The Secret of Wadi Rum

By A. J. Fuentes

he disappearance of an archaeologist in the city of Amman (Jordan), and the appearance of a strange tablet made of ceramic will unleash a frantic struggle to uncover one of the oldest secrets of humanity. A thrilling race in which the secret services of the Jordanian government will be involved, as well as a powerful European organization and a peculiar policeman, who, along with the disappeared archaeologist's children, will try to solve the mysteries hidden under the smooth red sands of the Wadi Rum desert.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. J. Fuentes
• Release date: Mar 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386176367

Book preview

The secret

of

Wadi Rum

A.J.FUENTES

Title: The secret of Wadi Rum

Author: Antonio Jesús Fuentes García

Translator: Gérard Terrien

Text correctors: John Belsey, Juana Solano

Cover design: Cristina Gutiérrez Sagredo (grupo Criser)

Copyright © 2013-2017 by Antonio Jesús Fuentes

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical mean, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotation in a book review.

For Cristina and Álvaro... they know why.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Epilogue

Prologue

Abdeb was bringing help that day. With him was Nami, his wife's cousin. She had insisted that he take Nami with him, because she said that the boy also needed the money they were going to earn with that job. Abdeb, who had not wanted at first, had to give in to his wife's insistence, but the idea of mixing Nami in this work was not at all funny.

The boy was a good person, and he knew that the money he would earn from that work was badly needed, but this time it was not a routine assignment, the kind they had done thousands of times, this time it was much more dangerous. Abdeb hadn't wanted to get anyone else involved, much less family.

They climbed up the northern slope of the mountain —, which Abdeb knew like the palm of his hand—, so that no one could see them.

Mount Nebo was always full of people from all countries. Around the steep hills archeology professors were usually seen teaching groups of students full of fascination. Foreigners of all nationalities followed guides who suffered all day under the scorching sun, while the tourists, without giving them the slightest attention, turned their necks to and fro, perhaps expecting to see Moses, where it is said that he first saw the Promised Land.

However, Mount Nebo is not only a tourist attraction, scattered throughout it there is a hive of excavations and camps  all bent on discovering a little more history than what was known to the present.

Abdeb had foreseen even the smallest detail, so they ascended the north face, for the man knew it was of little historical interest and would be practically deserted.

Abdeb and Nami came to a ledge where they stopped to rest. They had been walking for more than an hour, loaded with their saddlebags and hiding whenever they saw someone. Nami sweated without stopping and asked once more when they were about to arrive. Abdeb was absorbed in his own thoughts and did not hear him. They continued to climb to a series of caves smaller than those on the south side, but in which they knew that they would find more interesting antiquities than in the others, as the other side had been mostly looted.

Everyone looked on the south side, because the caves were bigger, but Abdeb had been playing there ever since he was small, and he knew that the most beautiful and valuable things had always been found on the north side.

When they came to a series of caves, which looked rather like animal dens, Abdeb motioned Nami to put the saddlebags down first, and then go inside —, which he obeyed reluctantly—, it did not seem at all like a good idea to get into that mousetrap. But, the boy thought, 'at least the financial reward they had promised would be worth it.'

The athletic kid still had a hard time getting into the first section of the grotto, but once it had passed, it widened to a standing position. Just after Abdeb entered without any difficulty, because it was not the first time he'd done so, and when he stood next to Nami, he returned to take a look at that wonder of nature that he had discovered that one day by mistake.

The cave, which allowed only the passage to its interior crawling, widened to a height of about two meters high at the beginning, and two and a half meters more at the bottom. The walls were of limestone, but inlaid with some mineral (possibly quartz), which made the cave shine from an endless number of points, a slight shift on your position and the picture shimmered and changed revealing new wonders..

Nami was astonished by the beauty of the cave, and his mouth was open so wide that he looked like a snake about to swallow a mouse. When Abdeb drew him out of his astonishment and motioned for him to grab the saddlebags and follow him to the bottom of the cave, he did so, but without ceasing to look at walls and ceilings, as a child watches a candy shop. Abdeb once again told Nami not to touch anything, which the American had made very clear, if they broke something all their effort would not have been worth anything.

When they reached the bottom, Nami saw what his cousin's husband was observing and almost gasped as he realized what that meant.

In the background, in the last wall, half hidden by the darkness and the dust, you could just see a fresco of drawings and sequences of icons that seemed to tell a story. It was in the furthest corner of the cave where the tiny shards of quartz did not glow, almost as if it were placed here not to be found. At the beginning of the mural were some figures who carried a box, then there was a battle and now the box was carried by others, who looked like kings because they all had something like crowns on their heads. Another series of pictures followed, they lay down there where the darkness was impenetrable.

Abdeb drew a small but very sophisticated camera from his saddlebags, which allowed Nami to see what Abdeb was photographing on a small screen. Each time the camera was fired; the flash illuminated the entire cave and allowed the entire mural to be seen for a fraction of a second.

Once Abdeb finished making the pictures, he left the camera in his saddlebags with care as if it were a treasure, and took out some latex gloves, which he put on with some difficulty. Then he took an archaeological brush, and with great care, almost so slowly that Nami thought he was going to sit still, he began to scratch some of the fresco on the wall. The boy was impressed, but also a little nervous; There was a treasure trove there and he did not understand why they had to settle for what the foreigner had promised them, even if it was such a succulent amount, since he thought that only half of what was in the cave would earn twice as much as the American paid them.

Meanwhile Abdeb was still engaged in his task; the foreign professor had taught him how to do it and did not want to disappoint him. Every time he thought of the professor he felt a tingling in his body that had been unknown to him until now, since he had not felt it before from anyone. Those feelings were respect and gratitude. Abdeb had never admired anyone, because no one had given him any reason to do so, and he had never been grateful to anyone because no one had ever given him anything, but the professor was a very wise man and had taught him many things without asking anything in return, and to that Abdeb was not accustomed.

He remembered how he had come to know this place, as it had been by pure chance. Abdeb was giving one of his frequent walks, since he had no job it was the only way he could relax, when he stuck his foot into a hole in the ground that he had not seen. With a terrible pain in his ankle, he sat on a nearby stone, to see what had been done and it was then when he saw it. It was not immediately, because he thought he had broken his foot and was feeling it, when looking up, not far away, he saw a small flash that at first took no notice. He thought it would be a waste of time only for  tourists, but after a while when his foot did not hurt so much, he went for a look, and saw a groove in the stone of the mountain, barely a crack. He was surprised because he had been up this mount all his life long and had never seen it before. After a while spent removing stones and soil he discovered what looked like an entrance, only just wide enough to let him pass, and as he was tired and his foot still hurt, he went home.

The next day, still intrigued, he returned to the place of his discovery, and this time ventured to enter, but after trying for a while he could not, since the entrance was still very narrow, so he decided to leave, but as a result of his curiosity —and also for lack of anything else to do—, finally went back to make the entrance wider, until it was large enough to let him pass. Then he crawled into to what looked like a corridor almost too narrow to walk down, and he saw something on the ground that made him stop to carefully pick it up. It was a very light brown piece of something barely a span across, he carefully wiped it with a rag and put it in his saddlebags, which he always carried when he took his walks in case, as it was today, he found something that could be of value..

He decided to return home to examine it better and thus determine the value of his find. When he got home, he left it on a table and began to clean it with a brush that he bought a few years ago for this type of cases, and it was when he really discovered that the object could be invaluable. What he, at first, thought was wood turned out to be ceramic, but so polished that it looked like glass. He was also impressed by the fact that it was the first time he saw prints with such perfection, since those which were usually found in that region were very abundant but a bit rough, as if what mattered was the message they wanted to convey and not In what form or in what material they were written. The type of message also disturbed him, since he had never seen the language or signs contained in that tablet, which were certainly not from the region.

Excited by his discovery, he rushed to show it to Sina, his wife, who immediately convinced him to go to the market to sell it and get some money that they sorely needed at the moment. Although somewhat reluctant, he agreed, as he knew that it would be of no use to discuss the issue further with his wife, after so many years he already knew what she would say so he simply did what he was told most of the time as he'd already lost the argument.

It was there that he met the professor, who, upon seeing the pottery, invited him to eat and bought it. During the meal Professor Smith-as he introduced himself as asked him all about the place where Abdeb had found the tablet, and he listened the whole story with great interest, letting him speak without interrupting, just to ask him a few questions at the end. At first Abdeb was reluctant to tell the stranger details of his discovery, but something in that man, perhaps his way of listening or his pleasant personality, eventually convinced Abdeb who finally told him everything, from his first walk up the mountainside, until the moment they first met.

Once he had told his story, the professor proposed that he return to the grotto and take pictures of everything there, and then tell him everything he could not photograph. Abdeb accepted immediately because the foreigner offered him a lot of money. In addition to what he needed, the man saw nothing in the way of earning that money that was unseemly or simply illegal. Once the deal concluded and they had determined how they should act, they both relaxed and devoted themselves to eating and talking.

From that moment on, Abdeb enjoyed their meetings, since the professor was an exceptional interlocutor who told all the stories with an incomparable passion. In addition to learning interesting things about his country that Abdeb did not know, he enjoyed listening to him like he had never enjoyed listening to anyone before.

Once they finished eating, they agreed to see each other two days later, so that Smith would give him the necessary material for the work he had ordered, and the first payment for it, but not without repeating that he should not tell anyone, since in Jordan the robbery and contraband of antiques earned you a long stay in prison.

They met two days later, the professor gave him the material and money agreed upon, and said they would see each other a week later. Their deal concluded he quickly marched off down an alley adjacent to the meeting place. Abdeb was a bit embarrassed because he hoped to talk to him a little bit longer, but also because he had noticed something strange in the professor, as if he was nervous. He did not stop looking on all sides as if someone was watching him and he was sweating profusely —even more than could be expected in the desert—, as if the four equestrians of the apocalypse were chasing him.

A tremendous blow brought Abdeb back from his memories, in time to see Nami pick up some of his saddlebags and throw them to the ground later. The young man was heading toward the wall where Abdeb was taking photos of the fresco. Nami had a knife in his hand and was coming straight at him; he jumped on his feet bleeding from his head because of the blow the boy had given him a moment earlier. The Arab gave him a blow to the chest, which made him almost lose his balance:

But what are you going to do? Abdeb stammered.

Secure our future, said Nami, who already was almost on the wall with the knife held high.

You're crazy; the professor said that if we touched anything, he would not pay us! Abdeb replied, He had now recovered from the shock and realized that the knife was not for him, but to tear a piece off the wall, Don´t touch it!

I don´t care what this stranger said, he wants everything for himself and we need it more! screamed Nami, who was already less than a meter from the wall.

Have you gone crazy?  If we get caught with these things, we'll go to jail!

But you do not realize that if we sell these antiques we can become rich, he said in an almost pitiful tone, though his eyes showed a glow that had nothing to do with supplication.

Abded jumped at him with the intention of taking the knife from him, and trying to take him to reason, but as soon as he saw his eyes, he knew it was not going to be that easy. Abdeb imagined that the years of poverty and misfortune, which he had hitherto suffered, were parading through Nami's head, and that thanks to what was in the cave those years would be history.

Abdeb reached him just as Nami was going to plant the knife against the mural wall, grabbed him by the arm before he did and struggled hard, but Abdeb, though thinner, was stronger than Nami. After a brief struggle he knocked the knife from the boys grasp, and threw him to the ground, Nami rolled away in to the dark and scrambled to his feet. Abdeb faced Nami, looking into his face, but then he saw something that froze the blood in his veins as if he had been injected with liquid nitrogen. Nami's eyes were a cluster of greed, despair and worst, what gave most scare to Abdeb, madness. A madness that made his eyes seem to jump out of their orbits and run out of there.

Nami took advantage of the brief hesitation of Abdeb for, with a strong push sending him to the ground almost a meter away.

Do not stand in my way if you're not going to help me, I want to share this with you, but if you try to stop me from getting rich I will not hesitate to kill you! Nami said, with a fury in his voice that left Abdeb out of breath.

Nami took the knife again after groping for it on the sandy floor of the cave, and applied it to the fresco of the wall with force.

The mural was incredibly firm on the wall, and no matter how Nami pulled it with the tip; he could not move it a millimeter. Then he placed a hand on the part of the mural that depicted the porters carried a box, but he had barely touched the fresco with his hand, that he fell to the ground like a bundle of rags, seized by horrible convulsions that looked like they would dislodge all the bones of his body.

Abdeb panicked and ran to him screaming, he grabbed him and turned him around, but in Nami's eyes there was no longer hatred, nor fury, nor greed; they were just as white as a sheet of paper, and from the mouth there was a kind of foam of the same milky color. Abdeb knocked him down and tried to revive him by beating him and shouting like a possessed man, but it was useless since Nami had died.

Chapter 1

Cameron got out of the BMW that he had parked just outside the office door, not because it was closer to the entrance, but because he liked that at the end of the day, his companions could admire his new car. Cameron was not vain, but he liked to see the faces of his companions on seeing it. No-one had taken it the wrong way, because he was well liked by everyone, and in the office they all knew that neither was he pretentious nor believed himself superior to anyone, They all knew that he it was because it was the first acquisition that Cameron had bought by himself, without the help of his father.

He entered the enormous lobby of the company. Within three of its four walls were, shining from floor to ceiling, huge and immaculate windows that allowed everyone passing in the street to contemplate the magnificence of the hall and the bustle that was therein all hours.

He approached the reception, humming and with his usual smile on his face, still amazed (as he was almost every day) by the good work that the designer had done with the lobby, and how well he had grasped the exact idea of how Cameron wanted it.

Good morning Raquel, greeting to the receptionist without erasing her smile.Do we have something today?

Good morning Mr. Smith, today we have the meeting with the partners about the new discovery made in Peru and our possible new destiny, she said with the same expression that he looked,  I hope that does not erase his smile.

Two things Raquel, he answered, pretending to be a false tone of anger. The first one I've told you since you worked here two years ago, do not call me Mister. And the second, you know that I eat those for breakfast.

Well, may the saints preserve us, she said with her hands raised in sign of surrender, I just said it just in case!

Okay, and oh... do not ever say it again! Cameron said with exaggerated affection and an even bigger smile.

That said, he headed down the hallway that led directly to a waiting room, where the elevators were located. He had to put his key in a panel that was between the buttons of the floors, so that the elevator would comply with the order, since only he was allowed to reach the top floor letting him directly into his office.

He settled behind his large desk and allowed himself to enjoy, as every day, a few seconds of relaxation in his office. He raised his feet to the table and looked at his sanctuary. He loved that space. It was not only his place of work, from which he performed the two tasks that he liked most in the world, it was the only place where he could afford to dedicate himself to business life and archaeology, not excluding one from the other.

At the beginning, when his father proposed the idea, he was not too enthusiastic, since he did not know if, due to his young age and the total lack of experience he could handle such responsibility. However, due to constant reassurance on the part of his father and the confidence that he had shown in him, he ended up accepting, and he had to admit that thank god he had done it, because now it seemed to him the best decision of his life.

His father needed a way to sell all the acquisitions he found, whether they were made by him in the excavations or bought from a client in some exotic market., His father was an excellent archaeologist, but he hated numbers and any kind of mathematical operation like nothing else in the world. That led him to think of the person who most inspired him in the world and who also met the two characteristics, his son Cameron.

By the time he was twelve, his father had told him that he did not know anyone with two different hobbies, such as archeology, and mathematics, that was what made him so good at his job.

At that moment a sharp whistle sounded that almost made him fall off the table. For a moment he did not even remember where he was, he had been so deeply sunk in his memories that he had forgotten everything else, but it only lasted for an instant, just to see the huge flashing red dot on his phone. He tapped it, and immediately the voice of his personal secretary sounded:

Mr. Smith, Mr. Perelló, Mr. Ramos, Mr. Miralles, and Mr. Rubio are waiting for you in the meeting room, Mr. Garcia has called and says he has had complications, that he will come later and that you should start without him, Sandra announced, with that tone of voice that reminded Cameron so much of the one reporting the flights at the airport.

All right, Miss Sandra, tell the partners I'll be down in a moment, he answered, deliberately using the same voice as her.

Well, ah, and remember that they do not like to be kept waiting, she said with a smile, though Cameron could not see her. And thanks for the imitation of my voice, if you like, I'll find you a job on a friend's TV show.

Oh, thanks, if this does not work out well, we'll go and see that friend of yours together, he said, also smiling.

He went to his chair, sat down and put back his feet on the table to continue the moment of daily relaxation interrupted by his secretary. He knew that the partners did not like to wait and even if it seemed a childish attitude, this is why he left them boiling more than normal, not to prove that it was him that made them wait, but because he liked to come in when the atmosphere was a bit tense, as he had proven himself to be doing better in situations where the people he was going to discuss with were a bit hostile.

He pressed Sandra's extension again, which answered immediately.

Yes sir? she answered helpfully.

Sandra, just bring me some coffee with two sugar sachets.

Excuse me? She replied, a little hesitantly.

Get me a coffee, those that only you know to prepare.

But ... but the partners are−

Sandra, you know that without my daily caffeine dose, I'm nobody. Besides I already told you that I only hired you because you make such a good cup of coffee, you will not want me to miss that pleasure.

Ah, just for that! Then the years of university are no longer worth anything. What a waste! she said with an exaggerated dramatic tone.

You know it was also influenced by those nice legs that you have.

Sir, you're earning a trip to the marvelous world of the court for sexual harassment, she exclaimed in an offended tone that did not come out very believable.

For God’s sake! Come and bring me coffee, I'm beginning to need it drastically, he said, and cut off the communication.

He was in a good mood, as he almost always was when coming to work, but that day he had got up more optimistic, almost euphoric (though he had not had his coffee yet) and nobody could bother him, not even that group of suckers who were waiting for him in the meeting room. He would know how to handle them.

After a few minutes Sandra entered with a still-steaming coffee, and left it carefully on the table in front of him.

My Lord, here is your coffee. If I do not need more of my services as a waitress, I will go on with my other job, in the secretary's office, she said, and without waiting for an answer, she turned back and went to the door.

Sorry Sandra, I was kidding, you know that?

Sandra turned, already with the doorknob caught, looked at him in a slightly mischievous way, and was close to laughing when seeing the look of guilt that her bosses’ ´face was showing.

Oh, yes, about my legs too? She said in a sensual tone.

What... well... oh, that did not Cameron replied, who, for a moment went mute, but recovering he had that bright smile on his face again. That I meant sincerely.

Ah, good! I felt a little offended, she answered, still looking at him, ah and another thing, if I may.

Now what, don't tell me you've thrown something into the coffee!

No, only that I advise you to drink it quickly and go to the meeting room, she said, leaving the office.

Cameron picked up his coffee, sucked in its delicious scent and gave him a brief but intense sip.  He liked that, a job he loved, a staff that adored him (or so he thought), and good coffee. He was definitely in a good mood.

He finished the coffee and decided that it was time to start work, so he took his jacket —which he had left on the rack—, put it on and took the elevator that would take him to the second floor where the partners were waiting for him. He stepped into the long, carpeted corridor in which black-and-white portraits of his father's findings were seen, as well as excavations and photographs of co-workers who had participated in them.

When he reached the door of the meeting room he heard murmur inside, so he deduced that in the end they had started without him. He grabbed the polished marble door handle and entered.

All eyes on the room turned to him immediately, and he saw the familiar faces of his colleagues. Without a word he went straight to his chair —which was at the end of the table—, and sat down. The first to speak was Dr. Miralles:

Mr. Smith, we were beginning to review the recent case in Peru, I suppose you already have all the details, but some of us have only received a thin dossier.

Of course I know the details Mr. Miralles, and that why I am here, to fill them in for you, answered Cameron, untroubled and in the neutral tone of voice he used for this type of meeting, and right now let´s begin.

He got up, went to one end of the room, pulled a rope and a completely white curtain unfolded. Then he turned off the lights and beckoned to a point in the room, where a man. Who until now had passed all unnoticed, appeared and immediately flicked a switch. The whole room could see a slide of what seemed to be a ruined town.

Gentlemen, this is the site of Pueblo Chico, in Peru. This photograph shows us its condition before our arrival, as you know, we discovered it through a priest from the area when he tried to sell my father a piece of pot from the pre-Columbian era. Cameron made another gesture and the image changed. Here you can see our camp a week later. In the image appeared the same town planted with tents. Here we see Professor Perez with the first find, a pot in perfect state of conservation that we suppose was for cooking, because of the marks of soot on the base.

Erm... pardon Mr. Smith, interrupted Mr. Rubio. I believe that we, as well as the others, are fascinated by the interesting discoveries of the expedition, but I think we must discuss another issue that is most troubling to us before continuing with this.

Cameron made another signal and immediately the images disappeared from the curtain. He turned on the light, and sat back in his chair. Cameron watched them all and suffered a sudden and renewed bout of contempt for those greedy individuals who were all thinking only about the copious monetary benefits that would come from that expedition, not caring in the slightest about the archaeological details of this discovery. He wondered when those people had lost their artistic devotion to the field and devoted themselves toward the monetary side of the profession, and swore to himself never to be like that.

Well gentlemen I suppose what you want to know is, once the excavation is finished, which part of profits is left, right? Everyone nodded without a word, but with a look of ambition on their faces; another feeling of disdain rose from his stomach to his throat.

Well, it will make you happy to know that it has not been easy. As you know, everything has been done without the consent of the Peruvian government, since if we had requested permission, we would have been given it, of course, but it would have taken three months to approve it, and by then Pueblo Chico would have been dismantled by the same government, or by someone hired by them. We have also been grateful for the tremendous ignorance of their own culture there, for if they had known the real value of the findings, we would never have left the country with them. That said I present a report of what I am telling you to get a better idea.

Sandra, who was already leaving a folder in front of each one, finished and left without saying a word closing the door when leaving.

Each one hurried to open his folder, which was a pile of figures, each with its respective clarification.

You see, Cameron began that the most important expense is reflected in the acronym GP, which means Peruvian government, but even though they think it's an exorbitant sum, bribing a country's government does not come cheap. In addition, I assure you that in proportion to what we have taken, it has been like giving a bribe to a waiter to take from his bar whatever we please.

The partners just looked at pages full of numbers with renewed interest in each page they read, and then Cameron decided to put them out of their misery

Gentlemen he said as he got up I am sure that your respective advisers will read the report and be pleased, but first I will advance something he paused to create expectation and by the way ensure all possible attention, then he continued. The investment made by each of you was in principle one million Euros, a figure that due to various problems had to be extended half a million more. So far, and of course already having covered all expenses, we have for each of you three million, and we still have half of the collection.

At that moment there was a murmur of satisfaction in the room, and everyone present embraced and offered their hands, congratulating themselves on their good management. Cameron stood staring at the scene and gloating over his triumph, the operation finally came to fruition thanks to him and only to him.

At that moment Sandra appeared, something that surprised him greatly, since she would only come in if he called her, and handed her a Manila paper neatly folded. Sandra whispered into the ear that it had just arrived and had allowed herself the luxury of getting it out from a large envelope with the word URGENT in large red letters. Cameron unfolded it, and instantly the color of his face fled, passing to white as wax.

He fell heavily into his chair and slipped the note into the inside pocket of his suit. All the mood that he had manifested during the day vanished, and a weight fell on his chest that made it impossible for him to breathe. He began to sweat copiously and to feel that the room gradually faded in front of his eyes, and at that moment he fainted.

He opened her eyes slowly and began to see faces around him. He thought he heard —possibly Sandra, although he could not tell—, shouting that everyone should leave, giving him room to breathe, but no one paid any attention to him, for he kept seeing the same faces clustered around his body.

Slowly he began to recover vision more clearly, saw his colleagues, and remembered what had happened, then jumped on his feet. He realized that they had been laying him on the table and had unzipped his shirt. He looked for Sandra and once he had located her, he said:

Sandra, please call my brother, tell him it's urgent, I need him here already! Ah, he's at my uncles' house in Murcia, locate him and tell him to come immediately.

He left the room ignoring the questions of his colleagues. He called the elevator and went up to his office, put the 'do not disturb' sign and locked him inside.

Chapter 2

Juan was on the beach. It was a great day and he liked being there with his cousin.

Antonio was of the same age and they used to have a really good time during the summer holidays, Juan had had a harder year than usual, but his father had promised that if he finished with good grades, he would take him on one of his trips, and he’d passed everything.

Juan had been looking forward to this trip, as he loved being with his father and learning a lot every time he went on one of her trips.

Juan wanted to be an archaeologist like his father, he had it in his blood, and he was really good at it. He had been on numerous trips, especially since his mother had died, but because of that, and although he was one of the best students, his father had decided that he should first finish his studies, and then could devote himself to archaeology if he was still interested.

They had decided that he would stay with his aunt in Barcelona, and for three years Juan had studied intensively in the morning in high school and in the afternoon at the private art academy, thanks to the influence of his father who had decided to enroll him even though he was not of legal age. However, just as he had been planning the voyage for months, a letter came to him explaining that he could not go since his father was on a very important excavation, which he could not take children on because it could be dangerous Juan regretfully mourned the setback but had to accept it along with his father's promise that he would make it up to him.

Juan, let's go! Or are you afraid? shouted Antonio, already on his surfboard.

Fear? Yes, that you fall and I have to rescue you replied Juan, who immediately jumped to the sea under his board and began to swim to reach his cousin.

Come on, man, we're going to miss the best waves! Antonio said as he braced like a mad to reach the area where the waves began to rise.

In Águilas, on the beach at El Hornillo, from seven o'clock in the afternoon, formidable waves formed that Juan and Antonio were looking for every day. They were always careful not to approach the rocks, for there dreadful currents used to form, which on one occasion had put them in difficulty.

Antonio reached his destination first, and waited for Juan to reach him. They both stood on the boards. The wave came and pushed them hard toward the shore, but both stood up until it broke and threw them into the water. The two stood up, wiped the water off their faces, looked at each other and began to laugh like two prisoners on the day of their acquittal.

Have you ever seen such a wave,! Antonio stammered between breaths and laughter. What a ride! And I managed to stay up longer than you.

But I rode with more style, Said Juan, still laughing and spitting water.

You're good, but you still have a way to go to catch up with me said Antonio in a tone typical of the best James Bond. Someday I'll teach you everything I know, but until that day comes, assume that you're number two

They both laughed again. Immersed in the discussion, they looked at the shore and saw someone calling them. The first to realize was Juan:

Man, isn´t Aunt Maribel waving at us?, he said, still frowning to try to see her better; Looks like she's calling us.

Yes, it's my mother, what’s going on? Probably she just wants us to do more homework, man, I'm sick of this slavery!" He said in a melodramatic tone, slapping the back of his hand on his forehead.

They both laughed again and began to swim to the place where his aunt kept calling them insistently. When they were a few meters from the shore, Juan already realized that something strange had happened. His aunt was still calling, but now he could discern the concern reflected on her face. As soon as he reached the shore his aunt rushed to him and told him that something had happened in Barcelona, that he had been called from his brother's office, and that he should return as soon as possible. Juan scared ran out followed by his cousin and his aunt.

When they got to the apartment, Juan picked up the phone and dialed the office number, because his brother did not have a cell phone, and he knew that the only place where he could be located would be there. At the second ring a woman's voice answered. Juan recognized as his brother's secretary.

Sandra, I'm Juan, what's the matter? He said ruefully.

Hi, Juan, I'm sorry to bother you during your vacation, but your brother told me to locate you immediately...

But something has happened to my brother!.

Well, I do not know. This morning a letter arrived at the office, and after reading it he locked himself in his office, said to locate you and tell you to come to Barcelona immediately.

Where is he now? Juan answered, growing more and more nervous.

He's still in his office, she said; He has not been out all day, and he does not answer calls.

Ok Sandra thanks for calling me, and if you see him tell him I'm leaving for Barcelona right now, I'll be there at night he hung up.

Just leaving the phone his aunt and his cousin harassed him with a thousand questions, but he no longer listened to them, he just thought that something really bad must have happened for his brother to act that way. Cameron always had everything under control, so he could not imagine that he needed his presence with that urgency

Juan son tell us something for God, you worry us, his aunt pleaded in a tone of voice that really indicated that she was.

But what happened? asked his cousin, who was also getting nervous. Is it serious?

I'm sorry, I have to go now Juan said almost to himself; who went up to his room without a word.

Juan packed the suitcase in record time —since he only wore light clothes for summer—, and went downstairs, where his aunt was waiting to take him to the train station, which was next to the bus station, which came very well because he could then choose which means of  transport to use. To Juan it did not matter, train or bus, he just wanted to leave as soon as possible for Barcelona. At the station they were told that both bus and train had to stop in Murcia, and from there take the further  connection to Barcelona, so Juan took the bus, since the train would still take two hours to arrive.

He said goodbye to his cousin and his aunt, promising them that when he knew what had happened he would call them immediately.

It took an hour and a half for Juan to get to Murcia, and once there, another hour to wait for the bus to Barcelona. The waiting time became increasingly unbearable. He did not understand what could have happened for his brother to call him with that hurry but it had to be something important, that was certain.

During the six hours that the trip lasted the uncertainty stayed with him. At the bus station in Murcia Juan bought several sports and archaeology magazines, but was unable to read even one of them. The idea that something bad had happened was more and more tormenting him, but he had no choice but to wait until his arrival in Barcelona to talk to his brother.

Finally at nine o'clock the bus arrived at the southern station of Barcelona, where Juan got out, looked for a taxi and gave the direction of Cameron´s office.

Chapter 3

The darkness was almost absolute. The only light in the room was the one that came from a small lamp that was on the table in front of his chair, but that focused in the opposite direction of the room, so he was in the darkness.

The screams had finally ceased after about half an hour, although in that situation it was difficult to pinpoint the time.

His hands ached from his bonds. He had tried to move his arms, but due to the position in which they had been tied they had gone numb, and he felt tremendous stings of pins and needles from every small movement. The blood on his face had already dried up along with that which stained his shirt almost completely red, and he still felt tremendous pain in all the places where he had been beaten. In spite of this he could feel fortunate, for with him they had not gone half as hard as with the other poor wretch who was lying in the opposite corner of the room.

He did not know who his captors were, nor did he know who his companion in torture was or what the people who were holding them were looking for, because up until now they had only been shouted words he did not understand and beaten him to the point of losing consciousness.

With a tremendous effort he lifted his head, looked where he was, and although he had been in this room for many hours, he still found it difficult to believe that this was really happening.

When his eyes became accustomed to the darkness he saw that the man they had been torturing in front of him was lying on the ground completely motionless, he did not know if the man was still alive or dead. He could not see his face and the man was covered with blood all over his body. At the man's feet was an elongated object—which seemed to be a bludgeon, probably with what had they been beaten him to death—, but apart from that in that room were only this man, the old table that was right in front of him, and is twisted lamp that illuminated the room. In addition to himself tied to that uncomfortable chair.

At that moment he heard the click of the lock on the door, and light penetrated the narrow room, hurting his eyes and making for a moment his vision blank. They were speaking to him, but he did not understand what they were saying, and he could not see their faces yet. Little by little he regained his vision and, only a few inches from his face ,could make out a man who froze the blood in his veins and made a chill run through him.

It was the first time he had seen him. He was not tall and strong like the others, but the sight of his face made him more afraid than the sinews and muscles of his companions. His face was full of scars —like those left by smallpox—. The mousy eyes —, which were widely separated—, were as black as a moonless night. A long, beaked nose that did not match the rest of his features  and seemed to be there only to break the harmony of that face, and a mouth from which you could barely distinguish thin, white lips, which had some resemblance to those