her.
“ What brings you to this part of the jungle?” he asked. “I imagine by now that any archeologist with an ounce of brains knows the reputation of the area, and yet, here you are.”
What struck Alex was the change in Solis’ dialect. Yes, the deep Latin timbre remained, but the terminology had evolved into something akin to American slang. As a matter of fact, the suave veneer that should have fit in so well with this lavish office started to shed like a snake’s skin. The perceived charming smile with its brilliant white teeth altered into a sneer, and those teeth reminded her of the handle of the letter opener. Gleaming hair, slicked back into perfect control now disclosed defects. A few grey strands escaped the gelled finish and the luminosity behind his silhouette made their erratic spokes more evident. Perspiration leaked to the front of his shirt, scoring his abdomen. Inside the confines of his shirt-sleeve his bicep began to spasm as he jabbed the letter opener in the air.
“ The Petén holds many secrets, Mr. Solis. That is why I am here. That you and this compound are one of those secrets is an inconvenience, and I am praying, not a danger to my men. What concerns me more than the seeming containment of my group is your lack of concern about the forest fire. If you are not worried about the impact on wildlife, or the destruction of vegetation, surely you are concerned by the attraction a major fire can cause. CONAP, the National Council of Protected Areas, or any peace corps movement will descend on you.”
Solis turned away from her to face the window, and for a second she considered fleeing through the door, but his indifference made her suspect she would not get far. From this second floor level, the morning sky was a vivid shade of blue, and to her relief, a blackbird flew beyond the perimeter of the compound as if it sensed there was a no-fly zone above this building.
“ They will not come here.” Solis spoke to the glass.
The finality of his statement made her believe him.
“ What is this place?” she asked. “A military operation?” She crossed her arms. “And what is your stand? All these outfits have a stand. What are you fighting for?”
Solis snorted and turned back towards her, one black eyebrow dipped in annoyance. “This is not a military operation.”
“ Great.” She took a step back. “Then, again, I thank you for your hospitality, but now we need to get back to town.”
Without hesitation, Alex reached the door and turned the brass handle. It was locked. “Will you please unlock this?”
She dared not turn around and offer him any sign of panic.
“ Let us cut the bull , Señorita Langley.”
The deep tone chilled her, but she still refused to turn around.
“ Your men are free to go.”
Alex whirled.
“ Good.”
“ You are not.”
It grew hard to swallow. She tried to gauge Solis’s expression, but the sun had risen to a point that he was completely eclipsed−a black panther on the prowl.
“ And why is that?” She tried to control her voice.
“ There is a reason archeologists have disappeared here, Dr. Langley and you are about to discover why.”
The chill returned with a vengeance.
She had never identified herself as a doctor.
C hapter Seven
“ Who are you?” Alex hissed.
Solis crossed his arms. A cumulous cloud crept before the sun enabling her to see his face. He smiled, but the lips were drawn tight and wrinkles formed black slits at the corners of his eyes. He was by no means the vision of sophistication and handsome looks that was initially perceived. He was a man dressed in subtle, but expensive clothes, standing in an office decorated with exotic paintings, oriental vases, and lush furniture−all deceptive cloaks to hide the malice beneath.
He rounded the desk, and Alex remained alert to the letter opener in his hand.
“ There will be plenty of time to talk about it.”
To her horror, he reached forward with the
“ What brings you to this part of the jungle?” he asked. “I imagine by now that any archeologist with an ounce of brains knows the reputation of the area, and yet, here you are.”
What struck Alex was the change in Solis’ dialect. Yes, the deep Latin timbre remained, but the terminology had evolved into something akin to American slang. As a matter of fact, the suave veneer that should have fit in so well with this lavish office started to shed like a snake’s skin. The perceived charming smile with its brilliant white teeth altered into a sneer, and those teeth reminded her of the handle of the letter opener. Gleaming hair, slicked back into perfect control now disclosed defects. A few grey strands escaped the gelled finish and the luminosity behind his silhouette made their erratic spokes more evident. Perspiration leaked to the front of his shirt, scoring his abdomen. Inside the confines of his shirt-sleeve his bicep began to spasm as he jabbed the letter opener in the air.
“ The Petén holds many secrets, Mr. Solis. That is why I am here. That you and this compound are one of those secrets is an inconvenience, and I am praying, not a danger to my men. What concerns me more than the seeming containment of my group is your lack of concern about the forest fire. If you are not worried about the impact on wildlife, or the destruction of vegetation, surely you are concerned by the attraction a major fire can cause. CONAP, the National Council of Protected Areas, or any peace corps movement will descend on you.”
Solis turned away from her to face the window, and for a second she considered fleeing through the door, but his indifference made her suspect she would not get far. From this second floor level, the morning sky was a vivid shade of blue, and to her relief, a blackbird flew beyond the perimeter of the compound as if it sensed there was a no-fly zone above this building.
“ They will not come here.” Solis spoke to the glass.
The finality of his statement made her believe him.
“ What is this place?” she asked. “A military operation?” She crossed her arms. “And what is your stand? All these outfits have a stand. What are you fighting for?”
Solis snorted and turned back towards her, one black eyebrow dipped in annoyance. “This is not a military operation.”
“ Great.” She took a step back. “Then, again, I thank you for your hospitality, but now we need to get back to town.”
Without hesitation, Alex reached the door and turned the brass handle. It was locked. “Will you please unlock this?”
She dared not turn around and offer him any sign of panic.
“ Let us cut the bull , Señorita Langley.”
The deep tone chilled her, but she still refused to turn around.
“ Your men are free to go.”
Alex whirled.
“ Good.”
“ You are not.”
It grew hard to swallow. She tried to gauge Solis’s expression, but the sun had risen to a point that he was completely eclipsed−a black panther on the prowl.
“ And why is that?” She tried to control her voice.
“ There is a reason archeologists have disappeared here, Dr. Langley and you are about to discover why.”
The chill returned with a vengeance.
She had never identified herself as a doctor.
C hapter Seven
“ Who are you?” Alex hissed.
Solis crossed his arms. A cumulous cloud crept before the sun enabling her to see his face. He smiled, but the lips were drawn tight and wrinkles formed black slits at the corners of his eyes. He was by no means the vision of sophistication and handsome looks that was initially perceived. He was a man dressed in subtle, but expensive clothes, standing in an office decorated with exotic paintings, oriental vases, and lush furniture−all deceptive cloaks to hide the malice beneath.
He rounded the desk, and Alex remained alert to the letter opener in his hand.
“ There will be plenty of time to talk about it.”
To her horror, he reached forward with the
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