Jack Mills and the Tomb of Baldur Bjornson (M+/M+) [conclusion posted 4-11-21]

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Jack Mills and the Tomb of Baldur Bjornson (M+/M+) [conclusion posted 4-11-21]

Post by wataru14 »

It's been a while since I've written anything, but I've been inspired to write a new story. This one is kind of an "expanded universe" tale that will touch on my other stories. My own personal MCU, if you will. Updates probably won't be as quick as previous stories, but I plan on adding to it regularly. Hope you enjoy!

Part One: Graduate Studies

I had known there was something special about Professor Mills when I first met him at my undergrad orientation. Most of the faculty in the history department were as old and fossilized as the time periods they studied, with huge pompous attitudes to match. But not him. He was warm and inviting, with a big genuine smile. Being somewhere in his early 40’s, he was 20 years younger than his colleagues in the department. And in great shape! The others all looked like a strong wind could knock them over, but Jack looked like he could wrestle a gorilla! But it was his hands that stuck out the most, to me. They were hard and calloused, not from years of turning dusty pages, but from extensive work in the field: excavating lost sites and hacking through the underbrush. Everyone told me I hit the jackpot landing him as my advisor and I was inclined to agree.

After our first meeting in his office, I ran out and bought all of his books. This was real history! Original research on the original artifacts in the original sites! Finally, I found someone who shared my love of history and saw it as a living, breathing thing. Not words on a page, but a beast to be tamed. Four years later, he accepted my request to be my graduate advisor and I was serving as his T.A. while he guided my thesis project. My focus was 10th-11th Century Europe, an era that held special fascination for him, as well. It was a match made in academic heaven!

In the spring of my first year of graduate school, Jack (he hated formality and always demanded I call him by his first name) texted me and called me in for a special meeting. He said he had big news and that I would want to hear it in person. He preferred to have meetings with me at his home, rather than the office. It was a welcome change from the other professors in their stuffy offices with equally stuffy personalities. Usually, Jack and I would discuss our research over beers while working on one of his cars. Unorthodox, to be sure, but an amazingly effective teaching tool.

I pulled up to his house and saw his jeep in the driveway. It was dirty and dented, but the engine ran like a dream thanks to repeated “study” sessions. No one answered the door when I knocked, but this wasn’t unusual. Often he’d be in his study or workshop and couldn’t hear, so he had no qualms about me letting myself in. I got a bit of a weird feeling as I opened the door, almost like we weren't alone, but I shrugged it off.

“Jack?” I called out as I stepped into the foyer. “It’s me, Sean.”

“Ah, Seany-boy!” he replied from the depths of the house. “Get your ass in here! You’re gonna die when you see this!”

Heeding his call, I dropped by bookbag on the side table and walked into his office. He was pouring two glasses of bourbon and trying unsuccessfully to hide his excitement. A large manila folder was on the desk, stuffed with papers and what looked like photos.

“What up, Prof?” I said, dropping on my favorite leather-seated desk chair with a whoosh. It always made a fart sound when the air was pressed out of the cushion and it always made me laugh.

Grinning at the sound, Jack handed me a glass with a smirk. “What are you, twelve?” he scolded, chuckling at the same time. “Every damn time you come in here.”

I took a sip and said, “It’s part of my charm, Prof. Now where’s the fire? Your text made me think you were going to burst with excitement.”

He slid the folder over to me and said, “Open that puppy up and take a look.”

I opened the folder and the first photo was of what looked like a barrow entrance in the earth. There were snow-covered pine trees in the background. The next photo was the inside of a burial chamber. 10th Century Nordic by the look of it.

“What’s this?” I asked, scanning the photo. “Did they find a new Viking cairn?”

“Did they ever!” Jack said. “Read the Runes.”

I squinted and looked at the Runic writing on the walls. I got a sudden shock.

“Wait!” I sputtered. “Does that say what I think it says?”

“Sure does,” Jack said with a big smile on his face. “That is the tomb of Baldur Bjornson.”

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed, nearly dropping the photo from the excitement. “Is it legit???”

“All the signs point to yes,” Jack said, taking a sip. “My Norwegian colleagues found it on an island off the western coast a week ago. They’ve kept the discovery under wraps so far, but sent me this dossier as a special favor.”

My hands shook. This was the find of the century! If it was the actual tomb of Baldur Bjornson…

Now, I’m getting a little ahead of myself, here. First a little background. Baldur Bjornson was a legendary figure in Viking history. English by birth, he was enslaved in a raid off the Northumbrian coast in 874 A.D. Shortly after his captivity started, he challenged his master in the sacred combat known as Holmgang and won his freedom. From there he started a legendary career as a raider, becoming the subject of sagas and stories still told today. Interest in him was made even higher last year when Brute Squad Films made an Oscar-winning biopic about him. History says he died of plague in 902 A.D. but there were no records of anything after that. Scholars believe he was entombed rather than burned when he died, but no cairn was ever found. Until now.

“I… don’t believe it!” I stammered.

Jack just smiled. “Sounds like pretty good material for a doctoral thesis, don’t it?” he said, grinning and taking another sip of his whiskey. “Take a look at the bottom of the pile.”

I sifted through the papers and photos, finally coming to a sealed envelope. Jack nodded and I tore it open, revealing two first-class plane tickets to Norway!

“I’m scheduled to give a symposium at the Metro City Museum in a few weeks, but there’s enough time for a little vacation before that,” Jack said. “Can you clear your schedule?”

“Are you kidding?” I said, overflowing with excitement. “This is the chance of a lifetime! When do we leave?”

“Two days from now,” Jack said. “My colleagues will meet us at the Oslo airport and then we’re off to the tomb.”

Just then a voice came from the doorway. “Unfortunately, your travel plans have hit an unexpected delay!”

Standing in the door were three men in combat fatigues and ski masks. They were holding automatic weapons aimed right at us. The masks each had goggles embedded in them and a strange eye symbol embroidered on the forehead.

Jack’s eyes instinctively darted to the desk drawer where he always kept his hidden gun, but the leader of the invaders said, “Don’t even think about it, Professor Mills. My X-ray goggles can see the gun in the drawer. Make a move towards it and your teaching assistant will be going to Switzerland, not Norway. As cheese!”

There was a heavy beat as the two other raiders turned their heads disappointedly towards their leader. “Yes, well, anyway,” he said awkwardly. “Hands up, both of you. Slowly get up from the desk and walk over to the wall, one at a time. You first, junior.”

My heart was beating out of my chest as I put the folder down and stood up. The leader indicated the bookshelf to my left with the barrel of his gun and I slowly walked over to it face-first with hands raised. Jack kept a steely gaze as I was shoved from behind, pressing up against the bookshelf with a grunt. Rough hands darted in and out of my pockets, removing all the contents and dropping them on the desk. All the time, Jack remained clam and collected. How could he be so nonchalant? We were being held at gunpoint by masked thugs! “Has this sort of thing happened to him before?” I wondered.

My thoughts were interrupted as I felt a leather-gloved hand grab each of my wrists and wrench them uncomfortably behind my back. They placed my wrists in a crossed position over each other. Scared out of my wits, I didn’t resist, or even dare to move a hair when the hands pulled away. Almost immediately after, I felt a smooth, silky rope being looped around my wrists and pulled tight, pressing my wrists together. The rope wasn’t course or rough like twine or clothesline, though. It actually felt… kinda nice. My captor made about three or four snug loops and then twisted the rope into a small knot. Then I felt it being turned and wrapped crosswise. It was threaded over and through the existing loops, making a super-secure prison for my hands. I could barely breathe, but I felt an odd stirring down below. Now? Really? Come on brain, this was no time for a surprise boner!

Once my hands were fully secured and the final knots were tied, I instinctively squirmed a little. The ropes brushed against the skin of my wrists, but it didn’t chafe at all. It was firm, but comfortable. An almost pleasing sensation, and not at all what I expected. I didn’t have much time to enjoy the feeling, though, as I was grabbed an pulled from the wall by one of our captors and held in a tight grip with a gun to my head.

“Now, Professor Mills,” the leader said, “it’s your turn. And if you try anything… absolutely anything at all, your assistant here will pay dearly for it.”

Jack scowled and stood up, his hands over his head. “I know how this works,” he scoffed. “Don’t worry.” He stepped out from behind the desk and winced as one of the masked men swooped behind him and pulled his arms behind his back. I watched in awe at his stern resolve as he was expertly made helpless by the invader’s sturdy ropes. His rugged face, peppered with several days’ stubble, contorted slightly as the knots were made extra tight. Apparently, they were taking a lot more precautions with him than they were with me.

“Your reputation for escape is legendary, Professor Mills,” the leader said. “But cast all thoughts of that out of your mind. This rope is a special gift to our employer from a dear, departed friend. Completely escape-proof and tested to withstand the might of those FAR stronger than you.” Jack tested his bonds as I had done, contorting his body in an attempt to slip the ropes that bound his hands. But it was useless, I saw the look of defeat wash over his face as Jack realized he was caught for good.

“Are you quite finished?” the leader said. “Good.” He motioned to his subordinates and Jack and I were both shoved roughly into the two chairs on the near side of the desk. The leader started examining the documents while his companions held us at gunpoint.

“Ah,” he said. “Proverbial paydirt! Pardon the archaeology pun, if you please. Our employer will be most pleased with this find.” The leader activated a device on his watch and a small, blurry hologram of a shadowy figure appeared in the air. “Glinda, this is Tin Man reporting in. Mission successful. We have the Ruby Slippers.”

The voice of the hologram was garbled and distorted, but I could make out its words. “Excellent, Tin Man. What about Dorothy and Toto?”

“We have them both secured,” Tin Man said.

“Maqnifique!” the hologram replied. “Get them both ready for transport. We’ll need their expertise as we travel the Yellow Brick Road. Be gentle with Toto. But make sure Dorothy is quite inconvenienced. She has meddled in my affairs too long and I want to make her pay in the most petty way possible. Glinda out!” The hologram faded away.

“You heard the boss,” Tin Man barked. “Get these two ready for travel.” I heard evil chuckles from behind and almost immediately felt a thick ball of cloth being stuffed in my mouth. My eyes turned to Jack, who gave me a look that said “it’s OK, just be strong” as his mouth was also stuffed. Feeling a little less afraid, I sat firm as duct tape was peeled off a roll and wrapped around my head. Five, six, seven times around it went, completely sealing my mouth. I attempted to call out to Jack, but all that came out was “mmpppgghhh.” Next to me, Jack was being similarly gagged.

Once we were secured to Tin Man’s satisfaction, he grabbed the dossier, headed for the door, and snapped his fingers. I felt rough hands grab my shoulders and pull me up from the chair. I was spun to face the door and started walking after Tin Man into the hall. Heavy booted steps fell in line behind me, followed by the scuffling sound of Jack and his captor. Where were they taking us? And why? And why did Jack act like he thought this was no big deal? It seemed like old hat to him. Maybe there was more to the Prof’s career than I had previously thought. But there was no time to think about that now. We were prisoners and there was nothing to do but see this through to the end.

Coming Soon – Part 2: Magic Carpet Ride
Last edited by wataru14 3 years ago, edited 14 times in total.
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Post by cj2125 »

Nice to see another one of your stories! And this one has already caught my interest! Can't wait to see what's in store for Jack and Sean!
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Post by Volobond »

Yeeeeee, the references are so good! I'm excited to find out about Jack's past - and see how "Dorothy" will be inconvenienced!
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Omigod! [mention] wataru14[/mention]

What a great Christmas gift. I always looked forward to having Christmas Week off and going to see adventure/thrillers at the movies like "Raiders of the Lost Ark." Now with Covid making theatre visits a No-No, you come back with Part One of what will, I am positive, prove to be a thriller of thrillers..."A Raiders of the Lost Ark"-like adventure combined with lots of guys getting tied up, gagged, and aroused -- just like I do! :D :D

What A Merry Christmas! 🎄

You are The Man! 👍👍👍👍
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

This wasn't how I thought you'd connect to your other stories but modern scholars studying Baldur is a great fanservice.

As usual, you nailed the action-adventure tone and I'm already loving Jack and Sean. Really looking forward for the rest!
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Post by stimle »

Color me completely hooked! I can't wait for the next part!
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Post by wataru14 »

Thanks for the praise, guys. It feels good to be writing again.

And for those who've read my other works, any guesses as to who "Glinda" is? ;)
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Post by Volobond »

I'm almost certain that Glinda is actually...
► Show Spoiler
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

I'm with [mention]Volobond[/mention] on his guess. ;)
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Post by MountainMan_91 »

This is awesome!

Good job. Excited for the next part!
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Post by cj2125 »

I am with [mention]Volobond[/mention] too! 😁
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Post by wataru14 »

Part 2: Magic Carpet Ride

Tin Man strode through the house with a pleased swagger to his walk. He opened the door and walked outside like escorting two bound and gagged men was the most normal thing in the world. The neighbors were watering their lawns and collecting the mail like any other day. Like nothing at all was amiss Paying absolutely no attention to our little group.

“Perception blocker,” Tin Man said, slapping me playfully in the chest. “They think we’re plumbers.” He slid open the door of the hot pink van parked in the street outside Jack’s house and grabbed me by my shirt collar. With an allez-oop he tossed me inside on top of the shag carpet. Jack needed no such escort and calmly stepped up on the running board and got himself inside.

Once we were both in, Tin Man got in the driver’s seat and the other two henchmen hopped aboard. They closed the van door behind them and we started rolling. I tried to wriggle up into a sitting position, but a black leather combat boot pressed against my back and forced me down face-first. I squirmed under the pressure.

“Careful, Lion,” the other henchman said. He had already gotten to work tying Jack’s ankles together. “Don’t get carried away. The boss says to be gentle with the kid.”

“I’m just having some fun, Scarecrow,” the man with his boot on my back said. “I ain’t gonna leave no marks.”

“Well, a little less fun and a little more rope would be better,” Scarecrow said, tossing a bale of the silky rope to his partner. We gotta get these two ready for shipment. Norway’s a long flight, you know.”

Lion caught the rope with one leather-gloved hand and removed his boot. “I’m gonna finish tying you up, kid,” he said “and you’re gonna lay there real quiet-like and let me do it. Cause if you resist it’s gonna be a lot worse for you. You got it?”

I nodded and gave a muffled, “mm-hmm.” Underneath me, pressed into the soft carpet by my body weight, my arousal was definitely growing. Why was this exciting me? This was extremely dangerous and frightening! I should be quivering in terror, not… enjoying myself. I was so busy contemplating my state I didn’t even notice Lion kicking my legs together and roping my ankles snugly. I was jarred back to awareness as he went to work binding my legs at the knees. A little ways away, Jack was already in a sitting position with his bound legs stretched out in front of him. Scarecrow knelt behind him and was encircling his thick torso in more rope.

I watched in awe as my professor was restrained in front of me. The rope was pulled tight against his chest. I never really noticed how broad it was before! His arms were pressed against his sides as the rope tightened, causing his biceps to strain. I never noticed how big they were before! He let out a few muffled grunts here and there as the rope was secured, tightened and harnessed into place with expert precision, but it was more out of frustration at our situation than any actual pain.

All I could do was look at him and marvel at his stoic resolve. In a half-daze I was hauled up by Lion and started receiving my own upper-body bindings. I vainly squirmed a little as the study rope encircled my chest and arms. Four or five passes around pressed my arms tightly against my side. More ropes were threaded vertically through the negligible space between my arms and ribcage, assuring that I would not be able to slip out of the bindings. Within seconds, my entire upper body was hopelessly immobilized. My heart rate was going a mile a minute and my chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. Jack gave me a calming glance from across as we were both slid against the opposite walls of the van and secured to it with buckled straps. I began to feel a little better, but not completely.

“Looks like the kid’s about to have a heart attack,” Scarecrow said, coming over to me. “Whassamatter, kid? First time at the rodeo? If you’re working with that one over there I’m surprised you haven’t been bushwhacked a hundred times already. Lord knows he gets into enough scrapes to last a lifetime.”

Jack struggled and gave a grunt that could only mean “leave him alone,” but Scarecrow just laughed. “Don’t worry, bucko, the kid’s safe. As long as you behave yourself.” Satisfied somewhat, Jack settled down. “Now, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us and I have a whole season of The Mandalorian to catch up on. So both of you do me a favor and take deep breaths.”

Scarecrow took a nebulizer device out of his pocket and sprayed me in the face with some sort of pink mist. Reflexively, I winced and gasped in an attempt to hold my breath. Bad move. As soon as I breathed in the fumes I started to get lightheaded. I watched in wonderment as the world before me started to spin and change colors. I saw Jack’s eyes fluttering across from me as he breathed in the pink (or was it green?) mist as well. Then everything went dark.

I awoke not feeling like myself. The first thing I noticed was that it was hot. Very hot. And humid. I felt a pinch on my neck and instinctively swatted it. Wait, aren’t my hands tied behind my back? When I pulled it back, a mosquito that would give Godzilla a fright was crumpled in my hand. My hand? Wait, that wasn’t my hand! In a panic, I looked around and realized I was sitting in a jeep driving through the jungle and not the rococo van I passed out in. A quick look into the mirror gave me the shock of a lifetime.

I saw Jack’s face staring back at me. Only 15 years younger. He (I?) was dressed in explorer khakis and a boonie hat and a gun was holstered at my waist. The driver, a middle-aged Latino man, looked over and laughed. “You got a big one, senor,” he said. “Filthy flying pendejos they are.”

“Uh, yeah, they certainly are,” I said… in Jack’s voice.

The jeep stopped. “Well, amigo, this is as far as I go. The pyramid is two kilometers west. I’ll be back at this spot in two days, like we agreed.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” I said, hopping out of the jeep and picking up my supply pack. How did I know his name? “See you soon, my friend.”

Garcia waved and drove back down the dirt road. I started walking for a bit, keeping to the safety of the jungle canopy, but stopped when I heard the sound of movement nearby. I took out my gun and pressed against a tree for cover. About 50 feet away was a young man in combat fatigues carrying a rifle. He was patrolling the jungle, but it looks like he hadn’t noticed me yet.

“Damn!” I thought. Looks like they beat me here. “I’ll have to change my plan.” With the stealth of a jaguar I crept through the underbrush, keeping just out of the man’s sight and making no sound. How did I know how to do that? I usually tripped over my own feet in an empty hallway. Closer and closer I crept towards the sentry, who was scanning the jungle to his left and right in wide sweeps. He didn’t think to look behind him, much to his misfortune.

With lightning speed I lunged out from behind him and caught the man in a tight sleeper hold. His rifle fell harmlessly to the ground as his arms flailed wildly, trying to dislodge my grip. But it was no use. Jack/I was too strong and the grip was too solid. After a few seconds his body went limp and he fell unconscious in my arms. “Sweet dreams,” I taunted, setting the sleeping guard down on the jungle floor. Looking him over, I came to a quick realization. “Say, we’re the same size,” I thought. “What luck!”

After quickly checking for any other soldiers nearby, I got to work stripping my captive. First I removed his camouflage shirt. “Hmmm,” I said. “Doesn’t have the build or tattoos of a merc or career thug. He must be some hapless local that got paid to patrol the area.” I removed my own sweat-soaked shirt and switched it with his. But I took a second to marvel at young Jack’s athletic and sculpted body (and even copped a quick feel of my new pecs and abs) before slipping the camo shirt on. It was a bit tight, but it would do.

Next I slid off the unconscious guard’s combat boots and placed them off to the side. They were a little small, but not so much that I wouldn’t be able to use them. Finally I undid his belt and slid his camo cargo pants off him. He stirred a little at the feeling of the jungle air against his undressed body, but remained asleep. “Thanks for the disguise, pal,” I said, removing my own pants and slipping his on. After a few minutes I was clad in the guard’s camos and boots and he was lying in the jungle dirt in only his briefs and socks.

“You’ll probably run home when you wake up,” I said to my unconscious captive, “but no sense in taking chances.” I dragged him over to a small tree and sat him up with his bare back against it. I reached into his supply pack and found several lengths of coarse rope, cut to specific lengths. “I guess this was meant to be used on anyone you found snooping around in the jungle… me, for example” I laughed. “Well, I hope you appreciate irony, compadre.” I knelt behind the tree and pulled the man’s hands back around the trunk. Quickly I lashed his wrists together behind the tree. I didn’t do a fantastic job of tying him, though. I did want him to be able to get free when he awoke. No sense in leaving him to be panther chow when he was just here for the paycheck.

Satisfied at my ropework, I grabbed a sweaty bandana from the pack and cinched it between his teeth. Not the most effective gag, but it’d do for now. I had wasted too much time already. With my restraint job complete, I stood up, tapping the sleeping man lightly on the shoulder. “No hard feelings, amigo.” I left a full canteen of water on the ground next to him and ran off down the jungle path.

After a few minutes, I saw the Great Pyramid of Kukulcán rising above the treeline. Thought to have been lost forever, it had recently been uncovered by locals and the Mexican government was paying me handsomely to scout it out and catalogue the artifacts inside for study before looters could get to them. “There’s a motherlode of history about the Mayan people in there,” I thought. “And I’ll be damned if it’s going to end up in some private collection somewhere.”

I was so engrossed in the splendor of the pyramid that I wasn’t paying close attention to my surroundings. Rookie mistake. Jack never would have made it, but since I seemed to be “driving” right now, I guess them’s the breaks. I took a few steps and didn’t feel the difference in the composition of the ground under me until it was too late.

I let out a loud shout of surprise as the earth beneath my feet suddenly moved. Hidden under the foliage and mud was a woven hemp net that was flying upwards with dizzying speed. The cords of the net were more than an inch thick and reinforced with resin. I fell flat on my back by the unexpected movement and was lifted up off the ground with blinding speed. In less than two seconds I was hopelessly tangled up in the net, both arms sticking out of different holes at odd angles and my feet up over my head. The clanking of cans tied to strings echoed through the jungle as I came to a stop nearly ten feet in the air, suspended from the branches of the jungle trees.

I tried reaching for the bowie knife on my belt, but I couldn’t reach it in the position I was in. If I could reach it I could attempt to cut the net and escape to the safety of the underbrush before any guards arrived. But it was useless. With my arms contorted as they were there was no chance of me reaching it. I was caught. And good! “Shit!” I said aloud.

“No, gringo,” I heard from somewhere beneath me. “In these parts it’s pronounced ‘mierda.’”

Coming Soon: Part 3 – The Lost Pyramid of Kukulcán
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

A story within the story...I love that, [mention]wataru14[/mention]
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

Now that's an interesting framing device. With how chill his captors are, it's a great opportunity for the narrator to learn more about his teacher, even if he's gagged. :D
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Post by Volobond »

Oooh, how fascinating! Excited to learn more - and of course the hunky professor makes me weak in the knees!
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Post by cj2125 »

That took an interesting turn! And added new questions to the plot! Why is Sean experiencing Jack's memories? And what's Jack's backstory? (also I could bet heavily on who Glinda is by this point! That pink van! :lol: )

I'm really enjoying it! I love your writting style rich in detail but with certain humor that makes entertaining to read! And the rope scenes are really good, even the simple ones! Will be waiting for the next part!
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Post by MountainMan_91 »

exceptional!

Such a creative twist.

I wonder if the flashback will give Sean some insights to use in his current predicament. :D
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Post by wataru14 »

Part 3 – The Lost Pyramid of Kukulcán

Looking down as best I could, I saw a platoon of five armed men. And these were no local clockpunchers. These were the real deal. Their rifles were trained on me with military precision, so I dared not move a muscle as the net was detached from its moorings and lowered to the ground. Sprawled out on my back in the wet mud, I watched them descend on me. After disentangling me from the net, they moved like a blur. I was dragged to my feet, held fast by two pairs of strong hands, and thoroughly searched. I watched helplessly as my gun and knife were confiscated and one of the soldiers approached me with a bale of hempen rope in his hands.

The men holding me shoved me face-first against a tree so hard it knocked the wind out of me. They pulled my arms back with such force I thought they would dislocate my shoulders. The rope was coarse and rough, and it chafed and cut into the skin of my wrists as it was applied. My hands were lashed behind my back impossibly tightly. They tingled for a second, and then went numb. If these ropes were on me too long I could get nerve damage! Once I was sufficiently restrained, the men took turns punching and kicking me for sport. First in the gut, and then a blow to the face when I doubled over. After a minute or two of this, I was in a quivering heap on the jungle floor.

One of them laughed and scooped me up in his arms, tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. My body ached as I was carried through the jungle to the waiting pyramid. With each uneven step, I bounced on the man’s broad shoulder, causing me to wince and moan in pain. But my captors only laughed at my discomfort. Soon we were ascending a stone staircase and entered into a dark chamber that smelled of death and decay. I was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor and slid against the stone wall.

“Stay out of the way and don’t cause any trouble, gringo, and you might live through this,” one of the soldiers said. He walked away and started conversing with strange men in business suits on the other side of the chamber. Ever so often, one would look in my direction and point, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Here and there, I could see soldiers and laborers carrying crates and piling them up by the entrance. So they had already started looting! I had to find a way to stop them. But how?

I twisted my arms behind my back, trying to restore some sensation. There was no give or slack in the ropes I was bound with, though, and every movement caused painful abrasions on my skin. But I wouldn’t give up. Just then, I found my salvation! A small flaw in the stonework behind me gave way, revealing a sharp edge on a broken stone! I had to be careful. No one was paying me too much attention, but I was being watched now and then. If I wriggled too much, someone would figure out what I was doing and then I'd be in worse trouble. Carefully I began to rub the ropes against the stone edge. It was slow going, but after a few minutes I could feel the rope fraying. Just a bit more…

I stopped short as two soldiers and a suited man approached me. Holding my breath, I waited to see if they suspected my almost-successful escape attempt.

“Greetings, Mr. Mills,” the suited man said in an upper-class British accent. “We’ve never met in person, but I know you quite well by reputation. My name is Mr. Carothers and I am a… connoisseur of antiquities.”

“You mean a grave robber and a thief,” I said defiantly. Where did that come from? “This temple and its contents belong to the Mexican people. You have no right to anything here.”

“Ah yes,” Carothers said annoyedly. “Your much-fabled nobility comes to the surface. How droll. I was going to offer you a position with my organization and release you from your bonds, you know. Pays far better than teaching. But I can see there is little interest. Well, regardless of what you may think, Mr. Mills, might makes right. And I control the purse strings, so that gives me all the might I require. But I grow bored of this conversation already. We’ll be done in a few hours and, bound and helpless as you are, you are in no position to stop me. So there is little point in engaging with you any further.”

Carothers snapped his fingers. “Men,” he said. “Take Mr. Mills to the sacrificial chamber and strap him down tightly to the altar. The Mayans were quite efficient at the bloody practice and I wish to test out some of their methods on Mr. Mills here for sport when we are ready to leave. Take him away!”

Carothers turned on his heels and walked off. His two guards grabbed me and hoisted me off the floor. One started walking down a corridor and I was shoved behind him by his partner, who fell into step behind me. My only hope was that they didn’t notice the frayed rope around my wrists. I clutched my hands together in an attempt to disguise the damage to the ropes. But I had to be careful. Too much and they would get suspicious. Too little and they would see how close I was to escape. Carefully...

Once we were a ways down the corridor, I got an odd feeling. Almost like floating, even though I was walking on the cold stone floor. I started to feel like I wasn’t in control anymore. Suddenly my body started moving of its own accord! My hands pulled apart, snapping the frayed ropes binding them with ease. With blinding speed I grabbed the man in front of me and smashed him face-first against the stone wall, knocking him out cold. I whirled around and dove at the incredulous guard behind me. Before he could shout for help I had socked him square in the jaw. He hit the floor, unconscious as well.

Wasting no time, I grabbed my two erstwhile captors and dragged them by their booted ankles into a side chamber before anyone came looking. Grabbing some extra rope from their belts, I quickly descended on the two guards. After lashing their wrists behind their backs, I sat them back-to-back and encircled rope around their torsos, tightly securing them together. Then I dragged them over to a column and tied their ankles, then secured them to the column so they couldn’t wriggle into the hall and alert any others.

I quickly removed my shirt and tore it into strips, which I used to tightly gag and thoroughly blindfold my captors. Satisfied that they wouldn’t be going anywhere when they woke up, I grabbed their guns and silently crept back to the hall. “OK, Carothers,” I whispered, “time to shut this little operation of yours down for good.”

My vision suddenly became clouded and a few seconds later I blinked and found myself back in my own body in the rear of the van. Jack was watching me expectantly from across. I don’t know how long I had been out, but it was dark outside the van windows. Tin Man was still driving, but our two other captors were fast asleep.

Jack started to exaggeratedly squirm in his ropes. Taking his cue, I began to feel around behind me for some slack in my bindings. My fingers explored the ropes encircling my wrists behind my back with no success, but then… wait? What was this? Similar to the stone wall in my vision, I noticed a flaw in the van wall. A screw that held the paneling down was loose enough for me to pry out with my fingers! Slowly I turned it, pulling upwards, until it dislodged. Keeping my excitement in check, I grasped the screw in my fingers and started sawing away at the ropes.

Once or twice I stopped as our snoring guards stirred a bit, but resumed when they drifted back off to sleep. It seemed to take forever, but after a few minutes I felt the ropes unwrap and drop away from my wrists. Across from me, Jack had already removed the ropes from his chest and was silently working on freeing his ankles. My heart was beating out of my chest as I managed to wriggle out of the chest harness and undid the knot around my ankles. Jack was now on all fours, crawling slowly towards the front of the van. He hadn’t bothered to remove the tape from his mouth yet.

When I was free, I looked up to him, but he made a hand gesture that told me to stop. Then he pointed towards the handle of the van door beside me. Understanding what he meant, I nodded and reached up, waiting for his signal. With catlike stealth, Jack reached into the front and swiped the folder of documents from the passenger seat without the driver even noticing! As he crept back to me, his eyes indicated the handle and he nodded.

Taking my cue, I opened the van door. “What the???” the driver shouted as he felt the blast of cold, night air. Jack pounced and lept out the door, holding the folder in one hand. He grabbed me with his free hand and we bailed out the side door of the van. Jack did a tuck-and-roll in the air and we came to a reasonably soft landing on the grass on the side of the highway. Ahead of us, the van skidded to a halt. Jack pointed at the woods lining the road and started running at top speed. We were both still gagged, but even without words I knew what he meant. Without a second thought I raced after him and we were soon swallowed up by the foliage.

Coming Soon – Part 4: On the Run
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cj2125
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Post by cj2125 »

Another great part [mention]wataru14[/mention]! I really enjoyed reading both past and present escapes, I could pictured it in my head like a movie! Now I'm really interested! Did Jack somehow was directly involved in Sean's vision? I have to know!
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

Jack's resourcefulness is really fun to read in both past and present. Following two storylines at the same time was a unique experience and I'm curious how they'll connect.

As a side note, I loved the image of Jackvand Sean running unbound but tightly gagged. So hot. :D
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Post by Volobond »

DeeperThanRed wrote: 3 years ago As a side note, I loved the image of Jack and Sean running unbound but tightly gagged. So hot. :D
I agree! A super hot image! And I get the feeling older Professor Jack is just as hot as his younger self ;) In any event, another chapter that was equal parts titillating, thrilling, and intriguing!
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Love a good breakout, especially when the escapees are recaptured! :evil:
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Post by wataru14 »

Part 4: On the Run

My heart was pounding a mile a minute as we raced through the woods. Jack was leaping over stumps and dodging branches like he was Tarzan and I was barely able to keep up. We ran and ran for what felt like ever, constantly doubling back and changing directions erratically. I have no long it was before Jack finally stopped, but I felt like I was going to have a heart attack.

When Jack finally came to a stop, he looked around cautiously and listened for a minute, then slumped down against a tree. I did the same, glad to finally get some rest. Both of us immediately went to work removing the tape from our mouths. I could feel the sticky adhesive pulling the skin of my cheeks as I peeled it back with a dull “squelch.” When it was all off I balled it up into a single mass and removed the soggy cloth from my jaws. I was about to toss them both aside when Jack stopped me.

“No,” he said. “Don’t leave those behind. It will be evidence we were here if they’re tracking us.”

“Who were those guys?” I asked, trying to catch my breath. I was an academic, not a marathon runner, after all!

“Agents of someone that I have a long and complicated relationship with,” Jack said. “I’ve crossed their boss on many occasions in the past and he sent those goons to collect my data on Bjornson’s Tomb. And us as well, apparently.”

“What do you mean ‘crossed on many occasions?’” I asked. “You’re a teacher. Is he some kind of academic rival? Trying to scoop you on the discovery.”

Jack was definitely hiding something. “Not like that,” he said. “I am a teacher, yes, but I have a long history of… work in the field. You know this, but I don’t think you quite know the depth of my ‘hands-on’ experience. I’m somewhat of an… internationally renowned explorer and artifact hunter. But only for the public good. I work for museums and universities, not the private sector.”

“Like the British Museum?” I said. “Most of the stuff they have is…”

“No, not like them,” Jack snapped. “I work for the local governments of the places the artifacts were found. Egypt, Mexico, Cambodia… places like that. Not for pirates.”

“Mexico…” I said. “Like the Lost Pyramid of Kukulcân?”

Jack was silent for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “Like that.”

At that moment I knew that he knew that I had “seen” those events.

“So do you mind telling me just what in the hell happened to me in that van?” I said.

Jack started to unbutton his shirt. I was puzzled until he lifted his undershirt and I saw an intricate brand on his upper chest. “This is the symbol of the Mesopotamian goddess Nishaba. Patroness of writing and knowledge. I am her chosen.”

“What?” I was dumbfounded. “So YOU did that to me? How? Some kind of Babylonian magic?”

“Actually, yes,” he said. “I serve Nishaba by helping to preserve the knowledge of the past, and in exchange she gives me certain… abilities.” Jack covered himself back up. “I can read and speak any language and have perfect memory, among other minor things. But that particular trick is special. I can cause people to relive certain moments in the past. But only if they’re the right people.”

“’The right people?’” I asked. “What does that mean?”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Jack said. “I don’t think they’re following us at the moment. They didn’t look like the hack-and-slash through the woods types to me. But they’ll be back with people who are. We should be safe for the night, but we need to find civilization in the morning.” Jack stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants. “We need to find shelter. It’s going to be cold tonight.”

My mind was in a daze. My professor was apparently some kind of adventure hero serving an obscure Babylonian goddess? Was this really happening? I got up and hurried off after Jack before he disappeared into the trees. He wouldn’t answer any of my questions as we walked, saying he needed to concentrate. I grumbled, but gave him his space. After about an hour we found a stream near a rocky incline and there was a small cave in the stone.

“We’ll bunker down in there until sunrise,” Jack said. “It’ll be tight, but we’ll fit. No fire, though. It’ll give our position away and we don’t have anything to start one with anyway.” He turned out his empty pockets for evidence.

“I guess,” I glumly said. I hadn’t camped out at night since the Scouts when I was 12. Jack got on his belly and crawled into the cave, so I followed suit. Inside was dry, and reasonably warm, but tiny. There was barely room for both of us.

Jack had wedged himself against the far wall and held his arms out. “Come close to me,” he said. “Temperature outside is dropping and neither of us have coats. We’ll need to share body heat.”

With a puzzled look on my face, I crawled closer to him. Jack reached out and grabbed me, pulling me tight against his chest. I could feel his warmth radiating through me. “Try to get some sleep,” he said, wrapping his arms and legs around me. “We only have a few hours till sunrise.”

-----------

Being so close to Jack helped fend off the night chill and we awoke at sunup. No sign of our pursuers, but Jack warned not to be complacent. They could still be out there, so we needed to be on our guard. We followed the stream as it would be the best chance to find civilization, but it also brought the highest chance of being discovered. After a few hours, we saw the tree cover thin out and a wooden stockade fence came into view.

“Some kind of old military fort?” I asked. “Revolutionary War perhaps?”

“Maybe,” Jack said doubtfully. “But I don’t think so. Based on the trees present I think we went farther west. Not many forts out here. We should be careful.”

“Yep, you should,” we heard from behind us. Before we bolt or even turn around, a bullet rang out and hit the ground at my feet. Looking around, I saw a squad of about five or six men melting out of the trees like ninjas. They were wearing camouflage and carrying assault rifles.

“You’re trespassing,” one said. “This is private land owned by the Sovereign Citizens of Free Cumberland. What are you doing here?”

“There were no signs,” Jack said. “We got lost in the woods and are trying to get back to the road. We don’t want to disturb you and just want to be on our way.”

The men moved closer. “Uh huh,” the leader said. “Sounds like a good story. One we’ve heard plenty of times before.” One of them grabbed the folder from Jack’s hand and started rifling through it.

“Hey Bobby,” he called, “Look at this.”

He showed the leader the pictures and there was silence as Bobby read. “What’s all this?” he asked.

“I’m a college professor and this is my student,” Jack said. “We were on our way to Norway to examine a new find and got sidetracked.”

“One of those liberal academic types, eh?” Bobby said, spitting into the dirt. “We don’t like that type much ‘round here.” Both of us said nothing as he kept looking through the papers. Suddenly he stopped and held up a document from the packet. “And what’s this?”

The document was stamped by the U.S. Department of State. “That is authorization from the U.S. government to travel to Norway with security credentials,” Jack said.

“I knew it!” Bobby said. “You’re a fed!”

“I have worked with them in the past,” Jack said, “but I am not a federal employee. We just have an intermittent agreement.

Bobby smashed Jack in the stomach with the butt of his rifle. “Shut yer damn mouth, you lousy lyin’ fed!” he barked. “Clay! Cole! Get these two wrapped up!” Two men advanced towards us with military-grade cable ties. “You are under arrest by the Sovereign State of Free Cumberland on suspicion of espionage on behalf of the tyrannical U.S. government,” Bobby announced.

I saw Jack’s muscles tense, like he was ready to strike, but he relaxed when he saw the guns pointed at me. I’m guessing that he would perform some kind of daring escape if he were on his own, but didn’t dare with me in the mix. I stood helplessly as two rough calloused hands grabbed my arms and wrenched them behind my back. I felt the bite of the heavy-duty plastic as the wrist cuffs were tightened with an ominous clacking sound. And they were tightened! The cuffs cut into my skin as they were cinched shut and locked. Jack grimaced as his hands were restrained.

Once we were secured, Bobby grabbed a radio. “Open the gate. Bravo team is returning with two new guests.” The heavy stockade fence opened up nearby and we were prodded at gunpoint through the doorway. Inside I saw a full paramilitary compound. A makeshift flag was flying from a pole in front of a large building with a parade ground lawn. Three sets of stocks were erected in the middle. All around were cabins and other wooden buildings. People were all around, but one thing immediately sprang to my notice. In the crowd were several men, all young and able-bodied. They wore only gray flannel pants and cheap shoes, and all had leather collars buckled around their necks. They seemed to be doing manual labor around the compound.

“Welcome to the Free State,” Bobby said, shoving us further inside. “You will be put on trial before the Sovereign Citizens and convicted of espionage. The penalty is that you will be sentenced to a life of servitude on behalf of the community.” We both started to struggle now, but a group of men descended on us and half-dragged, half-carried us over to the stocks. We were shoved to our knees and our necks were held down into the center holes and locked firmly in place. Then our hands were released from the cable ties behind our backs and inserted into the accompanying holes with alarming speed. There was no time to mount any resistance. The heavy wooden casing was lowered with a heavy thud and bolted closed.

The restraints were snug against my wrists, making it impossible to slip them out. And even if I could, the neck hole was too narrow for my head to slip through without fully raising the casing. I was stuck… and good! I struggled vainly against the stocks, which drew some chuckles from the gathering crowd.

“Brothers and sisters,” Bobby announced. “Let the trial begin!”

Coming Soon: Part 5 - Enslaved
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

“What do you mean ‘crossed on many occasions?’” I asked. “You’re a teacher. Is he some kind of academic rival? Trying to scoop you on the discovery.”
Well, tenure can be quite a arduous -- even restraining -- process! :D

Great update, [mention]wataru14[/mention]! Thank you. Babylonian goddesses, secret powers, militia groups...this tale is heating up.
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Post by Volobond »

Ooh, how exciting! Jack's powers are really interesting, and I sort of find myself hoping the Sovereign State of Free Cumberland is very liberal with the application of gags!
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