She passes a series of gift shops, then follows several tourists down a wide dirt road that cuts through the Mexican jungle. After a five-minute walk, the path opens to an incredibly vast, flat, green expanse, surrounded by dense foliage.

Dominique’s eyes widen as she takes in her surroundings. She has traveled back in time.

Dotting the landscape are massive gray-and-white limestone ruins. To her left is the Great Mayan Ball Court, the largest in all of Mesoamerica. Built in the shape of a giant “I” the arena is more than 550 feet long and 230 feet wide, enclosed on all sides, including its two central boundary walls, which rise three stories. Just to the north of the structure stands the Tzompantli, a large platform engraved with rows of enormous skulls, the bodies of serpents crowning the structure. In the distance on her right is a vast quadrangle—the Warrior’s Complex—the remains of what had been a palace and marketplace, its borders partially enclosed by hundreds of freestanding columns.

But it is the main attraction that dwarfs every ruin to capture Dominique’s attention—an incredibly precise, towering ziggurat of limestone, located in the middle of the ancient city.

“Magnificent, isn’t it, señorita?”

Dominique turns to face a small man wearing a sweat-stained, orange park tee shirt and baseball cap. She notices the guide’s high, sloping forehead and strong Mayan facial features.

“The Kukulcan pyramid is the most magnificent structure in all of Central America. Perhaps you would like a private tour? Only thirty-five pesos.”

“Actually, I’m looking for someone. He’s an American, tall, well-built, with brown hair and very dark eyes. His name’s Michael Gabriel.”

The guide’s smile disappears.

“You know Mick?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you. Have a pleasant visit.” The small man turns and walks away.

“Wait—” Dominique catches up to him. “You know where he is, don’t you? Take me to him, and I’ll make it worth your while.” She shoves a wad of bills in his hand.

“I’m sorry, señorita, I don’t know the person you are looking for.” He pushes the cash back into her palm.

She peels off several bills. “Here, take this—”

“No, señorita—”

“Please. If you happen to run into him, or if you know someone who might know how to get word to him, tell him that Dominique needs to see him. Tell him it’s a matter of life and death.”

The Mayan guide sees the desperation in her eyes. “The person you seek—is he your boyfriend?”

“A close friend.”