The memory of Guardian’s words echoes in his ears. The porthole to Xibalba Be will ascend on 4 Ahau, 3 Kankin. It can only be destroyed from within. Only a Hunahpu can enter. Only a Hunahpu can expel the evil from your garden and save your species from annihilation.

Mick feels queasy. “We have a problem. That alien vessel—it’s going to ascend tomorrow—”

Chaney’s eyes widen. “How do you know that?”

“It’s part of a three thousand-year-old Mayan prophecy. The entity within the vessel. We have to destroy it. We have to get inside.”

“How do we get inside?” Marvin asks.

“I don’t know, I mean, I guess the same way Dom and I entered before, through its ventilation system.” A wave of exhaustion overcomes him. He closes his eyes.

Dominique touches his forehead, registering a fever. “He’s had enough, President Chaney. He’s done his part to save the world; now go and do yours.”

Chaney’s eyes lose a bit of their harshness. “Our scientists happen to agree with you, Gabriel. They feel we need to destroy the alien vessel to end the threat of the drones exploding. I’ve ordered the John C. Stennis and her fleet into the Gulf of Mexico to do the job. If that vessel really is going to rise tomorrow, then we’ll blow it out of the water.”

The new president stands to leave. “An emergency meeting of the UN Security Council has been scheduled for seven o’clock this evening aboard the Stennis. We’re expecting representatives from every nation, as well as some of the top scientists from around the world. You and Dominique are coming with us. One of my aides will bring you something to wear.”

“Wait,” Dominique says. “Tell him about Borgia.”

“Your would-be assassin led us straight to Dr. Foletta. His confession included information about how Borgia managed to have you committed to an asylum eleven years ago. Even provided us with a tape of the secretary of state hiring him to kill you.” Chaney offers a grim smile. “I’ll be nailing his ass to the wall once things settle down. Meanwhile, Dominique and her mother are off the hook, and you’ve been certified as competent, so you are a free man, Gabriel, as loony as the rest of us.”

Dominique whispers in Mick’s ear. “Your nightmare’s over. No more asylums, no more solitary confinement. You’re free.” She squeezes his hand. “We can spend the rest of our lives together.”

Aboard the Aircraft Carrier John C. Stennis

6:43 P.M.

Mick gazes out the window of the chopper as the airship descends upon the enormous four-and-a-half-acre flight deck of the John C. Stennis, now a virtual parking lot of helicopters.

Dominique squeezes his hand. “You okay? You haven’t said a word the entire flight.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re worried about something. What aren’t you telling me?”