The Death Relic

by Chris Kuzneski

  ‘When did this happen?’

  Hector paused in thought. For him, the last thirty-six hours had been a long nightmare. At some point, one day had run into the next. ‘Yesterday. While we were sleeping.’

  ‘They took your kids from here?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘How did they get in?’

  Hector glared at him. ‘I have no fucking idea! I’m not a detective!’

  He picked up an antique globe and flung it across the room. Solidly constructed from a single piece of metal, the globe struck a series of Aztec masks that were displayed on the far wall. One of the masks was obliterated on impact, and another was damaged when it fell and bounced across the floor. Hector immediately regretted his outburst.

  Other than his kids, those artefacts were his pride and joy.

  Growing up in Mexico City, Hector was fascinated by the history of the Aztecs, an indigenous group that had ruled the region through power and fear. Even as a small boy, when most of his friends were focused on baseball and soccer, he preferred the local museums to the neighbourhood parks. He simply couldn’t get enough of Aztec culture. Eventually, once he reached a point in his life where he had more money than he could possibly spend, he returned to his childhood passion, buying Aztec artefacts by the dozen. The shelves and walls of his library were lined with the relics he had collected in recent years.

  Angel urged him to settle down. ‘Hector, listen to me. I know you’re upset. You have every right to be. I can’t even imagine the terror you’re feeling. But I need you to tell me everything. Not a little. Not a lot. But everything. It’s the only way I can help.’

  A few seconds passed before Hector nodded. Slightly at first, and then a full nod, as if it took that long to finally give in. For a man like Hector, it took a lot to admit that he needed help from anyone, even his best friend. Normally, he had the world by the balls, not the other way around. ‘OK, I’ll tell you. But it doesn’t leave this room.’

  ‘Of course not. This is between us.’

  ‘I’m serious,’ he growled. ‘If this gets out, our enemies will pounce. I can’t afford to show weakness.’

  Angel nodded in agreement. He knew what was at stake.

  Over the next few minutes, Hector filled him in on everything. The phone calls. The threats. The initial request. And worst of all, the silence. Twelve hours had passed since Hector had received a proof-of-life. One from his daughter, but not from his son. Both men had been in the kidnapping game long enough to know that it was probably just a ploy. Nothing more than a scare tactic to speed up negotiations. On the other hand, they had also seen the alternative. Maybe something had happened and the boy was dead.

  Hector tried not to think about it.

  Angel asked, ‘What does your gut tell you?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘The kidnappers. Why did they target you? For money? For power? For revenge?’

  He shrugged. ‘Probably all three.’

  ‘Maybe. Or maybe not.’

  He wasn’t in the mood for games. ‘Explain.’

  ‘If this was about power, why did they go after your kids? They were already in your house. They got past your guards and your security system without detection. If they cared about power, why didn’t they just creep down the hall and shoot you in the head? That would have made a much bigger statement than a kidnapping.’

  Hector glared at him. ‘Are you trying to make me feel better?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I am. In our business, the only way to get power is to take it. They had their chance to steal your crown, but they passed on the opportunity. Why would they do that if they cared about power? The truth is they wouldn’t.’

  Hector shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood to think.

  Angel continued. ‘I think revenge is the most likely reason. You make your living from kidnapping, and someone abducted your kids. I think that’s too coincidental to ignore.’

  ‘You’re probably right.’

  ‘I’m sure money will come into play at some point, but so far they haven’t asked for cash. Or have they?’

  ‘No money. Just the medallion.’

  Angel shook his head. It didn’t make sense to him. Hector had millions upon millions of dollars, but so far the only thing the kidnappers had requested was a relic Hector had bought at a private auction for less than 20,000 dollars. Why would they do that?

  ‘I don’t get it. What’s so special about this medallion?’

  Hector sighed. ‘Everything.’

  14

  Payne had nothing to hide. He truly didn’t know why Maria was calling. The last he’d heard, she had earned her doctorate in archaeology and was living in Italy. Or somewhere near there. He honestly didn’t know because he wasn’t that close to her. Other than a work-related adventure a few years back, the only connection they shared was his pissed-off best friend, who had dated her briefly before things fizzled out. To this day, Payne still didn’t know what had happened between the two of them, because Jones refused to talk about it, but the glare on his friend’s face proved he wasn’t over it. Or her.

  With that in mind, Payne decided to tread cautiously.

  He answered the phone in front of Jones. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Jon, is that you?’

  ‘Yes. Who’s this?’

  ‘It’s Maria Pelati. Do you remember me?’

  ‘Of course I remember you.’ He pointed towards the exit and urged Jones to follow. ‘Hang on just a minute. It’s really loud in here. Let me walk outside so I can hear you better.’

  ‘Please hurry. I think I’m in trouble.’

  Noticing the tension in her voice, Payne pushed his way through the crowd while Jones hustled to keep up. ‘Almost there. Give me two more seconds …’

  Payne opened the door and stepped into the bitter cold. His clothes and hair were quickly coated in snow. Except for two smokers huddled near the doorway for warmth, the sidewalk was completely deserted. On a night like this, even hookers stayed inside. Searching for privacy, Payne glanced in both directions and spotted an empty bus shelter about twenty feet to his left. Although it wasn’t heated, it was better than nothing. Not only would it protect him from the gusting wind, it would save his lungs from the second-hand smoke.

  Payne ignored the elements and headed that way.

  Jones, who was slowed by the crowd and the bouncer, emerged a moment later without his coat or gloves. This time, he didn’t shiver or complain about the weather. His emotions were keeping him warm. A little too warm.

  ‘Where in the hell are you going?’ he shouted.

  ‘In here,’ Payne replied as he ducked into the shelter. Made of tempered safety glass, the walls were covered with ads for local businesses. A wooden bench was bolted to the ground. A fluorescent light glowed overhead.

  ‘Jon, are you there?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m here,’ he assured her as Jones joined him inside the shelter. ‘If it’s OK with you, I’m going to put you on speakerphone, so DJ can listen in.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘David’s there?’

  ‘Yes. Is that a problem?’

  She paused. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Great,’ Payne said, completely ignoring her response. He didn’t care how many problems it caused Maria. There was no way he was going to keep this conversation from Jones. Not with the anger in his best friend’s eyes. Instead of condensation, Payne half expected to see flames coming out of Jones’s nostrils. He was that pissed.

  Payne turned on his speakerphone. ‘You’re on with both of us.’

  She remained silent for the next few seconds, unsure of what to say.

  The moment lingered a little too long for Jones.

  ‘Are you there?’ Jones blurted.

  ‘Yes,’ she said meekly. ‘I’m here.’

  As soon as he heard her voice, the edge in his softened. He could tell something was wrong. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.’

  His
anger quickly turned to concern. ‘Where are you? At home?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m at a hotel.’

  ‘Where’s the hotel?’

  ‘Cancún.’

  ‘Cancún? What are you doing in Mexico?’

  ‘I came here for a job, but …’

  ‘But what?’

  She swallowed hard. ‘Something happened.’

  Jones glanced at Payne, looking for an explanation, hoping he could fill in the details that were currently missing. But Payne was lost for words. He was just as confused as Jones, maybe more so, since he had no idea why she would call him in the middle of the night. Then again, neither did Jones, which was why his temper had flared when he saw her name on Payne’s caller ID. For a few terrible minutes, he had assumed his best friend had betrayed him.

  Jones quickly regained his composure. ‘First things first, are you hurt?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you safe?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘That’s not good enough,’ Jones snapped.

  Payne put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed, urging him to calm down. Anxiety would only heighten the situation. ‘What do you mean by maybe?’

  She tried to explain. ‘I’m locked in my bedroom inside my suite, but I don’t know how safe it is. I think they grabbed him downstairs.’

  ‘Grabbed who?’ Payne asked.

  ‘My boss. His name is Terrence Hamilton.’

  Without delay, Jones punched the name into his smart phone and pulled up as much information as he could from the Internet. Within seconds, he knew Hamilton was an American anthropologist from a prestigious university, and that he specialized in the Maya.

  Payne continued the questioning. ‘Do you know who grabbed him?’

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t see. But he left the restaurant and didn’t come back. He said he would be gone for five minutes – he had to get something from his car – but he never returned. I waited there for an hour. I even ordered a second drink, but he never came back.’

  ‘Did you look for his car?’

  She nodded. ‘It’s still outside my hotel.’

  ‘What hotel?’

  ‘The Fiesta Americana.’

  Payne whistled. ‘Nice place.’

  As a connoisseur of fine hotels, he was familiar with its extravagance. Although he had never stayed there, he knew it was the type of resort that had security guards and hundreds of cameras. That meant that if Hamilton had been snatched from the property grounds, the odds were pretty good that someone knew something. With the right amount of persuasion, Payne was confident they could get to the bottom of things in less than an hour. Maybe two if they needed a translator who wouldn’t faint at the sight of blood. Sometimes they were tough to find.

  ‘Maria,’ Jones said as he re-entered the conversation, ‘we can worry about your boss later. For now, I need to make sure you’re not in danger. Are you safe in your room?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted.

  ‘Why don’t you know?’

  She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. ‘When I came back here, things had been moved around, like someone was looking for something.’

  ‘Could it have been a maid?’ Jones asked.

  ‘No!’ she snapped. ‘It wasn’t a maid! My room was tossed. My clothes are everywhere. And my passport is missing. Someone took it from my nightstand.’

  ‘Your passport was stolen?’

  ‘As far as I can tell – unless it’s buried under this mess.’

  Payne tried to reassure her. ‘Don’t worry about your passport. It happens all the time. We’ll contact your embassy and get you a new one. No problem at all.’

  Maria shook her head. ‘I’m not worried about my passport, I’m worried about Hamilton. I think someone grabbed him when he went to his car.’

  ‘But you didn’t see it?’

  ‘No, I didn’t see it.’

  ‘Then why would someone grab him? Is he rich? Does he have enemies? What can you tell us about him?’

  ‘Not much,’ she admitted. ‘He called out of the blue and hired me for a job that he refused to discuss on the phone – instead he hinted at a major discovery. We were in the middle of discussing the specifics when he disappeared.’

  ‘Hold up!’ Payne demanded. ‘You met the guy today?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you sure he didn’t ditch you?’

  ‘Believe me, that’s the first thing I thought when he didn’t come back to the restaurant. But the more I thought about it, the less sense it made. He was in the middle of telling me about my role in things when he went to his car to get some documents. But his car is still here and he left his briefcase at the table. If he was ditching me, surely he would have taken both.’

  Payne agreed. ‘You’re probably right.’

  ‘Couple that with my room being tossed and …’

  ‘You’re right. It seems suspicious.’

  Jones interrupted them. ‘Speaking of your room, if someone searched it, there’s always the chance they might come back. Did you barricade your door?’

  She nodded. ‘With everything I could find.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Same with the glass door to my terrace. I rolled up newspapers and wedged them in the track so the door can’t slide open.’

  ‘That’s smart. How high is your room?’

  ‘Top floor.’

  ‘Good. That’ll be tough to access from outside.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘What else can I do?’

  Jones shrugged. ‘Not much, unless you want to call the police. But I’ll be honest, the police in Mexico are pretty damn corrupt. I know that from personal experience.’

  ‘No,’ she admitted, ‘I prefer this. I feel safer already.’

  Jones appreciated the sentiment but felt helpless being so far away. ‘You know, it’s funny that you called when you did.’

  ‘Really? Why’s that?’

  Jones snatched the phone from Payne, then turned off the speakerphone so he could talk to her in private. ‘Because Jon and I were looking for somewhere to go this weekend. Somewhere warmer than Pittsburgh.’

  She smiled. ‘I forgot how much you hate the cold.’

  ‘I really do.’

  ‘Not to rub it in, but the weather is gorgeous here. I was going to try out my new bikini this weekend.’

  ‘Me, too.’

  She laughed. ‘I’m serious. This was supposed to be a working vacation. Now I’m stuck in my room, worried for my safety. I feel like such an idiot.’

  ‘Listen,’ Jones said in a soothing voice, ‘I know you aren’t the type of woman who needs to be rescued. Trust me, I know that better than anyone. But it sounds like your boss might be in serious trouble, the kind I can handle. If you like, I’d be more than happy—’

  Payne cleared his throat loudly.

  Jones smiled and corrected himself. ‘I mean, we would be more than happy to come to Cancún to look into things for you. That is, if you’re interested.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, I’m interested.’

  He grinned. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

  15

  Saturday, 11 February

  Because of the winter storm, the Payne Industries jet couldn’t take off from its private airfield until early the next morning. Not only did the runway have to be cleared of snow, the plane had to be de-iced to prevent mechanical failure. Once they got off the ground and above the thick layer of grey clouds, they had a smooth four-hour flight all the way to Cancún.

  Having called ahead, a silver SUV was waiting for them at the hangar when they landed in Mexico. Payne handled the paperwork while Jones tossed their bags into the trunk and entered the hotel address into the vehicle’s satelite navigation system. Less than thirty minutes later, they were pulling up to the Fiesta Americana, where they were greeted by a valet and zero mariachi bands. To them, that was a good thing. No one should be forced to listen to trumpets before noon. />
  So as not to scare Maria, Jones called her from the lobby to let her know they were on the way up to her suite. By the time they got there, she had pulled the furniture away from the door and put down the steak knife she had clutched throughout the night. For her, sleep had been next to impossible. She had dozed off once or twice while reading a book on the Maya, but the smallest sound in the hall or outside her window had caused her to wake in a panic.

  All in all, it had been a dreadful night.

  Just before dawn, as the sun struggled to rise above the distant horizon, she tried to recall the last time she couldn’t fall asleep because of fear. Was it during a thunderstorm when she was a child? Or the first time she went camping alone? Eventually, she reached an ironic conclusion, one that put a smile on her face and let her know that everything would be all right.

  For as long as she could remember, she had always loved the proverb, ‘God works in mysterious ways.’ Her mother had taught it to her at an early age, and Maria believed it with all her heart – so much so that she had said it thousands of times over the years. Despite the constant repetition and her steadfast belief in its message, she was still amazed whenever the adage proved true. And in her mind, this was one of those times. Why? Because the last time fear had kept her awake was the night she had met Payne and Jones in Milan.

  A night they had hunted her like prey.

  A night they had threatened to kill her.

  Now they were there to protect her.

  Jones knocked softly on the door. ‘Maria, it’s us.’

  ‘Just a minute,’ she said as she glanced through the peephole.

  Jones stood at the front, a forced smile on his worried face as he did his best to put a positive spin on a bad situation. Behind him, Payne loomed in the background. A quiet pillar of strength, he stood there with his arms crossed, muscles bulging against his sleeves, his eyes looking for trouble. If possible, he was even bigger than she remembered.

  Years had passed since she had last seen them, and a lot of things had changed. But at that moment, as she stood there with her eye against the lens and the doorknob in her hand, she knew one thing had remained the same: her feelings for both of them.