Clive Cussler - The Eye of Heaven

“Much as I enjoy standing in the sun turning into a lobster, I think I’ll err on the side of caution and accompany you. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.”

Sam and Remi moved back to the staging area and, after a brief discussion with Antonio, begged off the media circus in favor of returning to their motel. Antonio had one of his assistants drive them back, and by noon Lazlo was back at the clinic and Sam and Remi were checked into the St. Regis.

Sam’s first call once they had settled into their room was to Selma, who agreed to stand by for receipt of the translation so the team could go to work on locating the area. Remi quickly typed it into her computer and sent it off, and as she watched the confirmation of receipt appear in her in-box, smiled at Sam.

“It’s only a matter of a few days before Antonio and Maribela get around to translating the inscription, you know.”

“Yes, but nobody has the message from the longboat except us.”

“What about Antonio and his sister? How do you feel about involving them?” Remi asked.

“I think once we have an idea what we’re looking at, we can make that call. Right now, the fewer people with all the puzzle pieces, the better. There have been too many leaks already. Why tempt fate?”

Janus Benedict carefully lit the Cohiba cigar he’d been saving for after lunch and puffed contentedly, taking in the turquoise waters off Isla Mujeres from the lower deck of his yacht. The glass-and-steel buildings of Cancún’s skyline sparkled in the distance. A steward approached with a cell phone and, after apologizing for the intrusion, set it on the teak table and disappeared. Janus lifted the phone to his ear.

“Yes?”

“The Fargos have managed to pull yet another rabbit out of their hat.” The speaker went on to describe the Viking find, culminating with the news conference that would be broadcast later that afternoon.

Janus processed the information in silence and, after blowing a cloud of smoke at the sky, issued a set of instructions. When he was finished, he hung up, his face untroubled, to all the world a man with no cares.

With the find at the Pyramid of the Moon, he knew the Fargos well enough to understand that if there were treasure to be hunted, they would do so with the tenacity of leeches. All he needed to do was be patient and remain vigilant. From his current position he could be anywhere in Mexico in a matter of hours, and when he was alerted that the Fargos were on the move, it would be child’s play to intercept them.

Reginald was still in Mexico City, where his quarry remained. Janus would watch and wait, allowing the irritating pair to do the work for him. A relatively simple scheme had already been made far more complicated by his brother, and Janus didn’t want to involve him again unless absolutely necessary. Guerrero’s participation as more than a hired gun was an irritant and subjected Janus to undue risk, but there might come a time in the near future when his brutal approach would come in handy.

Janus looked up at a pair of pelicans circling off the transom, eyeing the surface of the sea for any signs of bait fish. Predators feeding. The natural order of things.

An immutable law of nature that the meddlesome Fargos would soon experience firsthand.

Selma reached Sam the next day. Her voice sounded stronger than it had over the last few weeks — the old Selma, brimming with efficiency and stamina.

“We’ve been working on the landmarks you gave us, and we’ve narrowed it down to several likely areas. One’s on the Caribbean coast, near Belize; the second is in the Yucatán north of Cancún; and the third is north of Veracruz, on the Gulf of Mexico.”

Sam closed his eyes, envisioning the geography. “How many miles from Teotihuacan is the one by Belize?”

“About seven hundred fifty miles.”

“Mostly jungle, I’d guess.”

“It would be, yes.”

“What about the Yucatán location?”

“A little farther.”

“I can’t see a group of Vikings traveling that distance overland, through jungle, can you?” Sam asked.

“Anything’s possible, but I’d say they would have needed a pretty good reason.”

“Hmm. And how many miles is the Veracruz spot?”

“About a hundred seventy. But there’s a mountain range between Teotihuacan and the coast, a natural barrier of sorts.”

Sam thought for a moment. “I can see them crossing the mountains with a guide. I can’t see them trudging through dense jungle.”

“Then the Veracruz location is your baby …”

“I hear a but in your voice, Selma.”

“Well, there is a small wrinkle.”

“And what’s that?” Sam asked.

“It’s on or near the grounds of a nuclear power plant.”

The silence stretched over the line as Sam absorbed the information. “You’re kidding.”

“You know I don’t kid.”

Sam sighed. “I suppose I do.”

“Depending on the precise location, it could be just outside the perimeter security area. But there’s no way of knowing until you’re on the ground. I looked at all the satellite footage and it’s inconclusive. The only way to tell for sure is to go there.”

“Well, at least it’s not too far.”

“That’s a positive. Although it’s also in a region that has a lot of security issues.”

“More than Mexico City?”

“Oh yes. There’s only one highway north along the coast from Veracruz — the main port on the east side of the country. Which is also, not coincidentally, where much of the cocaine from Colombia enters. So that area is the primary distribution artery for trafficking cocaine north to the border states — which until recently were considered outside of the government’s control, effectively operated by the cartels.”

“Tell me this gets better.”

“I figured you’d want to know what you were looking at.”

“Thanks, Selma. I’m guessing it would be pretty close to impossible to slip in there without a permit and dig around, what with the nuclear power plant.”

“That’s probably a safe assumption.”

Remi returned from the spa an hour later and Sam filled her in, pointing out the area on their laptop.

“Look at the bright side. At least we’ve got a likely spot for the temple,” she said.

“Sure. Crawling with cartel killers and nukes. And we can forget about secrecy — we’re going to have to bring Antonio and Maribela into this if we’re going to get a permit.”

Remi sat on the bed and brushed her fingers through her auburn hair. “Doesn’t sound like we have much choice. I mean, we don’t have to tell them that we think the Eye of Heaven’s there. Just that we have a lead and want to look for ruins in that area.”

“A lead on what?”

“Well, on something related to the Vikings. That based on information we gleaned from the longship, we believe that was where they came ashore and that there might be some evidence. Keep it vague.” She rose. “I’m going to take a shower. Think about it some and then we can call Antonio. After discovering Quetzalcoatl’s tomb, I don’t see how he’ll say no.”

“I don’t, either. But I also don’t see how he won’t want to accompany us. It’s relatively close and he’s been with us so far.”

“You’re probably right. And that means his sister, too.”

“They seem to come as a pair.”

“No comment.”

Antonio was polite but cautious when they spoke on the telephone that afternoon. He was still in Teotihuacan, where he would remain until he was satisfied that the excavation was well under way and a team leader had been put in charge.