Chapter 6

Two Road Blocks

It was another uneventful day for Adolf Kueller. People checked in. People checked out. People asking recommendations for places to eat, places to have fun, places to see historical sites. Of course, Adolf carried out his duties as assistant manager of one of the fanciest, most popular hotels in Austria with finesse and a friendly smile.

However, what most people did not know about Adolf Kueller was how much he despised it all. He hated rich, snobby aristocrats and their constant belittling of others not within their social realms. He even hated the hotel because it was made exclusively for those types of people. But perhaps most of all, he hated his manager. It was a hatred that ran deep, ever since the old man teased him when he was just a kid. Being his nephew gave him his position as assistant manager which, at the time, seemed advantageous. Adolf had hopes of one day running the hotel for himself. However, it soon became apparent that after his manager died, the business would be carried on to his son, not him.

And so, Adolf was in the middle of considering two assassination plots when Indiana Jones walked through the double-glass doors and to his counter. Despite his loathing of celebrities as well, Adolf rather liked the world-famous archeologist, thinking of him as an exception to his views.

"Welcome back, Doctor Jones!" Adolf said enthusiastically in his perfected English.

Indy flashed his Oscar-winning smile. "Just came back from a dig site."

"Did you find anything?" Adolf inquired, liking to hear about new findings.

"Actually, I just got an emergency call sending me back to America. Something about finding Noah's Ark. So, I wish I could stay longer, but I need to check out."

"Oh, but your friends already checked you out hours ago!"

Indy seemed to hesitate for a moment but then quickly turned away as he was thrown into a coughing fit. Adolf asked if he was all right, but the doctor could not respond. Just when he was considering getting a glass of water, Indiana recovered.

"Which friends are these?" he asked, clearing his throat. "I have many in this area."

"Professor Brody and a woman."

"A woman?"

"Yes, a young woman was with him. I didn't recognize her . . ." Adolf thought for a moment. "She had blonde hair. Blonde hair and . . . grey or green eyes? I'm not certain. Anyway, Marcus checked out, returning his room key and yours."

"Did they say where they would be going?"

Adolf paused. "No. They just said that they were leaving. Come to think of it, they were in quite a hurry." Suddenly, an idea sprang into mind. "Maybe they went to see you at the dig site."

Indy nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like something Marcus would do. Well, then, I'd better be off to meet them."

"Sorry I couldn't have been of any more help. Good luck!"

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Hauptman Streiger rushed through the double glass doors of the hotel, his mind racing. As if his task was not hard enough before, now two friends of Indiana Jones were taking action. I probably have that assistant manager fooled, even with my fake coughing, he thought. But Brody and the woman must know he disappeared and are now suspicious! And knowing the real Doctor Jones, they'll probably suspect that he was captured by Nazis!

Streiger crossed the street to a parked car. He entered thorough one of the side doors and slammed it shut.

"Verdammt!" he exclaimed, throwing the true-to-life reproduction of Indiana Jones' hat to the ground.

"What is it?" his chauffeur asked, addressing him in German.

Strieger gave the chauffeur a hard stare. He felt certain that the man was probably a Gestapo agent, making certain that "Indy" was doing the right thing, given orders to execute him if there were any mess ups. Already he had made the mistake of losing his temper, but he knew he was not the one at fault.

"Send me to Gestapo Headquarters," he demanded.

"Is there a problem?" the driver asked, viewing Streiger through a rearview mirror.

"Intelligence made an error," Streiger said determinedly.

Streiger wished he could see his chauffeur's face but he did not turn his head. "Intelligence does not make very many mistakes, if any at all."

Streiger heaved an irritated sigh. Despite the fear of being shot at any moment, he would not allow himself to be coerced. "Really? First, I had to make that appearance on the train just so I could be sent back all the way to Austria to find out that Intelligence was not aware, or did not care to mention, that two others were with Doctor Jones! Send me to Gestapo Headquarters immediately!"

The driver shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner and started the car engine. It would be a long drive, but Streiger knew he could not relax. He had to know just what to say to the Gestapo, considering that it was going to be in the form of a complaint, and stay alert just in case the driver decided he was becoming too rebellious or disloyal. However, his mind turned back to what the assistant manager had said.

Blond . . . he thought as the car drove away.