Temples and Tablets: the Eyes of the Jaguar

1+ ONE +1

Panama City, PANAMA 03.27.1956

You step out from the cool shade back onto the main street and pull down your white straw Panama hat to shield your eyes from the bright light. The sun is even hotter here than it was in Mexico over a week ago, but it's always like that when you move south and get even closer to the Equator. The heat itself is different; thick, humid and exactly what you expected of the tropics, after all you know them well. Despite being in the middle of a city with not an inch of water insight, the bay is just a few blocks away and stretches wide into the Pacific Ocean, whose strong winds provide the only relief against the heat, for you and this large Capital, that is wedged in between two giant continents.

Deep in the Casco Viejo, or old town of Panama City, you are busy looking for the small café where you agreed to meet your friend and fellow archeologist, Salvador Martinez for lunch. You swiftly glance down the cobblestone road behind you, to check if anyone is following you. You ease a bit, the road is empty and a little salty breeze has picked up, cooling down both you and your worries.

With no one in sight, you quickly cross the Plaza De La Independencia and quietly disappear in yet another dark alley way. Ever since Salvador urgently called you at your hotel this morning, you've had your guard all the way up. He hadn't wanted to tell you anything over the phone but only said he needed to meet you in person.

It could only mean one thing; whatever it was, it was going to be bad.

After a few more minutes of walking  and following the delightful smell of simmering fresh Sancocho, you finally find what you're looking for. Crammed into an old yellow colonial house, the legendary Café de la Cruz looked like an old little ramshackle establishment. Only its exclusive clientele knew that it actually took up the entirety of the building. Quietly slipping into the cafe, you walk right through and out the back, into the grand courtyard reserved for its private members.

You join the two old men smoking cigars in the shade of a palm tree and sit down in one the large wicker chairs yourself. And apparently not even a moment too soon. Before you can even get the smartly dressed waitress to take down your order, Salvador bursts through the doors and right into the middle of courtyard. Taking off his hat and wiping away the dripping sweat on his forehead, it almost looks as if he ran all the way here. He immediately sends off the waitress to fetch a bottle of rum for the both of you. You're barely able to slip her a twenty and ask her to get your usual instead, before she hurriedly runs off to get your orders.

Meanwhile, completely exhausted, Salvador puts down his hat on the coffee table and lets himself fall into the wicker chair across from you,

"You are going to need a rum after this, believe me."

The waitress returns with your drinks and Salvador waits for her to leave again, before he continues,

"My friend, it's true. I just came back from the Ministerio and someone really did hand in all the permits this morning."

Utterly confused you sip your passion fruit daiquiri with a hint of extra lime and ask,

"What do you mean? Who are you talking about?"

Salvador takes a swig of rum and nervously runs his fingers through his dark hair before answering,

"It's the reason I called you this morning. I found out last night that someone is planning the exact same expedition as us. They made an inquiry at the university and luckily, I heard about it in time. All I know is that it's a Spanish research team who arrived in Panama shortly after you did. I'm telling you Kevin, they are planning to steal the treasure and worst of all, our discovery!"

Spanish was all the information you needed to know exactly who it was. It could only be but your lifelong enemies, Gutiérrez and his archeological research team from España.

And with them involved, there was only one course of action left for you to take.

You down the rest of your daiquiri in one go, look Salvador right in the eye and say,

"Get our crew lined up. We are leaving early!"

Changuinola, PANAMA 04.01.1956

You hear the sound of turbines and look up just in time to see the plane that brought you here fly past. It will be at least another week before the next one comes but you never planned to be on it anyway. Far away from any city, you are one step closer to wilderness and only a few hours away from being completely surrounded by jungle. Technically you're in the jungle already, but just like you, civilization had also made it this far into the wild.

You are currently in Changuinola, just off the coast in northern Panama, making the last few preparations before you head out into serious nature with your team. The boats are already waiting and will take you deep into the rainforest along the Changuinola river, up until the first checkpoint, from where you will continue on foot. The air is thick and heavy with all the humidity, so you can't tell if its that or the anticipation making you catch your breath.

You head towards the river and join the rest of your team standing with Salvador at the pier. There you meet and shake hands with the man who will be guiding you through the rainforest, Mr. Enrique Pedro Bartolomeo Torres-Jiminez, and he tells you to just call him 'guide' instead. He also informs you that everyone is set and that we can depart right away.

You have one foot in the boat when you hear someone call your full name from a distance. Surprised to say the least, you instantly turn your head and see a tall brunette jogging along the pier towards you.

Dressed in her green khakis and trusty army-grade boots, with a pair of aviators perched on the bridge of her nose, its none other than the wretched creature Dr. Emily Carpenter herself.

With her superior British intelligence people call her 'a rare gift to the field of archeology' but to you she's just a giant pain in the behind. No matter where you go, she always ends up on one of your expeditions, solving problems and saving people's lives from overly aggressive iguanas when nobody asked her too. No doubt her appearance this time round is the work of her treacherous boss, Dr. Higginsbottom.

You lift both arms and angrily shake your fists at the sky. Your voice can be heard all the way to the Andes as you bellow "HIGGINSBOTTOM!" out into the open. Spooked by the sound, birds fly in squawking wave from the trees.

You have done this often enough to know the drill, so you just wave Emily over and wait silently. You have no time to lose by arguing and it's not like you'd win either way.

Seconds later Emily arrives at the boat and you take her backpack, passing it to another crew member so he can store it away. You swiftly help her into the boat and hop in yourself. Its finally time to leave.

The engines start and you find yourself moving away from civilization...

At least that is, civilization as you know it.

Enter the jungle of the jaguar go to 2

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