Clive Cussler - The Eye of Heaven

“Mexican authorities,” said Sam. “I hope you enjoy your ride to prison.”

To Sam’s surprise, Janus laughed in a gloating tone. “Yes, I’ll enjoy the ride, but it won’t end in a Mexican prison. It will be to my yacht, which is in international waters.”

Sam was angered by the cocky reply, but when he saw the helicopter was bright blue instead of military khaki, he knew Janus wasn’t bluffing. “I can shoot you before you board.”

Janus stared at Sam in silence and then dropped his pistol. He shrugged and slowly turned to face the helicopter, his back to Sam. The helicopter set down and two armed men leapt from the aircraft, their weapons trained on Sam.

Sam continued to keep his weapon aimed at Janus even though he was outgunned. “One day you’ll pay for your crimes.”

Janus walked toward the aircraft. When he neared it, he stopped, turned to Sam, and called out over the noise of the rotor blades, “As I said, I don’t kill. Not even you, Sam Fargo.”

“At least you didn’t get the Eye of Heaven.”

“True,” Janus shouted above the thumping sound. “But there will come another time when a treasure will bring us together.” He turned and boarded the chopper as Sam stood frozen.

Sam watched as it lifted from the clearing and turned over the cliffs toward the sea. “Yes,” he said softly to himself, “there will come another time.”

Sam lowered the revolver as his eyes followed the darkened aircraft disappear into the night, leaving him alone on the bluff. The breeze tugged at his clothes as he made his way slowly back to the temple.

When he reached the entryway, Remi ran out and threw her arms around him. He hugged her for a long moment and then pulled back.

“He got away.”

Remi’s eyes radiated confusion. “He escaped? How?”

“I let him go. I couldn’t shoot an unarmed man in the back even if it was Benedict.” He explained what had happened.

Remi reached down and took Sam’s revolver from him. She peered at it in the moonlight, flipped open the cylinder, and then turned to him.

“Good thing. You were out of bullets.”

Sam and Remi watched as the heavily armed soldiers ringed the temple area and four medics came toward them. Remi pointed to where Lazlo was slumped against a wall and two of them went after a stretcher as the other two followed Antonio down the steps to Reginald.

Sam moved to Lazlo, who reached toward him with a shaking hand.

“Don’t try to talk. They’ll take care of you,” Sam said.

Lazlo motioned for him to come closer. Sam exchanged a glance with the medics, who shrugged as they stood, having stabilized Lazlo. Sam knelt by him and offered a grim smile.

“Save your energy, my friend. You’re going to need it.”

Antonio burst from the temple, a look of alarm on his face. Remi glanced at him.

“What is it?”

“The Eye of Heaven. It’s gone,” Antonio whispered, eyeing the dozens of soldiers who were milling around in the interior. “This is a catastrophe.”

Lazlo coughed and winced. “My … my jacket,” he said, turning his head to where one of the men had placed his bloody windbreaker.

“Are you cold?” Sam asked, alarmed.

“No. The … the jewel’s in one of the pockets.”

“What?” He scooped up the jacket, feeling the weight, and retrieved the emerald.

“I thought it might … be best … to remove temptation … if we were expecting … a crowd,” Lazlo said and closed his eyes, exhausted by the effort.

Remi and Sam exchanged a glance and Sam handed the jewel to Antonio, who took it reverentially. “Be careful, Antonio. That’s an important piece of history you’re safeguarding.”

Antonio nodded, a conflicted look in his eyes as he studied the gem, the memory of his sister clearly at the forefront of his thoughts as he held the treasure of the Toltecs in his hands.

Seven hours later, Lazlo regained consciousness at the military hospital in Veracruz after a two-hour surgery. The prognosis was good, and, with a little luck, he would mend, a puckered scar and a crescent-shaped incision as bragging rights.

Sam and Remi approached his bed as his eyes opened, his complexion still waxy and gray even after countless bags of blood and plasma. He cleared his throat and tried to talk, but Sam shook his head.

“Don’t. We’ll be back tomorrow. We just wanted to stick around until you came to. Looks like you cheated the Grim Reaper once again. Nine lives, the man has.”

“I …”

“Just take it easy. There’s nothing that needs to be discussed right now. We just wanted you to know we’re here for you and we’ll be staying nearby. Rest, and we’ll come back tomorrow, all right?” Sam said, and Lazlo managed a weak nod, then closed his eyes and drifted off.

The area around the temple was cordoned off and a small military encampment had been set up blocking the access road. Sam and Remi showed their passports and, after a stony-faced corporal checked their identification against a list and radioed for approval, they were allowed onto the grounds. Another soldier pointed to an area filled with military vehicles, where they were to park. The trail leading the two hundred yards to the temple was now a dirt road, cleared and widened to get equipment and staff to the area. Armed soldiers lined the track every dozen yards or so, and Sam and Remi could see that they were taking the security precautions seriously.

They arrived at what had been a dirt mound only hours before. It now resembled an anthill, with workers crawling over it and clearing soil under Antonio’s watchful eye. A large tent had been pitched nearby, along with a tarp suspended from four beams, under which technicians were setting up equipment accompanied by the steady drone of a generator.

“Antonio, did you get any sleep?” Remi asked as they approached the temple.

“A few hours. I knew I wasn’t going to get much and there’s work to be done here. As you can see, we’re clearing the exterior, with another team working inside. It will take some time to catalog everything.”

“And the Eye of Heaven?”

“Under guard in the base commander’s safe until we can fly it to Mexico City.”

“How long do you plan to be on-site here?”

“At least a week. I’ll be commuting back and forth between Teotihuacan and this site for a while. Both finds are monumental. For which the Mexican people owe you a deep debt of gratitude.”

“The work is its own reward, Antonio,” Remi said and Sam nodded.

Antonio pointed at an area near the flat roof of the temple that had been cleared and called out to the workers in Spanish, then turned his attention back to his guests.

“How is Lazlo?”

“He’ll recover.”

“Have you heard anything about Reginald?”

“Under arrest, being treated at the same medical facility. Reginald’s in guarded condition from blood loss, but he’ll survive,” Sam said.

“I wanted to talk to you about that. I don’t feel comfortable asking but I have to for the sake of my parents. Is there any way you could leave Maribela’s involvement with Benedict out of the official account?”

Sam and Remi smiled together. “We’ve already discussed it. As far as we’re concerned, she died in the line of duty,” Sam said.

“There’s nothing to be gained by tarnishing her memory,” Remi added.

“I thank you. You’ll never know how grateful I am.”

“We’re both very sorry about how this turned out … about her untimely death.”

Antonio looked off at the sparkling surface of the Gulf of Mexico, a distant expression on his face. When he returned his gaze to them, his eyes were moist.