A beat passed in silence while Cassie and Ian both stood frozen in shock, staring at the girl across the room from them. Solange, for her part, stared back with an expression that was a mixture of proud defiance and shamefaced meekness: standing straight and tall in the doorway, she lifted her chin a little and clenched her jaw tightly, but a closer look showed that her posture was a little too stiff for real confidence, and the corners of her thinly-drawn lips quaked a little when she met their eyes. Cassie's brows furrowed in confusion. Of all the things she had expected to learn that night, neither of the statements just spoken had been it.

Her instincts suddenly catching up with her, Cassie lifted the gun in her hand and pointed it at the other girl. "W-what," she stammered, her expression hardening into a scowl, "did you say?"

Solange swallowed visibly and lowered her gaze a bit. Only a couple lights were on in the hotel room, and in the dim light Solange's already dark eyes were like flecks of obsidian set in the deep bronze of her skin. "Which would you prefer I start with?" she asked with resignation.

Cassie's eyes flicked over to Ian, who looked at her in turn. "Whichever's going to explain the fastest whose side you're really on," Ian suggested with an ironic shrug.

Cassie scoffed and adjusted her grip on the gun. "Yeah."

The door between their two rooms crashed open. Cutter burst in and then froze at the sight of the gun in Cassie's hands. Eyes wide, he cleared his throat and commented dryly, "I see things have gone a bit sideways in my absence." Under his breath he added, "This is why kids shouldn't be allowed to play with guns."

"Cutter." Ian offered him a sarcastic smile. "I was beginning to worry about you. Need to sit down and catch your breath, old man?"

"Oh you're a riot, mate," the Englishman grumbled. He pointed between Cassie and Solange and asked, "Am I interrupting something?"

"Seems our friend here has some skeletons in her closet," Cassie said coldly, her eyes never leaving the sight on the end of her gun. "She was just about to start talking."

Cutter made a face. "Lovely! Anybody up for drinks?" he asked, faking a smile. "No?" With a heavy sigh, he plopped down onto a chair and loosened his collar a bit. "Right then." Reaching for a bottle and a glass, Cutter poured himself a drink and took a long swig.

Solange looked between her partners, pausing at Cassie to give an uncertain frown. Taking a deep breath, she ran her hand through her hair and chewed on her lip. "My father's… obsession with this treasure… is not mere historic interest or desire for wealth," she began, choosing each word carefully. "You see, it is a family pursuit."

Cassie's eyes narrowed. "Explain," she demanded.

"He saw it as his job to finish what his ancestor was unable to," Solange continued, meeting their eyes meaningfully. "To restore the Cortes family name."

Ian's head cocked to the side, a puzzled look crossing his face. "You mean-"

"My family name is Cortes," Solange confirmed, biting her lip again.

Cutter scoffed. "Well, I didn't see that one coming." He frowned at his whiskey, threw the rest back in a gulp, and poured another round for himself.

"Why didn't you just say that?" Cassie demanded. "What's all the secrecy about? You just needed some attention? Did you-"

"Because I was afraid you wouldn't help me if you knew!" Solange interjected, cutting Cassie off mid-rant. Her eyes were wide, and she gulped as she fought to keep her gaze level with Cassie's intimidating and accusatory glare. "Cortes has been villainized by history. I thought that if you realized my connection to this was so personal, you would think I was out for personal gain, like he was."

Cassie felt a headache coming on; she squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose to ward it off. "Kay," Cassie's voice was saturated with frustration as she pressed her palm down on the air for emphasis. "That's one question. Next- what about this map? If it's not the map to the Smoking Mirror, what is it? And what are Tristan and his men really after?"

Solange squirmed. Cassie's eyes opened and flicked up to meet hers. "You." She pointed at the brunette. "They're after you, aren't they?" When she got no immediate response, Cassie forged ahead. "I've been wondering about all the times they could've gotten the coins but didn't. On the beach in Jamaica, the display case in the Escarra mansion…" She shook her head slowly. "That guy could have gotten it while he held you and Raul at gunpoint, but he didn't. Because he wanted you!"

One of Solange's hands moved to a necklace around her throat, her graceful fingers gently resting on the slim gold chain. Cassie suddenly realized that, while she caught glimpses of the chain every now and then, she had never actually seen what was hanging from it. "No," Solange said quietly. "They don't want me. They want this."

Her hands dropped suddenly from the chain to the neckline of her dress, and, grabbing the fabric with both fists, she yanked down. "Hey, whoa now!" Ian laughed nervously and held out a cautionary hand while he glanced over at Cassie. Cutter leaned forward almost instinctively, his eyes widening, then he suddenly caught himself and flopped back again. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he muttered something that sounded like "Not today, Sully..."

Solange held the neckline of the dress just low enough to reveal a medallion about three inches in diameter, gold, and with a Spanish cross embossed on its surface. Stone-faced, the young woman waited a few moments, then released the top of her dress, which sprung back up, concealing all but the chain again. "When Cortes returned from Honduras," Solange began, "He was immediately suspended from the office of governor. Two other men took his place and then died, and Cortes fell suspect of poisoning them. Eventually, the position passed to Alonso de Estrada. Estrada commissioned a man by the name of Diego de Figueroa to go on a raiding expedition to the south. On his return voyage his ship sank, killing him, and taking with it the Smoking Mirror found by Cortes." Solange paused and exhaled softly. "Cortes was able to establish where the ship went down thanks to a survivor, but he never told anyone the location of the wreck, and the mirror was never retrieved. He hoped to recover it someday when he was once more in good political standing, but that day never came. His life from that point on was marked with many bitter rivalries, scandals, and deep rifts of mistrust between him and his colleagues. Crippled with debts, lawsuits, and controversy, he never had the confidence or means to go after an item of such power, for fear it would either get him in further trouble with the Crown or be taken from him by jealous contemporaries. Eventually, Cortes fell sick and died, but he passed on this medallion through the generations- and inside of it, the map to the shipwreck which holds the Smoking Mirror."

Another silence followed in which Cutter bowed his head and shook it, while Ian and Cassie exchanged skeptical glances. Leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees, Cutter piped up, "So, not to be a broken record, luv- but is there any particular reason you couldn't have just said that?"

"Thank you…" Cassie muttered.

Solange was unflinching, her expression almost like something carved in stone. "I needed to keep some cards to myself. I thought once we found the coins, you might take them and run, going after the treasure without me." She shrugged. "I needed to make sure that you would still need me for as long as possible."

With eyes squeezed shut in disbelief, Cassie shook her head and asked, "So, those coins- that map- what the hell does it go to?"

"Tollan," Solange said simply. Leaning back against the door frame, she jutted one hip out as she shifted her weight. "The lost city that was home to the Toltecs, and the origin of the Aztecs."

Cassie pursed her lips. "Okaaay," she said, her patience wearing thin. "So if it's the map to Tollan, why doesn't Tristan want it?"

In the corner, Cutter huffed and gestured to Cassie. "Oh, for crying out loud, Cass- are you going to make her have this whole conversation at gunpoint?"

Cassie looked over at him with a frown, and reluctantly lowered her weapon. Solange nodded gratefully at the Englishman. "Thank you." Briefly clearing her throat, she continued, "He doesn't want it because he already knows where it is. The Ocelotl have known for generations- in fact they've built their base around it. What they don't have is the mirror."

"And," Ian guessed, "Without the mirror, they can't get in."

Solange nodded.

"So you guys have been at a stalemate."

Raising an eyebrow, Solange added, "Like Cortes, we didn't want to risk raising the mirror until we knew we would be able to use it without hindrance. If we were still looking around for the pieces of the Apostles' map, it would just give the Ocelotl that much more time to take the mirror from us."

Ian scoffed. "So, the entrance to this great, lost city- is right at the middle of Tristan's base?" He sighed and stared at the ceiling. "Fantastic."

"It just wouldn't be a treasure hunt if we didn't have to break into a heavily-guarded compound somewhere," Cutter grumbled.

Cassie exhaled low and slow, then glared at Solange. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?" she seethed.

Solange arched a perfectly shaped brow and huffed. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you don't agree with how I've chosen to handle this, but why do you have to be this angry?"

"Oh, she's not angry," Ian said casually. "Not yet. You'd know if she was angry at you."

Cassie rolled her eyes and dropped into a chair, crossing her arms as she silently fumed.

"Sooo," Ian scratched the back of his head. "Anything else you should tell us?"

Solange thought for a moment and shook her head. "No."

Cutter sniffed and looked at Cassie. "Well then," he said, sucking in a breath and clapping his hands together. "Give us a minute or two, will you darling?"

Solange was hesitant, but nodded curtly and left. Cutter watched her go, waiting until the door closed behind her before turning to his young partner. "Alright, Cassandra- what's got your pants all up in a bunch?"

Cassie's eyes slowly turned to glare at him, and she muttered, "Nothing." After a pause, she added, "And I'm not wearing pants, so that doesn't work."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "He's British."

It took a moment for Cassie to catch on, and when she did a tinge of red came to her cheeks in spite of herself. "Oh, right." Looking away, she grumbled, "I'm fine."

"Of course you are," Cutter said reassuringly. "Something's got you in a mood all of a sudden, though, and you gotta deal with it." Gesturing toward the door Solange walked out of, he continued "Sure, it turns out the fine young lady previously known as Miss Rodriguez is no Mother Theresa, but that's to be expected in this business. At least she didn't try to put a gun to our back or something."

"How do we know she wasn't going to?" Cassie exploded angrily. "I mean, come on! Who's to say she wasn't just waiting to have all the pieces so that she could shoot us and leave us in an alley or in the jungle somewhere? I'm not going to let some spoiled rich girl kill you and Foster!"

Cutter frowned and shot a knowing glance at Ian. Adopting a gentler tone, he moved closer to Cassie and put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, Cass. I've been doing this for a long time, now. I've seen a lot of traitors, and I've betrayed a few people myself. I think I've got a pretty good nose for sniffing out rats." He leaned forward so he could look Cassie directly in the eye, and when he spoke, his normally coarse and gravelly voice had a softness to it that Cassie wasn't sure she had heard before. "I know you're worried about us, luv. But Solange- she doesn't have the grit of someone who's looking to stab us in the back. She's scared, Cassie. She's terrified, but doing everything she can to hold it together long enough that she can complete what her father started. And in her mind, it has to be her that would do it, not somebody else." Cutter gave a low sigh. Cassie lifted her eyes to meet his, her dour expression beginning to waver. "You've never been in the place she is, luv. Try to have some understanding for her."

Cassie's eyes were searching as she gazed at the Englishman, his hard and weathered features now looking at her with compassion. "So you really think she can be trusted?" she asked.

Cutter sucked in a breath and held it, and slapped his knees as he straightened up. "Well, I don't know if I'd go that far," he said with a chuckle. "She's still dangerous, no doubt about it. The difference is that she's not dangerous because she's trying to snuff us. It's just that she's too emotionally attached."

"Which, incidentally," Ian added with a grimace, "could make her even more dangerous. If it gets too personal for her, it'll be easy for her to make bad decisions spur-of-the-moment."

Cutter gave a curt nod and looked at him. "Exactly. We'll have to keep a close eye on her, either way."

Cassie sighed in frustration and stared at the wall. "So… what now?"

"Well," Cutter said. "We lay some ground work for how this is going to work."

Cassie's eyes flicked over to him. "And?"

After exchanging a glance with Cutter, Ian spoke, "And we keep going," he said determinedly. "We find this thing, and we keep Tristan from getting it."

Cassie looked him in the eye and frowned. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

Cutter grinned, then strode over to the door and opened it. Leaning halfway out, he called, "Miss Cortes? The doctor will see you now."

Cassie rolled her eyes and continued to scowl at nothing, while Ian wore a thinly-veiled smirk. After a moment, the brunette girl warily entered the room and Cutter closed the door behind her. "Alright," the Englishman began in a businesslike tone. "Listen up, princess. We need to all work together on this, but if we're going to do that we need to be able to trust each other. No more secrets, right?"

Solange looked nervously at her three partners and nodded.

Cutter smiled. "Attagirl. Now, why don't you show us what's in that medallion?"