As he learned how to ride over the winter, I’d had a hard time imagining the scrappy Italian from one of the seediest areas of New York ever riding a horse, and he proved my point by doing so like a drunken sailor. We had all gotten a good laugh out of it, and Helena, easily the most graceful of us all on a horse, took great pleasure in watching him fall time and time again.
As for Helena, I tried not to think about her, but my thoughts often drifted towards our last night together. When I tried to reconcile with her before I left, the only response I’d gotten was a sad and scared look from eyes that were bloodshot and puffy. She looked as though she hadn’t slept all night, and had spent most of it crying. I couldn’t stop thinking about that morning and how she looked. I didn’t understand the tears at first, but I now realize she had to have been crying for me. Crying that I had become some kind of monster or that she somehow knew I was going to die in a place where she couldn’t help me.
The thoughts plagued me, but at least I had Santino for company. We’d made good time on our first day, and I calculated we’d be in Rome within a few days. I had spent that time worried Agrippina might try something on me again, but I was happy to discover she had turned her attention elsewhere.
During our first night, she and Santino chatted quietly with one another as we sat in our rented rooms. People would be surprised to learn that Roman highways functioned much like modern day interstates, complete with Holiday Inn type establishments dotted along roadway sporadically, just without the turn down service and free continental breakfast. Our rooms were acceptable, and while the three of us were hanging out in Agrippina’s room currently, we’d booked a second one for the boys. I sat aloof from them both, near the window, and cringed every time I heard giggles emanate from the treacherous woman as they joked and laughed freely. I was surprised that when I ordered lights out, Santino hadn’t stayed the night. After we packed up the next morning, and continued our journey, I asked him why he hadn’t.
“Big boobs, a firm ass, perfect skin, and a beautiful smile aren’t everything I look for in a woman, you know,” he answered.
I snorted. “Bullshit. What’s the deal? She seemed willing and able, and if not willing, at least she wouldn’t have said no.” I paused. “Even if she is evil…”
“I know.” He sighed. “Guess I’m getting soft in my old age. I just don’t want to risk anything by jumping into bed with her. She seems like trouble.”
“Oh, she is my friend, she is,” I told him, an image of Agrippina’s offer that involved Helena popping into my mind, “but I suspect it would be worth it.”
“What are you two talking about?” Agrippina interrupted from behind us.
I looked back at her, noticing she still looked beautiful, but conservatively dressed for once. “Nothing, ma’am, just talking strategy.”
She made a pouty sound and looked off into the distance. Maybe I was giving her too much credit, and she really was just some dopy teenager at heart.
I turned back to Santino and jabbed a finger towards his face. “Don’t let your emotions get in the way of letting you do what you want. Doing so leads to all kinds of internal struggles and moral dilemmas. It can get ugly.” I cocked my head, wondering where such hypocritical insight came from.
Santino glanced down at his horse’s mane and shook his head with a big grin on his face. “You’re not seriously lecturing me, are you? I mean, you do know who you’re talking to, right? It’s me.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know. I’m just saying.”
He laughed again. “Well, you’re just full of helpful information then, aren’t you? Maybe you should have been a guidance counselor or something.”
I snorted. “Yeah, right.”
My poor sleeping habits continued that night, but not because of my own musings. Our new hotel was no cleaner than the last, but poor sanitation didn’t stop Santino from acting on my helpful advice. Agrippina offered us some wine, which I indulged in lightly, but both of them had more than enough. As a result, Santino stayed behind while I went back to my lonely, cold room, and had to try and sleep through hours of sexual outbursts on more occasions than I cared to remember. They all started to blur together after the first one. They gave me nightmares. They were fueled by weird outbursts from Santino, interestingly arousing cries of pleasure from Agrippina, and the insistent pounding of someone repeatedly smacking the wall that separated our two rooms.
As soon as the first wisps of dawn struck my face, I hauled myself out of bed as soon as I could, nearly delirious from exhaustion. With a quick knock to wake up my travel companions, I rushed outside to ready my horse. As I pulled a strap to tighten my gear along his flank, a sudden shriek from the hotel drew my attention in its direction before I realized how horribly familiar the sound was. I sighed, and looked at a few other early risers who were outside and heard the noise as well. They laughed, knowing full well what was happening, and when Santino came waltzing out twenty minutes later with a radiant Agrippina on his arm, they whooped and hollered at him. He gripped his hands together and shook them alongside both sides of his head in a celebratory gesture in response. Whether the ne’er-do-wells outside understood what he was doing or not didn’t matter. They loved it.
I looked over at him. “Quite the show of stamina last night you bastard.”
He returned the look. “Yeah, it’s my Italian blood.”
“How appropriate. Feel any better?”
“Definitely, but I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. You were right. She’s a freak.”
I had to laugh and roll my eyes at the same time before mounting my horse and giving him a quick kick. “Don’t worry. She has two sisters. Maybe one of them will be more to your liking.”
He smiled at the idea, while I paused to let him think about it.
“However,” I continued. “I hope you realize you may have just sired the next emperor of Rome.”
“Yeah, I…” He paused after mounting his own horse. “Wait, what?”
“Seriously,” I confirmed. “If something happens to Nero, and Agrippina has a child from your endless fornicating last night, he may become a Caesar. We can name him Julius Agrippa Augustus Germanicus Santino Caesar. I like that. Has a ring to it.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, actually, I’m not. Plus, you may have just created your own great times a thousand grandfather since you’ve had relations with a woman from a time period you don’t belong in.”
“Wait. That can’t really happen.” He thought about it. “Can it?”
I let him stew for a few seconds before I started laughing. “No, from what I think I know, it can’t. Just kidding.”
“Oh, good,” he said, looking laughably relieved.
Edward Crichton
The Last Roman
***
A day and a thankfully quiet night later, the walls of Rome sprang into sight. Still a few miles out, I could see just how expansive the city really was, but its walls weren’t what intimidated me right now, it was the two tiny little dots I saw flanking the small gateway. If we couldn’t get through those guards, this mission would be scrubbed before it even began.
Santino and I had opted out of our HK416 rifles, which were long, somewhat cumbersome, and very hard to conceal. Instead, Santino had borrowed Wang’s UMP, and I’d taken Helena’s P90. These were easily concealed beneath our baggy togas, and billowing travel cloaks, securely tied down to our backs with their slings. Additionally, we packed night vision goggles, plenty of Bordeaux’s C-4, a small but extensive medical kit put together by Wang, and enough ammo to take on a very small army. Most of this we kept hidden in locally made bags, which did well to conceal our gear, but weren’t designed like our own to make what we needed easily accessible.
Hopefully, we wouldn’t let things get confusing, but as Santino and I well knew, shit happens, and very quickly in our line of work. We’d stage the rescue while Agrippina distracted Claudius, grabbing the kid, and
moving towards the walls of Rome to lay down our demo. Then we’d get the hell out of dodge.
Easy.
By the time we reached the gate, I was only slightly nervous. I figured if everything went according to plan, this should technically be the hardest part.
I wasn’t really expecting everything to go as planned.
Things never went as planned.
Luckily, the Praetorians we’d interacted with during our time in Rome were few, and all in the Primigenia’s camp, so there would be very few people who could easily recognize us. Santino could probably pass for a Roman, due to his height and dark features, and while I’d be a bit more suspicious, my physical characteristics weren’t completely foreign in the Roman world. I’d also spent the past few weeks growing out my facial hair, so hopefully even the ladies who made time to watch me run wouldn’t immediately recognize me.
The movement of traffic into the city was crowded and slow moving. The constant flow of traders, visitors, farmers, and other types of people made the road busy and hustled. My spirits were lifted when I observed that the guards seemed lackadaisical in their duty, and were just waving people through. When our turn came up, Agrippina flashed the guards a fantastic smile, and they wasted no time waving us through, unable to take their eyes off our female companion.
Through the gates, we made our way to the Palatine at a leisurely, and hopefully, inconspicuous pace. At the base of the hill, I noticed Claudius had not sat idle during the winter, and had spent the time rebuilding the home Bordeaux had destroyed with just a few pounds of plastic explosive. We abandoned our horses in a nearby stable owned by Agrippina, just outside the pomerium, and backtracked a bit to finish the trip on foot. Once inside the gated complex, Agrippina issued some last minute advice.
“My son is kept in a room near the back of the house, but you won’t be familiar with the layout. Follow the main hallway. His room will be the first on the right once the hall meets a cross hallway. There will be guards. Now, there is an exit near my son’s room. If you face his chamber, take the hallway to your left. The third door on your right leads to a small storage area. There is a doorway hidden behind a cabinet at the far end of the room. Claudius has installed many of these hidden exits in his home. His paranoia runs deep.”
“Where will you be?” Santino asked.
“Claudius’ room, where he may or may not be right now. I will head there to make sure he is not home. If he is, I will distract him while you retrieve my son. If he is not, I will join you as soon as I can.”
As she spoke, I saw genuine pain and fear in her face, or at least as good as any impression I’d seen yet.
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “This will be a walk in the park.”
“What does walking in parks have to do with anything?”
I sighed. “Never mind.” These Romans needed to learn a few cliches.
“We’ll get him,” Santino comforted.
She nodded, before breaking away from us as we passed the threshold of the house.
As opposed to the sparse elegance the house exuded the last time I was here, Claudius’ new decor screamed crazed and opulent exuberance. The home was littered with statues, paintings and plants. It looked like an art museum had set up shop in a rain forest. The displays were random, and many were so obscene I had to look away.
Santino and I quietly made our way down the hall, our boots echoing softly. While our togas were an important part of the plan, we wore much of our combat gear beneath, save our vests. If we had to fight, we could ditch the togas, and be at near optimal fighting readiness in seconds.
Following Agrippina’s directions, we made our way down the long, wide, main hallway. Along the way, we passed numerous rooms, and more artwork, the latter of which providing us some concealment as we kept moving. Santino, on point, started to slow as he approached the end of the hallway before it ended with another hallway running perpendicular to the one we’d just walked down. If Agrippina’s directions were right, Nero’s room should just be around the corner. So far we hadn’t seen any guards, which did little to ease my nervousness, but when Santino stopped, knelt, and looked around the corner using a small mirror, he indicated he saw two of them.
“You go first,” he whispered. “Take out the far one.”
I moved into position along the opposite wall, ready to hurl myself down the adjacent hallway. Securing one of my feet against the wall behind me, I nodded to Santino.
He held out three fingers, slowly counting them down to a clenched fist. When he did, I leapt into action. Using the wall as a springboard, I practically flew across our hallway, rounding the corner in as wide a turn as I could manage. Just as I caught sight of the guards, who were lazily resting their hands on the hilts of their swords, I fell into a roll, landing past the first guard, and right in front of the second. In one fluid motion I stepped up from the roll, and swung my elbow upwards into the second guard’s jaw. I heard teeth shatter, and felt my elbow bruise. I ignored the pain and wrapped my arm around the man’s neck, and stepped behind him, placing him in an effective choke hold. Using his body as a shield, I turned to face the first guard while I choked the life from the man I held. My carefulness was unnecessary, however, as Santino used my distraction to simply walk up behind the first guard, and shove his knife upwards into the man’s brain through the bottom of his jaw.
We dropped our fresh kills, opened the door into Nero’s room, and dragged them inside.
“I thought they only did rolls in the movies,” Santino wondered, dragging his kill.
“If you’re going to do anything,” I pointed out, “you might as well look good doing it.”
He snickered. A few seconds later, we had the bodies in the room, and the door shut behind us. We only had one real test left, and that was making sure the boy didn’t freak out when he saw us. He was only a baby after all, and I knew as much about them as I did women, which didn’t inspire much confidence. I could only imagine Santino knew even less.
Moving further into the room, we took up positions on either side of the small Roman style crib that rested against the far wall. We peeked over the edge to see a gurgling and sleeping baby boy, wrapped in a miniature version of a Roman toga. The toga even had a little purple seam.
“That him?” Santino whispered.
“Yup,” I replied quietly. “There lies the soul of a man with the potential to kill untold thousands of men, women and children.”
Santino regarded him closely. “Kinda cute, ain’t he?”
“Yeah, a little bit.”
The little guy did look kind of cute, especially with the mini toga on, but my mind refused to feel sympathetic towards him. Shuddering at the thought of what kind of man he could become, I bent down to pick him up, but just as I wrapped my hands around his small body I had to back off because he started to cry.
I looked at Santino. “I guess we probably should have thought this through, huh?”
“Here. Let me try,” he offered, reaching down into the crib. Picking the child up, Santino held him out in front of him, his elbows locked, keeping Nero as far away from his body as possible. The child didn’t cry though, and both baby and Santino looked at each other curiously. Apparently satisfied at what he was seeing, young Nero started gurgling and even cooed at Santino.
“Aw,” I said, “I think you made a friend.”
“Yah,” Santino said with a smile, cradling the child against his chest. “I guess I did.”
Santino’s motherly glow quickly evaporated once he patted Nero on the back, enticing the small child to spit up all over his toga. Santino wrinkled his face in disgust as young Nero gurgled and giggled at his expense.
I laughed with him. “Come on, mum. We need to get out of here.”
Santino nodded and placed Nero in a small carrying cradle, little more than a piece of cloth wrapped and tied into a type of sling bag. The bag was in common use in ancient Rome as a baby carrier, and Agrippina had set it up for us before we arrived in
the city.
With the baby secured against Santino’s chest, we made for the exit. Since Santino was stuck playing babysitter, I took point this time, no need to place the child at any further risk. Back in the hall, we continued past the main hallway we had originally walked down, and counted three doors, entering the last one on the right. Finding the storage room, just as Agrippina had said, I located the cabinet and began pulling it aside.
And there was the door, again, just as she said.
Maybe she was on our side after all.
Reaching for the handle I gave it a yank, but it didn’t budge. Frowning, I tried pushing against it, again with no effect. Frustrated, I threw my entire weight against it, but with no more success. I leaned closer to the door and analyzed the seam. I discovered that it had been cemented together, and no matter how hard I tried, the door wasn’t going to budge.
I turned to face Santino. “We’re burned.”
“Figures,” he replied, pulling out his knife.
I didn’t waste any time replying. Instead, I moved towards the hallway we’d just come through, and gave it a quick glance. Still clear. Maybe the door was just another product of Claudius’ growing paranoia. Quickly abandoning the storage room, I led Santino back to the main hall. Another quick glance showed the immediate area to be clear, but with all the flora and fauna in the area, I couldn’t be sure. Knowing no other way out, I walked as calmly as I could down the hall.
We were about half way down the hall when doors started to open up all around us.
From the two rooms in front of us, a half dozen Praetorians emerged, and took up defensive positions to block our escape. From behind us, another door opened and only two Praetorians came out. The first of which was unlucky enough to walk into Santino’s knife, which he held in a reverse grip, and had thrust behind him through the man’s neck. The second man went down after I tore off my toga, pulled out my P220, and put a round through his skull. No more Praetorians came from behind us, so we stood side by side, in defensive positions facing our remaining attackers. It didn’t take long before I realized we had nowhere to retreat to, so we held our ground, waiting for our foes to make the first move.
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