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“Just take it easy. There’s nothing that needs to be discussed right now. We just wanted you to know we’re here for you and we’ll be staying nearby. Rest, and we’ll come back tomorrow, all right?” Sam said, and Lazlo managed a weak nod, then closed his eyes and drifted off.
The area around the temple was cordoned off and a small military encampment had been set up blocking the access road. Sam and Remi showed their passports and, after a stony-faced corporal checked their identification against a list and radioed for approval, they were allowed onto the grounds. Another soldier pointed to an area filled with military vehicles, where they were to park. The trail leading the two hundred yards to the temple was now a dirt road, cleared and widened to get equipment and staff to the area. Armed soldiers lined the track every dozen yards or so, and Sam and Remi could see that they were taking the security precautions seriously.
They arrived at what had been a dirt mound only hours before. It now resembled an anthill, with workers crawling over it and clearing soil under Antonio’s watchful eye. A large tent had been pitched nearby, along with a tarp suspended from four beams, under which technicians were setting up equipment accompanied by the steady drone of a generator.
“Antonio, did you get any sleep?” Remi asked as they approached the temple.
“A few hours. I knew I wasn’t going to get much and there’s work to be done here. As you can see, we’re clearing the exterior, with another team working inside. It will take some time to catalog everything.”
“And the Eye of Heaven?”
“Under guard in the base commander’s safe until we can fly it to Mexico City.”
“How long do you plan to be on-site here?”
“At least a week. I’ll be commuting back and forth between Teotihuacan and this site for a while. Both finds are monumental. For which the Mexican people owe you a deep debt of gratitude.”
“The work is its own reward, Antonio,” Remi said and Sam nodded.
Antonio pointed at an area near the flat roof of the temple that had been cleared and called out to the workers in Spanish, then turned his attention back to his guests.
“How is Lazlo?”
“He’ll recover.”
“Have you heard anything about Reginald?”
“Under arrest, being treated at the same medical facility. Reginald’s in guarded condition from blood loss, but he’ll survive,” Sam said.
“I wanted to talk to you about that. I don’t feel comfortable asking but I have to for the sake of my parents. Is there any way you could leave Maribela’s involvement with Benedict out of the official account?”
Sam and Remi smiled together. “We’ve already discussed it. As far as we’re concerned, she died in the line of duty,” Sam said.
“There’s nothing to be gained by tarnishing her memory,” Remi added.
“I thank you. You’ll never know how grateful I am.”
“We’re both very sorry about how this turned out . . . about her untimely death.”
Antonio looked off at the sparkling surface of the Gulf of Mexico, a distant expression on his face. When he returned his gaze to them, his eyes were moist.
“In spite of it all . . . she was my sister.”
Sam nodded as Remi swallowed hard.
“I know, Antonio. I know.”
LA JOLLA, CALIFORNIA
Four days later, and one good night’s sleep, Sam and Remi sat in the kitchen, gazing at the cobalt blue of the Pacific stretching to Japan. Selma brought a pot of coffee and set it next to her tea. She cleared her throat as she sat down opposite and studied them. “You two look tan and fit.”
“Yes, lounging around Mexico seems to agree with us,” Sam said.
“I’d say you had a healthy dose of Fargo excitement,” Selma commented.
“Oh, you know, the usual,” Remi said. “Gunfire, cartel killers, hidden treasure. All in a day’s work . . .”
Sam sipped his coffee as Selma filled them in on the news since they’d been gone. Kendra had finally been offered her dream job at the University of California at San Diego and would be starting the following week.
