The Aztec Prophecy

EPILOGUE

The Oracle raised his eyes from the bronze sculpture of Atlas on his desk to the raging ocean beyond the circular window that wrapped around his inner sanctum. Nothing but a violent, dangerous sea, wherever he looked. Atlas loved the sea, and so did Tanit, whose marble likeness he now lifted from his desk and cradled in his pale hands.

“If they knew the truth, it would do nothing but frighten them,” he said.

She stared back at him, her smooth marble face as inscrutable as ever.

He ran his finger over her peculiar headdress and down her cheek.

“…terrify them,” he added, his words a clear staccato in the silence of his study.

He knew they had found Mictlan. He had spent years searching for it, and now a common Mexican gangster had the idol… the Sacred of the Sacred and it was in the hands of a violent thug who knew nothing. His thoughts danced from Zaugg to Sheng to Vetrov, and then settled on the traitor Sala. The man who had failed them all.

How he wanted to kill him for his treachery, but the ECHO people had killed him before he had a chance to exact his revenge… but not before Sala had destroyed what was left of Valhalla. He felt like everything he had ever worked for was coming apart at the seams — no — that it was being ripped part by Joe Hawke and his friends. What could they possibly know about the reality of the world? He had carried the burden for so long, and the most sacred treasure would be his, not theirs.

“They’re getting closer, Tanit,” he whispered. “Much too close now. It’s time to end their little quest.”

He couldn’t let anyone destroy his life’s work by uncovering the truth.

A truth that would destroy humanity.

But now it was time to neutralize Sir Richard Eden and the rest of the ECHO team before they unearthed that truth and shone the light of discovery upon it for the entire world to see.

No.

It was time for ECHO to die.