Treasure of the Mayan King (2012)

by Alehandro

  Marlo stood up, sighed, and pulled on his gloves and jacket. “It won’t be easy to tell her. I’m not sure how she’ll react to more bad news.”

  Kelly stared at the floor, then looked up and saw Marlo slowly heading for the door. “Anita, eh?” he asked.

  “Yes, Anita. This is breaking her heart.”

  Kelly winced. “She was good to me too. She fed me well when I worked for Chauncy.”

  “She is going through a horrible ordeal,” Marlo said.

  Kelly clenched his teeth. “She was such a sweetheart. I will never forget her kindness.”

  “There is only one way to show your appreciation.” Marlo pleaded .

  Kelly’s face was downcast. “I know.”

  There was a moment of silence. Marlo sensed he was done. He figured the old man wasn’t going to budge, so he slowly made his way out the door. He turned to see him still sitting there all forlorn. Marlo silently berated himself. Had he come all this way just to fail in his mission? It was too much for him to bear. Standing out in the cold he spread his arms out in a pleading gesture. “Come on! You gotta come with me! There’s no way can go back empty handed! I can help you, man. I’m serious. I can walk you through this. Just don’t let Anita down!”

  Kelly peered pensively at Marlo.

  Marlo sensed Kelly was going to capitulate. “Anita was crying when I left her!”

  Kelly finally broke. “Ah! You drive a hard bargain, son. Anita has always been very good to me. I suppose I can’t break her heart, can I?”

  Marlo grinned as he turned to face Kelly. “Got any plans?”

  Kelly scratched his chin as he went into deep thought. “Well, I got a buddy down in Belize, he was my gunner back in “Nam. He’s different from me - he loves the jungle! But he don’t like the States, he says there is too much racism you know, “cause he’s black. So he decided to move to Belize, “cause they speak English there. Anyhow, he’s a chopper mechanic and I know he can set us up with a good bird.”

  “So you’ll really do it, Mr. Sorenson?”

  A smile crept across the older man’s face. “Call me Kelly, and I suppose so! But I don’t suppose you got a plane ticket for me?”

  “Actually, Anita insisted. I don’t know if she knew or just hoped. You’d best grab anything you want to take with you.”

  Kelly walked to a dresser in the hallway. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a passport and a dirty white envelope. Glancing inside the envelope, he smiled and shoved it in his shirt pocket.

  Kelly returned to the living room. “Chauncy ain’t no dummy, son,” he said as he patted the pocket that contained the envelope. “He knew I was the best one to help him outta this mess. Now if you’ll be so kind as to stop by my neighbor’s on our way to the airport, I can tell him to look after my hogs, dogs, and cats.”

  As the two drove down the gravel road, dark storm clouds filled the sky. But for Marlo, the future looked just a little brighter.

  Chapter Eight

  Blindfolded and handcuffed, Chauncy tried to stay calm. He kept in mind that they needed him alive to find the money. At the top of the stairs their footsteps echoed, as if in a large empty warehouse. A moment later he heard the telltale squeaking of a large door sliding open.

  His senses were assaulted by the hot humid jungle air and the sounds of nature. Both were so different from the cool quiet of his basement prison. Even through his blindfold he could see the sunlight as they stepped from the warehouse. A guard held his head down and pushed him into a vehicle as its engine roared to life.

  After quite a while, the vehicle they were in stopped and they transferred to another. To Chauncy’s horror, this time it was a small plane. As much as he hated flying, flying blindfolded was even worse.

  After Chauncy survived the flight and the landing there was the careening down a bumpy road in yet another vehicle. His captors finally removed the blindfold. He blinked against the harsh sunlight. He was in a Humvee with Domingo, Madrid and the two bodyguards. Thick vegetation surrounded the dirt road they drove on.

  “We will be in Palenque in twenty minutes,” Madrid announced. “From that point onward you will direct us to the pyramid.”

  “What about military roadblocks? Or tourists?” Chauncy asked.

  Santo smiled. “Not to worry; that has all been dealt with.”

  “Temporarily,” Madrid said, glaring at him in the mirror. “I hope we are not delayed.”

  Chauncy looked out the window. “I hope so too.”

  Twenty minutes later, the Humvee stopped in a clearing in the jungle. Though it had been a long time, Chauncy recognized the area immediately. The guard and the driver were the first out, their weapons sweeping the area. They motioned all-clear and the others got out of the vehicle. The guards motioned Chauncy to the back of the Humvee, where they removed two large suitcases - and a set of ankle chains. The driver removed the handcuffs while the other guard shackled Chauncy’s legs, then handed him the suitcases to carry.

  “Quickly!” Madrid snapped. “Where to?”

  Chauncy took a quick look at their map. “Temple #22 is straight ahead of us down this path.”

  As the group made their way through the jungle, the howling of monkeys and screeching of birds mixed with the unceasing whirring and clicking of millions of insects.

  They passed smaller ruins covered with vegetation, where the jungle choked out man’s incursions. The giant roots of ancient trees had long since tumbled these glorious buildings into disjointed masses of bricks. Like a mighty hand, the vegetation was slowly dismantling all traces of a once-powerful civilization.

  “Do you know why the Maya disappeared?” Chauncy asked no one in particular as they continued their trek.

  “No, why?” gasped Santo between breaths.

  “It was due to deforestation, ecological disasters, hunger, war, overpopulation, mass migration to cities, less farmers in the rural areas, less production of food. They trusted in their gods to save them, and so they built more temples. The elite class was so isolated from the common worker that soon their society collapsed, the mighty empire vanished. There are many similarities with our generation, the same things are occurring today on a global scale. The only difference is that the gods have changed. The god that people worship today is money.”

  Santo simply grunted.

  Stopping abruptly, Chauncy pointed and said, “There it is; Temple #22!”

  He stared at the temple that had made such an impact on his life five years earlier, rising high above the jungle canopy, defying Nature’s death grip on the lesser ruins. Centuries of wear and tear from the elements had removed any sharp features of the structure, but not its regal splendor.

  After trudging through the heat of the jungle the climb up the steep stairs was excruciating. They stopped to rest more than once. Reaching the final step they passed under a stone canopy. Chauncy mentioned that this was probably where the priests performed their rituals.

  Madrid wasn’t interested in a history class. He walked back and forth under the canopy looking down. “Where’s the entrance?” he demanded.

  Chauncy pointed to the floor. “Right here; see these flagstones?”

  Madrid snapped his fingers and pointed to the flagstones. The guards swung their guns onto their backs and began pulling on the stones.

  Headlamps strapped in place, four of them descended the triangular shaped tunnel. One guard remained outside while the other led the way down, his weapon at the ready. Despite the darkness and humidity of the tunnel Chauncy smiled, remembering the excitement of the first time he had come down this tunnel with Dr. Sova.

  “What do we find at the bottom?” Santo asked. “Are the remains of the Mayan King still down there?”

  “Of course not, King Chac’s remains have been in a museum in Mexico City for the past five years, along with the sarcophagus, stone cover, and all the jewelry and other artifacts that had been found. All that is left down here are these steps and perhaps, one million dollars.
”

  After what seemed like ages, the stairs ended and they entered the stifling darkness of the crypt. It was larger than the cramped stairs they had just descended, about twelve feet across.

  Chauncy dropped the suitcases and crawled along the floor, peering closely at every crack. “It said ‘under him it must be,’ so I think it must be under the crypt. Ahh, I think I found a loose stone - come here!”

  The guard helped him wipe away the sand covering the flagstones. One of them was indeed loose, and the guard ordered Chauncy to move out of the way as he lifted it up.

  “How did Dr. Sova accomplish this task by himself?” Santo mused.

  “He knew a lot of people who worked in this area. He could have bribed them to keep silent. Knowing him, he could have opened the temple in a sequential order, not disclosing the reason to his workers and then placed the money in the temple by himself.” Chauncy answered.

  Santo grunted with approval at Chauncy’s explanation. “Makes sense.”

  Underneath the stone was a square niche, and within this niche were two large wooden crates, their lids strapped shut. Even Chauncy was excited as the guard heaved one of the boxes from its niche and pried open the top.

  Madrid was the first to react. “Ha! It’s the money! We found the money!”

  Chauncy let out a sigh of relief as he stepped back and watched. The men yelled and whooped with excitement as they clenched the money in their fists.

  As the initial excitement passed, Madrid barked an order, “Quickly, get out the other box and fill the suitcases with the money. We have to get out of here!”

  It was late at night when the crew finally arrived back at the basement where Chauncy had been for that past week. Santo led him down to his room and told him that they would be leaving in two days; there were now many things to prepare. Santo also promised that they would release him at that time, but for now he should rest.

  Chauncy hit the bed in sheer exhaustion. They had made him walk all the way back to the vehicle carrying two heavy suitcases full of money with his legs bound in chains. On top of that, his body was covered with insect bites, his arms and face were sunburned, and he had not eaten well.

  He was miserable, physically and emotionally. He had no way of knowing if his wife had actually figured out his encrypted message. What if she hadn’t? What if his plan wasn’t working? What if they decided to kill him?

  The next day Santo and his guards came into the room. He was holding a letter and a book. “Your wife is a very smart lady, Mr. Rollock.”

  “What do you mean, Mr. Domingo?” Chauncy’s heart pounded. Do they know? Did they find out about the message?

  Santo walked up to Chauncy and then turned to the desk. “She’s a smart lady and also religiously inclined, wouldn’t you say?”

  Careful what you say! Chauncy thought. His heart pounded so hard that he imagined that Santo could hear it. He offered a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I suppose; depends on the week. Why do you say that?”

  “She left a Bible and a letter for you at the front desk of her hotel. She assumed, correctly, that our courier would pick them up and deliver them to us.”

  Chauncy licked suddenly dry lips, fearful of how to answer.

  Santo continued. “We took the liberty, Mr. Rollock, of reading the letter and also examined the Bible, but we have found nothing wrong with them. You are now welcome to these two items. Early tomorrow morning, around three, we are leaving for good.”

  When Chauncy was alone again, he leaned against the wall, his heart pounding so fiercely it was difficult to breathe. When he had calmed down enough to walk to the desk, he picked up the letter with a trembling hand and read it:

  Dear Chauncy,

  I hope that all is well with you. We have been praying for your safe return. I hope the following scriptures will bring you relief. You will see from them how God’s message comes together for your comfort.

  Matthew 10:8

  Proverbs 30:1

  Exodus 2:23

  Exodus 16:1

  And the second set of scriptures will be of great spiritual comfort too.

  Joshua 10:9

  Genesis 8:9

  Exodus 8:6

  Please keep safe. I love you and hope to see you soon.

  Your loving wife,

  Anita

  Chauncy found himself grinning as he read the letter. I used to play this with her when we were away from each other. If it wasn’t the Mayan Code, it was the Bible Code!

  He quickly started to look up the scriptures. In each, one word was underlined softly in pencil.

  Matthew 10:8 “…you received free, give free.”

  Proverbs 30:1 “…the weighty message…”

  Exodus 2:23 “…their cry for help kept…”

  Exodus 16:1 “…coming out of the land of Egypt.”

  Joshua 10:9 “…against them by surprise.”

  Genesis 8:9 “…brought it inside the ark.”

  Exodus 8:6 “…frogs began to come up and cover the land of Egypt.”

  Chauncy smiled and read the underlined words:

  “Received-message-help-coming-surprise-inside-cover.”

  She translated my message! She did it! But what was this “surprise-inside-cover”?

  Opening the Bible he carefully ran his fingers up and down inside the front cover. He felt a slight bump. Something was glued inside the cover! Glancing around nervously, he took the Bible and the note with him into the bathroom. Working carefully, he managed to slice open the binding with the razor from his shaver.

  A wafer-thin microchip about one inch-square fell out onto the sink.

  A large grin spread across Chauncy’s face as his eyes widened. Of course, a micro-transmitter! How brilliant. This has to belong to Kelly - that’s how he’s going to track me down! He most likely will be using a helicopter to rescue me!

  Chauncy pulled off one of his shoes. Using the razor he cut a small opening in the shoe’s leather for the transmitter and hid it inside. He ripped the paper containing the decoded scriptures into tiny pieces and flushed them down the toilet.

  That night he slept soundly.

  Chapter Nine

  Fuming, Captain Gustavo De Leon glared at the newspaper stand.

  Is “The Incorruptible” Blameless?

  or

  Is “The Incorruptible” Corrupt?

  When it wasn’t the media, it was the government pressuring him to apprehend Jose Padilla Madrid. And then there was the American Embassy. It seemed that George Hawkins had a personal vendetta. De Leon had heard that Hawkins was trying to get “The Incorruptible” removed from office, charging De Leon with incompetence and fraud. It was only a matter of time before the bubble burst. He had some evidence that the Mexican military had not been involved. But he needed the complete picture to prove his case, and for the moment, he did not have it.

  Arturo kept hitting dead ends as he investigated every possible lead. He knew that some members of his unit had turned their back on their captain. They had been paid off handsomely, De Leon was sure, in order to remain quiet or destroy evidence regarding Madrid”s whereabouts. The captain was furious.

  Scowling, he walked into the office lobby. He picked up a newspaper and saw a picture of Mr. Hawkins in a front-page article. He glanced over the article, which read:

  Take the Corrupt Ones out of office!

  George Hawkins, a representative of the United States Embassy says: “How can our government have trust in your government if corruption continues unabated? Where are the leaders of the military? Why should….

  De Leon didn’t bother to finish reading. He threw the newspaper into the trash. Idiot.

  As he crossed to his office, Laura greeted him cheerfully. “Good morning, Captain.”

  “What’s so good about it?” he grumbled as he walked into his office and slammed the door behind him.

  He dropped wearily into his chair. Surrounded by plaques, awards, and photographs of him shaking hands with visiting d
ignitaries, he thought about all of the years he had served so well.

  And for what? he asked himself. It’s all going down the drain anyway.

  He logged onto his computer and checked his voice mail while he waited.

  “You have twenty messages,” the recorded voice announced.

  Probably all complaints. He thought. Unfortunately he was right. Now he had to check his e-mail, equally certain there would be nothing but complaints. Sipping his coffee, he waded through the first four messages with grim determination. The fifth message, though, was different. It was written in English, and his interest grew rapidly as he read it:

  Dear Mr. De Leon,

  My name is Anita Rollock. My husband, Chauncy Rollock, is the well-known archaeologist who co-wrote a book entitled “The Mayan Mystery, Solved!” five years ago.

  We’re vacationing in Cancun my husband was kidnapped. I received a note from the abductors warning us not to contact the authorities. Just a few days ago I received a DVD that had a recording of Chauncy telling me that he was safe, which included an encoded message for me. He indicated that I should get help from a friend in the United States, but that I should also inform you that the person who abducted him was Jose Padilla Madrid. He is somewhere in Yucatan.

  We were able to smuggle a small tracking device to my husband. We’ve organized a mission to follow it and rescue him.

  Please assist us in any way you can, I fear for my husband’s life. Do not try to contact me in Cancun; I have a hunch that someone here at El Mirador may be working for Madrid.

  Desperately needing your help,

  Anita Rollock

  He closed his eyes, rubbed them, and then opened them again and stared at the message on his screen. He printed out the message and read it again. What if this is a prank?

  He looked up the number for the El Mirador in Cancun. Using his untraceable private number, he called.

  “Good morning and thank you for calling the El Mirador Hotel. How may I help you?” a cheerful female voice asked.

  “Yes, good morning,” De Leon said, in what he hoped was a disguised voice. He figured his voice was well known due to the interviews on television. “Can you tell me if a Mr. Rollock has checked into your hotel?”