DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the Indiana Jones characters. The only characters of mine (Lydia Marques, Alessa Harding, Hedrick Velheim) have just temporarily joined the Joneses on one of their adventures. No copyright infringement on any of George Lucas's/Steven Spielberg's works is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Velheim contemplates the Joneses' escape.

Chapter 10

Berlin was quiet—almost eerily so. Very few beams of light dared to break through the stormy layer of haze that had arisen the day after Lydia Marques's departure. Large droplets of steamy rain fell onto shingled rooftops and tin awnings, dripping noisily.

The gray-haired colonel watched the clouds drift to cover the sun and pull a thin veil over light, his hands held tensely behind his back. His blue eyes taking in the cityscape, he examined the dead-looking capital from his single window. The sunlight shot streaks of saffron into his crystal irises, blinding him some. He squinted and squeezed his hands together harder. He feared that if he released his grip on either wrist, he would go mad and strangle one of the soldiers posted at the doorway of his office.

They had lost the Joneses. Twice.

It was overcast outside, and the same within the plain workplace of Velheim. The climate was a mirror image of him; the darkened sky matched his angry features, and the hot temperature was accurately equivalent to his fuming thoughts. The filtered light shone weakly through the one large window of his operating area, making the wood of the mahogany desk shine.

Snapping his heels, the man spun and paced the edge of his desk. The thought was unbearable—to be so close to your goal only to have the ground fall from underneath your feet! Somehow, the Joneses had evaded his troops and entered the square without being noticed. And then had outrun his soldiers—on horses!

"What can we do?" Velheim was speaking partly to himself and partly to the sergeant posted at his large pair of double doors. The young man perked up and looked confused, wondering if he should answer. His black-mopped head cocked to the side a fraction; he stepped forward and slid into a waiting posture.

Velheim looked up, appearing beaten. "Do we know where they went?"

"Ja, Herr Colonel. In the direction of the train station."

The colonel straightened. "Train?" he echoed in a whisper. The troubled lines that creased his forehead were darkened by shadows. He struggled with his memory. "The execution was scheduled for noon, correct?"

The other looked thoughtful. "Yes, sir. It was about four minutes before twelve o'clock when you reached Fisentung Square."

"What lines leave at noon?"

The sergeant shook his head blankly. "Many, sir."

"Care to guess?" Velheim was being satirical, cupping a cheek in his hand and leaning tiredly onto it, putting his weight onto the desk. But the sergeant took him seriously.

"I think there are seventy that pass through there—"

"Perfect," Velheim mumbled into his palm, looking in the direction of the window. The movement sent rays of sunshine shooting across his face, crystallizing the sapphire spheres of his eyes.

"—but only a dozen or so leave at midday."

Velheim glanced up, the hope and color budding on his face. Things might not be so terrible after all. "What dozen?"

"I don't know, Herr Colonel." The adolescent bounced on the soles of his feet uninterestedly. "But I believe Lieutenant Releigh and three others were on one of them, bound for Munich. They just received the assignment today."

"The Munich line… it goes on…" Velheim trailed off, recalling. He stared at the hand on his desk, the scars in his knuckles clearly seen in the faint orange light. "… to Switzerland?"

"Yes, Herr Colonel, but they can't go there—"

"That's it, then." The expressionless colonel nodded and set his jaw, leaning wearily on his desk, supported by his elbows. He breathed slowly through his nose to calm himself. "The spineless dogs fled to neutral ground."

Realizing their helpless situation, the sergeant fought for an idea. "What can we do?" His grasp on the gun was strangling. Apprehension suddenly tightened his features as he leaned forward anxiously, looking like a weedy tree bent in a soft breeze.

Hedrick Velheim looked up with an eyebrow sarcastically curved. "How strange, Sergeant. I believe that's exactly what I asked you at the beginning of this discussion."