36
Smoke on the Water
The ruined boat slipped lower into the dark, frigid lake and the freezing, alpine water rose higher and higher around them. Indiana Jones and the gypsy woman Vadoma Maniskelko stood together; holding each other closely even as death literally clutched at their ankles and endeavored to pull them down into its eternal, cold embrace.
Vadoma turned to him. A tear ran down her cheek, but at the same time there was a look of brave defiance in her eyes; the same magnetic fire that had so captivated Jones when they'd first met.
"Indy, I... I wish that...."
Jones held her closer, "Shhhh," he spoke softly and stroked her hair, "it doesn't matter now."
Vadoma managed a weak smile, "Indiana Jones you are ....."
"Wait!" Jones said suddenly as he looked up and his eyes scanned the sky, "He's coming back!" He said and pointed at the Me-109 fighter which had circled around and was now growing larger and larger in the sky as it again approached the crippled boat from the rear.
"He's coming back to finish us off!"
Jones spoke with a mix of both anger, and resignation to their cold fate. Then his eyes locked on to the two submachine guns and the two stick grenades still left that he'd taken from the armored car. His face darkened with a look of grim determination and a flash of revenge shone in Indiana Jones' brown eyes.
"Let's give him a little something to remember us!" He said.
He picked up one of the submachine guns, jacked back the action, and then handed the weapon to Vadoma. The other weapon he took for himself. Jones then handed her one of the grenades, "pull this pin when I tell you." He said, pointing to the arming pin, "and then throw it when I say."
She took the grenade from him and then turned her gaze to look out at the droning aircraft that approached them from the distance, ready to deal them their final death blow. Her dark, sepia eyes too held the burning fire of vengeance; not only for her, but for her sister Pesha as well.
Indiana Jones jacked the slide on the second submachine gun, picked up the other grenade, and then waited. The freezing water was now up around their knees and rising higher. Jones knew that once it reached up to their chest, and the boat slipped out from beneath them for good leaving them helpless in the water, it wouldn't be long before they'd both be dead. But they wouldn't go down without a fight...that much at least they would have. And they would have their chance at a last shot courtesy of the Messerschmitt pilot himself who wasn't content to just leave them to die, but instead, in true, thorough, Nazi fashion, felt compelled to strafe them a second time.
Indiana Jones hoped to make him pay.
The aircraft buzzed in from the rear. Once again it looked like some kind of angry wasp swooping in, growing larger by the second. Jones had disturbed the nest, he thought, and now he was paying the price. Despite the circumstances he couldn't help a dark chuckle at the analogy as he fingered the pin of the grenade in anticipation, hoping the shattered, broken boat would just stay afloat long enough for him to get a clear shot.
Jones gauged the speed of the approaching aircraft the best he could, and then pulled the pin on his grenade.
"Pull the pin!" He shouted over to Vadoma standing resolutely next to him and motioned to the grenade that she held by the 'potato masher' stick in her own hand.
She pulled her pin, and then Indiana Jones began counting aloud, "One, two, three..."
The Messerschmitt homed in on them in a descending pattern and the pilot prepared to unleash his twenty millimeter cannons on them for a second time.
"four, five ...."
Vadoma looked nervously from the grenade in her hand, to Indiana Jones, and then back to her grenade again. Though she knew she was about to die, the idea of being blown apart was still not an appealing one.
"Six, seven...."
The Me-109 let loose with its cannons and fountains of water kicked up on the lake in a concise pattern that bore directly for the stricken boat.
"Indy!!" Vadoma screamed and stared helplessly at the lethal grenade clutched in her hand.
"Eight, nine..." Jones voice grew louder as his count went higher, "throw it!!" He finally shouted.
The two of them threw their grenades up into the air and in the direction of the low flying, oncoming airplane. Less than two seconds later twin air bursts rent the alpine sky in front of the Nazi plane. The suddenness of the unexpected return fire caught the pilot off guard. His wings wavered and the nose of the aircraft dipped for a moment towards the surface of the lake just meters below.
That moment was all Jones and Vadoma needed.
The pair simultaneously opened up with their submachine guns, spitting a stream of bullets that shattered the windshield of the Me-109 and mercilessly tore into the face and body of the screaming pilot.
A fraction of a moment later the Messerschmitt, now piloted by a bullet ridden corpse, slammed nose first into the lake a mere ten meters behind Jones and Vadoma. The aircraft cart wheeled over them, throwing fountains of water as it broke up into pieces. One of the wings snapped off with the agonized sound of metal stretched beyond its limits. The wing splashed down close by to their boat while the rest of the aircraft careened away, throwing off pieces of rudder and tail before the remnants of the fuselage eventually came to rest about a quarter mile away.
As their crippled boat slipped further under the lake water Indiana Jones' eyes went to the Messerschmitt wing which floated on the surface like a buoyant surf board just a couple of meters away.
He grabbed Vadoma's hand, "Jump!" He shouted to her and gestured towards the airplane wing emblazoned with the German cross.
Vadoma did not hesitate as the water in the sinking boat rose up to her thighs and she too saw the sudden opportunity to escape from their fate. She stepped up on to the gunwale of the boat, now just inches above the surface, and leaped across to the floating wing, landing roughly but safely.
Indiana Jones picked up an oar that floated in the rising water and tossed it out of the boat towards Vadoma who now sat atop the wing. Then he scrambling up on to the last remaining portion of the craft, the very front of the bow, and made the jump to safety just before it slipped under the waves for good.
"Indy! We're saved!" Vadoma exclaimed breathlessly.
"Yeah," Jones said, "courtesy of the Messerschmitt Company. But I don't know how long this thing's going to stay afloat." He searched around the horizon with his eyes and picked up the oar, "which way to Switzerland?"
Indiana Jones paddled towards the high mountains of Switzerland in the distance, stopping every so often to listen for the approach of any more German aircraft, and to contemplate the irony of traveling the last mile out of Germany, by water, on the wing of a Nazi fighter plane.
But what lay ahead? He thought.
Jones felt inside his leather jacket for it's inside pocket and was comforted to feel the envelope full of money still there. Though they'd spent some of the cash, there was still plenty to get them to Egypt. Their fake identity papers were in there as well. Then Jones felt in the outer pocket for his Webley handgun and was comforted by the presence of his trusted, old friend. But then he felt behind his back and realized that he was without that other old friend, his bullwhip, left behind along with the rest of their luggage on a German train car.
As he gazed at Vadoma in front of him Indiana Jones could only hope that what lay ahead for them would be easier than what they'd been through already.
No more German aircraft came, the Messerschmitt wing stayed afloat, and eventually they reached the southern shore of Lake Constance where they stepped off on to a sandy beach, and the soil of Switzerland.
They were immediately greeted by a man who stepped out from behind some conifers. He was wearing a pair of binoculars slung beneath his neck and he was speaking to them in rapid German.
Jones went for his Webley.
Vadoma stopped his hand before he could raise the weapon.
"No Indy!" she shouted at Jones as she listened to the man speak.
"What is he saying?" Jones asked; the wariness and mistrust evident in his voice.
When the man heard Indiana Jones speaking in English he quickly switched over to that language.
"Hello my friends; please, do not be alarmed, I want to help you."
Indiana Jones returned his Webley to his pocket but remained wary of the man who now stood before them, "Who are you?" Jones asked.
"My name is Helmut Rupprecht, I came out here today to watch the winter birds as I always do," he motioned towards his binoculars, "but instead I witnessed your heroic fight against the Nazi plane; very impressive."
Indiana Jones studied the man for a few moments, "You said you want to help us?" "Oh yes." The man answered, "I do not know who you are, but I saw what you did, and any enemy of the Nazis is a friend of mine." Rupprecht smiled reassuringly, "but come quickly, not everyone on this side of the lake thinks as I do. The Nazis have their friends over here too."
Indiana Jones looked over at Vadoma, and then back at Rupprecht; then nodded his head.
"OK," Jones said, deciding to trust the man, "let's go."
Smoke on the Water
The ruined boat slipped lower into the dark, frigid lake and the freezing, alpine water rose higher and higher around them. Indiana Jones and the gypsy woman Vadoma Maniskelko stood together; holding each other closely even as death literally clutched at their ankles and endeavored to pull them down into its eternal, cold embrace.
Vadoma turned to him. A tear ran down her cheek, but at the same time there was a look of brave defiance in her eyes; the same magnetic fire that had so captivated Jones when they'd first met.
"Indy, I... I wish that...."
Jones held her closer, "Shhhh," he spoke softly and stroked her hair, "it doesn't matter now."
Vadoma managed a weak smile, "Indiana Jones you are ....."
"Wait!" Jones said suddenly as he looked up and his eyes scanned the sky, "He's coming back!" He said and pointed at the Me-109 fighter which had circled around and was now growing larger and larger in the sky as it again approached the crippled boat from the rear.
"He's coming back to finish us off!"
Jones spoke with a mix of both anger, and resignation to their cold fate. Then his eyes locked on to the two submachine guns and the two stick grenades still left that he'd taken from the armored car. His face darkened with a look of grim determination and a flash of revenge shone in Indiana Jones' brown eyes.
"Let's give him a little something to remember us!" He said.
He picked up one of the submachine guns, jacked back the action, and then handed the weapon to Vadoma. The other weapon he took for himself. Jones then handed her one of the grenades, "pull this pin when I tell you." He said, pointing to the arming pin, "and then throw it when I say."
She took the grenade from him and then turned her gaze to look out at the droning aircraft that approached them from the distance, ready to deal them their final death blow. Her dark, sepia eyes too held the burning fire of vengeance; not only for her, but for her sister Pesha as well.
Indiana Jones jacked the slide on the second submachine gun, picked up the other grenade, and then waited. The freezing water was now up around their knees and rising higher. Jones knew that once it reached up to their chest, and the boat slipped out from beneath them for good leaving them helpless in the water, it wouldn't be long before they'd both be dead. But they wouldn't go down without a fight...that much at least they would have. And they would have their chance at a last shot courtesy of the Messerschmitt pilot himself who wasn't content to just leave them to die, but instead, in true, thorough, Nazi fashion, felt compelled to strafe them a second time.
Indiana Jones hoped to make him pay.
The aircraft buzzed in from the rear. Once again it looked like some kind of angry wasp swooping in, growing larger by the second. Jones had disturbed the nest, he thought, and now he was paying the price. Despite the circumstances he couldn't help a dark chuckle at the analogy as he fingered the pin of the grenade in anticipation, hoping the shattered, broken boat would just stay afloat long enough for him to get a clear shot.
Jones gauged the speed of the approaching aircraft the best he could, and then pulled the pin on his grenade.
"Pull the pin!" He shouted over to Vadoma standing resolutely next to him and motioned to the grenade that she held by the 'potato masher' stick in her own hand.
She pulled her pin, and then Indiana Jones began counting aloud, "One, two, three..."
The Messerschmitt homed in on them in a descending pattern and the pilot prepared to unleash his twenty millimeter cannons on them for a second time.
"four, five ...."
Vadoma looked nervously from the grenade in her hand, to Indiana Jones, and then back to her grenade again. Though she knew she was about to die, the idea of being blown apart was still not an appealing one.
"Six, seven...."
The Me-109 let loose with its cannons and fountains of water kicked up on the lake in a concise pattern that bore directly for the stricken boat.
"Indy!!" Vadoma screamed and stared helplessly at the lethal grenade clutched in her hand.
"Eight, nine..." Jones voice grew louder as his count went higher, "throw it!!" He finally shouted.
The two of them threw their grenades up into the air and in the direction of the low flying, oncoming airplane. Less than two seconds later twin air bursts rent the alpine sky in front of the Nazi plane. The suddenness of the unexpected return fire caught the pilot off guard. His wings wavered and the nose of the aircraft dipped for a moment towards the surface of the lake just meters below.
That moment was all Jones and Vadoma needed.
The pair simultaneously opened up with their submachine guns, spitting a stream of bullets that shattered the windshield of the Me-109 and mercilessly tore into the face and body of the screaming pilot.
A fraction of a moment later the Messerschmitt, now piloted by a bullet ridden corpse, slammed nose first into the lake a mere ten meters behind Jones and Vadoma. The aircraft cart wheeled over them, throwing fountains of water as it broke up into pieces. One of the wings snapped off with the agonized sound of metal stretched beyond its limits. The wing splashed down close by to their boat while the rest of the aircraft careened away, throwing off pieces of rudder and tail before the remnants of the fuselage eventually came to rest about a quarter mile away.
As their crippled boat slipped further under the lake water Indiana Jones' eyes went to the Messerschmitt wing which floated on the surface like a buoyant surf board just a couple of meters away.
He grabbed Vadoma's hand, "Jump!" He shouted to her and gestured towards the airplane wing emblazoned with the German cross.
Vadoma did not hesitate as the water in the sinking boat rose up to her thighs and she too saw the sudden opportunity to escape from their fate. She stepped up on to the gunwale of the boat, now just inches above the surface, and leaped across to the floating wing, landing roughly but safely.
Indiana Jones picked up an oar that floated in the rising water and tossed it out of the boat towards Vadoma who now sat atop the wing. Then he scrambling up on to the last remaining portion of the craft, the very front of the bow, and made the jump to safety just before it slipped under the waves for good.
"Indy! We're saved!" Vadoma exclaimed breathlessly.
"Yeah," Jones said, "courtesy of the Messerschmitt Company. But I don't know how long this thing's going to stay afloat." He searched around the horizon with his eyes and picked up the oar, "which way to Switzerland?"
Indiana Jones paddled towards the high mountains of Switzerland in the distance, stopping every so often to listen for the approach of any more German aircraft, and to contemplate the irony of traveling the last mile out of Germany, by water, on the wing of a Nazi fighter plane.
But what lay ahead? He thought.
Jones felt inside his leather jacket for it's inside pocket and was comforted to feel the envelope full of money still there. Though they'd spent some of the cash, there was still plenty to get them to Egypt. Their fake identity papers were in there as well. Then Jones felt in the outer pocket for his Webley handgun and was comforted by the presence of his trusted, old friend. But then he felt behind his back and realized that he was without that other old friend, his bullwhip, left behind along with the rest of their luggage on a German train car.
As he gazed at Vadoma in front of him Indiana Jones could only hope that what lay ahead for them would be easier than what they'd been through already.
No more German aircraft came, the Messerschmitt wing stayed afloat, and eventually they reached the southern shore of Lake Constance where they stepped off on to a sandy beach, and the soil of Switzerland.
They were immediately greeted by a man who stepped out from behind some conifers. He was wearing a pair of binoculars slung beneath his neck and he was speaking to them in rapid German.
Jones went for his Webley.
Vadoma stopped his hand before he could raise the weapon.
"No Indy!" she shouted at Jones as she listened to the man speak.
"What is he saying?" Jones asked; the wariness and mistrust evident in his voice.
When the man heard Indiana Jones speaking in English he quickly switched over to that language.
"Hello my friends; please, do not be alarmed, I want to help you."
Indiana Jones returned his Webley to his pocket but remained wary of the man who now stood before them, "Who are you?" Jones asked.
"My name is Helmut Rupprecht, I came out here today to watch the winter birds as I always do," he motioned towards his binoculars, "but instead I witnessed your heroic fight against the Nazi plane; very impressive."
Indiana Jones studied the man for a few moments, "You said you want to help us?" "Oh yes." The man answered, "I do not know who you are, but I saw what you did, and any enemy of the Nazis is a friend of mine." Rupprecht smiled reassuringly, "but come quickly, not everyone on this side of the lake thinks as I do. The Nazis have their friends over here too."
Indiana Jones looked over at Vadoma, and then back at Rupprecht; then nodded his head.
"OK," Jones said, deciding to trust the man, "let's go."