The Maya Codex (51 page)

‘No point,’ O’Connor replied, shouldering his own backpack, which contained the other two. ‘Langley will have a twenty-four-hour satellite footprint over this place, and they’ll already have this vehicle fingered. But once we get over the bridge, it will be hard for them to track us under the canopy. They’ll need people on the ground, although they’ll be working on that too.’ O’Connor negotiated the rickety rope bridge and Aleta followed, treading warily on the worn cedar logs that swayed above the swift-flowing river nearly ten metres below. Safely on the other side, O’Connor led the way, pushing through the foliage along the narrow track that wound towards the old Mayan village. Suddenly he stopped, and Aleta almost cannoned into him. He moved off the track, motioning Aleta to follow. ‘We’ve got company again,’ he mouthed, putting his finger to his lips and pointing up the track.

Aleta peered through the thick jungle, but she could see nothing. ‘More assets?’ she whispered.

‘I’m not sure. It could be men from the village … I caught a movement about 150 metres away.’

Aleta jumped as the jungle parted beside her and José Arana stepped into view.

‘You are right to be cautious. Your enemies are not far from here; they arrived in Tikal last night.’

‘You startled me, José!’ Aleta remonstrated, her heart still racing.

‘You didn’t waste any time, O’Connor said, acknowledging Arana’s mastery of the jungle.

Arana smiled disarmingly. ‘There is very little time to waste. Follow me, and we’ll join the welcoming party.’

In the seventy intervening years since Levi Weizman had been in the village, little had changed. There had been a small increase in the population, but smoke from the same cooking fires drifted towards the river. The women still soaked maize kernels in lime, grinding them into
masa
dough, and the griddles were warming, ready for the tortillas. The dinner menu hadn’t changed much either: a savoury aroma of chicken simmering in jalapeno chillies, diced peppers, oregano and limes wafted into the jungle. The younger women, the grand-daughters of those Levi had observed, had taken over the task of working the backstrap looms and they were weaving the
huipils
and
traje
in the same bright colours and designs that identified the village.

The elders, the descendants of those who had once ruled Tikal, were dressed in their traditional red and yellow cotton shirts,
pan-talons
and straw hats. O’Connor and Aleta were solemnly introduced. No one knew better than the elders the magnitude of what might be about to take place.

56

TIKAL, GUATEMALA

E
llen Rodriguez arrived in Tikal in a nondescript embassy four-wheel drive bearing local plates. She scanned the car park of the Jungle Lodge for any sign of the Toyota reported by the guard at the park gates, but no vehicle fitted that description. After checking into her room, she took a mango juice in the lobby and waited until the desk was manned by just one of the staff, an older dark-skinned man with a thin black moustache.

‘Would it be possible to see the guest list?’

‘I’m sorry, senora, but it’s against company policy.’

Rodriguez slipped him a 200-quetzale note.

‘But I will see what I can do,’ he said, his face expressionless as he pocketed the money. A short while later, he returned with a sealed envelope.

Back in the privacy of her room, Rodriguez worked her way down the list. She knew O’Connor too well to expect him to book in under his own name, but she was looking for two people, a man and a woman, who might have checked in some time after the report from the gate guard. Rodriguez came to the end of the list and sighed with frustration. No one had checked in as a couple, or two singles in the timeframe. So where were O’Connor and Weizman, she wondered. She looked at her watch. It was time to meet with the latest thugs Wiley had organised from Washington. Rodriguez smiled grimly to herself. The chase for O’Connor had left a trail littered with bodies, and she was beginning to hope that her old colleague might prevail again, but with five assets deployed, she knew the odds were now stacked even more heavily against him. Tomorrow was the winter solstice, and soon O’Connor would have to come out into the open.

Wiley’s assets were supposed to rendezvous with Rodriguez near the base of Pyramid I, pretending to be part of a night tour of the ruins, but as she approached the Great Plaza, Howard Wiley detached himself from the main tourist group. Rodriguez stifled a gasp. No matter how important an operation was to Washington, it was unprecedented for the Deputy Director of Operations to appear in the field. If someone in Tikal recognised Wiley from a Senate hearing in Washington, the whole operation would be compromised.

‘I’m taking personal command, Rodriguez. This operation’s been a balls-up from the word go. You can brief me in your room.’

‘But, sir … the assets … ’

‘They’re under my direct command. This time I want no mistakes.’

‘Would you like something to drink, sir?’ Rodriguez asked as she closed the door to her bungalow. Her tone was icy.

‘A scotch.’

Rodriguez handed him a miniature Johnny Walker Red Label from the room service bar.

‘So what do you have?’ Wiley demanded.

‘O’Connor and Weizman entered the park about two hours ago, but since then they’ve not been sighted. I’ve checked the records of the hotel, but no one has arrived in the timeframe. For the moment, they’ve disappeared, but they can’t be far away.’

‘Langley has a satellite image of a vehicle on what looks to be a disused track,’ Wiley said. ‘We’ve also got real-time footage of two people crossing a bridge, but after that they were lost to the jungle canopy.’ He pulled a map of the ruins of Tikal and the surrounding area out of his soft leather attaché case and laid it on the coffee table. ‘My guess is that they’re headed for this village here.’

‘And the assets?’

‘Three of them have been deployed in the ruins, with instructions to shoot on sight.’

‘You don’t think that might attract attention?’

‘I don’t give a fuck, Rodriguez. There are enough shoot-outs between Mexican drug lords in this part of the world to rival John Wayne on steroids. The other two assets are on their way to the village. If the two people crossing the bridge were Tutankhamen and Nefertiti, we’ll get them there. Either way, they’re cactus.’

‘So what about the codex? Wouldn’t it be better to keep them under observation until they lead us to it?’

‘That’s the problem with you, Rodriguez – you leave too much to chance. It probably hasn’t occurred to you, but whatever information our friends picked up around Lake Atitlán, they’ll have on them. I’m just as capable of deciphering that as they are. Now, do you have anything else?’

‘You and Langley seem to have it pretty well covered,
sir
. ’

‘Good.’ Wiley drained his scotch and folded the map. ‘I’m in Bungalow Eleven. If anything breaks out at that tin-pot organisation you run in Guatemala City, I’m to be informed immediately.’

More than one door closed as Wiley left. The other was the silent sound of a door closing on a career to which Rodriguez had devoted her entire working life. With only hours to go to the winter solstice, and the second experiment in Operation Aether, she set her cell phone alarm for 3 a.m.

57

TIKAL, GUATEMALA

The two assets moved silently along the jungle track towards the village where Arana and the elders, along with O’Connor and Aleta, were deep in conversation around the central fire. All listened carefully as Aleta outlined Levi Weizman’s notes on the confluence of the sun’s winter solstice rays with the crystals embedded in the gold-rimmed obsidian at the top of each figurine.

‘The second map was given to my grandfather by your predecessors,’ she said, laying the ancient
huun
bark document out on the ground. ‘It’s a precise triangle that corresponds to the angles between Pyramids I, IV and V.’

Arana nodded quietly in approval.

‘My grandfather found the male figurine, the one with the male jaguar at its base, in Pyramid I, so I’m surmising that at the solstice tomorrow, the male figurine should be positioned on top of the Pyramid I roof comb. Each figurine has a hole in the base in the shape of the Greek letter Φ, and they’re each in a different position on the base, so it’s possible that may assist with the positioning.’

Again, Arana nodded in agreement.

‘If my theory is correct,’ Aleta continued, ‘the female figurine with the jaguar and her cubs needs to be positioned on top of Temple IV, where it came from originally. The final neutral figurine needs to be positioned on top of Temple V, where my grandfather discovered it, and where it can capture the deflected rays from both the male and female figurines.’

‘You have done well, Aleta, but what then?’ Arana prompted.

‘It’s hypothesis, but I’m hoping my grandfather was right when he theorised that the final beam deflection will indicate the location of the codex.’

‘The problem is, José,’ O’Connor interjected, ‘we’ll need help to safeguard the figurines once they’ve been positioned —’

A blood-curdling scream, followed closely by another, pierced the jungle foliage.

‘Two of your enemies have been foolish enough to approach the village on the main track,’ said Arana. ‘If they were skilled in moving through the jungle at night, they might have been more difficult to detect, but there are more than twenty warriors protecting the village.’ He turned towards the village elders and consulted with them in the ancient language of the Maya. The village chief occasionally glanced at Aleta with a questioning look. Was this the one who had been sent to unlock the secrets of the Maya Codex?

‘The elders are in agreement,’ Arana said finally. You have both done remarkably well to get this far, and perhaps the time is upon us; but we can’t help you position the figurines. Our forefathers were very clear that the codex would be found only by the one who was destined to do so. Our warriors can guard the figurines once you have placed them; but once again I must warn you, the codex itself is fiercely protected.’ Arana looked gravely at Aleta. ‘Even more so than the figurine you discovered in Lake Atitlán, although the principle of balance remains the same.’

It was well past midnight by the time the warriors from the cordon around the village had silently assembled, their war paint gleaming in the flickering firelight.

‘It’s time we moved,’ Arana said to Aleta and O’Connor. ‘Sunrise is at 6.49 a.m., which is a little over three hours from now.’ He nodded to the warriors and four of them immediately set off along the old jungle track that led back towards the bridge and the ancient Mayan ruins.

‘Aren’t we going with them?’ Aleta asked.

‘That’s the scout party,’ O’Connor said. ‘If any of Wiley’s guerrillas are lying in wait, they’ll give us early warning.’

Aleta shivered. ‘Probably with their lives,’ she replied bitterly.

‘They’ll do that willingly,’ Arana told her. ‘Sacrifice for the greater good is part of Mayan culture.’

A spine-tingling roar carried through the mists of the jungle. One of Tikal’s few remaining jaguars was on the prowl.