Queen, Bishop, and Knight leaned over and looked out of Queen’s window. For endless miles in the distance the jungle grew in a flat sheet of green, but here it rose up high into the sky, as though mountains had sprung up in the middle of a plain. But they weren’t mountains. They were ancient temples and pyramids built by the ancient Mayans. Near the peak of the tallest rise, the jungle cleared enough to see the dirty white stone hidden beneath. To most, the site felt both ominous and wondrous.

To Queen, Bishop, and Knight, it was something else entirely. For each knew that if they found the man they were looking for, it would become a place of violence and death not seen since the ancient Mayans soaked the forest floor with the blood of human sacrifice.

Chapter Forty-Six

FORTY-FIVE

Amesbury, England

A GRAY HAZE hung over the late-afternoon sky, threatening to descend and cover the landscape in fog. If not for the patchwork of green and yellow fields on either side of the road, the day would have been depressing. Despite the gloom, the drive from Heathrow International Airport in London had gone smoothly, once again thanks to the plush black Mercedes awaiting King and Alexander.

King found himself riding shotgun as usual. Alexander knew the way and enjoyed driving his cars fast, which didn’t normally bother King, but a driver that can’t be killed may not take as much care as a mere mortal.

To distract himself from the breakneck driving, King opened his cell phone and placed a call he’d been avoiding. Not because he didn’t want to speak to his parents, but because he didn’t know what to say. There was no time for a conversation and calling just to check in seemed wildly inappropriate given the fact that his mother was supposed to be dead and his father had been recently freed from jail.

“Hi honey!” his mother answered on the second ring.

“Hey Mom.”

“Have you found them yet? The men behind the attack?”

King grinned. It was business as usual with Lynn. “You know I can’t tell you anything.”

Alexander took a right turn at a fork in the road. Stonehenge loomed to the left. After driving through the city and now the country, the megalithic monument seemed out of place, like it had been transported from someplace far away. Then his phone rang. After looking at the caller ID screen, Alexander answered the call with a hushed voice.

King strained to hear what he was saying, but Peter’s voice shouted from the background in his own phone. “Is he in Iraq? That’s still a hot spot for these kinds of things.”

“Are you in Iraq, dear?” his mother asked.

King sighed. There was no harm in telling them he wasn’t in Iraq and it would stop them from worrying. “No, I’m not in Iraq.”

“Will you be?”