We followed Águila through two more rooms and into a third. Half a dozen rebels whom we had not yet met stared at us as we went by, interrupting their avid post-game analysis of the ollamaliztli game to mutter behind their hands about us. I was starting to get nervous. I thought we’d proven ourselves to be friendly, back at the checkpoint. But it was clear that, should they change their minds again and decide that we were spies after all, we would not walk out of this bunker alive.