Shrouded in Secrets

by Kim McMahill

  She dashed down the hall in the direction she had seen Diego disappear, peering into rooms until she spotted him talking to Hernando.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Diego, but I think I have stumbled onto something.”

  Diego excused himself and followed her back to the office where she had been working. Closing the door, she unfolded the map and showed him the two new dots and the line that passed through the Navajo Reservation and Necochea, Argentina.

  “The head we’re looking for must to be along this line. I hope Miguel de San Martin can help narrow the search grid down further, but I’d bet money the relic is hidden somewhere on this path. Of course, once moved from the original location, which is likely, the artifact could be anywhere.”

  Marjorie watched Diego study the map for several moments. She had discovered something else even more exciting, but hoped he would interpret the data in the same way, confirming the developing pattern.

  “Well?” she finally asked, unable to tolerate his silence no longer. “Do you see it?”

  “If we are thinking along a similar track, all roads eventually lead to Cusco, Peru.”

  “Exactly. I’m not sure what it means, but when we draw lines through the locations of each crystal’s origin, the first two sets intersect in Cusco. If we have uncovered a pattern, finding the rest will be a little easier. When I extend the points along the Asháninka village and the place in Mexico where Cash and Diane lost one, I would guess another relic will be located along this line, somewhere south of Cusco. And again, take a ruler through Bimini and Cusco, and you have a track to start another search, or at least the original locations of some of the museum artifacts were probably found along one of these axes.”

  She watched him patiently as he processed the new information. His brow furrowed in concentration, and he absently rubbed his chin. After several interminable minutes, he looked up and their eyes locked.

  “I must say I am impressed by how you are quickly piecing together a puzzle that has remained unsolved for thousands of years. Looking at the map, it is obvious you have stumbled on to something.”

  “I’m thinking the Mayan ancestors intentionally hid the sacred relics in a pattern so the artifacts could be located again one day, when humanity developed enough to recognize the clues. The distribution must be along some sort of ley lines—you know, hypothetical alignments of points of geographic interest believed to possess special mystical energy—or perhaps there is some type of astronomical alignment.”

  “Take a look at this,” Diego said as he nudged her to the side and pecked at the computer’s keyboard.

  Marjorie gasped as Diego pulled up an aerial photograph of the Nasca lines in Peru. A number of different depictions of objects resembling a hummingbird, spider, dog, fish, and a variety of geometric shapes appeared on the screen, but the image of long, straight lines radiating out from a mound nearly mirrored what she had created by connecting the dots of each crystal’s original location on a world map.

  “These renderings are believed to have been created by the Nasca Indians and are thought to have had something to do with religious pilgrimages, astronomical alignments, or maybe even with the ancient people’s irrigation system. No one knows for sure, but as a rule, the Nasca lines radiate out from some landscape feature like a hill. The ones you drew,” he said, while tapping the flattened map, “extend from somewhere in or near Cusco, and the expanse is simply mind-boggling.”

  Marjorie loved a good mystery, which was one of the reasons why she chose archeology as a profession. Her heartbeat increased as she stared at the computer screen and the map. They were close to some answer, but a few pieces remained elusive. Why were the relics hidden in such a complex pattern by ancient people? Why, now, would someone be willing to kill for the artifacts, and what were those killers planning to do once they retrieved all thirteen?

  “Let’s go find a hotel and get some food and rest. It has been a long and sad day. I checked in with Miguel, and he will meet us first thing in the morning at the Museo de Alta Montaña,” Diego said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Marjorie nodded and excused herself to go freshen up, while Diego took a digital photo of the map and emailed the image to his office. He called his assistant and confirmed that Interpol had intercepted no chatter concerning the stolen artifacts, and none of the crystals had shown up on the antiquities black-market, not that he had expected them to surface so soon after the thefts. Obviously, whoever sought the relics had much bigger plans than merely selling them to the highest bidder.

  When Marjorie re-entered the room, Diego couldn’t help but stare. Her face radiated from the excitement, and her fine, short blonde hair bounced as she hurried around, packing up their equipment and chattering about her new theory. He hated to dampen her enthusiasm, but as her mind focused on the mystery, his continued to hone in on all the killing and devastation surrounding the crystals.

  “Do not forget, we must proceed with extreme caution. Hernando put out an APB on Ahmed and his friend, and the Salta authorities are on the lookout for the black Land Rover. They had already heard about the explosion at the village, and as the closest large municipality, they are responsible for investigating. Hernando wasn’t pleased to learn we were the cause, but he appreciated the information I provided on what happened. Knowing who the culprits are, and what they are currently driving, will speed the process of locating them.”

  “I’m sorry. For a second, I allowed the horror to slip from my mind. Focusing on something positive provided a much needed respite,” she said as Ahmed’s face forced its way back into the forefront of her thoughts.

  “No, I am sorry you have to witness such evil and destruction, but I will not ask you to leave.”

  “Thank you,” she replied as she stood on tiptoe and briefly placed her lips to his. “Now, let’s get some food. I’m starving.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  September 28, 6:00 P.M.

  Navajo Nation, Arizona

  EARTH CRUMBLED BENEATH Gertrude’s hooves as she slid down the slope into the arroyo, but the surefooted mount didn’t lose its balance. They decided to make camp on the other side of the small gorge, and Cash, like the rest of their group, was more than ready to call it a night. Even old Gertrude seemed reluctant to continue on through the rough landscape and eyed the steep climb up the opposite slope with hesitation.

  “Here,” Benny said as they crested the far side of the wash and came to a relatively flat spot scoured by erosion and dotted with scrubby brush and large sandstone rocks.

  Grunts and groans resounded from the agents as they painfully dismounted and staggered to their feet, thankful to finally be on solid ground. Despite the varying degrees of discomfort, each member of the team quickly regrouped and set about making camp before dusk turned to dark.

  Olivia backtracked a ways into the gorge to locate a small spring, while Pete and Ian fumbled with the tents and the rest of the group tended to the stock. Diane unsaddled the mules as efficiently as if she had done the task a thousand times before, Benny unloaded the hay cubes from one of the heavily laden pack saddles to feed the animals, and Cash pounded stakes into the hard, rocky, sunbaked soil to picket the animals.

  After the mules were fed, watered, and secured, they made their way back to the campsite.

  “I take it Pete never served in the Boy Scouts,” Diane grumbled as she strode toward the scientist to help him finish setting up his tent.

  “Take it easy on him. Remember, he’s more comfortable in a lab than the great outdoors,” Cash urged.

  Diane grunted her acknowledgment. “What’s the problem, Nancy? Ian has already set up the other two and has started a fire.” She yanked the tent pole out of Pete’s hand.

  “I think I missed the constructing shelter lesson in CIA training,” he replied, ignoring Diane’s feminine nickname.

  Cash laughed as he watched Diane try to teach Pete how to set up a basic two-person tent. Patience wasn’t one of her assets, but he apprec
iated the attempt.

  “Poor guy. If the mules, snakes, and cactus don’t get Pete, I’m afraid your sister will,” Cash said as Olivia approached with a canvas pail dripping with water. He flinched as Diane took a swing at Pete with the rain flap, while he relieved Olivia of her load.

  “She’s not as foul tempered as she pretends. She’s just trying to disguise the fact that she has a very soft heart.”

  Cash had to disagree as he thought back to the many times Diane had boxed his ears for an innocent comment, spewed strings of profanity directed at Washburn, or initiated some cruel joke on the scientists, Pete included. But he had also glimpsed a few vulnerable moments, such as after her dog had died, or when she jumped to Olivia’s defense in Mexico when she thought Pete had said something negative about her beloved sister.

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Cash grabbed a bag of groceries and followed Olivia to the campfire.

  Benny, Olivia, and Cash diced and fried potatoes, grilled steaks, and boiled water as they listened to Diane berate Pete’s lack of camping skills.

  “Should someone rescue him?” Benny asked. “He could barely walk when he got off his mule, so I doubt Diane is making him feel any better.”

  “Are you kidding?” Cash replied. “This is Diane’s way of flirting.”

  The three cooks burst out laughing.

  “You’d better shut up, Cash, or you’re next,” Diane yelled.

  “Hmm, sounds like she’s coming on to you,” Olivia stated.

  “No. Where I’m concerned, I’m pretty sure she really does want to hurt me, especially after yesterday morning,” he replied, winking at Olivia.

  Ian joined the group and grabbed a tea bag. He dropped it into a cup and poured boiling water to the rim. “I think we have company,” he said, never taking his eyes off the steaming brew, keeping his voice low and even.

  Cash appreciated Benny and Olivia’s intuitive sense. Certainly they had heard Ian’s comment, yet they continued prepping for dinner as normal.

  “Maybe it’s time we break up Diane and Pete. We don’t need a brawl on our hands. Come on, Ian.” Cash strolled in the direction of the commotion with Ian at his heels.

  When they reached Pete and Diane, Cash instructed everyone to grab a corner of the nylon fabric. In a matter of minutes, the tent took shape and they stood shoulder to shoulder, eyeing the finished product.

  “What did you find out there?” Cash asked Ian as he cocked his head to examine the tent.

  “While gathering firewood, I heard a rock dislodge and tumble down into the arroyo. I figured the noise probably came from a startled animal, but when I investigated, I discovered boot prints in the dust. I didn’t follow the trail, since you guys didn’t know where I was, and the tracks entered a rocky area and disappeared anyway.”

  “Crap,” Cash snarled.

  They had removed the listening devices from Olivia’s house and he doubted his call to Langley before they left that morning, or the CIA’s message to Interpol, had been intercepted. Whoever pursued them had relied on a good old-fashioned low-tech tail that had gone undetected all day. With their six riding mules and two pack animals, they assuredly left a trail a blind man could follow. After removing the bugs, Cash hadn’t expected anyone to know their plans or location. He wondered if Zara stalked them through the deadly landscape, shuddered, then pushed the thought aside. She never would have made such a careless mistake as making a sound or leaving prints. When she wanted to be invisible, she disappeared, as proven by her ability to remain successfully dead for years, until running into Pete in the tunnels.

  Ian relayed what he had heard. He described the location of the tracks and where the prints had ended.

  “Everyone armed?” Cash asked as his three colleagues nodded, staring at the lopsided tent, trying to process the information passed on by Ian.

  “Ian and I will circle around and check things out. You two guard Olivia, Benny, and those mules. We don’t want to end up on foot, so everyone stay alert. We have no idea how much company to expect. We need to be discreet and look natural.”

  Diane took up an argument with Pete as they made their way toward the fire, where Olivia and Benny continued to prepare dinner, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

  “I gotta take a leak,” Ian said as he slapped Cash on the shoulder and headed off into the dark.

  Cash ducked into his tent and grabbed his night-vision goggles. He marveled at the ingenious and effective item. From a distance, they looked like regular glasses, but the small piece of technology gave him a serious advantage. A warm-blooded animal would stand out of the blackness like a green Christmas tree bulb.

  Back outside, he eased into the darkness and crept in the opposite direction as Ian. Cash slipped over the edge of the arroyo, took cover, and scanned the area. His glasses exposed several small rodents, but no humans. He continued to circle toward where he and Ian agreed to meet up, alternately crawling above the rim then descending just below the lip, scanning the blackness. By the time they rendezvoused, Cash hadn’t detected anything out of place.

  “Any sign?”

  “Nothing. I went back to where I had seen the tracks, and the impressions had been swept away. I swear I saw footprints and now there are definite brush marks.”

  Cash didn’t doubt Ian’s claim, or that someone tried to fix their mistake. He avoided working with outside agents as much as possible, but he had nothing personal against Ian and had no reason to question his competence. He just didn’t know what to make of the situation or what to do about it. Continuing on according to plan would lead Zara’s people right to another crystal, if they found one, but they didn’t have the luxury of going home and returning another day. Time was definitely not on their side.

  “Let’s get back to camp. Hopefully we haven’t tipped off whoever’s out here that we’re on to them, so we still have a chance to flush them out. I’ve got a plan, but we need to act normal, and I think we should take turns on lookout tonight,” Cash stated.

  Cash had just turned toward camp when three rapid gunshots rang out. He and Ian split up, crouched down, and ran. If they were under siege, coming in from opposite directions was smart, and he was relieved Ian obviously realized the same thing without needing to be told.

  At the edge of camp, with weapon in hand, Cash crept behind the nearest tent. He stole a glance around and saw no extra people, but heard Diane scolding Pete. He stayed still in the shadows for another moment, scanning the area with his goggles until he spotted Ian crouched behind a bush. Ian gave him a thumbs-up sign and strolled out.

  “What in the devil is going on?” Cash demanded.

  “Wyatt Earp, here, thought he heard someone messing with the stock and opened fire,” Diane spat.

  “Did he hit anything?” Ian asked.

  “I sure hope not,” Cash replied as the men left to try and calm the panicked mules.

  Diane and Olivia stayed close to the flames to keep an eye on the camp, cringing at the lengthy string of profanity coming from Cash. The shuffling sounds of the men moving the mules to the opposite side of the camp reached their ears, and after twenty minutes, the animals seemed to calm.

  “Well?” Diane demanded as Cash reached her side.

  “We have one less pack animal, and I’m sure Washburn will tan my hide when he gets the bill Benny sends him for his prized packer.”

  Diane slugged Pete, he shrugged, and Benny chuckled. Cash wanted to do a lot more than just hit Pete. He was relieved Benny didn’t seem too angry with them, and he suspected the chief was teasing him a little when he earlier lamented the loss of such a valuable animal. Cash didn’t know much about mules. His untrained opinion valued the packer near the end of its useful life, but he would make the CIA pay the old man whatever he wanted for the loss. To Cash, it wasn’t about the money, it was about having to own up to such a stupid mistake, especially after the catastrophe in Mexico.

  “So much for acting normal,” Ian stated while staring down into
his plate to keep from laughing. “You got a Plan B?”

  Cash mumbled something under his breath that everyone was happy not to have understood. Not only did Cash loathe having to fess up to the boss, but he hated looking like a bunch of bumbling idiots in front of Olivia, Benny, and after Ian returned to Vauxhall Cross, the entire British Secret Intelligence Service.

  “Is there anyway we can keep this incident on American soil?” Cash asked.

  Ian laughed. “Not bloody likely, but I might be persuaded to change the names to protect the guilty, for a large bribe, of course.”

  “Well, that’s more than I would do for you if the tables were turned,” Cash replied, struggling to keep the grin from his lips.

  As much as he hated to admit it, he respected Ian, and at the moment he would gladly swap MI6 straight across, Pete for Ian, but he doubted that would happen, so he’d have to put his anger aside and move on.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  September 29, 8:00 A.M.

  Salta, Argentina

  FOR THE SECOND night in a row, Marjorie hadn’t slept worth a darn. The negative emotions evoked by seeing Ahmed again, and her guilt over the villagers’ deaths, warred with the growing excitement of the emerging pattern in the relics’ dispersal—and the vision of Diego in bed in the room next door. Whatever the reason, there was no denying she was strung tight. Her mind whirled, her nerve-endings pulsed, and she was jumpier than a caffeine-addict after two days without coffee. Every time she heard a noise behind her, she had to fight the urge to dive under the table.

  Marjorie had been sitting in the hotel restaurant for over an hour when Diego entered and sat across from her, next to the window. The warm smile she had grown accustomed to was gone, his eyes narrowed and his lips set in a harsh expression.

  “You should not have left your room without me. It is not safe,” he said, taking a sip of the coffee the waitress placed in front of him, while studying Marjorie over the rim of his cup.