Shrouded in Secrets

by Kim McMahill

  “Grab a drink, get comfortable, and let’s give Olivia our undivided attention,” Cash stated as he set the tray on the coffee table. “I’m curious to find out what’s so special about these supposed artifacts and where we might find the rest.”

  Diane picked up a glass of tea and dropped into a turquoise-colored beanbag resting on the floor. Cash smiled at her and she rolled her eyes in return. If so much devastation hadn’t already occurred over a bunch of crystals, he would be enjoying the comical interaction of his newest partner with her intriguing sister. As is, they needed to focus on business and track down some dangerous people before any more innocent civilians died. He squeezed in between Pete and Marjorie on the sofa and focused on Olivia’s soothing voice.

  “First, consider the separate parts. Many cultures, especially the ancient ones, found the representation of the skull to be a very powerful symbol, regardless of the type of material the object was constructed from. Actual human skulls were especially revered. Think of the carvings on countless Mayan temples, depictions on pirate flags, and the various cultures that shrunk heads as a symbol of strength and success. Add the symbolism associated with skulls to a myriad of beliefs about the powers and unique properties of quartz crystal, and you have the stuff of enduring legends.”

  “What do you mean by powers and properties?” Cash asked.

  “I’ll leave the scientific principles to your more qualified staff and stick to lore. For starters, some allege that communication between the human mind and natural quartz crystal is possible through the dissemination of electro-magnetic signals over an unheard wavelength. More popular beliefs claim crystals possess curative and magical powers and have divine origins. The material, regardless of form, has played prominent roles in religious, mystical, and healing rituals. I’ve seen crystal referred to as wild stone, firestone, healing stone, and holy ice, but my favorite is tears of the gods. When the gods looked down and saw the turmoil on earth, it saddened them and they cried. As their tears fell to earth, they transformed into quartz crystal. No matter the name, all relay the mystery and veneration tied to the mineral. I could go on for days about all the theories surrounding crystal, but I understand you are primarily interested in the legendary thirteen, so I’ll focus on those.”

  The group hardly moved, listening to stories about lost continents, talking skulls, alien contact, complex ancient portrait glyphs representing numbers and Mayan gods, sunken continents, and cultural dispersion. For nearly three hours, no one interrupted as Olivia related the Navajo version of the magnificent legend and touched on the variations handed down by other cultures.

  Normally Cash would have scoffed at such a tale, but the way in which Olivia presented the story made it seem like historical fact, rather than myth. By the time she finished, his mind was spinning. He stood and walked to the window, arching his back to stretch the muscles, which had been idle for too long between the flight and sitting on Olivia’s sofa.

  Night had fallen and the stars drew his eyes, making him speculate, for the first time in his life, if the human race living on Earth was truly alone. He turned and met Olivia’s gaze. She was watching him and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. Cash smiled and she quickly averted her eyes.

  “Sweet, sweet Olivia, that’s one story my mates will never believe. You’ll back me up on this one when we get home, won’t you, Marjorie?” Ian asked as he winked at his fellow countrywoman.

  Ian’s term of endearment for Olivia annoyed Cash, and he wasn’t sure why. He had no doubt Ian was friendly with everyone, so he pushed the thought of slugging Ian out of his mind and returned his attention to the present.

  He couldn’t believe he had never even heard of crystal skulls before, since their existence and accompanying legends were widely known among many cultures, including the Navajo, Pueblo, Mayan and Aztec ancestors, and apparently a cult-following of Internet junkies, and a group of ruthless individuals.

  “With the heads being such common knowledge among so many groups, why isn’t their origin more understood?” Pete asked, echoing Cash’s thoughts. “And how did a Mayan artifact find its way to Egypt?”

  “Well, some believe the Mayan people originally possessed all the crystals and brought the magnificent relics to Mexico and Central America from a lost continent after it disappeared into the sea. The artifacts were then dispersed throughout the world in order to keep the sacred knowledge safe and the power from being abused,” Olivia answered.

  “If you’re talking about Atlantis, I thought it was located in the Mediterranean, off the coast of Santorini, so why travel clear to the Americas?” Pete added.

  “That’s the predominant belief, but some evidence supports a Caribbean theory. If you slide the African continent over, the shape almost fits like a jigsaw puzzle piece with Central and South America, supporting the tectonic plate migration model, except for missing fragments in the Gulf of Mexico and the eastern Caribbean. It’s speculated that dozens of islands dotting the area are remnants of the much larger continent of Atlantis. In Plato’s writings, an inconsistency exists between the time when Atlantis reportedly sunk and the violent volcanic eruption on Santorini—which was thought to be the cause—thus in some minds ruling out the Mediterranean theory.”

  “Don’t most scholars think the inconsistent dates are just an error in Plato’s text?” Pete asked.

  “That’s one possibility, but the Caribbean enthusiasts cite a host of other facts and perhaps fantasies. Marlin growing to record size, aircraft mysteriously crashing, and ships sinking under suspicious circumstances, making some believe there is a powerful force under the sea in the Atlantic near the Bahamas and, of course, we’ve all heard about the Bermuda Triangle. The fabled fountain of youth is rumored to exist in the shallow pools of South Bimini in the Bahamas. There is archeological evidence offshore of Paradise Point on North Bimini, which excites speculators. A half-mile of precisely aligned sixteen-foot square limestone blocks, called the ‘Bimini Road’ rests on the sea floor. Some are convinced the stones were placed by humans as a seawall and are proof of a sunken ancient civilization. Some even believe one of the crystals is still hidden within the rubble.”

  Cash studied Olivia as she spoke. Her tone remained steady and her expression neutral, concealing her biases. She seemed to be reporting and nothing more, but he had no doubt she held strong opinions on the subject.

  “I imagine there have been numerous dives in the area, so surely, if a priceless artifact ever existed down there it would have been found,” Cash stated as he walked back toward the group.

  “Many have investigated the area and, in particular, the Bimini Road, not to look for the mythical artifacts, but to find proof Atlantis was in the Caribbean, not in the Mediterranean. Those seeking the relics wouldn’t have known where to search, and anyone who might have an idea where to look would never disturb the object’s resting place. Our ancestors took great care to hide the crystals so their collective power could not be abused.”

  “The relics are now being brought back together by some ruthless group,” Marjorie mused. “I can only imagine the abuse they dream of. This can’t be for money.”

  “No,” Olivia replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s always been about power and knowledge, and often they are one in the same.”

  “Well, unless these maniacs can be stopped, the world will soon find out how much truth the legend holds,” Cash said as he surveyed the group assembled in Olivia’s living room.

  As Cash continued to mull over everything he had just learned, he was no longer certain what he believed. All he knew for sure was that he and his team had to find a way to locate the culprits behind the thefts and put an end to the madness before anyone else died.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  September 25, 12:00 P.M.

  Mexico City, Mexico

  AFTER SEEING THE digital images of the destroyed Asháninka village, and reading the account of the violence relayed to the authorities from th
e lone survivor, Cash questioned his decision to split up his team and send them on dispersed missions. Assuming Olivia was correct, the five remaining relics remained hidden in different locations, and they had no idea which one the thieves would target next. The only thing Cash knew for sure was they were dealing with at least five, possibly seven, ruthless, well-armed individuals capable of horrific violence in order to get what they wanted.

  The commercial flight from Arizona to Mexico City seemed interminable, giving Cash ample time to think and second-guess their plan. He went over and over Olivia’s story in his mind, trying to make sense of the far-flung tale and ascertain if he had caved too easily to Marjorie’s will.

  Diego and Marjorie caught a plane bound for Argentina to investigate the rumored existence of another relic and to tie-in with Diego’s Interpol colleagues. Cash had argued about Marjorie remaining with the team. As a civilian, she didn’t have the training required by agency policy to be a field consultant, and he hated putting her at risk. She reasoned that she could recognize two of the thieves, had seen a crystal artifact previously undocumented, and had already survived a brutal surprise attack. In the end, the determined woman had won and left the country with Diego against Cash’s better judgment.

  Earlier that morning, Ian and Pete boarded the CIA jet and headed to Florida, where they planned to take a small watercraft under the cover of darkness to the island of Bimini in the Bahamas, hopefully avoiding detection by anyone attempting to tail them. Olivia’s story didn’t provide them much to go on, but they thought it was worth a look. Pete had grown up in Florida and had dived in the waters of the area for most of his life, so knew his way around.

  Cash’s confidence in Pete’s ability to deal with a dangerous situation if encountered leaned toward nonexistent, but Ian seemed more than capable of keeping the scientist out of trouble. Reluctantly, Cash had agreed to send Pete and Ian to Florida alone.

  The most concrete lead they had on a relic directed them to Mexico. As the easiest to track down, Cash thought it might be the thieves’ next target, and if so, he wanted to be the one to face the deadly criminals.

  Relief swept over Cash as he and Diane landed in Mexico City. In flight, he had felt helpless, restless, and trapped. When he pictured Olivia’s gentle brown eyes filled with tears of urgency, he wondered if they really were in a race against time. He refused to accept a bunch of crystals possessed the power to inflict massive destruction on the human racethat seemed too melodramatic. But, as Olivia’s voice echoed through his mind, he couldn’t quite shake the fear they were dealing with something much more serious than Director Washburn had indicated. He had the suspicion that a story showing up on the front page of a tabloid was the least of their worries.

  He scanned the area for anyone who might be tailing them as Diane picked up the keys to the rental car and led them outside. His focused remained alert for possible danger until Diane came to an abrupt halt next to a vehicle.

  “Is this the best you could do?” he snarled at Diane as he squeezed his tall muscular frame in behind the wheel of the dented 1990’s four-door coup the rental agent had assigned to them.

  “Quit griping and get to driving. We’re in Mexico, not the U.S. It was either this or a moped, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want me squeezing the air out of your lungs as you navigated this nightmare traffic on a two-wheeled death-trap.”

  Cash shot her another annoyed look, but said nothing else as he followed her directions into the heart of the city. He parked the car in a place where he figured a quick exit was possible, not knowing why the compulsion to do so even entered his mind. Scrutinizing the streets, vehicles, and buildings for any sign of danger, they strolled toward their destination.

  They sat at a sticky table in front of a tiny café, swatting at flies and waiting for their contact to show up. The nagging worry they had inadvertently placed Olivia at risk kept creeping into Cash’s mind, making concentrating on Diane’s words a bit difficult. He doubted their simple overnight visit put her in danger, but something other than the spicy salsa they now snacked on gnawed at his gut. Despite Olivia’s calm, confident tone, all he wanted to do was gather her in his arms and hold her. He wondered if the urge had anything to do with the relics, or was simply his normal reaction to a beautiful woman.

  “Gracias.” Cash nodded to the waitress as she placed two damp and chipped soda bottles on the table. He watched Diane tip the cola back and chug a deep drink as his thoughts returned to her sister.

  Olivia didn’t divulge a possible location for the twelfth crystal, though Cash suspected she had a theory. She offered no guess as to where the thirteenth hid, but had agreed to keep working on its location. Despite needing her help, he hated the idea of yet another civilian involved, even if she was his partner’s sister and remained safely tucked away in her home in Arizona.

  One part of his mind urged him to call her and tell her to do nothing and mention their visit to no one, but the suggestion would be pointless. He sensed Olivia would do everything possible to keep all the legendary artifacts from falling into the wrong hands. Unfortunately, he wasn’t convinced that included giving him her unconditional trust and support.

  Cash often worked with people who didn’t trust each other. With Olivia, he had an uncomfortable need for her to believe in him and hold nothing back. He disliked the feeling and the fact that his mind kept wandering to the beautiful woman—distractions in his line of work could be deadly. He forced thoughts of her out of his head and turned his focus to identifying potential escape routes and possible threats—a topic much more in his comfort zone.

  CHAPTER NINE

  September 25, 1:00 P.M.

  Sedona, Arizona

  OLIVIA SAT ON a worn woven rug in the middle of her sunroom and chanted. Contrary to her sister’s belief, she had no illusion of speaking to spirits. The practice merely helped her to relax and focus her thoughts. Situated at the end of a new cul-de-sac, the glassed-in room at the back of her home faced the red rock desert and allowed her mind to block out the modern world and focus on her ancestors. The colorful formations, low scattered pinyon and juniper, and lack of development always put her in a tranquil mood, enabling her to channel her mental energy to issues in which she needed complete concentration and guidance.

  While napping in this warm, peaceful room not long ago, she envisioned the relics reunited. Ever since Diane called about the stolen artifacts, her thoughts had been in turmoil. Olivia hadn’t mentioned her vision to her sister or to Cash, afraid they would think she was crazy and not take her seriously, but the timing of her dream and the thefts shook her usual calm nature to the core.

  She hoped as long as a few of the crystals remained hidden, a crisis could be averted. She relayed to Cash and his team the most common rumors of where some of the artifacts might be stashed, hoping to help them catch whoever sought the relics and return those already stolen to a safe place, but she hadn’t divulged all she knew—it was far too dangerous.

  Olivia believed in the ancient ways and practiced many of the traditional rituals, though she also relied on modern technology and conveniences as much as the next person. She owned a flat screen television, a DVD player, a smart-phone, and a top-of-the-line computer—which she used for research and an occasional foray into one of a number of legends chat rooms on the Internet. Many topics were silly and the people uninformed, but on one website in particular, she had engaged in a discussion about the crystals. The dialogue had been going on sporadically for the past year, and one participant seemed very knowledgeable on the subject. Eventually, they started exchanging personal messages outside the loop, but she hadn’t heard anything new in over a month.

  Olivia logged onto her computer, found the website where the chat room had been located, and looked through the archives. Nothing in the old discussions existed that she hadn’t already relayed to her sister’s colleagues. Most participants agreed on the general locations of the first eleven artifacts, but debate raged over the hidi
ng places of the twelfth and thirteenth. She reread the comments by the individual with the screen name, “Sultan of Rum.”

  Initially, she paid little attention to Sultan, assuming that “Rum” referred to a Jamaican partier who probably chatted for a lark, but she soon realized Sultan of Rum knew his or her stuff and was well-versed in the legend. Sultan seemed almost desperate for clues to the twelfth and thirteenth crystals’ resting places. By Sultan’s persistence, she doubted he or she had given up the search, unless the relics had been found.

  Like most chat room topics, the debate finally died out, but Olivia thought it might be worth a try to see if anything new had surfaced with her old pal.

  Haven’t seen you on the loop lately. Any leads on lucky thirteen? Maybe we can brainstorm. Would appreciate any information… Desert Blaze.

  Olivia hit the send key and logged out of her email. It was a long shot, but if she could help her sister stop whoever sought to destroy their way of life, she would try. Olivia also decided any information that kept everyone involved as far away from Arizona as possible was a good thing.

  Glancing at her watch, Olivia realized she must get on the road in order to make her appointment with the chief. She needed his advice. Olivia hadn’t seen any harm in relaying information to Diane and Cash that the CIA could have gotten off the Internet with a marginal amount of effort, but she withheld her knowledge of the tribe’s crystal. Her gut instinct reinforced the relic was safest if its existence remained unknown, though she didn’t feel comfortable making a decision of such potential magnitude without a consultation.

  Olivia had never seen the artifact, but the chief had said the object possessed a more human-like resemblance than the others of its kind. The crystal’s forehead sloped sharply, and it sported a large nose and almond-shaped eyes. She had no idea where the Navajo crystal was located, just that the item resided on tribal land in Arizona. Olivia feared even that much information could bring harm to the tribe if leaked. She wanted to trust her sister and the federal authorities, especially Cash, but until she received council otherwise, she vowed to keep her people’s secret safe.