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“I understand that your family had a life-threatening experience down in Mexico a year ago. It was in the news that your wife didn’t come back. A coma, I believe?”
“Yes, but as you probably know, she wasn’t in Singapore,” Roth explained. “We didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. I’m guessing you listened to the recording I made on Agent Sanchez’s phone?”
The senator nodded. “Yes, yes I did.” He started fidgeting, making Roth more uneasy. “One of my colleagues, a dear friend actually, has taken trips to Cancún for many years, often at the Calakmul resorts. We’ve known each other a long time. And he . . . he suggested to me that I bring my family on a trip with him. He was quite insistent. From what I understand, that trip may have been my last.”
Jonathon swallowed. “Who is your friend?” They’d all remained standing, which was growing more awkward by the moment.
Senator Coudron walked to the mahogany table. A folder lay on it, and he flipped it open, removing a photograph of another senator. Roth recognized him instantly. He’d seen the man in the arena at the Jaguar Temple. One of the guests who had come to watch the game.
“He was there,” Roth whispered. Both of the twins approached and looked at the picture.
Coudron sighed. “This is very difficult, as you may imagine. My friend has been on the intelligence committee with me for several years. He has access to the highest security briefings imaginable.”
Which meant Jacob Calakmul did too.
“Mr. Roth, you were held there against your will. You didn’t know why you’d been brought down there?”
“We did not. Some friends of ours in Bozeman invited us at the last minute. They said another family wasn’t able to come.”
Coudron sighed again. “That family . . . was mine,” he said softly. “Mr. Beasley was a significant contributor to my campaign.”
“You’re not from Montana,” Roth said, confused.
“No. Campaign contributions come from everywhere. I was grief stricken when I heard Eric and his family had died. And I’ve . . . suspected there was more to it than what I read in the news. I followed your story closely, Mr. Roth. Do you know what happened to your wife?”
Roth shook his head no. “Calakmul kept her as a hostage.”
“I’m sorry,” the senator confessed. “I truly am. Dr. Estrada,” Coudron said, turning to the professor, “I understand your research into LiDAR technology may have revealed the location where this conspiracy originated.”
“Yes, Senator,” Estrada said. “I haven’t been inside the temple, not like this family has, but my pilot and I flew near it. We gave the location to the FBI.”
Senator Coudron looked queasy. “And you work for UC San Diego. You have no involvement with the government?”
“None. I’m an archaeology professor. We work with Qualcomm.”
Senator Coudron pulled out his cell phone. Sighing, he stared at the screen. Then he brought up a contact and dialed it.
“Director Wright. I’ve spoken to them. I’m convinced they’re telling the truth. You may proceed.”
Roth startled. The senator was speaking to the director of the FBI.
Coudron ended the call and turned to Monica. “We must do what we can to stop this disaster from unfolding any further. Timing is paramount. Now I must go attend the hearing. I’m sorry, Mr. Roth. Children. I’m sorry your family got dragged into this.”
Roth was dumbfounded. He shook Senator Coudron’s hand silently and watched as he left. The senator’s staffer, Daniel, hung back to escort them to the parking garage.
“Why do I have the feeling that something is going to happen that they didn’t tell us about?” Dr. Estrada said with a troubled look.
Monica had a serious expression. “I don’t know what operation he was referring to. It’s above my pay grade. Now we’re going to get you both back to your respective hotels.”
“I’ll take the Roths,” Jordan said.
“I’ll have a driver take you.”
Jordan shook his head. “We’ll catch an Uber. Better if you don’t know.”
Her brow furrowing, she said, “Lund is on his way to Dulles. You need backup.”
“We have backup in DC,” Jordan said. “But we’re close by. Trust me.”