“With Great Power Comes With Great Responsibility:”
From: Stan Lee, DC Comics Owner and The Amazing Spiderman Author, plus many more great comics.
These words were spoken to Peter Parker from his Uncle Ben during the comic book series in The Amazing Spiderman.
So I take head to these words for they are true as gold, “One Man’s word is worth its weight in gold”, either that, “One man speak towards a nation for his influence will sway even the worst of wars”.
These are my thoughts I share with you, my public, my audience, and my companions.
Sincerely,
Shawn M. Haufe
Acknowledgement
My life is just as ordinary as can be I was born to my beloved parents Jean and Earl Haufe on July, 29 1982. Both of my parents were Air Force at the time and we were currently living in Michigan, in a small town called Gwinn. My brother was two years old my senior to me and my twin sister were the only siblings I had at the time. But trouble times came and mom and my dad divorced in 1987. The following year my mother meets Michael Pawlowski and they marry in the fall, bringing a new sibling to family Chris. Now Chris is much old even to my brother by three years.
People always told me writing was therapy and that you could pour your heart into something and spill out the poison that comes from your emotions. I never knew what that meant until now, times in my life my only release was writing. When I started writing this acknowledgement to this book, it’s just something I had the urge in doing because I felt so bottled up inside. My teachers always said I had a knack for writing but of course with my maturity I blew them off. Times passed and from my childhood I grew into a stubborn adolescent but my writing increased more and more. I use to write to express in what I called the faults of my childhood with poems and short stories. Sometimes to hide in my room when my stepfather would come yelling I would grab my pen and paper and write, other times I would huddle up in a ball and wait till he stopped. But this is not about that, this is something I have dreamt in doing for years.
Now I am full grow man well about to hit a quarter of a century next month, and my times seem filled with war because I have been in the military for almost six years now come in August. At the age of 18 I enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. I served for four years and had two deployments with them, but this story isn’t over yet. When I got out in 2005 I tried to be a civilian and well fell flat on my face. So here I sit in Afghanistan writing this book and I have this time to write for the hunger for writing is ever growing. I’ve filled my time with reading great novels, but my calling was pouring out of these books as I read them. So in closing I would like to thank my father and my step-mother who never gave up on me. I want mention a thank you to all my teachers that saw something in me. I would like to thank the Marine Corps for the shaping of this rebellious teenager. To the authors who I have grown to love over the years starting with, Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Tom Clancy, Anne Rice, Dan Brown and W.E.B Griffin. Ladies and gentleman for I have read off your names I thank for your inspiration, which has been the start of hopefully a fruitful writing career.
Prologue
It was hot spring day of April in the year of 1971. A student runs into his teacher late as usual, Doctor Robert Steven Clark did not notice, writing on his chalkboard. As it was the afternoon in his lecture hall on modern to ancient comparison studies of human culture. Clark runs the department of an archeology department at New Mexico State University. Numerous books, digs, and lecture follow his reputation as creditable paleontologist and archeologist. But he was never satisfied with his accomplishments he study even harder trying to prove what has happen to lost civilization or migration of those civilization moved by climate changes or disasters. Typical for the time Richard wears his corduroy jacket with the elbow patches sown into it. He stands at five foot eleven inches, and has the build of a wrestler in younger days with the broad shoulders and well develop chest. Though those days are long gone and his face worn from many weeks in the field digging, and his skin tanned from the sun. His hair graying and turning silver with maturity, he smiles with few wrinkles starting to show around his eyes.
Mr. Clark turns to the class all of the bored out of the mind, a lot of these kids thought this would be an easy class and get to play with bones. He turns to Jon Nicks half asleep and falling out of his chair, “What was turning point in the fall of the Mayans?” Jon stumbles and stutters as he clears his throat, “I’m sorry sir I do not know the answer.” “Alright come see me after class alright Jon.” “Yes sir”, as Jon sulks down in his chair. The class bell rings and Mr. Clark didn’t realize it was almost two hours and it was time to go home. As the bell rings students pile out like bulls crammed in a round up out the door. As the mod walks out Mr. Clark long time friend Bruce Anderson walks in. Brue has been friends with Richard for since they were kids. Ironically enough Bruce was the bully who pushed him around at first, realize in his own faults that he had no friends and bullying was getting him nowhere. So one day he apologizes and gave him of baseball card collection as a peace offering. He was everything when they grew up; he was the Varsity Quarterback, with the most beautiful girls in school, while Richard was leader of the chess club. Brue was boisterous and Richard was not. They were the complete opposites of each other. It was once said they look and act like brothers either that that had share the same brain to complete each other. Still boyish to his charm and wit Bruce slaps on the back with monstrous arms. For Bruce never quit in working out or did he quit on anything he ever wanted. Standing over Richard like a giant with his business like trimmed black hair and the most expensive suit one could show off to the girls. His age never seem to show with longs days on his summer vacation with his grandfather on the family ranch in Los Lunas, New Mexico. Although on an occasion he would invite Richard to stay for those times Bruce would breaking horses wild Richard was trying to find arrow heads and making head way with the local Indians on local legends.
Now the two were long time rivals for the same women, the thirst for life, and both had the same passion for all that was ancient. Brue was a successful rancher and land real-estate tycoon, and Richard in more humble background as a University professor. Competition drove them at everything they did whether it was reading the most recent best seller book. To out showing each other on the ballroom floor with each other’s dance partners. They lived for the thrill of the chase either one of them could shoot a rifle at amazing distance when it came to hunting. Deer, mostly but there were times ducks, turkeys, wild boors, and pheasant succumb to their bullets. Even Safari’s were an adventure for these two, Brue always flipped the bill but he different care he had his best friend and confidant by him. They had a healthy relationship like best friends do, told each everything no secrets were kept from each other, even if it was about a girl.
Today was surprise in Bruce’s mood as he walked into the auditorium to talk to his old friend. Brue had caught an illegal immigrant crossing his land for he owned a good lower portion of the New Mexican border near Las Cruses for which he owned mostly due to cattle ranching. The news was ear dropping and mouth watering to hear and Bruce would, or couldn’t wait to tell his companion. As he walked in he seemed out of place almost nervous even jittery. Richard looks up at him and asks what the matter he had never seen him like this since high school. When he asked Ashley Wilson, the prom queen, to the senior prom, Brue was never really the ladies man so he was scared to death. Hell almost past out at the site her, but as she jiggled at him he struggled with the words,” Would you go out with me?” Now just like then he was struggling with words to tell him of what he had heard from the Hispanic man. As Brue was talking, Robert was now the attentive friend listen and waited, and this is where our story begins.
Chapter 1
Rumors and Legends
Bruce Leads on about this Hispanic male who was from Mexico, he was afraid for his life and the only freedom from what he was running was in the states. He feared for what he knew would kill him and his family, So Bruce found starving, half to death and mumbling in coherently about some treasure he and his friends found. As the story goes on about deep in the forest way in the mountains and the ruins, hides a treasure so overwhelming that even Fort Knocks would not even compare to it. As legend goes Montezuma was running his peasants and elite guard to this secret chamber way up in the mountains. The chamber would be map out as if were a temple with secret rooms and traps galore. After the feet was constructed which as a task in itself, the journey would take three days of travel through dense jungle and hazardous terrain, then another day through a sacred river that the Aztecs adored to the healing waters of their Kingdom.
The Treasure would to buried amongst these walls which took several years in doing, for fear the end was near of this great civilization was predicted by a witch doctor from another providence. It was said that the doctor ran a week’s time day and night to tell the great king that demons come over from the horizon. The world would open and the demons would walk amongst us saying they here as friends and bring mass amount of knowledge and fortune. But in the wake of it they would bring disease, famine, and never ending destruction to the world around them. The king wise in his years, realize this and went to work to save his kingdom but to do that he need to establish a fortune to pay and rebuild the kingdom. He put his best masons and metallurgists to work to find a place that would suit as a secret kingdom if the need should occur. As was found out in a month’s time and with the king’s approval the construction commenced post haste, the slaves were brought in to dig, using the latest techniques of the time.
Furs, gold, gems; riches from all from the kingdom was brought here. Even the state archives was brought here for the clerks could count and attain the actual numbers that was to be set here of all the riches. To attain the access of this place this secret world away from the surface almost required the king’s permission for it would not a secret to let out for all fear of the truth of this place could bring shame to the king’s court. Little is known about the Aztec but between 12 an 13 century these people sprung themselves as one of the most powerful societies in the America’s. The Aztec was a proud people, a warring society that started from humble beginnings as tribes coexisting with each other. But as we all know there was hardly any written record of the Aztecs so Robert was especially curious where this story was going. To remember the Aztecs’ wrote some of their works on stone tablets so written paper artifacts would be more precious than gold to Robert. It was only said the only written records was done by Hernan Cortez’s people were the only ones to really document the events of the Aztecs on their conquest of the Yucatan peninsula in the mid 1500’s. The festivals, games, art work was recorded and brought back to Spain to be shown to the king, plus the king would look upon all the treasure bestowed upon him from the expeditions.
Robert’s imagination was running rampant of the thoughts of knowledge locked away in such a place as this lost kingdom, was as Bruce would put it as greater than Tenochtitlan. The story goes on more and more about the vastness of these caves that would yield full size temples and entrances that would open to the sun god for prayer by the king’s advisors and head medicine men.
Robert kept listening for this time he was the inquisitive student trying to learn every detail and thought that came out of Bruce’s mouth. Bruce did seem enthusiastic although there has been a time that he has pulled pranks to Robert, only for kicks of course. But this time Bruce was sincere and his face never jerked anything more than an excited smile for what he was telling his old friend. The both of them salivated at that the thoughts of vast riches that could easily bring millions to both of them, Robert thought of putting a new wing at the university, while Robert thought of a new sports car or an extension on his ranch house. Either way the both of them have dreamed of this adventure, as this would be the biggest archeology finds of their lives, and history would record their names for years to come, as the ones to find Montezuma’s lost city.
The immigrant had drawn out details on an old t-shirt and practically wore on his back for the whole time of his journey away from his captors. Bruce took him in like he told Robert before and lay him down and got his ranch hands to get some water, for the sun had dehydrated the man and he need to be medically attended to, but there wasn’t a doctor for miles around, so Bruce tend to this man and got his fever down and help him regain strength that was lost from his journey. The man names was Ricardo Alvarez as he told Bruce but Bruce didn’t care about this man’s name he was more concerned about the story Ricardo had told him out on the range the morning before. Once Ricardo knew he was safe and sound he pulled off his shirt to reveal the map and the other details that Bruce so long waited for? Its seems that this would be a complicated journey and the dangers would great, unlike in the 1500’s the area was in free of roaming but now there was government’s and drug cartel’s to deal with. That would mean miles and upon miles of red tape and bribes would be have to be set for the dig even to occur more or less safe passage have to be the top priority on this expedition. Luckily when you’re one of the 20th riches men in America there was no problem to big to handle in crises like this.
Ricardo explained there was no time to explain more and that time would be running out and extremist would be looking for this place. He said once they get to the lost city and archives they would stake claim that Aztecs would be the rightful owners of this land and the Spanish that live there should bow down to a new government for what was done to the people.
So with the clock ticking and ground to be covered, Bruce sped to Albuquerque to see his old friend. Now Robert heard all of this and the only words came out of his mouth was, “when do we leave?” Robert was equally happy to see his old partner enlightened by this discover and the thrill of a life time, the thrill of the chase of something big would be at their fingers tips! Robert couldn’t help he pulled out of his desk draw a pint of scotch and two shot glasses. This was unusual for Robert to drink but what the hell this is the start of a celebration that would end until he has the uncovered this jewel of the jungle that lay hidden for over 400 hundred years. With both glasses poured and both man stood eager to drink, Bruce spoke up and said,” Cheers to my rival, my partner, my equal for he may never lose his spark for exploration and for that we dance amongst the gods in this lost paradise.”
The following morning was a blur for Robert because the night before was a rampage of booze and ideological talks with Bruce on how they should go about the search of this lost civilization. With a hangover and headache to match and the morning sun bearing down through the lecture hall windows, nothing seem to spark enthusiasm to his class, he spoke even more monotone than before and even the brightest kids were falling asleep. It was no use Robert was hooked into a day dream and it had to be put into reality before he put his class to sleep even farther. “Ok class I’m going to let you out early, I have assigned your assignments and you should have a substitute tomorrow in my absence”, of course the students looked bewildered and confused because this man would never let anyone out early unless it was a family emergency. As the students filed out the class president Kyle Watson walked up and ask out of surprise,” where you heading Teach?”
Mr. Clark turned to his student with the utmost grinned and told him, “That I am going down to Mexico and I will return when the time is right, the university has left me go on assignment to a dig down there and I will write you and the class on my exploits.” Satisfied Kyle walked out with a little hint of jealousy in his walk. Robert could help but notice but it didn’t matter he was already on the phone dialing Bruce about departure times and that he would be pack in the matter of hours. With that done Robert left his classroom and went to his house just off from the university and packed in a flurry of clothes, maps, excavating tools, he practically packed half his house in a matter of ten suit cases. As he looked upon the case and the satisfaction of his mental packing list was done, his phone rang to an airline service that would be there in a couple of minutes to pick of his belongings.
Robert was happy to see the taxi pulled up, his anticipation was growing every minute to be on the plane to Mexico, and to see the old ruins again. As a student no older than Kyle he came to Aztecs ruins as an understudy for one of his first studies and publications for his doctrine. Oh he remembered those days to be young again, to visit Mexico was a dream vacation that he was wanting to do, but now he has the chance to revisit his roots. His career started was with visiting old ruins and understudy all the greats archeologists of the time. Plus reading old works from the greatest archeologists of their times; like Howard Carter, and his discovery of the Tomb of King Tut in the Valley of the Kings in 1912. As the taxi was pulling away from the house Robert took one look to his docile home and safe haven and waved to it as if it was an old friend. The taxi driver was picking up speed towards University and Central towards the highway, Robert was reciting in his head all of his flight times and making sure he had his ticket in pocket, he always seem to forget it but this time he had it! Just like anyone else on a trip there was always that nagging feeling that you forgot something, but it was too late to go back now. He had an evening flight to catch and the traffic now proved to murder for the rush hour and 5 o’clock evening traffic was clogging all the highways especially the one towards the airport.
Chapter 2
Paradise Found and Lost
Puerto Valletta was his destination; Bruce would have a sweet ready for him at the Ritz’s, in the morning would calm and join over brunch to discuss the days plans on their first expedition. So because it was the afternoon he would have the evening to fool around and be a tourist. Of course he had been here before and he knew the favorite spots and couple holes in the wall that Robert would hang around. This time this even he went to a cantina for a good meal and a couple of drinks and some shots of cheap malt whiskey. He wasn’t much of a drinker but flying always made him nervous and he needed to calm his nerves and his hungry stomach. As he walked the busy streets of Puerto he saw the town was alive with tourist and rolling carts trying to sell every legal or not. Kids ran through the street and Robert remembers to always check his pants pockets because pick pocketing ran rampant with the locals who preyed on the tourists. Robert was always cautious because last time he was in Puerto he lost not his wallet, his watch, hotel keys and passport. That day was just like this one as he walked the streets but one who was wiser and cunning may prevent to happen to it again.
The breeze was hot and humid for the clouds were bringing in rain clouds and the beach was still packed full of umbrellas with people lounging in the last day sun. The water coming on the beach was choppy and it would look like a great idea to take a dip, but Robert’s stomach was growling like a hungry bear just come out its cave after a years of hibernation.
Around the bend from the hotel were shops closing for it must have been 5 in the evening when Robert start looking for his cantina. As the lights of the city were coming on he could see his little place tucked down the alley from the main strip. Only two stories high and wooden slotted windows it looked almost like the tavern out of Casablanca. Quiet with a porch out from with old western swinging doors with a half burnt out neon sign calling the place CARLITA’S CANTINA. The place was called after the owner’s wife who since long past away and he was not far behind her. His daughter Rosarita was running the place while her dad got better. On the porch a man in sombrero and flop poncho sat there probably drunk and sleeping after he spent his day wages from the fields to feet his other appetite with tequila. The air was sweet about the place as he walked in to Caritas’, he felt at home as if he were home in a decent Mexican restaurant back home. Bisqochito’s were being baked in the back and he smells the maneudo cooking as well. Right way he sat down to a bar stool nearest to him ask for a menu even though he knew what he wanted. Rosa was at the other side of the bar counting up the stacks of bills and shaking her head with worry and grief. Robert notice but couldn’t help himself to drawn upon her angel like likeness and long black hair pulled to the back into a pony tail. About half his age and with better looks than him by a far margin, he knew she could melt a man with a look and get whatever she wanted. He remembered long nights in the past with both them drinking and laughing till the sun till the sun came up. Those memories filled him with joy and also courage to walk up to her. When both parents were alive she was very much a kid to him and her dad was so kind and would love to talk about History just as long as Robert did. They would go back and forth over thoughts about the Aztec culture and debate it over some cheap whiskey or tequila, but now Ed as he liked to be called(short for Eduardo) barely say a whisper and to move was excruciating to him. Years of smoking cigars tore up him lungs and arthritis destroyed his ability to walk great distances. Practically bed ridden Rosa hired a nurse to care of him while she ran the bar. Every so often she’d take a break from the bar and go relieve the nurse and sit and talk to her father. It was always business with dad, Ed had her, his only daughter and wished for a son but what he got was a girl. Now she lived a great deal of pressure to live up to dad’s name and keep the family business running.
Seeing her, was a great site, she was beautiful as ever and so radiant more than he ever remembered. His thoughts were as though of a hot sultry romance novel and she turn to see him and all he could do was blush with eyes piercing him. Eyes dark as charcoal but a shade of green so entrancing that no made or boy could resist and would putty in her hands. Robert choked a poor hello and she just giggled, she looked at him as though he never left her site but it had been years since they had seen each other. Both older and wiser, age had done her better with looks than it did Robert, her hair was fuller and muscles more taunt for the rigorous work she was doing lifting crates, boxes, and beer kegs. Robert looked like an old man but she turned out to of something like a roman statue, almost perfect in every detail. But she as well as he looked on lustful eyes of an old lover.
Romance never left them but their lives separated them, with her with the bar and her ailing father and Robert always traveling the world for his work and school. Now they were together again by luck they would together again. Robert was so glad to be back again he could just kiss her, but unfortunently she was working and he didn’t want to disrupt her work. So he sat at his usual spot at the corner of the bar and watched the daylight fade away and the lights of the bar came on and he could see the smoke wafting in the light more vibrant than before. Coughing a little because he was not use to smoke, he ordered from a tattered menu and heard his stomach growling again. He didn’t know what to get or want, he settled for an appetizer and a Tec ate’. The beer was cold and the chips were warm and the pin co do gio was chilled to perfection. A thought came to him to have an enchilada and some maneudo. He would another beer and could listen to Mariachis’ in the distance still entertaining the tourists. The song sounded happy and yet remorseful for a lost love and the irony just made him laugh. As the not dragged on the locals were walking in and out, a few tourists came in and saw nothing really going on. Rosa was cleaning the bar and stocking the beer and making inventory just shaking her head. As Robert was looking over his beer he couldn’t but notice. She seemed deep in thought, and Robert was waiting for good moment to interrupt but at the moment patience was the key so not ruin her concentration.
She looked at him as for looking for an excuse and she came over and pulled out a beer and popped the top and took a sip. “Well, Well the ghost has returned to his roots,” she says as Robert choked on his beer. She sounded happy and yet pissed at him. “You know it’s been a long time since you came to this bar, what brings you here besides the food?” Speechless with him mind a total blank, he hated to be put on the spot, word never came the way they should, he looked at her and could only stutter a hello, or something of the sort to her. She just giggled cleaning up some of the beer from Robert as he knocked over her beer with excitement and misjudgment of his hand. Shaking her head she mover the spilt beer in a dirty glass and grabbed another beer and this time making sure she left it far enough away from him. “Now where we’re we, oh yes you came here to eat well how the food, Robert is? “Well no I was coming to remember some old Memories Rosa.” “SO NOW I’M A MEMORY HUH?” Rosa was getting irritated by the response and Robert only had seconds to respond before he got slapped. She had hands of steel from the lifestyle she live and he didn’t want to feel the wrath of Rosa.
“I’m sorry you know, and frankly if I wasn’t running all over the world I would married you and stay here with you, my work is important to me and to the public if I don’t do it someone else will!” Rosa looked at him and just about cried; she was expecting another arrogant response like always but she called down and stood there and listens for a few more minutes. “You know Rosa there wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you, in every hole, I dug there wasn’t a piece of clay or bone I didn’t think of you. I came here to either ask you to be a part of my life, and join me on my neck expedition so you know what I go through or walk out that door and never look back. I’ll be out of your life for good.” Rosa looks bewildered in all of years she never expected that coming. “Well I never expected to see you again, you just walked out on me and my family, and my father treated you like a son. You expect me to just drop everything just so you can go on some stupid scan verger hunt? What am I a dog?” ”No You’re not a dog and I will take care of the details on caring for your father and the cantina, I know you don’t like the sound of it but I need you this time for your support and for your knowledge of the lands, you know them better than me, hell you grew up practically in the ruins of the Aztecs.” Robert was waiting for this debate to end, but when you piss off a Hispanic woman you’re in for a long haul! “So that’s it you need a tour guide, I should of know!” Rosa was at her peak and Robert only seen this once before he left when her father was getting worse and he was getting to leave back to the states. “Is what you think I am doing using you? Did I use you when I made love to you? No, I did not and you have no reason to be made at me anymore I am trying to make amends with you! In the morning I will come with assistants to help with your father and workers to work on the bar, everything will be taken care of and this is a promise I intend to keep I just need you packed for a long trip, bring your climbing gear too we’re going to need it! Now please cool off and I will see you in the morning ok?” As Robert walked out he heard her scream! “You know if I didn’t love you Robert Clark I wouldn’t agree to this now I will see you in the morning so you better be here or I will find you myself and kick your ass personally, now good night!” The swing doors slam and a crash of broken glass was the last thing Robert hear as walked away. God he loved her not only for her wit but for the fire she stored inside, it could romantic one minute and then a sudden change into a hurricane of sorts. He was lucky we walked out scaved from the fight; he would hate to tell his friend Bruce that he got wiped by a girl more than a woman scorned. Now since that was out that was out of the way Robert could relax and go back to the hotel and read a book or some notes on what was going to happen tomorrow. Bruce should be in and he’s not going to be happy with the news of an additional member to the team. But Robert’s only excuse she would be the guide a translator, which would be a viable asset to the team. Neither Bruce nor Robert spoke really good Spanish and it would be a problem working with the locals on digs/excavations of the site in the future. His alterier motive would to patch things up with Rosa and catch up on lost time and maybe a little romance on the side. One was for sure there cannot be any mistakes on this expedition people’s lives would be at stake in those mountains when we get to that hurtle when they got to it.
As he walked into the hotel it fell silent like a graveyard, people stared and avoided Robert as if he were a disease, Robert felt something wrong immediately and went straight to the service desk and asked what was going on? Apparently there was murder in the hotel while he was away at the cantina. He asked the desk clerk for more details and the only thing he could point out there was a letter left behind by the assailants that said no one ventures past to the mountains or more people will die for this would be an example to all who seek the king’s fortune and wisdom. This sounded alarming to Robert but a scare would never stop from exploring the jungle in the morning, accidents happen but this was murder and Bruce needed to be notified in the morning to make sure they had a good security team, maybe a local militia would? As he walked up to the elevator he put this all behind him some sleep was hanging his over head and he needed not worry it about. When he got up to his room the scene was more gruesome than he thought, the local police were cleaning up the blood that was everywhere, it was smeared on the walls leading up to a single room near his own. Robert was more disturbed by the horrific site and then suddenly released the thought that this was pointed towards him and the immigrant was not joking about someone was after him. The message was clear the treasure was not to be found, but Robert couldn’t just stop here the world needed to know about the truth of the Aztec’s and not just the Spanish side.
The whole was one side and the discovery of the Aztec’s written articles would break the world with knowledge never seen in decades! He kept thinking this would be bigger than any discovery of Egypt even the one of Howard Carter and Tuknekom. As he put the key into his door one of the officer’s was looking very bluntly at him as he has something to something with the murder in the room next to him. Robert walked into his room and just about to close the door but a hand prevented him from closing it and as he looked it was a police officer.
The officer introduced himself as Manuel Flores of the local district here in Puerto Valletta, he seemed deeply disturbed by the murder scene and he needed question from Mr. Clark. Due to the fact he was located next to the murder. Flores was one of the head detective’s and not just an officer at all but the chief magistrate of the whole entire area. Flores looked as the years on the beat caught up with and looked forty-five but he was only thirty-five, his hair was turning silver and mustache was changing color as well. About a man of a good stature and weight he stood about six foot one inches and weighed about two-hundred and twenty pounds he was plump but he wasn’t fat. His suit looked soiled with sweat and the creases in his coat and pants were gone.
Flores was a traditional with old values tied to Spain with family spread throughout Mexico and Spain, he abbreviated his name so other people would not struggle pronouncing it. But to Robert he just looked like a real hard ass who got what he wanted and he knew that he wanted from Robert was something, a scrap of information or something that would be needed in this case innocent or guilty Robert was located next door the crime scene, and convientantly showing as the cops were investigating. Robert asked the detective if he would like to sit down, maybe have a glass of whiskey on the rocks to calm his nerves. Robert wanted this guy comfortable as possible so he could lead suspicion away from him. Even for a traditional cop he got to find out this man was bit alcoholic by his nature, as they both sat they talked about what happened, to Clarks realization this man is actually looking for condolences for what he saw. As if he were a Chaplin or a priest this man saw something horrible and needed someone other than an authority figure to talk it out. Flores checked everyone in the hotel with his peers or resources he had, he wanted to have dirt on everyone. But to Flores surprise he didn’t find anything on a Mr. Robert Clark, just that he was college professor here on business. Flores did inquire about the business that Robert was doing. But Robert gave a vague lie saying that he was visiting a few sites in the area for a book he was doing.
The conversation continued and Flores was talking about how the victim was gutted from his waistline to the trecia. There was blood was everywhere and the contents of the victim intestines were left in a sacrificial wooden bowl, the writing on the bowl couldn’t be translated and needed to send in for further research. The skin was sheared clean off as though it was like a sheep or goat. They found old darts and they had sent to the forensics to be analyzed, this killing was ritualistic and couldn’t be done by just an ordinary doctor the cuts were so clean the murder weapon, probably a knife must have been razor sharp! Robert heard all this and was thinking of the rituals of sacrifices of the ancients and would relate to a class he did last year on the occult and how it affected the ancients everyday lives. It was an interesting class; he almost made a student throw up over a few slides that he showed during his presentation plus slide show.
He told Flores where he was again just so the Detective was still looking for answer’s that neither of them could not answer; even as college professor he no betters a detective than the man before him.
