CIA Office
Undisclosed Location
Somewhere in the USA
1960
An older dark haired woman strode into Mac's office, past his demure secretary, carrying a shotgun, grinning mercilessly.
"Marion... Ravenwood... Jones," Mac stared, stunned.
His coffee spilled onto the reports from Kamchatka. It crossed his desk and drained off the edge, burning his leg as Marion leveled the shotgun at Mac's face. "Mac - I told you, in 1942 - not to lose my husband! The threat still stands."
He swallowed, staring at the barrel of the shotgun. "Is that the same one you threatened me with when I showed up at your ranch last time?"
"Yes. An anniversary gift from Indy... after our impromptu trip across Nazi occupied Europe, on a mission from you..."
"That's... dangerous... of him to gift you with a... firearm."
"Well... we saw what happened when I didn't have a shotgun under my bar in 1936, and decided it would be a good family investment. Especially since I was home alone often with two baby girls. No thanks to you." Marion sat her hip on Mac's desk. "So - where'd you send him this time?"
"That's classified."
"Hmmm," Marion moved the shotgun closer, cradling it in her arms like most women did with babies. "Too bad I know the location of your son."
"Don't threaten me, Mrs. Jones. Jake is recuperating from the Sidenstrasse Mission well and -"
"And went jogging this morning," Marion smiled. "He stopped to help my lovely firstborn daughter Annie fix our old truck. He's now in a box - somewhere between here and my father-in-law, Henry Jones Senior."
"What?" Mac growled. "You kidnapped my son-?"
"You lost my husband... and youngest daughter," Marion countered sweetly with a roguish shrug that Mac was certain she'd learned from her husband.
And he knew that when she got out the sweet voice - mutually assured destruction was a clear and present danger.
"Hands on the desk, Mac!" Marion ordered. "Your reports are difficult enough to read with the coffee stains. Wouldn't want to be figuring out the contents with bloodstains too."
Mac kept his hands on the desk. "Marion - Mrs. Jones - this is not how procedure works around here."
"Oh, its exactly how government works, Mac. You have to show up. Calling and letters don't hold that much weight. When you show up - shit gets done. Bring Indy and Emily home. Now."
"I can't just -"
"Oh yes you can. You got them to Mysterious Top Secret Russian Territory - you are perfectly capable of getting them out. I mean, I could go... but you really don't want me making the Cold War hot again, do you?"
Mac swallowed, staring at Marion's sweetly malicious grin. "No ma'am. You're just crazy enough to do that too."