The Cortés Trilogy: Enigma Revenge Revelation

by John Paul Davis

  Or worse, falling to his death.

  As Cortés slid precariously close to the edge, he dived for him and grabbed his left hand. His fingers were slippery, like his.

  Even with two hands he struggled with the excess weight.

  “Hold on, I’ve got you.”

  A few feet below him, Juan’s position was perilous. His skin was red in blotches, his eyes lost as though in a daze. Ben noticed strange blue marks had appeared around his face and neck.

  And foam in his mouth.

  Juan spat out the foam. “I am getting weak. I cannot hold much longer.” He looked down at Maria, his heart aching at the sight of her swaying above the rivers. Her eyes were closed, her face bleeding, her body practically limp. If he was capable of tears, he knew they would have appeared now.

  After years of pain, the floodgates had filled.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Juan. Just hold on.”

  Ben saw Juan look back up at him, his condition worsening by the second. He sensed the man was dying.

  “My ring is in that hole. For over five hundred years it has been worn by the head of my family. Please, ensure it finds its way back to Eduardo. He is the new head now.”

  Ben gritted his teeth, struggling with the excess weight. “Come on, Juan, just hold on.”

  “I am sorry you ever got involved in this, Ben. Tell Eduardo, his family love him.”

  Ben felt Juan’s grip weaken suddenly, their bodies swaying wildly. Below Juan, he saw Maria was close to escaping Juan’s grasp.

  He knew Juan’s strength had left him.

  “Okay, Juan. If we get out of here, I’ll do it. I promise.”

  Cortés smiled, a strangely innocent smile, reminding him of that day in Valladolid when they breakfasted close to the cathedral, overlooking the entrance to the bank.

  Even now, the great master had nothing but love on his mind.

  “You know, at long last I think I understand what my ancestor meant. I think I also preferred the journey to the arrival.”

  Ben felt his right arm become free, a sudden weight lifted. He looked down, shocked, as Cortés’s hand became separated from his, his exhausted body plunging into the depths below. As they fell, he saw Juan’s body become intertwined with Maria’s as they splashed into the coloured waters.

  Together as one, the son of the conqueror and the daughter of the emperor came to their end in the river of gold.

  *

  Ben shouted desperately as he gazed at the strange setting below. The brightly coloured waters flowed in five straight lines before turning at an acute angle, forming a new stream that took non-valuable debris somewhere underground. Everywhere he looked, he saw debris.

  Juan and Maria had disappeared among the wastage.

  Another explosion sounded, louder still, this time uncomfortably close. The impact shook him violently, forcing his thoughts to return to the present. The demonic hum he had heard in the upper levels had quietened suddenly, the sound drowned out by gunfire.

  He bent down to grab the ring Juan had lost and placed it over his middle finger before searching for an exit. The smoke cleared, his path revealed.

  To his horror he saw the floor in front of him had largely vanished.

  He heard a crash to his left, loud but not an explosion. Four more followed; as the smoke disappeared completely, he saw the reason. Chris was standing beside the nearest hole in the floor, breaking barrels.

  He lined up two planks of wood and placed them across the chasm.

  “Here. Use them to cross.”

  Ben had never been so relieved by his cousin’s ability to improvise. Despite the thin, flimsy condition of the wood, he knew it was the best he could hope for.

  Ben gritted his teeth, ran and jumped. He came down hard on the rocky floor, his legs dangling precariously over the edge.

  He felt himself slipping.

  Chris pulled hard, bringing him to safety. “I got ya.” He pulled Ben with all his remaining strength, dragging him to safety. Once clear of the edge, Ben quickly got to his feet and saw Colts, Juliet and Claude edging their way closer to the exit.

  The way to the podium had cleared.

  “Where are the others?”

  “Kabil’s men are up ahead,” Juliet said. “The others didn’t make it.”

  Ben frowned, reality setting in. He heard another almighty crash, a band of natives disbanding.

  “Where’s Valeria?”

  “Ben, there’s no time.” Colts grabbed him.

  Kabil reappeared close to the podium. “Come on. Hurry.”

  Ben bit his lip, looking around in all directions. The middle ring where he had last seen Valeria was still partially shrouded in smoke, the floor in serious danger of giving way. He looked sadly in the direction where he had last seen Juan.

  There was no sign of movement.

  “Ben!” Colts shouted.

  “Coming.”

  *

  Valeria rose to her feet and looked uncomfortably around her. Her face hurt, an enveloping numbness; she remembered it had been caused when Juan had lashed out at her. Awareness now struck her that Juan had disappeared from view, along with her sister.

  She couldn’t believe her own flesh and blood had betrayed her to the scum of humanity.

  The smoke cleared, revealing the extent of the damage. The floor had largely disappeared on the one side, while several large cracks indicated more was yet to come. She saw her rucksack lying a few feet away, the contents still there. On the upper ring, she saw movement, accompanied by a threatening humming sound.

  Swarms of Aztecah were descending on her.

  A fit of panic overcame her, followed by sudden calm. Hurrying through the bag, she removed the headdress and placed it above her head, ignoring the familiar hideous itchy sensation of the feathers against her face. She waited till the swarms descended before removing the Stone of Fire, raising it high above her head.

  Unveiling it like a lost icon.

  The surrounding crowd came to a sudden halt, the curious eyes of all onlookers watching her through their golden eye masks. A strange hush descended, a loud silence interrupted only by the noisy intake of native breath.

  Valeria spoke calmly in the language her grandmother had taught her, monitoring them for any reaction. Receiving no response, she tried again. As the seconds passed, she felt an increasing feeling of dread, as though a great plague was set to be unleashed. Scared, she spoke a third time.

  With nowhere to run, the onslaught began.

  *

  Ben ducked as he emerged through the entrance of the temple. In the general chaos, he had neglected to take account of the geometry of the pyramid and fell several steps, falling into Chris.

  “Come on.” Chris helped him back up, keeping low as a barrage of darts flew at them from close to the pillared statues. From lower down, firearms offered precise and accurate counter fire.

  More Aztecah fell to the ground, falling down the steps.

  Ben spoke through the walkie-talkie. “Eduardo, we’re outside. I repeat, we’re outside. Come down in the temple complex, south of the mountain. And come quickly.”

  Seconds later, Ben saw a helicopter-shaped shadow move above the pyramid steps, the gentle humming of the chopper’s engine music to his ears. He watched on, relieved, as it started to descend amongst the trees, the blades thrashing against the foliage.

  The only obstacle that remained was to reach it.

  He reached the bottom of the steps and sprinted across the plaza, doing his best to hide amongst the trees. He fired backwards as he ran; sparks flew up off the stone steps. He estimated over fifty tribesmen remained in pursuit, the fastest passing the midpoint.

  Kabil was now leading the way, Chris at the back. As Ben increased his pace, he caught up with Colts, Claude and Juliet.

  Colts was panting, holding his stomach. “I’m too old for all this shit.”

  Directly above them, the sound of whirring rotors was getting louder, the shadow of the chop
per becoming ever larger. He saw it touch down less than fifty metres away.

  Forty.

  Thirty.

  Twenty.

  Ten.

  Chris was the first inside, ushering in Juliet and Claude. Ben helped Claude inside before doing the same for Kabil’s men.

  Firing back, Kabil waited till last.

  “Go!”

  Ben jumped inside; under the circumstances the metallic floor felt like a soft mattress on his wounded limbs. Staring through the open doorway, he saw Kabil sprinting towards them. He climbed in. Shut the door.

  The metallic exterior reverberated from the sound and force of more darts.

  “That’s everyone. Go,” Kabil instructed the pilot.

  The chopper rose steadily into the air, the exterior still vibrating under the force of the relentless attack. As they reached forty feet, the onslaught stopped, the sounds replaced by the reassuring noise of the helicopter’s engine.

  Still breathless, Ben entered the cockpit. Eduardo was at the sticks, his headset covering much of his face.

  “Thank you. You did great.”

  A half smile. “What happened?”

  Ben smiled sympathetically and removed Cortés’s ring from his finger. Ben could tell from his expression, Eduardo instantly realised it would be bad news.

  “I’m really sorry, kid.” He sat down alongside him, concerned the news would affect Eduardo’s ability to fly. “Your uncle was a real hero in there. He not only saved many of us, but even reconciled with his wife. He went on his own terms.” Ben grimaced philosophically. He decided not to mention the part about the dart.

  Eduardo nodded, clearly shaken.

  “He asked me to give you this.” Ben passed him the ring; the young man took it. For a few seconds he examined it before placing it on his middle finger. “A family heirloom. Once my father’s.”

  Ben smiled softly. “He was really proud of you. He asked me to tell you that.”

  Eduardo nodded, clearly close to tears. But none came, not yet. Ben knew there would be a time and a place; and the time would be soon, the place near. Much had been lost.

  Little had been found.

  Ben turned and saw Claude by the door. Eduardo’s heart soared on seeing him. “Claude, you’re okay.”

  The old man nodded sombrely. Though his skin carried the scars of physical punishment, his expression showed what his heart could never tell.

  “Ah, Juan Pablo. God rest his saintly soul.”

  Ben returned to the hold, exhausted and numbed by recent experiences. He looked down and saw Colts panting by the door, Juliet seeing to his wounds. His rucksack was heavy and off balance; he saw it topple over. Ben opened the flap.

  Gold spilled out.

  “What the hell do you call this?”

  Colts looked up at him, clearly bitter. “I call it doing my job.”

  Ben banged his fist against the inside of the door. “Dozens of people died in there. We’ve just had to run for our lives. And that’s all you can think about.”

  He looked at Juliet, noticing her expression had become awkward. Beside her, her bag was equally full.

  “When we got to the temple, I didn’t realise we were being chased. I was just doing my job too.”

  Turning away, Ben sank to the floor like a lead weight. His own bag was empty, but his heart was heavy. In the blink of an eye everything had been found.

  Only to be lost.

  He wiped his eyes and looked around at the people who had made it. He saw Chris looking back at him; under the circumstances the face he saw seemed a lot wiser than it had three weeks earlier. No longer did he see a man lost in life. But a fighter. A would-be SEAL.

  The US Navy was poorer for having lost him.

  He smiled at his cousin and moved alongside him. He sighed deeply, looking at him. Finally he spoke.

  “I could really do with some of Nana’s apple pie right now.”

  Chris smiled, then laughed. First softly, then almost uncontrollably, wiping his eyes as he did so. After everything that had happened, he was still alive. The chaos was over; the worst had come and gone.

  As Ben looked again at the people still with him, in his mind’s eye he saw Juan again, sitting there, in front of him, his arm around the woman he had lost and found. Again in the blink of an eye. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  He closed his eyes and did both.

  Epilogue

  Godolphin, one week later

  The limousine with tinted windows completed its journey along the winding, tree-lined driveway in the heart of the Cornish estate and parked outside the main entrance of the house. Leaving via the rear-right door, the smartly dressed, grey-haired individual entered through the main door of the house and headed into the dining room.

  Ben and Colts were already inside, their appearances matching the mood. Like the newcomer, they both wore typically dark business attire, whereas Ben had made far less of an effort. His stubble was closer than it had been, recently trimmed, but he made no attempt to hide his battle scars. Two heavy marks remained deeply etched into his forehead, incurred when walking through the dense undergrowth. He also had some minor tissue damage from the shrapnel of the mortar bombs, but overall he felt that he had got off quite lightly. The swellings had come out days ago, but they were already starting to fade.

  If the consultant’s assessment was correct, however, full recovery was likely to be a matter of months rather than weeks.

  The atmosphere changed suddenly. Ben and Colts both rose to their feet, Colts clearly still struggling with recent injuries.

  “Please don’t get up on my account, gentlemen. I promise to make this as brief as possible.” The newcomer placed his briefcase on the table, opening it one click at a time. “I’m pleased to announce that the lab analysis of the things that you found have already been returned home, and the results are most impressive. The quality of the compounds are excellent. My colleague believes we could be dealing with some of the purest on record.”

  Ben returned to his seat, Colts following, their eyes on the newcomer, who remained standing. Ben recognised him from their brief meeting in the mine. Professor Stephen Davenport, according to his card.

  Ben believed from his tone, he was serious about being brief.

  “What about the other stuff?” Ben asked.

  “The sample you brought to us, Dr Maloney, from your trip to Spain we also know to be consistent with that recently discovered here,” the former Cambridge academic said, adjusting his spectacles. “As for the latest specimen. Tests are ongoing.”

  Ben bit his lip, not particularly surprised. He had guessed there would be things that wouldn’t be disclosed to him.

  “The Duke has asked me to thank you both personally for your assistance in this most sensitive of matters. He asked me to give you this.” He passed Ben a white envelope.

  Ben placed it in his inner pocket without checking the content. “What about the hoard itself? I thought we had an understanding I would personally be involved in the research.”

  “That is true. And you will, in time. Right now, tests are being conducted on the three samples and are likely to continue for some time. The first sample, in particular, has already confirmed evidence of clipping around the exteriors. This may indicate that the hoard was intentionally damaged at some time, most likely by some of Montezuma’s enemies. When the physical tests are over, the hoard will be broken up and researched individually. At that point, you will be hearing from us.”

  The man removed a second item from his briefcase, this time a much thicker envelope. “I’ve also been asked to give you this.” He passed it across the table. “You might want to open this one.”

  Ben glanced at Colts, who shrugged, clearly the more enthralled of the two. Taking his time, Ben opened it and removed several papers, at the top of which was an introductory letter.

  “Fellow of the Royal Society?” Ben was confused.

  “Yes. It was an honour that had on
ce been bestowed upon your ancestor, in his own way the man who began all this. The Duke believed it to be an appropriate honour in light of your recent work. As a fellow myself, I was happy to support your case.”

  “As was I, of course,” Colts added.

  Ben looked at Colts and Davenport, then back at the letter, his eye catching the famous logo illustrating the tree of knowledge. He had seen something similar back in Massachusetts, in his grandmother’s house. Though the penmanship had changed, the design was similar.

  “Well, thank you. I’m really very touched.”

  Davenport closed his briefcase. “All being well, you should hear from us sooner rather than later, at which stage you will be personally invited to be involved in the next round of tests. In the meantime, I know I don’t need to remind either of you that the work here must remain strictly classified.”

  “How about the situation at St Lide’s?”

  “What situation is that?”

  Ben felt suddenly annoyed. “As I’ve already made clear once already, I understand from one of our late companions that he himself witnessed the discovery of bodies on the island. I assume a thorough investigation will be made.”

  “As I’ve mentioned already, Dr Maloney, such matters remain highly sensitive and classified. Such matters are best left to the experts. Now is not the time for speculation.”

  Ben shrugged his shoulders, nodding despondently.

  Like the mistakes of the past, it was to be swept under a carpet. Left to the birds.

  “Thank you both once again for your assistance in the matter.” He smiled politely at Ben. “Perhaps I’ll see you at the next fellows’ luncheon.”

  Colts grinned. “He’ll be there. Even if I have to drag him there myself.”

  *

  As the limousine slowly made its way back up the mile-long driveway, Ben and Colts headed for a different limousine parked slightly out of sight.

  “Fellow of the Royal Society, huh? You really supported me for membership?”

  “You really think some overpaid civil servant like him got you on board?” Colts laughed and shook his head. “I’m guessing you must be pretty choked about missing out on the chance to study all that gold.”