Chapter 2: Three Years
Bedford, USA, 1938
Marion sat in the dining room, feeding her three year old son. He swallowed the spinach and made a face. She chuckled at the look on his face, so much like when his father was forced to do something he didn't want to. Marcus was right. Henry was going to be just like his daddy.
'Mommy, when is daddy going to be home?' Henry asked.
Marion smiled. 'In a couple of days.' She knew Indy had finally pinpointed the location of the Cross of Coronado and she was glad for it. Finally, they could end this crazy running-after-obsessions thing that their families seemed to have.
When Henry got old enough to have an obsession, he wouldn't remember this.
Outside the house, a car was parked across the road. Inside, there were four figures. Only one of them was an American. The other three were German. They all looked, able to see into the dining room where the mother was feeding her toddler son.
'Is that Dr. Jones's wife and son?' one of the Germans asked.
The American nodded. 'I ought to warn you, Mrs. Jones has been known to wield a gun on occasion and quite well. I'd recommend surprising her.'
The German nodded. 'Yes. The Third Reich use women as spies quite frequently. It is well known just how treacherous they can be.'
Portuguese Coast
Indy kicked off against the edge of the boat and landed behind the guys. He whacked them across the faces and hauled himself up the mast. Son of a bitch wasn't getting away this time. Indy reached the top of the mast and saw the Gestapo agent. He should've figured something like that.
Kuh-RACK!
Indy swung down, knocking several of the bastards down as he went. He unlatched the whip and had it coiled up and reattached to his belt by the time he grabbed the Gestapo and yanked him down within reach. Indy snatched the Cross back and punched him across the face, knocking him to the ground. Then Indy ran and dived over the edge of the boat. He had it now. It only took him three of the five years too. That was just an added bonus.
Now he had a wife and a son to get back to.
Bedford, USA
Indy stepped in the front gate and stopped short. Something's not right. The front door was wide open. That wasn't like Marion. She scolded Henry for it, telling him that leaving the front door open was just asking for trouble. She wasn't that careless.
Indy laid his hand on his gun and cautiously stepped into his own home. 'Marion? Henry?'
There was no crying. Indy had the feeling in his bones that something had happened. If Henry wasn't crying, it meant one of three things. One: he'd slept right through whatever happened. Two: he was out of earshot. Three: he couldn't cry. That last one made Indy shudder.
Indy quietly hurried up the stairs and headed for the nursery. When he entered, he had his answer. Marion laid on the floor, blood dripping from a gash across her forehead. Henry was gone.
'Shit!' Indy shot forward and scooped his wife up into his arms. He carried her out of the nursery and down the hallway, into their bedroom. Laying her on the bed, Indy pulled the first aid kit from the corner where Marion kept it and opened it. He quickly dressed her wound and then pulled the covers around her.
Marion wouldn't want him just hanging around here when their kid was in trouble. Indy was already kicking himself. He just had to go then and there. Could've just kept an eye on it until it was safe but no.
Never mind that he'd achieved his ambition and gotten the Cross of Coronado, he'd possibly just lost his only son. If he was lucky, then he was right about Henry being a Holy Child and one of the older ones would find him. If that interference of Nick's bosses had taught him anything, it was that those Holy kids stuck by each other like glue.
Indy bolted downstairs and outside. 'Henry!' He listened. Nothing but the silence of the night and maybe the muffled sound of someone speaking inside the neighbourhood houses.
One of the lights across the road turned on and a moment later the door opened. Greg Kefton, one of the neighbours, came out pulling on a dressing gown. Indy was too focused trying to work out which way Henry would've been taken to really look at him too closely.
'Indy, what's got you so excited at this hour?' Greg asked.
Well, he didn't really have time to go into a long story. He'd just have to go with the abridged version of what happened. 'Someone came in, attacked Marion and took off with Henry.'
Greg looked startled, like he couldn't believe something like that would happen. God, some people were sheltered! Then he composed himself. 'I'll get Maude to look after Marion and then I'll help you look.'
'Thanks.' Indy's gut pointed him to the left so that was where he ran. He called out as he went. 'Henry? Henry?'
Goddamnit, there was nothing to…Indy skidded to a stop as he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He'd been just about to cross another road when he saw it. Down a quiet back street, there was something small lying on the footpath. Indy turned and ran over to it.
When he got there, he dropped to his knees and picked it up. It was something he easily recognised. A stuffed dog with scruffy fur from being sucked on and dragged around. It was Henry's favourite toy. Something the kid had named Mutt. He never went anywhere without this thing.
It was damp from tears. Clearly, Mutt had been clutching it and crying as he was dragged through town. The recent bite marks Indy found, on closer inspection, suggested to him that Henry had been threatened if he didn't shut up so he bit his toy to keep from crying. Before he dropped it, that was.
'Henry?' The marks were still wet. He couldn't be far away. Indy listened again. Silence.
Indy quickly pushed the dog into his pack, which he'd never gotten around to taking off and looked around. He was about to start running down the street when he spotted burn marks on the road. The kind that were caused by a car taking off very fast.
So much for "can't have gone far". Indy ran in the direction the marks went. He soon found that every time Henry's kidnappers turned a corner, they left those burns in the road. Indy just followed those until he got to a large field.
A car was sitting there, abandoned. Indy crossed the distance in moments and yanked open the door. They probably had a helicopter so they'd be long gone. But that didn't mean they didn't leave him with some clue as to who they were.
Indy yanked open the glove box. It was empty except for the papers on the car. Indy pulled them out and rifled through them. Not that he needed to. It was quite clear what was going on here.
The papers for this car were not written in English. Indy took them and stormed back the way he came. He knew exactly who had invaded his house, attacked his wife and stolen his little boy.
Indy spoke through his teeth. 'Nazis.'