Georgio exploded with an array of expletives that would make any innocent person blush. 'He was my friend, loyal to our troop and to Dale Bright. I can't believe he's a bloody traitor. It was Caton who led us to safety on two missions and we treated him like a brother, yet here he is, commanding that small group and clearly the one who helped Samuel capture Dale's men. He placed the lives of all the men here in the hands of that monster. God help me if they are harmed because of his disloyal actions. I will kill him,' his threat so easily voiced that Adam knew he was not joking.

Without adding to the conversation, Georgio got up and began to hurry towards the vehicles. The meeting provided a few minutes of safety and they quickly scanned the group of eleven vehicles. There were two small jeeps, three large people movers, one high-powered four-wheel drive and five four-wheel drive trucks used to transport all of the equipment used on site. The logical choice was one of the small jeeps which were perfectly situated furthest away from the main living areas. They chose the last one, which was unlocked.

'Samuel must be feeling extremely secure, which makes me fear what might happen when he finds out we've infiltrated his camp. By observing the outer perimeter's checks, I'd say you have ten minutes at best to fetch Gillian.'

Adam did not delay. He ran back as fast as his legs could take him, returning with Gillian in exactly ten minutes. It was fortuitous that the meeting had only just broken up and they made their escape under the cover of a sudden and well-timed thunderous storm that passed overhead.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

Gillian, Adam and Georgio sped along the road under the cover of darkness and a passing storm. They had been fortunate enough to make an easy getaway, but Georgio did not sit on his laurels. He pushed the little six cylinder vehicle to the full extent of its power, taking the bends like a formula one race car. Gillian gripped the panic handle as if her life depended on it, only looking back just long enough to see Adam puke in the back seat. She grimaced in disgust but was able to sympathise with him; Georgio was driving like a man possessed.

The bumps, twists and turns became an endless roller-coaster as the vehicle rose to the challenge, leaping the obstacles and tilting on two wheels to avoid the road blocks. Eventually Georgio slowed and Gillian let out a long sigh of relief. 'What on earth was that?'

'Just trying to get us as far away as possible,' said Georgio.

'Do you even know where we're going?' asked Gillian.

'No, and I didn't see any other roads, did you?' said Georgio sheepishly.

'Palenque is north of our position and from what I can gather, we are travelling north-east. We'll miss it by miles at this rate,' said Gillian as she took out a small travelling compass.

'The best way to get there is via the tourist route, but it is likely Samuel would have radioed ahead to warn any scouts of our escape. This is the first place they'll look, leaving us little option but to find an alternative,' she added as she produced a small but accurate map of the ancient Mayan trade routes. 'If this map is correct, we must be less than half a mile away from the original Mayan roads.'

'Yeah, 600 year old roads that have likely vanished by now,' contributed Adam as he leant forward.

Gillian wrinkled up her nose. 'Your breath smells of vomit.'

Adam sat back in his seat.

'We've been lucky up until now, but if my ageing eyes are correct, I can see lights up ahead,' said Georgio.

'Me too,' agreed Adam.

'How far to this track?'

'We should be almost on it,' replied Gillian as Georgio swung immediately to the left. It was clear he was taking a risk, but he had calculated the distance between the oncoming vehicle and the time it would take to escape into the cover of the trees. He was left with no option but to hope Gillian was right.

Everyone held their breaths, fully expecting to dive over an unseen cliff or end up in an all too common quagmire, but the tyres held firm, striking a patch of dirt that had been compacted to concrete-like hardness after thousands of years of use.

'You're good, Gillian,' congratulated Adam as she grinned with a contented smugness.

'Yes, but we still have a long way to go,' noted Georgio as the four-wheel drive battled through the trees like a bulldozer, occasionally grinding against a fallen tree and unseen rock. The rain had also begun to ease which assisted Georgio with determining the direction of the old path. He was only thankful that the Mayans were known for their large and exceptionally maintained roads. Although they did not have vehicles or beasts of burden, these roads provided each city with their livelihood. They were as important to their society as the temples and homes. Even after years of uninhibited jungle growth, the roads remained, assisted by the numerous animals that continued to use them long after the Mayan civilisation fell into disrepair.

Gillian purposely did not disrupt Georgio from his task, choosing to use the time constructively and uncover the final remaining clue.

'Whilst we've got some time to kill, let's get to work on this last clue.' Her comments were met with silence and a lack of humour from Georgio who swerved to miss a wayward jaguar. His quick reaction and utter concentration saved them from catapulting down the ridge they were travelling over.

'Okay. Now I have a few moments,' Georgio grumbled as the terrain levelled.

'Unfortunately I can't read the second part of Kinix's diary due to the lack of light, but I do recall him writing about a visit to Palenque,' said Gillian.

'I'm sure he visited Palenque many times throughout his life, so what makes this visit so special?' queried Adam.

'On his arrival at Palenque, Kinix was instantly recognised as the great healer of Tikal. His timing proved to be fortunate for the king, B'utz Aj Sak Chiik who was unwell and not expected to live. Kinix was able to heal him and extend his life for a further six months which ultimately led to his acceptance as an honored guest. During this time, Kinix also reunited the prince Ahkal Mo'Naab with his people and it was this that secured a permanent safe haven for him whenever he needed it. As the final clue is in Palenque, it makes sense that Kinix used these ties to go back and hide the final box,' said Gillian.

'And if we follow the same clues as we did with the last two locations, the painting will prove helpful in discovering the location,' added Adam.

'What paintings?' queried Georgio.

'I inherited three paintings, and the disk we initially thought was the key, from my grandparents. It turns out the paintings are vital in determining the locations of the hiding spots of Kinix's clues,' advised Adam.

'That's interesting, but I wonder how they ended up with your grandparents. From what I've heard about Kinix and the effort he's gone to hide his secret, I find it hard to believe that he would hand out the disk and three paintings without a purpose. So, why you?' questioned Georgio.

Adam remained silent. He had often considered the same question. With the many of millions of people on this planet, why him? How did plain old Adam Housner, a simple schoolteacher, end up tangled in the midst of a 1500 year old mystery. That was a mystery in itself.

'So, what did the third painting show?' asked Georgio as Gillian reached for the small brown leather satchel she had found in the storage cave in Tikal.

Adam searched the back seat and handed Gillian a small torch.

'The drawing of the temple at Palenque clearly depicts the Olvidado Temple, but it is the painting that gives the clue.' Gillian left it to Adam to continue.

'I always found the final painting the most fascinating. Not only is it the most colourful, but the small man we believe is Kinix is squatting instead of standing as he is in the other two paintings. His robe is also more elaborate and although his facial features are not distinguishable, his general posture is considerably more apprehensive. It's as if he had constipation.' Adam chuckled, amused at the memory of the vision, that was not shared by either Georgio or Gillian.

They sat silently with a smirk on their faces, waiting for Adam to continue.

Sour buggers, he thought before commencing his story.

'Anyway, Kinix was definitely pointing to the pyramid behind him but more towards the ground as distinct to the Pyramid of the Masks where he was indicating to a position further up the side,' said Adam as Gillian interrupted.

'And if I remember rightly, Temple Olvidado is not a pyramid like the others. It is an arched building that sits atop a stepped mound that belongs to the unexcavated Olvidado Group. It is the least known area of Palenque but was most likely to be the religious centre in 500 AD. It makes sense that this would be the correct temple, and the lack of side steps would definitely indicate a hidden room.'

'Hidden room. No one said anything about a hidden room,' said Adam, his voice resonating with confusion.

'Yes, there was. It's in the second diary,' said Gillian. 'Kinix makes mention of being given the honour of learning the secret sacrificial opening of the great temple for his sanctuary. This corresponds with your description of the painting. The drawing in the small diary also gives fuel to this argument. It shows the same temple.'

'Okay, so it's agreed. We are heading to the Olvidado Temple,' said Georgio as the small jeep leapt over a tiny hump in the road and landed into a low-lying stream. Water flew everywhere and the occupants of the vehicle were tossed about like rubber dolls.

'Shit,' swore Georgio as he battled to steer the wayward vehicle in the right direction. With his arms straining and sweat pouring from his forehead, Georgio was the picture of intense concentration. Adam, on the other hand, prayed that the vehicle was well serviced and that the steering column would not buckle under the pressure.

Anxiety reigned supreme as the battle between the deceivingly fast-running stream and the small vehicle continued until the jeep spun sideways and started to drift. The engine roared to the full extent of its power and the small wheels battled to find firm ground. Georgio continued to accelerate, ensuring that he did not let the vehicle stall. The car behaved admirably, responding by finding a strip of gravel and taking full advantage of the temporary firmness. It lurched forward and seemingly grew wings as it threw itself up onto the far bank. Both Gillian and Adam cheered simultaneously and even Georgio couldn't resist a grin of victory until a fast-travelling light took away all feelings of exhilaration.

'What was that?' asked Gillian as the light suddenly vanished.

'Samuel,' said Georgio as he veered to the right, down a barely visible track.

'We are facing an impossible task. Three of us up against a group of trained mercenaries. He'll kill us as soon as he has the information he needs,' said Adam.

'Then we need to hope that either Dale makes a breakthrough and uncovers the identity of Samuel's boss or we outwit him and make it back in time to save the archaeologists,' muttered Georgio.

'We simply cannot give up on Fred and Richard. If I don't try my best to save Fred, I'll never be able to live with myself,' said Gillian angrily.

'Don't misunderstand me, Gillian. I have no intention of failing, but I do fear that we may be too late. I think we need to come to terms with the fact that it is likely we will lose them all,' said Georgio as Adam could not resist squeezing Gillian comfortingly on the shoulder. Despite her lack of conversation about Fred, Adam knew that Gillian was extremely worried although he did admit to finding it a little odd that she spoke far more about Richard than her own fiance. It was clear that she cared deeply for the older man as a father figure, but he wondered just how much Fred actually meant to her. Gillian was a strange enigma to him. She was very smart and beautiful, but there was also a coldness that he couldn't quite place. Instinctively he felt that it would be a tough task to try to understand her.

Gillian patted Adam's hand fondly, only interrupted when the mysterious light reappeared. At first it was nondescript, no more than an unidentified radiance that was neither threatening nor gloomy. Unfortunately it gradually closed in, travelling slightly faster than they were and in a direction that would clearly cross their path. Georgio tapped the steering wheel with unease as a frown appeared across his forehead. He automatically pushed the car to its limit, but the heavy jungle impeded his progress and the light encroached with infuriating ease.

'He's fast approaching,' said Adam as he leant forward in the back seat.

'It has to be Samuel or his men,' said Gillian as Georgio nodded but did not reply.

The sound emitted by the encroaching vehicle increased to such a din that the contrasting silence in the car spoke volumes to the sudden fear they experienced. Adam did his best to quell the feeling of nervousness as Georgio attempted to outrun whatever it was that had just traversed with them, even sinking into the uncomfortable vinyl seat as far as possible.

It did not help!

The lights of their pursuer shone through the back window as Georgio drove admirably. A cat and mouse chase ensued, but the vehicle behind then was far superior and rammed the small jeep with such force that the three occupants were flung forward. Adam whacked his head against the driver's seat and Gillian hit the dashboard. Georgio yelled with a mix of anger and frustration, pushing the vehicle into a sideways skid in an attempt to control the sudden slide on the damp green earth.

He failed! The vehicle hit them repeatedly.

The ensuing moments were a blur for Adam. All he could recall was hitting his head against the roof as the little vehicle rolled over and careened into a large object before he blacked out.

Consciousness came gradually. There was little pain with the exception of the egg that was developing on his head, and a quick wriggle of all his limbs revealed everything was intact and working. He sighed in relief but was suddenly abounded by panic when he recalled that Gillian and Georgio had been with him. He had no idea how they were, or if they had even survived.

With a determined frame of mind that involved him overcoming a bout of dizziness and disorientation, Adam sat up. He was met with a supporting hand from Georgio who helped him to his feet.

'Good to see you up and about,' he smiled the comments delivered with a genuine smile and twinkle in his eye.

Adam looked about. The darkness impeded his vision but he could easily make out the inverted wreck of the small jeep and a much larger diesel powered four-wheel drive with a damaged front end. It didn't take much intelligence to know that it had caused the carnage, but the question that was uppermost on his mind was the whereabouts of the men who were driving.

Gillian hobbled slowly to his position. The grimace on her face was the response to a cut on her leg that had been bandaged. 'I was worried about you,' she whispered as she gave him a quick chaste hug he had hoped would be a little more passionate. Never mind. He would take anything he could.

'Thankyou, but you don't look too good either.'

'Ah, it's nothing. Just another war wound to add to the collection.'

Adam smiled. He admired her grit.

'So, the question I'm dying to ask is, where are the men who attacked us?'

'Dead ... all dead. It seems that Caton was not disloyal after all. Apparently, he was not with the group when they were captured, so he improvised and pretended to be one of the men placed on site by Samuel's boss. He used his imposing figure and authority to gain respect and was able to discreetly drop food to his friends.

Not long after our escape, he overheard Samuel saying that he had initially intended not to follow the stolen jeep but that he had changed his mind. He simply could not take the risk of allowing us to reach the final clue first. Caton managed to climb on board the pursuit vehicle and eventually took control. Unfortunately, he was too late to stop the crash, but he did succeed in killing the assassins before they were able to execute us.'

'That's a convenient story,' muttered Adam.

Gillian blinked and pursed her lips. 'What do you mean by convenient? Caton risked his life for us and Georgio has faith in him.'

'You didn't see him with Samuel's men. He was way too comfortable in their company. For someone trying to improvise, he was an expert actor.'

'You're too suspicious, Adam. I trust Georgio's judgement,' replied Gillian stubbornly.

Adam did not comment. It did not take a great deal of intelligence to know that Samuel's men were all highly trained assassins quite capable of noticing an impostor. They would pick an unfamiliar face immediately. He would have to be on his guard.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

Arun Keane leant his expansive frame back in his leather recliner and placed his feet, encased in brown Gucci's, on the pad of his expansive oak desk. He traced his fingers over the polished wood grain and recalled the day he had found it at the back of an abandoned antique store. Purchased as an acquisition for his extensive worldwide property portfolio, the store had been vacated with the exception of a rubbish-filled locked room. Arun had ordered it to be immediately opened and cleaned, the desk only coming to light once the piles of papers had been removed. At first it was considered to be like any other old but insignificant desk until Arun began to do some research. He soon discovered that it was a genuine Victorian, especially commissioned and used solely by Queen Victoria herself. How it ended up here was not known, but Arun did manage to locate a record confirming the theft of a furniture container on route to Buckingham Palace.

Since that time, the desk had become his pride as it brought him within the same league as the illustrious Queen.

It gave him shivers of delight.

Chuckling to himself, Arun lit a Cuban cigar and puffed it gently in contemplation. He had been born into a poor family of little means and took to pickpocketing out of desperation. Fortunately, this developed into a thirst for more affluence, which eventually led to a quest for items of greater value. By the young age of thirteen, Arun learnt the importance of antiques and developed a love for the ancient worlds they represented. This was beneficial in turning his rampant need for funds into a burning passion that he was unable to quench.

Once fuelled by this new found desire there was no stopping him and he soon learnt that the easiest way to acquire the objects of his desire was with the funding obtained from drugs.

Drugs were readily available and easy to dispose of. They provided him with an untraceable and endless stream of money, but he was greedy; he wanted more more drugs, more money and more antiques and the only solution was to manufacture his own drugs in a quantity that suited his appetite.

He wanted to be wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. He wanted to leave behind the desperation of his youth and prove that he was worthy of greatness, that he owned the best of everything.

It was then that Arun decided to collect only one item of each group but with a stipulation that it was the finest example of its kind.

His first purchase was the highest clarity pink diamond available, followed quickly by an unrivalled black Australian opal. He continued on this line until he had one of each class of precious gemstone before moving onto paintings. He boasted a Van Gogh, Monet, Rembrandt, Da Vinci and many others, only missing a Picasso, which he was currently in negotiations with at a Paris museum.

He readily admitted that he took whatever means necessary to gain his current aspiration and often resorted to blackmail, quickly creating a vast network of people willing to cater to his every need. And he was generous, offering great sums of money for each transaction.

Arun considered the connections he had built up over the years and grinned in delight. He was so powerful that his influence stretched from the Mexican government to the White House and everyone in between. He had teachers, accountants, museum curators, police officers, shop owners and every other possible connection on his payroll, all funded by his cocaine factory.

Arun was unable to resist a chuckle. He had pulled off a masterpiece of planning and organisation.

When he had realised that the demand for drugs had outstripped his supply, he knew that he would need to manufacture it himself. But where?

He would require a provision that would allow him to process huge amounts of the drugs undetected, along with the facilities to house the people required. Then there was the problem of loyalty. To carry off his plan, he would need a crew that could not be bought.

It took careful consideration, assisted by a third straight glass of Makers Mark whisky, to hatch a plan that involved a Mayan-inspired cult. It was a perfect idea that would allow him to recruit children, the most innocent and easy to manipulate of them all.

All that was required would be the support of a couple of key friends, especially Senator Ferrero Santiano, and true to form, Ferrero had been instrumental in obtaining the children and keeping it under wraps from the government for over forty years. It was such a success that it made both of them wealthy beyond their wildest dreams until recently.