Night At The Museum- Battle Of The Smithsonian ... -

Larry’s only allies were the New York crew, but they were scattered. Teddy Roosevelt was locked in a diorama. Rexy was just a skeleton. And Larry himself was just a man with a broken flashlight.

Larry had done it. He negotiated a deal with the real Smithsonian directors: the New York exhibits would return home, but the tablet would remain on display—in a case with a silent alarm, of course.

One night, a panicked call came from his old night guard friend, Gus. “Larry, it’s the tablet! They shipped it with the exhibits!” Night at the Museum- Battle of the Smithsonian ...

Larry had nothing. No weapons. No backup. Just his wits.

As he walked out into the D.C. sunrise, Larry glanced back. For just a second, he saw the bronze statue of Amelia wink at him. Larry’s only allies were the New York crew,

Lincoln stared down at him. “ ” He carried the screaming Kahmunrah to a giant model of the Washington Monument and dropped him inside.

Kahmunrah had already taken command. His lieutenants were a rogue’s gallery: (cackling and volatile), Napoleon Bonaparte (short, angry, and waving a riding crop), and Al Capone (smug and trigger-happy). And guarding them all was a massive stone statue of a giant Horus falcon —a terrifying creature that could tear a cowboy in half. And Larry himself was just a man with a broken flashlight

He looked at the giant bronze statue of Abraham Lincoln. “I’m sorry about this, Mr. President,” he whispered.

The tablet’s magic had awakened everything in the Smithsonian. And unlike the friendly New York museum, this place was packed with historical heavyweights—and villains.

Amelia grabbed Larry’s hand. “The tablet! We have to turn it off!”

Larry ran to Lincoln’s chair and yanked out the bronze bench. A single, loud echoed through the hall. Lincoln’s eyes glowed white. Slowly, the 30-foot-tall statue of the 16th President rose to his feet.