An Alternative View

by Marcher

Rated R

gama39@austarmetro.com.au

Part four: Jonathan.

"What to do! What to do!"

Jonathan's mind was a maze of panic and indecision. His body was beginning to ache from the uncontrollable

shivering induced by the bone penetrating cold. This, combined with Evelyn's grievous and desperate

siezure of his arm, was affecting his train of thought.

Being in the driver's seat meant he had not seen Alex snatched away. When his sister and her cohorts

charged to the rear of the bus he had simply assumed they were still fending off mummies. By the time he

reached Evelyn's side she was blathering emotionally and making little sense, even less when it appeared to

all that her husband had leapt into the Thames! It was left for Ardeth to explain.

How that man unnerved him! Especially now! For reasons he was unable to fathom, he knew Ardeth wished

him gone, but Jonathan was resolved to stand firm. He was becoming indifferent to the tedious attitude of

others, along with their condescencions towards him. Ardeth offered a gesture of solace by placing his hand

upon Evie's shoulder, but her disinterest in this afforded Jonathan the boldness of stepping between the two

and he pulled his distraught sister into his arms. She had made her preference clear, giving Jonathan a smug

sense of superiority over their unexpected guest.

***

The very idea of returning to Egypt made him chuckle. He had managed to avoid this particular event for the

past ten years or so, swearing nothing this side of doomsday would ever coax him back . Now he had been

thrown into the fray, and to the rescue of his beloved nephew, simply from being in the wrong place at the

wrong time. He shook his head at the irony. This had been the story of his life!

A refusal to assist did not cross Jonathan's mind. As much as he loathed to embark on that journey once more,

he was impelled to act by the terrible fate looming over the boy. However, a simple request to join the party

was preferable to O'Connell's bellicose takeover. Over the course of time, he had developed a rancor to this

side of his brother-in-law's character and was now discovering an urge to express himself. But at this moment,

only two things stood between Jonathan and a right fist from the American. One was the urgency of the child's

situation. The other was Jonathan's overwhelming desire for dry clothes.

***

Evelyn's uneasy mood during the cab journey was remarkably taxing on everyone. Jonathan understood

her anxiety and disbelief, but the tension emanating from his sister seemed surprisingly out of character,

even under such dreadful circumstances. She was perspiring and appeared distracted. When he leaned

forward and touched her knee in an attempt to sympathize with her, she almost bit his hand off at the wrist!

It was then that the equally concerned O'Connell reached an arm around his wife's shoulder and drew her

into him, but even he was unable to comfort her for any length of time.

Jonathan may be a disgruntled participant in life, but he rarely missed a trick. He was intrigued by Evelyn's

sly glances at that sullen messenger of doom and he noticed how the man returned the favour. It seemed

Rick was the only one with his mind on the matter at hand. He sat silently, almost unrecognizable. His eyes

squeezed shut beneath his furrowed brow and his face had lost all colour. Ardeth remained as stoic as ever

and Evelyn looked as though she would be sick.

"I say, Evie, you look as though you....urgh!" her foot connected viciously with his shin.

"I'm sorry Jonathan, there's not much room in here"

"There's plenty of bloody room, you kicked me on purpose!" He imagined the size of the bruise appearing

on his battered leg as he attempted to rub away the pain.

Evelyn became so distressed, tears began to well in her eyes and she shook uncontrollably. Rick pressed

her head to his shoulder and gave Jonathan a silent bidding to leave well enough alone. Complaining of his

pain to Ardeth was pointless, but Jonathan saw something flash in the eyes of the arcane warrior before his

gaze returned to the rain soaked streets of London. Something vulnerable. Something that would put

them on equal and common ground. His mind retreated to his sister a decade ago, in Cairo. He remembered

her rambling incohenrently about not being able to measure up as she paced her bedroom floor. He had

commonly assumed she was suffering from pre-wedding jitters. Only now the penny dropped! Jonathan's

eyes narrowed as he leaned back into his seat, folding his arms. He said no more until they reached the house.

***

Once inside, Evelyn sought solitary refuge in her bedroom while Rick and Ardeth made haste with a strategy.

Their indifference towards Jonathan was typical of what he had come to expect. It was obvious to anyone

that he was only meant to follow.

Taking furtive backward steps towards the door, Jonathan hoped to sieze this opportunity to change into

something warmer, but he was stopped by Rick's indictable demand for an explanation on where he was going.

It was a false assumption of cowardice, and it irked Jonathan to the core. Anger rose within him as he

straightened his stance and took determined steps towards both men. Jonathan's words spilled freely in a

galling temper.

"Look here! Alex is gone because all of you were off your guard! The only reason I'm in this at all is

because I came home to find you and my over zealous sister back a month early...with yet another sacred relic

which she most likely pilfered from some rotting corpse! With a minimum of interference from you I'd imagine."

Jonathan was looking directly into the eyes of his enraged brother-in-law and realized his predicament, but he was

fuelled with an adrenalin gorged courage which forbade him to stop. "Furthermore, we find she's set off another

wave of revenge from our ancient friends, but she gets to hide upstairs in her bedroom!" Even O'Connell's

vehement approach didn't sway him as he continued incredulously "This is all her fault...again! For God's sake

Rick, you only have to say 'NO!' occassionally...it should get easier after the first few times." The seething

American stepped up and delivered a punch that knocked the smaller man off his feet.

Surprising even himself Jonathan climbed to his feet and wiped the corner of his mouth, checking the smeared

blood on the back of his hand "Don't waste your energy on me, old son" He offered sarcastically. "I'm sure

there'll be plenty of opportunity for you to get stuck in before this game's over!"

Steadying himself, he turned and directed his diatribe toward Ardeth. "As for you! Where in God's name did you

spring from? Is the desert getting too difficult for you these days?" Still glaring at Ardeth, he pointed furiously

at O'Connell "You're as bad as him! What he lacks in moderation you make up for in stealth!" Rubbing his jaw,

he continued his accusations, feeling somewhat blessed he'd made it this far relatively unscathed, but all the

while he fully expected the Med-jai to retaliate. "You must have known long ago that all this was on the cards...

and you knew it was going to be BIG! Why else would you be here instead of one of your lackeys?" Stretching

his arms wide, Jonathan spoke with a mock display of wonderment. "But perhaps some kind of warning next time,

you know the thing. A letter....smoke signals....a bloody carrier pidgeon!" He shouted "Anything! Anything

would have been preferable to this god awful mess! You and your lot are meant to be able to stop all this before

it starts, but twice now it's run over your toes!

Jonathan leaned against the back of a chair placing a hand to his jaw and groaned quietly "Arsenals and tattoos!"

From the corner of his eye he saw O'Connell put a hand to Ardeth's shoulder, deferring the man's retort. Jonathan

raised his line of vision and sighed upon seeing the mix of raw anger and sorrow on the faces of both men. He felt

a rush of emotions surge through his body, but regret wasn't one of them when he spoke. "I may not be your

kindred spirit or your average gun toting maniac, but let me make this perfectly clear." He stood and faced both

men. "I am not a coward! Just mildly reluctant to jump in front of bullets, is all. But aside from that, I'm sick and

tired of being accused of running out. Look at me for God's sake! I'm soaked to the bone! I've been standing on

that bloody bridge for an hour on a freezing winter's night." He walked towards the door, "I won't be given the

opportunity to even consider being left by the wayside". He murmured, then turned to face them one last time.

"So, gentlemen, if time permits, I intend to check on my sister, change my clothes and pour myself a stiff drink

prior to leaving. If anyone cares to join me, you'll know where I'll be."

***

Jonathan wearily climbed the stairs following the sound of Evelyn's crying. Stopping at her doorway he looked in

to find her standing with her back to him, but watching his reflection in the mirror. Brother and sister stood looking

at the image of each other, both knowing the other. She didn't speak and he couldn't find the words needed to

bridge the gap. Jonathan bit his bottom lip and dropped his gaze. He turned away from her and walked to his own

room.

END