The man knocked the snow off his thick boots, un-shouldered his pack , stepped past mountain-sized guards and made his way across the dark wood floor of the study to where a suave Latin-gentleman sat and smoked a Cuban in front of a roaring fire.

"Did you get me anything good, Gringo?" said the grey-haired and olive skinned man between puffs as his dark eyes took in the measure of the hard scruffy scavenger decked out in heavy duty winter wear that stood across from him.

"Don't I always?" replied the blue-eyed stranger removing his therma-cowl. "But this time it's going to cost you double." he replied dropping his bag on the soft plush chair opposite the Mexican before quickly lighting up the remains of an rolled cigarette.

"Double? You dare drag your smelly Gringo ass into my family's hacienda and demand double for some half-frozen scavenged garbage? Just because my sister and Mother are obsessed with other people's trash doesn't mean I'm a Pendejo. And you wonder why The people of Mexico hate you ex-Estados so much? You don't even have a country anymore and you still act like every one owes you something. Personally, I think it's just desserts that god sent the glaciers. In fact, I'd tell you to go back to where you came, but that's pretty much what I pay you for anyways," chuckled the Mexican.

The hard blue eyed man shrugged and said, " Well, this isn't like the unsual dreck your picaros dredge up. I managed to make it to D.C. and acquire a, how would you say it, a highly unique item, this time."

"Bullshit, Gringo. The Potomac's un-navigable and I know you didn't walk all that way. Last I heard the temperatures and the snow are so bad anyplace North of Raleigh is a frozen waste-land. Sell your bullshit to my cousin Raoul, he may be mudo enough to believe it," scoffed the Mexican simultaneously waving his hand and stubbing out his cigar.

"I don't care much which one of you wetbacks buy it, but I know you'll both want it once word of what it is gets around and i didn't drag my ass to Mexico city to give it away or get shot for it. So take a look. I'm giving you first dibs since you've been fair with me, Garcia. Take a look, before you run your mouth enough to get yourself killed," shot the blue-eyed man, back, as he removed a carefully wrapped box from his worn pack and tossed it to the Mexican."

Garcia barked out staccato laugh in response and shook his head, "Ah that's why I let you work for me Taylor...You have cojones at the very least, I'll give you that, he said motioning to his guards who had both taken a step forward at the man's insult.

Garcia then carefully unwrapped the package and gasped in surprise, "Merde, Gringo is this what I think it is. How could you have gotten this? Even your fedarales couldn't get their hands on this."

"That's propitiatory knowledge. Let's just say I froze one of my balls off climbing a fucking glacier and had to beat an Eskimo to death with a Yeti's arm in the process. You like?" Taylor spat back with a sarcastic- grin as he watched the Mexican carefully scan over the thin parchment paper he was inspecting.

The Mexican ignored him, to busy to respond as his stubby fingers traced each letter of the words 'In the course of human events...' reverently. "Like it? I'll pay your double, triple if you can get me any of the rest. I'll be the envy of every collector in the Country. You magnificent guero, this is really the real deal. It's not just a beat-up King novel or an scratched up Led Zeppelin record," said the Mexican carefully placing the age-worn document back in it's box."

"So we got a deal?"

"That we do, Gringo." clapped the Mexican as he smiled ear to ear.Then tossing Taylor a large bag of pesos he continued, "Have a drink in the bar on me and then get your ass back out there,"

"Si, Senoir," laughed the hard man taking a final drag on his cigarette. Then turning he walked away, pocket jingling with each step.