by Seeley James
It landed in the clearing. I trotted out to get it. I could hear the motors running after I shut them down. I double-checked. The motors were off. I looked up. A drone floated overhead. Not mine.
Damn.
I grabbed my drone and ran back for the cover of the trees. The Knights had similar hardware advantages. I could only hope they had the same problem with rain. Finding a thicket of palms, I drove myself in and pushed through the length of it until I couldn’t hear the drone anymore. I waited and listened.
Mercury had raised a good question: What did they have planned?
Which was a great question to ask of an omnipotent deity. I looked around. No Mercury. A fair-weather god if there ever was one.
It was now or never. Now that they found me this close, they could stumble on it as easily as follow me to it. A careful search by a full platoon would turn up a toothpick. Could I run in, run out, and stay ahead of them? Waiting would only bring their drone around again. The longer I waited, the worse my chances became.
Which left me one option.
CHAPTER 32
Pia Sabel clicked off her call and stretched out on the massage table, her earbud still in her ear. The masseuse adjusted the towel covering her butt and spread oil on her bare back. She contemplated deleting all the waiting emails and voicemails. It seemed like work never left her, even in remote Belize.
She turned her head to the side as Danny’s blonde friend climbed on the table next to her. She couldn’t remember the young woman’s name.
A call came in. Pia sent it to voicemail.
“Wow, you’re buff,” the blonde said. “I mean, I mean, big, uhm … tall. And muscular. Or, uh, strong. In a good way. Like Dafne Schippers. Or, I mean, Dafne Schippers is like—”
“Stop.”
“OK.” The girl blushed full red but exhaled, relieved to be pulled out of her downward spiral into awkwardness. The masseuse centered the towel over the blonde’s butt, then rubbed oil on her back.
“I apologize,” Pia said softly. “We were introduced, but I forgot your name.”
“Fiona. It’s OK. You met us all at once and you were focused on Jacob.”
“Nice to meet you, Fiona.” Pia glanced at the emails on her phone while she spoke. “I find your dedication to Ms. Gu’s cause admirable.”
“Isn’t Jacob engaged? Not that I’m insinuating anything about you being here and offering all the—”
“Yes, they’re engaged and no, I didn’t show up to break them up. I’m not romantically interested in Jacob. Or Jenny.”
Pia watched Fiona’s mouth open and close as words formed in her head but mercifully stopped before she voiced them. In Pia’s experience, people who were mired in awkward overtures wanted something from her but were afraid to ask.
Another call came in. Pia sent it to voicemail. Just more people wanting to sell her a company or two. She thought of her father and how he told her, You can’t give people help. It makes them feel diminished, inferior. If they aren’t bold enough to ask for your help, they’ll blame you for every failure. Give them space, let them explain what they need, then they’ll be invested in the outcome and work ten times harder to prove themselves.
Pia said, “Jacob is a good friend and recently I treated him badly. This trip is just to prove I’m there for him if he needs me.”
“You were never romantically—”
“No.” Pia regretted her sharp tone. “We’re like siblings. He’s the brother I never had. Why?”
“Danny and I were like that. But then, something sparked and we … well, we work well together. He means everything to me now.”
“I’ll stay clear.”
“Oh, that’s not what I meant at all.”
Pia smiled. Another call buzzed her phone. Fiona watched Pia’s hand. Pia sent the call to voicemail.
“Your phone never stops ringing,” Fiona said. “Are people always after you for something?”
“The curse and blessing of wealth is that everyone wants you to help them. Business deals, charities, personal problems. The blessing is that you’re offered tremendous opportunities to do great things. The curse is that some turn out to be complete frauds. The difficulty lies in deciding which is which.”
Fiona nodded. “How can you tell?”
“I listen to every proposal, make my best guess, and, if I like it, dive in. If it turns out badly, I’ll quit as soon as it becomes apparent and move on to the next opportunity. In time, the good deals outnumber the bad. The sad part is when people talk a lot but never get around to asking for what they need.”
Fiona nodded. She closed her eyes to savor the fingers working on her back.
“What do you need, Fiona?” Pia asked.
Fiona’s eyes blew open. “Oh, I don’t want any—”
“The spa had openings all day today, yet you chose this odd after-dinner time slot. Did Peng send you or did you choose it on your own?” Pia waited, but Fiona couldn’t find an answer. “The Brotherhood ran out of money in Chicago. You left a dozen of your Brothers in Guatemala for lack of funds. You’re planning the overthrow of a powerful leader, but you’re in Belize as a guest of a woman you’ve only read about. You need help. This is your chance, Fiona. Tell me what you need.”
Fiona choked. “I … I just wanted to ask if you knew what the Knights want. You know our plan. Do you know theirs?”
“If they were interested in my help, they would reach out to me. They haven’t.”
Fiona blinked several times, uncertainty covering her expression.
Miguel stepped into the massage room. He held up his phone. “Sorry to interrupt, Pia. There’s a guy who’s been trying to reach you all day. I vetted him. I think he has something that might interest you. If this is a good time, I’ll forward his call.”
Pia looked at Fiona and waited for her to say something.
The young woman’s face clouded. Fiona pulled her towel tight around her and got up. She said, “I’ll give you some privacy.”
Fiona fled as if a tiger were chasing her.
“For the lack of a skilled messenger, the revolution was lost.” Pia looked at Miguel. “Am I that intimidating?”
“Yes.”
“I tried to give her the floor.”
“You’ve been losing your patience lately. She wasn’t ready. Some people need more time.”
He was right. She felt that. She wanted to help everyone who needed it. But the pressure of people lining up to talk to her felt like a giant vise squeezing the life out of her.
Pia’s phone buzzed. She sent it to voicemail. “Time is a luxury I don’t have.”
Miguel shrugged.
“OK,” Pia said. “Forward the call, then ask Dhanpal to bring Peng in. I’d like to talk to her.”
“Peng and Rafael have been swapping revolutionary stories all day,” Miguel said.
“Are you implying a romantic entanglement?”
“At their age, more like nostalgic yarns of shared suffering.”
“Don’t underestimate their age,” Pia said.
Miguel smiled and transferred the call as he walked out.
Pia waited for it to buzz in her hand, then answered. “This is Pia Sabel.”
“Pia, Joe Griffith here. I don’t know if you remember me—”
“Of course I remember you.” Pia nestled into the face cradle as the masseuse worked her neck and scalp. “You brought my father several opportunities. We bought a non-lethal dart maker from you. Still one of our better investments. You sent nice flowers to his funeral. Why haven’t I heard from you since?”
She knew damn well why he, like so many others, hadn’t called in well over two years. No one in the business world had expected her to survive. How could a young woman, a soccer star, ever be as successful as her barrel-chested, hard-charging, deal-making, testosterone-fueled dad? A day after his death, there had been odds in Las Vegas as to when Sabel Industries would be dissolved. Not if, but when.
Pia listened while Griffith
made a few preparing-to-speak breathing noises. She felt a certain satisfaction in letting him sweat.
“I, uh,” he said, “haven’t had anything … your dad, God rest his soul, only wanted the best deals, I presumed you were the same. So I waited for the right opportunity.”
“I’m listening.”
“Right now, there is a tremendous opportunity for someone like you.” His voice picked up steam and confidence. “Assuming, of course, you care about the perilous future of civilization.”
“Spare me the dramatics, Joe.” Pia could almost read his mind. She knew he was thinking: What a bitch. She smiled.
“All over the world,” he continued, “law and order is under attack. Terrorists threaten our way of life, our business operations. Watch the news in any country and you see attacks on the channels of global commerce. But very soon, things will come to a head. Many of us have been working behind the scenes to ensure a stable and consistent future. And we need your help.”
“I’m flattered,” Pia said. “Who is ‘we’ and what help do you need?”
“I’m glad you’re interested. The details are something we should discuss in person. Are you free in the morning?”
“First, tell me about your threat.” She paused a beat before going on. “I sense you’re preparing to deny you intend to threaten me. Before you make that mistake, let me remind you of your last deal. When my father tried to negotiate the price for Sabel Darts, you threatened to expose a regrettable foreign transaction. Money laundering, some might have called it. I can hear you prepping that denial again. Let me assure you, Alan Sabel kept me in the loop in all his dealings. That’s how I stepped into his shoes without missing a beat. My father said a thousand times, ‘Make no enemies.’ For that reason, I don’t hold your previous dealings against you—heinous as they may have been. It simply informs me of how you do business. So, let’s save some time and get to the heart of the matter. Tell me about your threat.”
She heard him inhale, as she’d heard so many privileged alpha males do when cornered. She gave him time to process his situation.
“What makes you think it’s not the same threat as last time?”
“Dad kept the audio recording of your calls and meetings. Since you didn’t report him, that makes you an accessory to any crime that may have been committed. Since it happened on his watch, and I’ve amended all subsequent reporting, I’m clean. But these are all things you know.”
“Yesss. You are your father’s daughter.” He took a deep breath. “I know where Jacob Stearne is—twenty miles north of Uaxactun.”
Pia bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from screaming her angst. It was an odious threat. Jacob was in mortal danger. She couldn’t acknowledge that without losing leverage. “He left my employ last week.”
“But not your heart.”
This time she couldn’t help herself. She took a deep breath. “Where would you like to meet?”
“I’m in Washington now. As I said earlier, how about tomorrow morning?”
“I’m not in DC. How about London the day after? White’s in St. James?”
“The club the royals belong to? You can’t get in, it’s men only. Plus, they haven’t taken new members in decades.”
“They took one recently. And she wasn’t a man. Shall we say six tomorrow evening?”
“Uh. Yes. Done.”
They clicked off. Pia sensed someone standing opposite her masseuse. Leaning up on one elbow, she discovered Gu Peng.
“Your messenger is too young and inexperienced,” Pia said. “You should’ve come yourself.”
“Brotherhood not top-down like Sabel. Each Brother take her own initiative. Each person independent in thought, word, and deed.”
Pia sat up, wrapping the towel around her, dismissing the masseuse with a nod. “Then help her. What does Fiona want from me?”
“Young people impressed by big money. Maybe she want you fund Brotherhood.”
“And you? What do you want?”
“You have lot of light. Very strong.” Peng cupped Pia’s cheek in her palm. “Many color. Hard to read. All rich people come from same village, have same interest. Everything neat and orderly. Always under control. You never give up everything for love. People like Jenny and Jacob, they do anything for love.”
Pia considered arguing. She didn’t have the luxury of risking everything for love. One wrong move, the wrong post on social media, a bad choice of lovers, a confidence shared with the wrong person, could topple her company, leaving thousands unemployed. A burden she’d learned was lost on most people. Pia said, “OK, but what—”
“Nothing I want can be asked.” Peng waved her off and turned for the exit where she met Dhanpal stepping in. They danced left and right. She stopped and turned back to Pia. “I hear you talk. You go London. You see with your eye, hear with your ear, what Knight of Mithras want. Then, you tell Gu Peng what you do.”
“That’s not how I work. I listen to what people need, evaluate how I can help, and do what I can.”
“That is you?” Peng scoffed. “When my husband lay crushed beneath tank. When police take my daughter from my arms. Many people hold me, ask ‘what can I do?’ I cannot speak. My mind lost in pain. One man, I never know his name, he take me by shoulder, put me in car, drive me to river, lead me to boat, sail me to Vancouver. I alive today because he not ask. He not ‘evaluate’ how he can help.” Peng clenched her fists. “He act.”
The old woman pushed Dhanpal aside and disappeared.
The former SEAL raised a brow.
“Yes, yes. I’ll act.” Pia nodded as much to herself as Dhanpal. “But first, something’s come up.” She strode to the changing room, talking over her shoulder. “Get Danny and Fiona, all the Brothers. Jacob’s in a lot more trouble than he realized.”
CHAPTER 33
I ran at an angle to my destination, then turned and doubled back. No one followed me. And I’d given their drone the slip. Feeling a little more confident, I found the giant mound of Seven-Death’s temple. I jogged the steep side to the tree-covered top.
The large stone stood unmolested, still gripped by tree roots. I pulled on the tree and the stone tilted up, just as it had before. A hole darker than the night beckoned me inside. I looked around and listened. Nothing.
Mercury materialized next to me, scaring the living wits out of me. Yo, homie, you can’t close that thing behind you.
When my heart rate returned to normal, I said, Don’t sneak up on a guy like that. Why can’t I close it?
Mercury said, Cause you can’t open it from the inside.
Great.
Rain collected on the broad, flat temple mound and flooded into the secret opening. It spilled down the steep and narrow steps. I recalled how slick the stones were when they were dry. And I remembered the pit of liquid mercury at the bottom. One wrong move and I was face down in a pool of poison. Why was I doing this? Because my bride-to-be needed a cause to champion: Freeing China. A noble endeavor if there was one.
I started down, touching the walls on both sides to steady myself. The treads were too narrow, the risers too deep. A stream of rainwater swirled around my ankles like a mountain stream. Four steps down, my right foot slid out from under me. My butt hit a riser while my hands grabbed at the walls. A move like that lower down, where there were no walls, could be instant death.
Mercury said, Don’t forget the pile of bones you saw at the bottom, brutha. But don’t be worrying about that shit. Seven-Death is waiting for you. C’mon now.
I said, Is there an easier way in?
Mercury said, If there was, the Knights could use it to ambush you down there.
A good point that served as a confidence builder. As more rain cascaded down the stones, I resumed my downward march. Carefully planting each foot before I put weight on it, I took one tread at a time. The stairway turned at each corner of the pyramid temple. A wild river of rain threatened my footing on every step.
The supporting walls d
isappeared when I entered the main chamber. The cavern was the size of a cathedral with the stairs being suspended in the middle, no handrails, no side support. Nothing to hang on to. And a hundred-foot drop on both sides. Either you stayed on the straight and narrow by faith, or you fell off and died.
That’s when I heard men above me. The Knights had found the entrance.
Moving faster, I slid again. Both feet went out this time and my butt followed. Just before I fell to my death, I twisted my torso at the waist and grabbed hold of the stone steps with both hands. Scrambling to swing my feet back on the stairs, I nearly slid off the other side. Water splashed in my face. Voices echoed in the upper halls. A light flashed one turn above me in the previous hall.
Regaining my balance, I righted myself and waded down more stairs. I slipped again, this time in unison with one of the Knights far above me. I was getting used to the heart-stopping fear and clambered back into position quicker. I steadied my balance and focused. Like they taught me in Ranger School, you can always persevere if you want to. I moved carefully down the remaining steps and turned onto the landing as a strong light flickered into the chamber from above. They were anxious about the steps, keeping the light focused on where they were stepping. It helped them miss me.
But they caught sight of the lake of silver. They stared in awe as the lead man tried to determine what lay below. Being accompanied by gods the first time I’d seen it, I’d taken its other worldliness for granted. Seeing the Knight’s beam fixed on it now, I realized how it would appear both wondrous and alarming to someone expecting only dirt. Then his flashlight found the pile of human bones stacked neatly in the corner. Their awe turned to horror. Their voices rose in volume and pitch. They were a little freaked out.
The rainwater spilled off the staircase and into a channel that disappeared into the wall at the side of the lake. It was as if the ancient Maya wanted the steps to be slippery. They were a crafty bunch with sophisticated fountains, sewers, and drainage ditches. They knew what they were doing.