The Mayan Resurrection by Steve Alten Read Free Book Online Page B

the tip of her shoe driving high into the man’s groin. As the soldier drops to his knees, the ball of her left foot smashes into Magierski’s face, snapping his head back.
     
    The soldier collapses in a heap.
     
    Elias searches Magierski’s belt for the handcuff keys. He tosses them at Dominique as three Mayan vendors drag the unconscious soldier’s body into the high grass.
     
    A dozen more push the jeep off the side of the road and into a ditch.
     
Salt Lake City, Utah
     
    Peter Mabus lies back in the dressing room chair, allowing his makeup man to finish dabbing at the dark circles beneath his eyes.
     
    A knock and the dressing room door opens. Joseph Randolph enters, followed by a slight, gray-haired Caucasian in his late sixties. The nerdy-looking man wears wire-rimmed glasses and is dressed in a wool suit and black bow tie.
     
    ‘He’s had enough primping.’ Randolph ushers the makeup artist out and shuts the door. ‘Pete, this is Solomon Adashek, the man I was telling you about.’
     
    Mabus sits up, his piggy eyes taking in the visitor. ‘No offense, Joe, but he looks more like my goddam CPA than a hired assassin.’
     
    Solomon Adashek remains expressionless. ‘It only takes the strength of a child to pull a trigger, Mr. Mabus. The keyto eradicating one’s target is to get close without arousing suspicion. If you’d prefer to hire a goon, I’ll take my services elsewhere.’
     
    ‘No, you’ll do. The girl’s in the Yucatán, I’m sure Joe’s briefed you. I want her and the soldier who found her eliminated without a trace.’
     
    Solomon nods, then leaves the dressing room, quietly closing the door behind him.
     
    ‘Creepy little shit, ain’t he?’
     
    ‘What’s important is that he’ll get the job done without complications,’ Randolph says. ‘Guy’s former CIA, as cold and unfeeling as a reptile. Spent a lot of time in the Soviet Union as a mole. Returned home after the Cold War ended and wigged out. Torched his mother’s home, killing her and her live-in nurse. Served six years and was released on parole. Bit of a pedophile, but he’s calmed down over the years.’
     
    ‘Maybe we ought to send him after Chaney?’
     
    ‘One step at a time, my friend. One step at a time.’
     
Chichén Itzá, Yucatán Peninsula 10:17 p.m.
     
    The nocturnal jungle is alive with humidity, and chirps, and the ghosts of the dead. Dense brush cuts Dominique’s ankles and lashes out at her neck. Mosquitoes buzz her ears. A flutter of wings takes the air overhead beneath the canopy of trees.
     
    The heaviness of the woods presses in on her, whispering into her ear. She grips Elias Forma’s hand tighter, afraid shewill lose him in the darkness. And yet she feels safer here than she does in the real world, knowing that someone out there wants her dead.
     
    Like it or not, you’re Alice in Wonderland, chasing a rabbit down its hole, and there’s no turning back now.
     
    In time they come to a clearing. Dark-skinned Mayan elders squat around a campfire. Dominique recognizes the
H’Menes
, the same men who helped her and Mick climb down into the sacred well in Chichén Itzá six weeks earlier.
     
    A lifetime ago …
     
    The wise men are descendants of the
Sh’Tol brethren
, a sacred Mayan society that escaped the wrath of the Spaniards back in the fifteenth century.
     
    Elias greets the frail, white-haired leader of the group with a hug. ‘Dominique, this is my grandfather, Ocela, the man you seek.’
     
    Dominique extends her hand. ‘Hope you remember me, I’m a friend of Michael Gabriel. I need to speak to you about the Creation Myth.’
     
    Ocela takes her hand in both of his, then speaks to Elias in a language she cannot comprehend.
     
    ‘My grandfather says he will do all he can to assist First-Mother.’
     
    ‘Now see, that’s why I’m here. Who’s First-Mother, and why is he calling me that?’
     
    Ocela smiles a toothless grin, then touches her stomach.
Yaya