Free One Rough Man by Brad Taylor Page B

terrorists who murdered innocent American civilians. Drugs and death in Juarez were one thing. Death on American soil was something else entirely.
    Before the Arab could answer, one of Miguel’s ever-present personal security detail came in and whispered in his ear.
    “Show him in,” said Miguel.
    The door opened, and Eduardo was led into the room. He appeared healthy enough but still bore the scars of his jungle panic. He looked timidly at Miguel, then at the two Arabian men. Miguel made a big show of friendship toward the young Mayan, seeking to put him at ease. “Eduardo! How’re you doing? I thought you’d still be on the professor’s expedition. Don’t worry. You can speak freely. These ignorant foreigners don’t speak Spanish.”
    Eduardo was afraid to say the wrong thing to this powerful man. He had worked for Miguel in the past as a high-end coyote, smuggling migrant workers into the United States. Miguel was one of the few coyotes who could get you into the U.S. in style, not packed like cattle in the back of a non-air-conditioned U-Haul, destined to die of heatstroke in the middle of the desert. Of course, this service cost much more than the migrants could afford, so the first few years of their wages, instead of being sent back to the family, were mailed to Miguel. Failure to mail the wages guaranteed that there wouldn’t be a family in need of funds in the future. Miguel had earned the moniker of “The Machete” by his methods of ensuring compliance.
    “Sir, you told me to tell you if the professor found anything. Well, he found something.”
    Eduardo explained the entire expedition in detail, telling of his and Olmec’s actions, the discovery of the temple, Olmec’s death, and his subsequent journey here.
    Miguel was intrigued. “Tell me again how Olmec died. What was it he found?”
    Eduardo went through the description of the bag and Olmec’s symptoms, reliving the terror again as he told the story. Miguel failed to notice the increased interest of his two guests in the description of the death.
    “And you know where this temple is? You can take some of my men there?”
    “No, sir. Olmec read the map, and he’s dead. The only one who would know where the temple is would be the professor. I wish I could take you there, but I can’t.”
    Miguel’s demeanor turned cold. “But you said you had a GPS. Surely that would make this simple. Where is it? Are you hiding something from me?”
    Eduardo felt sweat pop on his forehead. “Sir, the professor took the GPS back. I promise I don’t know where the temple is, but I do know where the professor is. He’s staying at a hotel in Flores waiting on a flight home. He’s got the GPS. I promise I’m not hiding anything.”
    Miguel began smiling again. “I believe you, Eduardo. You’ve always been true to your word. So I understand, only two people have been to the temple, you and Olmec, and only one person knows the location, the professor?”
    Eduardo visibly relaxed. “Yes, sir. I’m the only living person who’s seen the temple, and the professor is the only one who can find it.”
    “Good. Very good. Please head home and speak nothing of the temple or the professor.” He handed Eduardo a wad of cash and showed him to the door.
    Miguel saw an opportunity that he would have to seize immediately. If he could get to the temple before the government or UNESCO found out, he could ransack it, use his smuggling network to get the pieces inside the U.S., and sell them at a handsome profit. If he did it quickly enough, the government or UNESCO would never know it existed. First, he had to locate the temple. That meant finding the professor. Second, he had to eliminate anyone else who knew about it and was in a position to talk.
    Miguel motioned to the security man who had shown Eduardo in. “Kill him once he reaches the bus station. Take his body into the jungle. Oh, and don’t forget to get my money back. Send in Jake.”
    The security man