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Carter’s mouth twisted into a snarl. “That is classified information. How did you hear about it?”
Lund shrugged but said nothing.
“I’m missing some context,” Roth said. “Look, I know I don’t have security clearance or any of that. But I do know some stuff from my experiences with Calakmul. He warned that violence and disease were coming. Soon. It’s possible this virus is his doing. Likely, even. I might be able to help, if you let me, but I need information in order to do that.”
“Let me just say,” Monica added, “that your cooperation has been useful. Remember the FBI radios in Bozeman, how they were compromised because Garcia was listening in? Someone who used to work for the NSA is feeding Calakmul information. It’s like a chessboard, only we can’t see all the pieces in play. That’s why we need your help.”
Brower tilted his head slightly. “Why would Calakmul ask us to turn you over in exchange for removing the crypto lock on the servers? What do you think he expects to come of it?”
Roth leaned back in his chair, and it squeaked loudly. He was uncomfortable and still sweating. “It’s probably a magician’s trick.”
Brower’s eyebrows slanted toward each other in confusion.
“Misdirection,” Roth said.
“So what is he trying to misdirect us from?”
“Doesn’t the server have a backup drive? Any server manager worth anything keeps a backup.”
“Of course it does. It’ll take three days to recover the data.”
“In which time, the hacker will compromise the backup servers too, if he hasn’t already,” Roth said. “I’m a history teacher, not an IT guy, but it seems logical.”
“I am an IT guy,” Brower said with a tone of anger. His composure was beginning to crack. “If we’ve lost that backup, there’s no way we can find Calakmul’s hidden temple. Dr. Estrada flew over it, but he’s no pilot. That jungle is too vast for him to pinpoint a specific location like that.”
Roth rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know what else I can do to help.”
“You can give us the names of who you saw,” Brower said.
“Off the table for now,” Lund countered.
Roth trusted Lund’s instincts. “Look, those people are probably back down in Mexico. It would be safer down there right now, especially if he’s behind the virus spreading from the cruise ships. Can’t you look into who’s flown down there over the past couple of weeks?”
“We know Moretti’s family is there,” Lund said. “Who else is on your list of suspects?”
“We have a meeting with the director in an hour, and you haven’t told us anything useful!” Carter snarled. “You’re wasting our time.”
“Tell me more about the virus,” Roth demanded. “Is it like smallpox? What is it? I haven’t seen anything about it on the news.”
Brower looked at Carter and then gave a curt nod.
“If this information gets out, there will be a mass panic,” Carter said. “The president has been meeting with his national security team in the Situation Room every Friday to get updates on it and plan a strategic response. The virus may have started spreading on cruise ships, but it’s been infecting people in major cities around the world. It’s spreading exponentially. These meetings are only going to get more frequent as time goes on.”
“What’s the source?”
“Unknown, but it’s spreading through the European tourist community.”
“It started in Cozumel,” Roth whispered.
Brower frowned and leaned closer.
“Cozumel,” Roth said more loudly. “Do you know how many cruise ships dock there during the holiday season? Calakmul controls that island. The virus was started by a . . . a glyph, probably.”
“A GIF?” Brower asked, his nostrils flaring.
“No, a glyph. Mayan hieroglyphs.” Roth pulled out his burner phone and brought up one of the images he’d taken from the Dresden Codex. He zoomed in on it and then showed the phone to Brower and Carter. “In Maya mythology, diseases could be inflicted by the gods through their magic.”
Carter looked skeptically at the screen and then back at Roth. “You want us to tell the FBI director to tell the president of the United States that a drawing of a squatting man with a headdress is causing a global pandemic?”