Greece 1941

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Marcus,
It's very hard to explain, but find me immediately. I've gone mute.

The man at the Telegraph Office looked up at the nervous Indiana with deadpanned "are you serious?"

"Προσπαθείς να ξεγελάσεις τον φίλο σου;?"

Are you trying to trick your friend?

Indiana shook his head, his face turning serious.

The man sighed, rolling his eyes, "Πολύ καλά λοιπόν." He looked at the muted man again, "Για ποιον είναι αυτό?"

Who is this for?

"Marcus Brody-" Indiana then caught himself, touching his throat a bit at the sound of uh, no sound. He then picked up the journal he had bought with him, scribbling down "Marcus Brody", ripped the page out, and handed it to the man.

The man looked at Indiana. Then at the page. Then at him. Then at the page.

"Ο Θεός να μας βοηθήσει..."

Indiana gave a quick nod and immediately rushed out of the Telegraph Office, making his way to a cafe or something, anything where he could just point to the menu and not have to say a word- not that he could.

God, this was embarrassing. Considering the fact he had connections all over the globe, he was sure to run into some familiar faces here and there, and chances are, all of them wouldn't let him live the whole mute thing down.

And boy, was he right. Well, partially.

"Dr. Jones? Is that you?" A thick Italian accent asked from one of the many booths with a checker-pattern tablecloth. Indiana flinched. An Italian in Greece, huh?

He looked over, and saw a black-haired man with a rather tweed attire. Of course. It was Dr. Milo LaPara, the dean at the University of Rome that had recruited Indiana's adoptive son into abroad studies, giving him a much better chance at learning than Barnett College, which Indiana would eventually split from and join Marshall again.

Indiana nodded, his face showing that of exasperated "yes! i see you and I don't want to!".

"Indy, come, come, come!" LaPara scooted his cappuccino and newspaper away from the opposing side to his small table, brushing it off and pointing to it as if to say "be my guest!"

Indiana looked around and sat down. This might've been good. If anyone knew about Greek Folklore, it would be the Archaeologist-Professor, Milo LaPara.

"Ah, I'm so glad to have seen you, Indiana. It's been too long. Your son is doing wonderfully in his studies, and I just decided to take a break and see the sights of Grecia. What brought you to Greece, amico mio?" The man asked politely, taking a sip of his beverage.

Indiana crossed his arms, leaning back.

Should I tell him?

He then pulled out his journal and scribbled some things down.

I'm mute- can't speak. Don't laugh. Lots to explain.

He turned the journal over, pointing to the words. LaPara pulled out his reading glasses, eyebrows raising as he studied the scrawled out message. He didn't laugh. He just looked at Indiana with wide eyes.

"Come?"

How?

Indiana flipped some pages in the journal, pointing to the attached picture of the Flute of Sound, praying LaPara had seen something like this before. LaPara set down his cappuccino with more force than needed.

"Mio Dio!" He exclaimed, "You found it, amico!"

"Found what?" Indiana mouthed.

"The Instruments of Doom!" He laughed in the most relieved laugh ever, as if he'd been looking for these forever, "We lost track of these beautiful pieces decades ago and you found them!" His face then fell, "But your voice..."

"Yeah, guess who also found them?" Indiana rolled his eyes.

No reaction.

"I cannot read lips that well, amico, slow down."

"Guess... Who... Found... Them?"

LaPara scoffed, "Facista."

"Yes." Indiana nodded, "They've got my voice."

"Si, si, si..." LaPara sighed, stirring his cappuccino with the small stirrer, "I knew that the temple around here held them... We were never allowed inside, so, how should I know, hmmm?"

Indiana nodded, looking back at his journal. He then snapped his fingers, about to mouth a question.

"What do those Instruments do?"

"Ah." LaPara put his glasses back on the table, leaning forward, "La Porta della Riflessione... The Door of Reflection."

Indiana nodded, echoing the same words on his lips. "The Door of Reflection?"

"The gates to the myth Hades. The Underworld." LaPara took the journal from Indiana, "Where Hercules was said to have slain the Cerbero..."

"The Cerberus..."

LaPara then turned the journal to Indiana, pointing at the Instruments of Doom, "Three essences are required to open the Door. Three items to trade in for obedience from Hades. Strength..." He pointed at the gong, "Wit...", he pointed at the pan pipe, "And..." He looked back up at the mute.

"Voice." Indiana's eyes focused on the pages, his hand crawling up to his throat.

"Si, Amico." LaPara nodded, "Using the Instruments of Doom, one extracts these three, and poof!" He slammed the book shut, "Gone. Reduced to ash. The Door opens. Hades does whatever they want."

"The Nazis are trying to get a literal God on their side." Indiana mouthed to himself.

"And I assume the Facists want Hades for power." LaPara raised a brow as he slid the journal across the table, "But I'm not big on, eh, Myths, Jones. I'm more into... Non-fiction. True things. But I know who you can talk to if you need answers. I have a student who has been studying this great mystery for years and years."

Indiana nodded, tucking the journal back into his satchel, "Who?" He mouthed.

LaPara clasped his hands together on the table, "Tuo figlio."

Your son.

* * * *

"Are you sure you can't let anyone join you, amico mio?" LaPara questioned as the two stood in front of the large airplane that LaPara had arranged. A full 5 hour flight to Rome, just to see the kid who's probably better without Indy. It was two days after Indiana had lost his voice, and he still wasn't adjusting well.

"They took what's mine, Milo." Indiana mouthed, making sure LaPara could see his lips, "And if my son's been studying this for too long, then I know something's going on."

"Ah, what do I know?" LaPara then handed Indiana a few slips of paper, "Here's his address."

"Thanks." Indiana lifted his chin.

"If Mr. Brody asks for you anytime soon, I will tell him you're in Rome."

"I might as well join you, Indy!" A cheerful voice yapped from behind the two. Indiana whipped around.

Marcus!

The gray-haired man smiled at his colleague, "I told the college you have laryngitis, is that alright?" He plopped his suitcase down, "How are you?"

Indiana pointed to his throat, "Never been better." He mouthed.

Marcus nodded solemnly, "Yes, it's quite a mystery how things you find go wrong. Now, what's in Rome, gentlemen?"

"Dennis Jones." LaPara smiled, "He's been studying all sorts of unnatural occurrences in Greek Mythology, and Dr. Jones has experienced them head-on."

"Oh, Dennis!" Marcus smiled at Indiana, "Wouldn't it be lovely to see him again?"

Indiana rolled his eyes, "Depends on the day."

"Engines are ready, LaPara!" The pilot of the plane shouted from the cockpit.

As Indiana helped Marcus into one of the passenger seats, LaPara rested a hand on the Archaeologist's shoulder.

"If anyone can help you, amico mio... It's Dennis."

Indiana looked back, gripping his hands on where he was to haul himself up. He then looked back at Marcus. Then at LaPara.

"Let's hope so." He mouthed, and leaped into the passengers seat, getting himself snug with his satchel tight to his chest and journal pages flying in the wind, as the propellers took the plane off the ground, from Greece to Rome.

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