Shrouded in Secrets

by Kim McMahill

  The ultra-strong high-tech filament line gave way, and his body skidded to an abrupt halt. He glanced up in time to see the mule disappear over the ledge, dust and rocks flying up behind frantic hooves as the terrified animal fled the danger.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  September 29, 7:00 P.M.

  Salta, Argentina

  MARJORIE WATCHED AS Diego picked the simple lock on the back door to the cathedral. They had waited until the cleric who lived in a small room inside the church went out, as he did each evening, to minister to the poor at a nearby mission. From a woman who also worked the nightly food service, they learned he usually helped for at least three hours, which didn’t leave much opportunity to search. Marjorie knew they needed a lot of luck to locate the relic in this immense space in such a short time frame and discounted the possibility of divine intervention after breaking in.

  The building opened to tourists every day except Sunday, in order for visitors to enjoy the magnificent architecture and artwork. Earlier in the day, they took advantage of the occasion to scope out the interior in the daylight. The stunning pink and cream façade on the outside of the structure only hinted to the beauty housed within. The gold, copper, red, and turquoise colors decorating the interior took Marjorie’s breath away, humbling her and giving her an even deeper sense of remorse for their planned violation.

  They had sat in the front pew for over half an hour. Marjorie’s eyes took in the intricate detail, the gold-gilded pedestal behind the altar, and the soaring arched ceiling. She marveled at the exquisite architecture, but she sensed Diego was scrutinizing every doorway and opening for much more practical purposes.

  After departing with the rest of the tourists, they compared observations and decided the artifact most likely hid somewhere other than the main part of the cathedral. Miguel’s father had never lived in the church, but had cleaned it in exchange for his room and board at the mission. The task of stashing the crystal in the heavily used public part of the structure would have been risky. A more logical hiding place would have been somewhere he accessed regularly with less likelihood of being discovered, which still left too much area to search.

  “Ready to split up?” Diego asked.

  Marjorie nodded. She didn’t want to leave his side, but they had a lot of space to cover in a short time.

  “You search the lower level, and I’ll take the main floor. If anyone comes in, I’d rather you remain out of sight. Getting caught rummaging around at this time of night, unescorted, will look bad, but at least I can throw out my Interpol credentials and explain the dire situation in Spanish. I may get my hand slapped, but probably not arrested.”

  Marjorie wasn’t thrilled about going into the dark, dank, below-ground level of the church by herself, but Diego’s plan had merit. Besides, she figured the odds of Miguel’s father hiding the relic in the seldom-used underground chambers were good, and she desperately wanted to locate the object as much for professional reasons as personal.

  She flipped on her flashlight, glanced at her watch, and took two steps down the narrow staircase. She stopped, turned, and glanced back as Diego closed the door, giving her an instant sensation of being alone and vulnerable. Cool, musty air greeted her as she descended the steep steps into the bowels of the cathedral.

  A long, narrow hallway lined with doors on both sides about every twenty or so feet began at the bottom of the stairs and disappeared into the darkness. She pushed open the first heavy wooden door and found a windowless room filled with old tables and a host of broken pews. The space lacked closets offering any hiding places. She slowly ran her flashlight over the walls and floors constructed of irregular shaped stone blocks, illuminating the contents. Nothing appeared old enough to have been in place during the era Miguel’s father would have cleaned the church’s interior as a young boy.

  In the room across the hallway, several single beds leaned against one wall and a small table and two rickety chairs stood abandoned off to the side. By the look of the stained mattresses, which were thoroughly chewed up by rodents, the beds hadn’t been slept in for decades, but the furniture still seemed more recent than the time frame in question.

  The next room held so many sculptures that Marjorie could barely squeeze inside. Most of them represented the Virgin Mary or the various Apostles, and a few depicted Jesus. A thick layer of dust blanketed the artwork, many were missing appendages, and all were faded from the ravages of time. The figures ranged in size from several feet high to the largest, a once vibrantly painted statue of Jesus raising his magnificently-detailed hands toward Heaven, which nearly reached the ceiling. Marjorie marveled at the splendor of the giant nestled in the back corner of the dark room. Even though the colors had faded and large chunks had been broken off, the life-like expression on the face of Jesus made her feel as if she were in the presence of a powerful being.

  The monuments were too overwhelming to deal with in such a limited amount of time, so she moved on. The layout and dimensions of each room were similar, and most overflowed with boxes, jars, and cans or old furniture. Marjorie didn’t bother to check inside the boxes and cabinets, assuming by the appearance of the items that they arrived for storage well after Miguel’s father had stowed the artifact, and she doubted he would have hidden something so precious in an obvious place.

  By the time Marjorie reached the last room, she felt defeated and hoped Diego was having better luck. She supposed the relic could be located beneath one of the hundreds of blocks making up the floors. With abundant time, she could pound on each floor block to determine if any sounded hollow or felt loose, but as the minutes ticked by, she realized that task would be impossible during this trip. The thought of coming back night after night to search this huge cathedral was not a pleasant notion.

  According to Marjorie’s watch, they had about fifteen minutes to get out before the cleric returned for the evening. She took each step slowly to avoid tripping on the uneven stones barely visible in the dim illumination of her flashlight. Halfway to the top of the staircase, a loud thud reached her ears. She moved quickly until she reached the heavy wooden door, stopped, and listened for a moment. All remained silent, so she eased the door open.

  The rusty hinge creaked, freezing her in mid-stride. She heard footsteps running, but the sound seemed to be getting further away rather than closer. She edged out into the dark room and noticed the door leading outside stood ajar. She knew Diego wouldn’t leave her, so someone had entered. Her pulse raced as she looked around, craving a glimpse of Diego and fearing the other players who roamed the church.

  Marjorie moved quickly, but quietly, hugging the shadows of the walls as she inched her way to the main part of the cathedral. Glancing toward the altar from the darkened side-entryway, she spotted an urn of flowers tipped over and laying on the floor, but no sign of anyone. Marjorie took a deep breath as she pulled her pistol out from beneath her sweatshirt. She almost expected to be struck down from above for brandishing a weapon in a holy place, but she couldn’t help the overwhelming desire to be prepared for the worstsomething didn’t feel right. If Ahmed had found them, she would not give him another chance to kill her or Diego.

  A gunshot ricocheting off the massive golden pedestal behind the altar caused Marjorie to flinch and she almost dropped her gun. Regaining her composure, she crept down the hallway, hoping for another door to access the back of the nave where the shots had originated. Before she reached her goal, several more shots rang out.

  Helplessness threatened to immobilize her. Not knowing where Diego hid made it impossible to assist without risking his life, or exposing herself and possibly getting caught in the crossfire. She had to trust Diego, but if the culprits were Ahmed and his accomplice, he was out- numbered.

  The gunshots became more sporadic. Sneaking down the corridor that ran adjacent to the nave, searching for some vantage point in which she could ascertain what was going on, she pictured the scene unfolding on the other side of the wallDiego, Ahmed, a
nd another man stalking, guns at the ready, hoping for a clear shot, unconcerned for the beautiful interior being damaged by each errant bullet.

  At the end of the hall, the door entering the nave stood open. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled out, staying hidden behind a pew. Marjorie knelt down further and peeked under the wooden benches. She spied one set of shoes, and they didn’t belong to Diego or Ahmed. The man crouched at least twenty rows closer to the altar. For a moment, Marjorie debated about whether or not she was a good enough shot to hit his ankle. If she missed, which was likely, all she would have accomplished would be to notify every person of her position and her presence, so she stayed put and listened.

  A sudden eruption of footsteps rushing forward forced Marjorie to steal a glimpse over the back of the pew concealing her body. She saw Ahmed slip into the nave from the opposite side that Marjorie had, but closer to the front, and the other man boldly running up the center aisle. Diego popped up from behind the altar, and with one well-placed shot, he brought the charging man down.

  Marjorie’s gaze swung toward Ahmed. She doubted Diego had seen him enter from the side as he focused on the person racing toward him. Ahmed’s gun was aimed at Diego. Marjorie raised her weapon and pulled the trigger, but not before Ahmed’s gun fired and Diego collapsed.

  She squeezed off two more shots and Ahmed disappeared from sight. Unsure if she hit him, or if he had just ducked for cover, Marjorie left the relative safety of the pew and tiptoed to the place where Ahmed had dropped to the floor, needing to confirm if her shot connected, or if he was still a threat. Caution wasn’t an option—she had no idea how seriously Diego was injured, or if he was still alive. She wanted to run to him, but not before ensuring Ahmed was out of the game.

  Careful to stay behind cover, she inched toward the wall. A bullet grazed past her ankle. She climbed onto the bench and laid flat on her stomachAhmed clearly wasn’t dead. She inhaled several deep breaths to calm her nerves and focus, then shimmied down the length of the pew as silently as possible. At the end, she paused for a moment before standing up, barrel pointed toward the floor and Ahmed.

  He tried to raise his weapon, but hit his hand on the underside of the bench seat he had fired under when he shot at Marjorie’s ankle.

  She enjoyed the surprise in his eyes as he focused in on her face. He obviously hadn’t recognized her as he trailed them across Argentina. She tried to think rationally, but her mind reeled with thoughts of revenge. He had stolen the relic in Egypt, robbed the world of the Sphinx, and may have taken Diego from her.

  “You should have verified my death in Egypt.” She expected to see fear in his eyes, but instead, he smiled, turned his head, and looked under the pew toward the altar.

  Fear and panic coursed through her mind at the realization he had a clear shot at Diego lying on the floor. If Diego was still alive, he wouldn’t be for much longer if she didn’t act. She aimed for the shoulder of his gun hand and fired. Wails of pain echoed through the interior of the vast empty space.

  Forcing the sounds of agony from her mind, she scrambled over the pew and kicked his gun far out of reach, though she doubted he would be capable of any more damage with two wounds.

  Adrenaline pulsed through Marjorie’s veins. She had never shot a person before. The magnitude of what she had done would sink in eventually, but right now Diego needed her. Quickly checking the man Diego had shot, she confirmed he was still alive, though no longer a threat. She kicked his gun down the aisle and frisked him in case he had another. Satisfied he possessed no more weapons, she rushed to Diego’s side and knelt.

  One of Diego’s hands was pressed to his side and blood oozed between his fingers. Taking his other hand in hers, she lifted it to her cheek. It was warm. She touched her lips to his palm and his eyes fluttered open.

  “Thank God you’re alive,” she cried. “When I thought Ahmed had killed you, I just reacted.”

  “Did you find it?” he whispered.

  “You’ve been shot and the relic is all you can think about?”

  “I’ll live, but if we fail, others will die. This wound is not fatal. I have suffered worse injuries and survived.”

  Marjorie released a sigh. With each word he spoke, his voice sounded stronger and she believed him when he said he would live. Still, she found it impossible to worry about the crystal with Diego lying on the cold stone floor, bleeding. She wanted to hold him and never let go, but he needed help.

  “We need professional medical help,” she said as she heard the sound of sirens growing louder.

  “I imagine those sirens are coming for us, so just stay with me for a moment and listen closely. The authorities will take me to the hospital, but if the police find you here, you will be arrested and held until they can sort this out. Remember Bermejo, the village where we stopped and had lunch right before we reached Salta?”

  Marjorie nodded and clenched her teeth. She released Diego’s hand to wipe a tear from her cheek before he noticed how terrified she felt.

  “Go back there, stay out of sight as much as possible, and wait. As soon as I can access a private phone, I will contact Interpol and have someone escort you out of the country and to a safe place.” He pressed the keys to their rented vehicle into her palm.

  “I don’t want to leave you.”

  “I’ll be fine. Now go, before it’s too late.”

  “What about the crystal?”

  Diego smiled and squeezed her hand. “We tried. We did all we could do. Now it is truly in the hands of God and you must save yourself and explain to Cash what you discovered by plotting the origins of the artifacts on a map. Maybe together you can locate the remaining heads. At least Zara’s men failed in Salta, too.”

  “You’re right, but remember, Miguel said it was in the hands of the Son of God. After you arrange to evacuate me from Argentina, get word to Cash to meet me at the Church of Santo Domingo in Cusco—the day after tomorrow at dusk.”

  She leaned over and kissed Diego hard on the lips, stood and stowed her gun, a determined look on her face.

  He reached for her hand, but she pulled away and disappeared through the side door just as the police burst into the cathedral.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  September 29, 5:00 P.M.

  Arizona

  CASH DIDN’T HAVE the luxury of staying put, catching his breath, or lamenting all his aches and pains. By the time he flew out the cavern’s mouth, the gun shots had ceased, and none of his team greeted him, indicating they were in trouble and needed him. Visions of Olivia filled his mind, providing the motivation and strength to stagger to his feet, even though his ribs hurt so bad he feared he might black out from the agony.

  Standing still until the earth beneath his boots quit spinning and objects no longer appeared suspended in mid-air and in duplicate, he then slipped over the edge of the arroyo and made his way toward camp. Obviously, whoever had tied Ian’s end of the rope to the mule had already paid them a visit. When he reached their gear, he scanned the area and located no mules. Their equipment lie broken and strewn on the ground, and all the water bottles were gone. A rock tumbled down the slope, and he swung around brandishing his knife, the only weapon he had left. He re-sheathed the blade as Olivia ran toward him and threw herself in his arms.

  “He’s dead,” she sobbed.

  Cash held her tight. Relief swept over him in a rush, allowing him to block his pain out of his mind. She appeared unharmed, but clearly something horrible had happened. The depth of his fear of losing her stunned him as he continued to hold her, thanking God for her safety. He had never been so terrified in his life as when he couldn’t find her.

  “Who’s dead?” Cash asked as he eased Olivia back until he could see her face.

  “Ian. We were watching the cavern opening and were ambushed from behind without any warning. Ian ordered me and Benny to return to camp and hide, and Pete to go for the mules, while he and Diane covered our retreat and your exit. Everyone followed his
instructions, but when we reached the creek bed, the stock was gone. We hid behind a rock outcrop and Pete stood guard. The gunfire continued and when the barrage finally stopped, we edged back up the slope and witnessed unimaginable chaos. You flew out of the cavern at the end of a rope, panicked animals scattered in every direction, and Diane was screaming at us to stay down, and for Pete to get her a mule, but he couldn’t, because they were gone.”

  “Where’s everyone now?”

  “Diane, Benny, and Pete are trying to round up the mules. I went to Ian, hoping to help…” Olivia choked back the tears. “He’s gone. No pulse and blood everywhere. I came back here to wait as Diane told me to.”

  Cash pulled Olivia closer. Death sucked. No matter how many times he witnessed the tragedy, it never got any easier, and for a sensitive woman like Olivia, losing someone so violently had to be unbearable. He shouldn’t have allowed her to accompany them. Benny insisted he needed her, and they would be safe since no one knew this country better than he did.

  To find the cavern they needed Benny, but he shouldn’t have yielded to Benny and Diane’s insistence that Olivia join the expedition. Looking back, he had probably given in so easily because he wanted to be with her. Olivia’s calming influence on everyone, especially him, made him crave a normal life with someone to love. He dealt with death, terrorism, destruction, and evil on a daily basis, but when he was with her, the possibility that goodness still existed in the world—and in him—seemed real.

  Cash pressed his lips to Olivia’s forehead and held her to his chest. After all the time on the trail, she still smelled like heaven and felt even better. He wanted to keep her this close forever, but duty called, and he needed to locate the rest of the team.

  “Wait here, so Diane doesn’t worry if she comes looking for you. I think I retrieved the relic. I didn’t have a chance to verify the contents of the wrapped bundle before I heard gunfire, so I left the parcel just inside the cavern.”