by Kim McMahill
Cash laughed despite the sharp pain in ribs. He couldn’t stay away from Olivia even if he wanted to, which he didn’t, and the fact that it annoyed Diane so much was just a bonus. He doubted Olivia had a spiteful bone in her body, but he thought he could detect a trace of enjoyment in her as well. Her devious little smile made it almost impossible for him to dress and leave the hospital without reaching for her once again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
October 1, 6:00 P.M.
Cusco, Peru
ANNOYANCE AND WORRY battled in Cash’s mind. Dusk was quickly giving way to dark and they hadn’t seen any sign of Marjorie. He, Pete, and Diane had been sitting in different spots around the Church of Santo Domingo for over an hour, and all he had to show for the effort was two opportunities to buy alpaca sweaters.
“Here we go again,” Cash mumbled as a short woman shuffled toward him, her shoulders slumped, and her hands loaded down with woven wool scarves. She wore a full black skirt just brushing the tops of her plain beige shoes and a bulging button-up faded red sweater. A scarf covering her neck and most of her hair was tied in a thick knot under her chin, and a well-worn bowl-shaped black felt hat with yellow fringe obscuring her face rested on her head. The woman kept her eyes diverted at the ground as she closed the distance between them.
Just as Cash made a move to leave to avoid explaining why he didn’t want to buy anything, he stopped. The toes of the shoes peeking out from under the skirt lacked scuff marks and were far too narrow to be those of a local. Despite the bulging sweater, the woman’s waist and her shoulders were narrow, and she gasped slightly for breath, indicating she wasn’t at home at 11,000 feet as she first appeared. He took a step toward her and she lifted her chin. He let out a sigh of relief as his gaze locked in on pale blue eyes.
She held out a scarf. Cash explained in Spanish why he didn’t want a sweater for the benefit of anyone listening, and then turned and walked away. The woman followed, persistently holding out the handmade items to him, but he pretended not to care and kept moving.
Cash strolled out of the main plaza and entered a side street. He wound his way through the narrow cobblestone alleyways, in and out of buildings, until he reached the CIA safe house. The small non-descript, two-story hovel, the color of mud with a red-tiled roof, was accessed by an old wooden door in a steep alley. After entering, he waited only five minutes before Marjorie, Pete, and Diane arrived.
“Good job,” Diane said, hugging Marjorie. “The disguise is flawless. The black hair and thick layer of clothes hide your delicate figure and most of your pale skin, but those eyes finally gave you away.”
Cash admitted to himself that her ingenuity impressed him. He had expected Marjorie to be sitting on the steps of the church, her fine blonde hair fluttering in the breeze, looking completely frightened and out of place. But, after her experiences in Egypt and Argentina, and her performance here, he realized he had underestimated this fragile-looking woman. Despite having skin like a porcelain doll, she was clearly not breakable.
“Apparently Diego delivered my message to you. How is he doing? I haven’t heard a word since I left him in the cathedral. The team who got me out of the country claimed ignorance on practically every question I asked. ”
“He’s in fair condition, and he’s been moved to Buenos Aires,” Cash said. “This house is stocked with everything we need, so grab something to eat and fill us in on what you learned, and why you wanted us to meet here in Peru.”
Marjorie’s stomach growled and her throat ached to the point she was starting to forget what saliva even tasted like. Accepting Cash’s suggestion, she walked to the refrigerator, grabbed the handle, stopped, turned, and gaped at the group with a concerned expression. “Where’s Ian?”
For a moment, silence reigned. Cash and Pete exchanged glances, and then looked to Diane, eyes pleading with her to do something. Diane wrapped her arms around Marjorie. “I’m so sorry.”
“No. No…” Marjorie repeated as she buried her face in Diane’s bosom and cried.
Cash and Pete watched with hands in their pockets, not knowing what to say or do. Cash didn’t think Ian and Marjorie had crossed paths prior to the Egyptian incident, but they were countrymen, and she was a civilian use to dealing with the ancient dead, not senseless modern killings.
When Diane felt the tears and shaking ebb, she eased Marjorie back. Holding on to her shoulders, she looked into her eyes. “He saved all our lives. He died a hero, and we’ll miss him, but to avenge his death we need to be strong, stay extra vigilant, and work faster than ever.”
Marjorie nodded and wiped her nose. “You’re right. I understand the threat of death goes with the territory in his line of work, but it doesn’t make the loss any easier to accept.”
She took several deep breaths and steadied her nerves. Unsure where to begin, she started by telling them about their vehicle being blown up in the village south of Salta, and then explained what had happened in the cathedral.
“So, you took out Ahmed?” Diane asked, approval clear in her tone.
“I don’t know. He was alive when I left. Diego’s focus was on the other guy, and I don’t think he even noticed Ahmed enter the nave from the side. I just wish I could have been fast enough to keep Diego from being shot.”
“Ahmed didn’t make it, but Diego is going to be fine, thanks to you. The doctors are confident of a full recovery.” Diane read the concern in Marjorie’s eyes and suspected the young archeologist had deep feelings for Diego. She couldn’t blame her if she had a bit of a crush on the handsome Argentine, since he was an attentive man and considerably more sensitive than her Neanderthal partner.
“Leaving him lying on the cold stone, bleeding, was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, but he insisted I go before the authorities arrived. He figured I would be arrested and held by the local police until they figured out what went down at the cathedral. He wanted me to try and catch up with you all and pass on the pattern we figured out.”
“Well, what do you got?” Cash asked.
Marjorie unfolded the well-worn map and showed them the dots and lines crisscrossing the world.
“When we arrived at Diego’s office in Buenos Aires, he plotted the Bimini and Mexico relics and put dots in Paris, London, and Washington D.C. Later I received a message from a colleague stating the British Museum artifact had actually come from Boke, Guinea in Africa. Well, that got us to thinking, and Diego and I re-plotted the points while his staff and mine continued to research the origins of the other relics. Look, as we moved the marks from London, Paris and D.C. to where the objects came from, a pattern started to emerge.”
Pete, Diane, and Cash leaned over Marjorie’s shoulder, eyes focused on the map, stunned by the clarity of Marjorie’s discovery.
“We don’t know the origins of all the museum artifacts, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. I’m sure they were found along one of these axes. What is important is the point where the four lines cross.”
“In Cusco,” her audience chimed in unison.
“Exactly. The final crystal must be somewhere in this city. And, if I were a gambling woman, I’d put money on it being underneath the Church of Santo Domingo.”
“That makes sense,” Pete added. “According to an ancient legend my colleagues back in Virginia uncovered, strong lines of energy run below the earth’s surface, and where they bisect, they create points of immense power. These energy grids are sometimes referred to as ‘Grandmother Spider’s Web.’ The Inca believed one such convergence occurred below the Temple of the Sun, which is the foundation the Church of Santo Domingo was built on, thus making the cathedral a place of great importance and strength.”
“I wasn’t aware of that, but the story just adds to my theory. I’m confident the pattern Diego and I discovered was diagrammed out for us in the desert by our ancient ancestors. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but I believe the Mayans and or the Nascan Indians left us a map.”
Marjorie took out the im
age of the Nasca Lines she had printed off the computer when they stopped at the Salta police station and set the image next to the marked-up world map. The design was eerily similar. She glanced around at the faces examining the images and discerned they were convinced.
“The ancients probably thought once we were technologically advanced enough to discover the map—that is capable of flight—we would be sufficiently developed, morally and ethically, to handle the power. Boy, were they wrong,” Pete added.
“That’s an understatement,” Marjorie stated as she studied the tall scientist, wondering if he had gotten even thinner since she had last seen him. She hoped he would be able to see the mission through to the end, but as she thought about Diego lying in a hospital bed and Ian’s death, her confidence in a positive outcome waned. Still, she forged on.
“The Nasca Lines radiate from a hill like wooden spokes fanning out from the center of a wagon wheel and have been compared to the Incan ceque system in Cusco. The ancient capital of the Incan Empire had four roadways leading to the most remote parts of the kingdom. Does anyone want to hazard a guess as to what place these roadways radiated out from?”
“The Church of Santo Domingo, or as it was called in the height of the Incan Empire, The Temple of the Sun?” Pete replied.
“Yes. All the connections continue to amaze me. Did you know the Sphinx has been coined by some as the old kingdom’s Temple of the Sun?” Marjorie noted the surprised expressions on their faces as she rattled off all the things that could be coincidences or clues. “The Mayans date back to 1000 B.C., the Nascan Indians thrived between 300 B.C and 800 A.D., and the Inca didn’t rise to prominence until 1200-1572. We can assume the knowledge was passed along, and as each successive culture became guardians of the sacred relics, they continued with the same map system, so to speak, ensuring the locations of the artifacts would never be lost to mankind.”
Pete and Diane stared at the diagram, trying to absorb everything Marjorie had just explained, while Cash paced.
Marjorie glanced up at Cash and he stopped. “What’s bothering you?”
“You said the final crystal is likely located here in Cusco. Eleven of the thirteen are accounted for, so that leaves one more still missing. Where along these lines, thousands of miles long, do we search?”
Marjorie slowly unbuttoned her red sweater and stuck her hands under the bulky sweatshirt she wore underneath. She twisted the t-shirt around until the knot rested over her naval and worked to free the knot. She placed the wadded fabric on the table and unrolled the shirt.
Diane’s gasp broke the silence as the small crystal head exposed itself to the attentive group’s view.
“How did you get this? Why didn’t you tell us you had it?” Cash demanded.
“I told no one when I found it. So far, information has leaked through your organizations like a holey bucket. It seemed prudent to avoid broadcasting my discovery over any means of communication. Diego doesn’t even know, but he gave me the idea of where to look. It’s a lengthy story. The short version is, it’s been hidden and protected in the Son of God’s hands for a very long time.”
Cash had to agree with Marjorie’s assessment of how poorly information had been handled during this operation, though he hated being out of the loop, especially on something so vital to the mission. He couldn’t bring himself to berate her when the sorrow of Ian’s death hung over them like a thick, dark cloud, and concern for Diego’s recovery added to everyone’s stress.
“I don’t know about you three, but I don’t think we should try to transport the relic to any agency. We neglect to admit to its existence, and we secure the object somewhere we can access it if we find ourselves in a position where we need a bargaining chip. No one other than the four of us in this room is aware this crystal has been found. I vote we keep it that way,” Marjorie stated.
Marjorie noticed Pete and Diane looking to Cash. The decision was his and she feared he would reject the idea just because of her civilian status. Despite her lack of formal training, the way she saw it, she was the only one who managed to obtain one of the relics, so she apparently had much to contribute to the operation. She couldn’t fight him on his decision, but she hoped for once he would think with his head and leave his ego out of the decision-making process.
“Have you ever thought of becoming an agent?” Cash asked. “Because you’ve got good instincts and you have an incredible knack for staying alive.”
He hadn’t offered a yes or no to her idea—he didn’t need to. For once they were all on board, and he no longer viewed her as a liability.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
October 1, 8:00 P.M.
Warehouse, Cusco, Peru
RELIEF OVER HEINRICH and Marabout’s return swept over Zara as she held the eleventh crystal in her hands. The uncertainty she experienced while waiting for them to return, knowing they possessed a relic, nearly drove her crazy. They could have made it back to Cusco sooner, but they waited in Arizona until Cash and two others left the Navajo woman’s house and followed the group to the airport to verify which flight they boarded.
To Zara’s surprise, Cash was coming to her. She wanted to greet him upon landing in Peru, but she was forced to take a quick trip to Salta, Argentina instead. When Mustafa uncovered the disastrous outcome of Reza and Ahmed’s surveillance operation, she decided to clean up the mess in person.
By the time she arrived, Diego was already en route to Buenos Aires, so no one from his agency was present. The only obstacle between her and Reza was local law enforcement, which proved a minimal complication.
She had easily obtained information from the gossipy hospital staff. Ahmed was dead on arrival and transported straight to the morgue. Reza came in and out of consciousness. His attempts to communicate were interpreted as gibberish, since no one recognized his words as an actual language.
A single guard stood outside the door of Reza’s hospital room, primarily to make sure he didn’t wake up and try to leave. No staff was available to relieve the man when he left his post to use the restroom, making it easy for Zara to walk inside the hospital room without being seen.
She waited until Reza stirred and questioned him about what had happened. He reported that the woman shot Ahmed and he was unaware whether or not the crystal had been found. The relic was either in the woman’s possession, or still hidden in the cathedral, assuming the information obtained from the museum historian was accurate.
Gauging by his condition, Zara doubted Reza would be able to leave the hospital any time soon. The extensive damage done by Diego’s bullet would limit his future usefulness, and she was certain he had told her everything he knew. He was now a liability, and she had no intention of leaving him vulnerable to the authorities.
Zara sat with him in the dark, trying to ease the tension her unexpected visit clearly brought. Describing the latest relic, her calm informative tone soon coaxed him back to sleep. She removed a syringe from her pocket and injected the poison into his IV, ensuring his unending silence.
Back in Peru, Zara placed the crystal Heinrich and Marabout obtained in Arizona into the heavy chest and pondered her next step. She saw no point in sending anyone back to Argentina. With Cash and his two colleagues in Cusco, they merited her undivided attention. If a crystal had been found in Argentina, Cash would know. If not, she would return to Argentina after she figured out what Cash was doing in Cusco, and after she made him pay for his betrayal.
In the meantime, she decided to obtain a little insurance, in case Cash proved to be as uncooperative as usual. From what Marabout and Heinrich reported, having the beautiful Navajo woman in her possession might coax Cash into a more agreeable frame of mind.
“Mustafa, how would you like to meet Desert Blaze in person?”
Mustafa looked up and smiled. “She is quite lovely and seems like a very interesting woman. Escorting her to Peru would be my pleasure.”
Zara placed her hand on his shoulder as her mind wandered to Cash. Her grip
tightened the more she thought of him with Desert Blaze, until Mustafa flinched and sunk down in his chair. Releasing her hold, she strode out of the room, cursing any man too weak to tolerate a small woman’s grasp, and condemning the one who had slipped through hers all those years ago.
CHAPTER FORTY
October 2, 5:00 A.M.
Cusco, Peru, CIA safe house
CASH HAD TOSSED and turned all night. Visions of Olivia filled his mind, and he missed her so much he ached. Usually, thinking about her calmed him down, but at the moment, his thoughts created anxiety. He cursed himself for exposing her to so much danger and hated that she had seen Ian die. He had to trust the two agents assigned to protect her if Marabout and the bald man remained in Arizona, or he wouldn’t be able to focus on the job.
The CIA had been unable to track down Ian’s killers and found no evidence they left the state or the country. That didn’t set well with Cash. He wanted assurances they were long gone. In good disguises with bogus passports, or if Zara had access to a private airstrip, which she always did, the men could be anywhere by now. What terrified him the most was the possibility they were still in Sedona, near Olivia.
Cash decided to concede defeat in his battle with insomnia and get up for the day. He dressed as quietly as possible to avoid waking the rest of the team. In the common room of the safe house, he found he wasn’t the only one plagued with restlessness.
Pete didn’t even look up as Cash walked up behind him and peered over his shoulder. The scientist was sketching a scene that made Cash wrinkle his brow.
“What are you drawing?”
“This was etched on the inside of the lid of the gold box that housed the relic in Bimini. At the time, I marveled at the beauty and complexity conveyed in the scene, but I didn’t think much else about it until about two this morning.”
Cash picked up the sketch pad in order to analyze the drawing closer.
“I was pouring over my colleagues’ data last night. They think the crystals could possibly generate voltage capable of great destruction under certain conditions. Specifically, the alignment and configuration of the heads and the exposure to a significant light source or other catalyst to generate, multiply, and intensify energy might be the keys to unlocking their potential. If the voltage alternates at the proper rate, the crystals will vibrate and produce a signal.”
