“Why did you hide? What were you afraid of?”
Rodrigo’s earlier wariness returned. “Who are you? You aren’t from here. Why do you want to know about this?”
Hector leaned closer. “I buy things, Rodrigo. Expensive things that men like you find in the jungle. You know what I’m talking about, I think.”
Rodrigo looked like he had just gone stone-cold sober. “No. I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
“Maybe I can help you.” Hector placed a hand flat on the bar. Protruding from beneath it was the corner of a banknote — Honduran lempira—marked with the number 1,000. “Tell me about el Cadejo.”
Rodrigo eyed the money suspiciously. At the current exchange rate, it was worth almost nine hundred pesos, or about forty American dollars, which would keep Rodrigo in guaro for a while. “I don’t know anything about that.”
Hector pulled his hand back, sliding the note out of the other man’s reach.
“Diego found it,” Rodrigo blurted. “A little jade figure of a dog, covered in black dust. That’s what he said. I never saw it. Everyone who did… ” He shook his head. “The curse.”
Hector withdrew his hand but he allowed the 1,000 lempira note to remain where it was on the bar. Rodrigo’s hand snaked out and snatched it as if afraid that it might evaporate.
Hector produced another banknote, displaying it in similar fashion to the first. “Where did Diego find this black dog?”
“I don’t know. We are… we were competitors. I know where he might have hidden it, but… ” He shook his head.
“But what?”
Rodrigo eyed the second bill. “You don’t have enough money to make me ever go near that thing.”
“Are you certain? I have a great deal of money, friend.”
Rodrigo shook his head, but it was an uncertain gesture.
Hector left the second bill on the bar in front of Rodrigo. He downed his drink in a gulp and slammed the glass down on the bar, laying another currency note atop the empty. “Think it over,” he said, patting Rodrigo on the shoulder. “I’ll be around, but not for long.”
He exited the cantina without looking back, pausing once more at the door to shade his eyes from the relative brightness outside. The rain clouds were finally burning off, and now the air was thick with humidity.
He wasn’t looking forward at all to what he would have to do next.
Rodrigo was another dead end. The man was too terrified of the curse — and rightly so — to be enticed by dreams of avarice. No, there was only one way to find the artifact the superstitious Hondurans had taken to calling el Cadejo Negro, and end the curse before it could spread to the outside world.
As he stood there outside the cantina, a big SUV rolled past. The vehicle was the same make and model as the one he had almost rented in San Pedro Sula, and much too expensive to belong to a local. As it drove past, he got a look at the occupants.
Gringos.
He watched the vehicle until it turned at an intersection and disappeared from view, and then continued on his way.
The helicopter was waiting for them when they reached the airfield.
“Red Cross,” Miranda observed, noting the aircraft’s white exterior and the distinctive emblem of the international relief agency on the fuselage. “Typical.”
Maddock considered asking her to explain the remark, but remembered the woman’s earlier revelation about working in the intelligence community. She was probably accustomed to using non-governmental organizations as cover for operations in far-flung corners of the planet.
He didn’t know if the aircraft — an Airbus H135—was actually from the Red Cross’s fleet or had simply been painted to look that way, but the pilot who got out to greet them was most definitely not a part of that organization.
“Well look what cat puked up,” Bones said, grinning. “Does Dear Leader know you borrowed the helicopter?”
Kasey Kim, Korean by heritage but in every other way a 100 % Southern California girl, shot Bones the bird, then turned to Maddock, acknowledging him with a nod. “Heard you needed a lift.”
“You heard right,” Maddock replied. “Got room for five plus our gear?”
Kasey gave the rest of the group a quick visual inspection. It might have been Maddock’s imagination, but he thought he detected a look of recognition when her gaze fell on Miranda. He wondered if the two had crossed paths at some point in the past.
Kasey was an operations officer with the Central Intelligence Agency, assigned to Tam Broderick’s special task force — codenamed: Myrmidons. Maddock and Bones had briefly worked in an official capacity with the Myrmidons and continued to trade favors with Tam, which usually proved mutually beneficial. The fact that Kasey had been able to reach the rural airport only a few hours after Maddock’s call told him that Tam was more interested in Bell’s research than she was letting on.
He wondered what else he wasn’t being told.
But if Kasey and Miranda did know each other, neither felt the need to acknowledge it openly.
“Depends on what kind of gear you’re talking about,” Kasey finally said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Weight’s an issue. We might have to leave Bones behind.”
Bones gave a forced and abrupt laugh, and then glared at her with feigned indignation.
“SCUBA stuff and some climbing equipment,” Maddock said. “Tents and sleeping bags.”
“Guns?”
“Just two machetes.”
“Wow. You’re a couple of real Boy Scouts.” Kasey shrugged. “Yeah, all right. Shouldn’t be a problem. And I might be able to help you in the firepower department. Same destination you gave Tam?”
“Yes.”
“Where exactly are we going?” Miranda asked. “You never told us.”
“Guatemala. Up north near the border with Mexico in the rain forest.”
“I said ‘exactly,’” Miranda said through clenched teeth. “You can’t expect us to just follow blindly.”
“Miranda,” Bell snapped. “They’re helping us.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to just meekly… ”
“It’s okay,” Maddock said, quickly, trying to head off an argument. “It’s really in the middle of nowhere, but I can give you the GPS coordinates.”
He took out his phone and brought up the text message Jimmy Letson had sent with the exact coordinates that were the most likely location of the City of Shadow. He thought the mere appearance of cooperation might be enough to mollify her, but Miranda was intent on getting the precise location. She took out her own phone and began meticulously entering the coordinates as he read them off.
Kasey began tapping her fingers against her biceps impatiently. “Can we get this show on the road? I’d like to be in and out before dark.”
Without waiting for an answer, she headed back to the helicopter, climbed in.
“You heard her,” Maddock said as the aircraft’s twin Turbomeca Arrius 2B2 turboshaft engines began spinning up. “All aboard.”
He jogged back to the rear of the SUV to collect their gear. Bones joined him.
“You don’t trust her?” he said, speaking in a low whisper.
“Short answer, no. But I don’t distrust her, either. Let’s just say I’m being extra cautious.”
Bones gave a nod of approval.
Ten minutes later, they were in the air, cruising at 130 knots above the lush green landscape below.
“Welcome to Guatemala,” Kasey announced a few minutes later, her clipped California up-talk accent coming through loud and clear over the headsets they all wore. “We’re cleared for a flyover only. I’ll be able to touch down for a few minutes for a hot unload, but then I’ll have to leave you and head on to Belize City to refuel. I’ll be back to pick you up in twelve hours, but you’ll probably want to keep a low profile and avoid interacting with the local authorities.”