The Book of Templar

Gabe Serle slowly crept up the loose stone steps leading to a dark hole on the front of an old Aztec temple.  The Panama sun was unbearably hot.  Sweat beaded and trickled off his brow.  A stone creaked loudly underfoot.  He stopped.  He looked to the right and left and then up to the hole.  So far so good, he thought. 
         He looked at the stone under his foot.  He shifted more weight onto it.  It held.  He began to move again.  All sides of the temple wall were smooth.  It was constructed of limestone, that through the ages, turned a dark grey color with patches of black dotted throughout.  The only way to the opening at the top was up the steep, rickety stone steps. 
         As Gabe made his way to the top, he tested every stone he was to step on.  One misstep could send him hurtling down the stairs, breaking bones along the way. 
         As his head came level with the bottom of the opening, he stopped.  He looked around him.  He looked at the walls, the stairs in front of and behind him.  He unclasped the flashlight from his belt and pointed it through the opening.
         He saw a wall not more than seven feet in.  Based on the shape of the exterior wall the opening is built into, the inside dimensions of the room would be about seven feet by five. 
         A crash erupted on the ground behind him.  He spun around to see what it was.  A leopard jumped out of the bushes and started sniffing at the rental Range Rover.  Jeez, he thought, now I have to deal with that when I get back down. 
         He was deep in the jungle.  He rented the rover in the town of Jabeb about twenty five miles away.  He told the clerk at the rental office he was going to take it to the next town to the south, stay a night and be back the next day.  He picked that town because it is approximately twenty five miles away from Jabeb.  So with the mileage on the rover disguised, no one would guess that he actually took the abandoned road to the east that led past the secluded Aztec temple. 
         He focused his attention back to the opening.  The artifact should be in here, he thought.  Though he did not see it.  He slowly walked the rest of the way up the stairs.  Standing on the edge landing, he noticed it would take just a few steps before he reached the opening.  He shone the flashlight on the floor in front of him. 
         It has been rumored that men have died climbing to the top.  Those that made it into the dark opening, never came out.  For this reason, he was being extra careful. 
         He squatted down and put the flashlight down on the landing, looking for any rises or pits between the individual flat, square stones.  Finding none, he stood up and took a step forward.  A stone creaked.  That’s odd.  These stones are supposed to be built solid.  He took his foot off and took a step back. 
         He squatted down again and this time he ran his fingers along the edge of the stone in question.  He pushed on it gently.  Nothing.  He pushed harder.  A creak.  He pushed a little harder.  In a sudden whoosh, the stone dropped down a few inches.  Gabe yanked his hand back.  He heard a click on both sides of him.  Sensing great danger, he leapt backward just as two metal spears jolted through the rock from both sides of the landing, stabbing the air he occupied not a second ago. 
         He fell backwards down the stairs flailing his arms out.  He caught some stone jutting up from the side of the stairway and stopped his fall.  He lay there a moment trying to collect himself.  That was too damn close, he thought.  His back aching, he got up.  He rubbed his head and looked down at the leopard still sniffing the Rover.
         As he made his way back up the steps he noticed that the spears had retracted into the wall and the stone had moved back flush with the rest of the floor.  The entrance was six stones wide so he was guessing that the other five stones in line with the trigger stone were all booby trapped. 
         He grabbed a medium sized loose rock from the steps and tossed it on the stone just beyond the booby trap.  It landed with a thud.  Nothing happened.  Stepping over the spear trigger, he let his foot touch softy on the other side.  Nothing happened.  Then he threw his weight over and stood up.  With his flashlight, he scanned the floor inside the room.  Flat stone just like the landing.  He pointed it to the walls.  Thin vines and cobweb covered it.  The room was otherwise empty.
         “What the hell?” he muttered.  “Am I missing something here?”  He took out his leather bound journal and flipped through the pages.  The artifact was supposed to be in here, he thought.  Unless someone got to it first.  All evidence indicated that it should still be in the temple.  Months of research had brought him here in the quest to find the Lost Idol of Ishema.  A highly sacred statue mentioned in the Book of Torah.  According to the runes, in 1022, it was cast in gold blessed by the Deacon of Rathma and modeled into the figure of the High Priestess Ishema.  It was storied to bring back to full health anyone who lay ill.  Legends, of course, but still a highly sought after item of great worth. 
         He had studied everything he could find on the Book of Torah and the Lost Idol.  When the Book was put on display at the Met, he went to see it.  The Book was closed and placed under a thick lexen cover, so he couldn’t see the pages.  But he did notice a little indentation in the upper right hand corner of the leather cover.  He snapped a picture with his small hidden camera hidden in his jacket.  Later he developed the picture.  He just happened so glance at the negative as the photo was developing when he noticed a clear symbol.  An Aztec symbol.  It would have been an indistinguishable indentation looking at the finished photo.  But through the negative, it was clear as day.  And it was the only clue as to the whereabouts of the Idol in the whole book.  Even the scientists studying the Book found no evidence of the Idol’s location throughout the whole book.  Gabe was extremely lucky in that fashion.  Had the book been opened, he never would have found the clue.
         After a few months of researching and studying the Aztecs, he came to the conclusion that the idol was located in a temple in Panama.  So secluded was the temple that hardly anyone but the locals knew it was there.  But, apparently, someone did.     
         With great caution, he stepped forward into the empty room.  A string of cobweb swung down and hit his face.  He froze.  It stuck to his shirt just below his chin.  He was just about to remove it when he noticed a very thin wire enshrouded be the web.  Another trap.  One tiny movement on this wire may trigger it.
         He heard something behind him.  Not daring to move his body, he slowly reached into his leather pouch slung across his chest and pulled out a small mirror with a telescoping handle attached to it.  He held it out so he could see behind him.  The leopard.  It was almost to the top of the stairs.  It stopped just before the spear trigger stone.  Beads of sweat trickled down his face.  The leopard stood there just five feet away, looking at him.  Damn. 
         A few minutes ticked by.  The leopard stood there.  Realizing it wasn’t going to approach him any further at least for the moment, Gabe focused on the wire.  He wanted to look up to see what it might be attached to but the wire was also touching on the brim of his brown fedora.  Moving his head so may activate the trap.  He was sure it might be sensitive to weight, so cutting it is out of the question as it could detect the subtraction of the wire.  Or it may not even be a trap.  Perhaps that’s what the other doomed temple explorers thought.  He wasn’t going to risk it. 
         With the air very still around him, a slight gust of wind may prove damning.  He reached up with his right hand and lightly grasp the wire in front of his face.  He waited.  After a moment, he started to pull it away from his chest, keeping the movement even and straight.  It pulled away from his shirt without incident.  Now he slowly backed away until his hat lost contact with the wire.  He stood there, right in the doorway, holding the nearly invisible wire at arms length.  The leopard’s raspy breathing behind him filled the still air. 
         He thought of a myriad of things this trap may be; poison darts, sulfuric acid, more spears, falling rock, spikes jutting from the floor.  It could come from anywhere in the room too; the ceiling, either side walls, the wall in front of him, the floor.  In studying ancient traps through the years, he knew that a trap a few thousand years old could spring just as good as one made yesterday.  The result will surly be painful and defiantly deadly.
         As he looked at the wire, something caught his eye on the far wall.  It was a crack in the mortar.  A small opening about three inches wide and just over a quarter inch tall.  He shone his flashlight on it with his left hand.  The opening lit up, revealing a metal object.  It was two inches across a quarter inch thick and rounded.  A trap?  He moved the flashlight back and forth laterally across the crack.  Although it was partially obscured by cobweb and dust, the way the shadows were moving around the object, he determined that it was not connected to anything in the wall.  If it isn’t a trap, then what is it? 
         His right arm was starting ache from holding onto the wire.  He glanced behind him.  The leopard was breathing shallowly, eyes fixated on him.  Jumping out of the doorway toward the feline hardly appealed to him.  But neither would lurching the other way.  Who knows what might happen?  He wished he had his pistol on him.  That would take care it.  But he left it in the Rover as a safety precaution just in case he fell, so it wouldn‘t go off.  It sure would be nice to have it now. 
         He glanced all around the opening.  To his left, in the door way, he spotted a loose stone, maybe 10 pounds.  He reached his free arm out and just barely grabbed it, all the while making sure he doesn’t jerk the wire.  He slowly brought the stone to his chest.  Looking up at the wire in his hand, he slowly, meticulously turned around to face the leopard.  He did a slow underhanded toss and the stone landed on the spear trigger.  The leopard watched it fall, not backing away.  The trigger stone did not move.  The leopard looked up at Gabe and locked eyes.  It bared it’s teeth and growled.  It stepped over the trigger as if it knew there was a hidden danger there.  It came to within two feet of Gabe when, as it brought it’s last hind leg over the trigger stone, it brushed the rock Gabe tossed.  The stone depressed in the floor and the spears shot out, stabbing the cat through it’s hips.  It let out a mighty roar.  It thrashed about, trying to work it’s way free.  A few minutes later, it slumped to the floor, dead. 
         Throughout the whole thing, Gabe focused on the wire in his hands.  he brought the flashlight up to the dark corner of the ceiling above his head to see what the wire was attached to.  Nothing.  It looked like it went through a crack in mortar.  He glanced at the object in the wall.  He had to get it.
         After clasping the flashlight on his belt, he reached out with his left toward the dark wall.  Keeping his right hand steady on the wire, he could just barely brush the wall.  He felt around until he found the crack.  He slipped his fingers in it.  Hot quite there.  He shifted his body a little, stretching his arms out as much as he could without jangling the wire.  His fingers slid through a little more.  He could feel the object on the very tip of his middle finger.  A little bit more.  He strained.  Sweat dripped off his nose.  The dank, humid air was heavy.  He shifted a little more.  The wire fell out.  Uh-oh.  A crunch sounded from above.  Glass.  Sulfric acid.  He quickly jerked his hand out, spun around and lept to the doorway.  The acid started pouring down. 
         He jumped through the door head first, to the left side of the spear trap and dead leopard and landed on the flat, steep wall of the temple.  The acid poured through the doorway, and down the steps and front wall.  Gabe was sliding down the steep incline, acid rushing after him.  One spatter on skin and it’s over.  The ground came up fast and hit him hard.  He got up and jumped away just as the acid reached the bottom.  It soaked into the dirt. 
         Breathing hard and wiping sweat from his face, he counted his blessings.  Damn, he thought.  With the acid covering the stairs, he’d have to wait a few weeks before he could go up again.  He really did not like the idea of going through the whole ruse again.  Plus he’d have to stay in Panama the whole time too.  The object, whatever it was, would have to wait. 
         He started toward the Rover.  He took his hat off with his right hand and fanned himself.  He was about to undo a button on his shirt with his other hand when he noticed that his hand was balled into a fist.  He opened it up and there lay the object, gray and musty.  A key.  With writing on it.  He stopped and stood for a moment in disbelief.  The shock of the events that just happened must have ruled his mind to the point where he didn’t realize he had actually grabbed it and held onto it.
         He smiled at his fortune.  Though he was extremely disappointed about not finding the idol, it would have been that much worse had he walked away empty handed.  The key, he knew, opened something.  And what it was made to open must be very important or valuble to whoever planted it in the temple.  Perhaps the idol has never been at the temple.  Maybe through all the research he did the last few months really pointed to the key.  But what does the key point to?  He had no idea.  He had to find out.  But to do that, he must contact an old colleague of his.