Brian Sadler Archaeological Mysteries BoxSet

by Bill Thompson

  The group laughed as he turned the other direction and said, “Odette Adams. You were our communications link. Your messages were passed to critical people at critical times and it was crucial that we had your help. And you gave moral support to Sam. I know he thought of you often as he trudged up that mountain with us. Thank you.” Applause.

  “Sam Adams, I’ve known you since I was five years old. We grew up together and remained friends even when you moved far, far away and became a charter boat captain and hotel owner in paradise!” Laughter. “I thank you for being my friend and for being the person I could lean on in our expedition when I needed support. I thank you for going every step of the way with me. Many people thank you for the work you and Lucky did to retrieve the bodies of the people who died in the ancient city – Jack Borland, his three men and our comrade Juan. You and Lucky gave your time, selflessly leading a group of men back up to the top to bring the fallen down to their families for a proper burial. You’re the best and I will never forget it.” Applause.

  “Lynne Parker. Lynne Parker. The vixen of the jungle who will do anything to further her goals. What can I say?” Laughter, not terribly sincere from Nicole. “We had a few ups and downs but what counts is that we made it. We found what you knew in your heart was up there. You’ve come a long way in the six months since we found the Ancient Library. You’re now a full tenured professor at UCLA with a major discovery under your belt. And it was your discovery. Your knowledge kept us on track and your perseverance brought us to the previously unknown Maya city we found. It truly wouldn’t have happened without you even though you were on the wrong track for awhile. Now you’re going to be a TV personality as the narrator of the upcoming documentary. I salute you, Professor Parker!” Applause.

  There was an empty seat next to Lynne with a place setting in front of it. Gesturing to the chair, Brian said, “Ralph ‘Lucky’ Buncombe. Proprietor of the Jaguar’s Call on a remote mountain in Guatemala. I wish you were here tonight, Lucky, but you’re here in spirit. Thanks to you we found out what Jack Borland knew, we had food and water…a little rum and a little warm beer…” Laughter. “…and from your jumping off spot we made it five thousand more feet to the top. To a lost city. Thank you, Lucky, for being there for Lynne and for us.” Applause.

  He continued around the table. “Alfredo Rivera. The man who wanted nothing more than to show me a new cave he had found!” Laughter. “The man who never came back to rescue me, allowing me to learn that I was man enough to climb out of that damned hole by myself!” More laughter. “Alfredo, you were the strength on our expedition. You were the man who kept our workers on track and who toiled alongside them every step of the way. You were the man who had to leave one of your countrymen in a ruined building on a Mayan mountain. You are a man among men. Thank you for everything you did to make our expedition a success.” Applause.

  “Arthur Borland, stand up please.” Lord Borland pushed his chair back and stood, holding his hands in the air as if to ask why he was being singled out. “This man had perhaps the hardest role of all. A British Lord, a member of the aristocracy who took on another personality entirely to bring to justice one of the most dangerous men in the world. Without regard to the reputation and safety of himself or his family, Arthur created the fiction and assumed the character of a drug and gambling addict. I hope I don’t embarrass you – everyone who knows you has seen your chronic nervous condition – your shaking hands. But in your role as an addict that manifestation was a big help. You made a great addict but I’m really glad it was all an act.” Applause. “I’m not quite finished with Arthur but you may be seated, my Lord. After all, you’re considerably older than I am.” Laughter.

  “Your father Captain Jack Borland never wavered from his belief that there was a treasure to be found. He spent his life and his fortune seeking it and I choose to believe before he died he laid his eyes on what he sought – the codices of the ancient Maya. Jack Borland is an inspiration to us all. There’s a little bit of Captain Jack – a tiny bit of adventurer – in every human being. And he will be prominently featured in our television documentary – the ancient city is as much his discovery as it is ours. Tonight I salute your father, Captain Jack Borland, along with you.” A toast and applause.

  “Finally Lord Borland, thanks to your courage and your foresight in knowing exactly what might trap John Spedino, you singlehandedly brought him to justice. And for any of you who might have been lost in the jungle the last couple of months and missed the news, I’m pleased to say that the godfather was sentenced to life in prison not here in America, but in Guatemala. We’re optimistic that his money won’t buy him happiness there and the United States Government has promised to help keep an eye on his incarceration. If things begin to get too cushy they’ll attempt to seek extradition to bring him back here for more justice. Arthur, my sincerest gratitude goes to you. There is absolutely no telling where this would have gone without your courage and selfless service.” Loud applause.

  Two more empty chairs were next. “Those chairs represent Juan and Fernando, our two Belizean workers and our friends. Juan gave his life on our expedition and Fernando found his brother, a member of Captain Jack’s team who died with Jack. Fernando remained alone to guard our site until the authorities and Lynne could get back to work on cataloging everything. These two men were tireless workers and an integral part of our team. Juan will be missed by his family and by all of us as well. Fernando, although you are not here tonight we salute you and your brother!” A toast followed by applause.

  “Saving the best for last, as they say. Now I want to say a few words about Nicole Farber. Here’s a person who signed up for a little bit and ended up with a whole lot. Like Alfredo, she was along for the ride – a visit to an unexplored cave on the third day of our trip to Belize. She wasn’t going into the jungle with me. She was going to hang around at the hotel and have a little vacation then jet back here to Dallas to wait for my return. My prompt return.” Laughter.

  “And what happened instead? She was kidnapped, treated cruelly and inhumanely by a crazed man driven by the desire for gold. She escaped by herself…” enthusiastic applause. “…made it across the border with no papers and no passport, got back to Dallas and found herself in the clutches of the Godfather himself. Sadly, that was my fault. If Nicole had never met me she would never have met John Spedino.

  “So the Godfather threatens to blackmail her after drugging her. He appoints her his right-hand person, his consigliere, and what does Nicole do? She courageously goes straight to the FBI and volunteers to bring him down. Risking her stellar career at Carter and Wells, she talks to the senior partner at the firm and tells him everything. It turns out Spedino’s cast his web of crime around Randall Carter too. Impressed by Nicole’s action in the face of danger, he chooses the high road as well. Her boss goes to the IRS and provides proof that John Spedino is the secret owner of one of the largest mortgage brokers in the southwest, funneling millions of dollars a year in profits through a series of foreign corporations to avoid taxation. So now John Spedino has also been charged with income tax evasion but he can’t defend himself. He’s off enjoying the Federal penitentiary in Guatemala City! So that charge will have to wait until Spedino gets to come home, if that ever happens.

  “Nicole, my partner and my best friend, I salute you for your help. You may have done our country the greatest service it’s seen in awhile – the ridding of a festering maggot named John Spedino.” Everyone stood, applauding wildly.

  “In conclusion I thank you all for making the trip here…”

  Nicole stood. “One moment, Brian. We’ve omitted one person from the honors tonight.”

  “Really, sweetie? Who’s that?” Brian looked at her, genuinely puzzled.

  “You! Now sit down.” As he sat Nicole did too, gesturing to Odette.

  One by one the people at the table stood, paying their respects to a man who had faced danger, handled adversity admirably, fought for what was righ
t and survived an ordeal most people would hope to never face. Each of them told what Brian Sadler meant to them personally until at last it came back to Nicole.

  She stood and turned to face him. “Brian, you’ve stood by me personally through all this. You’ve proven your love for me in a way I hope I can prove to you over many more years together. In addition you’ve been part of an expedition that gave Central America and the world a new treasure, a previously lost city and the only collection of Maya codices in existence. The millions of dollars of value in gold pales in significance to the historic value of the books your group found.

  “To recognize your contribution, Randall Carter and I have pledged one million dollars each to build a new museum at Tikal, Guatemala’s most well known and most visited archaeological site. We have received approval from the government to house the codices there. A complete laboratory will be created to study and catalog the manuscripts and we’ll have an exhibition room displaying them, much as the Dead Sea Scrolls have been exhibited in the United States and Israel. Hundreds of the gold sheets you found will be displayed too and the government is considering an auction of others in the future to benefit archaeological efforts in Guatemala.

  “Lord Borland, I’m pleased to announce that the part of the building dedicated to the ancient city they discovered will be known as the Captain Jack Borland Hall. It will be a lasting tribute to him.” She turned back to Brian. “Brian, it’s my honor to name our new structure the Sadler Museum of the Maya.”

  Thunderous applause and a standing ovation. And for once, a speechless Brian Sadler.

  Epilogue

  Pavon Prison

  Fraijanes, Guatemala

  John Spedino sat in the room where he had lived for six months. As is the case in many third world jails, money could buy something close to happiness at Pavon Prison. Word and dollars traveled fast in the small town of Fraijanes near Guatemala City. It had taken less than six hours after his arrival for the godfather to be housed in a room that wasn’t created to be a cell at all but instead had been a guard station for one of the cellblocks. It was quite large by prison standards, almost eleven feet square, and Spedino’s money had bought a regular bed with mattress and box springs, a table and chair. He even had a lock on the door, this one on the inside where he was in control of it instead of the guards.

  The godfather had finally joined the technology of the twenty-first century. He had bought a cell phone rather than standing in line to use the pay telephone which worked only sporadically anyway. Rafael, the man who had served Spedino well in Guatemala, visited him every third day unless the godfather summoned him sooner for something specific. Rafael was such a regular by now that he was admitted with a wave and skipped the usual pat-down and frisking for contraband. After all, with the godfather’s money there was really no such thing as contraband while he was incarcerated at Pavon Prison.

  The United States Embassy kept a close eye on Spedino’s incarceration. They knew his dollars had bought him comfort but the officials were determined not to let him go free. Guatemala had insisted on keeping Spedino for itself. It was a major coup for a small country to have a high-ranking U.S. Mafia chieftain – the highest, in fact – and the Guatemalan government created a media heyday with the story.

  Thanks to the U.S. Embassy, extradition papers had been placed on file with the courts in the capital, to be activated in the event anything resulted in a potential release of the godfather. The United States Ambassador himself had had a quiet conversation with the Attorney General of Guatemala, stating in no uncertain terms that it would be considered a direct insult to the American government if Guatemala failed to keep this man imprisoned.

  The Attorney General stopped by Pavon Prison one morning on an unscheduled visit as he did from time to time when he had business in the area. Over coffee in the warden’s office he mentioned that he would like to see John Spedino so that he could report back to the United States Embassy that things were going well.

  The men passed through several checkpoints and lockdown facilities before they reached the area where Spedino was incarcerated. The warden walked to Spedino’s room and knocked on the door. There was no answer and when the Attorney General tried the knob he found the door was locked. A guard was called and the warden learned that no second key to this room existed. The guard took a few minutes to jimmy the lock with a small pick and the door was finally opened.

  John Spedino’s room was neat and tidy. The bed was made but there was no sign of the godfather.

  “Where is he?” the warden angrily asked the guard, who shrugged his shoulders. This was embarrassing, in front of the nation’s highest legal official.

  “You know that we do not control his movements within the prison,” the guard responded.

  The penitentiary was placed on lockdown. As the warden and the Attorney General waited in the administration area, the guards did a headcount. They were off by more than twenty inmates – a situation that apparently wasn’t that rare in this third-world prison environment. One of the men who was missing was the godfather, John Spedino. Upon being questioned none of the guards could recall having seen him for at least two weeks.

  The Strangest Thing

  A Brian Sadler Archaeological Mystery

  Book Three of the Series

  Dedication

  I want to mention three people who’ve accompanied me on trips to strange and unusual places.

  First there are my two sons, Jeff and Ryan Thompson. With them I have seen wonderful things – the Nazca lines, Sacsayhuaman and Machu Picchu in Peru and the marvels of Egypt.

  My good friend David Crocker was with us in Peru. Later I made another trip to Egypt and also to Petra with him and his family.

  And it was David who was with me the first time I saw the Temple of the Inscriptions at Palenque, the subject of The Strangest Thing.

  To these three companions in adventure

  I dedicate this book.

  “Have no fear of them

  for nothing is covered that will not be revealed,

  or hidden that will not be known.”

  Matthew 10:26

  Historical Prelude

  Palenque and the Tomb of King Pakal

  The ancient Mayan city of Palenque lies in a heavily forested area in the state of Chiapas, Mexico, close to the Guatemalan border. Fifteen hundred years ago the great Maya civilization stretched from east central Mexico southwards through what is now Guatemala, Belize and Honduras. Today the area around Palenque – in fact the entire state of Chiapas – has a certain wild-west flair. The state previously was part of Guatemala and seems so different from the rest of Mexico that many residents believe Chiapas should be that way again. Rebels wearing ski masks and toting automatic rifles are visible evidence of the support of these people for secession from Mexico. They run crude checkpoints along the highways of Chiapas, blocking the road with vehicles and even tanks they have “appropriated” from the Government. Although fearsome in appearance they pose no real threat to the tourists who make their ways to the old Mayan city.

  There is no Maya site about which more is known than Palenque. It was on the radar of explorers, raiders and archaeologists two hundred years ago. It is the archetypical lost city – hidden in the dense forest for a millennium before being located by pioneer exploration teams who marveled at its skyscraper temples. Never mind that these men thought Palenque had been built by Egyptians. Its grandeur and sheer size gave them little reason to believe the truth: it was built by the Mayan people. How an unsophisticated band of people in the jungles of Central America learned architecture, symmetry, the raising of multi-ton stones a hundred feet high – construction techniques that are difficult even today – has always been puzzling. They emerged from farming and warring to building hundreds of massive structures. These buildings were built over a thousand-mile area in what are now Honduras, Guatemala, Belize and Mexico. And they went from being farmers to becoming master architects in less than three gen
erations.

  How did they do this? Were they taught? If so, by whom? How and where did they get the knowledge to build these massive structures all over Central America?

  Even in today’s partially excavated state, the city of Palenque is reminiscent of the power and authority of its rulers. Significant inscriptions have been discovered that have aided scholars in understanding the Maya civilization. And the site itself is breathtaking – ancient skyscraper temples reach toward the heavens while tall mounds nearby promise more to come once funds and time to excavate become available. As university archaeological expeditions open buildings heretofore covered in trees and dirt, they find exciting new things. In the 1990s, for instance, the South Group of buildings was excavated, resulting in some impressive and spectacular discoveries including rare examples of Mayan writing.

  Mostly restored, the so-called Temple of the Inscriptions is considered one of the finest examples of Mayan architecture and Palenque’s most striking structure. It was built during the reign of King K’inich Janaab Pakal (Pakal the Great) who lived from 603 to 683 AD.

  In 1952 Alberto Ruz, the director of research at Mexico’s National Institute of Anthropology and History, discovered the answer to a question that had long puzzled archaeologists about the Temple of the Inscriptions. There were several holes drilled through a stone that lay in the middle of the temple’s top floor, many stories above the verdant jungle below. No one knew why the holes were there until Ruz and a team of men dug far below the floor and shined a light through a small hole his men had cut into the limestone below. He looked upon a room he described as a “vision from a fairy tale…a magic grotto…an abandoned chapel.” When he gazed downwards, he saw something that had not been seen by human eyes in over a thousand years – the magnificent carved lid of the sarcophagus of a person who had to have been a very important ruler. In fact, the immense Temple of the Inscriptions had been built over and around the tomb.