Indiana Jones & the Peril at Delphi

of his right to do so. 'You're a clever strategist, Dorian. You'd make a good man. A better one than most. Must be why I like you.'

She brushed a hand against his cheek; his skin felt rough even though he had just shaved. 'You only like me? I thought you loved me.'

He grasped her hand. His features softened as much as was possible for a man whose very glance caused his men to quaver. 'Of course I do, and I've missed you.' He pulled her to him, and kissed her with a sudden urgency.

'I've missed you, too,' she whispered, and drew back from him. 'Was it horrible?'

'A slaughter. Beyond words. And there was nothing I could do to prevent it.'

'All the more reason for what we must do.'

He studied her for a moment, perhaps trying to read her thoughts by the intensity and sincerity of her eyes, her expression. 'I know you have to become close to the Ameri can, but I hope you aren't taking your task too seriously.'

She smiled at him for the first time. 'Are you jealous, Alex?'

'No.' He raked his fingers back through his short, kinky hair. 'Not yet.' He took her hand again. They started to walk. His hawk nose, silhouetted in the pale light, looked like a sharp, deadly beak. 'Jealousy is like hatred: an emotion that wastes energy.'

'You could say the same about making war.'

'In the current situation,' he said, referring to the invasion of Turkey, 'I agree wholeheartedly. But we must never eliminate our army. We would be a weak, ineffec tive people. Greeks must never again be held in subjugation.'

'You don't have to lecture to me, Alex, especially not at this hour of the morning.'

'Something's bothering you. What is it?'

She told him about the trouble she had encountered on the train.

He nodded and spoke in a firm, even voice. 'You did

the right thing. But I warned you that Farnsworth might be trouble. I should've placed someone on the train with you.'

She smiled up at him. 'I can handle myself quite well.'

'So it seems. Then there is no problem.'

'I'm not finished. I think there are two others working with Farnsworth.' She told him about the men who had chased them at the Acropolis.

A frown burrowed deep between his dark eyes. He shook his head. 'They sound like amateurs.'

'Thank God. I was vulnerable. I didn't get a good look at either of them, but Jones did.' She described the men as best she could.

'I'll see what I can find out, and I'll assign a guard to your truck.'

'That's not necessary.'

'Please, let me decide what is necessary for your pro tection.' He smiled, and took her hand. 'Now I want to tell you what I have in mind for Delphi.'

When she pushed the bicycle toward the street a few minutes later, peach and pale yellow edged the sky.

The quiet of dawn was over, and the ancient forum was waking as people trickled out of the huts. It's going to be a long day, she thought.

Indy ran through the Acropolis, arms pumping at his sides, legs blurring beneath him, his breath coming in quick, sharp bursts. He could hear the men behind him, their shoes pounding the pavement, their shouts slapping the air. His head snapped around. They were rapidly closing in on him, but he couldn't run any faster; his legs wouldn't cooperate. Panic clawed at his throat.

One of the men suddenly lurched ahead of the other and slammed a bottle of retsina over his head. He knew it should have hurt, that a white-hot pain should have flashed through his skull. But the only thing he felt was an intense reverbera tion that echoed in his head and sounded like a horn.

'Wake up, Indy.'

He opened his eyes and winced at the bright, cruel light. 'Oh, God,' he moaned. The blast of a horn outside their window hammered against the inside of his head. 'What the hell's going on out there?'

'That's our ride to Delphi. Hurry up and get ready. But drink this first.'

He sat up in bed, rubbed his face, and saw that Dorian was already dressed. She handed him a coffee as thick as syrup in a cup not much larger than a thimble.

'No ouzo in it, I hope.' At dinner they had finished the retsina and after the meal had sampled another Greek invention, a liqueur that reminded Indy of the Pernod he drank on occasion in Paris. His head now pounded with the after effects of the combination.

'Not a drop. I promise.'

He grimaced when the horn sounded again, but a few minutes later he was dressed and ready to leave. He reached under the bed for his bag, but couldn't feel it. He crouched lower, spotted the bag—and something else. He stretched his arm, patting the floor, and pulled out a boot. Its mate was behind it, and they looked like military issue.

'Indy, let's...' Dorian stopped in the doorway. 'What're you doing?'

'I was just getting my bag.' He dropped the boot, and looked at her.

'In case you're wondering, it belongs to my housekeep er's son. He died in Turkey. I'll be waiting outside.' She turned away.

Indy kicked the boot under the bed, and grabbed his bag. Funny place to keep a dead soldier's boots, he thought. When he stepped outside, two men with rifles were standing in the back of the truck. As he climbed into the front seat next to Dorian, he asked who they were.

'Guards.'

'Expecting trouble?'

'Just being prepared.'

Within minutes, they were bouncing over a gravel road as they headed into the hills outside of the city.

The springs on the truck were in poor condition, and each bounce jarred Indy's head.

The truck's engine roared whenever they accelerated, making conversation difficult. 'This road. . .' he heard Dorian say, and saw her lips moving, but he couldn't hear anything else.

'What?'

'This road ... of Oedipus.'

He frowned, shook his head. What possible connection could there be between the road and Oedipus?

Dorian leaned over and shouted. 'This road we are driving on hasn't changed much since the time of Oedipus.'

He believed it.

Dorian gave up on conversation and Indy stared out at the gray, stony hills and pines. It seemed that every day since they'd left Paris, the trip had assumed a new dimen sion. First, his relationship with Dorian had shifted dra matically. Then he'd discovered that she might be persona non grata in her own country.

The idea that he could be getting caught up in political machinations that he didn't comprehend disturbed him. She had said they should be open with each other, but she apparently was open only when it was opportune.

Now, he was starting to understand Conrad's suspicions about Dorian. Even Shannon, who hadn't even met her, was right about one thing. Traveling with Dorian was an adventure, and he had the feeling he hadn't seen the end of it. Hell, they hadn't even reached Delphi yet.

But he'd wanted a challenge, and maybe even some danger. That was what adventure was about, after all. But he also wanted to stay alive. No doubt about that.

Every so often he glanced back to see if they were being followed. But there were only clouds of dust, spewing

from under the wheels of the truck. Dorian finally leaned close to him. 'Would you stop worrying? We've got two guards with us. If there's any problem, they'll handle it.'