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January 10
Dr. Estrada gazed in awe at the marble floors in an offset checkerboard pattern—dark gray and light gray. The round sigil of the Central Intelligence Agency was emblazoned with a compass rose in the center. This was like a scene from the movies, but it was really happening. He glanced over at Illari, wonderstruck.
She walked alongside him, next to Director Wright. They’d flown in a helicopter to Langley, riding over the crush of traffic on the beltway. It was dizzying how many places they’d been to over the last couple of days.
A CIA operative greeted them at the front of the building. “Director, I’m Agent O’Keefe. Director Kershaw is waiting in the ops room. Dr. Estrada, Miss Chaska—welcome to Langley.”
Dr. Estrada nodded, and they were given security badges and taken through the security turnstiles. Even though it was after seven p.m., the agency was thrumming with people. It looked like an all-hands-on-deck moment. The smell of stale coffee wafted on the air.
“This is a big facility,” Dr. Estrada commented to Director Wright as they walked.
“Used to be the largest intelligence base in the world. But now Germany’s BND holds that honor. Don’t tell Director Kershaw I mentioned it.” He gave him a sardonic grin.
“I won’t,” Dr. Estrada said. He was an archaeologist, not a spy. This was all way out of his league.
“This way,” said the agent guiding them. They were brought to a secure room accessed by badge. When the door opened, Dr. Estrada had to remind himself not to stare. It was the quintessential war room of a spy agency—monitors bracketed to the walls, desks covered in computers and monitors, each one showing a different scene. It was pandemonium, as information was relayed in real time. Men and women with headsets were talking simultaneously.
There was a series of ever-shifting satellite images on the main monitors. Dr. Estrada recognized them as video feeds of the jungle compound in the Yucatán that he’d flown over all those months ago.
“Is that from satellites?” Dr. Estrada asked over the commotion.
“No, those are from infrared cameras on the drones we have positioned over the compound,” replied the agent. “We’ve switched over now that we have a web of drones overhead. Here’s Director Kershaw.” He indicated a serious-looking woman with brown-rimmed glasses, hair just past her shoulders, and a frown. She had on a business suit, black, with a tan blouse beneath. He guessed her to be in her sixties.
When she got close enough, Director Wright shook her hand. “Gina.”
“Bill,” she replied sternly. Then she reached for Dr. Estrada’s hand and shook it with a firm grip. “Doctor. Welcome. Is this Miss Chaska?”
“Yes,” he replied, and introduced Illari. Although he’d been shocked to learn about her affiliation with the Mexica, not to mention the work she’d been doing for Mr. Roth, he didn’t think less of her for it. He’d been keeping a secret himself, after all, and these were unprecedented times. Moreover, her decision to store the information had been helpful to all of them, and he’d be a fool to blame the means for the end they all desired. Calakmul was unleashing madness and violence on the world, and they needed people like Illari to stand against him. For all she might agree with some of his arguments, she would never stoop to violence to achieve her desired goal.
“Miss Chaska, can you work with Agent O’Keefe?” She nodded to their escort. “He’ll connect your laptop to our network so you can access the data set. There’s something of particular importance going on right now, and you are both uniquely suited to lend assistance to the government.”
“What do you mean?” Dr. Estrada asked.
“I’ll show you. O’Keefe—now.”
Agent O’Keefe led Illari to a nearby desk, which had a spot cleared away, and they began to set up her laptop.
“How’s it going hunting down the NSA moles, Bill?” Director Kershaw asked Wright. “Need any help?”
“We’re doing our job. You do yours. Gina, why don’t you tell Dr. Estrada about the lights?”
There was obviously a bit of rivalry between the two, but Dr. Estrada imagined there would be, given they worked for competing agencies. He needed a shower and a cup of xocolatl, but he had a feeling neither would be coming soon. “Lights?” he asked in confusion.
“Have you ever been to Cholula, Mexico, before?” Kershaw asked him.
“I have,” he answered. “The largest pyramid in the world is there.”
Wright frowned. “I thought it was in Giza? I’ve been to that one.”
Dr. Estrada shook his head. “Cholula is four times larger than Giza and twice the volume. You don’t know about it because it’s buried. It looks like a hill.”
Wright glanced at Kershaw in confusion.
“He’s right,” she said. “There’s a little Catholic church on top, built by Cortés. The pyramid wasn’t rediscovered until 1910.”
“You know your history,” Dr. Estrada said, impressed.
“Actually, I learned it from Wikipedia on my phone about an hour ago,” she said with a chuckle. “That’s why you’re here. Let’s sit down, and I’ll explain what we know while they set up your assistant’s laptop.”
