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Nina looked alarmed. “I don’t recall the table dancing.”

“Of course not,” Sam grinned. “That is the charm of Tia Maria.”

Sam was present in his usual capacity as photographer and record keeper, but he was working more closely with Purdue to assure that they satisfy their own ends as far as the find was concerned. After barely escaping with their lives during the excursion in the Alboran Sea, the two men felt that it was owed to them that they could compile a more privatized report. There were things the three relic hunters omitted to the authorities, and rightly so. Purdue had funded both excursions in their entirety, with no obligation, including the trip to South America to help Sagunto Police Chief, Capt. Pedro Sanchez. The Spanish government would certainly not reimburse him for his trouble, as it was not an official request. Therefore, Purdue and his companions found it only fair that they keep what they discovered during the life-threatening pursuit they had inadvertently become involved in.

With no small amount of surprise, they had found that the entire business with the child’s abduction and attempted murder was driven by the insidious agenda of the infamous Order of the Black Sun. The latter had been a scourge to Purdue, especially, since he had declared open war on the clandestine Nazi organization that still prevailed in the seedy underbelly of the highest global consortiums.

From the dive that yielded the horrific piles of Nazi skeletons, they also retrieved an ancient Inca statue of a woman, cast in pure gold. This was one of the artifacts, along with a golden prayer stick, that was not declared to any of the government agencies involved in the Peruvian expedition. Purdue had paid both Sam and Nina a substantial amount for their services during the pursuit, and added a hefty bonus for their share of the golden treasures now beautifying a vault in his vast manor.

Now, all that was left of the terrible ordeal suffered, was solving the conundrum of the mummified remains. The three friends had been tested well beyond their capabilities without even realizing it at first, but only after they returned to Scotland did they fully appreciate the jeopardy they faced. Barely surviving drowning, sustaining various injuries by torture, enduring danger at every turn and even witnessing traumatic things like hypnotic suggestion and cannibalism, they could not wait to put the Inca episode behind them.

In the sub-level of the giant manor, Purdue had several laboratories, each serving its own purpose in exercises like carbon dating and information technology science. On the same floor, right underneath the extensive entrance hall off the front door lobby, Purdue had four large storage vaults to accommodate bigger pieces. Artifacts, paintings, and impressive containers holding heavy items like safes and airtight cages, were kept here.

The iron and steel casket, containing Purdue’s grisly treasure of bone and Swastika, was lodged on the eastern wall of the room marked Storage 4. It was situated right next to the chemical dating facilities of Lab A, where Nina previously examined some ancient scrolls for Purdue.

“Right, let’s test the samples we took from their uniforms to rule out poisoning,” Purdue told Nina and Sam. Sam was busy rolling on his camera to capture the full investigation for submission to the Spanish authorities. Nina winced. Dressed in a white overcoat and gloves, she looked the part, but she could not deny feeling properly grossed out.

“You have done this before, Nina. What is getting to you this time?” Purdue asked, perplexed by Nina’s unusually personal approach. “It’s the same as the child cadaver you inspected when we went looking for the Vault of Hercules, remember?”

With her flashing dark brown eyes she looked at him and then Sam’s lens. “It is so not the same. I hope you edit this out, Sam.”

“It’s actually a live stream. They are all watching from Madrid right now,” he replied. Purdue seemed a tad alarmed at Sam’s revelation, but noticed the journalist’s faint smirk and relaxed.

“He is pulling your leg, Nina,” he coaxed, wagging a finger at Sam. “We don’t need more hold-ups, Sam. Put away your evil for the moment.” The two men grinned as she gave them a dirty look.

“I don’t know what it is about this examination, guys,” she admitted, slowly placing the first sample into the solvent to prepare it for examination. “Something about knowing that they were someone’s son, husband, or brother, makes me feel a bit less professional than usual.”

“Sentimental?” Purdue frowned. “That is unlike you.”

“Precisely,” she shrugged. “I have seen, and handled, many corpses and mummies, as you know. My emotions never factor into my examinations. It is all about uncovering secrets of the past. Usually, it is a singe. But with these blokes, and it is not the SS marks or the death’s head hats, nothing like that…”

“Maybe it is because they died in masses?” Sam suggested, drawing from his own experience behind the borders of countries run by genocidal dictators. Investigative journalism was a front row seat to the atrocities of human sin and tyranny and he had seen more than his fair share. “I remember when I covered the slaughter in Rwanda and the secret eradications in Zimbabwe during the first years of my career. My God, those heaps of bodies! It was different than to see one or two dead people, you know? It made them faceless, void of identity, even to be classified as human.”

“Aye! That is exactly how I feel, Sam,” she exclaimed, sounding relieved that someone understood her odd repulsion at what was normally just another ‘antique appraisal’. “But, as I am being paid handsomely,” she sighed, glancing at Purdue with a quick wink, “I suppose I shall have to earn my worth in a professional manner… no matter how it fucks with my head.”

She placed the sample in the scanner to ascertain if there were any anomalous compositions present in the fabric. Sam moved slowly to where Purdue was busy checking the examination one of his forensic staff members from an affiliate academy was working on one of the cadavers.

“This is the sixth one, Mr. Purdue,” the man reported, hand in his sides. Sam panned with the camera to capture the man’s full frame, from head to toe, and softly remarked to the microphone how the scientist’s attire made him look like a Stormtrooper from Star Wars. Purdue looked at the scientist with some expectation.

“Yes, and that means?” he finally asked.

, “I cannot seem to find anything,” the man sighed and shook his head

“How do you mean, Harris?” Purdue asked the forensic expert who has freelanced for him before.

“I mean,” he tried again, his face dancing between perplexity and vexation, “I know what I am doing. I have done this for two decades, Mr. Purdue, but I have to say, this case has me baffled. You see, I cannot find a cause for these men to have been mummified. Your report indicated that most of them were found stuffed into ovens and the warmth of the boiler room.”

“That is correct, Harris. That is how we found them. In fact, Mr. Cleave here has the entire dive’s footage from the camera he was wearing on a collar at the time if you wish to see the environment in which we found them.”

“No,” Harris bowed his head and gestured with an open hand that it would not be necessary, “thank you. I fully trust what you told me. It is just that, well, that kind of heat is not close enough to representing an environment that could cause mummification, sir.”

“That is what we thought too,” Sam mentioned as he paced sideways around the two men to film from the other side of the slab. Harris looked up with hope in his eyes. To him, it was a relief to hear that Mr. Cleave concurred right when he was beginning to feel inept at his methods.