“I talked to Victor Alamán last night,” Gage said, having called on the sat phone Velásquez’s men didn’t know he had. “I told him what was going on down here and that if he wanted his share of the gold, he had better figure something out and fast.”

“So . . . what? He is sending in the Mexican army?”

“Something like that. Mexico gets the lion’s share of the treasure. They’ve got a big stake in this, but it takes time to set things up, and Alamán won’t step in unless we find the gold.”

“So we are on our own.”

“At least for now,” Gage said.

Abby came out of the room, wiping tears, and they headed for the Hummer. Gage glanced around and spotted one of the men he had seen in the cantina the day they had arrived; he was thick-necked, with short muscular arms and stout thighs. More of them prowled the area around the hotel. Paulo’s reinforcements. Local cartel soldiers.

Mateo got into one of the Hummers, accompanied by Velásquez’s men, while Gage drove Abby in the other, with Santos in the back seat.

“Vamos!” The scar lifted threateningly, and Santos’s hand rested on the butt of his automatic rifle.

Gage cranked the engine and pulled out onto the road, followed by Mateo in the other SUV. The cartel crew piled into the cab and truck bed of a dirty old white Toyota pickup, and all of them trailed off down the road.

Nobody talked along the way, not until they pulled onto the grounds of the old hacienda and parked in back. Gage figured Edge and his crew were either already there or had followed and would soon be in place.

A heavy mist started to fall, and the wind picked up. They put on rain slickers and unloaded the gear, including headlamps for working in the underground chambers, ignoring Velásquez’s men and the gun-toting locals who relaxed under cover in the trees.

All but Santos, who planned to follow them into the tunnels under the house. Gage went down first, hand-over-hand along a thick rope. He tensed as he watched Abby descend behind him, but she made quick work of it and jumped the last few feet to the ground. Mateo joined them, and Santos followed.

The three of them went to work with picks and shovels, while Santos propped his shoulders against a crumbling wall, fingering his assault rifle in warning.

It didn’t take long to break through into another chamber. Gage adjusted his headlamp and took a look inside, but the room was as empty as the last two.

“Over here!” Abby called out excitedly. “I think I’ve found the main corridor!”

Gage shined the beam of his headlamp through the opening, illuminating the darkness beyond. “You’re right. Same floor plan as Velásquez’s hacienda. All the rooms down here open off a central hallway.”