David Golemon - Legend

"Damn." Jack turned and looked at Sarah.

She was turning the metal box over and Jack saw it was the same box as they had seen in the pictures back at the complex. The initials W.K. were on the back in between the rusted hinges.

"Open it," Jack ordered.

"I'm not opening this; I can't do it without destroying it," she protested.

"So why don't you put it down?" McBride asked, fuming over the destruction these people could be causing to the valuable finds he was in charge of protecting.

"You know we're looking for a cross," said Sarah. "Why won't you help us?"

"Because my job description says nothing about assisting thieves and vandals, whoever you are," he said to Sarah's back. Then he turned halfway around and faced Mendenhall, who twirled the ranger's automatic on his right index finger and then quickly placed it back in McBride's holster.

"There, a gesture of trust and goodwill, Ranger. If she destroys the box looking for the cross, you can shoot me," Mendenhall said, looking over at Jack, who nodded his head.

McBride looked away for a moment in thought. Then he looked back at Will Mendenhall and actually brought his right hand up halfway to his holster. Then he dipped his head and relaxed.

"Dammit!" Sarah said. He'd called her bluff. She put the box down.

Jack shook his head and pursed his lips. "Well, that's that. They were the only items linked to Keogh."

McBride cleared his throat. "Don't ask me why I'm telling you this," he said as he stepped toward the examination table nearest him. Mendenhall looked questioningly at the major, who shrugged his shoulders. "But those aren't the only items Captain Keogh had on him at the time of his death." He reached out and pulled a black cloth away from a lone Christian cross that had been placed on the table for examination.

Sarah's heart raced when she saw what had been right in front of them. It was a large cross measuring seven inches by four in width. It didn't resemble any of the crosses they had seen in the original ISO photos at the Event Group meeting.

"That wasn't in the report and pictures we received," Jack said.

"Well, it wasn't cataloged until this afternoon."

"What makes you think it was Keogh's?" Sarah asked.

"Since its discovery, it's been cleaned and examined by experts." McBride addressed Jack. "And his name is on it, in small letters on the crossbar of the cross itself. And our historians also know its Keogh's because there are several accounts of his having one just like it delivered to him before he left the fort."

Jack's eyes lingered on McBride a moment as he remembered the Libby Custer account Niles had mentioned. He knew the man had to be telling the truth because he was not only a park ranger, he also was a tour guide and one that had to be very knowledgeable about the battle and all its strange aspects.

Jack walked over and looked at the cross more closely. He picked it up and turned it over; sure enough, engraved in small script on the back of the cross member was the name: Myles Keogh, for Papal Service.

"I'll be damned," he said.

Sarah went up on her toes to see it. Then her eyes widened and she gently removed the rust-spotted cross from Jack's fingers . Why didn't the Parks Service experts see this? she wondered as she stared at its base.

"The pope and his archives people were sly ones." She gestured for the others to come over as she felt the goose bumps rise on her arms. She slowly twisted the bottom of the cross, and they all heard it crack in her fingers. McBride grimaced, thinking she had broken it. Then they heard a small pop as if a cork had been pulled free of a bottle.

"Would you like to have the honors, Ranger McBride?" Sarah asked while holding out the cross.

He shook his head quickly. He wanted nothing to do with the new discovery by whoever this woman was.

Sarah looked at Jack.

"You go ahead, Sherlock, it's your show," he responded.

Sarah gently tapped the top of the cross as the others slowly leaned inward. Nathan had his mouth open as if that would help whatever was inside come free. She tapped again and nothing happened. She tapped once more and again nothing. She tapped it harder against the stainless-steel table and, as they all watched, the edge of a piece of yellowed paper could be seen. Sarah swallowed and laid the cross down. She reached for a pair of tweezers and a pair of surgical gloves. She then picked up the cross and used the tweezers to gently pull on the corner of the exposed paper. It slid out as easily as if it were placed inside only yesterday. She lay down the tweezers and cross and carefully unfolded the paper. The paper cracked along the fold lines but Sarah pushed on. Particles of very old fiber floated around the map. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief when it was fully open.

The map was eleven by seven inches. Its cursive lettering and artwork were meticulous. Sarah took a deep breath and let out a small whoop, startling the others and making Nathan duck as if a ghost had taken a swing at him.

"Sorry," she said.

"What is it?" McBride asked.

"Just a five-hundred-year-old map that was written by a very brave man," she answered exuberantly.

As they examined it, they could see it was very detailed and showed the route to the valley and the giant lagoon clearly. They even had to smile when they saw that the area was marked with a small X . Then they all noticed one thing at the bottom, near the spot marking the lagoon, written more boldly than the other calligraphy: a warning Padilla had penned so that anyone could read it. Unfortunately all but the ranger understood the simple Spanish immediately.

Aguas Negros Satanicos.

"What does it say?" McBride asked as the sound of a helicopter slowly started to penetrate the wooden structure.

Sarah looked at him and then the others. "Roughly translated, 'The Black Waters of Satan,' " she answered a split second before bullets smashed through the door, slamming into her and Ranger McBride.

Jack and Mendenhall drew their sidearms and hit the tiled floor before the echoes of the attack had faded. Jack crawled over to Sarah, who was unmoving on the ground where she had fallen; she had tried in vain to cover the park ranger. When he saw blood spreading out in an ever-widening pool around the two prone bodies, his own racing blood froze in his veins.

Mendenhall fired three quick shots, two hitting drywall on either side of the door and one through the door itself, after rolling away from Sarah and McBride. The sergeant couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Professor Nathan standing upright as bullets slammed into the walls and fixtures; the man was slowly walking toward the rear of the examining room as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Apparently the sudden explosion of violence had unhinged the professor's thought processes and he thought just leaving would make it all stop. Mendenhall saw what had caused it. Dripping from Nathan's chin was blood and brain matter. "Get down, Professor, for Christ's sake!" he shouted as he fired twice more through the closed door.

"Sarah, Sarah!" Jack called loudly over the gunfire.

His heart lurched when she turned over and rolled under the lab table where Jack was lying. "God, are you all right?"

"Yeah, one barely clipped my shoulder. Not much of a wound but it stings like hell. Ranger McBride's had it though, caught one in the head."

"Goddammit!" Jack said. Then he looked up and saw the feet of Nathan as he slowly walked toward the rear door. "Nathan, get your ass down!" he said loudly.

"He's in shock, Major!" Mendenhall called out.

More automatic fire erupted and chunks of drywall started flying around them. Even more of the rounds were striking the examining tables.