Disclaimer: I don't own them. Not yet.

Reviewers! I love you guys:

Kelsey Estel – Thanks for checking this one out. Glad you likes. And you made me laugh. Just thinking about his expression…

This chapter… is much more intense than anything I've ever written. So, if you really hate blood or something, skip the rest of the stuff in the plane. Actually, that wouldn't do any good. Ye be warned.

CHAPTER THREE

Indiana woke to the clicking of a dozen guns. His first thought, oh great they've found me, was replaced immediately by no way could anyone be here I'm on a field trip. Opening his eyes, he regretted his second thought instantly. It had probably jinxed the whole thing. From under the brim of his hat, he could see, quite clearly, a pair of grey pinstriped pants – and a revolver, pointed right at his chest.

Indiana kept very still.

A voice sounded from somewhere above the pinstripes. An accented, German voice. "This Professor Jones would sleep through a bomb, eh? I thought he was s'posed to be 'almost impossible to catch.'"

"Be quiet!"

Indiana's thoughts were racing. If there were at least two of them, and only one was in his line of sight, he would probably get shot as soon as he tried to move. And if a man was standing over him with a gun, the other passengers of the plane were asleep, dead, or Nazi scum–

The kids.

Oh, sh—… But this is no time for loud thoughts, Indy, think.

Pistol, whip, shut up, brain, those are in the briefcase, briefcase… Okay, disarm Pinstripe, then – how many are there? Five or six passengers besides the kids, and maybe the pilots (that one's happened before), but where are they?

Murmuring and shifting slightly, to give himself a view around the cabin, Indy started counting. There were three men in addition to Pinstripe, and two more by the cockpit. He christened them Door 1, Door 2, Beard, Hat and Baggy. Baggy was fat when he got on the plane… Guns. Baggy had the guns. And two men guarding the door of the cockpit meant that the pilots were not Nazis. Alright, let's go.

Indy mumbled again, and let his head drop onto the shoulder of the student next to him. His hat fell off. The young man, Gerry, woke with a bit of a start, blinked, and looked down at his teacher. One of Indy's eyes was open.

The professor mouthed, "Scream. Scream like a girl." Gerry raised an eyebrow. "Nazis with guns, scream, wake everyone up."

Gerry, being a stout-hearted guy for such a nerd, looked up at Pinstripe, who was leering in a very evil kind of way, back down at the 'sleeping' professor, back at Pinstripe, and screamed, "AAAAHHHHHH!" in a rather fake tone. It did the job.

Within seconds the whole cabin was filled with screaming girls and boys. Pinstripe looked around wildly, giving Indy the chance to:

A. Kick him in the shins (thus knocking him over);

B. Unfasten his own seat belt;

C. Disarm and knock out Pinstripe;

D. Put on his hat again;

E. Haul Pinstripe's floppy body to its feet;

F. Realize that Pinstripe-Body was wearing a parachute. They were going to jump ship/plane as soon as everyone was dead, so they must be over land, or close to it;

G. Use Pinstripe-Body's gun to kill Door 1, who had noticed the struggle;

And so on. Indiana whirled around, shot Beard, used Pinstripe-Body to block two bullets from Hat, shot Hat, and froze.

Baggy fired a round into another screaming girl. And another.

Indy found his breath. Grabbing his briefcase from the floor, he hurled it as hard as possible at the Nazi. The beast staggered, turned towards him, raised its gun –

Indy shot it. He shot it again. He shot it another time, and would have shot it right out of the world if he could, but he was out of bullets. The sounds of gunfire didn't stop yet, though.

Door 2 emerged from the cockpit door, covered in blood but unharmed. Indy charged into him, dropping Pinstripe's empty revolver, and pummeled the stunned gunman into unconsciousness, and past it, with his bare hands.

He stopped when he finally realized what he was doing. He was wasting time.

"Do the best you can for them. I'm going to get us on the ground."

The silent college students watched him tramp into the cockpit. Through the door, they saw him pull the body out of the pilot's seat, tug his hat firmly on his head, and lower himself determinably into the blood-soaked chair.

"At least they didn't dump the fuel this time."


Joanna and Haley were dead by the time they pounded into the ground minutes later.

None of the students really knew what to do for Georgia. Some of the boys took off their shirts to use for bandages – they were in Africa, anyway – but all they could do besides that was talk to her.

Professor Jones lurched out of the cockpit. His mad adrenaline rush had long since worn off, and nobody had eaten in nearly eight hours. Everyone was exhausted. He made his way through the aisle back to the conglomerate of anxious teenagers.

"Let me see them." His student lowered their heads as they let him pass. He looked over Joanna and Haley, but didn't linger long on their bodies. The bullet had hit Georgia in the stomach, but the wound was not as bad as it could have been; the gush of blood was already slowing. Indiana managed to wake her up. Or, nearly wake her. She looked at the worried faces of her classmates with half-conscious but coherent eyes.

"Georgia, you've gotta stay awake. Just don't… don't fall asleep if you can. Does anyone have any water?"

"I brought a bottle, Profess."

"Try to clean her up." Indiana's head was drooping. "I'll try to figure out where we are." He stumbled to his feet.

"Could I come with you, Professor Jones?" Gerry asked. Indy just nodded his assent, and continued his walk towards the door. Gerry looked back at the other college students, then at his teacher, and hurried after him.

END OF CHAPTER THREE