"You said it's in the Yucatan. Where?"
"Southeast of Mérida, a few hours from Chichen Itza. It's in the jungle and completely overgrown. Smaller than Chichen Itza and older."
Nick had been to Chichen Itza. The main attractions were a gigantic, stepped pyramid and an impressive stone ball court where the Mayans had played an early and brutal form of soccer.
"Why hasn't it been excavated?"
"There are a lot of archeological sites in Mexico. The government has enough problems maintaining the ones they've opened up. This one is out of sight, out of mind. We pinned it down with SBIRS. Infrared sees right through the jungle canopy."
Elizabeth thought about the satellite pictures from Russia. She thought about a full out firefight in the Mafra Palace over bark pages 1500 years old. She thought about AEON and a dead museum clerk with designs by Nikola Tesla.
"I want to show you something," she said.
She touched a key on her desk console. The big screen lit up on the wall. She tapped another key and a satellite photo of the Russian pyramid appeared on the monitor.
"This is something I've been looking at in Russia. You see the square shape that shows up under infrared?"
"Okay."
"Now look at this shot of the pyramid mentioned in the Codex." She brought it up next to the first photo.
"They look similar." Nick rubbed a hand across dark stubble on his chin.
"They are similar. Someone is building a pyramid in Russia. It's too much of a coincidence, the Codex, the coded messages. It has to be AEON. Ogorov has enough clout to pull it off."
"Why would they do that? AEON isn't sending messages to the gods."
"I haven't any idea, but they wanted the Codex for something. We beat them to it."
"Too bad for them."
"If you were trying to get information about that pyramid and you couldn't get the Codex, what would you do?"
"That's a no-brainer," Nick said. "I'd go to the source and see what I could find out." He could sense where this was going.
Elizabeth picked up her pen, tapped her desk. "Selena, you said this pyramid is hidden in the jungle, unexcavated. That means no one has seen it yet."
"That's right."
"Then I think it's time someone took a look."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The airport at Mérida sparkled in the aftermath of morning rain. The sun threw shimmering storm light across the wet pavement. Dark thunderheads towered overhead with the promise of more rain to come. The Project team stepped from the air-conditioned comfort of their Gulfstream into the torrid humidity of late summer in the Yucatan. It was like stepping into a steam bath.
A black, four wheel drive Suburban waited for them. The man standing beside it wore aviator sunglasses, tan Dockers, an open shirt and an unbuttoned tan sport jacket. There was a bulge under his coat. He introduced himself as John Madison. Nick guessed him to be in his late 20s.
"You guys must have some pull," he said. He shook hands with Nick and handed him a business card identifying him as a second assistant cultural attaché.
"The Consulate sent me over. I'm supposed to give you the keys to the vehicle. After that, you're on your own."
He looked at Nick. "Say, I know you. You're Carter." His face lit with recognition. It made him look even younger. It made Nick feel old. "You were with the President in Jerusalem. Sir, I'd like to shake your hand."
Selena knew Nick was embarrassed. Strangers still came up to him months after the Jerusalem bomb.
"We need to get moving," she said.
Madison said, "You speak Spanish?"
"Yes."
"It's spoken a little differently around here, but you shouldn't have too much trouble. You'll need a map. There's one in the glove compartment."
"Gas?" Nick asked.
"A full tank. You've got a spare 20 gallons in back. Best advice I can give you is fill up anytime you see a Pemex station. Bring the vehicle back here to the airport when you're done. It's brand new, so try not to beat it up too much. The Consul waited a year to get it, it's his pride and joy."
"We'll be careful," Selena said. "Thanks."
"I don't know why you're here, but good luck." Madison shook Nick's hand again. He walked over to a white sedan idling nearby and drove away. They watched him go.
"Second assistant attaché," Nick said. "With a nine under his jacket."
"Maybe he's worried about bandits," Lamont said.
"Means Langley knows we're here." Nick looked at the Suburban. "Why are these government rides always black? They might as well paint a target on them."
They loaded aluminum cases into the back. The cases held their weapons and everything they'd need in the jungle.
"This is weird," Nick lifted a case into the truck.
"Sure is," Ronnie said.
Selena said, "What are you two talking about?"
"Nick and I have been in the jungle before." Ronnie picked up another case. "It was a lot different. We'd be dropped in somewhere with our pack and weapons. Spend a month or two. Crawl around in the muck, live off the land, eat whatever we could find or kill. This is luxury."
He waved at the cases, the Suburban. "Kind of like a camping vacation."
"Yeah, a vacation," Nick said. "I'd rather be at the beach."
Jungles triggered bad memories. Nick hated the insects. Every jungle had it's own, nasty variety. Poisonous centipedes that could make your arm or your leg blow up like a balloon. Vipers that hid unseen in the green leaves, with a bite that killed before you took a dozen steps. Venomous spiders crawling over you as you slept. Big mosquitoes that swarmed in millions.
The Yucatan wasn't as bad as South America. It had big spiders, but none that were poisonous. The worst problem would be the moscas, the mosquitoes. Then there were black scorpions, Las Alacránes. Evil looking with a bad sting, but not lethal. Or fire ants. Those would crawl up your pants and show you how they got their name, if you were unlucky enough to step on a nest. Army ants, that ate everything in their path. They'd eat your boots and you too, if you let them.
Much as he didn't like insects, he wasn't worried about them. He was more concerned about the snakes. The coral snake, the rattlesnake and the Cantil all lived in the Yucatan. The Cantil was like a cottonmouth, close enough. The coral was deadly. All three species lived right where they were going.
They got in the Suburban. Selena sat in front, Nick drove. Ronnie and Lamont sat in the back. Selena took out the map and unfolded it.
"First we head to Pisté. It's a straight shot on route 180. It looks like a good road," she said. "I think about two hours."
She turned on her GPS. The unit was programmed to show their position relative to the objective. She could switch to satellite view of the area with an infrared option. Harker had a geostationary satellite tasked on their target, giving them real time images. At the moment, the view was unhampered by cloud cover and showed nothing unusual. The ruins were invisible under the dense canopy.
"From Pisté there's a secondary road." She traced the route with her finger and compared it to her GPS. "We jog a little, then go south. The road heads into the jungle. The map shows it ending past a small village."
"What's the name of that town?"
"You'll just confuse your tongue, don't worry about it. I probably can't get it right, anyway. It's in Mayan. It will take a few hours more from Pisté."
"Do we get to see Chichen Itza?" Lamont asked.
"No, that's on the other side of Pisté."
"I've seen it," Nick said. "It's impressive. Big pyramid, with lots of steps. Also something called the Ball Court. They used to play a kind of soccer there."
"Soccer?" Ronnie said.