What the hell is a áswetséwet? it is a Cahuilla word for eaglesnake. It is another name for Quetzalcoatl. - sciencefiction ancienttechnology
Paul never knew how little control over his day he would have after rising to the position of vice president. He was on the way out for a round of golf with other vice presidents at the Institute only to be waylaid by a frantic phone call from Sacramento. The Institute appeared to have lost track of ten million dollars.
“This guy is telling us the áswetséwet are out and about. He also claims The Institute has a contractual obligation to the Serrano tribe. An old lumber company The Institute bought over a century ago had a signed ‘treaty’ with a Serrano chief. It appears to have something to do with harvesting lumber in the early 1900s in a place called Green Valley in the San Bernardino mountains. The document specifically references this áswetséwet as well.
“Well áswetséwet might not be real but this damn contract says we have a ten million dollar trust at the Bank of Alex Brown. I am not sure. It appears to have existed once upon a time, but if the bank still exists it is a different name. I will keep looking for the money Paul, but I need you to go there. Use your local connections. The Morongo tribe is the natural owner of this “Serrano” treaty and they are watching this intently. They have powerful lobbyists here in Sacramento.
In any case, Cornerstone operated a facility in Los Angeles. Fortunately, the vault where the trust was still being stored was near LAX. It was in the heart of old Los Angeles money, Century City. He told the cab driver not to wait as he pulled his briefcase and suitcase from the back seat. Paul smiled back, and nodded, returning the cheerful greeting. “And a good morning to you sir as well.” Paul liked to return the obsequious greetings of staff with some joy and respect.
Paul nodded his thanks to the janitor and into the shiny metal box he went. As the door closed, he saw the janitor look toward the doorman. The doorman raised his eyebrows at the janitor’s glance. Suits who were courteous and polite to the working staff never went unnoticed. “Here is the key code for #222”, the clerk slid a piece of paper to him. Paul turned and headed toward his left. Paul noted an area where others were going through security. It seemed like this was where to check safe deposit boxes, so he headed that way. “No, the other way sir. Down that hallway”, she pointed
Paul walked into the room toward the chest. The door automatically closed behind him. Paul immediately walked back to the door and waved his hand at the door handle. The door automatically opened. “Paul, Paul. Trying to get a hold of you because Abraham Black Dog III called me.” Joe started right in as soon as he answered Paul’s call.
“What the hell! I do not believe you!” Joe shouted into the phone. “You are pulling my leg. That is worth way more than ten million dollars!” Paul now found himself in his old stomping grounds. Green Valley Lake was a tiny town in the mountains of Southern California. Paul was a native of the San Bernardino Mountains. He knew Green Valley Lake well. He also knew meeting there was going to take a 4WD vehicle.
He reached back onto the passenger seat to make sure he had the shotgun in easy reach. Paul had no idea who Abraham Black Dog the 3rd really was or why he wanted to meet in Green Valley Lake. “Kukulkan, my friend. The Aztecs inherited much of Mayan culture like the feathered serpent they named Quetzalcoatl. Likely, that was originally Mayan or maybe Olmec gold you saw.”
“Sometimes you just need somebody to serve,” Steve had said quoting Einstein. Their relationship seemed literally a match made in heaven. Paul remembered his envy. Two people who wanted to serve each other so loyally and lovingly. It was a beautiful thing. Steve caught the matchbook expertly, but then fell off the rock. He rolled about in the dirt of the clearing. Paul thought he was crying again but then realized Steve was laughing hysterically.
“I dunno, the government, spooks or the military or all of them or none of them.” Steve shook his head back and forth. He continued, “I guess spy agencies like recruiting archaeologists. Lawrence of Arabia had initially been an Oxford student working with a crew of British archaeologists who were excavating Carchemish in Egypt, you know. “
Steve continued, “Based upon this meeting Tina became very excited and motivated to go to Mexico. I went with her because that is what I do.” Steve paused and wiped away a tear. “That is what I used to do.” Paul looked closely at the map. He realized Mt. San Gorgonio and Mt. San Jacinto were there on the map too. There were several places noted in the San Bernardino mountains…or so it appeared.“Yep,” Steve replied matter-of-factly. “Tina went to meet Figueroa and Black Dog at a secret previously agreed upon location in the Southern California desert. I was not allowed to go.” Steve stopped talking.
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