Eagle of the Empire

by Martin Ferguson

  ‘Why did you do it?’ I ask. ‘Put me in the trials, send Dave and Emma out with me and order Abbey to provide support? I turn seventeen years old in two days, no experience of any of this or any historical background. I haven’t even finished college. Why did you show faith in me?’

  He doesn’t reply straight away, the pause too long for my liking.

  ‘I see a lot of your brother in you, Mr Hunter,’ Charles explains. ‘The same fire and intensity, the drive that the Hunter family seems to possess. You proved that in Scotland and in the trials, but there is also something unique about you; it’s not something that can be put into words, but I know it when I see it. I saw it with each of my team. I think with time and focus, you can achieve great things.’

  Saying thank you doesn’t seem enough for such praise. It’s the first time in a long time I have received any praise at all.

  ‘Find the Eagle,’ Charles states. ‘Secure Matthew and Dave’s release.’

  ‘One thing though,’ I say, doubt creeping into my mind. ‘What if the myths and legends are true? What if the standard contains this godly power? We can’t hand that over to known criminals.’

  ‘I am not saying we would,’ Charles replies. ‘Besides, these tales are usually just stories told to entertain children.’

  ‘What if they’re not just stories?’ I ask.

  ‘If that is the case then it is even more imperative you find the Eagle first.’

  ‘Does that mean I have your backing?’

  ‘Unofficially,’ he says, bringing a grin to my face.

  ‘What about you, Abbey?’ I ask.

  ‘I still think you’re crazy,’ she says. ‘But since crazy is generally the norm around here, I’ll give you all the support I can. Let’s bring our friends home.’

  ‘Thank you, both of you.’

  I check the straps of my rucksack and the rest of my equipment, ensuring it’s all secured. Zipping up my jacket and pulling the hood over my head, I take a deep breath, calming my racing heart. I look up and see the moon high above me; it is completely crimson.

  ‘The blood moon,’ I whisper to myself, remembering Makov’s words. With the rise of the blood moon, I will find it.

  ‘You sure you’re ready for this?’ Abbey asks.

  ‘Why postpone what can be done today,’ I reply.

  Standing, I feel the pain has already begun to subside. I walk back to the rear of the roof, preparing myself.

  ‘If this doesn’t pan out how we hope…’ I begin to say into the headset.

  ‘You, Matt, Dave, Em, all of you are going to return home safe,’ Abbey says with certainty.

  ‘Yeah,’ I reply.

  ‘I hear the Pope is a heavy sleeper,’ she says, trying to joke.

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ I simply reply back, ‘because I am about to break into his house.’

  ‘You know this is breaking like a hundred different laws?’

  ‘And we haven’t broken enough already?’ I laugh.

  ‘Sometimes you need to break the law to do the right thing, Mr Hunter,’ Charles adds.

  ‘None of this makes sense,’ I say, more to myself than to Abbey and Charles. ‘Last week I was a bored, fairly rubbish student. My brother was supposed to be at a dead-end job…’

  ‘And now you can make the difference, Hunter,’ Abbey tells me.

  Only the worthy. The words still run through my head.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ she asks one last time.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ I reply, looking over the edge of the roof and then backing up to the far side.

  ‘Dave would’ve had one of Tristram’s gadgets for this,’ Abbey says. ‘Crossing the rooftops, I mean. How are you going to do it?’

  ‘The old fashioned way,’ I reply, forcing a laugh.

  ‘How?’ she asks again.

  ‘Jump!’

  Breaking into a sprint, I leap from the roof of the building towards the pillars of the square. I barely make it, crashing onto the arched roofing atop the pillars, frantically grasping at the tiling until I can pull myself clear of the edge.

  ‘You okay?’ Abbey asks anxiously.

  ‘No worries,’ I say, the pain in my leg flaring from the landing.

  ‘Then get going, Hunter!’ she yells. ‘There are cameras and guards all over the place, including that roof!’

  I force myself up and run as fast as I can, despite my injuries. I see one guard ahead of me, oblivious of my presence as he absentmindedly talks on his radio. I circle around him, keeping clear of his gaze and keeping to the darkness atop the roof before leaping clear and beyond his sight.

  Farther ahead is another guard, more alert than the first and spotting my approach. Drawing his handgun, he yells a warning at me in Italian. Without slowing, I throw a bolas at him, the cord entangling the man before he can reach his radio. I take it and the handgun from him, sending both tumbling from the roof before tying a gag across his mouth. He’ll wake up bruised but he’ll live.

  I hurry, forcing the pain in my body to the back of my mind before emerging onto the roof of St Peter’s Basilica, the dome high above me. I cross the roof, bypassing another guard by leaping atop a barrier and circling around him before jumping clear. He turns, stopping his patrol for a moment and I wait, hidden until he passes. Emerging, I look up and from my vantage point high upon the roof, I can see all of Rome before me. It’s an inspiring sight, and for a moment, I wish I could stop and appreciate it for longer.

  ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’ Abbey asks, mimicking my earlier question.

  ‘Breaking into one of the most highly guarded and holiest sites in the entire world, after already infiltrating the Colosseum of Rome?’ At this moment, I have to agree with her. ‘Yeah, maybe I am,’ I admit, still staring in wonder across all of Rome from atop St Peter’s Basilica.

  ‘The entrance to the catacombs is in the far corner below,’ Abbey tells me over the headset. ‘From what I can tell, the alarm hasn’t been raised yet.’

  ‘It’s just a matter of time,’ I reply, thinking of the guard I left tied up.

  ‘Time is exactly what you do not have, Mr Hunter,’ Charles warns over the headset. ‘Get moving!’

  I drop down from the Basilica’s roof to the next building, rolling as I land and quickly sprint on, wary of the cameras above me. Leaping from level to level and using the window ledges and drainage pipes, I drop further down before reaching the gardens below. I land, unseen by anyone, and rush on towards the gated entrance to the Basilica’s catacombs and tombs below. With my trusty picks, I make quick work of the first and second locks upon the gate, shutting it behind me once I am inside to cover my tracks. I descend down the stone staircase, into utter darkness once again.

  The glasses instantly switch to night-vision and I travel onwards through the tombs, always led by Abbey’s directions. The catacombs go on for miles, far bigger than the Roman tombs in Inchlonaig, and without Abbey’s instructions, I would’ve lost my way dozens of times. There are cobwebs, spiders, and rats throughout, but I ignore them all, always moving onwards, banging into walls and striking my head against low ceilings in my haste.

  I pause only once, when I must cross a narrow bridge across a waterway. My breathing and heartbeat quicken, sweat covering me, the fear and dizziness threatening as I take my first steps towards the bridge.

  ‘Just think of Matt,’ Abbey coaxes me. ‘Think of your brother. Save your brother.’

  Her words help and I focus my eyes upon the far wall, forcing my legs into action until I have crossed the bridge.

  Finally, I reach my aim, another entrance to the catacombs used by tour groups from the museum. Emerging into the darkened halls and corridors of the museum, I see no signs of guards or anyone else.

  ‘There is a security station just at the end of this hallway,’ Abbey tells me. ‘Get access to their system and I can hijack it, shutting down the cameras and alerting you to any approaching guards.’

  ‘Just got to get pas
t the guards at the station,’ I whisper back.

  ‘Well, yes, there is that,’ she replies.

  I pace down the hallway slowly, silently, keeping close to the walls and anything I can use as cover if I am discovered. To my surprise, I find I need not have worried. The station is occupied by only one guard who is slumped across his desk. I assume he is asleep and quietly walk around him, connecting a USB device to the security computer and giving Abbey the access she needs.

  As I wait for Abbey to break through the system’s own security and firewalls, I notice the trickle of blood on the floor beneath where the guard sits. My heart thunders in my chest as I take a step nearer, seeing the man is not moving or breathing. I pull on his shoulder and he slumps back in his chair, eyes fixed in death’s stare. There are two bullet wounds in his chest.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Abbey screams through the headset.

  ‘Makov’s here!’

  ‘It’s not just this guard,’ Abbey says, her voice unusually panicked. ‘I can see it with the cameras. Every guard in the museum is down! Get out of there, Hunter! Get out and away from that place!’

  ‘Abbey, raise the alarm,’ I tell her. ‘Get medical and police services here as soon as you can.’

  ‘They’ll arrest you!’ she protests.

  ‘It’ll be worth it if they are able to save the life of even one of these guards,’ I tell her.

  ‘Fine, but you have to get out of there!’

  ‘You know I can’t do that,’ I tell her, but she still protests, Charles’s voice joining hers until I take off the headset and stuff the glasses into a pocket.

  ‘Alone it is then,’ I whisper.

  Walking on, I pass through storage areas and then on into the main museum, with its vast displays of relics from ancient history. I pass more cameras, but there are no lights or movements signalling activation. The bodies of three more guards lay lifeless and bloody. Without the glasses, I use a torch to guide my way, knowing that any alarms will likely have been deactivated by Abbey or my predecessors.

  I stop still as I hear voices in the distance, voices I know too well. Quickly, I turn off my torch and crouch behind a wall, listening intently.

  ‘They’ve moved the exhibits around,’ Leon’s unmistakeable Australian voice states with annoyance and frustration. ‘No idea where the Pompeii relics are.’

  ‘Then I suggest you keep looking,’ Makov’s voice says with menace. Hearing them makes my blood boil.

  ‘I’ve secured the doors, boss,’ I hear Bishop announce from behind me, walking straight past and thankfully not spotting me in my hiding place. ‘We shouldn’t have any interruptions unless they suspect our presence.’

  ‘With the cameras deactivated and their entire security detail down, that won’t be likely,’ Leon replies.

  ‘Search for the exhibit,’ Makov orders. ‘Bishop, keep our guests company. If they move, kill them.’

  ‘With pleasure,’ the thug replies. The metallic sounds of a gun reloading is unmistakeable.

  The guests might be Matt and Dave, but unarmed, I can do nothing to free them. All I can do is find the Eagle first and negotiate their release. I duck out of sight as footsteps approach, waiting until they pass before emerging from hiding. I must find the Pompeii exhibit first.

  I search, my footsteps silent and with no light from my torch to guide my way. Keeping away from the others, the thieves and captors of my brother, I rush from display to display, checking every glass cabinet for the volcanic debris encasing the ill-fated inhabitants of Rome. From exhibit to exhibit, I search room to room, always mindful of the others, the men who tried to kill me, the men who have tortured Matt.

  I stop once, almost caught as I see a silhouette approach, the black trench coat unmistakeable, as are those haunting, terrible eyes. Makov walks on past me, whistling without concern, casting his gaze about him as if he has all the time in the world. The rage and anger of his beating me burns but I hold still and silent until the right moment, continuing my search.

  It’s in the next room that I see them, barely visible in the darkness, but distinct to all other pieces of history in the museum. There, behind the thick glass, are the figures, encased in hardened ash. Men, women, children, all lost in the face of such utter destruction from the erupting volcano. Some are trying to hide, lying on the ground or huddled together. Others kneel, praying to the gods for a salvation that would never come. Many cling to one another, embracing family and loved ones in their final moments of life. It’s shocking to see such loss and remember that before me is only a small portion of the tragedy. The entire city was lost within a day.

  Suddenly, without warning, I am blinded by the main lights flickering overhead and illuminating the room.

  ‘I had a feeling you would join us, Adam,’ I hear Makov’s voice taunt. ‘I must congratulate you on reaching this far.’

  As my vision slowly returns, I see him approach, a wide smile across his face. Leon is beside him wearing a skull mask and looking to me with maddening glee. In his hands is a large machine gun, the likes of which I have only seen in computer games. It is raised in my direction.

  ‘No escaping a bullet this time, boy,’ the Australian says before Makov places a hand on his firearm, forcing it to lower.

  ‘No, my friend,’ he says. ‘After all the hardships Adam has endured, and all that he has overcome, he deserves to see his brother one last time. Bishop, bring our guests in here!’

  The brute quickly appears, again wearing Matt’s baseball cap, pushing two men with the barrel of his own impressive firearm. There are hoods over their heads and their wrists are bound tight enough to draw blood. As they reach Makov’s side, the captives are forced to their knees.

  ‘Where are we, you cowardly snakes?’ I hear Dave ask shortly before Bishop silences him with a boot to the gut.

  ‘Let us see you reunited with your brother.’

  The hood is removed and I see Matt, his eyes bloodshot and barely able to open, look to me with shock. Bruises cover his pale face. His clothes are torn and bloody. He struggles for breath, pained with each intake of air, ribs likely broken. There is a bandaged wound on his arm, the rags old and marked with the blood seeping through. His blonde hair is matted with more blood and there are wounds at his temple and scalp.

  ‘Adam?’ he asks in pained surprise, but there is no joy in his eyes. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  ‘Trying to rescue you,’ I reply, forcing a smile to lift his spirits.

  ‘And a fine job you are making of this grand rescue,’ Makov taunts. ’I warned you, Adam. I warned you not to interfere.’

  ‘He’s just a kid, you bastard. Leave him alone!’ Dave roars.

  ‘Silence the fool,’ Makov instructs.

  Bishop turns his fists to Dave again.

  ‘You should not have come here, Adam,’ he says as Dave’s beating continues. ‘I gave fair warning. I told you I would burn you. Thanks to your efforts, my wolf has been horrifically scarred.’

  ‘That beast should be put down,’ I reply.

  ‘He has his uses and is ever loyal, something that cannot be said of humans,’ he says as he takes Leon’s handgun from him, raising it towards me.

  ‘At the Colosseum, I told you to stop. There must be punishment for ignoring my warning.’

  He turns on Matt and pulls the trigger, a bullet tearing into my brother’s leg, just above the knee. Matt screams in agony.

  ‘No!’ I yell before Makov turns the gun back on me.

  ‘Do not fret, young Hunter,’ Makov says with contempt. ‘The bullet struck no artery, but Matt will certainly need medical attention soon.’

  ‘Even without the bullet, I think he’d need a hospital soon,’ Leon jokes cruelly. ‘They both will.’

  Dave is on the ground, badly beaten, but he is still breathing as Bishop stands over him.

  ‘It is just you and us my friend,’ Makov says. ‘The Eagle is here somewhere, I am certain, as you must be to have followed us, or is it
just a bold undertaking?’

  ‘Recklessness,’ is my reply. ‘So I keep getting told. That or stupidity.’

  ‘Get out of here, Adam, please,’ Matt pleads, but is silenced as Leon’s fist connects with his face. He spits blood onto the floor and the anger threatens to overwhelm me again.

  ‘You’ve had your moment,’ Makov tells my brother before turning to me. ‘Now, Adam, what is your plan? You must have one, or else why come all this way on your own?’

  I pray that Abbey notified the police when she contacted medical services for the downed security guards. Either way, my only chance is to hold back Makov and his cronies for as long as possible. Stop them from finding the Eagle.

  ‘You’re going to release them,’ I say, pointing to Matt and Dave. ‘Then you are going to leave empty-handed.’

  Leon and Bishop laugh loudly.

  ‘You’ve got some guts, boy, I’ll give you that,’ Bishop says. ‘Boss, why don’t we just put bullets in him and get rid of the other two as well? Why did we even bring them here?’

  ‘It always pays to prepare,’ Makov says. ‘I have learnt over the years that a few hostages can be a very powerful bargaining chip. That, and a blood sacrifice may be required to awaken the power of the Eagle.’

  ‘You will release Matt and Dave and leave this place,’ I declare.

  ‘That is not going to happen,’ Makov merely states. ‘We have come too far to simply leave.’

  ‘Then face me,’ I challenge him. ‘You beat me before and you deemed me not worthy. Give me a chance to prove myself.’

  ‘Why would I do such a thing?’ he asks, but there is intrigue in his voice.

  ‘Because you want to,’ I say, sensing his interest in the challenge.

  ‘As my associate said, you do have guts, my friend,’ Makov says. ‘You have barely recovered from our previous encounter. Are you certain you want to go through it again?

  ‘I will not be beaten so easily,’ I state with confidence, removing my rucksack. My eyes focus briefly on his pendant, hanging from the chain at his neck. I hope you’re right, Abbey. Destroy the pendant, take his power, and then I might stand a chance.

  ‘Let us begin then,’ Makov declares. ‘Leon, Bishop, you are not to interfere. Give Adam the fair chance his courage deserves.’