Abilene, Texas
United States of America
August 29th, 1940
Pan-Asian soldiers threw open the doors to the box car and prodded the three POWs inside with their bayonets. It was packed with men in US Army uniform, prisoners from the last offensive. There were only a handful NCO’s or privates among them, all of Asian blood.
‘Take it easy! His going as fast as he can!’ Indy barked as one of the soldiers rifle-butted Short Round in the back. All it gain him was a similar treatment. Indy collapsed on the wooden floor of the wagon, grimacing with pain.
‘Sir, it’s a bad idea to talk back to them!’ said Lietuenant Aristoteles Savalas.
‘No—shit!’ Indy groaned.
The doors slammed shut and there was a metallic sound as the soldiers threw the bars locked.
‘Dr Jones! Dr Henry “Indiana” Jones! Is that really you?’
The voice that rose among the packed prisoners carried a heavy German accent, but more surprisingly, it was female.
‘What— Hannah?’ Indy sat up to see Hannah Reitsch walk gingerly between the sitting men filling up the wagon floor. A disgustingly handsome captain wearing USAAC insignia followed close behind her, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Both struggled not to loose their balance in the shaking box car.
‘It’s Colonel Reitsch to you, sonny!’ the pilot informed Indy, none too friendly. Hannah seemed far too happy at finding Jones for Buck’s taste.
‘ShutupBuck.’ Hannah sat down next to the archaeologist and gave him a hug and a kiss on the check. Indy returned it somewhat coldly and included Buck in a cold stare.
‘So this is James’s replacement, eh? I can’t say that I was sorry to hear you dropped him but you broke his heart, Lady.’
‘Just who’s this geezer anyway?!’ Buck asked in irritation. He knew a ladies man when he saw one.
‘Dr Jones is a world famous archaeologist and adventurer Buck. It was he who discovered the tomb of Attila last year, remember? He’s also James’s father… And we go way back, Indy and I. Shanghai, Antarctica…’
‘And Yucatan’, Indy interjected. ‘Let’s not forget Yucatan. You showed were your true loyalties lie there Nazi gal – you sided with that madman Duhrn!’
‘That… was a mistake. I’ve learnt to loathe Günther Duhrn far more than you could possibly imagine. And in any case, don’t you think I deserve a little bit of slack, on account of me putting my life on the line for America these last few months?’
‘On account of…? You’ve been hanging out too much with Tex here!’ Indy said laughing.
Buck Rogers did not smile.
‘Look,’ Hannah insisted, ‘let bygones be bygones,
Ja? The important thing is that we’re all friends here, and POWs. If we can cooperate to escape, then all the better, and I couldn’t have picked better associates for a prison break!’
Indy nodded at that. ‘All right, you do make sense’, and only to annoy Rogers he added ‘and you’re far too cute to be angry with anyway, Colonel! Now let me present my two brothers in misfortune; this is Lieutenant Aristoteles Savalas…’
Yuma, Arizona
United States of America
August 29th, 1940
Hours later, the train had stopped. The POWs in cattle car could hear how one after another, the other wagons were opened and the occupants driven out by screaming Pan-Asians. The sounds came gradually closer until soldiers crashed open the sliding door to their wagon and dozens of Pan-Asian soldiers armed with rifles and bayonets began to empty it, employing copious shouting and beatings. Outside was a stockyard. The terrain was typical of the borderlands with Mexico, arid, dusty, ochre-yellow. A red evening sun hang over the western horizon.
‘Welcome to Camp Yuma, White Devils!’ a Pan-Asian Sergeant shouted with heavy accent. ‘Get out! Out! Out!’
When Indy was about to comply promptly – because he didn’t feel like getting kicked around for no good reason – the Pan-Asian sergeant stopped him with a wave of his pistol.
‘NO! You and the woman, VIP POWs! Sit! You go on to San Francisco, meet the Viceroy!’
Indy’s mouth fell open.
‘Indy!’ Short Round shouted desperately as Pan-Asian soldiers dragged him away from the rail car, kicking and squirming.
‘Hannah!’ Buck Rogers called in much similar fashion. Both immediately became the object of sharp corrective measures, which involved kicks and a lot of screaming.
‘Telly! Look after Short Round for me!’ Indy had time to shout before the doors slammed shut again, leaving Hannah and Indy alone in the gloom.
‘The Viceroy? What does that monster want with us?’ Hannah said, sounding forlorn. She curled up against the wall, hugging her knees.
Indy sat down beside her as the train lolled into motion again. ‘I have no idea sweetie, but I don’t like it one bit.’
‘At least they didn’t spot Buck. He was the one who crippled and almost killed the Viceroy, you know, when he strafed his ass with a Fu fighter. Siwan Khan strikes me as the vindictive type.’
‘That was him?’ Indy grinned. ‘I like that punk better already!’
‘You think they’ll be all right, Dr Jones?’ she asked, looking up at Indy with those colossal blue eyes of hers.
‘I hope so. Your boy seems resourceful enough, and Short Round is wickedly clever. With Telly helping them, they should be out of there in no time, you’ll see.’
She smiled sadly. ‘You’re trying to comfort me, aren’t you, Dr Jones?’
Passing an arm over her shoulders was automatic. She didn’t seem to mind though. ‘Call me Indy, please. We’re in shit deep enough to lay off the titles.’
She leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘Now you’re doing a piss poor job of it though. Indy… I’m scared.’
‘I’m scared too, but It’ll be all right’, he said. It sounded foolish even in his own ears.
****
Buck, Telly, Short Round and all the other recently unloaded POWs found themselves into a compound surrounded by barbed wire. There were wooden barracks, dust, a few cacti and not much else, excepting large numbers of POWs, mostly Americans but also a few Germans in dishevelled Feldgrau uniforms. An inordinately large proportion of them were officers, maybe a third.
A German Major in black pilot leather jacket with Fallschirmjäger insignia and a peaked cap on his head approached them. Slightly puff-eyed, he seemed to be in his mid thirties.
‘I saw you get unloaded – you were with Oberst Reitsch, right?’
He spoke British English perfectly, without even the slightest trace of German accent.
‘Who wants to know?’ Buck said sullenly.
The German saluted formally, even smacking his heels together. Only the slightest crook to the corner of his mouth betrayed he wasn’t as Prussianly serious as he might have been. ‘Major Kurt Steiner, formerly 7th Flieger-Division, more recently the 37th Reconaissance Battalion, 7th Panzer-Division.’
‘Lieutenant Aristoteles Savalas, Colorado National Guard, Sir!’
‘And I’m Captain William Rogers, US Army Air Corps.’
‘Welcome to Yuma POW camp, gentlemen. But tell me, your young yellow friend here, can he be trusted?’
Short Round made a face and stuck out his tongue at the tall German. ‘You smell very badly Mister!’
Steiner laughed, but his blue-grey eyes were still hard.
‘I’d trust him more than you anyway, kraut!’ Telly said hotly.
‘That’s good to know, since he’s clearly less American than I. That’s not a joke - my mother was American, from Boston, you see. Does he speak Mandarin or Japanese?’
Telly shook his head. ‘Cantonese, actually. He deserted from the other side to warn us about the Pan-Asian offensive. And our captain knew him before the war, worked with him doing archaeology in China. He trusted the boy with his life, and so do I.’
‘Archaeology? Have I heard of him?’
‘Perhaps, Dr Henry Jones of Marshall College, he discovered Attila’s tomb last…’
‘Indiana Jones!’ Steiner laughed. ‘My God, that was a fantastic find! I read all about it in the papers. And you served with this man? Congratulations! Now, come, all three of you. You see we have a plan, and your friend could come in veeery handy…
