CHAPTER FOURTEEN DIRKSEN SENATE OFFICE BUILDING WASHINGTON, DC

DIRKSEN SENATE OFFICE BUILDING

WASHINGTON, DC

January 9

Roth had been to several major Comic-Cons during his career as an author, but he’d never been to the US Capitol building. When the SUV drove past it, he glanced at its retreating shape. “Wait, I thought we were going to the Capitol?”

The boys were in the back seat of the SUV with Jordan. Monica sat next to him in a bucket seat in the second row. The windows were tinted dark. One FBI agent drove, another rode shotgun. Dr. Estrada and Illari were in a different vehicle on a different route.

“We are,” Monica said.

“How come we just passed it?”

“You don’t enter through the front doors, Jonathon. We’ll enter through one of the Senate office buildings. The House office buildings are on the other side of the Capitol”—she pointed to the far end of the Capitol—“and the Senate ones are on this side. There are three. Which one are we going through?” she asked, leaning toward the agent riding shotgun.

“Dirksen,” replied the agent stiffly.

They were on Constitution Avenue and passed behind the Capitol building. The agent stopped at a stoplight and then continued.

“Boys, that’s the Supreme Court,” Roth said excitedly. He hadn’t realized it was right behind the Capitol.

The Dirksen building looked like many of the structures in downtown DC. It was like the center of the city had been designed after ancient Athens, with temples devoted to politics instead of Greek gods. The building was multiple stories tall, made of gray stone, and had sharp angles, a triangular roof, and square pillars. The entrance was on First Street, but there was a barrier preventing vehicles from entering the street, four retractable metal barricades with the word “Stop” on them, along with some swiveling rails like the kind that blocked a railroad. A few orange cones sat in the street as well. As soon as the SUV began to turn toward the blockade, they were waved ahead by a uniformed police officer. One section of the barrier went down, and the bar came up.

Trees lined the front of the building, where the SUV pulled up to the doors and then stopped in the middle of the street.

The agent in the passenger seat got out first, examining the road both ways. His sunglasses and suit gave him an impressive air. Two more agents strode up from the tree line, looking both ways.

“They have security waiting for us,” Jordan said. “Nice touch, Monica.”

“Brower arranged it,” Monica said. “Let’s move.” She opened the door and got out first, followed by Roth and then the kids. Jordan shut the door behind him, and the SUV took off. Another SUV drew up behind theirs, and Dr. Estrada and Illari Chaska exited. Roth thought Illari looked very ill at ease. She clutched her laptop bag tightly.

“This way, please,” said the agent who had ridden with them. He took them to the large entrance under the triangle roof.

Roth felt a prickle of apprehension. It was disturbing that he felt safer on the streets of DC than he did walking into a secure location like a Senate office building.

The answer was obvious. Because it was more likely Jacob Calakmul had someone waiting for them inside than outside.

There were guards at the door, but when the lead FBI agent flashed his badge, the guard waved them in. They had to pass through a metal detector. Jordan had to put his Glock on the tray, along with his ID and carry permit, but he was allowed to retrieve his weapon and holster it again.

A lot of people were walking just past the security checkpoint, all well dressed, and most of them quite young. One of them stood waiting on the other side of the metal detectors, a younger man in his early twenties who was even taller than Jordan and had thick blond hair. He looked like a surfer, except he wore a suit and shiny tan loafers.

“I’m Daniel from Senator Coudron’s office,” he said. “Agent Sanchez?” He extended his hand to her, ignoring the other agents.

“Yes,” Monica answered, gripping his hand and shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Daniel.”

He passed out visitor badges to the guests, which they clipped to their shirts. One agent remained to trail them, and the other walked ahead. Monica stayed in the middle with Jordan, the Roths, Dr. Estrada, and Illari.

The twins started up a steady stream of chatter, haranguing Jordan with questions about DC, since he had served there as part of his army service at Arlington. Roth tuned out their conversation and glanced at Illari.

She met his gaze once and then looked away.

“I’m glad you had the data backed up,” he told her.

“I wish she’d told me,” Dr. Estrada sniped.

“This is bigger than you, bigger than me, bigger than any of us,” Roth said. “You flew close to the Jaguar Temple. You’re lucky to even be here.”

Illari looked down, holding her case as if it were her lifeline.

Estrada shrugged. “I know, Mr. Roth. I’ve spent my whole career exploring the ruins in Guatemala. The preserve in Mexico was always off-limits. Always. No matter how much the university offered. Now I understand why.”

Daniel brought them to a steep escalator heading down. The boys craned their necks, trying to soak in the sights. Roth looked back up the escalator, observing the FBI agent who was bringing up the rear, watching for anyone who might approach them from behind.

“Whoa, they have a cafeteria down here!” Brillante said excitedly as they made their way off the escalator.

“They have a Dunkin’ Donuts in one of the House office buildings,” Jordan told them conspiratorially.

“No way!” Lucas asked. “Are we getting food? I’m hungry again.”

“On our way out,” Monica said. “We’ve got a walk ahead of us. Like I said, we’re taking the underground tunnels to the Capitol.”

“They can’t be as cool as the underground tunnels in the jungle,” Lucas said. “Remember the one with the boats, Dad?”

How could Roth forget? “The tunnels led to a cenote, and there were dozens of plastic crates next to it full of gold from the Maya,” he said. “They used the underground rivers to transport the treasure from one ruin to another, I think.”

“You saw the artifacts?” Estrada asked inquisitively.

“For sure. Just a sample. I guess they must have hidden a lot of it away before the Spanish could get it.”

“They got a lot,” Estrada affirmed.

“We had to escape bad dudes who were chasing us,” Lucas continued for Jordan’s benefit. “There were inflatable boats in the cenote, so we all got into one, and Dad grabbed an ancient spear to stab the other boats so they’d go flat.”

“No way!” Jordan said, looking at Roth, impressed.

“Yeah, well, he almost fell in after he tried jumping into our boat,” Brillante said. “Big oof.”

Illari snickered at the story and tried to cover it. Her troubled look had softened into a smile. The boys’ energy was just infectious.

“Yeah, that was a near miss,” Roth agreed. “I’m not a very good swimmer.”

Monica hadn’t been kidding about the length of the walk. It was a maze under the building that led to some long, slightly inclined tunnels that were painted a pale, flat gray color with a variety of directional signs. When they finally reached the end of the long, narrow tunnel, they arrived at another set of escalators, which brought them into the underbelly of the Capitol building.

Roth found himself geeking out slightly about the historical building. The craftsmanship and statuary were incredible, and the paintings were all originals. They passed a few tour groups, led by staffers, as Daniel led them to the Senate side and then directly to a private conference room. The FBI agent in front went in first and then motioned for the rest to enter.

The room was dimly lit, the walls and furniture a dark mahogany. There were no external windows at all. A short man with salt-and-pepper hair was pacing at the end of the table. A pin on his gray suit proclaimed him a senator. He was no taller than the boys, and he looked overly nervous.

Monica told the final agent and the staffer, Daniel, to wait outside and prevent anyone from coming in.

“Welcome,” the senator greeted them with a tight smile. “I’m Senator Coudron.”

“Jonathon Roth. These are my twins, Brillante and Lucas.”

“And you are Dr. Estrada?” Senator Coudron asked.

“Yes. And my assistant, Illari.”

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. I have hearings all afternoon. In fact, I’m already late for one. But this is important to national security. Mr. Roth, or Jonathon, if I may?”

“That’s fine, Senator,” Roth said.

“I understand that your family had a life-threatening experience down in Mexico a year ago. It was in the news that your wife didn’t come back. A coma, I believe?”

“Yes, but as you probably know, she wasn’t in Singapore,” Roth explained. “We didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. I’m guessing you listened to the recording I made on Agent Sanchez’s phone?”

The senator nodded. “Yes, yes I did.” He started fidgeting, making Roth more uneasy. “One of my colleagues, a dear friend actually, has taken trips to Cancún for many years, often at the Calakmul resorts. We’ve known each other a long time. And he ... he suggested to me that I bring my family on a trip with him. He was quite insistent. From what I understand, that trip may have been my last.”

Jonathon swallowed. “Who is your friend?” They’d all remained standing, which was growing more awkward by the moment.

Senator Coudron walked to the mahogany table. A folder lay on it, and he flipped it open, removing a photograph of another senator. Roth recognized him instantly. He’d seen the man in the arena at the Jaguar Temple. One of the guests who had come to watch the game.

“He was there,” Roth whispered. Both of the twins approached and looked at the picture.

Coudron sighed. “This is very difficult, as you may imagine. My friend has been on the intelligence committee with me for several years. He has access to the highest security briefings imaginable.”

Which meant Jacob Calakmul did too.

“Mr. Roth, you were held there against your will. You didn’t know why you’d been brought down there?”

“We did not. Some friends of ours in Bozeman invited us at the last minute. They said another family wasn’t able to come.”

Coudron sighed again. “That family ... was mine,” he said softly. “Mr. Beasley was a significant contributor to my campaign.”

“You’re not from Montana,” Roth said, confused.

“No. Campaign contributions come from everywhere. I was grief stricken when I heard Eric and his family had died. And I’ve ... suspected there was more to it than what I read in the news. I followed your story closely, Mr. Roth. Do you know what happened to your wife?”

Roth shook his head no. “Calakmul kept her as a hostage.”

“I’m sorry,” the senator confessed. “I truly am. Dr. Estrada,” Coudron said, turning to the professor, “I understand your research into LiDAR technology may have revealed the location where this conspiracy originated.”

“Yes, Senator,” Estrada said. “I haven’t been inside the temple, not like this family has, but my pilot and I flew near it. We gave the location to the FBI.”

Senator Coudron looked queasy. “And you work for UC San Diego. You have no involvement with the government?”

“None. I’m an archaeology professor. We work with Qualcomm.”

Senator Coudron pulled out his cell phone. Sighing, he stared at the screen. Then he brought up a contact and dialed it.

“Director Wright. I’ve spoken to them. I’m convinced they’re telling the truth. You may proceed.”

Roth startled. The senator was speaking to the director of the FBI.

Coudron ended the call and turned to Monica. “We must do what we can to stop this disaster from unfolding any further. Timing is paramount. Now I must go attend the hearing. I’m sorry, Mr. Roth. Children. I’m sorry your family got dragged into this.”

Roth was dumbfounded. He shook Senator Coudron’s hand silently and watched as he left. The senator’s staffer, Daniel, hung back to escort them to the parking garage.

“Why do I have the feeling that something is going to happen that they didn’t tell us about?” Dr. Estrada said with a troubled look.

Monica had a serious expression. “I don’t know what operation he was referring to. It’s above my pay grade. Now we’re going to get you both back to your respective hotels.”

“I’ll take the Roths,” Jordan said.

“I’ll have a driver take you.”

Jordan shook his head. “We’ll catch an Uber. Better if you don’t know.”

Her brow furrowing, she said, “Lund is on his way to Dulles. You need backup.”

“We have backup in DC,” Jordan said. “But we’re close by. Trust me.”

Monica bit her lip with frustration. “I’ll take these two to where they’re staying. But call me when you’re safely back to your hotel.”

A sly smile lifted Jordan’s lips. “If you say so.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Roth rubbed his nose. It was horrible watching those two flirt with each other. “Let’s go?”

“I know my way back,” Monica said. “Daniel, take them out through the Russell Senate Office Building, and I’ll take these two through the Hart. Better leave from different buildings than the one we entered through.”

Roth understood immediately. If someone had followed them to the Dirksen building, then they might be waiting for them outside.

“Good thinking,” Jordan said. “Let’s go, Daniel.”

“Can we stop by the cafeteria and get something to eat?” Brillante asked.

“No way! The food here sucks. And so do the food trucks and food courts by the museums. Nasty. We’ll get take-out from somewhere nice. Somewhere legit.”

“Chick-fil-A?” Lucas asked eagerly.

“Decent,” Jordan said. “But it’s not the Cheesecake Factory. Remember, we gotta stay out of sight and check in to your new hotel.”

After they’d walked through the tunnels to the Russell building, Roth glanced at his watch and saw it was 2:30 p.m. His stomach was growling, but hunger wasn’t the only thing making his stomach twist. He and his family were involved in a huge international conspiracy. Lives were at stake. Including the president’s.

When they reached security, Jordan pulled out his cell phone and made a call. “This is Jordan. We’re leaving now and heading to lunch. Yeah ... Lund took my car. I’m going to need another one brought to the hotel. Leave the fob at the concierge for me. We’ll take an Uber. Thanks, bro.”

They headed through security, and then Jordan pulled up his Uber app and ordered a vehicle to take them to lunch.

“Is it good?” Lucas asked.

“You love cheesecake, right?” Jordan responded.

“How many do they have?”

“So many.” Jordan finished ordering the car. “It’ll be here in two minutes. Let’s go outside. It’ll drop us off nearby, and we’ll walk. Then we’ll take it back to the hotel to eat.”

Jordan led the way, checking both ways before motioning for them to come out. Roth and the boys followed. It was cold and breezy. The nervous pit in Roth’s stomach felt more like a black hole. Something felt off. Wrong. The street was empty of traffic, except for a few parked cars in front of the building.

“The Uber will have to pick us up at the corner,” Jordan said. “No other vehicles are allowed on this street.”

“That’s sus,” Lucas said, pointing to the wall alongside the sidewalk.

“What’s sus?” Roth asked, although he felt it too. Something was ... wrong.

“That,” he said.

Roth looked again. “What?”

“Don’t you see it? It’s ... it’s glowing.”

Brillante turned to look and went pale. “That’s a glyph.”

Roth couldn’t see it. “What does it look like?”

“An eye,” Lucas said.