by Seeley James
Danny ran for a washcloth, wetted it, and ran back. Peng smiled at him as she accepted the cloth and wiped her blouse clean.
“This mean you not know?” Peng heard herself using someone else’s voice. As if she’d channeled some long dead warlord.
“Her name is Cherry Crocker,” Danny said. “She is descended from a nineteenth century railroad tycoon on her father’s side.”
Peng admired his cunning approach, to propose something to see if their adversary would correct them. It was almost impossible for some people to keep secrets. Especially when they could establish themselves as superior in knowledge by revealing it. She replied to Danny, “You think was old-fashion kidnapping? Have esteem Knight run low on cash?”
The Knight’s irritation rose. But he didn’t speak.
Fiona offered him the ice and towel again. This time he took it and held it to his face.
“After years of corruption and mismanagement under the Guardian, what else could it be?” Danny asked.
“You are fools.” The Knight tried to spit on her again.
Peng had learned to twist aside quickly. The spittle flew past her.
The Knight began chewing on something, his jaw working in circles. Inside his mouth, the tongue worked hard enough to see it pushing against his cheeks. Peng puzzled at this odd movement for a moment. Then realized what it was.
She could let him go on. The man certainly deserved his fate. One could reason that all the Knights deserved such a fate. But then, that was what separated the Brotherhood from the Knights. Caring about others.
“Open jaw!” She grabbed his head with one hand and his chin with the other. “Push towel over tongue!”
Danny didn’t understand but grabbed a spoon from the dining table and pushed it into the Knight’s mouth.
“Force mouth open!” Peng shouted as they struggled with the Knight.
Again, Danny complied without fully understanding. Then they saw the flash of something white inside the Knight’s cheek. Danny leveraged the spoon harder. The man gagged.
Peng shoved her fingers inside his mouth. Ignoring his attempts to bite her hand, she extracted the small object and held it up. As she suspected: a cyanide pill hidden in a false molar. An old trick among spies. And a demonstration of the Knights’ resolve.
“The world be sadder place without you energy.” She patted the Knight’s shoulder and stepped back and gestured to the door. “You free to go. Keep ice.”
CHAPTER 13
Mercury pointed at Professor Rafael Tum. I saw that look on your face, dawg. You thought the old man was hitting that shit. Admit it. Dude, you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking like that. Ol’ Rafael and Cherry were economizing cuz they’re family, that’s all. Cannot believe you and your filthy mind.
Keeping my eyes on the road, I said, You thought the same thing.
Mercury said, Did not. But it don’t matter. You gonna explain to him what you’re doing or you gonna let him worry like that?
I said, Isn’t he one of the meek? Since when do you care about them? You told me to leave them alone.
Mercury said, Yeah. Well. See. Seven-Death asked me to do him a solid and look out for the guy.
I said, You’re kidding, right?
Mercury said, I may owe some money to the Mayan gods. But, c’mon, dude. Just look at the man. He needs your help.
“I told you, I’ll get her back,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “I have methods.”
Rafael didn’t say anything. He sat in the back seat, his nose against the window of our little rental car.
“I don’t get it,” Jenny said. “Why did they take her?”
I had two theories, and neither were the kind of thing I wanted to discuss in front of her uncle.
It was late afternoon when we arrived back in El Remate. We all saw the well-dressed woman at the same time. A line of people snaked up to the back of a truck, where she was handing out bags of food. I said, “Is that Carlotta, the grumpy old lady from Hidalgo’s dig?”
Jenny said, “I think so.”
From the back seat, Rafael’s pained voice said, “She touched the Freedom Stone.”
We didn’t want to know what that meant, so we didn’t ask. We were modern, science-based people who didn’t believe in magic stones. A few minutes later, we pulled into the hotel parking lot. Cops still combed the grounds. We trudged through the open-air lobby and out to the restaurant. If there was a clue left, the cops had picked it over. Still, we looked. A cop lifted a spot of blood where I had leveled the Knight who’d tried to ambush me. The cop tucked it in an evidence bag.
We went to Rafael’s room, where we saw three cops inspecting every surface with tweezers and magnifying lenses. Rafael looked at me with an expectant gaze. As in, next idea?
Mercury nudged me. You thought you’d come back to the scene of the crime, find a clue to Mr. Baldy’s lair, and be on your way, huh, homie?
I said, That was one possibility.
Mercury said, And you ain’t got no other possibilities. You should tell the ol’ man you done run outta methods.
I said, But you’re going to help me, right?
Mercury said, Forty-eight hours ago, you promised to tell Jenny all about me. You spent most of the next day walking through a jungle and not one word about the Capitoline Triad, or the Dii Consentes, or the holy messenger of the whole damn pantheon. And now you ask for help? Go on now, she’s standing right there. Say something.
I faced Jenny. She looked up at me expectantly. I said, “Jenny, uh, you’re an atheist, right?”
She said, “That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”
I said, “Not at all. I just thought we could have a conversation about the mysteries of life sometime.”
“Now?” Her tone of voice sounded agitated.
Rafael gave me a curious once-over.
I said, “Well, sometimes there are circumstances … in which the reality we know is …”
Over her shoulder, I saw the tall, thin guy with long auburn hair gelled back. He hovered near the corner of a building, watching us from behind the broad leaves of a banana tree.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
I strode over to him at a speed that would make any retreat on his part awkward as hell. He looked behind him, then to the side, as if considering a duck-and-run. Out of options, he straightened and stepped onto the path.
“I’ve seen you and the Chinese lady all over the grounds today,” I said. I stuck out a hand. “Jacob Stearne.”
“Danny,” he said and shook.
“Did you see the guys who tried to jump us?”
“I saw one of them.” He hesitated a moment, then lifted his chin as if he thought of something. Like a new tactic. “And I know where he went.”
It took me all of two seconds to reconsider who the guy was and why he’d been hanging around. “You’re not with the Knights of Mithras.”
He took a long moment to gather up his response. “I am one of a small band who knows how dangerous and misguided the Knights are.”
“They kidnapped a friend of mine,” I said. “Would you mind telling me where they went?”
Danny’s gaze snapped to the police emerging from Rafael’s room. “Have you told them about the kidnapping?”
“No.”
He waited for me to elaborate. I stood still.
“Wise,” Danny said after a moment. “They are untrained for the ruthlessness of the Knights. Involving them would cost innocent lives. Come with me and I’ll show you where they went.”
I grabbed his arm as he turned to walk away. “Not happening. You tell me where they are, and I’ll take care of it.”
“Then we are at an impasse. I have trained for years in dealing with them.” His words didn’t match his posture.
I’d seen men prepare to face death. Everyone has a certain amount of fear. The seasoned veterans show it in the form of readiness. They check their gear, go over their role, look you in the eye t
o see if they can count on you. The untested new kids straight from Basic talk big but their eyes quiver. Danny was closer to boot camp than veteran, but he didn’t know it yet.
“You aren’t going with me,” I said in my master sergeant voice.
He took a deep breath. “We are allies. We each need the other. I will go with you. I’m not negotiating.”
Jenny and Rafael joined us for the last sentence. They looked at me. I explained the situation. For some bizarre reason, they agreed with Danny. Everyone wanted to go. As if taking on thirty-odd heavily armed killers was something in their wheelhouse. There ought to be a law against James Bond movies. Everyone thinks they can storm the castle and live to see the credits roll.
But Danny was my ticket to finding Mr. Baldy, the man who had executed fifteen civilians. Mr. Baldy was going to pay for his crimes.
I put my foot down. I’d take Danny and no one else, only because I didn’t know the guy well enough to care if he lived or died. He didn’t flinch at that. Rafael and Jenny would stay another night at the hotel. We would leave at zero-dark-thirty.
“What time is that, exactly?” Danny asked.
“It’s not an actual clock time. It’s any time I think their defenses will be at their lowest point.”
I kept him with me. If we were going to war together, I didn’t want to let him out of my sight. A text, a call, a hand signal would be enough to set a trap for me. Danny understood my concerns and didn’t complain.
When we got to our room, Jenny got enough separation from Danny to whisper. “You want me to keep an eye on the professor?”
“This guy could be leading me into a trap,” I said, nodding at Danny. “I don’t know who to trust. They could be working together. If anything looks funny back here, call me.”
She didn’t like her assignment, but she recognized the necessity of it. She said, “You do your thing and I’ll do mine. Balance.”
I didn’t know if that qualified for yin-yang or duality, or whatever, but I liked her line of thinking. I smiled. She smiled. We kissed quickly.
I unboxed the ammo I’d picked up at the hunting store next to the car rental in Flores. I reloaded my spent magazine and put the remaining box of bullets in my pocket. I attached my suppressor and checked the action. I had ten handheld Sabel Darts, each the size of a rifle bullet. The clever injectors deliver a non-lethal dose of inland Taipan snake venom that causes instant flaccid paralysis and a secondary dose of powerful sleep medication. Anyone stabbed with a dart is paralyzed long enough to fall asleep for several hours. On a night raid, they were the best weapon available. No gunshots, no cries in pain, just the quiet slump of a body falling asleep. I grabbed my Sabel Visor, promised Rafael I’d bring his niece back, and gave my girl another kiss.
Danny retrieved a pistol and a GPS unit from his room under my watchful eye. We got in my rental and he gave me directions. He’d tagged one of the Knights I’d knocked unconscious with a GPS tracker. Clever enough, but being a civilian version, the accuracy was only within twenty-five feet. That could get him killed. The units Sabel Security used were much more accurate, much smaller, and had exceptional battery life. But I didn’t have any—because I’d quit.
Mercury said, Another reason you should go back to Pia-Caesar-Sabel, yo.
I said, And get shoved out on a cold and lonely cliff again? No thank you.
Mercury said, Hey now, I take care of my homeboys. You saved everyone in Odessa. You got a medal in Paris. You made it out of Mumbai. Nothing bad happened in Spain. What do I gotta do to make you believe?
I tuned him out and concentrated on the driving. We were heading due north. Through Tikal and into Uaxactun. I was going back toward Hidalgo’s dig with a man I didn’t know from Apollo. I had a bad feeling about this.
CHAPTER 14
We drove the rental to the end of a farm road three miles northwest of Uaxactun, arriving just after 0200. The whole drive, Danny assured me he had mad skills. I listened and asked questions and tested his knowledge of certain situations. He had a good grasp of tactics and fighting. His bravado told me he was young and scared. Lots of quality training that had never faced a real threat. I admired his enthusiasm, it reminded me of the first day my boots hit the ground in a combat theater.
He gave me an overview of his band of merry men, the Brotherhood of Claritas. He said, “Ours is a simple cause, we quietly advocate for good.”
I said, “Hundred bucks says the other guys say the exact same thing.”
My snark earned me some side-eye from the boy. Then he continued with his story. I zoned out while he droned on about brightness and light. They considered themselves the defenders of freedom. The Brotherhood had liberated societies since the dawn of time. According to Danny, they’d kept the early Indus Valley and Egyptian societies democratic, but they’d been suffering setbacks lately. Authoritarians were gaining ground the world over. They had their sights set on freeing China next. Which was nice.
Mercury leaned to my ear from the back seat. It’s pronounced CLAIRE-it-toss, homie. Not Claw-REET-ass like some crackerjack town in California. They’ve been around since the beginning of civilization, always trying to help the meek. They thought they were helping the meek when they collapsed the Mesopotamia.
I said, Can I trust them?
Mercury said, Why would you trust people who want to help others? Talk about your basic losers.
I said, Trajan helped others. He’s considered the greatest emperor of all time. Under his reign, Rome’s borders extended farther out than ever before. And he was a great philanthropist. He instituted a social welfare program called Cura Annonae, after the goddess Annona. It provided basic income in the form of grain.
Mercury patted my head. Aw, ain’t that cute? You’ve been reading again. You forget who he took that grain from to give to the Romans.
I turned that one over in my head. It had to come from somewhere. Gaul? Hispania? Dalmatia? Taxing the poor to feed the rich. Guess it’s been going on for a long time.
Mercury said, Back to the question: can you trust a guy who claims he does good?
I trusted Danny as much as a stray dog. They’re both nice and in need of positive reinforcement, but I didn’t have time for house training.
Besides, for all I knew, Danny was leading me into a trap.
I parked the rental as far into the weeds as I could get it. While Danny checked his GPS in the passenger seat, I jabbed him with a Sabel Dart. He slumped in place. I let the seatback down for him because tall guys don’t do well cramped in small cars for hours on end. I’m nice like that.
I grabbed his GPS unit and headed into the trees.
A mile into the woods, I found a trail that led in the general direction of the Knight’s position. I circled the area by a quarter mile and found no guards. My second circle spiraled inwards by two hundred yards. This time, I came across four clearings with the distinct look of recent campers. There were holes where stakes once held tent lines. Smoothed soil where tent floors or sleeping bags once lay. A large number of people had cleared out. To a better spot a hundred yards away, or out of the region?
I moved on until I found one guy guarding the only trail leading to the center camp. A single sentry was light for a platoon as big as theirs.
On my third circle, I began to suspect a trap. What kind wasn’t clear. But the encampment wasn’t big enough for thirty men. There was one large unoccupied tent in the center and three others nearby. One of the tents had four horizontal heat-signatures. Presumably four Knights sleeping. Another had two. With one man on watch, that gave me a total of seven. They wouldn’t have twenty-five on patrol. The Toyota pickups that attacked us had carried fourteen. Something was off.
Stearne’s Law: Paranoia is the result of acute situational awareness. In my line of work, you know you’re doing things right when everyone is trying to kill you. But no one was trying to kill me yet. I checked the forest behind me. And to the left, then right. I checked the tree branches high above m
e. Nothing. Not even a monkey. Still, my skin itched as if there were someone about to jump me.
If it were a trap, it would have to be one hell of an elaborate one. They could’ve killed or captured me at the Flores airport. I was outnumbered and outgunned. But they left me standing there like it was an insult. Instead of taking me and torturing the location out of me, they took the least likely to know. Then I thought about it from their point. Cherry was also the most likely to crack under pressure. Anyone could look me up and know I’ve been trained to resist enhanced interrogation. Jenny had been a US Navy officer. Rafael Tum must’ve been a serious dude thirty years ago. He still had the kind of toughness I’d seen in SEALS. Not as tough as Rangers, but close.
Crawling back carefully to my starting point, I searched for the lone sentry at the head of the trail. He had left. I followed the heat in his footprints and decided he’d gone to patrol the area. As silent as I moved, there were so many bugs, birds, and animals in the jungle, he would’ve sensed a disturbance and gone to investigate. Which meant he was a professional. And he was on watch alone.
That also meant the camp was unguarded. I went back, doing another circle in case I missed something. Zig-zagging my way through the trees, I came to the side of the tent with two sleeping bodies. I crouched and listened. No whispered radio commands. No signs of people faking sleep. The two guys inside were snoring quietly in a syncopated rhythm. When you sleep, your heart rate and breathing slow. You can fake it for a while, but not five minutes. Which is how long I waited. There was no need to rush.
Being inside a tent was a vulnerable position. Only one way out. Which meant, if I went in, I would be committed. If it was a trap, I was done. If it wasn’t, then this camp was not where the Knights were holding Cherry. Maybe a decoy camp, which brought me back to thinking it was a trap. But not a good one. There was only one guy on watch and six more asleep. I scratched my head.
The fact that it didn’t add up didn’t reduce the danger. There was only one way to find out if they were holding Cherry in either tent.