‘Maybe he went rogue.’
‘Rogue?’
‘It would explain a lot, including his need for cheap talent. He lured four of us to Cancún with a suite and a plane ticket. The crafty bastard.’
Payne glanced at Maria. For now, she was sitting quietly next to Ulster, but he knew it was only a matter of time before she left her seat and asked what was going on. ‘Speaking of which, who is going to tell Maria?’
‘I vote for Petr. Definitely Petr. It’s tough to stay mad at Petr.’
Payne laughed. ‘Chicken.’
‘You’re damn right I’m chicken. She knows I won’t shoot her. Without that threat, there’s no way I can protect myself.’
‘Just so you know, I’m willing to shoot her.’
‘Then you should tell her.’
Payne smiled. ‘In all seriousness, I will if you want me to.’
Jones weighed the offer. ‘Thanks, but no thanks. She needs to hear it from me. It will go down easier coming from me.’
‘You’re probably right.’
‘But do me a favour. Keep your rifle loaded, just in case.’
After switching seats with Ulster, Jones filled Maria in on the pertinent details of the last few hours. Her face flushed with embarrassment when she realized that she’d been manipulated. Jones assured her that she wasn’t alone – that everyone, including Hamilton, had been deceived in one way or another – and they would confront the mastermind together. For the briefest of moments, she felt better about the situation. And then she asked the question.
‘Who set us up?’ she wondered.
Jones grimaced. ‘That’s where things get messy.’
‘Messy? What do you mean?’
‘You aren’t going to like it.’
‘Who is it?’ she demanded.
‘Charles Boyd.’
She heard the name and winced. It hit her like a punch to the gut – one she didn’t expect. After years of denial, she knew she’d be forced to deal with some issues that had never gone away. She had done her best to bury them, but they were still there, lurking deep inside her psyche, like a childhood trauma she had just remembered. Her heart raced. Her hands perspired. Her face turned pale. Jones wasn’t sure if she was going to pass out or explode with rage, but he was prepared for either possibility. Instead, she did something that surprised him. She took a few deep breaths, then nodded her head in acceptance.
‘Is he in the cockpit?’ she asked.
He studied her face. ‘Why?’
‘I’d like to talk to him.’
He arched his brow. ‘Is this some kind of trick?’
‘Trick?’
‘Are you pretending to be calm so I lower my defences?’
‘Not at all,’ she assured him as the colour gradually returned to her face. ‘I’d honestly like to talk to him. There are some questions I’d love to ask. It’s been a long time.’
‘How long?’
‘Years.’ Her mind drifted back to the days after their discovery in Orvieto. Back then, she was still in graduate school, a few years from her doctorate, and Boyd was still her mentor. ‘He told me he had to return to the States to clear his name from all the rumours. He said he would be back in a couple of weeks, but …’
‘What?’
‘He never came back. No calls, no emails. Nothing. I haven’t talked to him since.’
Jones swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t know that.’
She laughed bitterly. ‘How could you know? I didn’t tell anyone. After that, I went into hiding for a very long time. I cut off contact from my friends. I was too ashamed to tell anyone.’
‘Ashamed? Why would you be ashamed?’
‘Why do you think? My father made up those rumours about him. It cost him his job. It cost him his reputation. It cost him everything. I wouldn’t want to talk to me, either.’
‘Hold up! You’re blaming yourself for your father’s actions? Pardon me for saying so, but that’s crazy. The man killed your mother. He tried to kill you. He tried to kill all of us. None of us blame you for what he did. You have to know that. None of it was your fault.’
Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘Yeah, but—’
He cut her off. ‘No buts. That’s it. End of story. I’ll shout it to the heavens until the day I die. You are not to blame for your father’s actions. You are not to blame for your brother’s death. And you are not to blame for Boyd’s departure. The guy was an operative in the CIA. He lied to you for years. There are a million possible reasons for his disappearance, none of which have anything to do with you. And if he tries to blame you, I’m going to shoot the bastard.’
Maria said nothing. Instead, she reached out with both hands, grabbed Jones behind the head and pulled him in for a kiss. A long, passionate kiss. It was so unexpected it left him gasping for air. When it was over, she leaned back in the seat and flashed him a smile.
‘Sorry about that. Had to be done. I hope you’re not mad.’
Jones shook his head, unable to speak.
Ulster saw the kiss from across the chopper. A romantic at heart, he was thrilled by the development. He was rooting for the pair to get back together. He elbowed Payne in the ribs to make sure he saw it. ‘I think David might get lucky.’
Payne grumbled. ‘I hope they wait until after we land.’
Ulster continued to stare. ‘I don’t.’
68
Mérida, Mexico
(74 miles west of Chichén Itzá)
The helicopter landed in a field on the outskirts of Mérida, the capital city of the Yucatán. With access to several ports to the north, an international airport to the south, and a population of more than a million people, Mérida was a great place for a safe house.
Boyd climbed out of the cockpit and signalled for everyone to join him inside a small, cinderblock building. Concealed by trees and camouflage netting, which had been draped over the roof, the structure was invisible from the air. Payne eyed it suspiciously, wondering what the CIA was trying to hide. He would find out soon enough.
One by one, they filed into the lone room and took seats in collapsible wooden chairs that sat underneath cheap banquet tables. A portable chalkboard, covered by a canvas tarp, sat against the wall across from the only door. Ulster rubbed his hands together in anticipation, anxious to see what was written underneath. Meanwhile, Maria was anxious for a different reason. She was eager to question Boyd, who had done everything to avoid eye contact with her. He realized they needed to talk, but he wanted to wait until after his briefing.
He walked to the front of the makeshift classroom and faced the group. He did not smile or frown. His face was neutral. Ulster and Hamilton were sitting at the first table. Maria and Jones were at the second. Payne remained standing by the door, the rifle in his hands. The only one who wasn’t there was Tiffany, who had duties to perform outside.
Boyd cleared his throat and was ready to begin.
Maria never gave him a chance. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Excuse me?’ he said.
‘None of us have heard from you in years. Now, after all of that time, you resurface to screw with our lives. Where have you been?’
‘I’ll get to that in a moment, Maria, but first—’
She interrupted him. ‘Actually, that’s Dr Pelati. Or haven’t you heard? I finished my doctorate a while back. No thanks to you.’
‘No thanks to me?’ The words stung more than she could possibly have known. ‘I realize you’re harbouring some animosity towards me over my disappearance. However, I don’t believe this is the time or place to discuss such personal matters.’
Payne spoke up. ‘I disagree. I think this is the perfect time.’
She glanced over her shoulder. ‘Thank you, Jon.’
Jones nodded. ‘I’d like to know, too. Where have you been?’
Ulster chimed in. ‘I think it’s a reasonable question.’
Boyd clenched his jaw. This wasn’t how he had imagined it. He had a detailed lectur
e planned, similar to the ones he had written when he was still a professor. Now he would have to scrap it for an informal Q&A. ‘All right, Dr Pelati. I shall honour your request and answer your query. After all this time, it’s the least I can do.’
‘You can say that again,’ she said bitterly.
He took a deep breath. This would be more difficult than he had thought. He hadn’t been expecting so much anger. ‘Where would you like me to start?’
‘How about the moment you abandoned me? You left me at the Archives and said you would return in two weeks. But it’s been – oh, I don’t know – years. Why didn’t you come back for me like you promised?’
He shrugged. ‘I wasn’t allowed.’
‘Why not?’
‘The Agency felt my time had run its course in Europe. After all the negative publicity I had received, they no longer felt I could be an effective operative.’
‘You were fired?’
He shook his head. ‘Reassigned.’
‘Why didn’t you call?’
‘I wasn’t allowed to call. I wasn’t allowed to write. They ordered me to distance myself from Orvieto. They felt a clean break was the only way to proceed. They made me promise not to call or contact you in any way, so I did what they asked – as hard as that was to do.’
‘You should have made them understand! One call would have made all the difference in the world. At least I would have known you cared.’
He spoke from the heart. ‘I do care about you, but I simply couldn’t risk it at the time. They were watching me too closely. As hard as this is to accept, the CIA was my life. From the time I was a boy, the only thing I wanted to be was a spy. I never dreamed of being an astronaut or an athlete, a cowboy or a fireman. I just wanted to be a spy. Along the way, I picked up other passions, such as archaeology and history, but my main focus has always been the Agency.’
‘In other words, you cared more about your career than me.’
‘Maria, I hope you realize that working for the Agency isn’t like working for IBM. There are codes you must follow, rules you must obey. If you don’t, co-workers can die. Innocent civilians can die. If you stray outside the lines, the Agency won’t fire you. They’ll lock you up and throw away the key. If you don’t believe me, ask Jonathon or David.’
She looked at Jones, who nodded reluctantly.
Boyd continued. ‘Think about what I gave up to follow the Agency’s directives. You and I had just made a major archaeological discovery, one that threatened to rewrite the history of Christianity. Don’t you think I wanted to be a part of that? After all the time we’d spent in the field, do you know how difficult it was to walk away from Orvieto? It ripped my heart out, but I did it willingly and without remorse. Do you know why?’
‘Because they asked you to.’
‘Partly. But also because of you.’
‘Me?’ she said, confused.
He nodded. ‘The Agency is very territorial. If they knew I had discovered the catacombs on the company’s dime, they would have demanded compensation. That would have affected you and Petr, and all of the scholars who had a chance to study our findings at the Archives. Ultimately, I did the selfless thing and walked away.’
‘That’s absurd! How could the CIA stake a claim in Orvieto? To get a piece of the pie, they would have had to admit that you were an operative, and there is no way they would’ve done that.’
He shook his head. ‘They wouldn’t have to admit anything. They would get their money through backdoor channels, funnelling it through their shell companies.’
To fund black operations (off-the-book missions), government organizations have to get their financing from non-public sources. Often fake companies are established to help foot the bills. The FBI has Red River Mining, the Navy has Pacific Salvage and the Pentagon has several dozen companies, some of which enabled units like the MANIACs to carry out their missions.
Boyd continued, ‘While teaching at Dover, I received regular stipends from one of these shells, a company called American Cargo International. Had I stayed in Europe to study the catacombs, I am confident that the CIA would have made things difficult for all of us. So I did the honourable thing and fell on my sword.’
‘Meaning?’
‘I told the director you had made the discovery, and I was merely a faculty advisor along for the ride. If not for your surname, I doubt he would have believed me. In truth, I’m not sure he did believe me. However, due to the murder of your father and the scandal that followed, he ordered me to walk away in order to keep the Agency clean.’
Maria stared at Boyd, trying to decide if his explanation was plausible. Eventually, she decided it was. ‘For the time being, let’s pretend that’s what happened – that you walked away from Orvieto for mine and Petr’s sake, and all the scholars of the world. You still haven’t answered my original question. Where have you been?’
‘I’ve been here.’
She glanced around the room. ‘In this shed?’
He shook his head. ‘In Mexico.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Working as an archaeologist.’
‘I thought you still worked for the Agency.’
‘I do work for the Agency. I work for them as an archaeologist. After the events of Orvieto, the director wanted me as far away from Europe as possible. They considered the Far East for a while, but decided against it since I didn’t have the language skills or the theological background to be effective. Africa was also considered, but once again it proved to be a poor fit for my skill set. Ultimately, they decided that Mexico was the best place for my rebirth.’
‘Why Mexico?’ Jones wondered.
‘I am an expert in Christianity, I speak fluent Spanish and, above all else, I told them I had some leads I wanted to pursue.’
‘What kind of leads?’
‘Archaeological leads.’
Jones ordered him to stop. ‘Let me see if I’ve got this straight. For the past several years, you’ve been working for the CIA as an archaeologist? Not an operative pretending to be an archaeologist, but an actual archaeologist?’
Boyd nodded. ‘As I mentioned, my name and face were too recognizable to continue clandestine operations in the traditional sense, so the CIA redefined my position. With me at the helm, they launched a new company that specializes in archaeological endeavours. Technically speaking, it isn’t a shell company that only exists on paper. Instead, it is a front company, one with legitimate operations that are used to conceal covert activities. The name of the company is Global Archaeological Enterprises.’
Jones considered the acronym. ‘Your company’s name is GAE?’
Ulster ignored the question. ‘I’m actually familiar with your enterprise. You’ve made some solid discoveries. I recall a decent haul in Chile. And another one in Malta.’
‘We’ve done pretty well – certainly well enough to keep the Agency happy. In addition to the income stream, we have placed operatives around the globe in a variety of positions. The company has been a win-win for everyone.’
Payne spoke up. ‘Then why did you just blow its cover?’
Boyd glanced at him. ‘Excuse me?’
‘As far as I know, DJ and I are the only people in this room with security clearance. If your company is so successful, why did you just blow its cover?’
‘Trust me, Jonathon, if there was any other way, I would have kept that information to myself. However, considering the business proposal I’m about to offer you, I could see no way around it. You needed to know the truth.’
Maria rolled her eyes. ‘Proposal? After all this time, you’re going to offer us a proposal? You have got to be joking! Why in the world would we get into business with you?’
‘Because it’s the right thing to do.’
‘The right thing? Coming from you that means nothing.’
‘Actually, it will mean quite a lot once you hear the proposal. I’m fairly certain you will be happy with the terms.’
She cro
ssed her arms across her chest. ‘Happy? I doubt anything that you say will make me happy. I’m a long way from happy.’
‘Same here,’ Payne said, ‘but what have we got to lose? He’s already lured us to Mexico. We might as well listen to what he has to say. That is, if it’s OK with you.’
Maria didn’t speak. She just nodded.
‘Go on, Charles. We’re waiting. What’s your proposal?’
Boyd glanced around the room, making eye contact with one person after another. Finally, his eyes settled on Maria. He stared at her for several seconds before he spoke. ‘We’re this close to uncovering one of the most important treasures in the history of the Americas, and I need your help to claim the prize.’
69
Maria was confused by the statement. ‘What treasure?’
Boyd ignored the question. ‘Tell me, Maria, what do you know about shared perspectives?’
She groaned in frustration. Back when she was his student, Boyd had an annoying habit of evading her questions by asking questions of his own. Nothing was easy with him. He made her work for everything. One question from her would lead to five questions from him, each more difficult than the last. In the long run, it taught her to think for herself. But at the time it was frustrating as hell. Even simple questions – like, what time is it? – would lead to ten-minute discussions. Eventually she learned that the best way to shut him up was to front-load her answers. That way, the more she appeared to know, the less he would question her.
‘I know quite a bit,’ she said cockily, trying to rub his nose in all she had learned without him. ‘We were discussing the concept earlier today. Petr used a hypothetical bombing of the city of Jerusalem to illustrate the importance of different perspectives to understand the true history of an event. Up until now, everything we know about the conquest of Mexico has been told from the Spanish point of view. They wrote the history books, so they controlled what we know about that particular chapter. Without a detailed account of the Maya side of the conquest, we only know half the story.’
The Death Relic Page 35
