'Surely you could just drill through?'

'We could, but Arun does not want to damage any potential treasures.'

'You don't need me to open this door. The lock consists of twenty blocks, the same amount of panels that are contained in the roof. The corner of each painted panel has a Mayan hieroglyph that represents their gods. It's my guess that you just need to place them in the order of their importance.'

Samuel gazed at her with an expression that she almost mistook as admiration. She shook her head; there was no way that this brute of a man would show her respect. She would not be silly enough to believe that his intentions were anything but selfish even if there was a clear case of brainwashing.

'It's time to open the door,' Samuel insisted as his demeanour reflected determination and obedience. He would do whatever was necessary to fulfill Arun's demands and Gillian almost felt an inkling of sympathy for him. It would be awful to be controlled by another human to the extent that you were unable to think for yourself.

Gillian studied the locks and quickly spun the dials until they hit their predetermined order, pausing only when she arrived at the final combination.

Samuel growled in anger, but Gillian refused to comply. She was fearful of what she would find. The entire situation was wrong. Kinix loved puzzles and yet there was nothing here to connect the journals or any of the clues they had discovered to this room, in particular the small square plaque they had found in the last obsidian box. All did not bode well and she did not want to be here when the door was opened.

Samuel's face reminded Gillian of an angry puffer fish. Blood rushed rapidly to the surface of his skin and his eyes reverted to the cold, calculated glare she had become used to. Any semblance of his more considerate side had vanished and he raised his hand to strike her when a very familiar voice interceded.

'Gillian, my love. How I have missed you.'

Gillian felt her heart leap. An uncontrollable mix of overwhelming relief and love flooded her very soul and she longed to run to him with a newly found, unabated joy. Emotion overtook sense and she spun where she stood to find herself face to face with her beloved fiance. The familiar, well-groomed black hair, piercing blue eyes and toned body filled her with so much adoration that she almost threw herself into his outstretched arms.

Her feet refused to move and try as she might, her heart was unable to overrule her brain. Gillian could not make sense of her feelings. What was wrong with her? Why was she unable to go to him?

'Are you all right, love?'

'Yes,' Gillian lied as she looked at his face and saw what she had overlooked all of these years. It was almost as if someone had drawn back the curtains and revealed to her what her treasured father had failed to impart to her despite his numerous warnings. Gillian felt like a fool as she gazed at the man with the smile as false as zirconia.

'Where are my friends, Richard, Mitchell, Julia and Redmond?'

Fred's smile faded. 'You saw the lift on the way in.'

'Are you telling me that they did not make it, yet you escaped without a scratch?'

Fred scowled. 'My fall was halted when my belt became caught on a protruding stone lever. I was just lucky.'

'Lucky, my arse! What did you do to them, Fred? Did you murder them so you could survive? And why are you here with Samuel?' Gillian shrieked in sudden understanding. She felt sick to her very core and despite the fact that she was not a vindictive person, she would have gladly shot Fred where he stood.

'You were in on this all the time. That's why you agreed to accompany me in the first place.'

Gillian was so horrified that she could barely contemplate the thought that crossed her mind: if Fred had been bought by Arun, perhaps their whole relationship had been a fake. She felt betrayed, soiled and cheated. Fred had used her. Arun's desire for antiquities was well known and he had instructed Fred to get close to Gillian for the purpose of obtaining inside information on new digs. Although Fred was also an expert in archaeology, Gillian was closer to leading authorities like Richard and she was also far more knowledgeable on hieroglyphics. It was also her connection to Richard that led them all to Tikal. In effect, Gillian has caused her friends' potential demise. She was devastated.

'Where are my friends, you bastard!' she screamed in fury as she pummelled Fred with all her might before ripping off her engagement ring and throwing it in his face.

'My love, why are you so angry? All you need to do is open that door and I will tell you where to find them.'

Gillian gained control of her emotions and took a moment to note the shallow and somewhat demonic expression that fleetingly appeared on Fred's face. In some ways, she realised that he was even worse than Samuel. Samuel had been brainwashed from childhood. His gentle essence had been squashed and manipulated before he had the sense to choose for himself. Fred, however, made his choice as a thinking adult. He had been bought with the promise of wealth and notoriety.

She spat in his face and watched in disgust as he licked the dribble that ran past his mouth.

'My dear ... as I recall, we have swapped more spit than I care to remember.'

Gillian was mortified and barely reacted when Fred forced her to face the door. He kissed her passionately on the lips before smacking her backside. 'Now, be a dear and open this door.'

Gillian considered her options. She was surrounded by two burly men and was very much alone. There was no option but to comply.

She spun the last dial and heard a resounding click. The door unlocked and seemingly developed a life of its own as it swung inward, revealing a dark abyss beyond. It was both beckoning and frightening and Gillian paused. Samuel and Fred did not.

They stepped forward with confidence, backed up by an unexpected group of people who had arrived in the room behind them. Gillian turned to see the immense hulk of Arun's repulsive body and gagged. He was the epitome of evil, the lowest of the low. If the Mayan society still existed, he would be a member of mitnal the lowest and most horrible of the nine hells of their underworld. It was ruled by the decaying and skeletal death god Ah Puch and was reserved for those who would suffer for all eternity.

Everyone moved aside for Arun as he stepped in behind Samuel and Fred and lit the room with a large fluorescent globe.

Gillian's mouth dropped in awe.

The room was not overly large but sported a high vaulted, pure white plaster ceiling. The walls were erected from large stone blocks and alternate panels of solid jade and gold. The floor was a white marble. However, the feature piece was the solid jade carving of the Mayan world tree that stood atop a gold and obsidian mound in the centre of a very large pool of water. The effect was quite striking with the glistening walls and fifteen foot tree reflected in the water and rebounding off the pure white ceiling.

Arun was the first to speak. 'I want it. I don't care if this is all there is. I want that tree. Can you imagine what it would be worth? I will be the toast of the society with something like this in my possession,'

His greed was beyond comprehension.

'Get it for me,' he ordered as a general unrest filtered throughout the room. Gillian was aware that everyone was of the impression that they would receive substantial payment for their time and assistance. They had no intention of leaving unrewarded, yet no one dared defy Arun despite the sudden understanding that he planned to take the entire treasure for himself.

Gillian contemplated the scene carefully. She knew that this was a decoy. Rich enough to allow potential thieves to believe they had found the mother lode and remove them from the area that contained the true cache. It also posed the question that continued to puzzle her: the presence of water that appeared as fresh and new as the day it was first placed in this room. The only answer she could think of was that there must be a running spring, but where? It was not immediately evident although the lack of movement would suggest a slow but continual seep in and out of the area. It would have to be placed beneath the circular pond, the most likely position being under the central mound that contained the tree. Her only concern was the trap she knew lay in the room.

Gillian scanned the walls and floor. There was no obvious evidence of any ruse, but it was in its apparent emptiness that the greatest threat lay. It was almost like a trapdoor spider, unseen until its prey strayed into its lair. The roof looked to be secure as did the outer walls. The floor was also safe, taking into consideration that it was supporting half a dozen people. As a matter of deduction, the only threat remaining resided in the water.

Gillian viewed it thoughtfully. On the surface it resembled a large pond complete with intricate border tiles and raised surrounds. The edges were well-connected to the floor although years of training allowed her to discover a very tiny gap between the floor tiles and the upright surrounds of the pond. She found this curious, taking into account the expert craftsmanship otherwise exhibited. The opposite side appeared to be equally fashioned and even though she could not see an equivalent join, she suspected it was there.

'Get a plank,' ordered Arun as his servants hurried to comply, returning momentarily with an electronic extension ladder long enough to span the thirty foot gap. One of the assistants went first which created an unstoppable chain of events.

As soon as a certain amount of weight was spread across the ladder and imposed on the pond, a small change began to occur. Gillian noticed it immediately and stepped back in concern. The entire pool had dropped almost an inch, but it was enough to bring about an increased flow of water. Bubbles began to appear on the surface and a distant but resounding clunk shuddered throughout.

And then it happened.

The pool dropped five feet into the ground, retaining a level so perfect that even the finest of engineers would have been proud. Water spouted unabated like a fountain from large square holes cut into the base of the central island, drenching all those on the opposite side. The rush was sudden and unexpected, filling the room at a rate that was almost impossible to measure.

Everyone panicked and ran for the exit, finding that they were blocked by Arun's massive bulk and caught between possible death and the repercussions of pushing him forcefully.

They chose the latter, deciding that death was the less favourable option, causing Gillian to ignore the urge to laugh. In less dire circumstances, she would have found the situation highly amusing although the rapidly rising water quickly brought her back to her senses.

Gillian yelled. She was stuck between Fred and Samuel and forced to wait as the water swirled around their legs with such intensity that it had extended up past her calves before rapidly and unexpectedly receding back into the cavity.

They were given a few precious moments to move back into the preceding room before the tide rushed them off their feet.

Arun's fury knew no bounds. He cursed and screamed as he was hustled forward and was hoisted back into the entrance tunnel and to the surface. He was embarrassed and incensed at losing a treasure that he had touted as his own.

The water managed to retain a steady level, allowing Gillian to wade progressively towards the next basket where she was jumbled uncaringly into the wicker and accompanied by Fred. He grinned at her with the look of familiarity and smugness that she found absolutely disgusting. She hated him with a vehemence that was unprecedented and despite his obvious arrogance, she noted the slight twitch in his fingers that symbolised his unease at her presence. She took a small measure of comfort at the knowledge that she still had the ability to rattle him. This pleased her.

Samuel approached and Gillian was surprised by the sense of relief she suddenly experienced at his presence. How things had changed in a few short days! Samuel was her arch enemy. He had done everything at his disposal to kill her. Fred was her beloved fiance whom she had been prepared to spend the rest of her life with. Now she had discovered that Fred was actually the traitor, using her for his own benefit and most possibly assisting Arun with his distribution of drugs. Samuel, on the other hand, whilst equally bad, had been forced to become someone in conflict with his basic nature, and if memory served her right, she had known him, but how. She had the sinking feeling that their connection went deeper than just friendship.

Her recollections revealed a boy she spent most of her days with. A kind, gentle person who shielded her from things she was too young to see. He treated her like kin, like a brother or sister, but this simply did not add up. Her father had told her nothing of this boy and she trusted her father implicitly. Surely he would have informed her about something so important.

Samuel took Gillian to the pit that held her friends. He ordered her to join them and she did not argue. After all, Arun was watching from the nearby tent.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

Sean was so nervous that he barely controlled the quivers that ran rampant throughout his body. He even took a moment to view the fabric between his legs to ensure that he had not made a mess. In fact, he was so out of sorts that for the first time, he wished he had a decent haircut and owned a can of deodorant.

He quickly wiped his palms to ensure they were clean before clasping the outstretched hands of the president.

Marcus Winston chuckled. 'At ease, young man. From what I hear, you have every right to stand tall and proud. You have served your country admirably and for that you will be well rewarded.'

Sean dropped to his knees on the luxurious red carpet and took a moment to check his surroundings. He was convinced that this was a dream and had to pinch himself to ensure it was reality and not fantasy.

'Get up, Sean.'

Sean could not. The President actually spoke his name. The insignificant boy, born into a family fraught by poverty, was actually kneeling before the leader of his country who knew his name. It was a miracle.

'It's okay, Sean!' Marcus Winston knelt to his level 'My family came from a generation of corn farmers who lived in a house no larger than a standard farm shed. I too was once in your position and I remember the overwhelming impression of grandeur this place represents as if it was yesterday. What you need to remember is that you have earned your right to stand in this room.'

'The Oval Office would have been better,' muttered Sean as he forced himself to get a grip and stand up like a man.

The President chuckled. 'You understand the necessity to keep your visit a secret, hence this underground room, but when this fiasco is over, I will give you a tour of the Oval Office myself.'

Sean smiled.

'Now it's time to get down to business. Georgio's phone call provided little information except that you hold in your possession the one thing that will bring down Arun Keane's entire drug smuggling operation. He also told me that you obtained this yourself after Dale was kidnapped.'

'I did ... with Dale's help,' muttered Sean as he handed the President the small book he had been carrying.

'Let's hope we manage to save Dale in time,' said the President as he opened to book and began to read the list of names.

His lined but upstanding face was burdened with shock and disbelief. Sean thought his rugged good looks had aged ten years in an instant.

The President sat down for a moment. 'I had no idea it was so widespread. I recognise many of these names. Some are even in my immediate employ. It is a disaster, but not one that can't be dealt with.' He seemed to contemplate the issue for a moment before continuing, 'Sean, I understand the urgency to return to Tikal, so it is my intention to send an entire army battalion with you. From a previous conversation with Dale, I also realise that a number of his comrades were captured and are still imprisoned by Arun, so the opportunity to catch Arun red-handed is too good a prospect to miss. It will be enough for us to hold him until we can gather sufficient evidence to convict him for life.'

Sean nodded. He was beyond words. The President had calmly learnt of a corruption that involved many of his perceived loyal employees. Revelations of such treachery, if leaked to the media, could cause immeasurable damage to the presidency, but Marcus Winston took it in his stride like a walk through the gardens on a sunny day. Sean supposed that the leader of the country would face many issues like this, but he still admired the great man for his sense of calm and duty.

He dwelled on the President's words for a moment, suddenly recalling what Marcus Winston had said. The battalion was to return with him. What did he mean by that? Was he to command the battalion? Surely not. Sean gazed at the President in horror.

'Fear not. You will be well protected, but we could use your assistance.'

Sean felt as if he would burst with pride. A request from the President was an honour that he could not ignore. He could imagine the look on his parents' face. They would be so proud. Sean frowned. His parents would presume he was dead by now and that upset him. He wanted to ask the President for a favour, but how could he do that? Sean had never asked for help from anyone in his life.'

He went to speak but stuttered mid sentence. He had made a fool of himself.

Marcus Winston sat patiently. 'What is it, Sean?'

Sean tried again, forcing his voice out of his dry throat. 'I would like to let my parents know that I'm alive.'

The President's laugh was full and vibrant. 'Why didn't you just ask? You can use the phone.'

'They don't have a phone, Sir.'

'Not a problem. I'll send a messenger,' replied Marcus Winston as he requested the service of a government aide.

'All taken care of. Now you have to go. The plane leaves in under half an hour.'

Sean moved to thank the President, but he was stopped in his stride.

'There's time enough for that later. I'll see you when this is all over,' said the President.

Sean did not turn back; he hurried towards the exit to meet Henre who was waiting for him on the other side of the solid steel door.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

Gillian was the first to hear the change in sound.

They were too far below the surface to see what has happening, but the general chatter and noise of everyday activities had ceased momentarily until a sudden incursion of gunfire and screaming filled the air.

They were so surprised that everyone ducked involuntarily, even Dale's men who were suffering from heat stroke, dehydration and sunburn. They quickly formed a protective huddle, but it soon proved to be a waste of time. Bullets ricocheted across their heads, causing them to shout in fear.

Gillian's heart seemed to burst from its cage and her hands shook in fear. Millions of explanations as to the sudden inclusion of extra men with guns whirled around her brain, but she could only come to one assumption: they had come to save them.

She started yelling, ignoring the panicked looks in the eyes of her friends. She yelled until her throat hurt and she was sure that they had heard her.

The first face she saw was the pimply boy her father had befriended and she jumped in joy. She never thought an average countenance would bring her such elation, but it did and she turned to hug the first person next to her ... Adam.

Dale's men were the first ones assisted from their prison with immediate emergency assistance given. Stretchers, re-hydration drips and liquid glucose were used and helicopters deployed. Gillian, Adam, Georgio and Tom climbed out afterwards and they celebrated immediately until Sean came running toward them.

'Arun has escaped!'

Gillian looked at Adam and she immediately understood. The only place they could escape was from the compound where they had originally hidden the cars. It was the same place Georgio and Adam had stolen the Jeep, chosen by Arun because of the large canopy of trees that protected their presence from overhead satellites. He would be intending to make his getaway with Samuel and Fred his likely companions.

They had no time to waste. Every second spelt failure.

Gillian grabbed the gun thrown her way and she pounded the grass like never before. Adam and Georgio were not far behind although Georgio struggled to keep up with them. His huffing and puffing brought a snigger from Adam and a general look of amusement from Gillian who in any other circumstance would have used the opening as an opportunity for an exchange of banter. Georgio was fun to stir and Gillian recalled many occasions of laughter with him.

They were closing in now, fighting the rising humidity and sweat that was pouring from their foreheads, but Gillian could smell success. She was spurred on by the sight of the one remaining Jeep and the two men attempting to force Arun into the passenger seat. She feared they would not make it, but luck was on their side. Fred and Samuel slipped and fell, accidentally dropping Arun to the ground. He cursed loudly, oblivious to onlookers who were witnesses to his embarrassment.