He turned to Mark. “You, Señor Archaeologist, have made an incredible discovery. It’s a pity you won’t be able to take credit for the wonderful things you found here in this cavern. I agree completely with you that this is the Crypt of the Ancients. Once someone interprets the metal plates, I’m certain we will begin to learn the secrets of Atlantis, because in my mind there’s nothing else this could be. Someone else will discover all this once I decide it’s time. It will be my discovery, my glory. And now you may join your friend. Bon voyage to hell.” He fired and Mark collapsed.
Paco ducked through the doorway into the cavern. Five guards stood waiting for instructions.
“Close the door.”
It took the combined efforts of all six to push the stone into place. At last it was wedged tightly back where it had originally been. They walked out, leaving two bodies behind the sealed wall.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
As soon as the door began to slide back into the wall, Paul turned on his flashlight. Except for its narrow beam, the room was totally dark.
“Mark! Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I got a whack in my chest, but I’m good. I don’t know what the hell happened. I thought you were dead and he missed me. I tried to lie still, hoping he wouldn’t shoot me again. So how are we alive?”
“I loaded his gun with blanks. You were closer than I was, so you got a thump when he shot you. I’m glad you decided to play dead. If you hadn’t, he’d have killed us with our own guns.”
“How the hell did you manage the blanks?”
Paul had been cautious from the minute he learned the ministry was sending someone. When Paco arrived and Paul noticed the weapon he carried, he placed an order for blanks. A couple of days later the shells arrived in a crate of supplies on the daily floatplane.
“I was simply being careful with a guy we didn’t know from Adam. One afternoon when he was taking a shower, I loaded his pistol with blanks. It was so long ago I’d almost forgotten it. When we all got to be friends, I thought about telling him, but I decided to let it go. It wouldn’t hurt for just you and me to have the real ammo.”
“Thank God for that. So what do we do now? How do we get out of here? The two of us can’t possibly move the door.”
“Let’s talk this through, but first let me show you something that might ease your mind a little.” He walked to the back of the room where several duffel bags were tossed into a pile. He picked one out at random. “Take a look,” he said. “We have enough food and water for several days. Extra batteries and flashlights too, plus sleeping bags.”
“My God,” the archaeologist marveled. “You’re like a magician! How in hell…”
“That stack of duffels has been back there all along. They’re full of our tools and instruments. I added provisions several weeks ago in case anybody got hurt or stranded by a cave-in or something. Remember my mentioning that if you ever got stuck in here, don’t forget the packs? I even mentioned it to Paco. I guess he doesn’t think we’ll need rations since he’s killed us.”
“I’d forgotten all about that. Looks like you thought of everything.”
“Maybe not. Our biggest challenge is getting through that stone door. There’s no way we can do it from this side. It’d take the winch for two of us to move it.”
“The longboat will bring everyone back tomorrow night from town, right?”
“That’s the plan. But what about Paco and the security guards? They’re obviously working for him – right?”
“Yes, but I don’t know what they’re going to do next. I guess they’ll leave – there’s a plane picking him up at four, and it can hold all six of them. If our men return and see no one here, I think they’d pull the stone out with the winch to see what happened in this room.”
“And if Paco doesn’t leave?”
“That makes things more complicated. There are twenty of our guys and only six of Paco’s. But our men are unarmed and they won’t be prepared for an ambush, so Paco could overpower them. But then…” Paul paused, thinking through his comments.
“But if he kills them, he’s got bodies all over the place. Too many people know there’s something going on here. All the workmen will talk to their friends and families this weekend. They’ll tell them what we’ve found. So Paco can’t kill them and he can’t take them hostage. What else can he do?”
Paul didn’t mention a thought he’d had. There was something Paco could do that would effectively doom them. That one thing would be the worst scenario possible. And that was exactly what Paco had in mind.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
On Sunday afternoon at two p.m., twenty men waited on the boat dock at Frontera Corozal, happy and comfortable after a weekend relaxing in town. Some had spent quality time with their families, others had hit the bars all night long, and some regaled their friends with stories of the wondrous discovery at Piedras Negras. Everyone was energized from a weekend off as they waited to return to the site.
They saw Paco walking down the concrete staircase from the parking lot high above. They were surprised he was there; he’d said he was going back to Guatemala City yesterday, his work at Piedras Negras over.
“I have some bad news,” he said as the men gathered around him. “The Minister of Archaeology in Guatemala City has withdrawn the concession for Dr. Linebarger’s company. Apparently there were some improprieties involving Mr. Silver’s background that were not properly disclosed when the concession was issued. So you won’t be going back to Piedras Negras today. Or ever again, for that matter. The site will be closed for some time until the minister can make other arrangements. Security guards will remain there to patrol the area.”
The men began to talk among themselves. This was distressing news; they had made more money in the past three months than they would usually get in two years. Mesoamerican Research Group had paid the workers well.
“What about us?” one asked with concern.
“The minister has taken care of you. He was afraid the Americans might not pay everyone, so the concession requires that all workmen would receive three months’ pay if they are fired through no reason of their own. There is money set aside to pay you.”
Some of the men clapped at the news. “Three months’ pay!” one said. “What work will we be doing to earn that money?”
“Nothing. It is called severance. It’s money you will receive because you were fired from your job. The day after tomorrow I will be here with the funds to pay you in cash.”
The entire story was a fabrication. The minister hadn’t cancelled the concession. There was no severance clause nor any money set aside to pay the workmen. Paco would come here the day after tomorrow and pay the men three months’ wages from the ransom money he’d gotten from his brother’s account.
The workers would be happy that they’d been fairly treated by the minister, and they would wonder what the Americans had done to cause their concession to be cancelled. But they would not go back to Piedras Negras. There was no reason. They would move on to other work, other things, other places.
Paco’s statement about the presence of security guards was true. Within two weeks he’d post sentries until he decided when and how to disclose the Crypt of the Ancients to the world. As for himself, he planned to spend the next several weeks at a luxury resort in Cabo; he’d had enough of the jungle in the past three months to last a lifetime.
Paco Garcia paid the workers and then boarded a floatplane to Tuxtla Gutierrez, where he caught an Aeromexico flight to Guatemala City. He met with the minister and handed him an envelope that bought another year of looking the other way. No one from the government would set foot in Piedras Negras until Paco Garcia said yes.
——
Paul and Mark explored every square inch of the Crypt of the Ancients and realized there was no other way out. They were stuck until someone removed the rock door from the other side. Without a winch, there was no way it could be done from where they stood.
As Pau
l walked the perimeter of the room, deep in thought, Mark reflected that he’d rather be trapped with this ingenious man than anyone else he knew. If someone could come up with a way out, Paul could.
Mark was an archaeologist, accustomed to dealing in facts, not hopeful speculation. He could see no solution for them. The fact was they were trapped unless someone opened the rock door. Tomorrow was Sunday, the day the workers were supposed to return from town. If that happened – if Paco hadn’t scuttled those plans – they had a chance. The next twenty-four hours would give them freedom – or not.
How ironic, he thought, that his entire life had been spent in scientific pursuits and archaeological discoveries. He dealt in facts, logic and pragmatism, but today he faced a new reality. He stood in a room full of complex scientific instruments undoubtedly created by a highly-advanced culture thousands of years ago.
How about that for scientific logic?
Paul spoke at last. “There are two things we should do. We should try to move the shelves that hold all the metal plates. Maybe there’s a tunnel or another room behind one of them. We also need to see what all these instruments do.” He swept his hand around the room. “We have nothing to lose even if something goes wrong.”
Mark reluctantly agreed but cautioned Paul about the devices. “What if we cause, say, a nuclear detonation using one of these things? There’s no telling how sophisticated they are or what they’re supposed to do.”
“You have a point, but I say it’s a chance we have to take. Let’s look at the walls first. Maybe we won’t need to try out the devices.”
They removed dozens of metal plates from the nearest shelf, carefully stacking them on the dirt floor nearby. Each unit was basically a bookcase with eight perfectly rectangular horizontal shelves. They examined this one closely – there were no visible seams, pegs or nails to indicate how it was put together. It looked like one solid unit, and they had no idea what it was made of. It wasn’t wood or metal. It might have been a type of lightweight stone or even an artificial material. Paul used the word “man-made” and Mark laughed. “I guess these were men. They were far, far more advanced than we are. I can almost believe they came from space before I can accept there was a civilization this advanced whose technology just disappeared in a cataclysmic event. But here we are!”
The back of the case was solidly up against the rock wall and they couldn’t move it. Perhaps it was attached, Paul mused, but it also could have been so heavy it wouldn’t budge.
There was a short crowbar in one of Paul’s duffels. They stuck it behind the case as best they could, then attempted to pry. No matter how much effort they gave it, the case didn’t shift an inch.
They went to the other side and tried the last bookcase on that end, with exactly the same results. They called it quits for today, ate a little food, rolled out the sleeping bags, and turned off the flashlights to conserve batteries.
After a night of dreams about being caught in a trap, Mark woke and checked the luminous dial of his watch. Six o’clock on Sunday morning. Today was the day they’d learn if anyone was coming for them. He was apprehensive.
This morning they agreed to examine the thirteen complex machines. Given that these were unique, maybe the rarest things on Earth, Mark was reluctant to handle them. But now there was no alternative.
Paul took out a pad and pen to record what happened with each device they tested. He would shoot a picture of each with his phone.
“I’m glad you’re optimistic,” Mark commented when he saw Paul preparing to take notes. “I hope we’ll need those later. Right now what we need to find is a levitation machine.”
He picked up the nearest instrument, a foot-long metal wand an inch in diameter. “It’d be nice to aim this thing at that rock door and say the magic words that make the stone slide out all by itself.”
On another stand Paul saw a smooth white cylinder that looked like a piece of PVC pipe. It was nearly two feet long and sealed seamlessly on both ends. There was only one protrusion on its entire surface – a small round knob.
Mark said, “We’d better do these one at a time since we have no idea what’s going to happen.” Paul put the cylinder back and Mark went first. He ran his hands over the smooth surface of the wand. There were no buttons to push, so he put both hands on it and turned them in opposite directions. A bright green beam shot out of one end. As he rotated the wand more, the beam got wider.
“It looks like a laser!” Paul yelled. “I can’t believe it! We might have our solution in the very first try.”
Mark took the device to the rock door and began to run its light along the seam. Nothing happened; the beam merely reflected off the rock surface.
“That didn’t work,” Mark commented as he swung the beam around the room. It hit one of the packs.
“Watch out! Look at that!”
Where the beam had hit the cloth rucksack, the material simply disappeared. It looked similar to a welding torch burning metal, but it was totally different. Where the beam hit, there was a blank space – no scorching, no searing – just an empty place where something had been before.
Mark turned off the beam. “Let’s try an experiment.” He took an empty can from last night’s dinner, widened the beam and aimed it at the can sitting on the floor. The light engulfed the entire thing and it was gone in an instant.
“So what’s the purpose of this thing?” Paul wondered out loud as Mark fiddled with the device, turned off the beam, and then worked his hands along the shaft of the wand in the opposite direction from before.
“What the …!” He jumped as another beam appeared from the wand’s tip, this one bright red. He aimed the wand into a corner, turned its shaft, and watched as the empty can appeared along with the missing part of the rucksack.
“I’ll be damned,” Paul said. “It’s a kind of teleportation device. Let’s test it on the rock.”
“The beam’s not big enough to cover the rock. Besides, it didn’t seem to work on the rock earlier anyway.”
“Can we try? What do we have to lose, except our lives?”
Mark brought up the green beam on its widest setting and shone it directly on the lower corner of the huge stone. Nothing happened. He reset the wand to the red beam and aimed it at another corner. Nothing.
Disappointed, he muttered, “It doesn’t work on rock. Wonder if it works on people?”
“I thought of that too,” Paul replied. “Problem is, it doesn’t look like it goes through rock. Presuming it didn’t kill us, all we could do is move ourselves around this cavern. That doesn’t get us out of here.”
Despite that, Paul was heartened that one of the devices actually worked after who knew how many years in this cave. He made notes about the instrument and said, “There may be something else we can do with that one. Let’s try the next.”
The PVC-like cylinder sat on its pedestal. Paul slowly turned the knob on its side, but nothing happened. He picked it up, aimed it at the ceiling and tried again. Nothing.
“Maybe it’s a dud,” Mark said, walking to the third pedestal. He picked up something familiar – a two-foot-high candelabrum with a base and seven arms. There were no obvious buttons or knobs, so he ran his hands over every inch of its surface. He twisted and turned, but once again this device didn’t respond.
“We’re going to get a lot of that, I’ll bet,” Paul commented. “We’re using today’s mentality on how things turn on and off, applying that to these machines. Maybe it takes mental telepathy. We may have to think to make them turn on. All we can do is keep trying. At least we have one that works.”
Lunch was quick because they had rationed food and water from the beginning. The supplies they had might last several days – maybe even a week or more – but they were already careful. They had no idea how much time they’d be locked in this cavern.
They examined the eighth instrument and recorded their findings – or lack of findings, to be precise. The first device was the only one so far that had d
one anything.
Paul moved on to the next machine, a rectangular box about two feet high and four feet long that resembled a cigar humidor. Its top was inlaid with something like glass. They peered inside and saw perplexing dials and gears.
“Looks like my grandmother’s music box,” Mark joked.
“It’s incredibly intricate,” Paul commented. “This music box must play the theme from Star Wars!”
Where they’d had no knobs before, this thing had a dozen of them, arranged across the bottom of the front panel. Paul turned one, then another. “Wish we had the operator’s manual,” he said idly. He jumped back as a wide shaft of light suddenly appeared through the glass top. It projected a pure white TV-like screen on the ceiling.
Mark suggested turning more dials. “Maybe you have to choose a channel.”
The last dial made audible clicks as Paul turned it slowly. The screen didn’t change at first, but as Paul kept turning, it began to glow with an azure hue. Mark moved toward the shaft of light coming out of the lid, and Paul grabbed him. “What are you doing?”
“I was going to put my hand in the shaft and see if it reflected on the screen up there,” he replied, pointing to the ceiling.
“Before we practice on ourselves, let’s see what that shaft does to something else.” He took out a wooden pencil and stuck the end of it into the bright light.
The tip of the pencil disintegrated instantly and a faint burning smell hung in the air.
“Shit! I could have burned my hand off,” Mark shouted. “Thanks for stopping me!”
Paul was deep in thought. “So what’s this for? Is it a transmitter? Or a receiver? Is it like a television or a video recorder? And why is the beam so hot that it burned the pencil in a second?”
“Look!” Mark stared at the ceiling.
There was a faint, grainy picture that reminded Mark of old 35mm movies shown on a projector. They could make out what might be trees, but everything was dim and distorted.
The Crypt Trilogy Bundle Page 45