The Adventures of Indiana Jones and Short Round

7

The third flight lost the magic of the first, but the city of Istanbul brought the wonder back. While Shanghai was full cramped streets and, in his area, poorly built housing, Istanbul was mostly made up of beautiful stone architecture. 

The trio pushed their way through the crowded marketplace. Instead of the smell of frying oil, seafood, and, in the worst parts, opium, Short Round's nose tickled with the scent of spices, coffee, and oranges. They passed by a stall selling Turkish sweets and the pickpocket may or may not have swiped a piece when Indiana Jones and Wu Han's backs were turned. The sugary treat bombarded his tongue. Glancing behind him, Indy noticed Short Round sucking on something happily and just shook his head in disapproval. 

Finally, the archeologist turned into a shop with his friends in tow. A bell rang as the door was opened and a Turkish man popped up from behind the counter. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of the foreigners, brown eyes shining at the prospect of a pretty coin. Tourists were always ready to pay handsomely. 

  "Welcome to my pawn shop, my friends," he greeted grandly, spreading out his hands. "What can I do for you?"

Indiana Jones kept his hat low over his eyes, shading his face. Even to Short Round, there was an air of mystery around the man when he did so. The pawn shop owner's smile faded some. 

  "Is there anything you're looking for in particular?" 

  "Actually, there is." Indy placed his hands on the counter. The American towered over the Turk. "I'm looking for Narhachi. A tip led me to your pawn shop." 

  The trembling man glanced at Indy's whip and the bulge under his leather jacket. "Ah. Yes, yes. I have him right here." Carefully, he reached under his counter and placed the Manchu jade urn on the surface. "The price is 14968 lira or two thousand U.S. dollar." 

Indy grimaced and reached back. His jacket followed his arm, revealing his gun. The pawn shop owner visibly paled. 

  "Though for you, sir, I can negotiate down to–"

  "Relax," Indy grunted, pulling out his wallet and thumbing through his Turkish currency. "Here." He handed over the set amount. 

Warily, the man reached out and took the money as the experienced archeologist took the urn. 

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. Short Round instinctively ducked and turned to see the shooter. It was a Chinese man dressed in a black tux and pants. It was one of Lao Che's goons. 

Strong arms snagged his torso and he was dragged behind a display as another volley of gunfire rang out. Indiana Jones shoved the urn into his hands then pulled out his gun and unwound his bullwhip. 

  "Stay here and protect Narhachi. He's trying to steal it before we can make the trade." 

Before Shorty could protest, Indy caught Wu Han's signal and lurched forward, using his friend's cover fire to move close enough to whip the gun out of their attacker's hand. 

Short Round watched the skirmish from behind a shelf full of now broken treasures. The pawn shop owner crawled away to safety through the back, lamenting his shattered wares. 

While the boy watched the fight, he failed to notice that the assailant had partners. He felt someone watching him and glanced up... and up and up. 

Clasping Narhachi closer to his chest, Short Round briefly wished he had his knife with him. Indy had told him that airport security wouldn't let him take it on board. They only let Wu Han and Indiana Jones take their guns because of their licenses and if they kept them stored in their suitcases.