Serpent

  “Come forward where I can see you.” Austin followed the order, he and Zavala closing the distance by several paces. The white-haired man climbed out of the boat wreckage, cautiously approached, and relieved them of their sheath knives. The livid scar on his face became more pronounced when he grinned.

  “We really have to stop meeting like this,” he said, tossing the knives out of range.

  “Introduce me to your friends, Guzman.” Halcon stepped from the wrecked boat, a gun in his hand.

  “Please excuse my rudeness, Don Halcon. Allow me to introduce Mr. Austin and his NUMA associate Mr. Zavala, whom I met in Arizona. Zavala is the gentleman who was photographed by our surveillance camera.”

  “Of course, now I recognize him.”

  “You'll have to send me a copy of the picture, Halcon,” Zavala said.

  Halcon chuckled. “I'd be surprised if you resourceful gentlemen didn't know my name. Guzman told me about you. In fact I ordered him to kill you. You've been lucky; he rarely fails to carry out a task. Before he now redeems himself, I must admit you have me baffled at how you got into the temple.”

  “We were swallowed by the jaws of Kukulcan,” Austin said.

  Halcon studied Austin like an entomologist examining an insect in a killing jar. “You're either telling the truth or simply trying to be ironic,” Halcon said. “Either way it doesn't matter. You won't be leaving through the jaws anytime soon.”

  “I'll tell you how we got in if you answer the questions of a couple of condemned men. I'm just curious if our theory is correct.”

  Halcon must have known Austin was stalling for time. Austin looked at it from a different perspective, the opportunity to set up an escape. He had no intention of dying in this tomb.

  A bargainer to the last,“ Halcon said, evidently intrigued with the game. ”Go ahead."

  “First of all, how did you find the temple?”

  “The same way we knew about your Andrea Doria expedition. Mr. Donatelli's man, the Sicilian.”

  Antonio?"

  “His name is not important. When you told Mr. Donatelli you were headed for Central America we ordered our spies to follow you to Guatemala. That ridiculous little yellow plane was easy to keep track of.”

  So much for the Beaver's unobtrusiveness, Austin thought.

  “I've generously allowed you a bonus question,” Halcon went on. “I'm still interested in your theory.”

  “How's this for starters?” Austin said. “The Phoenicians traded with the Americas for thousands of years. When the Romans besieged Carthage, a Phoenician fleet moved its treasure to the other side of the ocean. Centuries pass, Columbus arrives in the New World and hears tales of a fabulous treasure. He finds the talking stone, concludes it will point the way, and sets off on a last voyage to bring home the bacon. He misinterprets the information on the stone but comes pretty close.”

  “Almost as close as you have, Mr. Austin. Now will you reveal how you got in?”

  “We came down that stairway” Austin said, glancing toward the burial chamber.

  Halcon smiled and turned to his companion. “Guzman”

  “I'm not done,” Austin interrupted. “Columbus has ties to a mysterious organization called the Brotherhood, so it is quite likely they knew of the treasure.”

  “More than likely” Halcon stayed his henchman's hand. “I'm truly impressed, Mr. Austin. The Brotherhood has been one of the best-kept secrets in the world. Not even when we sank one of the world's most famous ocean liners did anyone suspect our existence.”

  “You're telling me that the Brotherhood sank the Andrea Doria?” Austin said.

  “Guzman, really. While my father and the others were dealing with the armored truck guards in the hold, Guzman was taking care of matters on the ship's bridge.”

  “It was an accident,” Austin countered.

  “So they say. It wasn't as hard as you might think. We knew the boats would pass close to each other that night. Guzman was prepared to kill everyone on the Stockholm's bridge and ram the Swedish vessel into the other ship. As it was, he only took advantage of the mistakes made by others.”

  “If what you say is true, and the Brotherhood knew the talking stone pointed the way to treasure, why did they send it to the bottom of the sea?”

  “Unfortunately the stone's value didn't become known until fairly recently. My father ordered the stone sunk. He was carrying out the original mandate of the Brotherhood, to destroy anything that discredited the discoveries of Columbus.”

  Zavala chuckled and said something in Spanish.

  “You're quite right, Mr. Zavala, my father did, as you put it, screw up. But he couldn't have known that I would change the mandate of Los Hermanos.”

  “When did it change from sinking ships to starting revolutions?” Austin said

  A cloud crossed Halcon's pale thin face, then he laughed and clapped his hands. Bravo, Mr. Austin. You have bought yourself more time on your death sentence. Tell me what NUMA knows of my plan."

  “I will, after you fill in a few more holes.”

  “Your tongue would loosen if I started shooting holes in your colleague's arms and legs,” Halcon said with a smile.

  “You could do that, but let me offer another proposal. Tell me what your plan is, and I'll reveal a secret known to no other man on the planet but me. I give you my word.”

  And I accept it.“ Austin had judged Halcon correctly as a megalomaniac who would want others to know of his mad schemes. ”I can sum up my plan in one word. Angelica. The new country that will be carved out of the Southwest states and southern California. Those of Hispanic descent will take back what was stolen from them by force."

  Joe chortled. “Good luck, pal. I know of a certain superpower that might object.”

  “Please give me credit. I'm well aware of the armed might of the U.S. and have no intention of going up directly against it.”

  “Then all those arms you're buying are for sport shooting?”

  “Oh, no, they will be used for military reasons. You're of Spanish ancestry, Mr. Zavala, so you know what I learned in the bullring. With a few flutters and flourishes of a cape and deft footwork you can vanquish a much larger and more powerful foe.”

  “The U.S. isn't exactly a fighting bull,” Austin said.

  “The same principle applies. I have prepared the groundwork well. I have moved millions of illegal immigrants into the old Spanish territories now occupied illegally by the United States, until they are on the verge of outnumbering the non?Hispanics. I have used my fortunes to acquire key businesses such as gas, oil, and mining. With my profits I have sponsored candidates pliant to my will for public office and bought and bribed others. Now I can put my plan into action. As soon as I leave here I will give the word. The army I have been training will move on the border towns. Others will conduct raids in the interior. There will be a backlash against Hispanics, much like that against the Japanese Americans in World War II. Although this time we will give them the means to resist against their Anglo tormentors, and a reason: to redeem the national pride that America has so often demeaned.”

  “You're talking bloodshed and chaos.”

  “My goals exactly! What can the U.S. do, free Albuquerque and Phoenix by nuking them? Conduct street-to-street fighting in the boulevards of San Diego? They will know a political settlement follows every armed conflict, and I will provide the way out. The governors I have elected will sue for peace and suggest that the U.S. turn to one of its citizens of Spanish heritage to act as mediator. I will negotiate de facto secession from the Union.”

  “There's no guarantee your scheme will succeed, in which case hundreds of thousands of people would have been killed for nothing.”

  “They will have served their purpose as a means to an end.”

  “Many of those people will be Latinos,” Zavala said.

  “What of it?” Halcon snarled. “My conquistador ancestors used warring Indian factions as their allies to defeat the Aztec empire, th
en made them slaves. I will offer those who survive the opportunity to relive the greatness of the past as I restore the glories of two great civilizations, the Indian and the Spanish.”

  “Glories like the ball court and the Inquisition?” Austin said.

  And more you haven't even dreamed of, Mr. Austin. Much more.“ His tone was ominous. ”I tire of this game,“ he said impatiently. ”What of this great secret? I wouldn't blame you for lying to me, but it won't save you."

  “I'm not lying. It's in the other chamber.”

  Halcon exchanged glances with Guzman. “No tricks. Guzman has a hair trigger. Lead the way.”

  Austin went up the stairs first, with Zavala following, then Guzman and Halcon, until they came to the edge of the burial pit.

  “You came in this way?” Halcon said, looking in vain for an entryway

  “I was lying about that, but not this.”

  The figure in the sarcophagus had engaged Halcon's attention.

  “Who is it?” Halcon said.

  “If I may?”

  Guzman's cold eyes followed every move as Austin reached into the stone coffin and removed the shiny object from the bony hands of the mummy. He handed it to Halcon, who examined it, frowning with puzzlement.

  “I don't understand,” he said with suspicion.

  “Consider this,” Austin said. “You're the Maya, sitting on a pile of treasure for hundreds of years waiting for the men who brought it to you to return and reclaim it. One day a white man from the east shows up on your doorstep and says he wants his gold. He dies before you can accommodate him. You wonder if he embodies the Venus god, the feathered serpent Kukulcan, but you're not sure. So you hedge your bets, bury him with his treasure, and draw a map in stone in a way that only the Venus god will be able to understand. Those rolls of parchment he's holding are drawings of the inscription on the stone. But if that isn't enough to convince you, then tell me what a Christian cross is doing in a Mayan temple.”.

  “It can't be!” Halcon said with disbelief.

  “Don Halcon, meet the Admiral of the Ocean Sea, Christopher Columbus.”

  Halcon stared at the mummy a moment, then laughed without mirth and tossed the cross back into the sarcophagus. “Keep it, you poor fool.”

  While all eyes were on the coffin Austin squeezed the pouch around his neck. Seconds later came a distant boom, then several others.

  “What's that?” Halcon said, looking about him.

  Guzman moved to the stairway and listened. “It sounds like thunder.”

  While the henchman's attention was diverted, Austin reached down to the floor and in a single quick motion picked up one of the sharp spear points he and Zavala had unsuccessfully used to pry the lid off the coffin. He wrapped his brawny arm around Halcon's slender neck and jabbed the sharp spike deep into the skin.

  Guzman's gun swung around.

  “Back off or this goes into his jugular!” Austin warned. He pushed the spear in further. Blood trickled down Halcon's neck.

  Barely able to speak with his throat crushed, Halcon hissed, “Do as he says.”

  “Put that gun back in your holster,” Austin commanded. He knew Guzman would never give up his gun entirely, that he'd try for a head shot or plug Zavala first.

  Guzman smiled, a hint of admiration in the curve of his thin lips, and slid the gun back into its case. Then Austin ordered Halcon to drop his weapon.

  With Zavala staying close, Austin backed out of the chamber and dragged his human shield down the stairs into the main chamber. Guzman followed at a deliberate pace as they stepped over and around the rubble and stopped under the light streaming in from the ceiling hole.

  Halcon had recovered from his surprise. “Looks like a Mexican standoff,” he said, his voice choked but defiant.

  A brief shower of water splashed down on them from above. Everyone looked up except Austin.

  “That's not rain, in case you're wondering. Those booms you heard a few minutes ago were explosives. I used a remote detonator to blow up the dam that blocks water into the lake. Millions of gallons are pouring in.”

  “I don't believe you,” Halcon snarled.

  “Perhaps you should, Don Halcon,” said Guzman. “It seems Mr. Austin was not lying about the detonator.”

  “You could never have foreseen events,” Halcon said.

  “That's right. My original plan was to blow the dam after we left to make it tougher for you to find the temple. This way at least we'll all die together.”

  They were suddenly drenched by another deluge from above, only stronger this time.

  “My guess is that's only the first ripple from the explosion. The reservoir would have burst by now. More will follow. It won't take much to breach that hole you blew in the temple. I have no idea how long before this chamber fills, but I wouldn't stay around too long if I were you.”

  Guzman looked toward the ladder and seemed to lose some of his steely composure. “We must leave.”

  “Not without that treasure.”

  “Doesn't make any difference to me,” Austin said. “Like. you said, we're dead men.”

  Water poured down again, but instead of a brief burst, it continued to flow in a torrent.

  “Don Halcon . . .” There was alarm in Guzman's voice.

  “He's bluffing, you fool,” Halcon replied with disgust.

  “The treasure is of use to no one if he's right,” Guzman said.

  Halcon's eyes filled with hate. “You've always been nothing but a homicidal cretin from the day my father hired you,” he said with contempt. “You can't see the glory!”

  A hard smile crossed Guzman's lips.

  Water was pouring in like a river now, directly on top of them so that it was hard to see each other, sloshing onto their feet, yet nobody moved.

  “Quite a dilemma, isn't it, Guzman,” Austin taunted, raising his voice to be heard. “Loyalty to your crazed boss and the Brotherhood, or death by drowning. I sincerely hope you resolve your family spat, but you'll have to settle it without me. That's the cue, Joe!”

  Zavala ran toward the well at the far end of the chamber and dove in. Austin dropped the spear point, grabbed Halcon's butt, and with a powerful bum's rush threw him at Guzman, who'd been momentarily distracted by Zavala's sprint. They went down in a tangle, but even as he fell Guzman was pulling out the pistol. Austin dashed for the well. Guzman was up and got off a shot, but Austin was a poor target in the dim light, and the bullet missed. Austin dove into the well.

  Guzman cursed and went after Austin. Buffeted by the flood swirling around his ankles and knees, he had taken only a few steps when he realized it would be suicide to stay in the chamber. This conclusion was reinforced when he turned and saw that Halcon had deserted him and was heading for the ladder. Halcon's dreams of glory had finally given way to his instincts for self-preservation. He slogged his way against the rising tide until he was under the ceiling hole where the water roared down in a miniature Niagara. Blinded by the force of the cascade, he groped for the ladder, but his hand slipped. He clenched his teeth with determination and tried again. This time he got a grip on a rung.

  As he began to climb a hand grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him down. Guzman wrapped his arms around Halcon's knees and used the full weight of his body to pull him back into the chamber. Halcon held on with one hand and with the other pulled his pistol, which he had retrieved, from its holster and swung it with all the strength he could muster in his awkward position. The gun barrel struck flesh and bone, but Guzman desperately held on. Halcon raised the pistol again and brought it down twice more on Guzman's head with the desired effect.

  Guzman's grip loosened. He lost his footing and was swept back into the chamber where his body came to rest against a pile of boat wreckage. Even then he wasn't through. He was on his knees, struggling to get to his feet, when a ship's beam as long as a man slammed into his face. Borne by the current, the timber had the effect of a battering ram. A fiery pain screamed in his brain. Dazed and
blinded in one eye, arms flailing uselessly, he gasped for air, only to suck in lungfuls of foul water. His frantic movements eventually slowed and became more feeble, and the current drove him deep into the dark chamber.

  Halcon was having his own problems. He had climbed only a few yards up the ladder when a wave surged over the lip of the gap in the ceiling and pummeled him like a giant wet fist until he was no longer able to hold on. More water poured in and knocked him off the ladder. Recognizing that escape by this route was impossible, he fought his way to the stairs leading to the burial chamber. With the water lapping at his heels, he crawled on hands and knees up the stairway

  Zavala had been treading water when Austin dove into the pool. As Guzman's bullet whistled overhead, they surface dove and swam down into the shaft, buddy-breathing off one tank. Minutes later they emerged from the jaws of Kukulcan. They checked their compass and swam for open water, using every muscle in their legs to get beyond the current produced by the flooding temple. They surfaced near the cove that hid the plane. Within minutes they had cleared the branches away and started the engine and were skimming across the water for a takeoff. As soon as the plane gained altitude, Zavala banked it around the lake in a big circle.

  The island that had built up around the temple was gone. In its place was a black hole. Lake water swirled down the hole like a bathtub drain and tugged at the mooring line of a seaplane that must have been Halcon's.

  They had seen enough. They swooped in low over the lake for one last look at the vortex. Zavala couldn't resist temptation. He leaned out the window and shouted, “Goodbye, Columbus.”

  Then they headed back to the Nereus.

  Serpent

  49

  THE STUBBY-MASTED SAILB0AT WITH the single oversized gaff-rigged sail cruised over the deep blue waters of Chesapeake Bay, pushed along from directly behind by a steady fifteen-knot breeze from the southwest. Austin lounged in the large open cockpit with one arm on the raised rail, the other on an oversized tiller. His eyes scanned the boat traffic, looking for prey.