Wrath of the Gods
A James Acton Thriller
by
J. Robert Kennedy
From the Back Cover
“Kennedy rules the genre.” (Malcolm Stone)
“A master storyteller.” (Betty Richard)
A THOUSAND YEARS OF HISTORY ARE ABOUT TO BE REWRITTEN!
A strange people land on the shores of the Mayan Empire, triggering a battle for the very survival of a civilization already in upheaval from a punishing drought, the fight falling to a young chieftain left to face what he believes is the wrath of gods angered by a loss of faith.
A thousand years later, Archaeology Professors James Acton and Laura Palmer are invited to an incredible discovery that reveals the truth of what happened in those fateful days 400 years before Columbus. Yet before they can fully explore this amazing find, they are thrust into the middle of the Mexican drug war, Acton and Interpol Agent Hugh Reading taken hostage, leaving it up to Laura to save them.
Four-time USA Today Bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy once again takes history and twists it to his own ends in Wrath of the Gods, an action-packed thrill ride only he can deliver. Prepare to be on the edge of your seat as a forgotten history is revealed, and a race against time unfolds with enough heart-pounding excitement, laughter and tears, to satisfy any action fan.
About the James Acton Thrillers
"James Acton: A little bit of Jack Bauer and Indiana Jones!"
Though this book is part of the James Acton Thrillers series, it is written as a standalone novel and can be enjoyed without having read any of the previous installments.
About J. Robert Kennedy
With over 650,000 books in circulation and over 3000 five-star reviews, USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has been ranked by Amazon as the #1 Bestselling Action Adventure novelist based upon combined sales. He is the author of over twenty-five international bestsellers including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers. He lives with his wife and daughter and writes full-time.
"A master storyteller." — Betty Richard
"A writer who tells what we are thinking but sometimes afraid to say." — Bruce Ford
"Kennedy kicks ass in this genre." — David Mavity
"One of the best writers today." — Johnny Olsen
"If you want fast and furious, if you can cope with a high body count, most of all if you like to be hugely entertained, then you can't do much better than J Robert Kennedy." — Amazon Vine Voice Reviewer
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Find out more at www.jrobertkennedy.com.
Books by J. Robert Kennedy
The James Acton Thrillers
The Protocol
Brass Monkey
Broken Dove
The Templar's Relic
Flags of Sin
The Arab Fall
The Circle of Eight
The Venice Code
Pompeii's Ghosts
Amazon Burning
The Riddle
Blood Relics
Sins of the Titanic
Saint Peter's Soldiers
The Thirteenth Legion
Raging Sun
Wages of Sin
Wrath of the Gods
The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers
Rogue Operator
Containment Failure
Cold Warriors
Death to America
Black Widow
The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers
Payback
Infidels
The Lazarus Moment
Kill Chain
Forgotten
The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries
Depraved Difference
Tick Tock
The Redeemer
Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series
The Turned
Table of Contents
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Table of Contents
Beginning
Preface
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
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66
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82
Acknowledgements
Don't Miss Out!
Thank You!
About the Author
Also by the Author
For the over 100,000 dead from the Mexican war on drugs.
And the over 27,000 missing.
“Having received the Mandate from Heaven, may (the emperor) lead a long and prosperous life.”
Inscription by Prime Minister Li Si on the Heirloom Seal of the Realm, circa 221 BC
“We’re all afraid in Mexico now. We can’t let fear beat us.”
Marisol Valles García
Former 21-year-old police chief of Praxedis G. Guerrero, Mexico, forced to flee to the United States after months of threats from the drug cartels.
Preface
There is a story that when Columbus arrived in America, the natives couldn’t see his ships, as their minds couldn’t perceive them, the concept of vessels so large, simply too much for them to comprehend. This has been largely dismissed as ridiculous, the very idea that large ships could park offshore and not be noticed for hours or days, laughable.
Yet dismissing this idea out of hand would be premature. There is evidence to suggest that the natives saw the boats, yet simply had no concept as to what they were looking at, therefore didn’t see them as boats, but something else entirely.
Or nothing at all.
A mirage.
And it has been suggested these sightings—or lack thereof—weren’t the first.
Legends, maps, and even pre-Columbian writings bearing a remarkable resemblance to ancient Chinese, have been found, suggesting the Chinese visited the Americas long before Columbus.
Yet if this were true, shouldn’t there be some evidence left behind? Some tangible proof that the Chinese had actually arrived?
Of course, there wouldn’t
be, if that evidence were intentionally erased.
1
Pacific Coastal Region
Maya Highlands, Maya Empire
1092 AD
Balam Canek stared at the sea, the waves roaring against the shore, the water extending out into the distance, lost to the sun low on the horizon. Something was wrong. Something was different. He couldn’t put his finger on it, what it could be, though something was definitely not right.
“What is it?”
He glanced at his wife, Nelli. “I’m not sure. Do you see something? On the water?”
She stared, squinting into the sun, then shook her head. “No, nothing. Do you?”
He shrugged, holding his hand up to shield some of the light. “I don’t know. Something isn’t right. It’s like a mirage. I know something is there, but I can’t quite make it out.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Where?”
He pointed directly ahead. “I think there’s something there, but there can’t be, right?”
She stepped toward the water, her bare feet leaving cute little indentations in the sand. He followed. “Was there ever an island there?”
He gave her a look. “We’ve lived here our entire lives. You know the answer to that.”
She grunted. “Then I don’t know what I see.”
He grabbed onto the words. “But you do see something!”
She frowned, her head bobbing slowly. “Yes, there’s definitely something there, but I have no idea what it is. It must be a trick. Perhaps Bitol is having fun with us?”
He chuckled at the reference to the Sky God. It could be. The gods were known to toy with their creations from time to time, or to show their displeasure. Sacrifices would be made over the coming days, he had no doubt. The gods would be appeased, and whatever this was, would go away.
Nelli gasped, jabbing a finger toward the sea. “Balam, look!”
He turned to where she was pointing and his jaw dropped. It was a boat, filled with perhaps ten men, men dressed as nothing he had ever seen. Suddenly everything came into focus, as if a great fog had lifted, though this was nothing physical, nothing natural, instead a fog of the mind as it made sense of what he had been staring at for so long. “May the gods protect us! I see it! It’s a floating island!”
Nelli stared, her mouth agape, then she grabbed his arm, gripping it tight. “But it can’t be! That’s impossible!”
He didn’t say anything, instead standing frozen in place, his entire body shaking as his heart hammered. It was an island, floating on the water, rising and falling with the waves. Yet it was more than that. There were at least half a dozen of the islands, all clustered together, giving the illusion from a distance of one massive creation. And now, several boats, loaded with strange men, strange creatures, sailed toward the shore, toward them.
“I-I’ve never seen anything like it! Who could create such a thing?”
Nelli tugged on his arm, trying to lead him away. “Come, we must go warn the others. Nothing good can possibly come of this.”
He resisted at first, continuing to stare at the strange land floating upon the sea.
It must be the gods. And they must be angry!
“Balam! Come!”
The first boat hit the beach, its prow cutting into the sand, those aboard jumping over the sides. They appeared to be men, yet not. They had two arms and two legs, like himself, though their eyes were thin and slanted, unlike any he had ever seen.
Except in an animal, glowering in the dark.
He shivered. These were not men at all. They were covered in some sort of thick, rigid hide, like the scales of a reptile, one of them, obviously the leader, stepping onto the sand and saying something in a tongue he had not heard before, shimmering in the sunlight as if his skin were made of gold. One of them pointed in their direction. Something was shouted. Balam turned and grabbed Nelli by the hand, terror gripping his chest.
They must be here to punish us!
“We have to warn the others!”
2
Fairmont Mayakoba Resort
Riviera Maya, Mexico
Present Day
“Man, this is the life.” Archaeology Professor James Acton held up his margarita and clinked glasses with his wife and love of his life, Archaeology Professor Laura Palmer.
“It is, indeed.”
Acton swapped hands and presented his glass with salted rim to one of their best friends, Interpol Agent Hugh Reading. Reading eyed the ridiculously emasculating glass and tapped it with his own beer, in a bottle, that he had managed to have warmed to his own liking, everything at the exclusive resort chilled to North American expectations, not the cellar temperature his British heritage demanded. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” Acton drained his drink then raised it high, a cabana boy rushing over.
“Another, señor?”
“Absolutely.” The young boy smiled, taking the empty glass and turned to Laura who waved him off.
“No, love, I need my legs working later.”
“Damn right you do.”
“James!”
Reading snorted then drained his bottle, handing it to the boy. “It tastes like another.”
“Right away, señor.”
The boy rushed off, and Reading let out a loud sigh as he sank back in his lounge chair. “Did I thank you for inviting me?”
Laura winked at her husband. “Only a few dozen times.”
Reading gave her a look. “Well, thank you again.” He glanced at Acton. “Add it to the tally, I’m sure you’re keeping score.”
Acton grinned. “I just wish Greg could have come with the family.”
“Back problems?”
Acton shook his head, thankful that wasn’t the issue. His friend had been shot in the back several years ago, and initially, the doctors had thought he’d never walk again. Thankfully, they were wrong. Greg Milton could now walk, though his stamina was still a challenge, the pain eventually returning to the point where he’d have to sit down.
But walking was walking.
“Alumni problems. The state cut some of our funding, so he’s trying to make up the difference.”
“Is your job at risk?”
“He’s my best friend. It better not be.”
“Well, if it is, Professor Acton, perhaps you can come work with me.”
Acton flinched then twisted around to see the source of the comment. And smiled. “Eduardo! What the hell are you doing here?” He stood, extending his hand, Eduardo Morales taking it and pulling him in for a thumping hug.
“My friend, I am delighted you are here! So much so, I will not chastise you for failing to tell me you were coming with your lovely wife.”
Laura rose, giving Morales a hug. “Good to see you, Eduardo, it’s been too long.”
“Yes, the antiquities conference in Jordan.” He motioned toward Acton. “Before this one found you and made an honest woman of you.”
Laura grinned. “I like to think I made an honest man out of him.”
Reading eyed the colorful margarita just arriving. “Are you sure you made a man out of him?”
Acton feigned a punch to Reading’s midriff. “May I introduce our good friend, Hugh Reading of Interpol.”
Morales shook Reading’s hand. “A pleasure.”
“Likewise.” Reading took his beer, testing the temperature and giving the cabana boy a thumbs up. “Keep them coming like that, lad, and you’ll have a good tip at the end of this.” The boy beamed then rushed off to his next customer.
Acton gestured toward an empty chair under the large umbrella. “Take a load off and tell us what’s new with you. Are you here on vacation?”
Morales sat then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “No, Jim, I’m here looking for you guys.”
Acton’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Morales leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “I’ve made a discovery, one so significant, I don’t know who I can trust.”
3
Pacif
ic Coastal Region
Maya Highlands, Maya Empire
1092 AD
Cheng Jun steadied himself in the boat then leaped into the water as they reached shore. He and the others pulled the boat aground, careful to keep their feet in the water, for the honor of setting foot upon dry land would be that of their Admiral, Khong Hui. He had doubted they would ever see land again, yet here they were, on the shores of some strange, new world, a world none of his people had ever before seen. It was terrifying yet exciting, and it was truly an honor that he had been chosen to not only serve aboard the fleet’s flagship, but to be part of the initial landing party. His family would never have believed it, and he just prayed that one day he’d see them again, so they could share in the honor this day should bring to his children and grandchildren, for generations to come.
For today was a great day.
They were here to spread the mighty Song Dynasty across the sea, to the lands long rumored to lie across the great ocean, and perhaps return with untold riches, a share every man in the crew had been assured of, should they do their duty.
And he had done his duty.
“I claim this land in the name of the Emperor, and the Song Dynasty!” Admiral Khong stepped from the prow and onto the beach, walking several paces inland, no one daring move until his boots touched the dry sand. Admiral Khong surveyed the area, his head held high, chin jutted forward, the air of superiority evident to all, a superiority well-deserved.
For he carried the great seal, the Heirloom Seal of the Realm, given to him by the Emperor himself, to prove his authority should it ever be challenged. Though here, in this desolate place, Cheng could imagine no one challenging the Empire, the Emperor, or his representative on this mission.
With a flick of the wrist, Admiral Khong ordered them forward, and Cheng, with the others, pulled the boat farther ashore then fanned out, forming a protective wedge in front of their leader. What strange beasts may be lurking in the thick forest ahead of them, he did not know, but he would happily sacrifice himself to its claws should it mean saving the life of Admiral Khong, and guaranteeing the security of his family for years to come. To die saving one’s admiral was the dream of peasants like him, and though he hoped his armor would protect him so he might live to see his beloved wife and their three children again, his death would bring them far more.
Wrath of the Gods (A James Acton Thriller, #18) (James Acton Thrillers) Page 1