She stood, and suddenly felt for her flashlight; it was still in her pocket. She then, quickly felt for the relic and felt the sharp edges of the Avatar's wings. Her mind was full of questions but at the moment, the biggest one she had was whether she had hallucinated what she had seen just before she had passed out.

As she pulled out her flashlight, she began to explore her options. She could see the ribbon pattern of terra cotta; white, blues, and purple deposits of mineral stains against the cavern walls and at any other time would be enthralled at the beauty of it all. But she must have been carried down here and someone must have shot her with something…but why? She crept around the sidewalls close to the western side of the great room as she was beginning to call it and flashed her light to see where a long, darkened area led. Walking closer, she realized that it was a tunnel and she could feel the breeze of cool air. Taking a deep breath, she started to proceed into it but it grew colder and she started to shake with a wet chill as the tunnel began to get smaller and smaller. She started to crouch to keep from hitting her head and then stopped suddenly; "Oh God!" she said as her voice resounded in echo. Around her, on both sides were ledges with bodies, skeletal remains of what looked like Indians in decayed dress and headdress. Across their chest area, with bony arms folded across one another were the golden relics, similar to the one she had taken from the King's tomb. As she looked closer at the headdress, she could see what appeared to be a bird's beak over what would have been the wearer's nose and the plumage would have draped over the head. She could still make out the quills and strands of colorful plumage that had been attached.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into now?" she said, pulling away and not touching a thing.

"What the hell, indeed!" said a voice, strangely accented in English, from behind her. She whipped around, flashing the light into the face of the voice. It was the Indian from the tomb, his eyes flashing at her; the tattoos in a deep blue patterning over his face reminded her of riveting design work. He held, not a menacing expression on his face but a quizzical one, almost as if amused.

***************************************************************

Rollie and Angie stood looking at Michael Sanchez who was in a state of extreme agitation. He paced in front of them back and forth, as Angie still held the note from Lucinda in her hand.

"Does she realized what the hell she had done?" he yelled out, his hands in the air, gesturing to them.

"Uh- Michael, give us a hint there, mate," Rollie answered, folding his arms across his chest, "because I don't get it. Why be so upset about her taking it back, if that is what she did. After all, these antiquities belong to Costa Rica, right?"

He looked at Rollie, stopping his pace in mid-step and smoothed back his hair on top of his head; "I am concerned about her safety…" he said, in a curious change of voice but Rollie wasn't buying it.

"Give it a rest, Michael. You want the relic for yourself. The money, isn't that it? Gonna buy your way out of what? What did you do? I guess that the money from this might smooth over whatever you did so long ago that got you into all this deep cover stuff?"

Michael's eyes seemed to grow cold and black as he stared at Rollie. He looked at Angie's clear, blue eyes, seeing the distrust and the anger. He could also see the other eyes, the dancing, warm brown eyes that he loved so much staring at him- Mira's, and he was reminded again why he was doing what he was doing; "We need to get her out of there. If she has gone back to the Tomb, she could have been taken again by the smugglers. Without Roddy now, I don't know what has happened."

Angie and Rollie both shook their heads. He had changed the subject and brought them right back to Lucinda.

"I don't know about you, Michael- but Angie and I are going out to find her. We don't need you to help us. The local police can do that for us as well…" Rollie told him, bitterly as he grabbed his jacket and Angie went for hers as well.

"Wait!" he said, his voice sounding almost panicked as they both stopped and looked at him, impatiently.

"Don't call the police. Yes, I need the money from that relic…" he blurted out, "yes, it will buy me my freedom. You cannot began to understand where I am coming from but let me tell you- you would do the same."

Angie looked at his face, the healing wounds and swelling had taken their toll as he waited for their response. He would carry those scars on the outside for life. What scars he had inside were deep and she suddenly felt that only after she accepted him, would Rollie.

"Michael, you're being used everyday by someone that you hate, obviously. I don't know if they are good or evil. Perhaps they are both. You are protecting her, aren't you?" Angie asked him, standing up to him as she looked up at him, his towering frame not overwhelming her as he suddenly sat down, his shoulder's slackened, his head dropping.

Rollie looked at them, seeing his Angie show compassion for Michael Sanchez, this man that had used Lucinda for his own gain and then tossed her aside, this man who had people killed for his own benefit. He watched as Angie's hand touched Michael's shoulder and the man took a deep breath in and then let it out slowly. Angie touched his face and he flinched slightly and she took his hand, at first reflexive pushing away but then held it.

"I have been protecting her since I got pulled into all of this. She doesn't even know. And you can't tell her…they are everywhere, Angie. I did something so stupid, out of anger five years ago. I have been paying everyday since. The only thing that will get me out of this is the money. There is no organization, no police, no force that can free me from them."

"How can money help you?" Rollie broke in as he stood looking at the both of them, his voice suddenly cracking as he realized that Angie had succeeded in getting a part of Michael out, that had been buried deep inside him.

Michael let go of Angie's hand and she sat down beside her, Michael feeling her nearness and strangely, her support. He could see why Rollie loved her so much, as he had felt her connection. It had been strange, without any physical barriers.

"I can get a new life, new identity, new face. I can once, and for all, get rid of all the alias and start again. If Michael Sanchez dies, then the threat against Mira goes as well. I can never be with her again, but I can free her and not have to worry about this threat over our heads," Michael responded, uncharacteristically open, at wits end.

"These people you work for, they are that dangerous and that maniacal?" Rollie asked.

"Hey, they are the government, or actually, the exo-government…the part you never see," he replied, shaking his head.

"I'm breaking our promise," Angie said to Rollie then, smiling as he understood. Michael looked at them both;

"What promise?"

"Oh, never mind. Come on, let's go find Luce. You do what you want with the relic. I just want Luce safe and sound!" Angie said, standing up.

Rollie looked down at Michael, "well, just going to sit there and mope? We have to get Luce!"

Rollie walked out the door, the late night air, muggy and the fog rolling in, thickly. Michael followed, with Angie stopping to lock the door. As she turned to followed them down the path, she bumped into Michael who had waited for her.

"Angie, I am sorry- I really am sorry about the things I've said-" he began, but she made a shushing noise with her finger to her lips, shaking her head. He looked so vulnerable, not the dark, omnipotent Michael Sanchez and she suddenly hugged him, not really knowing why, just that he needed one.

She felt him wrap his arms around her, engulfing her tightly, trying not to literally pull her off her feet.

"Hey, that's my wife you're toying with," called up Rollie on the lower path, turning back to see them.

Michael, amused, let her go; Angie turned to look down at Rollie, "yeah, yeah- let's go!"

She joined him then, Rollie pretending to be slightly jealous as Angie suddenly felt great, like a giant burden had been lifted on their relationship with Michael. The three of them went into the lobby, checking out Lucinda's last actions there. She had rented a jeep so they got one themselves and headed out to the Tomb.

*********************************************************

"You speak English?" Lucinda suddenly found her voice, putting her hand to her chest.

"Why, yes and about ten other languages. I went to Harvard, actually- graduated with an MBA," the Indian told her, smiling.

"Oh! Well, silly me! I guess I was typecasting you, huh?" she said, hearing herself sound goofy and laughing excessively.

"Not a problem…really," he replied, but then frowned slightly, "mind if we walk back into the main room?" and he put his arm out, having her take the lead back.

Lucinda was beside herself. What kind of a world had she entered? The rain forest Indians held Masters in Business Administration degrees and were dressing in ancient costumes, doing what?

Once back into the main cavern, she saw other Indians. They were all dressed accordingly. Some smiled at her and some just stared with blank, stoic expressions on their faces.

"Don't mind the old ones…they still believe in cutting your head off. But thank goodness, the younger members of the tribe are more civil. We don't shrink your head or anything…that's passe' ," the Harvard MBA said, tongue-in-cheek.

"So what gives? What did you guys do to me?" she asked, touching her neck.

"Oh, that? Well, we gave you a little sleepy time dart, a little herbal draft, you know. Couldn't have you screaming and all, what with the archeologists so close to the Tomb site. Besides, you surprised me! I was still performing the Adjuante on Bosaque's remains."

"The what?" Lucinda asked, confused.

"Adjuante-the cleansing, I was trying to keep the evil was spreading!" the highly educated Indian told her matter-of-factly.

"Okay, you lost me here. What evil?" Lucinda asked, throwing her hands up in the air, shaking her head.

Several members of the tribe whispered something in his ear then, as he laughed suddenly.

"They say you have the weguana," he told her, "that's the witch's power."

"Well, I have been called a lot worse," she replied, "but you didn't answer my question. What evil?"

"Oh, you took the Mizo from Balsaque's hands. When you did that, you released his demon spirit back into this world. For centuries, the world has been protected from Balsaque's evil- that is, until you released it. The Mizo was forced into his hands while he was buried alive about 300 B.C. It was placed to contain him. It worked too, until well- the archeological digs and then you."

Lucinda eyes widened as she pulled out the object he had called the "Mizo". She stared down at it as the cavern full of Indians made a hushed sound.

"Here," she said trying to hand it to him but he put his hands up, shaking his head, seriously upset.

"No! I cannot touch it! You must do it! Only the one that has removed it can replace it."

"This would be to bottle up his evil again, right?" Lucinda said, making a silly face, not believing a word of his explanation. She recognized him now, as she touched his arm over the tattooing and the blue dye rubbed off on her fingers.

"You're that guide! The one that threw me into the tomb on the day you brought me and my hus…"

"I am Juan Tocha and yes- I did have a little row with your man, but only because he had been here before. He and the other man, that muscle man actor, they had been down in the tomb city, stealing our relics. They should never have been touched."

"Roddy? Hmmm, something is starting to make sense, now," Lucinda said.

"Actually, you were pushed into the tomb to get you out of the way, I have seen all of your pictures, Ms. Scott!" he said, admiringly.

"Get out of here!" she said, pushing him slightly on his arm.

"Truth!" he replied, grinning. "But the man who was with you, he is not what he seems. They are working with the drug smugglers and relics' dealers. We have been fighting our own war down here. Little by little, we are winning."

"He is a spy, you hear. All of them and this crazy place!" she said, holding her arms out, "are you going to keep me down here forever?"

"I loved to, but no!" he said, making a face, "Don't worry, I'm not like Kathy Bates- uh- 'I'm you're greatest fan!' ."

Lucinda laughed as some of the Indians, seeing her expose her white teeth mimicked her. She smiled and turned around to him in a whisper;

"I take it, not everyone went to Harvard here?"

"No, just me. The rest of them are hard core Nicoya. They did only stop shrinking heads about eighty years ago…" he replied, grinning.

"Oh…"

"Now, we would really like to have you put that Mizo back into Balsaque's hands," he told her, serious now.

"No problem," she replied, "I was just going to do that when you shot that dart at me. I figured that it belonged back where I found it!"

"Well, we have a problem there," Juan replied, sheepishly.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Seems that the archeologist pulled him out of the Tomb this afternoon. He's above ground, in one of their tents! I am afraid, this has unsettled my people greatly. They have been acting rashly, uncontrolled until your arrival. You can make this all stop."

"Oh! What do you want me to do?"

"Get him back, of course."

"Hmmm, steal him away, is that it?"

"Yes."

"Oh God, now I need Rollie Tyler!" she said, with a moan.

"Whose he?"

"A friend who could pull the wool over your eyes, he'd be great helping us."

"Is he the movie man with the blonde woman?"

"Well, yes…"

"Nope, doesn't look good there- I think Nanita and Ramon poisoned them along with the dark one and the other, you called him Roddy."

"WHAT?"

"I told you, my people have been getting a little rash, uncontrolled. They have modern ways to deal with these little problems. That woman was killed because she impersonated you and wouldn't give us the Mizo back as well."

"Oh my!" Lucinda exclaimed, looking at the tribe's faces, they were looking back at her with stern, almost angry eyes.

"And what's to keep them from killing me?" she asked, nervously.

"I told you, you have the weguana. They respect you. You have brought the Mizo back."

"Oh Angie! Rollie! What have I done?" Lucinda cried out, tears starting to release as the tribe of Indians pressed forward against her.