The plastic packing was open and the severed head was turned so that one eye stared dully out at us. For a moment, I contemplated taking the thing along with us. If the prophecy about the end of the world and the dawning of a new age was true, we’d be doing the world a favor by making sure that the head was somewhere the cultists couldn’t reach it. But with Vargas out of the picture, I didn’t see how the cultists could gain access to it. And if we stuck with the chartered VTOL’s flight plan and flew to Izamal, we’d be carrying the head closer to the itzompan . It seemed more prudent to leave it here. The head might even serve as a distraction that would allow us extra time to escape. Besides, it seemed the respectful thing to do. Let the Jaguar captain be buried in his entirety.