The Death Relic (19 page)

‘I know you do, but—’

‘But what?’

Payne leaned away from him. ‘First of all, you’re a little too close to me right now. Please back up before I’m forced to give you a mint.’

He smiled and took a giant step back. ‘Sorry.’

‘Second, you know how I feel about begging.’

Jones rolled his eyes. ‘It should only be done by children in Third World countries, or in movies for comic effect.’

‘Exactly.’

‘In my defence, I act like a child quite frequently, and Mexico isn’t exactly a superpower.’

‘Those are very good points.’

‘I thought so.’

Payne continued. ‘Thirdly, despite my recent outburst and my obvious frustration, I am not the main problem here. I think both of us know that Maria has a bigger issue with me than I do with her. As long as she harbours that animosity, there’s very little I can do besides staying out of her way – and that will be tough to do if I’m trying to protect her.’

‘Trust me, we’re in complete agreement on this one. As soon as she calmed down, I let her know that she was at fault and her childish behaviour would not be rolerated.’

Payne smirked. ‘Yeah, I’m sure you said it just like that.’

‘Or words to that effect.’

‘That means you begged her to give me one more chance.’

Jones laughed. ‘I will not confirm or deny the allegation.’

‘Personally, I don’t care what you said or how you said it, as long as her behaviour improves. If she pulls that argumentative shit when we’re in a dangerous situation, there’s a very good chance someone will end up dead.’

‘I agree.’

‘Does she know that?’

‘I’ll make sure she does.’

Payne pointed at the Hummer. ‘Speaking of danger, I think it’s time you told me what you found with the artefacts. I need to know what we’re facing here.’

Jones stared at him. ‘How do you know I found something?’

‘How? Because I’m fucking psychic.’

‘If that’s the case, then you already know what I found.’

‘Shit, I walked right into that one.’

‘Which proves you
aren’t
psychic.’

Payne conceded the point. ‘Actually, when I pulled up, you said this was a good news/bad news thing. I’m guessing the artefacts are the good news. I’m still waiting for the bad.’

Jones turned and faced the Hummer. ‘Then follow me. There’s something you and Maria need to see before we leave Cancún.’

‘We’re leaving Cancún?’

He nodded. ‘The sooner, the better.’

As they walked, Payne briefed Jones on the surveillance video and everything else he’d learned at the security office. He also showed him a photo of the two Latin men who’d broken into the suite. Maria heard the tail end of the conversation, but was reluctant to ask any questions before she had a chance to clear the air with Payne. Then again, even if she had questioned him, it wouldn’t have bothered him in the least. During his military career, he’d crossed paths with many people he didn’t get along with, and it had never prevented him from doing his job. It was a skill he’d learned at the academy and mastered during Special Forces training. Instructors had taught him how to compartmentalize his feelings, allowing him to focus on the task at hand while blocking out everything else. Compared to the horrors he’d suppressed on the battlefield, his issues with Maria were easy to ignore.

Jones opened the driver-side door and reached between the seats. ‘As soon as I saw this in the trunk, I knew something bad was going on. I don’t know what, but
something
.’

Maria stared through the open hatch. ‘Saw what?’

The tarp, which had been rolled up from the rear of the vehicle to uncover the box of artefacts, had been stored behind the front seat. Payne and Maria had assumed it was wedged into an empty space, but was actually draped over a second, smaller box. Jones grabbed the middle of the tarp and yanked it into the front seat.

Payne, who was standing nearby, opened the rear driver’s-side door for a better view of the hidden crate. Painted army green and made out of thick plywood, it looked like a thousand other crates he’d seen in his former profession. Most of them filled with danger. As soon as he saw it, a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins. ‘What’s inside?’

Jones answered. ‘A little bit of everything.’

Payne leaned forward and opened the three front clasps. Then he tilted the lid back to see what they were dealing with. ‘Holy shit.’

Jones nodded. ‘My sentiments exactly.’

Known in Russia as an Avtomat Kalashnikova (or Kalash for short), the weapon is commonly called an AK-47 in other parts of the world. First developed in the Soviet Union during the 1940s, it’s a selective-fire, gas-operated 7.62 × 39 mm assault rifle with a killing range of more than 1,000 feet. Unlike the Mexican handgun stashed in Hamilton’s briefcase, the AK-47 is an offensive weapon, capable of doing serious damage.

Payne grabbed the top rifle and showed it to Maria, who gasped at the sight.

‘What’s that for?’ she asked.

‘It’s not for a Texas barbecue,’ Jones answered.

‘I know that,’ she stammered. ‘I mean, why does he have it?’

Payne gazed into the crate. ‘You mean
them
.’

‘Them?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘Two AKs, plenty of ammo, some plastic explosives, a few detonators and a set of binoculars.’

Jones corrected him. ‘Actually, they’re field glasses.’

‘Oh, in that case I feel
much
better about his box of weapons.’

‘Well, you should. They’re much more durable than binoculars. Believe it or not, field glasses have no internal prisms.’

Payne rolled his eyes. ‘Thank God for that! I’m sure all of us will sleep a little more soundly with that nugget tucked under our pillows. Hamilton was armed for war, but at least we know his field glasses will survive if we knock them off the nightstand.’

Maria ignored the sarcasm and focused on Jones. ‘But why does he have that stuff? He’s a scholar, not a soldier.’

‘I honestly don’t know. But it’s pretty obvious that he was keeping secrets from you.’

‘I guess he was.’

Payne returned the weapon to the crate, then walked towards them. ‘Now comes the hard part. You have to decide what you want to do about it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Do you want to wash your hands of the situation, or do you want to press forward?’

She answered without hesitation. ‘I want to press forward.’

‘Are you sure?’ Jones asked.

‘I’m absolutely positive. I need to know why I’m here. I need to know why someone trashed my suite and stole my passport. I need to know what happened to Hamilton. How can I ever feel safe without those answers?’

She took a deep breath, then flashed a weary smile. ‘Besides, I can’t go home even if I wanted to. I’m stuck in Mexico until I get a new passport.’

‘True,’ Jones said, ‘but that doesn’t mean you have to stay involved. We can call the authorities and let them handle things.’

She scoffed at the notion. ‘And what are they going to do? Impound the weapons, take the artefacts, maybe fill out some paperwork. Hamilton’s been gone less than a day, and there’s no hard evidence that he’s been abducted. The local cops won’t do a thing except get in our way.’

Payne stared at her. ‘You’re assuming that I want to stay involved.’

‘Why wouldn’t you?’

‘Why? Because I’ve never met the guy and he has a box of weapons. Where’s my incentive? I felt bad for Hamilton when I thought he was an innocent victim. But now it’s pretty obvious that he’s into something shady. For all I know, he might’ve had it coming.’

‘And what about me? Do I have it coming?’

‘How should I know? I haven’t talked to you in years.’

Sensing an argument, Jones quickly intervened. ‘Of course you don’t have it coming. You came here for a job and things went sour. It’s not your fault.’

‘Listen,’ she said, her voice much softer than a moment earlier, ‘I know I screwed up. I know I shouldn’t have come here without knowing all the details about the job before I left Italy. What can I say? I tried to be spontaneous for once in my life, and it kind of blew up in my face. Unfortunately, there’s no turning back now. I’m caught up in this mess – whatever it is – and I’m looking for a way out. Obviously, you guys know a lot more about these situations than I do, but I don’t think the police are the best way to go. I think we need to press forward. I think we need to find Hamilton so I can ask him about my involvement.’

Jones put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. ‘Don’t worry, Maria. Nothing’s going to happen to you. We won’t let it. Isn’t that right, Jon?’

Payne sighed and nodded slightly. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea, not with so many unknowns, but at least her rationale made sense.

Hamilton was the key to everything.

He possessed all the answers.

While Payne and Jones talked strategy, Maria glanced through the artefacts, hoping to find the document Hamilton had gone to retrieve at the time of his disappearance. Before he’d left the bistro, he had claimed that her role in the project would be ‘right up her alley’, but so far everything in the back of the Hummer was foreign to her. Although she could appreciate the intrinsic beauty of the statues and vases, she simply didn’t know enough about the Mayan culture to assess their value. Were they first century? Ninth century? Twelfth century?

Were they from the Yucatán or Belize?

Did the colours and patterns have any significance?

She honestly didn’t know.

To her, it was like trying to learn an ancient language without any kind of primer. If she was given several months and the proper tools, she could probably grasp the basics and reach some general conclusions about the artefacts. But considering the time constraints and her current location, she knew it was an impossible task. So much so that she didn’t take any of the items out of the plastic bags or bubble wrap to examine them. Why risk damaging them if there was nothing to gain?

About the only thing that made sense to her was a map of the region. She found it folded up and stuffed next to the centre console. Three places had been circled, all of them known for their Mayan ruins: Tulum, Cobá and Chichén Itzá. She didn’t know if Hamilton had been to the sites or hoped to visit them, but at least it was
something
.

Frustrated by her lack of success, she sat on the back bumper of the Hummer and tried to recall her conversation with Hamilton. She figured if she thought about it long enough, she might remember an important fact that had slipped her mind. Maybe a hint about his predicament, or a subtle clue about her role in things. Ultimately, that’s what bothered her the most – not knowing why she was there. Why, after being in the field for several weeks, had Hamilton picked up the phone and reached out to her? Why was he willing to fly her halfway round the world and put her up in a five-star hotel? What did she bring to the table that no one else could?

Maria rubbed her eyes in thought.

Despite her youth and inexperience, she had an impressive résumé that put most others to shame. While working with her professor, Dr Charles Boyd, they had discovered the Catacombs of Orvieto and revealed evidence that gave the academic world new insights into the life of Tiberius, the second emperor of Ancient Rome. When these discoveries were brought to light, she had been labelled a rising star in the academic community, someone who had done a great deal at a very young age. Coupled with her famous surname – her father had been Italy’s Minister of Antiquities at the time of his death – she was able to take her pick from jobs around the globe.

Instead of cashing in on her sudden fame, she had done the unexpected and returned to England, where she had worked on her thesis and earned her doctorate, all the while trying to run away from the guilt she felt at losing her brother and father in the same adventure that had made her famous. Between remorse, sorrow and all the other emotions that kept her up at night, she found herself avoiding society and all the amazing opportunities available to her. Subconsciously, she did it to punish herself for their deaths. It felt wrong to capitalize on a situation that had caused her family irreparable harm, even though she wasn’t personally to blame. Unfortunately, the mind is a tricky thing, and somewhere deep inside her conscience she was still struggling with the events that led to their demise.

Ironically, some of the same emotions she’d felt in Orvieto had resurfaced with Hamilton’s disappearance. After years of avoiding team projects, she had finally decided to get back in the game with a working vacation, but less than an hour after meeting and bonding with her new boss, her world was turned upside down once again.

He was missing.

She was in danger.

Yet somehow
she
felt responsible.

It didn’t matter that Hamilton had kept secrets from her about the project, his team and all the weapons he had in his Hummer. All she could focus on was the reason for his disappearance. In her mind, it all boiled down to one thing. If he hadn’t driven to Cancún to meet her, none of this would have happened. Hamilton would still be a free, and …

Wait a minute! That was it!

Hamilton had driven there to meet her.

She hopped off the back bumper of the H2 and rushed to the front passenger door. A few seconds later, she was digging through the glove compartment, looking for Hamilton’s rental agreement. Payne and Jones noticed her excitement and came over to investigate.

‘What are you looking for?’ Jones asked.

‘Hamilton’s paperwork.’

He reached into his cargo pocket. ‘I have it right here.’

‘May I see it?’ she asked.

‘Of course.’

She glanced at the paperwork. It was divided into two columns. Spanish on the left; English on the right. She was fluent in both, but felt far more comfortable with English, so she concentrated on the right-hand side. When she didn’t see what she was looking for, she flipped to page two, then to page three. Finally, towards the bottom of page four, she spotted the elusive piece of information. ‘No! That can’t be right.’

Payne stared at her. ‘What can’t be right?’