Russian secret police were pulling onto the street, sirens wailing.
Marion slid into the front seat, as Indy lowered Laurel into the back. "Stay on the floor with your head down, you'll be ok, sweetheart."
Indy took his hat back from Laurel.
Annie held a handkerchief to her son, Tyler's head.
"Mom? Where are we? What's going on? Where's Dad?" The frightened boy was fighting her.
"Tyler," Annie was nearly begging. "Please just stay still and trust me."
Indy got in the passenger side, "Tyler - I'm your grandfather - we're taking you to a safe place."
"No you're not! This is kidnapping!" The boy started to yell louder.
Several officers turned, looking down the street, moving toward the alley.
Annie stuffed the bloody handkerchief inside her son's mouth.
Indy stared up at the broken apartment window. "Marion - something's wrong."
"We can't stay, Dad! We can't!" Annie was terrified.
Laurel started crying in the backseat, reaching for Indy.
Indy checked his pistol and grabbed the door handle - about to bolt from the car.
"Indy," Marion grabbed his hand. "I can't drive and shoot. I need you here."
Indy didn't let go of the door handle or his pistol.
"Indy," Marion softened her voice. "Remember when you left me in Belloq's tent? You trusted me to escape. You need to trust Emily like that."
Indy stared at the broken apartment window. "I'm sorry, Em. I'm sorry."
Marion hit the gas pedal.
The car bolted through the alleyway, tires spinning in the rubble. Marion floored it past the KBG nearly blockading the street, dodging between black cars.
Bullets shattered the back window.
Laurel screamed.
Indy dove into the backseat and fired back.
YOU ARE READING
The Sidenstrasse Tapestry: An Indiana Jones Fan-Fiction
FanficIn 1945 archaeologist Indiana Jones was called on one last mission. Now, even in 1960, it haunts him as his youngest daughter, Emily Jones - just as rough and tumble and skilled in handling trouble as her father - scrambles after his legacy to pro...
