It happens once in a while, but sometimes El Comisario can't sleep at night. There never is something in particular to bug him all night, like problems, wars, shortages, poor Cretan laws, kids having a party upstairs... Nothing like that. He simply had too much sleep on his everyday siesta, or his dinner was sooo mucho grande even he could handle. Or both.
So, he walks. Usual place for that is his hacienda's garden behind high stone walls, but he was on duty last day. So, there he is, walking through corridors of Elders underground facility.
He stopped. This room... so dark... so calm. It was full of life before, when he was just a chief of police down at Gran Canaria. What golden times were those times... A room full of Benitez Elders, Black Sails and of course The Brotherhood ones. Working, drinking, singing, arguing, making wars... all in the name of El Mighty Empire. He always wanted to be in this room, but he was just a little chief of local police. Later he was a little chief of Cretan police and he was sure there was nothing little about him any more. But door of this room remained closed to him. Then El Presidente came, deep in his wisdom, giving all Elders all what they wanted to have. So they got lazy and soon no one cared about solving other people's problems. Elders Chambers lost their purpose. Just call El Presidente when you want to have something. Or just call El Comisario when you want something (or more often someone) gone. Soon no one cared even if door was left open. Nothing worth hiding has been left in.
Now room's dark and empty.
No one's here.
Only that monitor that is blinking.
Caramba, this monitor is blinking! El Comisario jumped like a cat and in a second he was in front of the monitor, making his fail of the night. Monitor was covered with dust and so he... well, he blowed. A cloud of dust immediately was on his face and he had to sneeze. Then again. And again. He sneezed again.
He tried to not sneeze, but he sneezed again.
And he sneezed again.
El Comisario left the room, to find a paper napkin. He returned after a minute, with a bunch of napkins in his macho fist. But napkins didn't help him to stop sneezing at all.
So he sneezed.
And he sneezed again.
After maybe an hour of sneezing, El Comisario gently wiped out the dust from the screen. So, he could finally read what was on.
"What is it?" asked a woman's voice from behind him, somewhere in the dark.
He jolted slightly, as if waking up from a daydream, his mind far away... he turned his head and glanced behind slightly.
"Nothing, the system wants a password....." He looked again at the steadily blinking light on the pad in front of him.
He had been gone for some time and he never felt comfortable with how it happened. But some things needed to be protected, because those things could not be undone.
Nor would he wish them to be.... yet still...
"Is that... good for us? or bad for us?" The woman asked again.
He sat up, cocking his neck sideways so an audible "crack" was heard.
"Well, good for us, It means that I haven't been blocked out of the system"...
Or the system isn't used anymore - he thought to himself.
It happens once in a while, but sometimes El Comisario can't sleep at night. There never is something in particular to bug him all night, like problems, wars, shortages, poor Cretan laws, kids having a party upstairs... Nothing like that. He simply had too much sleep on his everyday siesta, or his dinner was sooo mucho grande even he could handle. Or both.![[Image: 3tN2x9Z.png]](http://i.imgur.com/3tN2x9Z.png)
![[Image: mbAS3yH.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/mbAS3yH.jpg)