He stomped back into the mess. 'All right,' he said grimly to Cromwell,
'we'll do ground school then.'
'Not with me, bucko,' Cromwell deferred. 'I've got a schedule to keep with our iron bird. But first I'm going to get some more sleep. Then I'll fill in the missing items we should have put on our checklist.'
'Like what?' Indy demanded.
'For starters, parachutes,' Cromwell said.
'Life jackets,' Foulois added.
'Survival rations,' Cromwell chipped in. 'Never mind. We'll take care of it. I'm sure Miss Parker, now identified as our secret ace flyer, can teach you some of the salient points of aeronautics.'
Colonel Henshaw joined them in the midst of their exchange. He held his coffee mug to warm his hands. 'No schoolwork for you today, Indy.'
'Schoolwork! Is that what you call flight training?'
'Every bird must be dumped from its nest, Professor.' Cromwell smiled.
'We all went through it, Indy,' Henshaw said to mollify the obviously disgruntled Jones. 'I know I did when I was a flight cadet.'
Indy glared at the group. 'Does everyone around here fly except me?'
Tarkiz lifted his head from the next table where he seemed to have been sound asleep. 'Indy, my good friend! You, me, we are only two sane people here. We leave flying to the birds and the crazies. Sensible, no? Allah wants us to fly, we would have airline tickets from heaven.'
Foulois looked at Belem with surprised respect. 'And I always thought the mountain man was a humorless clod.' Indy waved them to silence. 'Harry, what's up?'
'Coded message.' The quiet hung in the room. A coded message and Henshaw's unexpected appearance meant something heavy had come upon them.
'The prefix is notification of a yet unspecified action,' Henshaw continued.
'Some travel, it appears. That's simply to alert us. I mean, you.'
'And?'
'We're decoding the full message. Finish your coffee. We have at least twenty minutes.'
'Who's it from, Harry?'
'First I need to know your handle.'
Eyes locked on Henshaw, then turned to Indy. 'No offense,' Henshaw said quickly. 'Those are your rules.'
Indy smiled. 'Very good, Harry.' He had set up the system with Treadwell.
He wrote the coded 'handle' on a slip of paper and handed it to the army officer.
Henshaw read, Lone Banger. 'Thank you.'
Twenty minutes later they were in the message center. A sergeant handed the decoded sheet to Henshaw, who glanced at the name on top and in turn gave it to Indy.
MUST SEE YOU IN PERSON SOONEST POSSIBLE. FACETOFACE
MEETING IMPERATIVE. WE HAVE RECEIVED OFFER
FROM THE PANARAB ARCHEOLOGICAL INSTITUTE OF JORDAN TO
SELL US AN EXTREMELY RARE
ARTIFACT. DESCRIPTION IS CUBE, METALLIC ORIGIN UNKNOWN, UNDECIPHERED CUNEIFORM MARKINGS, THREE BY THREE INCHES. YOUR
JUDGMENT REQUIRED. FUTURE ACTION REQUIRES YOUR PRESENCE
BEFORE WE RESPOND. ADVISE ASAP WITH TRAVEL PLANS. ST.
JOSEPH.
Indy gave the paper to Henshaw. He read it quickly, then looked up with a puzzled expression. 'St. Joseph?'
'That's St. Joseph of Copertino. A monk who could levitate. It's the handle for Castilano.'
'He's one of us?' Henshaw was wideeyed.
'Sure is. Harry, they want me there now. I want Gale along as another set of eyes, with Tarkiz for backup. How long will it take the Ford to make it to New York? That seems like the fastest way.'
'No dice, Indy. Even the birds are walking. That weather front, and it's a mean one, has stalled out over this area. I can get you two compartments on the Silver Streak Special. Fastest train in the country. It leaves this afternoon and you'll be in New York tomorrow morning. I can also have private transportation arranged. I'll have the details ready for you in an hour.'
Indy nodded. 'Thanks. Do it.'
'You,' Indy said through gritted teeth, 'are sleeping with me.'
Gale responded with a joke. 'Do I take that as an order or an invitation?'
'You know what I mean,' Indy snapped back. 'I don't want you sleeping alone.'
'So I gathered. But your technique is somewhat Stone Age, just in case you're interested.'
'Confound it, woman, I'm not asking you to sleep with me!'
Gale studied her nails. 'You could have fooled me.'
