The sound of a car door slamming awoke Daniel. Bolting up he felt his head make contact with the car's hood.
"Ow," he muttered sleepily. Rubbing the spot that ached, Daniel peered into the window. Greenery still covered the scenery unlike any he'd witnessed in a long time. Drowsy, Daniel pulled out his right arm to inspect his father's cracked watch.
Half-past noon. So they were driving for about an hour. Again Daniel turned back towards the window, not sure what to expect.
It had been two days since he had spoken with Catherine and accepted the position. Through the exhaustion, and lack of Caffeine Daniel tried to figure out, for about the hundredth time what exactly this job would entitle.
Maybe from a certain University . . . No impossible. Shame filled within him at the thought of the last conference he had conducted. The crowd of professors and archeologists basically laughing in his face. Not even Charles, his close college friend, took his side.
"Daniel," Charles sighed, when Daniel asked why everyone left. "I'm sorry but what did you expect to happen?"
Daniel remembered the annoyance building up in his body. Charles had that look that everyone had these days whenever he failed: pity.
"I expected to be heard out at least," he said laughing humorlessly. Though annoyed Daniel never liked to cause a spectacle. Even with his friends.
"Daniel you're one of the best translators I've ever come across. So why do you keep up with these stupid theories. I told you that no one is going to take what your saying seriously."
"It's not theories Charles," Daniel explained, gnawing at his father's chipped watch. This was a habit of his when about to go into a rant. Charles's eyes glanced down warily, but he said nothing. "It's well supported research. Why can't you understand? Like I was saying, the pyramids are one of the only structures in ancient Egypt that have nearly no inscriptions in the inside—"
"Yes, yes Daniel I know," Charles drawled impatiently. "Daniel I know all this, but the evidence you have isn't enough. They're theories and just that."
"Well you're warranted your opinion Charles—"
"Look Dan, I tried to help here," Charles interrupted sharply. Daniel shut up, surprised at the edge in Charles's voice. "I can't help you anymore. You're on your own okay. I've tried my best, but you've left me no choice."
With that he had turned his back on Daniel, scurrying out of the hotel without inquiring back.
Insides aching, Daniel mourned the loss of his friend. He didn't really blame Charles for giving up on him. He had even expected it. Charles was proud and disliked it when people didn't care for themselves. Even so, Daniel still carried the hole like a dead weight.
"Sir, you'd best prepare yourself." Daniel's head snapped up suddenly confused at the interruption. The driver was peering at him at the mirror, disbelief since plain his eyes.
"What," Daniel muttered confused. Idiot we've arrived, he thought to himself shamefully. "Oh really. Thank you, sorry," Daniel replied.
The greenery around the car had evaporated and Daniel could now see the make out of some facility ahead. He lifted his body to get a better look. A large fence came into view as the car eased ahead. Soldiers in full uniform stood guard and Daniel's stomach turned over. What was the military doing here? At the car's approach, the fence automatically opened and they went in.
Daniel saw that they were in a huge garage of some sorts. The driver parked in amongst an array of various cars of the same model. An officer called out his name, signaling Daniel to exit the car and retrieve his belongings. Daniel followed the man down the railings towards the elevators, trying very hard to keep up with his pace, while carrying his very heavy luggage. They entered the small, cramped elevator, making their way towards the basement. Why are we headed to the basement, he asked himself. His eyes went around aimlessly, desiring clues of any kind. Why are there so many soldiers here I thought this was a job of translation?
Suddenly, Daniel was stricken with a fit of sneezes, making him drop his bags and quickly reach for his handkerchief. Ah, allergies, why does this have to happen now?
"Cold, " asked the Officer, a shadow of a smile spreading across his features. Daniel knew he was amused. He always got that reaction from men of the sort. He saw it on all the people who spurned his lectures and theories; he could even remember his own grandfather giving him that look when he was told that Daniel was sticking to Linguistics and his focus. What use do you have for languages; you need to follow your parent's footsteps if you know what's good for you boy.
Resisting the urge to frown at this, Daniel gave the officer his warmest smile. No need to let them know they bothered him. Daniel clutched the handkerchief to his nose before blowing through it hard.
"Allergies," he responded, sniffling a bit before the door opened. The officer indicated that he should follow.