diana said. “It would take a large scale excavation to find out.”

As he skimmed through the photos, Brody frowned. “I doubt this will be enough evidence to convince the museum’s backers. Nonetheless, good job both of you. Indiana, I trust you feel better about the Rub Al Khali now that you’ve had some measure of success?”

“I certainly think I did better this time around,” the archaeologist agreed. “Although I still would like to know what the Nazis were doing there.”

Brody snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes! Well, according to Mister Freeman, whose brother it was that arranged for your trip, Saud’s men apprehended two German spies who were apparently attempting to sabotage the negotiations with Standard Oil. You must have just stumbled onto them purely by accident.”

“Well, I guess that’ll teach Rommel to stay out of the desert.”


JUST THE FACTS

Pompeii

Pompeii was an ancient city in Italy that vanished after the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD. For hundreds of years, the city lay buried under cinders, ashes, and stone. Since Pompeii was rediscovered in the 1700’s, much has been learned about its history.

The fair blue skies of Pompeii attracted many wealthy Romans who built great villas near the Mediterranean shore where they could enjoy the mild, sunny climate. The city carried on a prosperous trade in wine, oil, and breadstuffs.

In the summer of 79 AD, Vesuvius erupted suddenly and with incredible violence. Hot ashes, stone, and cinder rained down on Pompeii. The remains of about 2,000 people out of a population of some 20,000 have been found in excavations at Pompeii. Though Vesuvius did not, as told in this story, erupt in 1935, its final two eruptions were 1929 and 1944.

Archaeologists have found the shells (or molds) of bodies preserved in the hardened ash and by carefully pouring plaster into the shells, they have been able to make detailed copies of the individuals, even to the expressions of agony on their faces. From 1924 to 1961, Amadeo Maiuri supervised the Pompeii excavations.

 

Clodius Albinus Augustus

Clodius Albinus Augustus, governor of Britain during the height of the Roman Empire, briefly set himself up as emperor after the death of Pertinax (193 AD). He was subsequently put to death by his successful rival Lucius Septimus Severus.

 

Rub Al Khali

The Rub al Khali is an immense desert covering about 250,000 square miles (647,500 square kilometers) of southern Saudi Arabia. The vast desolate area, whose name in English is the “Empty Quarter,” is almost as large as the state of Texas. Windswept sand dunes reach as high as a 1,000 feet (300 meters) although much of the desert is flat. Except for the few nomadic groups who travel through it, the Rub al Khali is primarily uninhabited.

 

Ubar

About 5,000 years ago, the city of Ubar was heralded as one of the wealthiest cities in Arabia. Soaring towers proclaimed the city’s supremacy and mirrored its cultural and financial status.

Ubar, known in the Qu’ran as Irem, was recognized throughout the ancient world for its production of myrrh and frankincense. These fragrances were as highly valued as gold among citizens of the Mediterranean and Near East.

Behind thick, fortified walls lay a maze of homes, shops, and administrative centers, which in the span of just a few days, were buried in a fierce sandstorm around 300 AD. Since its demise, the city has existed in the minds of many as no more than a fable, enshrouded in myth and legend.

It was not until 1992 that archaeologists rediscovered the city and began serious efforts at excavation.

 

Lawrence Of Arabia

Thomas Edward (T.E.) Lawrence was born in Tremadoc, Wales. He attended Oxford University where he studied archaeology and the Near East.

When World War I began, Lawrence was working as an archaeologist for the British government. He was sent to Egypt to head the military intelligence department. Later, as a colonel, he helped organize the Arab revolt against the Ottoman Empire and became passionately devoted to the Arab cause. He won success as a leader of daring guerrilla raids and contributed to the eventual defeat of the Ottoman Empire.

Lawrence refused all honors and decorations, but the Arabs hailed him as a hero and called him ‘the uncrowned king of Arabia’, hence his world famous title, ‘Lawrence of Arabia.’ He described his exploits in Arabia in his book, The Seven Pillars of Wisdom (1926).

In 1922, Lawrence joined the Royal Air Force under the name J.H. Ross. Once his identity was discovered, he transferred to the tank corps as T.E. Shaw. In 1925, he returned to the RAF and legally adopted that name.

In 1935, Lawrence died in a motorcycle accident in Dorset.

 

Erwin Rommel

Erwin Rommel was born in Heidenheim, Germany in 1891. During World War II, he was a German field marshal. Commissioned in 1912, he served with distinction previously in World War I.

A skilled photographer and liaison officer between the army and the Hitler Youth organization during the 1930s, Rommel was promoted to brigadier general in 1939 and was subsequently assigned to Hitler’s headquarters during the Polish campaign.

In 1941, he went to North Africa to lead the German Africa Corps. There he became known as the ‘Desert Fox’ and attained the rank of field marshal.

Rommel was transferred to France in December 1943 to defend the northwestern coast against the expected Allied invasion. Once the landing had succeeded in June 1944, he realized that the war was hopelessly lost and that to condone Hitler’s continuation of it would be irresponsible.

Injured during a strafing attack in July of that same year, Rommel was unable to participate in the attempt to overthrow Hitler, but was greatly implicated. As such, he was given the option of suicide as an alternative to execution as a traitor, which would have endangered the lives of his family and close associates. Thus, on October 14, 1944, Rommel died by his own hand, choosing death by poison.