The Roswell Conspiracy (32 page)

There was a finger-width gap between each of the beams. He held the lantern up to one of the gaps, and the iridescent sheen of the multi-hued xenobium reflected the light. From the limited view he had, it looked to be an oblong specimen the size of a plum.

The gaps were too small to fit his hand through, and even if he could have, the xenobium specimen was too large to extract.

The Nazca must have created a way to retrieve it. But how?

Then he noticed that wooden handles extended from the disks. He looked closer and saw that drawings of the Nazca zodiac symbols were etched around the rim of each of the disks.

That had to be it. If the disks were rotated to a particular alignment, the wooden beams would slip off their main supports and fall into disk’s slots like the tumblers in a lock. Tyler supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised about such a sophisticated design from a people who had created the wealth of lines on the Nazca plateau, but it was an amazing revelation all the same.

“Can you get it?” Jess said.

“Let me give it a try.”

Tyler grabbed hold the handle attached to the topmost disk and pulled to his right until the spider figure was aligned with the hummingbird figure in the disk below.

Just as he suspected, a wooden beam slid down a few inches into the topmost disk.

What he wasn’t expecting was the cascade of bricks that fell from the roof. He hugged the pillar and they barely missed him as they crashed to the floor.

When the dust cleared, Jess said, “What the hell happened?”

“I got a little overconfident.”

“Surprise, surprise.”

“At least we know what happened in that other room. They had a similar pillar setup in there and some tomb raiders found out the hard way that the Nazca didn’t want anyone but the gods messing with their stuff. It’d take a week to dig through there and see what they were after.”

Jess gazed at the pillar. “You mean, if those disks are turned in the correct pattern, the wooden beams fall far enough to let you get at the xenobium, but if you don’t align them perfectly—”

“We get buried under a few hundred tons of bricks. Some of the wooden beams seem to act as keystones. Drop a couple of the wrong ones down into the slots, and it would start a chain reaction.”

“You say the symbols from the Nazca lines are on the disks?”

“Some of them, but I don’t have any idea how they should line up to get the xenobium out. I could try to pry the beams apart, but I’m afraid I’d bring down the entire roof.”

Jess looked thoughtful then broke out her smart phone, to which she’d transferred the cave photos they’d emailed from Easter Island. After scanning it for a few minutes, she said, “Are all twelve symbols on every disk?”

Tyler walked around the pillar, counting each of the drawings etched into the stone.

“All of them are here,” he said. “Why?”

“Because I think I know why the Nazca symbols were connected by lines. The map shows each of the drawings connected from the Mandala through each other all the way to Cahuachi. What if the lines were drawn to show the gods how to unlock the xenobium?”

“It’s a combination lock.” Tyler gaped in awe of the Nazca people’s ingenuity. “The stone disks are the dials. But what’s the zero position?”

“The Nazca apparently liked lines. See if you can find one above the top disk.”

Tyler did another circumnavigation on the top riser and sure enough, there it was. He’d missed it before because it was just a single notch. It lined up with a notch below the bottom disk.

“Found it. Okay. Tell me the order.”

“One problem. I don’t know whether the Nazca would order them from top to bottom or bottom up.”

“What’s your best guess?” Tyler asked. “We’ve got a fifty-fifty shot.”

“As long as my theory about the combination is correct,” Jess said. “All right. They drew the lines leading from the Mandala to here through the constellation symbols. They were leading the gods to the xenobium. That means the disk symbols should go in the same order.”

“So you think the top disk would be the last symbol the line on the Nazca plain goes through?”

“Or it could be top down because the gods would start in the heavens.”

“But then the xenobium would be underneath the disks. I think your first instinct was right. We’ll start with the bottom and work our way to the top.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jess asked. “After that preview of the collapse, we may not get a second chance.”

“If Colchev gets here and figures out what we did, he could walk away with the xenobium before we get back with any kind of force. And if I fail, at least he won’t get his hands on it.”

“Don’t even say that.”

“Believe me, if this starts to buckle, I’m going to run like hell. Stand over by the exit in case this doesn’t work.”

Jess hesitated, then reluctantly moved to the passageway opening.

“Now what’s the first symbol?” Tyler asked.

“The spider.”

Tyler found the tarantula and rotated the bottom disk until the etching was matched up with the line.

“Next?”

“The condor,” Jess said. “Don’t mix it up with the hummingbird.”

“Bigger wingspan on the condor, I assume.” He rotated the second stone disk until the condor was above the spider.

They continued on in the same way for the next nine symbols. None of the wooden beams had moved, but Tyler wasn’t expecting them to until he reached the last disk.

“What’s the last symbol?” Tyler asked. His back ached from pulling on the heavy disks.

“The astronaut.”

“Okay,” Tyler said. “Get ready to run if this doesn’t work.”

“If you start to feel it buckling, get out of there.”

“I will.” Tyler put his hands on the disk’s handle and paused to look at Jess. “I’ve often thought about running into you again. I’m glad I did.” He smiled. “It’s been fun.”

Before she could reply, he pulled the handle. The disk ground against the other stones as it rotated. Tyler put every bit of remaining strength he had into the final heave.

The astronaut etching lined up with the notch and something snapped inside the column. Two of the wooden beams fell all the way into their slots on the pillar. Tyler prepared to jump, but all the other beams remained in place.

The xenobium gleamed from its honored resting place nestled on a cradle of obsidian glass, within reach of human hands for the first time in over a thousand years.

“It worked!” Jess yelled.

Tyler exhaled sharply. “And I’m not dead!”

“That too.”

He used the crowbar to nudge the xenobium out of its holder, and the ovoid relic fell out, thumping onto the top riser before rolling off and coming to rest on the floor of the chamber. Tyler clambered down, took the lead-lined apron out of his pack, and carefully wrapped it around the specimen.

“Is it safe to hold?” Jess asked.

Tyler ran the radiation meter over it. “Not for long. I’ll be getting an x-ray-equivalent dose every two minutes while I’m carrying it.”

“Then let’s go.” She scooped it up.

“Let me hold it,” Tyler said.

“You’ve been next to it for ten minutes already.” She walked quickly toward the exit while Tyler followed carrying both lanterns. “That officer is going to be pretty surprised at what he missed.”

“We can’t tell him,” Tyler said. “If the Peruvian government finds out what we’ve done, they’ll lock us up and who knows what will happen to the xenobium.”

“What about Nana?”

“We’ll leave the pyramid open when we exit. Once Colchev finds out we have the xenobium,
he’ll
find
us
.”

They retraced their path out of the pyramid. When they reached the opening, Jess climbed out first. But before Tyler could do the same, she barreled back down the steps.

“What happened?”

“It’s them!”

“Colchev? Where?”

“At the parking area. I saw his gray hair. He’s got two men with him.”

“And Fay?”

Jess nodded. “They’ve got her, Tyler. And they’re coming this way.”

FORTY-SIX

Grant munched on a second breakfast burrito, the salsa running down his hand. From his position he had a good view of the house where they were expecting the Killswitch to arrive. The food vendor had been only too happy to rent out his truck for the day at a reasonable mark-up. Although the vehicle was closed for business, with the awning rolled up and side window closed, its familiar presence wouldn’t arouse suspicion to any occupants in the drug gang’s hideaway.

In the hour they’d been observing the home, no one had come or gone. Grant thought they might be in for a long wait, so he helped himself to the vendor’s supplies. He figured it should be included in the price.

“How can you eat that?” Morgan said with a measure of disgust on her face.

“Easy,” he said, and stuffed the rest of it in his mouth. “Best burrito I’ve had in months. Seattle isn’t known for its Tex-Mex.”

“I don’t want to think about what kind of meat that is.”

“Doesn’t matter. My stomach’s like an iron cauldron.” He wiped his hands on a paper towel. “This was a great idea, if I do say so myself.”

“I won’t be able to get the smell of taco sauce out of my hair for weeks.”

Grant rubbed his bald head. “You could always try my hairstyle.”

“It wouldn’t look as good on me.”

“Why, Agent Bell, is that a compliment?”

She snorted in feigned exasperation, but she also turned red. Grant smiled. It seemed like he was starting to make an impression.

A van approaching from the opposite direction slowed to turn onto the side street where the house sat.

Grant and Morgan donned their goggles. Bright red crosshairs bloomed on the back of the van.

“We have a winner,” Grant said.

The gate to the house slid aside, and the garage door opened. The van pulled inside, and the door closed behind it.

Morgan took off the goggles and radioed Benitez. “That’s our van. The explosives are in the house.”

“We’re ready to move in.”

“Remember, no one touches the explosives except us. When the house is secure, Westfield and I will take possession of the explosives and bring the couriers into custody.”

“Understood. We move in two minutes.”

“Copy that.”

They weren’t going for subtlety in this operation. Two tactical teams would approach the house, one from the front and one from the back to make sure no one escaped. Everyone on the team had gas masks. Benitez had wanted to use concussion grenades for the breach, but Morgan was afraid of damaging the Killswitch, so she insisted on tear-gas grenades instead, telling him that the explosives might be detonated by the concussive blast.

Three men would cover the garage door in case the targets attempted to escape in the van. The rest of them would go through the front door, prepared to shoot anyone who resisted.

Once they found the Killswitch, Benitez would provide escort back to the American border, where they would secure the weapon until the Air Force could arrange for protective transport back to Wright-Patterson.

Grant squeezed into his ballistic vest and put his helmet on over his mask. Morgan did the same.

“You don’t have to go in with us,” she said, her voice muffled.

“You think I’m going to wait in the truck?” Grant said.

“I dragged you along on this. It’s not your job.”

“Morgan, I’ve done this kind of raid dozens of times in Iraq and Afghanistan. If there’s a better way to get the adrenaline pumping, I don’t know what it is.”

“You enjoy this?”

“You don’t?”

“Flying does it for me.”

“Taking down bad guys does it for me.”

“If that’s true, why aren’t you still in the Army?”

“Because I hate sleeping in barracks and eating MREs.” There was a lot more to it than that, but Grant wasn’t going to go into the details now.

Benitez’s voice came through the radio. “We’re set to move in, Agent Bell.”

“Ready here,” she said.

“Do not get out of the truck until my unit is deployed.”

“Understood.”

Grant positioned himself at the food truck’s rear door, his M4 assault rifle at the ready. Morgan checked her own weapon twice. Her breathing quickened to the point that she sounded like Darth Vader hyperventilating.

“Have you ever done this before?” Grant asked.

She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “Only in simulations.”

Grant fell back on his days as a sergeant leading soldiers fresh out of boot camp into battle.

“Remember to verify your targets before firing. This probably won’t take more than thirty seconds, but if it does, things will get confusing fast. Stay with me and you’ll be okay.”

She gave him a thumbs-up with a rock-steady hand, and her breathing slowed.

The tactical team’s truck sped past them, its tires squealing as it came to a stop in front of the house. Men in full assault gear spilled from the rear.

“That’s our cue,” Grant said, and threw open the back door.

He ran at top speed around the corner until he was in the shelter of the massive black truck, Morgan on his heels the whole way. He took up a position next to Captain Benitez, who gave a command in Spanish.

A policeman took aim with the grenade launcher. With a thud, the tear-gas grenade shot across the fence and through the front window with a perfect bulls-eye.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

As smoke billowed from the target house, a hail of gunfire rained down from the homes to the left and right of it, taking out two of the policemen in the first few seconds.

The police opened up, and the neighborhood was instantly transformed into a war zone.

Grant saw a face appear in the window to his left. He took aim and fired. For a soldier trained to hit targets at over two hundred yards without a scope, the distance to the neighboring house across the street was practically point-blank range. The man’s head disappeared in a red mist.

Morgan fired her own weapon, but Grant didn’t take the time to see if she hit anything.

Bullets from high-powered rifles continued to slam into the tactical vehicle. The armor would protect them, but Grant knew that some of these drug cartels carried heavy weaponry like rocket-propelled grenades. If they used one of those, the situation would deteriorate quickly.