This is a work of fiction in the style of the 1930's pulps. It is NOT politically Correct in any sense of the word. Please take no offense, none is meant. Please feel free to send me feedback, whether you like the story or have criticism.
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Mark Traeger lead the way down the dark stone passage. He held out the torch, the only illumination in the temple’s depths, and swung it gently from side to side to burn away the dense accumulation of cobwebs that sought to block the way.
Missy Hampton, of the Albany Hamptons, clung to his back and shivered despite the pervasive humid heat. She had thought it a grand adventure to fund this exploration of a lost city in the Yucatan, and had insisted on accompanying Dr. Traeger personally. But now the adventure was a nightmare — her assistant Fred had been killed, mowed down by rifle fire from the jungle as he had carried a pot of hot tea to her. Most of their little expedition had died in those first moments of gunfire, but Dr. Traeger had grabbed her up and rushed her into the entrance of the large central temple.
From the deafening explosions of gunfire and the shrieks of the wounded and dying to the utter silence of the tomb. The only sound the whuffing of the torch and the sizzle of cobwebs as the vanished without ash. Then a light hum, like a small fly too close to her ear came — just before the light pinch of a sting below her right ear. She clapped her hand to the sting, opened her mouth to cry out, and the world swirled around her as she slipped senseless to the floor.
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“Miss Hampton will see you now,” she heard as her assistant, Fred, opened the door to her suite. Melissa, nee Missy, Hampton glanced at her dress to make absolutely certain not a thread was out of place. She endeavored to present a dual perception of herself— at once the beautiful daughter of a shipping magnate, desirable in every sense to every man she met, but also a serious businesswoman, someone to be reckoned with — and respected.
She was 27, old for a woman to remain unmarried. Her chestnut hair hung to her waist when she stepped from the bath, but few other than chambermaids had ever seen her hair down. She had pretty green eyes that flashed when she felt humorous or angry. She wore a simple blue silk dress, cut to show her fine long legs, in fact showing two inches of thigh above the knee. The jacket was loose, but when she sat straight (as a lady should) it hung open in just such a way as to emphasize her bountiful bosom.
In strode her appointment, as expected, a professor from the university dressed in a tweed suit with his fedora in hand. What she didn’t expect from Dr. Mark Traeger, however, was his powerfully built, tall body that made him look like a lumberjack or farmhand who had cleaned himself up and put on his Sunday best.
Missy stood and stepped into his handshake, as always to grasp a man’s hand and shake it firmly, but found herself gazing into Dr. Traeger’s smoky blue eyes. They held an intensity that at once comforted her, but also made her feel naked. She dropped her eyes and realized her hand was limp in his powerful grip.
“A p-pleasure to make your acquaintance Dr. Traeger,” she said, pinching her leg at her stammer. The man smiled easily and stood while she took her seat on the divan. She waved to indicate a chair and invited him to sit.
“I’ll get straight to it, Miss Hampton, without wasting either of our time,” he said tersely, but again Missy was surprised at the timbre of his deep bass voice. Surprised, and something more. “I have uncovered evidence of a forgotten city in the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico. Given the recent flurry of activity there since the discovery of the crystal skull, I feel I must strike while the iron is hot and lead an expedition to rediscover this city. I am here to see if you will assist in the funding of this venture.” And with that, he finally sat on the edge of the seat, elbows on his thighs, leaning forward and holding his hat between his knees.
Missy considered for a moment, and asked, “What exactly would a “venture” like this cost?”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars, but I would only ask that you put forward any amount you are willing and I will find the rest elsewhere.”
“I believe you will,” she said softly. “But there would of course be conditions attached to a large donation to your cause.” “I believe that I can meet any conditions you might have, short of allowing you to personally possess any of the objects found. Those of course would belong to the University museum.”
“I see,” she said coolly, meaning to look into his eyes, but finding she could only look at his tie, or his broad shoulders. Or his rough, powerful hands.
“Dr. Traeger,” she began, standing. Traeger sensed his defeat and had likewise risen and was preparing to leave. “I shall fund your expedition entirely, with only two provisions.”
Traeger looked at her in shock, then his eyes narrowed. Missy felt her knees go weak and a strange tingle — elsewhere. “And what provisions would those be?”