The Death Relic

by Chris Kuzneski

  Maria rubbed her eyes in thought.

  Despite her youth and inexperience, she had an impressive résumé that put most others to shame. While working with her professor, Dr Charles Boyd, they had discovered the Catacombs of Orvieto and revealed evidence that gave the academic world new insights into the life of Tiberius, the second emperor of Ancient Rome. When these discoveries were brought to light, she had been labelled a rising star in the academic community, someone who had done a great deal at a very young age. Coupled with her famous surname – her father had been Italy’s Minister of Antiquities at the time of his death – she was able to take her pick from jobs around the globe.

  Instead of cashing in on her sudden fame, she had done the unexpected and returned to England, where she had worked on her thesis and earned her doctorate, all the while trying to run away from the guilt she felt at losing her brother and father in the same adventure that had made her famous. Between remorse, sorrow and all the other emotions that kept her up at night, she found herself avoiding society and all the amazing opportunities available to her. Subconsciously, she did it to punish herself for their deaths. It felt wrong to capitalize on a situation that had caused her family irreparable harm, even though she wasn’t personally to blame. Unfortunately, the mind is a tricky thing, and somewhere deep inside her conscience she was still struggling with the events that led to their demise.

  Ironically, some of the same emotions she’d felt in Orvieto had resurfaced with Hamilton’s disappearance. After years of avoiding team projects, she had finally decided to get back in the game with a working vacation, but less than an hour after meeting and bonding with her new boss, her world was turned upside down once again.

  He was missing.

  She was in danger.

  Yet somehow she felt responsible.

  It didn’t matter that Hamilton had kept secrets from her about the project, his team and all the weapons he had in his Hummer. All she could focus on was the reason for his disappearance. In her mind, it all boiled down to one thing. If he hadn’t driven to Cancún to meet her, none of this would have happened. Hamilton would still be a free, and …

  Wait a minute! That was it!

  Hamilton had driven there to meet her.

  She hopped off the back bumper of the H2 and rushed to the front passenger door. A few seconds later, she was digging through the glove compartment, looking for Hamilton’s rental agreement. Payne and Jones noticed her excitement and came over to investigate.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ Jones asked.

  ‘Hamilton’s paperwork.’

  He reached into his cargo pocket. ‘I have it right here.’

  ‘May I see it?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  She glanced at the paperwork. It was divided into two columns. Spanish on the left; English on the right. She was fluent in both, but felt far more comfortable with English, so she concentrated on the right-hand side. When she didn’t see what she was looking for, she flipped to page two, then to page three. Finally, towards the bottom of page four, she spotted the elusive piece of information. ‘No! That can’t be right.’

  Payne stared at her. ‘What can’t be right?’

  ‘Cancún! How can it be Cancún?’

  ‘I have no idea. Then again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  She looked at him. ‘During my conversation with Hamilton, he said he’d driven to Cancún for our meeting. I asked him where he’d come from, and he was a bit vague. He told me his team was less than a hundred miles from here.’

  ‘Good to know.’

  ‘I was hoping this agreement would list the town where he rented the vehicle, and that would narrow our search even further. But he rented the vehicle here.’

  ‘In Cancún?’ Payne asked.

  ‘Yes! He rented it here.’

  Jones nodded his head. ‘I know.’

  ‘You know? How do you know?’ she demanded.

  ‘Because I looked at the agreement about an hour ago. I would have been happy to tell you if you had been a little nicer to me, but you were too busy being Nancy Drew for me to get a word in.’

  Payne glanced at him. ‘Was Nancy Drew mean? I don’t remember her being mean. Sexually frustrated, yes. Maybe even a lesbian. But definitely not mean.’

  Jones shook his head. ‘She wasn’t a lesbian. I can tell you that. I’m pretty sure she banged the Hardy Boys.’

  ‘Wait! The Hardy Boys weren’t gay? I thought they were married.’

  ‘No, they were brothers. Not husbands.’

  ‘I’ll be damned. All this time I thought they were gay.’

  Jones stroked his chin in thought. ‘Unless …’

  ‘Unless, what?’

  ‘Maybe they were lesbians.’

  She slammed the glove compartment shut. ‘OK! I get it. I was mean to both of you, and I should have told you what I was thinking instead of bossing you around. I promise I won’t let it happen again.’

  Jones ignored her tone and opted to move on. ‘Somehow I doubt that, but I’ll let it slide for now, if only to get back on task.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He continued. ‘So, while you were playing detective, did you happen to notice the date of the rental agreement?’

  She glanced at the paperwork. ‘No, why?’

  ‘He rented the vehicle a few weeks ago, which leads me to believe that he wasn’t lying to you. He probably did drive to Cancún for your meeting.’

  She spotted the date on the contract and nodded in relief. It was one thing to keep secrets from her. It was quite another if he’d been lying. ‘Good.’

  ‘Now all we have to do is figure out where his team is.’

  Payne spoke up. ‘A hundred miles is a reasonable distance to search, especially since we’re against the coast. That eliminates half of our search grid right away. No need to go east.’

  Jones nodded. ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Plus, I have Randy running down his financials. If he stopped to buy gas or supplies with a credit card, we’ll be able to narrow our focus even more.’

  ‘When will he call?’

  Payne shrugged. ‘Depends on the world. As long as nothing major happens in the next few hours, I’m sure we’ll hear from him today. If something comes up, who knows?’

  ‘Fuckin’ world. Always screwing things up!’

  ‘Don’t I know it.’

  She looked at them, concerned. ‘We aren’t going to wait, are we? I mean, can’t we start the search without Randy’s information?’

  Jones nodded. ‘We could, but we don’t know which direction to go in. And even if we did, we wouldn’t know what to look for since we don’t know anything about Hamilton’s team. Are they men, women, old, young, white, Hispanic? Heck, we don’t even have a headcount.’

  ‘That’s true,’ she said, ‘but we do have his car. He’s been driving around in this thing for a few weeks now. Maybe someone will recognize it.’

  Payne glanced at the vehicle. The H2 had a distinctive look. Much larger than most vehicles he had seen in Mexico, it also had extra-long running boards and a roof rack that was large enough to accommodate a steamer trunk. To handle the rugged terrain, the H2 was equipped with oversized tyres and a snorkel that allowed it to ford streams without drowning out the engine. Throw in the maroon colour and it was pretty much guaranteed to stand out to the locals, especially in the poorer villages that dotted the region. From his duties at Payne Industries, he knew the average income in Mexico was roughly a third of the income in America, which was why so many companies looked for workers south of the border. Less money meant fewer luxury purchases, so the odds were pretty good that there weren’t many new Hummers being driven around the Yucatán.

  He nodded. ‘She does have a point. This vehicle certainly stands out.’

  Jones considered their logic. Although he viewed it as a long shot, he liked the fact that Payne and Maria had agreed on something. In his mind, that was almost as important as f
inding a clue. ‘That’s fine with me. If you want to take a road trip, I’m willing to come along. Of course, we still need to pick a direction.’

  She held up the map of the region. ‘I found this wedged next to the driver’s seat. Three Mayan sites are circled on it. If we’re lucky, maybe Hamilton visited them. If we’re really lucky, maybe he talked to some of the experts at the sites.’

  Payne shrugged. ‘Couldn’t hurt to look – unless we’re talking about a ten-hour drive. My ass can’t handle that.’

  ‘No,’ she assured them, ‘all of them are close. Less than a hundred miles away.’

  ‘Works for me. Where are we headed first?’

  She tapped on the circle to the south. ‘We’re going to Tulum.’

  33

  Initially, Tiffany had some doubts about her assignment. She thought too much blood would have to be spilled to achieve their objective. Not that she minded violence. She actually enjoyed it in a way that few women did. It was one of the traits that made her special. Her girl-next-door looks and taste for blood made her perfect for undercover work. She could get to places most men couldn’t. And once she got there, she could finish the job on her own.

  Still, she was smart enough to realize that targeting Hector Garcia, one of the most powerful criminals in Mexico, was a dangerous game. The only way to survive was to make sure that nothing, absolutely nothing, could be traced back to her. She certainly couldn’t be caught, but she also needed to make sure she wasn’t seen by anyone in his organization. To pull that off, she brought in a crew of her own. Handpicked from previous missions, each of them had a specialty. If they did their jobs and did them well, there was no doubt in her mind that they could accomplish the impossible: they could make her disappear in the middle of an open plaza.

  Her crew had been in town for nearly a week. They had scouted the city, handled the kidnapping and guarded the children in a local safe house, while she took care of Hamilton in Cancún. She wasn’t used to dealing with so many issues at once, but she viewed this as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity she couldn’t pass up. If everything went according to plan, she would make more money in one job than she could ever make in a lifetime of regular jobs.

  It was why she was taking so many risks.

  To prepare the plaza for the ransom drop, members of her crew walked the periphery of the Zócalo. Every time they came across a garbage can – more than thirty were distributed throughout the square – they tossed in a plastic bottle filled with a special concoction. Controlled by a remote detonator and designed for maximum coverage in an urban environment, the bottles would ignite on cue. One of her men, an ex-soldier in the US military who specialized in explosives, had suggested the devices based on the flatness of the terrain and the atmospheric conditions in the city. Due to its location in a highland valley, cold air sinks down from the mountains, trapping smoke and pollution near the surface. As long as the wind didn’t pick up in the next hour or so, the entire plaza would be overwhelmed by the blasts.

  Obviously, this would be a huge advantage for Tiffany’s crew. With the push of a single button, they would be able to neutralize Hector’s entire army. It didn’t matter if he brought in snipers, or mercenaries, or hired the entire police force to lock down the area during the ransom drop. If they were in the plaza when the devices went off, they would be rendered useless.

  In the past sixty hours, Hector had fallen apart. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t focus on anything except his children. Overwhelmed by guilt and rage, he went through stretches of depression followed by bursts of anger. If he wasn’t brooding or cursing, he was breaking mirrors and lamps while threatening to kill anyone who tried to stop him.

  It got so bad that Angel, his second-in-command, ordered everyone from the house. That included Hector’s wife, Sofia. Fearing for her safety, she gladly left the scene for a few days of pampering at a local resort. Married for two years, she wanted to be there for Hector in his time of crisis, but not if it meant putting herself at risk. There was only so much she was willing to do for a life of luxury. As it was, she didn’t have a biological connection with the kids, so Angel thought it best if she disappeared for a while.

  Neither Hector nor Sofia argued with the decision.

  The kidnappers had been playing games with Hector for two and a half days. They had changed their demands more than once. At first, they had requested the medallion. Then it was the medallion plus a million dollars. Then it was the medallion and five million dollars. He figured that number would continue to climb higher and higher. After all, his organization raked in several million dollars a month. Anyone with the courage to abduct his children would have the guts to ask for more than five million dollars. Taking no chances, Hector and Angel pulled twenty million US dollars from their vaults and had it waiting at the mansion.

  To some, this would seem a staggering amount.

  To them, it was a few months’ revenue.

  In the kidnapping and drug game, large pallets of cash were exchanged so often that the latest generation of criminal had started to refer to money in terms of weight rather than value. In the United States and Mexico, American hundred-dollar bills were the denomination of choice. Hector knew that 10,000 hundred-dollar bills equalled a million dollars. He also knew that a million dollars weighed nearly 22 lbs. Five million dollars weighed nearly 110 lbs. With that much money, it was far easier to weigh it than to count it, so modern-day criminals might request 110 lbs of cash to complete a deal. Just to be safe, Hector had nearly 440 lbs of cash on hand.

  All of it in hundred-dollar bills.

  One hundred bills per stack, wrapped in paper bands.

  One hundred stacks per million, sealed in clear plastic.

  Twenty sealed million-dollar blocks, ready to be delivered.

  All he needed was a time, a place and an amount.

  Hector’s private line rang shortly after his wife had left the mansion. Thinking it was Sofia, he was ready to curse her for tying up his phone when he noticed the caller ID. The screen said, ‘Daniela Garcia (mobile)’. The call had been placed from his daughter’s phone. He used the speakerphone to answer so Angel could listen in.

  ‘Hello?’ Hector said.

  ‘Papá!’ Daniela cried in Spanish.

  ‘Baby, is that you? Are you all right?’

  ‘Papá! Please get me!’

  ‘I’m trying, baby. I’m trying.’

  Her mobile quickly changed hands. Suddenly her brother Antonio was on the line. It was the first time he’d been allowed to speak to Hector since the abduction.

  ‘Father!’ he wailed in Spanish. ‘Please pay them. Please!’

  ‘Antonio! My son! You’re alive!’

  ‘Yes, father. But please—’

  Hector heard a slight struggle on the other end of the line. Then silence.

  The next voice he heard was the kidnapper’s. It was digitally altered, as it had been in all the previous calls. Only this time he got straight to the point.

  ‘Both kids are alive. That’s your proof-of-life. There won’t be another until we make the exchange. I want the medallion and ten million dollars in cash. Do you have the money?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You have thirty minutes to get to the site. For every minute you’re late, I cut off an appendage. Might be a finger, might be an ear. If you love your kids, you won’t be late.’

  ‘Where?’

  He ignored the question. ‘Each kid will be wired with explosives. If I see anything that looks suspicious – and I mean anything – I’ll blow the little fuckers to smithereens.’

  ‘I swear to God, if you—’

  ‘What? You’ll do what? Now isn’t the time for threats. Now is the time to listen. I’m in charge and I’ll stay in charge until we make the exchange. Once I have the ransom and you have your kids, you can threaten me all you want. Until that moment, you need to do exactly what I say, or I’ll start cutting off limbs. Do you understand?’

  He
ctor clenched his jaw. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Yes! I understand.’

  The caller laughed. ‘Is Angel there?’

  Hector glanced at Angel, confused. ‘What?’

  ‘Is Angel Ramirez, your lieutenant, there with you?’

  Angel answered. ‘Yes, I am here.’

  ‘I figured as much. Hector had to trust someone; I thought it would be you. After all, I know how damaging it would be to your organization if word got out that Hector’s children had been kidnapped. He wouldn’t seem so powerful after something like that. Am I correct?’

  Angel reluctantly nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I also assume that a man in his position will want revenge.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And because of his distress, he’ll probably assign you with that task.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Do me a favour. Look at your phone. I sent you a gift.’

  As if by magic, Angel’s mobile vibrated in his pocket. He quickly pulled it out and stared at the screen. A picture file had been attached to a text message. To view the photo, he pushed a button on his phone. Suddenly, he was staring at a woman pushing a baby stroller through a local park. He gasped when he saw it. He quickly showed it to Hector, who started to curse.

  The caller laughed. ‘From your reaction, I’ll assume that we found the correct Ramirez woman. That is your wife, is it not?’

  Angel cursed loudly. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And your baby boy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Right now, they’re safe. Well, maybe not safe, but they are currently free. They’ll stay that way as long as this exchange goes smoothly. If not, we’ll scoop them up quicker than you can kill me. Am I clear?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good!’ the caller said. ‘Now be a good amigo and start loading the money into the back of Hector’s SUV. Oh, in case you were wondering, I know all about its custom features: the armour plating, the bulletproof glass and the fuel-tank safety system. I mention that in case you think it gives you some kind of tactical advantage. Trust me, it doesn’t.’