In the last month, they'd tunneled through enough earth to build a mountain, removing boulders of limestone in steamy tropical heat, poor ventilation, and dim light. After days of frustration, their latest search had now ended over a thick layer of chert, a clear Maya sign of a crypt below. And there, beneath the quartz chips, lay the capstones -- the top of the tomb itself.

Taking opposite sides, Rick and Scott wedged crowbars under the largest slab and pried it off, praying the capstone didn't shatter. There was a poof as centuries-old air escaped -- a good sign this tomb hadn't been violated. A miracle in and of itself. They waited for the stale air to dissipate, mopping sodden handkerchiefs over their faces. Rick twisted his into a band and tied it around his forehead to keep the sweat out of his eyes.

"You want to go first?" He wiped his hands over the seat of his jeans.

Scott slicked back his damp blond hair and reseated his straw hat. Hours in the sun had weathered the corners of his eyes into deep brown crinkles.

"It's your turn to go first." He clapped Rick on the shoulder. "Good luck."

Rick gave a single nod and lay flat on the ground near the opening. After taking a deep breath, he wedged his upper body through the tomb ceiling and fanned a flashlight around the enclosure. His breath caught at the sight.

Against one wall lay the skeletal remains of a long-dead Maya. Pottery surrounding the remains contained remnants of liquids and food. Tiny bone and jade figurines also lay about. On the walls, only a single hieroglyphic painting adorned the tomb.

They'd finally done it. He could hardly believe his eyes, and blinked just to make sure he wasn't imagining it. No doubt about it. This was part of a royal tomb -- the find of a lifetime. Afraid he'd pull out and learn it was all a dream, Rick finally forced himself to crawl away from the passage. Scott's expectant face hovered inches away, blue eyes wide and anxious.

"Well?"

"It's clean." The words came out in whispered, awestruck wonder. Rick cleared the emotion from his throat with a cough and brushed dirt from his denim shirt. "We're the first to see this tomb in fifteen centuries." He slapped the flashlight into his friend's hand.

Without hesitation, Scott ducked into the hole for a look. Minutes later, he pulled out, speechless with wonder. "Ohmygod," finally whispered out.

Rick grinned at the validation of his feelings echoed in his best friend's voice. "I couldn't have said it better myself. I'll start taking pictures. You tell the others."

Still half dazed, Scott stumbled toward camp to spread the news, while Rick busied himself with outside photographs. With each click of the button, he added another item to his mental to-do list. This was a chance of a lifetime -- his and Scott's first truly major find. He'd never forget this moment. Yes, others could do the work, but this was...

He nearly laughed out loud -- this was theirs. The culmination of years of study, hard work, and determination. They'd gone through a lot to get to this point. There were times the dream seemed out of reach -- especially in those years Scott went through the University of San Diego on a full scholarship while Rick did a stint in the Marine Corps to pay for college on a GI bill. But here they were, a true testament to what the words "best friends" meant.

Scott had even stuck by him when Rick came out about being gay. Not too many others had. They were too afraid he'd "get" them. Though some came around, Rick never forgot the slight. He forgave it, but didn't forget.

He glanced up at the sound of stampeding feet. This time he did laugh. Scott led the charge back to the site, while other members of their team ran behind him overladen with a ladder and floodlights.

"Is there anyone left back at camp?" he asked.

"If there is, they won't be there long," Scott replied.

Rick laid the Minolta inside his backpack, zipped it up, and squatted near the opening with him. Taking care to avoid a cave-in, the team pushed the capstones all the way off to widen the entrance, set the floodlights in place, and threaded the ladder through the hole.

"Now, you go first." Rick waved his hand toward the ladder.

Sketchpad and pencil clutched in his grip, Scott didn't hesitate to take the lead. Rick grabbed his backpack and followed on his heels...or rather, his fingers. They descended slowly, in awe of their surroundings. A dry, musky smell surrounded them in the coolness of the tomb, so did the silence. If anyone above them spoke, Rick didn't hear them.

"So much to do and so little time left," Rick muttered as he pulled the camera from his pack and lifted it to his eye. Flash after flash highlighted the magnificence of the interior. He added more items to the growing list of things he wanted to accomplish before the season ran out.

"True, but I doubt either of us will be able to sleep. We can make good use of those hours." Scott was optimistic as always. No one was more upbeat and positive. "Don't forget, we've got the interns arriving soon -- they can do the cataloging. I wish we'd had an opportunity like that when we were starting out. I probably would have shit myself if I'd catalogued a find like this my first trip."

"Me, too." Hell, he was ready to shit himself now with excitement. "I'm really glad we were allowed to do it." The interns were semi-qualified help -- they had the education, now needed the experience -- Rick and Scott sorely needed.

They'd fought a quiet yet steady battle with their university and finally won the approval to hire interns, convincing the board of regents that offering this field adventure would add prestige to the university and possibly increase enrollment. Nothing could be better for their fledgling archaeologists than a little hands-on experience. It had been a satisfactory victory; they'd be arriving in three weeks. Unfortunately, the group was limited to those who could afford to pay for the trip themselves, which was a major selling point with the board of regents. Eventually Rick and Scott hoped the university would be willing to bear the cost for those who showed the greatest potential. With a find like this, they might find backers elsewhere, too.

Rick's media card filled up about the same time as Scott's sketching arm gave out, yet they were both still reluctant to leave. Unfortunately, with the clock ticking, they knew other work needed to start, so they ascended the ladder. The season's end was a scant four months away. Even with interns arriving, Rick and Scott still had a hell of a lot of work to accomplish in too short a period of time.

Rick had stepped from the top rung when Corbett hurried their way. The man looked more like a tourist on vacation than an archaeologist. He wore Bermuda shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and huaraches...always, showing off yellowed feet, cracked and dry, with toenails so thick an arc welder couldn't cut them. The sight grossed Rick out every time.

Corbett lifted a wave Rick's way. "I just got back from a supply run. Brought a visitor for you back with me -- your dad."

What the...

"That can't be good news," Scott muttered.

"I suspect not." Rick dusted his hands on his jeans and pulled the handkerchief off to wipe his sweat away. It didn't help.

"I hope Naomi's all right."

"If she wasn't you'd know. She'd tell you herself." If she could. Now Rick worried.

Scott and Naomi were so much in love it was a wonder they weren't joined at the hip. She'd wanted to come on the dig this year, but obligations at Ramone Import/Exports kept her occupied. That and the fact August Ramone pitched a royal fit over the very idea of his precious granddaughter living in the rain forest for six months. The old man wasn't thrilled Rick was here, but then Rick had also refused to live his life by his grandfather's edicts or with the family money. August had come close to a having coronary when Rick revealed his sexuality, which made everything prior to that announcement pale in comparison. And still the man tried to manipulate Rick to fall in line with his plans -- which had nothing to do with anything other than himself or his company.

"Want me to go with you?" Scott asked.

No telling what had brought his father here, but Rick doubted it was good news. Scott was nearly family. The only person who had trouble accepting that fact -- his grandfather -- wasn't here. And Scott would most probably worry himself sick over why Charles Ramone had come to see Rick. Scott wouldn't be doing anything but pacing while Rick talked to his father.

"Yeah...come on."

They strode across the compound, stopped every so often by someone wanting more scoop on their discovery, only to dash off to see for themselves. The excitement was contagious. Rick couldn't wait to get back to work. With each step dread built. It wasn't good news. Good news would have brought his father right to the tomb they'd just uncovered, wanting to share their joy. But he was sequestered in the tent Rick and Scott shared. Not good.

Rick stopped short when he walked into the tent and saw his father pacing a slow path in the limited space. His heart raced, dreading the words to come. Anxiety rolled off Scott, who stood behind him. His father glanced up. They regarded each other silently for a few seconds. Each was a mirrored reflection of the other; the only exception was a sprinkling of gray in his father's dark brown hair.

"Rick." His father gave him a nod. No hug, no smile, just a nod. "Scott." Another nod to him.

"Dad." Rick stepped all the way in, letting the screened tent flap fall. Scott ducked it and stood beside him.

"Something's wrong," Scott said. "Naomi? Charles...is it Naomi?"

His father looked away. "Let's sit, shall we?" He motioned to the cots, then sat in one of the two canvas camp chairs.

Scott sank onto the cot. Rick eased down beside him and leaned forward, elbows on knees, palms open.

"Just give it to us, Dad. All at once."

His father nodded and let out a breath. "A short time ago, word reached us of a Central American Indian tribe caught in the middle of a drug war. Their village is located on the Honduran-Nicaraguan border -- eastern end. Not far from Puerto Lempira. A dozen people from our company formed a team to go down there. Help them move to a safer area. Offer first aid. Take them food, clothing, and medical supplies. I was against the idea from the start, so was Jay. But..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at them. "Your grandfather thought it was a wonderful idea. Thought it would be good PR for the company. So our people went -- we lost contact with them a week ago. The GPS signal just...died. We understand there's been a lot of fighting in that area and are concerned our people have been hurt." His Adam's apple bobbed with his hard swallow. "Naomi went with them."

Scott muffled whatever curse burst out, but the white-knuckled fist on his thigh told how he felt about the news.

Rick didn't blame him. He could barely breathe, much less think. What the hell was his grandfather thinking? What was Naomi thinking?

"What's being done to find them?" Rick managed to ask, although he had a sneaking suspicion what the answer would be.

"That would be the other reason I'm here," his father replied. "You have military training and have worked this region many times. Who better to go than you? Jay's gathering a dozen more people for a new group. He's even hiring a nurse to accompany them in case he needs the extra medical help. He's taken care of most of the details on our end, but he doesn't know the language or the area the way you do. He doesn't have the skills you do. We need your help."

As if he would hesitate. "I'll leave right away."

His father retrieved a thick brown leather packet from the ground and handed it to him. "Here's a map of the region and money to pay expenses for this expedition. Jay and the others will meet you in La Ceiba day after tomorrow. I'll wait in Tegucigalpa for word."

Rick frowned. "Why there and not La Ceiba?"

"I have other business to take care of there."

Of course, efficient as always. Why not mix in a little business while he waited for someone to save his daughter from this asinine scheme. "I can be ready to leave in under an hour. We'll ride out together."

"You're sure as hell not going without me," Scott told them.

Rick wanted to remind him about the site they'd uncovered, its importance, the fact time was limited. Inconsequential in light of this revelation. Nothing was more important than the one you loved.

"Good." Rick stood. "Let's get packed."

Scott snagged his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "Ready."

If only everything was as simple. Finding Naomi sure as hell wouldn't be. Rick prayed they'd find her alive...and unharmed. Considering the unrest in this part of the world, he knew he was asking for a miracle.