Early morning. 4 a.m. Next day.

I was in my car: a land rover emblazoned with the livery of the Bolivian Police. I turned on the siren because my journey to Roboré was urgent. It turned out that the storm predicted by the Brazilians had struck Bolivia early. Why are storms in Bolivia so unpredictable? I looked at my windshield and saw the wipers wagging as they cleared my view tirelessly, in spite of new drops littering the areas they just cleaned. I looked at my watch. 4:00 a.m. 

Last night, we received information about the storms getting worse; as a result, we had to redirect virtually all our teams. We were short on human capital. We couldn't do everything we want, even if we wanted to, with that emergency on the brink of arrival. Therefore, we suspended the investigation of the two missing policemen and the investigation of Rina and Aymara. We had to save the living before going and investigating what happened to the dead, if not the possibly dead. 

Roboré was facing the same situation that La Paz was facing when my son was stuck in the La Paz convention center on the day when his Model United Nations Conference ended. People were stranded, houses began flooding, sewers were clogged. Water tanks broke down. 

Honk! I slammed my horn so that the person who was trying to overtake me would stop. I hate it when people try to chase and go ahead of an ambulance or police vehicle. It's not fun to obstruct someone who is en route to help another. 

I put my phone on the phone holder attached to the center of my dashboard. I was using Waze to help me navigate the road. I usually took the highway, but that early morning, I needed to go to Roboré quickly. Bernardo told me about a path that very few, if nobody, knew of, a route which went through the jungle. It is the old, long way to Roboré; because the highways were clogged after the storm, the long road was the fastest route to Roboré. 

I was all alone in the car. The only sounds I heard were the sound of the automated voice giving me directions in Waze, the sound of the incessant downpour, and the roars of thunder. 

I glanced at the gas indicator. I had a few bars left. The gasoline would sustain me for four rounds to and fro between Roboré and Las Taperas. Oh, come on! Do you have to go off when I need you the most? My phone ran out of battery and shut down. I had never been on that road before, and without Waze, I didn't know where I was going. Jungles flanked both sides of the way. To my right-hand side, there was a line of overhead power lines with high voltage wires. To my left were hills, lush green with trees on them. 

I wanted to ask someone who knew the way to Roboré, someone who could tell me if I was indeed going in the right direction. There was no one on the road. Where are people when you need them? I should have taken someone with me instead of going alone. Bad decision. There was nothing but trees on both sides of the road until I saw a car parked by the roadside. A man and his mistress were near the hood of the car when I passed by. I can ask them. I pulled over. 

The man, probably a playboy, was startled when he saw my car pull over. But, he tried to play it cool. 

"Good morning! I'm looking for the way to Roboré. Am I on the right track?"

The man wiping the rainwater off his face answered, "Yes, sir. You have to continue straight until there is a junction about 30 minutes away. There is a smaller road to the left, which will connect you to the highway that leads to Roboré. Take that road."

"Thank you so much. I hope you have a good day," I said. I could tell that he was relieved when he knew that I wasn't after him. I got back into my car. I had my raincoat on but didn't button it up completely. The collar of the shirt I was wearing underneath the coat was drenched when I got out. I could feel the chill rainwater on my neck. It was almost icy cold outside. Never had it rained that way before. 

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