Page 44 of The Lost Guardian

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“I have to thank you, Mr. Rios,” Leo said as he stepped into the room. Mario trailed in his wake. “At first, I was very angry that you made me do so much extra work to find you.”

The barrel of his gun pointed toward Santiago’s chest, and an involuntary shiver racked his bones.

The man chuckled.

“But now, I think we can be friends again!” Leo continued. “My boss only wanted to recover the key Manco sent to you before his…untimely death.”

The way he said the last two words made Santiago’s hands clench into fists. Had this man been there at the murder of his grandfather? Was it him who pulled the trigger?

“But I see you have figured out how to open it!” Leo grinned, motioning toward the parchment. “I think Mr. Torres will be much happier with a map to Atahualpa’s lost treasure. Don’t you think?”

From the corner of his eye, he watched Ali reach toward the small of her back.

Did she bring her gun? Santiago wondered. He knew there were much more pressing matters at present, but his dazed brain could only think to wonder how she had gotten it past airport security.

Mario noticed and pointed his own weapon at her.

“Please,” he said, his grin dripping with malice. “Give me a reason.”

Ali did not.

“Now, gentlemen, please,” José said. Santiago couldn’t help but be impressed at his even-keeled voice. He held up his open palms, chest high, with no hint of a tremor.

“This is not your business, Professor,” Leo warned him.

“Of course it is,” José answered jovially. “Did you not see my name at the entrance to this wing? It is not only my business, but it just so happens to be my expertise.”

“Your expertise is not needed, old man,” Mario said, taking two angry steps forward. “And if you keep talking, neither will your head!”

That didn’t even make sense, Santiago thought, but knew better than to point it out.

“Now, now,” José continued. “I am in the pursuit of knowledge. We are at a university, after all. And you have not given us a chance to finish deciphering the clue.”

“What are you doing?” Santiago hissed, but José ignored him.

“The riddle,” the professor said, pointing at the page he and Santiago had been working on. “We need to finish interpreting it to know where to go. Cajamarca is a rather large city, after all.”

“Why would you help us?” Leo demanded.

“As I said, my good man, I am on no one’s side except the side of knowledge,” he answered. “I care not for treasure, but it would be the highlight of my career to interpret this long-lost language.”

“Go on then,” Mario barked, jerking his gun back and forth between José and the paper. “If it’s so important to you, tell us what it says!”

“I just need my glasses, to see it better,” José said, moving slowly toward his desk.

Leo made a noise of discouragement, shaking his head. “You were looking at it just fine before. No tricks.”

“No tricks at all, señor,” José insisted. “These words are already small, and we need to compare them to the images, which are far more detailed. I simply need my glasses to see more clearly.” He looked pointedly at Mario. “I am, as you mentioned, an old man.”

“Slowly, Professor,” Leo said, making a show of training his gun on him. “No sudden moves.”

“Yes, yes, I have them right here.” The professor inched carefully toward his desk.

From his vantage point, Santiago watched José’s hand reach past a drawer and pat underneath the wooden frame, as if searching for something. There was a small click, and then a tremendous whoosh in the room.

A dense cloud of aerosol bore down on them, acting as a visual shield.