Laredo, Texas, Saturday 8:30 am, Alvaredo's property
Alvaredo was sitting at his desk. As usual in the morning, he was checking his emails.
Steve, his secretary, entered the office with the mail and newspaper.
"Good morning, Sir."
"Good morning, Steve."
The secretary sat down and the two men went through the day's agenda. This also allowed Alvaredo to hear the gossip from the city. His information system was flawless; everyone owed him something or wanted to be kept in his good graces. Nothing that happened in Laredo escaped him.
"A rich couple has arrived from New York," Steve informed him.
"Tourists?"
"No. Their jet had a technical problem; they requested an emergency landing." He checked his note pad. "Mr. and Mrs. Delmott. Apparently, Mrs. Delmott is about to become the most feared person in town." He had a light chuckle. "Nothing is good enough for her. She seems to be used to more luxury than our city can offer."
He turned a sheet of paper.
"I did some research. Ted Delmott is a very private business man. They are quite wealthy, yet they keep out of the spotlights. I have found very little information. They seem to avoid journalists and tabloids as much as possible."
Alvaredo nodded. He liked his privacy too. He launched a search on his computer, accessing private servers. The Delmotts were indeed more than wealthy; they belonged to some exclusive circles, had very powerful contacts. If Eleonore Delmott seemed to be on the frivolous side, Ted could be an interesting business partner to reach out to.
"I'll ask Alma to invite them for tea. They must be bored to tears."
"Very well, sir. I'll have the invitation delivered." He handed Alvaredo a paper. "The final guests list for this evening."
"Thank you."
Steve left the room and Alvaredo put the key to his drawer. He frowned when the key didn't enter as smoothly as usual. He turned the key slowly and opened the drawer. He checked the files; one of them was slightly askew.
He mused for a moment, watched the workshop door.
Caffrey…
No doubt about it, his "guest" had already searched his office. He wasn't surprised. He knew sooner or later, the thief would want to find information about him. He wasn't worried; the most sensitive files were out of reach. He checked the name on the file.
Of course, it was his own. Alvaredo had admitted having had surveillance on him; these documents only confirmed it. He put the file back and closed the drawer.
He would meet Caffrey around breakfast, see how he reacted. Having a man like him inside his inner circle would be a formidable asset, but for now he knew Caffrey didn't trust him one bit. The road would be long before the man became an ally. Of course, his initial plan wasn't out yet. Caffrey was way too smart not to be a real danger. If he didn't become an asset, then he wouldn't make it out alive of the property. No one had seen him come in, no one would come looking… He was just hoping he would locate the mask before he had to get rid of the man.
After his late return from Laredo, Neal had laid down on the bed fully clothed to think, intrigued by the documents he had seen in Alvaredo's office. He would have liked to check it again, but it might prove complicated. He hadn't noticed falling asleep.
He woke with a gasp when he heard a knock on the door. He checked his watch. Esteban, with his morning coffee, no doubt.
The young kitchen help had found out Neal loved good coffee and had taken upon himself to bring a fresh cup in the morning, before breakfast.
"Your coffee, señor," Esteban said, slowly opening the door.
"Adelante, Esteban. Muchas gracias," Neal answered, his Spanish quite rusty.
"Did you sleep well, sir?" Esteban asked politely, seemingly totally unfazed by the fact that his employer's guest had slept with his clothes on.
Neal smelled the cup. Esteban had prepared it the Mexican way, with a dash of cinnamon. The fragrance was exquisite.
"So, you're getting ready for the big fiesta?" Neal asked, remembering Alvaredo's invitation.
"Only part of it. The señora has a catering company for the party. She needs 'professionals' to run this kind of events," Esteban answered, his tone clearly displaying what he thought about this lack of confidence on their own work.
"At least, if anything goes wrong, you won't be responsible," Neal offered.
Esteban shrugged, apparently not caring, then turned to the door.
"Have a good day, señor. Breakfast is served on the terrace."
After a shower and a change of clothes, Neal went to the patio to eat. He missed his rooftop view, yet the setting was quite nice. Alvaredo probably used all the water he could get from the lake to feed the fountains and irrigate the gardens. He had to admit that it had been nicely done, with a respect for the local vegetation that was present among the various water spots.
He wasn't surprised when Alvaredo came to sit at the table.
"Good morning, Mr. Caffrey. I see you followed my advice," he said looking at his watch.
"You didn't give much of a choice," Neal answered drinking his coffee.
"For your own good. After a nice evening, you can only work better today."
Neal clenched his teeth to hold the hasty reply he had been about to make. No use getting on the wrong side of his new employer.
"You're having me followed, transmitter notwithstanding?" Neal asked in a light tone, as if the answer wasn't of much importance.
"I don't need to. I'm a public figure in Laredo. The town owes me a lot. It is therefore quite easy to get some… services."
Such as a whole town watching me, Neal thought. Nice…
"Is that why you wish to introduce me to your guests tonight?"
"Partly, indeed. Some of the guests come from other cities though. My motivations run deeper, but I will explain it to you in due time."
Neal thought back to the file he had seen in Alvaredo's office. He would need to find a way to explore his office more thoroughly. Which was a bit of a challenge due to the surveillance he was submitted to. What were Alvaredo's secrets?
Having finished his breakfast, he went back to the workshop. He was opening the lid to the chest, when he decided to change his approach. Since the document wasn't revealing any clue, he was going to look for information on the treasure itself; maybe even the mask and try to know more about the legend around it. Maybe the pictograms on the parchment were linked to events that would make sense with a context.
He started perusing the different books stored in the room, reading a page here, watching a reproduction there. Soon, he was deeply engrossed in Cortes' and the Spanish Conquistadores' history.
"The priest came out of the pyramid. He was dressed in a long white gown, his head hidden behind a gold mask. My interpreter explained it was the Gods' mask. It told the future to the priest wearing it …"
Neal stopped reading and frowned. He had read something about the Gods' mask earlier. What if the shaman's mask was actually the Gods' mask? Lamenting, as often, not having Mozzie's perfect memory, he had to search for a little while among the books on the table before he found what he was looking for.
"The Gods' mask is described for the first time in the journal of a Jesuit priest attached to the services of Cortes in Tenochtitlan. It is a mask made of gold, with jade incrusted eyes. The headset is made of gold feathers incredibly thin. The lips are made of rubies. The head itself doesn't look like any other Aztec mask, usually depicting an animal. The description mentions a human face, smooth skinned, big almond eyes. The very thin lips on the bottom of a triangle shaped face…"
"Hello Roswell," Neal whispered.
He put the book down, deep in thought. Mozzie would probably already have jumped on the comment to explain aliens had contacted the Aztecs. Personally he needed a little more tangible facts. The astronaut stela belonged to the Maya, close geographically but from a different culture and time period. The found it difficult to believe aliens were the reason for the surprising scientific knowledge of pre-Columbian Indians. One of the main reasons their culture seemed so advanced at the time was because of the impact of the church in old Europe. How many men, beside Galileo, had to give up the truth to save their own lives?
"Mentions to this mask totally disappear after the battle known as the 'Noche Triste'. When the Spanish had to escape, large quantities of gold and silver disappeared, as the military were slaughtered or drowned in the lake around the city. Most probably the mask was melted to feed the treasury to be brought back to the Spanish crown…"
"The different testimonies gathered confer the mask magical powers, including predicting the future, by giving its holder a vision gift but also control over people…"
So the shaman's mask was supposed to allow its bearer to predict the future…
"During religious ceremonies, hallucinogen drugs were often used, allowing the shamans to hear the gods…"
"Crowds brought to a semi-conscious state could then easily be manipulated by the kings and leaders who needed to affirm their power in times of continuous wars…"
The more he thought about it, the more Neal was thinking that owning that unique piece wasn't the only interest of Alvaredo. His fascination for unknown works of art hid something darker.
A thirst for power…
Owning what no one knew about put him at a superior level. There was only a step from there to leadership.
I want to be the master of the world.
Neal couldn't help a smile thinking of the comics where the bad guys used the line, then felt a sudden chill as he realized Alvaredo sounded crazy enough to actually own up to the phrase.
Did he really believe in the power of the mask? Did he take the legend at face value?
Neal found it difficult to believe that the mask could have any supernatural power, but experience had proved him life wasn't always necessarily rational… Many ancient objects kept hiding their secrets.
The files he had briefly seen in the office proved Alvaredo had an intelligence network as good as the CIA, FBI and NSA put together. In any case, the information he had gathered on him proved he had high placed contacts. Who knew how far he could reach? Alvaredo wasn't just a mad collector, he was dangerous.
He thought back to his first conversation with Alvaredo the day of his arrival –of his kidnapping. Alvaredo was aware of his release denial. How did he get the information? It wasn't a secret, but it hadn't been wildly broadcasted either. It meant he had contacts inside the FBI…
Neal focused back on his task. He had to find a way to search the office again.
He decided to copy the glyphs on separated pieces of paper. Since the symbols could also be syllables, maybe he needed to gather several pictures to make one word. There were lots of combinations, but the secret might lie there…
The table was soon too small to hold the different words. He had copied the symbols several times to work more easily. He pushed some furniture and sat on the floor.
Several hours later, Alvaredo found Neal sitting in the floor surrounded by a sea of paper pieces, moving them around.
"New version of Scrabble, Mr. Caffrey?"
Lost in his research, Neal hadn't heard him coming in. He watched the paper and smirked.
"Sort of…"
Alvaredo sighed.
"Mr. Caffrey, I am a very busy business man with a full agenda," he stated.
Neal frowned not making sense of the comment.
"I admire your commitment to this work, but I am not your personal watch."
Neal cast a glance to the clock on the wall.
"I seem to remember telling you we had guests at 7:00. If you could get dressed…" he said showing the door.
Neal had a slight wince.
"I will the ready in time, Mr. Alvaredo."
"Thank you," the man answered with a satisfied nod.
Laredo, Tx, Saturday 8:00 am, Johnson&Co's office
Mr. and Mrs. Solis had arrived at the requested time at the warehouse rented by the caterer. They had gone through the check-up process without a glitch.
After a few hours of preparation, four vans stopped in front of the huge gate of the property.
John's eye, sitting in the first van, caught a sign carved on top of one of the pillars. The guards inspected the cars. He waited for them to move to another vehicle and took a picture of the engraving with his phone.
He had already seen it somewhere, but he couldn't remember when or where.
Once they had exited the vehicles, the staff was taken to a room where two guards were waiting. Guessing they were about to be searched, John and Shaw stood in the back, allowing themselves some freeway if anything went wrong, they didn't have any weapon with them.
Suddenly, John remembered where he had seen the symbol, which actually was also present on the one dollar American bill. It had been during a research for the CIA on secret societies; the name jumped at his face, "Illuminati".
There were only two waiters before him. He quickly sent a text message to Finch along with the picture: ##Find info on Illuminati##.
He was searched just as all the other waiters, and the guards asked him to turn off his mobile and place it in a plastic box. Security measures were astounding.
The work of the caterer's team could start. John and Shaw went to work; working undercover was a second nature. Waiter was far from being the worst they had done. The buffet was a piece of work, up to par with the greatest reception he had attended to in the past. Alvaredo apparently knew how to impress his guests.
When Neal came from his room after getting ready, he met Mrs. Alvaredo who was talking with the chief of staff. She was wearing a beautiful evening gown that enhanced the honey color of her skin and her hair was tied up in a neat artistic bun. The caterer nodded and went to the garden where a white canopy had been set up.
"Neal," she greeted him. "That smoking suits you perfectly. I'm afraid I won't be seeing much of my friends this evening…"
"Alma, I now know why there are so many guards around; your husband is probably worried someone steals you from him."
"Oh you, charmer…" she reproached, giving him a slight clap on the arm.
"Everything is going as you expected?"
"Yes," she said, watching the last details being finalized. "I have a caterer from San Antonio take care of this party. Laredo is a lovely town, but no company can take care of this kind of event." She had a light chuckle. "We would be having barbecue and patato salad!"
She went toward her husband who had just appeared in the hallway.
"Hector, dear."
She stopped to cut a fresh rose button and slipped it on his lapel.
"I was telling our guest that Laredo sometimes lacked luster."
"Mr. Caffrey is from New York. Your caterer will probably seem quite dull to him, honey."
"I am sure Mrs. Alvaredo will get the best of them," Neal intervened.
He felt his heart tighten thinking about Elizabeth. Now, she knew how to organize a party.
The guests started arriving. The candles were lit in the garden. Neal watched the new faces. Higher ups from the area, but also business men coming from other cities. Alvaredo introduced him sometimes, but on the whole Neal was left alone, trying to get away from Alma's female friends who seemed eager to meet the "artist from New York".
"You're painting their portrait…"
"What a lovely idea."
"Would you be available for us when you're done with Mr. Alvaredo's painting?"
Neal hadn't noticed that two of the waiters were watching him closely. Shaw was carrying the tray on which he had helped himself several times, but he hadn't recognized her.
Finally, he managed to dodge his new fan club and went down a corridor he had never used before. He had been so focused on his research that despite what he had told himself when he has discovered the car collection, he still hadn't visited the property carefully.
He froze in front of a painting. Eyes wide with surprise, he got closer to check its authenticity. It was indeed the original. How on earth had that painting gotten there?
"I always wondered how you would react upon seeing it," Alvaredo's slightly amused voice said by his side.
Neal jumped. Apparently, even in a house full of guests, his "employer" always had an eye on him.
"I'll admit I'm surprised. I thought you favored less famous works."
"This one has a fascinating story. I mean, its disappearance during… approximately seven years?"
On the wall, "St George and the Dragon" was hung in a good place. As usual, Alvaredo's information network seemed to be up to date.
"Of course, no one will ever be able to prove it, but I'm pretty sure you are responsible for its disappearance… and reappearance," Alvaredo said, his eyes on the painting.
Neal's face remained expressionless. That painting was linked to far too personal memories to allow Alvaredo the pleasure of the truth.
"It is a magnificent piece of art," he simply said.
His host had a slight smile, apparently satisfied by the answer. He nodded to his guest.
"Enjoy the party, Mr. Caffrey."
Neal watched him leave, then turned to the painting. So Alvaredo has ordered a theft to get the painting. He hadn't heard of this latest disappearance; the insurance company had probably kept it quiet. He wondered if Sara was in charge of the recovery. He couldn't help a sad sigh thinking of the redhead and turned to the bay window opening on the garden.
Seeing that Neal was finally alone, John went to him, carrying his tray of Champagne cups.
"You're quite difficult to find Neal," he said presenting the tray with all the elegance of a seasoned waiter.
Neal jumped, looking like a deer faced with headlights. He took a step backwards opening his eyes wide when he recognized John behind the disguise.
"No, please, don't run. I've been looking for you for a while, I am tired. Don't make me shoot you."
"I really don't feel like operating on anyone in this heat," Shaw added from behind him.
Speechless, Neal watched the two ex-agents framing him. He looked around him, no one was paying attention to their little group for now, but he knew he was being watched all the time.
"What are you doing here?" he asked in a faint voice.
"That should actually be our question, Neal," John said with a little smile.
Neal seemed terrified by their presence. Reese still couldn't understand what the man's play was.
"We only have one question and will be out of your sight: are you here voluntarily?"
"It's complicated…"
"Seems quite simple to me, on the contrary," Shaw answered. "You're here voluntarily and we disappear; you are a prisoner and we free you. See? Simple enough."
Neal watched the entrance of the room with a scared look. Alvaredo was talking with a couple of guests. He picked up the cloth John had on his arm and pretended to clean his tuxedo.
"I can't talk to you. Get out before you get caught."
"Neal, we need to talk to you," John insisted. "Tomorrow, 6:00 pm, La Posada hotel."
"Okay. Leave me alone now," he spat throwing the cloth to John's face and going toward the garden.
Neal met Alvaredo a few minutes later.
"Problem?" he asked.
Neal sighed mentally, glad he had sent John away. Although he was the perfect host to his guest, talking to everyone with an obvious use of this kind of events, Alvaredo kept his eyes on him all the time.
Neal shook his head with a smile.
"Nothing serious. Clumsy waiter. Good thing, Champagne doesn't stain." He raised his glass in a toast. "Excellent vintage by the way, congratulations."
"My wife has a soft spot for French Champagne. This one comes straight from the cellars of a little producer I keep secret."
"Your fascination for hidden treasures doesn't stop at art I see…" Neal commented.
"Indeed," Alvaredo confirmed with a nod, turning back to his guests.
TBC
