“No problemo,” Cade said. “Coffee?”
She nodded and he poured out another cup. “I just wish we were doing something, anything, to get Dad back. I feel like I’m letting him down. I mean, he’s in the clutches of this Danvers man and I’m just sitting here drinking coffee.”
“And eating pancakes covered in syrup,” Riley said.
“Thank you,” she said, pushing the plate away. “Suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore.”
Acosta stepped out of the room with his phone in his hand. He saw the pile of fresh pancakes and his eyes widened. “Sabroso!”
“Any news about Danvers?” Decker asked Cade. “Your CIA friends come through for us?”
“Sure,” Cade said nonchalantly. “He flew out of Havana a few hours ago.”
Selena sat up on her chair, a nervous look in her eyes. “Destination?”
“Miami.” Cade swallowed the last of his coffee and belched loudly. “Which is my hometown. I can’t wait to show you guys around.”
Selena waved the foul air away from her face with a frown. “Thanks ever so much.”
“Welcome.”
Decker set his coffee cup down and pushed back from the table. “Let’s pick up Charlie and get to the airport as fast as we can. We can be in Miami around an hour after take-off.”
31
Miami Beach, Florida
Tarántula didn’t like the look in the Snake King’s eyes. The man from Acapulco was a hardened gang boss and there was nothing imaginable he had not seen or done. On his journey from the backstreets of Progreso to the luxury condominiums of Cancún, he had met every kind of man and woman and thought he had nothing new to learn. And yet this man, this Danvers, had a crazed look in his eye he had never seen before.
He lit a long Cuban cigar and leaned back on his recliner, studying the Canadian academic a little more closely, in the way he might examine an ant crawling around the inside of an upturned glass. They were sitting on the sun deck of the Holcan, the Snake King’s luxury yacht, moored in the Miami Beach Marina. At any other time, the atmosphere would be calm, relaxing. A good time to chill out and let the gentle bobbing of the yacht lull you into a soft, warm doze.
But no, not now.
Now, the Snake King had removed the tarp and was staring into the strange swirling metal once again, desperately mumbling to himself as he tried to see another snippet from the future.
“Why is it not working?” he mumbled. “Why are the gods denying me?”
Tarántula noticed a look of scepticism on the faces of his two most loyal lieutenants, Carlos and Miguel Mercado. The older of the two seemed more than sceptical. He looked like he wanted to kill the Snake King and throw his dead body overboard. But then, that was how he looked at everyone. More interesting was the look on the faces of the two kidnapped academics.
“You think the Snake King cannot read the future, huh?” he said to Atticus.
“I think he is quite insane,” Atticus said.
The Snake King was out of earshot at the end of the deck, still staring into the metal.
“He says he saw the future once before, old man. Back in the cave.”
“He saw nothing of the sort,” Atticus said. “As I say, he is out of his mind and so are you for following him.”
“Maybe you should stop wagging your tongue before I cut it out?” Tarántula said coolly. To emphasize the point, he pulled an old Mexican switchblade from his pocket and opened it up with a slick metallic click. The polished steel and ivory handle glinted in the sun. “You agree?”
Atticus said nothing.
“Why are you doing this?” Salvador Diaz said. “Just… why?”
“Ah!” called out the Snake King. “I am beginning to see again!”
He was crouched down close to the capstone, leaning into its strange surface only inches away and hyperventilating with excitement. “I see the future again! Your friends are on their way here… I see them, they are walking to the yacht.”
Tarántula and the Mercado brothers exchanged a look and readied their weapons. Novarro and Diablo flicked cigarettes into the water. “If they are, then they are dead,” Diablo said.
“We must work faster,” the Snake King said. “Professor Diaz, I require your services.”
The old man hesitated, but moved when Miguel Mercado pushed the muzzle of his gun up against his temple. “Move, you old fool.”
Diaz made his way over to the other side of the sun deck. “What do you want?”
“You will activate the device.”
“Are you insane? Here? In Miami Beach?”
The Snake King stared at him with dead eyes. “Miguel, give Sanchez a call. Tell him he can have his fun with the Professor’s niece, with my compliments.”
“No! Please!”
“Then make the device work.”
Diaz crumbled and walked over to the capstone, a broken man. “I will do as you ask, but I might need help. There are some inscriptions on here which I cannot understand.”
The Snake King turned to Atticus, staring at him through his mask. “Do it.”
“I will not!” Atticus said.
The response was instant. The Snake King looked at Diablo. No words were necessary. Diablo padded over to the old archaeologist and punched him in the face, knocking him back into his seat. The blow hurt like hell and made his head spin. Atticus knew further resistance was futile. If he failed to comply, Danvers would escalate from simply thuggery and make the same threat against poor Diaz’s niece. He sighed, got up from his chair and walked over to the capstone. Giving Diaz a sympathetic look, he began to work on the inscription.
“I can read this,” he said. “It’s telling us to remove
