CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR SAN GERVASIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL ZONE COZUMEL, MEXICO

SAN GERVASIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL ZONE

COZUMEL, MEXICO

January 10

It was a gut-wrenching feeling, like the Avatar ride at Disney World meeting Highway 17 through the Santa Cruz Mountains. When the motion suddenly stopped, Roth dropped to his knees and promptly began turning his body inside out once again. He smelled the jungle still, but there was a different odor here, a more tropical one.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jordan shouted in alarm. “What’s going on here?”

“Es okay, es okay,” said a comforting, familiar voice. Roth recognized it instantly. It was Jorge from Huellas de Pan.

“Captain! Captain! Where are you?” Jordan called out.

Roth wiped spittle from his lips on the back of his hand and looked up, still too dizzy to stand. He was kneeling in a parking lot, near a gift shop with a thatched roof. He recognized it as the parking lot of the ruins of San Gervasio in Cozumel.

Jordan had his rifle up and was aiming it at Jorge, who approached with his hands up in a soothing gesture. No one else was in the area.

“No hurt,” Jorge said. “No hurt.”

“Who is this guy? Where is everyone?” Jordan asked, his voice trembling with emotion. He’d just been in the middle of an intense situation and was still in soldier mode.

Suki stepped in front of the barrel of Jordan’s gun, and Roth almost swallowed his tongue. “Drop it, Jordan!”

“I don’t know who this is, friendly or not,” Jordan said. “Suki, step aside.”

“He’s our friend,” Suki explained. “Please ... just lower your weapon. I’ll talk to him.”

Jordan lowered his weapon and pulled his radio out. “Command, this is Eagle. Over.”

Jorge shook his head. “No work. It no work here.”

“Can someone tell me what in blazes is going on and what just happened?” asked a man with a strong British accent, rubbing the sleeve of his dirty shirt.

Roth struggled to stand and nearly dropped. The people around him had also been there on the pyramid top. The prisoners and rescuers had been teleported as a group. One of the army soldiers helped steady him. “Prime Minister, my name is Jonathon Roth. I was abducted too. This is my daughter, Suki. And this man is Jorge, who runs an orphanage here on the island of Cozumel.”

“Cozumel? Vat?” asked another man, this one with a German accent.

Roth took a deep breath. “Just ... give us a minute. If you please.” He turned to Suki. “I don’t speak Spanish very well, and Jorge doesn’t speak English very well. How are we going to talk to him?”

“Let me help,” Angélica offered. “I can translate.”

Suki turned to her. “A group of army people were supposed to be waiting for us. Find out what happened.”

Angélica looked out of place now in her bloody Maya dress, but if she felt self-conscious, it didn’t show. She spoke clearly and gently to Jorge, and Roth knew enough Spanish to recognize she was asking about the soldiers.

Jorge answered rapidly but with a smile and made several hand gestures to articulate his points.

“This place is sacred ground,” Angélica said. “Soldiers from the Mexican army were coming to attack the Americans.” She paused. “He said ... he said he told them all to leave.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Jordan answered brusquely. “I know Captain Rose. He never would have abandoned us without a fight.”

Jorge shook his head and rattled off more Spanish.

“There was no fight,” Angélica explained. “He told them to leave and wait for you at the beach. He will bring you all to them so you can return home.”

“What sort of nonsense is this?” the British PM demanded. “Who are you? Why would they strand us here voluntarily?”

Jorge’s face became stern. A blast of white-hot light exploded around them, just as it had on the pyramid in Calakmul. It was so bright it burned the eyes. Roth heard a strong, powerful voice utter a command in Spanish.

“?Iros!”It was Jorge. But it no longer sounded like him. It no longer looked like him either.

Just as they had atop the pyramid, they cowered before a being sheathed in lightning.

Then the light coalesced, just as it had with Ezequiel, until it was gathered around Jorge in a pillar. He looked dangerous—powerful—his eyes piercing to the soul.

“?Ahora me crees?”he asked with a tone of impatience.

“Now do you believe me?” Angélica gasped, translating for them.

Roth’s mind was still blown. Jorge was some powerful Maya demigod? When they were captured by Calakmul’s men at the orphanage, one of the security officers had held a gun to Jorge’s head. Why hadn’t he shown his power then?

“Yes, we believe,” Suki answered. She bowed her head to him.

Jorge frowned and motioned for her. “Up. Up. Es okay. Es okay.” The light dimmed, and then it was gone.

He began to speak quickly, gesturing as he did. He’d paused for Angélica to translate his words.

“This island is dedicated to Ix Chel. It is a place of healing. A place of rebirth. It will be a spiritual center of Kukulkán’s kingdom when he returns. No soldiers are permitted here. I was here the day that ...” She stopped, her eyes growing wide. Jorge gestured for her to repeat what he had said. “I-I was here the day that Cortés came with his soldiers. I have lived on this island for many, many years awaiting the fulfillment of Kukulkán’s promise. It is near. He is coming.”

Jorge tapped his chest. “Me llamo Jeremiah. Mi apodo es Jorge.”

“He said his name is Jeremy. No, Jeremiah. His nickname is Jorge.”

Jorge spoke again, slowly and deliberately.

“He and his two ... companions ... Ezequiel Cumenon, who we have met, and one other named Isaiah. These three have been the guardians of the prophecy. They have served the people of this land for ... for thousands of years. They will prepare the kingdom of Cemanahuac for Kukulkán’s return.”

Roth knew that word. Illari Chaska believed that someday all the people of Mesoamerica would be united under one government. A peaceful one. She’d called it Cemanahuac.

Roth nodded and then turned to the leaders. “The CIA told us that many of the ancient pyramids were glowing again. All through Mexico and down to Peru.”

“?Si!?Si!” Jorge exclaimed. Then he pointed. “?Mira!”

Beyond the tiki hut and the souvenir shops, Roth saw that the jungle was glowing brightly. It wasn’t the moon. Jorge spoke again with great emphasis.

“The time is coming soon,” Angélica translated. “Great plagues are coming. Wars among nations. Those who come to Cemanahuac will be healed and protected. Ours will be the only people not at war one with another. The good and the meek from all nations will gather here. Tell your people this. The jaguar priests are no more. Their cartels and their secret covenants are being purged. This will happen until the ... plague ... the ... consumption will end all nations.”

Headlights and the sound of an approaching car came up the road from the highway. Roth turned and looked and slowly, once again, made it to his feet. It was the van from Huellas de Pan that they’d ridden in before. He recognized the dad at the steering wheel.

Jorge waved them over to it.

“It will take us to the beach where the soldiers are waiting for us,” Angélica said.

Jordan looked questioningly at Roth. “Did you understand any of that?”

“They’re letting us go,” Roth said. “That’s what matters.” He looked at Angélica and touched her arm. “Thank you. I’m grateful you’re still alive.”

“It was Suki,” she answered. “She destroyed the obsidian mirrors. None of the jaguar priests can escape.”

Roth could imagine Ezequiel Cumenon chasing them down with his jagged sword. It made him smile. He squeezed her arm. “What about the people who gathered down there? Will they all be ... purged?” He thought of Moretti’s family. Did they even know what was going on? The thought of innocent kids dying made his stomach shrivel.

The van door opened, and the leaders climbed in. The British PM took the passenger seat.

Angélica turned to Jorge and asked Roth’s question.

Jorge looked at him with compassion and answered simply. “Only those who will not renounce the jaguar priests and their ways will be judged worthy of death.”

“That’s legit,” Suki said, nodding her head. “I think we should go. I’m sure Mom is pretty worried.”

Jorge took Suki by the hand and began to speak to her in Mayan. Suki listened intently, her eyes bulging with surprise. Then Jorge patted her hand and motioned for them to get into the van. Jordan was standing by the open door, waiting for them.

Angélica paused, then turned to Jorge and asked one short question. “?Me puedo quedar?”

Roth knew what she’d asked. Can I stay?

He looked at her knowingly. “Si. Para el ni?o.”

Angélica put her hands in her face and started to weep. What did that mean—“for the child”? Then he got it. Roth put his hand on Angélica’s shoulder as she wept.

“Your child will have a different future because of you. A better world. This is a real second chance.”

She raised her tear-stricken face to him, nodding mutely. There were a lot of emotions to unpack. Roth was grateful she’d switched sides in the end.

Suki tugged on his arm.

It was crowded in the van and frankly smelled pretty bad. But as the vehicle turned around and bumped down the road, Roth put his arm around his daughter and held her close.

“Thanks for saving me,” he whispered huskily and kissed her hair. “I ... I didn’t think I’d get to see you again. Any of you.”

Suki smiled with relief, rubbed her nose, then her eyes, which were beginning to tear up. “Mom can’t wait to see you.”