Five men made it out of the temple alive. With shots still ringing out, the two remaining bodyguards helped Caesar into the helicopter, then Galton and El Capitán climbed aboard. El Capitán sat up front with Fiero, the others crouched in the overcrowded space behind them.

“Are you ready to fly?” Fiero yelled above the noise of the chopper. Galton gave a thumbs up, and the helicopter lifted off and banked south.

They were aboard a Lightstorm NM-16, an experimental helicopter that Fiero was having trouble handling. Its maximum capacity was supposed to be five, but its performance was sluggish, and it would never reach full speed. Bullets ripped through the air, ricocheting off the chopper as they made their ascent out of the ravine.

Caesar looked down at the temple grounds and saw Moncada scoop up a handful of soil and rub it into his broken arm. He watched as Moncada snapped the bone back in place and shook off the dirt. The other half of the artifact had given Moncada the power of the earth element. Moncada stood up and looked at the helicopter, making eye contact with Caesar. He raised both hands in the air, and Caesar could hear Moncada’s voice in his head asking, “Where do you think you are going?”

Moncada knelt down and plunged both hands into the earth, up to his elbows. He swung his hands upward, and a thick line of dirt flew up into the sky and continued in a direct path toward the chopper. The trail of dust grew longer and wider, and a large crater began to form in front of Moncada as more earth streamed into the sky.

“Fiero, get us out of here!” Caesar shouted.

“I’m trying!” Fiero shouted back. “Come on, come on,” Fiero commanded as he tried to coax more speed out of the balky machine.

The men held on as the helicopter plunged and rose in a series of arcs, like an airborne rollercoaster ride. El Capitán’s eyes widened when he saw the billow of brown dirt streaming toward them. “El Diablo!” he shouted, and pointed at it. His men screamed when they saw the giant funnel of dust that was about to engulf them. The mouth of the cone widened as it advanced, then enveloped them. Flying blind, Fiero veered left then right in a vain attempt to clear the great cloud.

Dust penetrated the cockpit, and the men began to choke. The engine sputtered.

“We’re going down!” Fiero yelled over his shoulder.

“Keep it straight!” Galton yelled back. “There’s a waterfall up ahead. Get as close as you can.”

“Try my best,” Fiero replied.

The helicopter slanted down, despite Fiero’s efforts to keep it level. The sound of rushing water filled the air, and the waterfall came into view as they broke free of the dust cloud. They cleared the falls, and the engine sputtered again. The chopper went into a spiraling nosedive, plunging fifty feet before Fiero managed to level off by flying into the wind. The machine was in line with the horizon again, and they could see the edge of a road that cut a path into the forest.

“Hang on!” Fiero yelled, as he steered the chopper toward the brush at the edge of the road.

“Brace for impact!” Galton yelled, then looked at Caesar. He was unconscious.

Fiero brought the chopper down slow, but the skids scraped hard against the ground as they touched down. The machine slid and spun before finally jumping the road. It came to rest in a stand of thick shrubs at the base of an enormous Ceiba tree.

The men jumped out and ran up the empty road as flames shot from the engine. One of the bodyguards carried Caesar over his shoulder. Fifty yards from the crash site, everyone looked back. Sparks were flying, and the engine compartment lay completely exposed. The helicopter exploded, throwing the men to the ground. The shrubs caught fire, which quickly spread to the surrounding undergrowth. A thick cloud of smoke rose into the air.

Caesar woke up to see the chopper ablaze. He jumped to his feet, turned toward the fire, and stared at it. The fire subsided as rapidly as it had begun. The men were dumbfounded. But the smoke still rising into the sky would be like waving a flag to Moncada.

“Come on, boys,” Galton said, as he began striding up the road. “We got a long walk ahead. Campsite’s a few miles from here.”

Fiero and Caesar caught up to Galton. “You okay, kid?” Galton asked Caesar.

“Actually I feel stronger than I ever have before. Right now, I feel the air coursing through me, strengthening me. It’s bizarre.”

“You at one with the elements now, that it?” Galton asked. “That why that fire went out back there without you lifting a finger?”

“I just told it to go away,” Caesar said.

“And so it did,” Galton said.

Caesar looked at Fiero. “I’ve a question, Fiero.”

“Hit me, amigo.”

“How did you find us? And where did you get the chopper? How did you even know to come looking for us? I thought you were stateside.”

“That’s a lot of questions, amigo.” Fiero jabbed a thumb toward Galton. “Better ask mi jefe. He’ll give it to you better’n me, amigo.”

“I’ve been in contact with Fiero since we flew out of LAX,” Galton said. “Kept him apprised of our movements. I had him fly out the day before we set out for the temple. That’s just after they poisoned you. Anyways, Fiero had orders to pick us up once we got to the temple. Whether we got inside or managed to grab the artifact or not didn’t matter. I just wanted a safe getaway car with a driver I could rely on. Don’t trust nobody as much as him.”

“What about the chopper?”

“I know a fella owns his own private airstrip, a small one just outside Lima.” Galton turned toward Fiero. “And why in blazes did you rent that worthless eyesore? That thing couldn’t stay in the air if it had stilts.”

“Was only thing he had, jefe,” Fiero said. “And you didn’t rent it, jefe. You bought it. Only way I could have it modified with those weapons. Lo siento.”

“You’re sorry all right,” Galton said. “Won’t argue with you there.”

“That still doesn’t explain how he found us,” Caesar said.

Galton patted his thigh as he walked. “Keep a trackin’ chip right here. Decided to do it a while back, ’cause adventures like this one call for it. And Fiero and I have been on quite a few now.” He looked at Fiero again. “What do you reckon? Ten? Twelve?”

Fiero shrugged. “Who’s counting?”

They walked and talked for the rest of the hike, with Galton and Fiero recounting their past travels and treasure hunts. When they got to the camp, Galton roused El Capitán’s men, his voice booming throughout the camp as he barked instructions. “We have to leave now! They know where we are, and I don’t think they plan on us leavin’ here alive. Pack up your essentials, just the bare bones, load ’em up and let’s hightail it outta here.” Galton repeated the instructions in Spanish.

Half an hour later they were headed out. Galton and Caesar shared a ride in the backseat of a small open-topped jeep. Fiero rode with El Capitán at the front of the procession. As they drove along the rough, narrow roads, Galton pointed to Caesar’s entry wound, where the bullet had torn a hole through shirt and flesh alike. “That sting any?”

Caesar looked down at his abdomen. “Not really. I feel a funny sensation there, though. Only bled a little too, and I didn’t even feel it at first. Had no idea I’d been hit.”

Caesar remembered Moncada and how he had healed his arm with earth, one of the elements he controlled. Then he recalled the words of the old man: These elements will also serve as your method of healing. After removing his shirt, he extracted the lighter from his pocket, flicked it, and held the flame against his abdomen. Seconds later, a bullet slid out of the wound into his open palm. He bent his head down and gently blew air at the wound.

Galton watched in amazement as the hole closed up. He was used to the weird and bizarre by now, but this stunt sent a chill down his spine. Was this still Caesar?

“Why did you give Moncada the artifact?” he asked at length.

“I understand things now, Lionel. That object you call the artifact is nothing now, just a useless museum item for display. We are the artifact.”

Galton furrowed his brow. “ ‘We?’ Quit talking in riddles, Caesar.”

“Lionel, I know this is going to sound nuts, but you have to trust me. The energy of the sun that’s collected by the temple, it’s like pure knowledge. I see glimpses of it at times, things I couldn’t imagine if I tried. It’s impossible to describe it. All that energy—or knowledge— passed into me when I touched the artifact. This energy, this knowledge, gives the possessor control of the elements. But in this case, that control is split between Moncada and me. He controls two of the elements, earth and water, and I control wind and fire.”

“So, why’d you give it to him?” Galton asked again.

“I was told to,” Caesar said. “Lionel, you have to believe in me. The path is clear now. I know what I have to do.”

Galton looked away, focusing his attention on the endless row of trees that drifted by. This wasn’t the Caesar he knew.

Caesar said, “Now that we’ve regrouped, I plan on gaining control of the other two elements.”

Moncada and his men raced toward the billowing smoke that rose above the dense canopy of trees. Since being imbued with elemental power, Moncada had become obsessed with a quest for more. He craved Caesar’s half of the power and longed to see him dead. He ordered the few men that remained from his crew to focus their efforts on the hunt. Caesar was the top priority. As they wound their way along the twisted path, Moncada experienced a flash from Caesar’s mind. He could see Caesar and Galton and their entire camp moving out. When he returned to a conscious state, he turned to his driver and said, “Stop the chase.” As the vehicle slowed, he stood up inside the open vehicle and turned to face the jeeps that followed. He waved his hands in the air and the vehicles came to a stop.

Moncada’s lead officer exited a jeep and approached him on foot. “Sir, why have we stopped?”

“I am calling off the chase,” Moncada said, as he turned to look at the winding road that disappeared into the jungle. “He will come to us.”

“What is our agenda, sir?”

Moncada looked at the officer. “Order the men to turn around. I am going to pay Dr. Randall a visit.”

“I don’t like where this is going, Caesar,” Galton said. “This isn’t how it was supposed to play out. We came here specifically for the artifact. We didn’t go traipsing through the jungle to bump into ghost guides with wild notions about the future and fulfilling some destiny and other bunk. We came here for a treasure, and we had our hands on it. You did, anyway. But ever since then, you’ve changed, Caesar. Everything’s changed. I don’t like it.”

“I can explain,” Caesar said.

Galton raised a hand to stop him. “Hear me out, son.” Galton looked Caesar directly in the eye as he spoke. “Let me have the floor this once. You’ve been like a son to me all these years, and I don’t say that lightly. I’ve invested a great deal of time and emotion in you. It’s to a point where you’re practically part of me. But I have to tell you, the Caesar I know and love is slipping away. You used to be an archaeologist, and a fine one at that. You lived and breathed science. But ever since we got to that fool temple, you been talking a lot of gobbledygook that I have to tell you is just plain….” Galton broke off, unable to say the word.

Caesar said it for him, smiling. “Crazy?”

Galton didn’t smile back. “This is serious business, boy. We’re not out here playing war games with cadets. Moncada plans on sending us home in pine boxes. I’m apt to think he can do it too.”

Caesar leaned back in his seat, and his eyes glazed over as he stared into the distance.

Galton noticed. “You okay?”

Caesar snapped out of it and pressed his fingers against his eyes until he saw dazzling flickers of light behind his eyelids. It reminded him of the blue bursts in the temple. Without opening his eyes he said, “Tell the driver to stop.”

“You nuts, boy? Ain’t you heard a word I’ve said? Moncada will catch us for sure if we don’t keep spinning rubber.”

“You don’t have to worry about Moncada,” Caesar said. “He’s given up the chase.”

“What? How can you know that?”

“We’ve got a direct line into each other’s minds, and when we’re in close range, I can hear his thoughts.”

“You’re linked?” Galton asked.

“When he touched the other half of the artifact, he absorbed its essence. We are both the artifact now. Literally two sides of the same coin. But not for long. I intend to grab every ounce of power he holds.”

“You really are jacked up, Caesar. All this talk about power and essences. I don’t reckon I can take much more of it.”

Caesar gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re full of doubt, Lionel. You don’t believe in me.”

Galton chuckled and aimed a hand at Caesar. “Well there it is, folks. The Messiah walks the earth again. What, I’m supposed to believe in you now? This is what I’m talking about. Power’s going straight to that thick skull of yours. You’re hopped up on it.”

Caesar shook his head. “No, I am not the great Hispanic hope come to save the world. That’s someone else’s job as far as I know. I’m a mere middleman. At least that’s what I gather from what the old man told me.”

“The world doesn’t need saving, son. Granted it ain’t perfect, but it’s been around a pretty long time, and I reckon it’ll be here a lot longer. Those little premonitions and fancies of yours are wild notions as far as I’m concerned. Sure, some of them happened to come true, but we all know this is a pretty tough existence. Folks go around killing other folks all the time. Disasters happen. Planes crash. I grant you all that, Caesar, but the world don’t need saving. It just needs cleaning up is all. What you need to do is get back to your good senses. Live your life, son. Let’s leave here and never look back. Forget Moncada and the artifact and the rest of it. I’ll head out with you. I’m ready to walk away. I’ll do anything to get you to come back to your old self, Caesar. Anything.”

Caesar gave a heavy sigh. “If you didn’t believe in all this hogwash, then why did you even drag me back into this world? I told you about the myths and legends that surrounded the temple and the artifact, and you knew a great deal before I told you anything. So don’t tell me you didn’t see these so-called crazy things coming.”

Galton frowned. “Son, you know I’d do anything for you. I love you, always have, always will, regardless of Annie, or your guilt over Grace. All I wanted was for you to find yourself again. I promised your dad I’d watch out for you, and I feel like I’ve failed you all these years. I thought that giving you the chance to stake a claim to what you knew existed would be your chance to become the man you once were. I had no idea we’d end up in a firefight with some crazed Peruvian warlord and watch folks being burned alive before our eyes. Not to mention the wilder things we’ve seen down here.”

“So, this was never about you believing in the tales and protecting the world?”

Galton sighed, and looked away before saying, “Caesar, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings. But glowing temples are one thing. A human controlling wind and fire and becoming a fountain of knowledge in an instant is quite another. Sure, I see you’ve got that old glimmer in your eye, but I thought it was the thrill of the adventure.”

Caesar told the driver to stop. When he ignored him, Caesar leapt into the air, ejecting himself from the moving vehicle. Galton swung his head around and watched as Caesar flipped twice before landing perfectly on his feet. Galton ordered the driver to stop, then stepped out of the jeep and walked toward Caesar.

“I’m going to make you a believer, Lionel,” Caesar said, as his father-in-law approached. He lifted his hands. Wind suddenly whipped up, and streams of air shot from his palms. It pushed Galton back against the jeep, where he was pinned for a few seconds before Caesar broke it off.

Caesar lowered his hands and took note of all the eyes that stared at him from the parked vehicles that lined the road.

Galton leaned over to catch his breath as Caesar approached. He raised a hand at Caesar without looking up and said, “Don’t do that again, boy. Or on my life I’ll tan your grown hide.”

“Everything we’ve done up to now has been for this, Lionel,” Caesar said. “Don’t you see that?”

Galton stood straight and stared Caesar in the eye. “I’m starting to.”

“The visions I’ve had, the waking dreams, the quest to find the temple and the artifact—it was supposed to happen this way. There’s no turning back now, Lionel. The old Caesar is dead. A new Caesar was born in the temple. I’m meant to do something special— something of vast importance—and I aim to see it through. But I’ve only come this far because of you, Lionel.”

Galton watched him in silence, his lips quivering slightly.

“I’d love it if you’d go the distance with me,” Caesar said. “But as to forgetting Moncada, that can’t happen. We have unfinished business. I have to reunite the artifact, and the only way I can do that is to perform a sacrifice.”

“Killing Moncada,” Galton said.

Caesar nodded.

Galton touched Caesar’s shoulder. “That ain’t gonna be no walk in the park, son. He’s drunk on power now, and he’s right dangerous.”

Caesar opened his mouth to speak, but Galton continued.

“Now I know you’ve changed during this trip. I was there in your apartment. I saw how you were living. I’ve been watching closely ever since we set foot on the temple grounds, and you practically came alive. Never seen you so focused, so driven. I like it, to tell the truth. And I know that touching that artifact brought out something different in you. It filled you with something too, besides healing your leg, though I can’t understand half of it, or most of what you say at times. But none of that matters to me. All I know is that I love you, son. And not like a son.” He squeezed Caesar’s shoulder. “You are my son, ya hear?”

Caesar smiled.

“I’d follow you to the gates of perdition, only because it’d mean I’d have you close to me.” He took his hand away from Caesar’s shoulder now. “So, what’s the plan?”

Caesar smiled at his father-in-law. “I know where he’s heading. And he knows I’ll follow him. Since we’re linked now, we know each other’s next move. We’ve got to get to the Derrota military base in Huanuco as soon as possible. Dr. Randall’s life depends on it.”

“So it begins,” Galton said. “He’s grabbing for power. With Randall out of the way, he’ll be the de facto head of all operations, military or otherwise. Government will defer to him. What am I saying? He’ll probably overthrow that next.”

Caesar watched as Galton climbed back into the jeep.

“Well come on, son. If I’m gonna die, it might as well be with you. But I have to tell you, Dr. Randall ain’t one that’s gonna be missed, so if you want to take your time getting there, it won’t hurt my feelings none.”

Moncada arrived at the Derrota military base early the next morning. He knew Dr. Randall would be impatient. He made his way through a neat row of military jeeps and headed for the third building on the base. As he walked by, various military personnel in stiff, clean uniforms stood to attention and saluted. He ignored them all and slipped through the back entrance.

When he walked into the large corner office, Dr. Randall was sitting at his desk examining one of his priceless relics from around the world. Not only was Huanuco home to the Upper Huallaga Valley, Peru’s top coca growing region, it was also the home of stolen history. Stolen artifacts lined the walls, shelves, and windowsills of the large office. The theft of the priceless objects had been orchestrated and controlled by Dr. Bertram Randall for decades and carried out by his right-hand man, Moncada, all under the nose of the Peruvian government, which unwittingly footed the bills.

Randall had made Moncada a very rich man, but Moncada was through playing Randall’s lapdog, as Lionel Galton had put it. With his newfound power, he had decided it was time to seize the whole enchilada.

“It’s about time, ’Cada,” Dr. Randall said, wheeling around in his chair with a lit magnifying visor still strapped to this head.

Moncada always took Dr. Randall’s nickname for him as an insult. Randall had a habit of shortening the names of people he considered beneath him. The only reason Moncada had put up with the little weasel so long was because Randall had access to what he wanted. Money was no longer important to him—he now wanted what money had formerly represented—power.

“What’s with your eye? Where is your patch? Where’s the artifact?” Randall demanded in a flurry of questions.

Without a word, Moncada tossed a folded burlap sack through the air in Randall’s direction. The doctor gasped and sprang to his feet to catch the valuable item.

Dr. Randall missed the artifact, and it landed with a muffled clang in the corner of the room. “Are you out of your mind?”

Moncada still said nothing.

Dr. Randall quickly unwrapped the burlap sack and looked up at Moncada with an angry expression when he found the broken disc. “What happened to it? It’s ruined!”

Moncada towered over Randall, muscles bulging through his fatigues as he replied: “The archeologist, Caesar Guevara, retains the missing half.”

Dr. Randall set the object down and took his seat. He began to scold Moncada like a child, leveling insults and threats. As the bitter words flew, the veins in Moncada’s neck began to pulsate and he could hear his own heart pounding as his rage grew. He had taken too much verbal abuse for too many years, all the while following the selfish doctor’s commands and covering for his mistakes.

The power was flowing through his veins now. Moncada felt it surging, begging to be released. He clenched his fists as a sinister smile played across his lips. Suddenly he moved, faster than a striking snake, and his hand was around Randall’s throat. He lifted him above the desk with one hand. Dr. Randall tried to cry for help, but Moncada’s grip tightened around his throat and choked off his scream. His eyes bulged as Moncada dragged him across the desk and out the door. Randall scratched and clawed at the muscled arm, to no avail. When they stepped into the open air, Moncada ignored the glances of all who saw, military or otherwise, and they quickly glanced away. Moncada’s reputation as a merciless killer ensured that no one would interfere.

“Let’s find a nice patch of ground,” Moncada said, laughing out loud. Randall’s face was starting to turn blue. A few yards from the building the pavement ended and Moncada slammed the doctor down on his back in the shade of a fruit tree. Conscious but unable to move, the doctor watched in horror as Moncada’s eyes faded to pure white. The ground around Randall began to spin in a vortex, and a hole opened in the earth. Randall struggled and tried to gain his feet, but the earth swallowed him. A crowd gathered, and they watched Moncada kneel beneath the tree, and bury his arm in earth up to his bicep. He pulled his arm free and stood up. Women crossed themselves and scattered, soldiers stared in horror and awe at the spot where Randall had disappeared.

Moncada looked at them. “If no one wishes to be next, you will do exactly as I command.”