Temple

'Christ,' Nash said. A fully-loaded CH-53E Super Stallion could carry up to 55 fully-armed troops. And they had three of them. So, Romano had brought firepower, too.

'How long did it take us to get here from Cuzco?' Nash asked quickly.

'About two hours and forty minutes,' Copeland said.

Nash looked at his watch.

It was 7:45 pm.

'They'll be quicker in Stallions,' he said, '/f they follow the totems correctly. We have to move fast. I'd say we've got about two hours before they get here.'

The six Green Berets began hauling the Samsonite trunks out of the choppers and onto the main street of Vilcafor.

Nash, Lauren and Copeland started opening them up at once, revealing a cache of high-tech equipment inside— Hexium laptop computers, infra-red telescopic lenses and some very futuristic-looking stainless-steel canisters.

The two academics, Chambers and Lopez, were off in the village proper, eagerly examining the citadel and its surrounding structures.

Race—-now cloaked in a green Army parka to protect him against the rain—went over to help the Green Berets unload the choppers.

He got to the riverbank to find Buzz Cochrane addressing the youngest member of their team, a fresh-faced corporal named Douglas Kennedy. Sergeant Van Lewen and the Green Berets' leader, Captain Scott, were nowhere to be seen.

'I mean, honestly, Doogie, could she be any more out of your league?' Cochrane was saying.

'I don't know about that, Buzz,' one of the other commandos said. 'I reckon he should ask her out.'

'What a great idea,“ Cochrane said, turning to Kennedy.

'Shut up, you guys,' Doug Kennedy said in a broad Southern accent.

'No, seriously, Doogs, why don't you just walk on up to her and ask her out?'

'I said, shut up,' Kennedy said as he heaved a Samsonite container out of one of the Hueys.

Douglas Kennedy was twenty-three, lean, and handsome in a boyish kind of way, with earnest green eyes and fully shaved head. He was also about as green as they came. His nickname 'Doogie' was a reference to the clean-cut and hon est nature of the lead character in the old TV show, Doogie Howser MD, with whom it was said Doogie shared many characteristics. It was also a “clumsy' kind of name, suggesting some sort of innocence, which made it all the more appropriate for Doogie. He was particularly shy—and especially clumsy - when it came to women.

'What's going on?' Race said as he arrived next to them.

Cochrane turned—looked Race up and down instantly— then turned away as he said, “Oh, we just caught Doogie here staring at that pretty young archaeologist over there, and we was just giving him a friendly ribbing.'

Race spun and saw Gaby Lopez, the team's archaeologist, standing over by the citadel with Walter Chambers.

She was certainly very pretty. She had dark hair, a beautiful Latin complexion and a compact curvaceous body. At twenty-seven, so Race had heard, she was the youngest Associate Professor in the Department of Archaeology at Princeton. Gaby Lopez was a very intelligent young woman.

Race shrugged inwardly. Doogie Kennedy could do a lot worse.

Cochrane slapped Doogie heartily hard on the back, spat out a gob of tobacco.

'Don't you worry, son. We'll make a man out of you yet.

I mean, take a look at young Chucky over there,' Cochrane said, indicating the next-youngest member of the unit, a beefy moon-faced 23-year-old corporal named Charles 'Chucky' Wilson. 'Why, only last week Chucky became a fully fledged member of the 80s Club.”

'What's the 80s Club?' Doogie asked, perplexed.

'It's tasty, that's what it is,' Cochrane said, licking his lips.

'Ain't that right, Chucky?'

'Sure is, Buzz.'

'Apples, man,' Cochrane grinned.

'Apples,' Chucky replied, smiling.

As the two soldiers laughed, Race eyed Cochrane cautiously, mindful of what the Green Beret had said on the plane when he had thought Race was out of earshot.

Corporal Buzz Cochrane appeared to be in his late thirties. He had red hair and eyebrows, a thickly creased face and a rough unshaven chin. He was also a big man—bulky across the chest—with thick, powerful arms.

Just from the look of him, Race didn't like him.

There just seemed to be something mean-spirited about him—the not-so-intelligent school bully who by the sheer virtue of his size had had it over the other kids. The kind of brute who had joined the Army because it was a place where people like him thrived. It was no wonder he was almost forty and still a corporal.

'Say, Doogie,' Cochrane said suddenly, 'what do you say I go over there and tell that cute little archaeologist that we got ourselves a dumb young soldier over here who'd like to ask her out for a burger and a movie—'

“No!” Doogie exclaimed, genuinely alarmed.

The other Green Berets burst out laughing.

Doogie went red in the face of their laughter.

'And don't call me dumb,' he muttered. 'I ain't dumb.'

Just then, Van Lewen and Scott returned from the other chopper. The soldiers' laughter stopped immediately.