Indiana Jones and the Empire of the Sun

Chapter 1

"Hard left!" I yell over the sound of the gunfire. I grip the dashboard firmly as the jeep swerves to the left. The sweat drips down my cheek from under my fedora as the cold Peruvian air hits our faces. Panic has risen in the streets around us as cars swerve to avoid the chaos and people run for the sidewalks and into the buildings.

We come to a large intersection with a fountain in the center, where Marcus clumsily swerves to the right. Our pursuers hastily attempt to follow but veer to the left at the last second. Thankful for their moment of confusion, Marcus drives down a small street, heading toward the airport.

"Is the idol safe?" he asks me, panting between his words. After quickly checking to see that it is, I reassure Marcus.

"I wouldn't be too relieved quite yet," I warn him. "The mafia knows their way around these streets better than we do, and if this idol gets into their hands, it won't be pretty."

He simply nods in response.

After a few minutes of uninterrupted driving, we're near the airport. As soon as we pull over the jeep and make our quick getaway, I hear yelling behind me.

Of course. Because I can never make a getaway without dancing with death.

Without turning back, I rush Marcus to the gate. As soon as we get through, we make a sprint for the plane, scheduled to leave in 2 minutes.

But the instant I hear gunfire, I tackle Brody to the ground.

The plane is only 70 feet away...we're gonna have to make a run for it.

Not bothering to check the source of the gunfire, I pull Marcus alongside me as we dodge bullets behind various crates and aircraft.

30 feet...20 feet...10...and we're there!

The gunfire has stopped outside. Relieved, we make our way past the startled flight attendants to find our seats.

Comfortably seated and safe in the air, Marcus pleads for an explanation of the chaotic events of that afternoon.

"Who were our pursuers? What value does the idol hold? Is it you they want, Indy?" he inquires eagerly.

"Alright, listen. Did you see the symbol they had tattooed on their wrists? That was the Peruvian mafia. I could tell we were being followed when we found the idol." I make sure to keep my voice in a low register, looking around us for any eavesdropping. Thankfully, we're seated at the rear of the aircraft.

"Well, what would the mafia want with the idol?"

"They make a lot of their profit through ransom money, but they also run the black market. The mafia gets their hands on that and they could sell it for a fortune. If they did that, it could fall into anyone's hands."

Marcus nods knowingly, still looking flustered.

I feel a sense of accomplishment as I tip my fedora over my eyes and drift to sleep.

・・・

Once we arrive in Guadalajara, I take advantage of one of the rare moments when I'm not in a life-threatening situation and ship the idol home to Connecticut to the address of one of my trusted friends at Marshall College who's anticipating my return.

But when we exit the airport, a woman is holding a sign with our names on it. She recognizes us and quickly greets us.

"Good morning Doctor Jones, Doctor Brody," she says in a cheery tone. "I'm Doctor Alice Baker of Wesleyan University in Connecticut."

Doctor Baker has lightly curled brown hair and soft green eyes. She has a professional look about her–she stands tall and wears a grey suit with a pair of walking Oxfords.