Biological Families

Author: duane at duaneaakre dot com

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing. Well I own a house, two cars, a pair of jetskis, and a lot of other junk, but none of these characters.

Story Rating: R [The story may drift into the HBO range rather than stay in the WB range, so to be on the safe side, I am rating this R.]

Chapter 7

"I found him!" exclaimed Lana when she finally tracked down Clark and Whitney at their 'house' in the Olympic Village. This was still the 1930's and the women on the American team where staying in different houses than the men. With the guys training with the track & field team and she with the fencing team, they had rarely seen each other during the day for the three days they had been back here.

Lana had spent most of her free time every day on the phone calling hotels in search of the elusive Dr. Jones. At last her diligence had paid off.

"Where?" asked Clark climbing to his feet from where he and Whitney had been sitting in the shared living room of the house. Opening the front door, he led them back out onto the front porch where they would have more privacy in case the conversation drifted into the wrong areas. It certainly wouldn't do to have others on the track team learn they were from the future or about their special 'gifts'.

"The Schlosshotel. It is a small, relatively new hotel located just off Potsdamer Platz. Well, new as a hotel, it was a private mansion for over fifty years before the conversion eight years ago. Apparently, like a lot of other people during the post-World War I era in Germany, the owners went through hard times and had to convert it to a hotel to survive. Unfortunately, there are a lot of these 20-30 room former mansions turned hotels in Berlin to search, which is why it took me so long to find him."

"So he is really here," remarked Whitney.

Lana shook her head. "A 'Dr. and Mrs. Jones' are registered at the hotel. It looks like the Jones last name was just a coincidence."

Whitney nodded with a mild look of disappointment on his face. On top of everything else that had happened since they had been back here, it would have been so cool to have met Indiana Jones.

"Where is this Potsdamer Platz?" asked Clark.

"Central Berlin, about thirty kilometers from here. It is sort of the Berlin version of Fifth Avenue and Times Square all rolled into one. An express train leaves from the Olympic station for there every 45 minutes."

"What are we waiting for?" asked Clark already heading down the front steps. "Let's go."

"Clark, you know Coach Robertson is seriously enforcing the nine o'clock curfew," answered Whitney. "I doubt we can get there by train and back in two hours."

Clark looked at Whitney. "You are taking this Olympic thing way too seriously. Don't forget the main reason we are here is to hook up with this Dr. Jones and get the alien device to save Chloe and Lex."

"I agree with Clark," said Lana. "The sooner we meet Dr. Jones, the more time we will have to convince him to help us. We need to stay focused here." Even Lana had found it easy to become wrapped up in the whole Olympic atmosphere and after three days it was sometimes hard to remember that back in their own time they only had a few minutes left to rescue Lex and Chloe.

By the time they made the train connection, arrived at Potsdamer Platz, and found the elegant side street on which the Schlosshotel was located, it was well after eight in the evening. In another half hour it would be truly dark and already the old-style gas streetlamps had been lit on this street. The street itself was busy with both pedestrian traffic and horse-drawn carriages; far more horse-drawn carriages than any of 21st century teenagers had expected at this point in time well over thirty years into the automotive age.

The street was lined by magnificent mansions set well back behind imposing stone walls. They had walked slightly over three blocks from the platz before reaching the Schlosshotel and noticed almost two-thirds of the mansions had discrete hotel signs on their front gates.

After entering the property via the small pedestrian gate, they walked through an ornate, immaculate garden accented with pale yellow roses before reaching the main entrance to the mansion. As soon as they stepped inside, they were greeted by a pleasant, middle-aged major domo in formal attire.

"Good evening, Madame, gentlemen, I am Karl," began the man in German with a deep baritone voice. "How may I be of service?"

Lana smiled and responded also in fluent German. "Good evening. We would like to speak with Dr. Jones, please."

The man frowned for the barest moment before regaining his benign smile. "I do not believe Dr. Jones is in the hotel at the moment. However you are welcome to leave a message. Or Mrs. Jones is in and I could ring her."

Lana couldn't completely keep her disappointment off of her face; they had been waiting so long for this meeting and now it looked like it was going to be at least another day. However since they had come all this way, they might as well at least try to talk to his wife. Perhaps she could provide some information about her husband's background which might clarify why he would be receiving the artifact from the German officer. And hopefully that would suggest some ideas on how best to broach the topic when they did finally meet Dr. Jones.

"If you could ring her, that would be great," said Lana throwing in one of her most endearing smiles. Then hoping Dr. Jones was not a simple country doctor, but some kind of professor or instructor, she added. "We are former students of Dr. Jones. We just found out he was in town and hoped we would have a chance to say hello."

"Of course," responded the clerk and then with a slight bow he retreated behind the desk and picked up the house phone.

"Well?" asked Clark in a subdued voice.

"Dr. Jones isn't here, but his wife is. The desk clerk is calling to see if she is interested in meeting us."

Before Clark or Whitney had a chance to respond, the clerk quickly returned.

"Mrs. Jones will be happy to see you. She is in the honeymoon suite." He gestured towards the grand staircase at the back of the entrance hall. "Take a left at the top of the stairs and then it will be the last door on your left."

Lana nodded her thanks and then led the way up the marble stairs. As she translated for the others, she spared a moment to take in the oil paintings lining the walls. From the numerous portraits of men in elegantly beribboned dress uniforms, a tradition of military service was apparent for the family of the owners.

At the top of the stairs Lana turned left and started down the long corridor. As she walked, she once again pondered the fates that had led to this moment. Back in ancient Rome, Chloe had been the undisputed leader of their group, based on previous experience there and her thousands of years of experience leading men and nations. Then there had also been Lex with his whole life spent mingling with the rich and powerful. But now neither of them were here. Oh, Clark was still present with all of his incredible strength and speed, but with her newfound gift for languages, it was Lana who had been forced into the position of leadership in their new, small group. And Lana realized, almost a little surprised, she was having fun being in charge, which was a far cry from how she had felt during most of her time in ancient Rome. For a long time, her greatest fear back there had been that she would be separated from the others and find herself all alone in a scary, barbaric civilization where she couldn't even speak the language. Ultimately, she had learned the language and hadn't been separated, but still she had ended up tortured and killed. However, now, on this latest time travel adventure with her nanobot enhanced body, she was experiencing a constant rush of vitality and a feeling of nearly limitless power with her effectively universal language skills and seemingly endless supply of stored knowledge.

So, in a better mood than she had been in only moments earlier, Lana quelled the butterflies in her stomach, briskly stepped up to the door of the Jones' suite, and firmly knocked.

"Yes," said a woman's voice through the closed door.

"Mrs. Jones, my name is Lana Lang. I would like to talk to you for a minute, if that is okay," answered Lana in English.

Lana could hear the deadbolt being withdrawn and then the door swung slowly open.

"You're American," exclaimed the woman, also in American-accented English.

Mrs. Jones was a tall woman for her era. At least 5'8", she seemed to tower over Lana. At first glance she looked in her late twenties, but as Lana looked more closely, she took in the fine lines around her eyes and the handful of gray hairs scattered around her otherwise brunette hair and quickly revised her estimate upwards closer to forty, a well preserved forty. She was dressed in a conservative gray skirt, matching jacket and white blouse. The cut of the clothes was definitely from the 1930's, but somehow they suited her better than the similar style seemed to work for Lana. Perhaps it was just what the woman was used to wearing and therefore she was more comfortable, while Lana would have been more at home in jeans and a tee-shirt.

"It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Jones," said Lana as she extended her right hand. Mrs. Jones absently took the offered hand while giving the two tall men flanking Lana the quick once over.

Quickly, Lana indicated the others. "This is Whitney Fordman and Clark Kent."

After Clark and Whitney said hello in English, Mrs. Jones visibly relaxed a little. "Do come in. And please, call me Marion."

While the three stepped past her, they shared a glanced that said, 'Marion? As in Marion Ravenwood?'

After Marion Jones sent a surprisingly furtive glance down the corridor as though she was expecting the boogey-man to be lurking just outside of her suite, she closed the door and turned back to the three teenagers, a genuine smile gracing her face for the first time.

"Do have a seat," she said gesturing to the two large sofas facing the unlit fireplace in the large sitting room of the spacious suite. As with the walls of the grand staircase, the walls of the sitting room were covered with paintings of men in military uniform, although here, some of the paintings were more in the form of family portraits. "I wasn't expecting guests, but I would be happy to order up room service, if there is anything you would like."

Lana shook her head politely. "Thanks, but no. We don't want to take up too much of your time."

Marion nodded and then took a seat near Lana on the coach opposite the boys. "So, Karl said you were students of Hank's? You look a little young, or am I getting that old?"

'My god', thought Lana. 'It really is Henry -Indiana- Jones and Marion Ravenwood. Although Marion doesn't look very much like the actress, Karen Allen, the real Marion does look a lot tougher and stronger willed, like she could really run a bar in remote Tibet or kick some ass in a tight situation. And when did they get married?'

Lana grinned, although what part of the current situation was the primary reason eluded her at the moment. "No, you're not getting that old. We are a little younger than his students, but it seemed like the simplest thing to say. I am very interested in archeology and hope to make it my career someday. I have followed your husband's career for a long time and when I found out he was also in Berlin, I had to try and meet him. Although I must admit I know more about his professional career than his personal life; as I didn't even realize he was married."

"Oh, no reason you would know about our marriage, it only happened three weeks ago. We were on our honeymoon in Paris when Hank received an urgent call from one of his contacts here in Berlin." As she spoke, Marion unconsciously was toying with her ring, a very atypical wedding band. It had a large, light blue stone, not an actual jewel, but something that fell more into semi-precious stone category. Even more unusual was the heavy gold band with numerous tiny engraved characters. Even without a good look, Lana could tell it was a very old antique.

"That is a very unusual ring," commented Lana.

"Hank found it on one of his expeditions. Here, take a closer look." Then Marion slid the ring off of her finger and handed it to Lana.

Taking the ring, she turned it slowly over in her hand. "It is very rare to see a Lapis Lazuli stone in this light shade of blue. It must be from Chile. And the ring itself bears that out. From the symbol for 'divine power' it is obvious this is from the early Olmec era, about 825 B.C. Although the way the wavy lines are located on the bottom edge of the symbol, I would have to say this is from the offshoot civilization located along the north shore of Lake Titicaca."

"Lake Titicaca?" echoed Whitney in a tone that suggested he thought she was pulling their leg.

Absently Lana answered as she continued to examine the ring, "A large South American lake on the border between modern Peru and Bolivia."

"You can read the inscription?" asked Marion in an excited tone. Ever since Hank had first given her the ring back in Tibet, she had tried to decipher the symbols. When they had finally, briefly, returned to the States, she had even consulted with the experts at the Smithsonian and at Yale without any luck.

"Sure," answered Lana, forgetting for the moment this was a very obscure, lost language, which only she and Chloe could possibly know. "It grants the wearer divine power over all of the inhabitants between the Apurimac River in the north and the Salar de Uyuni Plain in the south. Since it uses the feminine form for 'wearer', it clearly dates the ring between 837 BC and 814 BC, which is the only period when the Olmec Empire was a matriarchy."

Marion stared at the young girl who couldn't possibly know all these details of a supposedly 'lost' civilization. However Hank had said the ring had been found in a burial mound near Lake Titicaca.

"Lana, this wouldn't be another story from our sometimes blonde friend?" asked Clark trying not to be too obvious about warning Lana she was stepping into things not prudently discussed in front of strangers.

"Yeah, she was known as Atalaya during that era. She gave the ring to her daughter, Azurduy, when she turned the empire over to her." Abruptly, Lana stopped speaking as she realized the ring had triggered another memory from one of Chloe's former lives, which had been accidentally added to her 'bot memory system. She had been so caught up in the moment, she had rambled on about things which shouldn't be said in front of Marion. Particularly since she was the current owner of the ring AND was married to an archeologist.

Trying to get the conversation headed back in the direction they needed, Lana deliberately shook her had as though to clear it and then handed the ring back. "Sorry, about that. The Olmec history and language has always been a special interest of mine and I can easily get distracted and head off on a tangent. If your husband is interested, I would be happy to discuss my research with him. When do you expect him back so we could make an appointment?"

Marion was still marveling at the extent of this teenage girl's apparent knowledge of an obscure, long dead civilization when the girl's final words sank in. For a few minutes her thoughts had been distracted from her worries about her husband.

Her hands once again started to nervously fiddle with her ring as she answered. "I am not sure when he will be available. He left this morning for a 10 AM appointment that was only suppose to take an hour, but I haven't heard from him since. In his line of work, things can take a lot longer than expected, but I am starting to get a little concerned."

Lana, Whitney, and Clark exchanged a glance. If Indiana Jones was missing, it might be up to them to find him in time for the exchange at the Opening Ceremony, now only four days away.

Lana had just turned back towards Marion to voice their encouragement and to start pumping her for information to begin their search for Indy, when suddenly the door to the hotel hallway exploded inward. And this wasn't a simple case of the lock being torn loose and the door pivoting on its hinges. No, the door and a large portion of its heavy enclosing frame were torn from the wall and hurled halfway across the room. As the four occupants of the room wrenched their heads around at the noise, two men dress all in black without any identifying insignia stepped through the shattered doorway.

Whitney, who was seated closest to the door, rose to his feet and stepped towards the intruders. Whitney towered over these merely average height men, but when he had approached within arm's reach, one of the men grabbed Whitney's shirtfront with one hand and casually tossed him fifteen feet across the room. Whitney hit the wall next to the fireplace and everyone in the room clearly heard the loud double 'snap' as his left arm hit the mantle and both bones in his forearm shattered.

Before his body had even slumped to the ground, Lana was already up out of her seat and moving towards him.

Clark immediately realized three things. First, he needed to buy Lana the few seconds she would need to heal Whitney. Second, whoever these guys were, they were much stronger than normal humans. And finally, they must be somehow connected to the disappearance of Indy and he needed them to lead him to wherever Indy was being held. Oh, he felt confident he could take them, but he wasn't sure they would talk. No, it was better if they thought they had the upper hand for the present.

Quickly, Clark rose, took two steps towards them, which happened to place him between the intruders and the others, and fell to his knees while raising his hands in a beseeching manner. In his best whiny voice, Clark said. "Please don't hurt me. I'll give you anything you want." Then Clark reached into his pocket and quickly pulled out a large roll of bills.

Grabbing the money from Clark's hand, one of the intruders said with a laugh in very thickly accented English. "Thanks, kid." Then after pocketing the money, the man grabbed the lapels of Clark's suit coat in both hands and tossed him towards the wall separating the sitting room from the bedroom. Tossed him very, very hard.

Clark's body crossed the intervening twenty feet in a fraction of a second and then the whole building shook as he crashed through the wall. And this wall was no lightweight twenty first century wall made from two-by-fours and cheap drywall. No, the wall was built with heavy stone blocks reinforced with 12 inch by 12 inch timbers. Clark's passage through the wall destroyed two of the main timbers and a six foot wide section of the ceiling collapsed into the vacant hole.

Clark finally came to rest sprawled half on and half off the bed. He lay there for a moment stunned, more in surprise than from any injury. Who were these guys? The only times he had run into people who could toss him around like this, they had always turned out to be meteor rock freaks. But he hadn't felt any of the typical meteor rock induced weakness when the man had grabbed him. So what were they? If they were somehow involved with the alien artifact they were seeking, could they be from the same place Clark was originally from? Were they the first members of his own race he was going to meet? If so, Clark was not impressed. They acted like nothing more than hired thugs.

If they assumed Clark was just a normal human, then they would assume he was dead or seriously injured. Since he could monitor the action in the other room with his x-ray vision, Clark decided it was best to leave them believing he was incapacitated for the moment. Still trying to understand who these guys were, Clark watched and listened.

While Clark was distracting the intruders, Lana quickly reached Whitney and grasped one of his hands. He had been stunned by the force of his impact, but it only took a couple of seconds after Lana had activated the 'bots in his body for his head to clear. Through the mind-link Lana said, 'Lay still. Your arm will be repaired in seven more seconds.'

'How did we ever survive before the nanobots?' asked Whitney.

Lana could hear the humor in his thoughts. 'Dumb luck, mostly. Or more likely, unnoticed action by Clark. Okay, time for you to appear to come around. Remember to act groggy and that your left arm is supposed to be broken.'

'Yes, Mother.' Then Whitney moaned and slowly sat up. Cradling his left arm against his body, Whitney flung his right arm across Lana's shoulder and slowly levered himself to his feet. As he stood swaying slightly, he saw for the first time the large hole where Clark had crashed through the wall.

'Shit, is Clark okay?'

Lana glanced over at the wall. 'I didn't see it first hand, but back in Rome Clark apparently tossed over two hundred feet, a six foot diameter, fifty foot long stone pillar, which had to weigh hundreds of thousands of pounds. If he can do that, smashing through one small wall is not going to hurt him.' She knew her comments were true, but she still couldn't help being a little concerned when Clark didn't reappear.

By this time, one of the intruders had reached Marion and grabbed her arm. "Wait. Why are you doing this? I'm not rich. No one is going to pay a ransom to get me back."

"This is not about ransom," snarled the man holding her arm. "It is about motivation. Apparently your husband needs a little motivation to convince him to tell us what we need to know."

Pulling Marion towards the door, he continued. "Wolfgang, grab those other two. Perhaps if we start on them first, it will convince Dr. Jones we are serious when we get around to his wife."

Wolfgang grabbed Whitney and Lana each by the upper arm with a vice-like grip forcing them to walk one on each side of him as they exited the room. This position broke the physical contact they had been maintaining and left alone in their heads with nothing to think about except how to escape from this dangerous situation.

Quickly the three hostages were led down the hall to a small service stairway which exited in the servant quarters on the ground floor. Continuing towards the back, the small party soon found themselves in a dark alleyway where they were rapidly forced into the back of a waiting van. As they arranged themselves on the floor, Lana managed to maneuver herself to be sitting next to Whitney so she could translate any useful conversations for him and they could use the mind-link to plan their strategy.

Almost before they were seated, the idling van was thrown into gear and accelerated away. As they veered from street to street as though the driver was trying to lose any potential tail, Marion spoke up.

"I am so sorry you got dragged into this. And your friend, my God, I hope he isn't seriously hurt or worse." When Hank had suggested to her that they detour to Berlin based on the faintest rumor of another powerful Biblical relic having been recovered, she had protested they had barely survived their last encounter with the Nazis in Egypt and then on that small Aegean island. But she had finally acquiesced and now look at the mess they were in. Hank was being held captive somewhere. She had been kidnapped. And three high school aged kids had been caught in the middle. At least she had had an inkling of what they might be getting into based on their past experiences, but not these poor kids.

Lana looked over their surroundings, but didn't see anything that would immediately help to get them out of this situation. The two men who had so easily thrown Whitney and Clark around were riding in the back of the van with them, so trying anything like breaking down the back door was out of the question. But the men didn't seem interested in preventing Marion from talking. They must feel they were in control and it just didn't matter.

Lana wanted to learn more about what Marion knew about the situation, but their captors obviously spoke English and German. Would they stop her if she spoke a more obscure language? If Marion was really the Marion from the movies and had spent ten years in Tibet, she should be conversant in the Gtsang dialect of central Tibet.

Speaking softly Lana addressed her in that language. "Don't worry about us; we have been in much tighter situations before. And Clark, he is very tough. I am sure he is already in pursuit. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if he isn't just waiting for these people to lead us to your husband before he acts. Now, do you have any idea what is going on? What we are in the middle of?"

Marion's mouth dropped open in surprise when the girl, no, when Lana started speaking. How many Americans could speak the Gtsang dialect? She thought until now the answer was less then 20. Who was this girl? First, her unexplainable knowledge about the Olmecs and now this. She could almost believe her when she said they had been in dangerous situations before. Maybe they could help, if they knew more.

"Hank heard rumors of a powerful Biblical relic having come into the hands of the Nazis," began Marion in the same language Lana had used. "We came to Berlin so he could check with several of his contacts."

Lana interrupted. "You mean another object like the Ark of the Covenant?"

Marion looked at her sharply. "You know about the Ark?" Lana nodded. "Yeah, another object like the Ark or the Grail cup."

Whitney, who had been listening to the girls' conversation through the mind-link with Lana, said to Lana through the same link, 'Wait, that can't be right. The grail adventure doesn't take place until 1938.'

'Yeah, and Indy and Marion weren't married,' responded Lana. 'Obviously, the real events were similar, but not exactly the same as the movie version. Now, shush. We need to find out more about what is going on. Is this new mysterious biblical relic related to the alien artifact we came for, or do we have two distinct problems to resolve before we can hope to return home?'

End of Chapter 7

To be continued.

Author's Notes:

Just a quick teaser chapter before I head out on vacation, hope you liked it.

Now, before the Indiana Jones Continuity Police start attacking me, I suggest you send your complaints to Lucas and Spielberg instead, although it is primarily Steven who screwed up the continuity of the movies. Let me back up a little and explain. George Lucas met the elderly Henry Jones in March 1973. (Indy was just a nickname he had as a kid and he hated it. When I first met him, he was nearly 80 and I still saw him punch someone out for calling him that. I use the name Indy occasionally in the story because people expect it, but I would never have said it to his face.) This was while he was working on 'American Graffiti', but before he reached fame and fortune with 'Star Wars'. Jones told him the stories that would evolve into the three movies and the correct sequence was the Grail Adventure in 1933, the Temple of Doom Adventure in 1935, and the Lost Ark Adventure in 1936. George thought the Lost Ark Adventure was the most exciting and would make the best movie. He was already working on it during the filming of the first Star Wars movie. When he made it big, he still decided to do that story first, even though it was chronologically last. After the first 'Jones' movie brought in a huge return at the box office, George just decided to do them in reverse order (and as can be seen by people's reaction to the Star Wars prequels, he makes his own choices and rarely gives a damn what anyone else thinks). It was Spielberg who prevailed on George to set the grail story after the other two to give the audience a sense of closure. But this is not the real sequence of events. In at least this instance, I can prove that my timeline is correct. If you watch the movie, 'Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade', closely, there is only one event that is easily dated: the book burning sequence in Berlin. This event happened in the spring of 1933, shortly after Adolph Hitler took control of Germany. And don't just take my word for it, spend five minutes to open up Google or your favorite search engine and type the phrase 'Nazi Book Burning' and look at the proof for yourself. Obviously, when Steven made his little alteration of the truth, he didn't realize we would all soon have access to something like the Internet to check his facts.

Anyway, back to Henry Jones. As I said, Lucas met him in March of 1973. I didn't meet him until the fall of the following year. Now perhaps I have a more trustworthy face than Lucas, or perhaps it was because Jones had been burned by movie people before, or perhaps it was simply our mutual friend, Jim Beam, but Jones imparted to me, but not Lucas, his part of the story I am now telling. He did, however, swear me to secrecy and I agreed not to pass on these events to anyone for at least thirty years to ensure the time line would not be disrupted. Well, I am a man of my word, but the thirty years have now passed and I can safely pass this story on.

In some ways it is too bad Lucas didn't get this story as well, since in many ways it is the most exciting of the lot. I mean in both the Ark and Grail adventures it was all about the race to get the relic before the Nazis. And if they did possess those relics briefly, the Nazis did so only to their ultimate peril. However in this adventure the Nazis were already in possession of this latest relic and were using this incredible manifestation of God's power before Jones was even aware of it. If not for the eventual teaming of Jones and Clark Kent, well, the world would be a much different place.

But I have hinted enough about the upcoming chapters for now, until next time –

Duane