“I didn’t say that. Atlantis was Plato’s allegorical story; however, in Mayan and Olmec and even Aztec legends, they directly refer to a place called ‘Aztlan.’ The Mayans originally believed they came to the Americas from an overseas paradise called Aztlan which sank away from sight.” Matt gathered his thoughts. “Look, hear me out, there’s a section of an ancient Mayan codex called the Troano Manuscript that to this day is still defying a full translation. However, in the 1800s a classical archaeologist by the name of Augustus le Plongeon attempted a partial interpretation. His reconstruction recounted a legend passed down for hundreds of generations about the tragedy of a ‘Great Golden City,’ which was swallowed in a terrible cataclysm that took place nearly 10,000 years before the writing of that codex.”

“Uh, and he said the Mayans knew about this place, did he? What happened to him?” Monica gave Matt a look that radiated a mixture of disbelief and mock gravitas.

“Not exactly. He called the country ‘Mu,’ but no one would support his work, and of course there was no cross-validating data. For his trouble he was discredited, but look, there is one thing that my studies have taught me and that’s extraordinary civilisations have come and gone, but eventually the earth gives them back to us.” Matt’s eyes burned with excitement.

“I don’t believe it. They discredited him just because he called it ‘Moo’?” Monica couldn’t help laughing and Matt jumped to his feet, pulling Monica up with him.

“Very funny, cavewoman. Come on, we’ve got to find more evidence, this could be huge.”

Eight

Alex stood on a small boulder and raised his voice so it would carry to all the team members. “Ladies and gentlemen, full team briefing in fifteen minutes. Enjoy your last hot coffee as we will not be taking it into the caves. Please check and pack any equipment you will need; we’re going to be very busy shortly.” He stepped down without any further interaction. This was not the time for questions and answers.

He turned back to his HAWCs just as Tank handed him a webbing backpack like the ones the others were already wearing. From it he removed a rectangular black box, which in his hands suddenly telescoped forwards and backwards into what looked like a very high-tech Armalite rifle. Alex and his team were ready. They banged their fists together and had just shouted a single “Go HAWC,” when Johnson spoke to Alex.

“Heads up, boss.” He nodded over Alex’s shoulder at Aimee who had her head down and was striding towards them with a look of stern displeasure on her face. But Alex didn’t need to be told Aimee was approaching; he had heard her first footsteps before Johnson had even spoken.