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She made a little explosion with her fingers. “He tried to go back to teaching, but the university revoked his tenure. They called the book an embarrassment. Didn’t want anything to do with him. And then, because it never rains, but it pours, he started having trouble breathing. COPD.” She shook her head. “Can you believe that? He’s not even a smoker. They say it was probably from years of breathing dust in the field. He’s early stage III, so it could be worse. The meds help and he doesn’t need to carry around an oxygen bottle yet, but he can’t dig and dive like he used to.”

“So why is he out here?” Angel asked. “Is it just about the money?”

Maddock was glad that Angel was there to ask the question. Miranda would probably have taken offense if he had asked it, but she seemed a lot more receptive to Angel.

“Not really. There are other ways to make money. I think what he really wants is a shot at redemption. Finding Ciudad de Sombre will be his legacy, but he can’t do it alone. That’s why I decided to take a leave of absence from my job and come help him.”

“What do you do?”

Now Miranda hesitated, frowning, her gaze flickering from Angel to Maddock. “Well, the answer I’m supposed to give you is that I do consulting work for an international tech development company.”

“You’re a spook,” Maddock said. “CIA?”

Miranda’s mouth twitched a little, but she offered neither confirmation nor denial.

“Well that explains why you’re so badass,” he said, hoping she took it as a compliment. It explained a lot more, like maybe why Tam Broderick — a senior operations officer with the Agency — had taken an interest in Bell’s activity.

Miranda now grinned, her gaze returning to Angel. “It’s just a job. I was always badass.”

Angel’s laughter was loud enough to prompt Bones to growl. “Stop yipping, you freaking coyote. People trying to sleep here.”

“I guess you really don’t need our help,” Maddock admitted.

Miranda surprised him with a genuine smile. “No, it’s cool. I’m glad you guys are here.”

CHAPTER 10

The night proved uneventful, as did the two-hour drive into the Yucatan interior to the ancient Maya city of Chichén Itzá, located just a couple miles off the main highway on a cramped two-lane road which they shared with buses bringing tourists from Cancún. The ruins weren’t visible from the road, which came to a dead end at a parking lot where crowds of visitors in hats and sunglasses and reeking of sunscreen were lined up and waiting for the site to open. Bell led them away from the groups and onto the grounds of a nearby resort hotel.

“Tony’s main office is in Piste, a couple miles from here, but he keeps a suite here so he can be close to the site,” Bell explained.

“Isn’t there a museum or something?” Maddock said.

“Yes, but Tony’s not directly involved with that. It’s more of a gift shop anyway. Chichén Itzá is the second-most visited archaeological site in Mexico. Unfortunately, all these visitors touching the ruins and chipping off pieces of masonry for souvenirs have taken a toll, so the government is doing what it can to limit the impact. Most of the monuments are roped off. You can look but you can’t touch.”

“So no sightseeing?” Bones asked, sounding a little disappointed.

“I guess you’re welcome to join the horde,” Bell said with a forced smile. “But expect to be disappointed.”

Bones shrugged. “We’re here. Might as well check it off the list.” He turned to Miranda. “How about it? Up for a walk?”

Maddock braced himself for the expected shoot-down, but Miranda surprised him by glancing over at Angel. “I’m up for it if the rest of you guys are.”

Maddock shook his head. “We should probably stick together and keep a low profile, at least until we’ve got what we came here for.”

“If Tony can help me make sense of the guidestone,” Bell said, “you’ll have a chance to see ruins that aren’t on the tour route.”

“Not yet anyway,” Angel remarked.

Bell asked the receptionist at the front desk to ring Griego’s suite, and after a short but enthusiastic exchange, they were shown to the anthropologist’s room. Antonio Griego was a stocky man with salt-and-pepper hair and neatly trimmed beard. His naturally olive complexion was burnished to a deep bronze by hours spent under the Yucatan sun. Like many archaeologists Maddock had met, he looked more salt-of-the-earth than ivory-tower-academic-elite.

“Charles,” he boomed in English. “You should have let me know you were coming.”

“It was a spur of the moment thing,” Bell explained before making introductions. Then he got to the point. “We came across some interesting inscriptions yesterday, and frankly, I’m a little stuck. Have you got a few minutes to take a look?”

“Something tells me that if you’re stuck, this will take longer than a few minutes, but let’s have a look and see.”

Bell opened his laptop computer and showed Griego pictures, not only of the guidestone — as Bell had taken to calling the golden disk — but also several still images of the stone altar in the cenote, taken from Miranda’s GoPro and Maddock’s phone. The guidestone itself was safely tucked away in Maddock’s daypack.

Griego flipped through them quickly, giving them only a cursory examination. “Interesting. Where did you find these?”

“I’m not quite ready to reveal that yet, but when I am, you’ll be the first to know.”

Griego chuckled. “I’m sure you wouldn’t dream of breaking any of our laws, but I don’t need to tell you that context is important when translating. Since you’re not willing to share, I’ll assume this is from a virgin site. Underwater, if I’m not mistaken. A cenote?”

Bell nodded.

“Here in the Yucatan?”

This time, Bell just gave a coy smile, which Griego answered with one of his own. “Well, this is a remarkable find. A written account of the journey to the Underworld from the Classical period. You probably already figured that much out.”

“Yes. It’s similar to the story of the Hero Twins, but there are differences.” Bell leaned over the computer and clicked forward to a shot of the guidestone. “And it’s obviously a much older version. This is where I’m getting stuck. I have an idea what some of the symbols mean, but there are variations with which I'm unfamiliar. More important, I don't know how they fit together. This disk tells a story, but I can't read the final chapter.”

Griego leaned forward, until his face was just a few inches from the screen, and began scrutinizing the image. He spent several minutes like this, unmoving except for his eyes which were moving back and forth. Finally, he straightened. “I can see why you’ve hit a wall,” he said, his tone evincing defeat.

Bell sagged a little, his disappointment palpable. If Griego was stumped, the search for the City of Shadow was over before it had begun. Bell extended a finger to one of the glyphs. “I know that’s the symbol that indicates the cenote that is the entrance to the Underworld, but it feels like something is missing.”

Griego’s eyebrows came together, then rose as if inspiration had struck. “Maybe not.” He stood up abruptly. “There’s something you should see. Come with me. Bring your computer along.”

Maddock and Bones exchanged a glance. Griego seemed trustworthy enough, but looks could be deceiving. Bell however, hurried after his colleague, leaving the rest of them with no alternative but to follow along. The Mexican archaeologist took them to a garage behind the main hotel building and gestured to a row of four-seat electric golf carts. “The resort lets me use these to access the site. We won’t all fit in one though.”

Bones spoke up almost before Griego had finished speaking. “I got this.” He slid into the driver’s seat of the second cart. “Ladies, your chariot awaits. Miranda, you want shotgun?”