Miranda faced Maddock, one dubious eyebrow raised. “First you’re a SEAL. Now you’re some kind of government agent?”
Maddock shook his head. “It’s not like that. I’m just repaying a favor.”
“You just drop everything and run off to Mexico because you owed someone a favor?” Miranda persisted.
“More than one,” Bones added.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Screw you, Maddock.”
“We were in the neighborhood,” Maddock went on, flashing a guilty look in Angel’s direction. He was “in the neighborhood” on what was supposed to be a romantic vacation. Diving and treasure hunting wasn’t just his job. It was something he loved doing, but all the same, the whole point of the trip to Cozumel had been to spend some time with the woman he was going to marry. Angel had, only half-jokingly, suggested that on their way back to the resort, they could stop at the Union, a sports club in Playa del Carmen, so she could do a little sparring.
“I wasn’t,” Bones grumbled. “I was on my way to Vegas. Sin City, baby. Right now, I should be hip deep in cheap booze and cheaper… ” He glanced at Miranda. “Umm, buffets.”
“Anyway,” Maddock said, “we can help you out. As I told Dr. Bell, we’re experienced divers and marine archaeologists. We know what we’re doing, and we’re happy to help.” He paused a beat then added, “In whatever way we can.”
“What was that we just walked in on?” Bones asked. “A little trouble with the locals?”
Miranda evidently wasn’t satisfied with the explanation. “Why is the government so interested in what my father is doing?”
Maddock glanced over at Bell then shrugged. “You’ll have to ask your father about that. I wasn’t told much more than that. The person that sent us has her fingers in a lot pies, and seldom feels the need to explain herself.”
“Typical,” Miranda said.
It was an odd comment, but Maddock didn’t press the issue.
“Tam's a tough nut,” Bones put in. “But she's on the right side.”
“Right side of what?” Miranda countered.
Bones just shrugged.
Miranda frowned, then turned to Angel. “And are you just an archaeologist, too?”
“Not even,” Angel said, rolling her eyes. “I leave that to these two geniuses.”
“She’s a cage fighter,” Bones said with what might have been mistaken for brotherly pride. Maddock knew his big friend was just trying to impress the other woman.
Miranda however was anything but impressed. Her face darkened in anger or maybe embarrassment. “If you don't want to tell me, fine, but you don’t have to be an ass about it.”
“Actually, he's not,” Angel said. “I mean, he is, but in this case, he’s telling the truth.” She took a step forward, then reached out to cover Miranda’s hand with her own. “Though I prefer ‘mixed martial artist.’ ‘Cage fighter’ sounds kind of trashy.”
Miranda seemed a little startled by the gesture, but softened. “Seriously? You’re an MMA fighter? You any good?”
Angel grinned. “I hold my own.”
“I guess you don’t get punched in the face very often.”
“I try not to,” Angel said. “Don’t want to end up looking like this ogre.” She playfully punched Bones in the shoulder.
Sensing that Miranda was finally going to let down her guard a little, Maddock attempt to steer the conversation back to a more immediate topic. “Seriously though, who was the guy we just ran into? You having some trouble?”
Miranda turned to her father again with a questioning look.
Bell looked uncertain. “Just some hoodlums who thought we had found something important.”
“Did you?” Maddock pressed.
“We haven’t really had a chance to talk about that yet,” Miranda said. “Dad, there are bodies down there.”
Bell nodded. “The Maya would sometimes throw sacrificial victims into cenotes.”
“I thought they were called Mayans,” Angel said.
“That’s a common misconception,” Bell said. “The people, their architecture, and so forth are called Maya. Mayan is the language they spoke.”
Maddock nodded.
“Some of these bodies are a lot more recent,” Miranda said. “Maybe just a year or two old.”
“Maybe the local drug cartel is using it to dump bodies,” Bones suggested. “Could be that’s why someone wants to scare you off.”
Bell appeared crestfallen. “A pity. But I suppose that would explain why this cenote isn’t on the maps.” He paused a beat. “Gentleman, I thank you for coming out here, and interrupting your vacations, but it would appear that I was a bit premature with my expectations. We’ll have to turn this over to the authorities.”
Maddock caught the look of hesitation from Miranda. She bit her lip then spoke again. “Dad, I found something else down there. A gold plate about this big.” She held up her hands to indicate the diameter of the artifact she had left behind. “It was on a stone table… maybe it was an altar. I had to leave it behind, but I know exactly where it is.”
The cloud over Bell lifted. “Were there glyphs on it? Describe it.”
“I got video of it. But that’s not my point. We can’t tell the police about this place.”
“My God, you’re right.”
Maddock looked from father to daughter, then glanced over at Bones, who just nodded. Clearly, his friend was thinking the same thing he was. “Dr. Bell, before you do anything potentially illegal, you really need to tell us what exactly it is you’re looking for here.”
Bell pursed his lips together, then answered in a low voice that was almost a whisper. “Ciudad de Sombra.”
“What does that mean?” Angel asked.
Bones answered first, his tone almost giddy with anticipation. “It means ‘City of Shadow.’”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, but it sounds awesome.”
Maddock shook his head and looked back at the archaeologist. “Doesn’t ring a… um, I’m not familiar with it.”
Bell managed a smile. “Ciudad de Sombra guards the entrance to Xibalba.”
Bones’ grin broadened. “Told you.”
CHAPTER 5
Isabella Beltran looked up from the computer screen as the door to her office opened. She felt an immediate surge of anger. Her orders were explicit and not open to interpretation; when she was working, she was not to be disturbed for any reason. When she saw the face of the man who had dared to breach the sanctity of her workspace, her anger quieted to something more like irritation.
“What do you want, tio?”
Hector Canul strode forward until he was standing right in front of her desk, and stared down at her with his customary supercilious contempt. “We have a problem, Isabella.”
“I told you before. Your problems are not my problems.”
“This time, they are. An American archaeologist has found Cenote el Guia.”
“So?”
She immediately regretted her dismissive tone. Canul was the brother of her deceased father though the two men could not have been more unalike. Hector had the dark skin and broad flat features common to Mexico’s indigenous population, while Raul — and Isabella, herself — favored the Spanish blood in their mixed ancestry. Hector had immersed himself in his ethnic Maya heritage, while Isabella’s father had opted to carve out a place for himself in one of Mexico’s new dominant empires, the Gulf Cartel.
It was rare for the descendant of indigenous people to achieve any sort of stature within the drug cartels. The narcos typically saw the rural natives as a labor force to be enslaved but never respected, but Raul, perhaps because of his ambiguous physical appearance, had defied those expectations, rising through the ranks of the organization and even marrying the daughter of a senior cartel lieutenant. Yet, despite their differences, Raul had always been deferential to his brother’s religious and cultural beliefs, even permitting Hector to train Isabella in the traditions of their people.