Ming-Ding signals for his platoon to take up positions around the sinkhole. Each man carries an OICW (Objective Individual Combat Weapon), the most lethal machine gun in the world. The fourteen-pound device has two barrels, one to shoot 5.56 mm rounds of ammunition, the other for the 20 mm HE air-bursting rounds that can be set to explode on impact or after a short delay, in front of, behind, or above an enemy target.

Sgt. John “Dirty Red” McCormack joins the lieutenant colonel, the two men staring into the pond scum below. “So, where is this fucking alien?”

“Murphy’s law of combat number sixteen. If you’ve secured an objective, don’t forget to let the enemy know about it.”

The ground begins trembling, ripples spreading across the surface below.

“Guess I spoke too soon.” Ming-Ding signals to his men, then backs away from the edge as the tremors grow stronger.

Dirty Red stares down his laser sight. Come on, motherfucker. Come and get it.

The ground is jumping so much, the commandos can hardly aim.

The far wall of the cenote collapses. A blast of limestone-and-water rain explodes outward—The alien rises out of the cenote.

Ming-Ding’s muscles tighten in fear. “Son-uva-bitch—Fire! Fire!”

A carpet of lead roars from the commandos’ guns.

The bullets never reach the alien. A clear shield of energy, visible only through its distortion, envelops the serpent like a second skin. As the bullets enter the field, they appear to vaporize in midair.

“What in the fuck?” Ming-Ding stares in horror and confusion as his men continue firing.

Moving past the commandoes as if they weren’t there, the alien entity glides down the Mayan sacbe, its locomotive-size girth pushing through the jungle foliage toward the pyramid.

Ming-Ding activates the transmitter on his helmet. “Colonel, we made contact with the alien—or at least we tried to. Our bullets were useless, sir—they just sort of vanished into thin air.”

Mick can hear the echo of the approaching helicopter’s rotors beating the air as he stares at the Mayan Ball Court from atop the Kukulcan, watching as the naval airship lands on the lawn adjacent to the pyramid’s western stairwell.

His heart pounds as he sees Dominique exit behind the president and two US Army commandos.

Michael …

Mick gasps, turning to the north. He can sense something approaching from the jungle.

Something immense!

The canopy of trees lining the sacbe are uprooted as the being approaches.

On the ground below, four M1-A2 Abrams tanks race down the dirt pathway in single formation, their laser range finders taking aim down the center of the ancient Mayan road.

Mick’s eyes widen, his heart fluttering.

Above the treetops, the alien’s cranium appears, its crimson eyes glittering like rubies in the afternoon sun.

Tezcatilpoca …

The tanks open fire, four projectiles exploding as one out of the armored vehicle’s 120 mm smoothbore guns.