He debated, then clicked the phone open.
“Jake?”
It took a minute to place the voice. “Rodriguez?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“This isn’t a great time.” Jake rubbed the stubble on his cheek.
“I know, Kelly told me you were in the middle of an operation. I just—”
“You talked to Kelly? When?” Jake had already tried her phone twice that morning. It still went straight to voice mail.
“Not long ago,” Rodriguez said evasively. “That’s why I’m calling….”
As Rodriguez explained, Jake’s fists clenched. He couldn’t believe that Kelly would do something so stupid, not after what she’d been through this past year, what she’d put them both through. He flashed back on her expression the last time he saw her. He should have recognized that look she got when focused on a case.
“Where is she now?” he interrupted, the chair bobbling a few times as he stood.
Kelly slowly opened her eyes. It took a minute to remember what had happened.
She was in an enormous cave. It was cathedral-like, the ceiling soaring a hundred feet above her head. Thick candles were set at intervals around the space, their flickering marking a cadence along the walls. The murals here were astonishing, gloriously rendered images of mythical creatures with gaping mouths and intertwined limbs.
Stefan was nowhere in sight.
Kelly tried to sit upright, then dropped back down with a gasp. Her head pounded as if it were still being hammered against the wall. She rolled onto her side and squeezed her eyes shut, choking back bile as she willed the pain to subside. After a few deep breaths, the throbbing abated slightly. Still, her vision swam.
She realized with a sinking sensation that her hands were bound behind her. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm the familiar flutter in her chest marking the onset of a panic attack. Kelly concentrated on her breathing. After a few minutes, the sensation dissipated.
All right, she thought. I’m probably going to die down here. But maybe there’s still a way to take him with me.
She rolled back over to scan the room. It felt like rope bindings; she might be able to burn them off. A candle flickered about ten feet away. Gathering herself, Kelly rolled. The action induced a wave of nausea. Ignoring it, she rolled again.
“Oh good, you’re awake. For a moment I thought I’d killed you.”
Kelly froze. Stefan was ducking out of a low tunnel on the far side of the room—probably the one leading to the river.
“You must be cold,” he continued. He rustled through a pile of things in the corner: Kelly made out tools, tarps, sundry other items. With an exclamation, he drew out a ratty wool blanket. Crossing to her, he draped it over her.
Kelly considered shrugging it off, but the truth was she was still freezing. And it provided her with cover as she tried to loosen her bonds. “What is this place?”
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Hands on his hips, he gazed around proudly, as if he were personally responsible. “You should feel honored. Only the highest priests were granted access to this chamber. You and I are the first to have seen it in nearly five hundred years.”
Kelly followed his eyes—she had to admit, it was impressive. The murals here were pristine, probably nearly as bright as the day they were painted. “How did you find it?”
“It took some time, I’ll admit.” Stefan settled down on his haunches. “I have to say, Agent Jones, seeing you again took me by surprise. But after thinking it over, I think it’s oddly appropriate you turned up. Don’t you?”
“More like bad luck.”
“That’s right, I keep forgetting you lack in faith.” Stefan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Don’t you think this surpasses any sort of coincidence, the two of us meeting up here, under such similar circumstances, years later? Once again underground, by the water.”
“I was following up a lead claiming you were still alive,” Kelly scoffed. “It wasn’t exactly magic.”
“Ah—” he held up a finger “—but then your gun failed on you. Was that a coincidence, too? Or divine intervention?”
“More likely cheap ammo,” she said. “The gun dealer wasn’t exactly reputable.”
“And you found me here.”
“You left your book back at the dump.”
“Still, impressive.” He eyed her. “How did you manage to penetrate the outer chamber, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“C4.” She took some pleasure in the expression of horror on his face. “How did you do it?”
“There was a switch located behind the eyes. It merely required sticking the appropriate instrument through the holes.” He appeared disappointed. “And you think I’m a monster. Those murals were nearly a thousand years old. Granted, it took me months to uncover the secret, but still. No need to resort to such extreme measures.”
“How did you even know the tunnel was there?”
“Same as you, I’m guessing. The wind told me.” He winked at her. “I researched the Templo Mayor extensively. Legends claimed it was constructed on top of caves filled with primordial water, home to Huitzilopochtli, the ancient god of fire who occupied the center of the earth. I realized that if the Aztecs knew about those caves, there might be remnants of their civilization down here.” He pointed to the murals surrounding them. “Don’t you see? It’s all outlined here, the exact steps to take.”
“What are you planning?” Kelly asked. She couldn’t make out anything in the murals but a slew of random images.
“I initially came here out of necessity,” Stefan said thoughtfully. “Driven by you, of course. But then I stumbled across the most wonderful book, a book that proved I was meant to be here all along.”
“So you decided to skin a child?”
“Everything has a reason and a purpose, Agent Jones. I came to realize that the rituals I was seeking were much older than anything in the Raudhskinni. And it’s not the easiest thing in the world to skin someone. I needed practice, to do it correctly when the time came.”
“You’re insane,” Kelly said. “None of those rituals accomplish anything. You’re just looking for excuses to murder people.”
“Again, that’s your lack of faith talking.” He shrugged. “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
“What’s the ritual supposed to accomplish?”
“There’s more than one, of course. The gods don’t just hand out immortality.”
Kelly’s head throbbed. In a tired voice she said, “Think it through, Stefan. If those rituals actually endowed immortality, wouldn’t the Aztecs still be running things?”
“There are examples in the book,” he said excitedly. “Native tribes in the mountains that shun modern society. Some members are rumored to be a thousand years old.” His eyes glinted. “Many of them have red hair. Descendants of Quetzalcoatl, God of the Aztec and Olmec people. He arrived from across the sea and taught them to raise corn and build structures. That’s why they called him Quetzalcoatl, you see. It means ‘the culture bringer.’ This is where our cultures intersected. And that is why my arrival here was more than mere coincidence. I will complete the rituals, then join them. Together we will raise civilization from the ashes.”
Kelly opened her mouth to argue with him, then realized it was pointless. It was like trying to reason with a child. At least he didn’t seem to have another victim down here. Unless she was about to fill that role. “So are you planning on skinning me?”
“Oh, no.” Stefan barked a laugh. “You wouldn’t be appropriate at all. You’re far too old for that ritual, and I’m guessing probably not a virgin, either, eh?”
Kelly didn’t reply.
“I will kill you, eventually. But your skin is safe for the moment.”
Kelly dreaded his response to the next question, but forced herself to ask, “Do you have another victim?”
“You provided an unfortunate interruption of my original plans.” Stefan glanced at a large watch on his wrist. “T
he specific time, date and location of the rituals are critical for success. So I’m afraid we’re going to have to wait a bit.”
“Sorry, there’s someplace I’ve got to be,” Kelly said.
Stefan laughed again. “Ah, Agent Jones.” He tapped her left foot with his hand. “You’ve finally found your sense of humor. That’s good to see.”
Forty
“I can’t believe you let her go in there alone.” Jake fumed as he panned a light across the subterranean river. Threads of vapor rose off the surface.
“Hey, she didn’t leave me a choice. It was either follow her and drown, or go for help. You of all people know how she can be,” Rodriguez said pointedly. “Hell, I’ll be lucky not to get arrested for defacing a cultural site.”
“Still, you should have tried to stop her.” Jake’s light came to a halt at the hole in the wall. “Jesus. Or at least tried to find a boat.”
“Yeah, because those are easy to find at four in the morning.” Rodriguez snorted.
“Well, we’ve got one now.” Jake eyed the tiny inflatable raft the embassy had lent them. It looked like a kid’s toy. He suspected they’d appropriated it from their swimming pool. With any luck it would remain afloat. “Let’s get going.”
Rodriguez grumbled as he tightened the straps of a tiny life jacket, the only one they’d been able to locate. One of the embassy hacks was back on the surface, trying to convince some enraged archaeologists that the destruction of the mural had been necessary for national security. Jake doubted that argument was working. Still, it bought him and Rodriguez time to go after Kelly. As soon as the federales showed up, that window of opportunity would close. They had to get moving.
Jake eased the boat into the water. It bobbed a few times. He held it still while Rodriguez climbed in. The bottom almost immediately filled with water, and Rodriguez hissed. Without giving him a chance to protest, Jake climbed in and pushed off.
Taking the flimsy rubber paddle in both hands, he guided them toward the wall. He needn’t have bothered, because as soon as they slipped into the current the boat was propelled there. Rodriguez kept the light directed straight forward, illuminating the path. He clutched a dry bag to his chest, face drawn and pale.
“Get a grip, Rodriguez,” Jake muttered. “It’s probably only a couple of feet deep anyway.”
Before Rodriguez could answer, they were sucked into the hole. It was a long tunnel. The raft bounced off the walls a few times. The current gained speed, the water slipped away quickly beneath them. Something sharp pressed against his leg from beneath the raft, and his mouth tightened. With the luck he was having lately, they’d sink before finding Kelly, and he’d have to save Rodriguez. Although the way he felt about him right now, that wasn’t his highest priority.
“Jesus,” Rodriguez said loudly. “We’ll never make it through there!”
Jake looked ahead. The tunnel was narrowing to a point. Rodriguez was right; the raft was probably too large to fit through.
“Lie as flat as you can,” he ordered, “and hold on to the sides.”
Jake got low, pressing his back against the floor of the raft, knees tucked down. It sank an inch lower and water sloshed over the sides, the cold making him shudder. Rodriguez’s head crammed against his legs. He lowered the flashlight. They were suddenly hurtling into darkness.
Rubber scraped against rock, and they jarred to a stop. His body rocked slightly from the impact. The raft was caught on something.
“We’re stuck!” Rodriguez called out, panicked.
Jake could feel the pressure building up behind them. More water poured over the sides, drenching his shoulders. If they didn’t get free soon, the boat would sink.
“Hang on,” he said, unclipping the flashlight from his belt. He reached over the side and scanned the light around. They were blocking an even narrower opening inside the tunnel, impeding the progress of the water.
“I’m going to shove us off,” he said. “But the boat might puncture or go down. If it does, get away from the raft and keep your feet up. Don’t try to stand.”
Jake pushed hard with his right arm: nothing. He tried again, this time using both hands, the flashlight dangling from a strap around his wrist. With a lurch, the boat spun free. Jake dropped back to the floor, rapping his head hard against a rocky outcropping on the way down. He winced, barely processing the pain. There was a ripping sound as the raft shot through the hole.
“We made it!” Rodriguez’s head popped up, outlined by the glow from Jake’s flashlight. His eyebrows knit together. “What’s that sound?”
Jake sat back up and panned his light along the outside of the raft. There was a long slit in the rubber right above the waterline. Air was hissing out at an alarming rate. “I’ve got bad news.”
Rodriguez was beside him in a flash, the sudden motion nearly capsizing them.
“Careful,” Jake warned, but Rodriguez ignored him.
“Crap. You bring any duct tape?”
“Don’t be—” Jake caught himself. Syd had packed their go-kits. And if he knew Syd, there was a roll of duct tape tucked inside his. He fumbled for the bag. The zipper resisted his first few tugs.
“We’re sinking,” Rodriguez noted apprehensively, clenching the dry bag to his chest. “Do you think this bag floats?”
“Shine your light over here so I can see.” Jake pawed through the contents of his backpack. The inside of the bag was suddenly illuminated. Jake sorted through energy bars and loose ammo until his hand closed around something circular. He yanked it out: a roll of silver duct tape.
“Wow. You really take that Boy Scout motto to heart,” Rodriguez said.
Jake didn’t answer, busy peeling off the outer wrapper. He yanked off a long line of tape, tearing it with his teeth. “Hold the hole closed.”
Rodriguez set his bag down on the floor of the raft. Reaching both hands over the side, he squeezed the ragged edges together. Jake managed to tape a section. He tore off another strip of tape, and they repeated the process. Five strips later, the hole had been sealed.
“We’re still taking in water,” Rodriguez said.
He was right. The raft had lost too much air. With their combined weight it barely cleared the surface. A steady stream of water slipped over the side.
“Start bailing,” Jake said.
“With what?” Rodriguez demanded, palms open. “Any chance you have an air pump in there?”
“Nope.” Jake started scooping with his hands. He quickly realized it was a losing battle. He dug through the pack again, but there was nothing better to bail with.
“Brace yourself,” he finally said, slinging his arms through the loops of the pack.
“For what?” Rodriguez asked, his voice filled with dread.
“We’re going to have to abandon ship.”
Stefan had finally fallen silent after what felt like an hours-long monologue about the Aztec calendar, Vikings and what he planned on doing with his immortality. Apparently he’d been hungering for someone to talk to. He addressed her as though she was an old friend. It was bizarre.
Kelly had tuned him out after a few minutes. She lay flat on her back trying to loosen the bindings around her wrists. It was difficult. Her fingers were still numb and the rope was wet. Every time she felt one knot release, she discovered another. Stefan hadn’t taken any chances.
She prayed he’d leave her alone for a while, so she could try to burn through the ties. Stefan appeared supremely confident that he had the upper hand, which worked in her favor. The fact that he hadn’t killed her yet was puzzling, but it gave her hope.
Hope. Kelly nearly laughed out loud. Because one thing had struck her as she lay there in arguably the most perilous situation she’d ever faced: she wasn’t ready to die. Despite the uncertainty of her future, she wanted the chance to experience it. So she’d lost her lower leg. Lots of people had suffered the same injury and gone on to lead productive lives. In the past few days she’d proven that she was still capab
le of most of the things she could do before the accident.
“You’re smiling,” Stefan noted. “Why?”
“It’s funny that I had to end up here to get some clarity,” she finally replied.
Stefan squinted at her. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet, Agent Jones. You see, there are no coincidences in life. You end up precisely where you’re supposed to be for a reason.”
“I keep forgetting that you were a preacher of sorts,” Kelly said. “Nice sermon.”
He shrugged. “A bit trite, I’ll admit, but the reason platitudes are clichéd is because they’re so frequently true.” He glanced at his watch again. “Almost time.”
Kelly’s stomach constricted. He stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. Her hands clenched into fists as she braced herself for whatever was coming.
Stefan’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Don’t worry, Agent Jones. It will only hurt for a moment.”
Syd watched as the remaining prisoners were loaded on to a bus. The surviving cartel members had been rounded up and were sitting in a circle, feet in front of them, hands behind their heads. A few were led off to the barracks building Isabela had requisitioned for interrogations. Occasional screams emanated from it. Syd had already decided that whatever was happening in there was none of her business.
She glanced at her watch impatiently. Jake should have called by now with an update on Mark. There was a tug at her sleeve. Syd instinctively yanked her arm away and spun. A wizened elderly woman was looking up at her. She had to be less than four feet tall.
“Qué quieres?” Syd snapped.
Kidnap & Ransom Page 27