Brian shook Ortiz’s hand and thanked him for his personal involvement in Brian’s visit. “I know how busy you must be and I appreciate your coming here today.”
“Oh yes, I am a very busy man but I am also at your service, Senor Sadler, for the time you are here. And how long will that be?” he asked casually.
“I’m not certain, Dr. Ortiz. It may be several days, depending on how things turn out.”
“I was wondering, Senor Sadler, what you would be most interested in seeing while you are at the site? Those of us here are not certain of the purpose of your visit.”
Brian chose his words carefully. “It’s just a fact-finding mission, you might say. President Harrison asked me to be an extra set of eyes and ears for him. I know everything possible has been done to solve the mystery of President Chapman’s disappearance. I’m sure I’ll just be confirming what your government and ours already know, which unfortunately isn’t much.” He smiled at Ortiz. “Is the Sussex University dig supervisor here?”
Ortiz looked surprised. “Cory Spencer? No, Senor Sadler. Do you wish to interview him? I think he is at the barracks where the team is living here at Palenque. Shall I call him to come over?”
“Please.”
The three of them, Ortiz, Sadler and the FBI agent, walked on the trail through tall trees toward the Temple of the Inscriptions as Ortiz texted on his phone. “Senor Spencer will be at the temple shortly,” he reported to the group.
Standing in the plaza between the Palace and the Temple, Brian Sadler stopped for a moment to take in the beautiful setting. He loved this place. He had last been here a few years back and was captivated by the tranquility of this majestic city. High trees cast shadows on the ancient buildings built long ago by a mysterious civilization that had somehow mastered complex architecture eerily similar to the Egyptians on the other side of the world. The Mayans had placed hundred-ton stones eighty feet in the air atop a massive temple complex. How had these simple people, living in a primitive jungle environment, accomplished it? Who taught them how to create massive buildings that would require heavy machinery if they were erected today?
Every time Brian saw the incredible edifices these people had built the same questions came into his mind. And every time he wondered what the answers really were. Hundreds of books had been written postulating every theory imaginable. On the surface some were incredibly farfetched but then again, were they really? Brian had often thought about the ancient alien theory – the idea that an advanced extraterrestrial civilization brought science, architecture, construction techniques and much more to primitive societies around the world. Was that really crazier than the conclusion “normal” people believed? Did these Indians, living in hundreds of square miles of forest a thousand years ago, just somehow build these massive cities all over the place? Buildings that stretch to the heavens today, all built with hand tools? Hundred-ton stones carved and laid so perfectly in a wall eighty feet above the ground that you can’t put a piece of paper in the seams between them?
Lost in reverie, he jumped when he heard, “Brian! Wow! Good to see you!”
Cory Spencer ran toward Brian and hugged him. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of years! What are you doing here?”
Dr. Ortiz moved closer, surprised at the friendship these two men obviously shared. He watched them intently.
“It’s OK.” Brian slapped Cory on the shoulder. “I’m from the government and I’m here to help you!” They both laughed.
“You’re the emissary from President Harrison? I, uh, I thought maybe he would send someone with…”
Brian interrupted, grinning. “You dare to doubt my credentials as an archaeologist and a sleuth? I don’t blame you. Don’t ask me why the President chose me to come down. But he asked and I accepted and here I am. So I’ll do my best. Listen, I want to catch up with you but we can’t keep Dr. Ortiz waiting while we rehash your wonderful days at Bijan Rarities. Let’s meet for breakfast in the morning. Say eight a.m.? Dr. Ortiz, am I free at eight tomorrow?”
“Whatever you wish, Senor Sadler,” the archaeologist said more tersely than he intended. Covering himself, he smiled. “Your schedule is in your hands. I am merely your facilitator.” He watched and listened as the men chatted.
“Great. Then I’ll see you at eight, Cory. I’m at La Casa Hermosa.”
Cory’s concern showed in his eyes for a second. “You are? Uh, I think our backer Thomas Newton Torrance is staying there too. Do you know him?”
“We met less than an hour ago. I’ll be seeing him later this evening.”
Spencer’s entire demeanor changed. He was no longer the jovial guy he had been and a cloud came over his face. He was suddenly serious and his voice broke slightly. “OK, Brian. I’m glad you’re here. Really glad. I…I need to talk to you and…you know, catch up like you said.” He stammered as though he had said too much.
Dr. Ortiz watched him closely then took Brian’s arm and steered him to the base of the Temple of the Inscriptions.
Ortiz turned to Spencer and dismissively said, “Cory, I won’t need you for this part so you’re free to leave now. Senor Sadler, shall we climb the edifice?”
Cory walked back to the team’s barracks. Who would have imagined Brian Sadler would drop into his life? And now, finally, I have a way out of this mess.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cory Spencer’s cellphone rang less than twenty minutes after he left Brian Sadler. A pang of anxiety shot through his mind as he saw Thomas Newton Torrance’s number on the screen. He had to be careful. Very careful. But he was confident too. Now he had a plan – he knew how he was going to handle all of this.
“Hi, Mr. Torrance.”
The financier’s voice was steely. “Cory, I hear you met an old friend.”
Word gets around fast. “Yes sir, I did. My old boss, Brian Sadler. But I hear you already met him yourself. And I’m sure you know we used to work together. Did Dr. Ortiz call you about my meeting Brian?”
“I know everything about you, Cory. For instance, I know you’re going to keep secrets to yourself when you have your little meeting with Sadler tomorrow morning. Aren’t you? It would be very dangerous for you and your career if you accidentally, or even on purpose, told things that I don’t want you to tell.”
Cory was cautious. “We’re just having a casual breakfast, sir. We’re just catching up on old times.”
“Of course you are. I’ll be listening. You can count on that. Watching too. I want you to find out something tomorrow. Find out why Brian Sadler is here, why the President picked him to come to the temple. Don’t arouse his suspicions or cause him to question your interest.
“Cory, you’re far, far out of your league here. You have such a minor role it’s hardly worth mentioning. But you’re going to help me. Why? Because you’ll find yourself with a bigger problem than you ever imagined possible if you tell what’s happening here at Palenque. You hold your future, perhaps your life, in your hands.” Torrance hung up.
Cory shook uncontrollably as he stared at the phone. As quickly as he had worked out a solution he felt mired in his problems again. Torrance was dangerous. Cory had already figured that out. He didn’t get where he is by being Mr. Friendly.
My life is in my hands? And he’ll be watching and listening? Does he already know about the cavern at the end of the passageway? Is that what he’s talking about? Is that what he wants me to keep secret?
He dropped the phone on his bunk as tears began to flow. What the hell is going on here? What have I gotten myself into? Who can I trust? Should I trust Brian? If I don’t, how can I ever get out of this?
-----
At 5:30 Brian, Dr. Ortiz and the FBI agent left the chambers, climbed the staircase inside the Temple of the Inscriptions and emerged in the stone building high atop the edifice. They had spent nearly three hours in the two rooms deep inside the temple and the sun was almost down. Dr. Ortiz passed out headlamps from his backpack and the three men walked down t
he outside of the temple to the broad plaza below. In the growing darkness they walked down the jungle path to the parking lot where the SUV sat.
Brian had offered to let the agent have the afternoon off but he respectfully declined. “Given that President Chapman disappeared from this very place, Mr. Sadler, I don’t think President Harrison would take too kindly if I let you out of my sight.” The agent had helped them scour the walls, ceilings and floors of King Pakal’s tomb and the new chamber below it, the one containing the metal artifact. They had no idea what they were looking for, if anything. All they knew was the President couldn’t have vanished from the face of the earth. He had to have gone somewhere, and it wasn’t back up the stairway. So there must be something here that they couldn’t see.
Brian’s excitement was at its peak when they descended for the first time and entered Pakal’s burial chamber. His anticipation at seeing the mysterious sarcophagus lid depicting Pakal in what looked like a spaceship was as high this time as when he had first laid eyes on it several years ago. He was disappointed when he saw the lid covered in protective layers of foam and cloth. Then his enthusiasm peaked again – before him lay the hole in the floor leading to the hidden room below.
He was absolutely stunned when he saw the metal strut lying on its stone altar in the chamber below Pakal’s sarcophagus. He stood transfixed as he thought about how King Pakal himself must have ordered the construction of his tomb right on top of this artifact that looked as though it were created only a couple of years ago, then involved in a major wreck. What was it? How did it get here? Did it have something to do with Pakal’s tomb lid – was this the reason the king ordered his people to depict him lying prone with his hands on levers, preparing to ascend in some type of craft? Was this piece of metal actually a strut from that ship? That thought was too vast, too difficult to comprehend. If it was a strut the entire realm of knowledge of the Mayan people was subject to rethinking. Dramatically. Maybe these weren’t just simple natives with no tools. The Spanish conquistadors had burned literally all but five of the Mayan people’s written records. Maybe some of those lost books – the codices – had contained records of the Mayan people and their contact with…whatever. It was just mind-boggling.
After shooting a dozen pictures from every angle with his phone Brian had forced himself to stop staring at the metal strut and join the others to search for another way out of either room. They hadn’t found anything today. Hopefully tomorrow would be different.
The men were standing by the government SUV when Dr. Ortiz’s cellphone dinged. He took it out, looked at the screen and said to Brian, “Mr. Torrance is at the hotel and would like to have a drink with you, Senor Sadler. Assuming that is good, he asks when you will return.”
“That’s fine,” Brian responded, remembering his promise to talk to Nicole. “I have a conference call at seven so maybe we could meet shortly. If we’re leaving now, I could be on the patio at six.”
Ortiz sent a response. “All right then, I will see you men tomorrow. Is nine a.m. satisfactory, Senor Sadler? If so I will see you right here.”
Brian confirmed the time then Ortiz walked to his own vehicle, an old Willys Jeep. He started it, screeched gears noisily and drove off.
A half-hour later Brian and Thomas Newton Torrance sat on the patio of the hotel. There was only one other table occupied – they appeared to be tourists – a man, woman and two children, all speaking German.
They both ordered vodka with tonic and settled back in their chairs. Torrance began the conversation lightly. “I hope you had a productive afternoon, Brian.”
“Seeing the artifact was one of the most amazing things of my life. My mind’s racing about what it could be. But really nothing else came of our efforts today.”
“What exactly are you looking for?”
Brian was cautious. He wanted to know more about Torrance and his reasons for financing this project without divulging much himself. And that wasn’t hard because Brian didn’t know much at all; neither did the President.
“I really don’t know where to start. President Harrison is willing to commit any resource to finding President Chapman, but it’s hard to do that when no one has a clue where he is. Or if he’s even alive. He disappeared two weeks ago tomorrow. Could he be trapped somewhere? Maybe. We have to hold out hope. What ideas do you have, Thomas?”
The two men had a largely superficial conversation about the missing President. Torrance advised he had nothing of value to contribute to Brian’s efforts so the conversation moved to the site itself. They discussed the discovery of the artifact and its chamber and Torrance’s interest in archaeology in general. Brian would learn nothing from this conversation except that the man knew a lot more than he was saying. There had to be another, more productive discussion. Brian had to figure out how.
Brian glanced at his watch. It was 6:45 p.m. He excused himself, saying he had to be on a call shortly.
“Say hello to President Harrison,” Torrance laughed. Brian didn’t respond – the call was no one’s business, certainly not the affair of this man he had just met.
Chapter Twenty-Four
At 7:30 Brian laid on the bed in his room, glancing frequently at his phone to be sure he hadn’t somehow missed her. For the third time, or maybe the fourth, he checked the mute button to confirm the phone would ring when Nicole finally called. He tested the ring tone to be sure something wasn’t wrong with it. Seven on the dot, she had said. That was thirty minutes ago. Brian was hungry but didn’t want to walk up to the dining room until he spoke with her. He grabbed a Corona – his third of the evening – from a fridge in the bathroom. Dusk had settled into the jungle and the animal noises began in earnest. Brian opened the French doors wide, allowing a breeze and the night sounds in from the patio. When he was out in the wild he loved this time of day. He found the cacophony interesting, soothing. He lay back on his bed and sipped the cool beer.
Ten minutes later he was about to give up and go eat. His phone rang. He jumped when he heard the sound he’d been waiting for and tried to keep his voice from sounding anticipatory. He counted to five before he answered, hoping to keep Nicole from knowing how much he’d been waiting for her call.
“Hi there.”
“Hi, baby. Sorry I’m late. I guess I say that all the time, don’t I? Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
“No problem.” Brian sounded as casual as he could. “I didn’t even notice what time it was. Where have you…oh, never mind. Busy day?”
“Yeah, another crazy one. After work I had to meet a guy who wants to buy my Mercedes. That took longer than I thought.”
She’s selling her convertible? Brian wanted to ask why but didn’t. Conversations with Nicole felt strange to him lately. He wanted to scream out the questions. Who is this guy? How’d you know he wanted to buy your car? Where did you meet him? Did you all have a drink? All those questions that jealous boyfriends want to ask their beautiful sexy corporate lawyer millionaire girlfriends when they’re sitting in a jungle and she’s in Dallas, Texas “meeting a guy.” But he held himself in check. He would give every ounce of effort to appear nonchalant. Nonchalant like Nicole appeared to be lately. Not like before.
“So Brian, I have a proposition for you. You’re in Palenque. I looked that up on a map and you’re not that far from Cancun. I’ll clear my calendar for three days the end of this week and meet you there when you’re done with your trip. You can have the President’s plane drop you there then fly back with me to Dallas and on to New York.”
“Cancun?” You could hear the disappointment in his voice. “Why Cancun? I thought both of us said we’d never go there again. I thought we agreed we hated that place. It’s too touristy, too ‘all inclusive’, too college-student spring break, too tacky for us. We always go for upscale.”
“Hey, hey. Slow down a sec and give me a chance to show you something. I bet I can change your mind about Cancun. Got your iPad handy?”
Brian retr
ieved it from the desk across the room and came back to the bed. “Ready,” he said.
“Google Manana Beach Resort on the Riviera Maya.”
Brian did, and up popped a website showing a beautiful hotel with luxurious accommodations, white sand beaches, pools and intimate restaurants and bars, some nestled by the ocean.
“It looks good,” he admitted, thinking they all look good on their websites. “Where did you find it?”
“I researched it. For us. Click on ‘gallery’ and let me know what you think about the pictures.”
As Brian looked, he saw what made Manana Beach different. None of the guests in the photo gallery had a stitch of clothing on. Every person was naked, everywhere at the resort. In the bars, the restaurant, the pool, even playing volleyball with other guests.
“It’s clothing optional?”
“Nope, Brian. Better than that. It’s ‘no clothing allowed.’ You aren’t just nude. You’re nude everywhere, every minute. It’s the rule!”
This is more like it! “No shit! And you’d go to a place like that? Where everybody could see every square inch of you?”
“Damn right I would. You know me. I’m usually up for about anything. I did some in-depth checking on this place. They’re very discreet, have an excellent reputation and have never had an incident. I think it sounds like a fun few days together. And your point about everybody seeing me au naturel – well, I guess I could have a little fun seeing every square inch of them too! And so could you! We’d have to watch out around those twenty-something girls. You might have to stay in the pool all day!”
As she talked, Brian felt himself growing as he thought about Nicole’s beautiful naked body. Her perfect breasts, her neatly trimmed hair, her long legs stretching all the way up to…and she continued talking.
Brian Sadler Archaeology 03 - The Strangest Thing Page 11
