A hill near Deir Yassan, Palestine, 1923
A small convoy of three Ford Model Ts bumped and rattled over a back road, under a blaze of stars and the faint glow of a fingernail moon. Just before they reached a rise, the lead car pulled over. The driver waved his hat to signal for a halt and got out.
Once everyone was stopped, Indiana Jones gathered his improvised troop around him and cleared his throat.
"All right fellas, Buddy Boy says our Short Stuff should be in the tavern down there. First thing is to reconnoiter. So- Sallah, you walk down to the village, real casual-like. See if you can spot any guards around the tavern and get a general idea of the layout. Meanwhile, everybody else take some dirt and darken your faces down to the collarbone, and your arms up past your shirtsleeves."
"Why?" Pete wanted to know.
"So we don't shine in the moonlight, paleface," Jack grunted as he rubbed his hands on a tire. "Didn't you ever play Cowboys and Indians when you were a kid?"
"Of course I didn't," Pete replied wearily, "I'm a preacher's kid, remember?"
When Sallah came back, he smiled at the ragtag group in spite the seriousness of their mission. "You all look like ruffians," he said, chuckling. "Even Mr. Peter."
"That's right" said Indy." Straight off the streets of Chicago and Al Capone's got nothin' on us. Or at least we hope they'll think so. What's the lay of the land?"
Dave held a lantern while Sallah drew lines on the ground behind the first car. "The building is around a courtyard; a taproom in front, living quarters in back. There is a second story above the taproom."
"Bet your ass that's where she is..." said Steve.
"Likely," Indy nodded. "Kitchen? Midden?"
"The kitchen is past the main building, the midden is behind it," Sallah replied. "And no lookout I could see. Now, perhaps the man has gone inside for food, or over to to the outhouse..."
Indy stroked his chin thoughtfully "Maybe, but I dunno. Rashid's an ugly customer, but stupid he ain't. They might think they got away clean, but if Abdul's unaccounted-for someone could be watching for him."
"So," said Indy with decision, "Here's what we do. When we pull up to the tavern, turn the cars so they're parallel to the door and we can take cover behind 'em. Then we get out with Abdul front and center. We'll try to make a trade for him but- they may not bite. No honor among thieves, and Marion's worth more to them than he is. Before we get there- Jack and Dave, soak some rags in petrol. Sneak behind the kitchen while we're palavering. If you hear one shot, they've handed Marion over, head for the cars. Two shots-no deal, so torch the midden and bust in the back. Search the downstairs and then fan to the outbuildings. Charlie and Pete, stick with me. We'll go in through the front and search the upstairs. Make as much racket as you can- we want to fool 'em into thinking there's more of us than there are."
"Whoever finds her, fire three shots, or yell 'Yanks' or 'Chicago'-something only one of us would say. At the signal, everybody fall back to the cars and let's get the hell outta there. We regroup at the wadi halfway to camp. Got it?"
The group of young men nodded, and Indy continued "Sallah, stay with Steve. Steve you're Abdul's keeper, you know what to do?"
"Oui, mon Capitaine," Steve replied. "Once he leads us in I keep his hands tied and a gun on him until I see one of you boys put little Marion in a car. Then and only then I let him go and fall back myself."
"Yeah, now if he leads us wrong, or if he's been stalling for time so she's gone when we get there..." Indy began.
Charlie slapped his hands together "I vote for a hot date with the Garden of Allah!"
"Yeah, I wish" Indy growled. "But we're the good guys. If she's not there we haul the whoreson straight to Jerusalem and turn him over to the Brits. He can take his chances with them."
"Indy, there's one more thing-"Steve added, with a sidelong look at Pete.
Indy nodded and Steve went on. "Look fellas, we don't know for sure, but in this kind of a place you may see some things that your Dad didn't exactly tell you about stateside..." Pete flushed, bracing for more razzing about his sheltered life.
Indy saw it and clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "I know I sure did, my first time in these parts. Your Dad may be a preacher, brother, but mine was a college professor!"
There were a few raised eyebrows-Jones was notoriously reticent about his family- but Pete grinned in relief.
"Point is"-Steve continued, "We have a mission, so don't let anything you hear or see make you forget Abner's-our-little girl. No matter what, just keep going."
"That's the style," Indy finished. He held out a fist-"Enough jawboning- let's go get her."
The stacked their hands like a baseball team ready to take the field, then scattered to the cars.
Being kidnapped in the desert, Marion thought morosely, wasn't anything like what happened in that copy of The Sheik she'd borrowed from Charmaine Givens and hidden under her mattress back home. Instead of a luxurious tent, she was shut up in a stuffy upstairs room with no furnishing beyond a chipped iron bedstead, a rough blanket, and a chamber pot. And instead of an amorous, dangerously handsome hero, there were two veiled women who had dressed her in a sheer shift, and combed out her braided hair.
They'd seemed surprised to find her clean and freshly groomed. She'd mustered every bit of Arabic she knew to in a desperate effort to talk with them. But her attempts to say that she was an American, that people were looking for her, and her father would pay well for her safe return were met with knowing-not altogether pleasant- smiles and answers she didn't quite understand.
She was too dazed to struggle much when they tied her ankle to the bed frame with a thick rope, and left her with a clay jug of water and some flat bread. She drank a little water, and twisted around until she pulled the blanket over her bare arms. Then she curled up on the lumpy straw tick, and tried to figure a way to get herself out of this mess. But she was still queasy from the blow to her head and the chloroform she'd breathed. Her thoughts circled like hawks on the desert wind, without ever landing at a destination. At last, Marion fell into an uneasy doze.
She woke to the tang of smoke, and the lurid glow of flames. Around her, the building was erupting into pandemonium. Downstairs, doors slammed, windows rattled, and dishes crashed on the floor. Outside her room, feet thudded, bodies slammed into the wall, and voices shouted. But some of those voices had American accents, and if they were cursing it was in blessed, blessed English. Oh, God, someone had come for her.
She jumped up and shoved at the rickety bed frame, rocking it against the wall to make as much noise as she could. Her heart lurched when a familiar voice called "Marion! Are you in there, Marion?"
"Yes!" she shrieked, and pounded on the wall for emphasis. A heavy body crashed into the door-once, twice. The wood cracked and buckled, but it stayed shut.
"I've gotta shoot the lock out-" Indy shouted through the door "-hit the wall twice if you can stand clear." She did, and shrank back on the bed, flattening herself against the wall.
There was a deafening report as the rusty lock shattered. A few sharp kicks, and the door fell open.
Indy, her Indy, gun drawn and face blackened under his familiar fedora, paused briefly in the splintered frame.
Then he crossed the room in two long strides and knelt in front of her, hand outstretched.
"It's all right now, baby," he said softly. "Me and the guys are gonna take you home."
He sawed at the rope with his pocketknife, until it fell away. "Can you walk?"
"I-I think so"
"That's my girl." His smiled flashed in his blackened face "C'mon."
But when Marion tried to stand she staggered, lost her balance, and reeled into his hastily out-thrust arm.
"Sonofabitch" Indy muttered under his breath, but he gentled his voice when he spoke to her.
"Well if you can't walk, honey, Indy will take you piggyback. Remember how I used to? Put your arms around my neck and hang on."
He hoisted her up and they started into the hall.
"Damn," he muttered, "I should've thought of this. Cover your ears, I've gotta give the signal." Indy leaned into the narrow staircase, and fired three shots into the air.
Then he bolted down the stairs, through the courtyard and bore down on the cars at a dead run. His troop of raiders flocked in from the midden and the outbuildings, converging at their signal. A whoop went up as the others saw what he carried. "Yaaaanks!"
The fire from the midden was spreading, and most of the tavern's population was now busy fighting it. But a few dropped their buckets and peeled off to chase the tall American making off with their prize. Indy turned once and fired behind him. Over the flames' crackle he yelled "Guys! Cover me!" before he skidded to a stop behind the first Model T.
With a grunt of effort, Indy pried Marion's arms off his neck, set her down, and pushed her toward Charlie "Get her outta here, pal! Head for the rendezvous!"
Charlie grabbed Marion's hand and dragged her into the last car. He cranked it, let out the choke and floored the accelerator. They took off with a belch of smoke and a grind of hastily shifted gears.
"Everyone else- backs to the cars! Pete! Start 'er up! Covering fire till we're all in!" Indy threw a glance over his shoulder to make sure Marion was safe. Then he stood beside Steve, firing his Webley to keep the foe at bay until his men were all accounted for
After Jack and Dave pelted around a corner and ran to the middle car, Indy gave gave his final order.
"Alright Steve! Indy shouted, "Let the bastard go! Now get in and gun it!"
Steve shoved Abdul into the smoky courtyard and dove for the driver's seat. Sallah scrambled into the front. Indy vaulted over the boot and intothe back seat, pistol at the ready to cover his party's retreat. With a squeal of tires and a final volley of gunfire, both cars slewed into a turn and sped out of the village.
As they climbed back up the rise, Pete brandished his rifle in triumph.
"You boys may be a passel of damn Yankees, but this deserves a Rebel Yell!" he hollered. "After me!"
"Yyeeee-haaa!" echoed over the dry hills.
The wadi was an 'oasis' by courtesy. It consisted of a few stunted palm trees and some scrubby vegetation surrounding a pool of sandy water- that would shrink steadily as the hot season progressed. Most of Abner's students knew it as a place to cool down an overheating car. Others noted the distance from camp, and the rock formation that blocked the view from the trail. They took advantage of the privacy this afforded for high stakes card games, or a tryst they didn't want their buddies finding out about.
When Pete and Dave arrived, the first Model T was parked behind the rocks, in the shadow of a palm. Charlie was standing a few feet away, rifle in hand and a flummoxed expression on his face.
"Guys! Where's Indy?" he asked.
"Bringing up the rear with Steve" Dave answered. "Where's our girl?"
Charlie jerked his thumb toward the car. Marion, white faced and shivering was huddled in the back seat.
Pete scowled and his lips compressed as he noticed the filmy shift that was clearly designed to rivet a man's attention- and the way his friends' eyes slid over to shapely legs, bare shoulders, and more cleavage than a girl that age had any business showing. So, Ox was right...
"Charlie, what the hell?" said the preacher's son who never cursed. "Get that kid a blanket-she must be freezing."
"Nothin' in the boot, pal. And she wont let me within six feet of her."
"I'll fix that." Steve was pulling up with Indy and Sallah, and Pete waved them down.
"Hey, Indy " he said with a new, firm note in his voice. "Go see to the kid. She needs you."
Indy loped over to Charlie and grasped his hand. "Thanks buddy-for everything. How is she?"
"Not good"
"Leave her to me, then. You go get a blanket from Dave, and see if one of those rubes has a flask, OK?"
"Hey, Short Stuff" he said as he opened the door.
She turned a wide-eyed, unseeing stare at him and didn't answer.
She looks like a trooper with shell shock Indy thought, dismayed. God only knows what happened before we got there...
He sat down beside her and held out a hand. "Did they hurt my baby?" Indy asked, too quietly for the others to hear.
Marion choked something unintelligible and before Indy knew what hit him, she'd come off the seat and flung herself toward him.
Automatically, his arms closed around the kid to give her a reassuring hug.
He jerked back, embarrassed, as he realized that the lithe, curving-barely-covered- softness pressed against him didn't have much in common with the freckle faced kid he thought he knew. Of course. The bastards wanted her because she's growing up. Indy just wished that his friends weren't noticing. Or that he wasn't.
Indy managed to wrestle his jacket off and wrap it around the scantily clad girl before Charlie, Steve and Pete arrived with a blanket to wrap around those-gorgeous-legs and a silver hip flask.
"This ain't a Champagne Cocktail," Steve warned as he handed it over.
Indy nodded "I know. But it's what we've got for shock."
He unscrewed the flask and tipped up Marion's chin. "Take a drink, baby, it'll help."
She chocked and sputtered as the raw liquor burned its way down her throat.
"Better?
Marion nodded but she didn't let go of his shirt.
"I want my Dad" she choked into his chest and began to cry.
"Of course you do, honey. Let's get you home" Indy murmured.
He raised his head and called. "Let's go fellas. Steve up front, Pete in back and I'll stick with Short Stuff and Charlie in the middle."
Charlie raised a quizzical eyebrow. "We'd have to pry her off him", Steve said impatiently.
"Yeah, Pete agreed. "And if we're being followed that would take too much time." His buddies looked at him with dawning respect.
They formed up quickly, started the cars and headed out for camp.
Indy was right, Marion thought fuzzily as they jolted down the road. Hooch does take the edge off. She was tucked up on Indy's lap under his jacket and the blanket. One arm held her close to him. She clutched a double handful of his shirt and burrowed in deeper. He smelt of leather and smoke, gunpowder and sweat. She inhaled him like oxygen, and gradually her trembling ceased. She rested her head on his chest and felt his heartbeat under her cheek, steady and strong. This, this, was the only safe place in the world. Here with her Indy.
