Order of the Black Sun Box Set 11

by Preston William Child

“Good,” the masked man said as she stopped trying to push him off.

  As Nina looked more closely at her assailant and her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could tell that the stone face was nothing more than a mask and it suddenly occurred to Nina who this masked person might be. They had said that those thieves stealing antiques around Rome wore masks—the Third Triumvirate, that's what they had been called. This must be them. They definitely didn't care about proper introductions.

  The man kept his voice at a low register. “We've heard that you're looking for Caesar's sword.”

  Nina didn't answer. Even if she wanted to, the man's hand was still firmly covering her mouth. Slowly and cautiously, the man withdrew his hand, looking ready to latch it back onto her face if he had to. She complied but only because of the threat to Riley's life. That girl's blood wasn't going to be on her hands.

  “Where did you hear that from?” Nina muttered, genuinely curious about the answer.

  “We hear all kinds of things,” the masked man replied. “Do you know who we are?”

  “If I had to take a guess...I’d say that you’re those burglars running all over the museums around here. The petty thieves with masks stealing art pieces. Is that about right?”

  “Burglars...” The word seemed very insulting to whoever was behind that mask. “We are hardly burglars. No. We’re revolutionaries. All of us. It's not easy trying to change the world. Laws that are in place have to be broken and made inconsequential. Discard the rules of the old world. That's the first step to prepare for a new one.”

  “Excuses,” Nina said sharply. “That's all. Excuses for being bad people who are making a mockery of history.”

  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, she could see a third figure standing by the hotel room door. They were either guarding that spot to make sure Nina didn't try to escape or to keep anyone from coming in and interrupting this charming conversation. Either way, it wasn't good.

  Nina was also starting to get a better look at the stone faces that were being used as masks. She recognized all three faces from actual statues that she had seen. They were recreations of faces that had been watching over museums for years. Each one of those masks was the face of a long-dead emperor of Ancient Rome—most would say, the three worst emperors.

  The man at the foot of her bed had the face of Nero. The one threatening to skewer Riley was wearing the ugly mug of Commodus, and the woman by the door looked a whole lot like Caligula.

  “You all look so familiar...odd that people wanting to restore Rome to greatness look a whole lot like men who helped ruin it. The Third Triumvirate...pfft. Caligula, Nero, and Commodus were too crazy and preoccupied with their own insanity to actually improve Rome at all. Strange choices to pick as the faces of your operation. I'm just saying...”

  Mr. Nero didn't say anything for a long moment. The big one, Mr. Commodus, was waiting for orders but his body language looked a bit impatient. The woman by the door stepped toward the bed.

  “Don't do anything you'll regret,” Miss Caligula said to Mr. Nero. She then turned her still gaze to Nina. “Believe it or not...we need you. Far more than that fool at the museum does. You can find what we can't. You can find Caesar's sword, can't you? All we ask is that when you do, you give it to us. It would be a waste to just put it behind glass in some exhibit. A big waste.”

  “Why not just let me bring it back to the museum? You lot all love to steal things from them anyway. You can just grab it when I'm done with it...just like all of the other things that you’ve taken.”

  “Caesar's sword is special. It's different. We can't just let a museum have their way with it. They will lock it up real tight for years, where we’d never be able to get to it.”

  “Why take the antiques from all of those museums? What's stealing going to do to help restore the old Rome?”

  “The things we took are reminders. They’ll make everyone remember how great we once were. They’ll show people how Rome flourished and spread its greatness to the rest of the world.”

  It was just like that letter that Elijah had read aloud. These people were delusional, trying their hardest to paint themselves as saviors.

  “That’s some great revision of history. Rome stretched itself too thin and collapsed under its own weight. It wasn't the perfect utopia that you're pretending it was. Check your facts and do some real research next time before looking for an excuse to cause some chaos.”

  Mr. Nero was silent again for a long time. He leaned in close, until his masked face was right up to Nina's ear.

  “You’ll bring us Caesar's sword,” Mr. Nero whispered. “If you don't, we’ll have no choice but to execute more of your friends. You’ll all be marked as enemies of the Empire!”

  She didn't know what he meant by more of her friends. All of her friends were still alive as far as she knew.

  “Don't fail us,” Miss Caligula said coldly from where she stood.

  Mr. Commodus stepped away from Riley's bed and joined the others by Nina's. All three of the masked figures loomed over her threateningly. She knew that if they wanted to kill her right then, there wouldn't be any way of stopping them. But they apparently needed her.

  The three each calmly left the room one at a time until the Triumvirate was gone.

  Nina almost broke down from sheer panic but just barely managed to keep it together.

  Part of her wanted to wake Riley up and tell her what happened. She wanted to run over to the next room, throw Elijah and August out of bed, and warn them too. Maybe August could barrel down the hotel halls like a one-man stampede and take all three of those masked demons down?

  She wanted to scream—but she stopped herself. What good was it to make her whole team panic? The Third Triumvirate knew where they were. They sneaked into the room and right up to them silently, without even the slightest bit of warning. Those three could have murdered Nina's entire group with ease if they really wanted to...but they didn't. They held all of the power, so telling the others about the Triumvirate's visit would just freak them all out.

  Even if she didn't feel like it, she was the leader and it was her responsibility to do what was best for the team. She preferred that everyone try to focus on finding the sword of Caesar. They could worry about those lunatics' threats later. The Third Triumvirate wanted the sword too, so their presence didn't matter until after they found the sword. They probably wouldn't strike until then at least.

  Nina spent the rest of the long night staring at the ceiling. It was hard to sleep when all she could picture was seeing another stone face looming over her bedside again. They’d gotten in before without her noticing. They could probably do the same thing again? She didn't dare sleep, terrified of what could be waiting for her whenever she woke up.

  She tried to push those thoughts and images out of her mind, or at least focus on the positives. She was alive, she was fine, and she was still looking for the sword of Caesar, just like she’d been before the Third Triumvirate came to threaten her in the middle of the night. She was still baffled that their trio went so far as to wear masks of the worst Roman emperors in history.

  She was even more baffled that Riley had slept through that whole ordeal. She must have been one of the heaviest sleepers to ever live. Nina had no idea how close she had been to being skewered by a big man in a mask.

  No. Her team didn't need that extra worry; for now, they just needed to worry about finding the sword. It took a long time—maybe hours—but Nina's eyes drifted closed and she fell asleep, but her last thoughts were fearful ones of stone faces in the dark.

  10

  THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

  Nina woke up the next morning, glad to be alive but couldn't stop thinking about her late night visit. She would have to warn Santino that those Third Triumvirate people were interested in the sword too. It was early morning and Riley was still fast asleep, as comfortable as she had been during the threat to her life. Nina didn't need the rest of the team to come with her to the Pa
lazza Nuovo. She didn't expect that it would be too long of a conversation with Santino, and she didn't anticipate many threats so there was no need to bring August to help fend off any enemies.

  Nina returned to the Palazza Nuovo bright and early the following morning as discussed. The plan was to get Santino up to date on everything they had learned in Egypt. Once he was debriefed, they would come up with possible locations to scout out next.

  Commodus wasn't an emperor she was overly familiar with from her former studies. She knew the broad strokes about him but mainly, she just knew the version of him that Joaquin Phoenix played in the film, Gladiator, and that movie wasn't exactly historically accurate. It definitely wasn't the source that she would want to use when conducting a new plan. That's why she needed Santino. Roman history was not only his specialty, it was his whole life. She was sure that Santino would be able to give her some much needed insight into the real history of Commodus. And with that knowledge, maybe they could figure out where the emperor would have put Caesar's sword?

  She walked up to the museum's door and knocked. It was hour before the museum opened but she still expected Santino to greet her at the door, but no one came. She tried not to worry. It was very early, so he might not have even been in there yet. She gave the door another hard knock in case he hadn't heard her first but when she did, the entrance gently swayed open.

  That was nice of him to leave the door open for her. She let herself in and strolled through the museum. The morning sun spilled light through the windows and gave everything inside an ethereal glow. Even the weaponry and armaments seemed softer somehow. For a brief second, everything seemed warm and hopeful, but then she saw Santino.

  He was on the floor in the room with the mannequins she’d seen during her initial visit. Unlike then, they weren't positioned perfectly in a testudo formation like the Roman soldiers of old. No, the majority of them were sprawled about the floor. Their fake weapons were beside them, like they’d been disarmed before their defeats. It was a sad display, like she was seeing the aftermath of a battle; nothing made it seem more like that than Santino. He was the only body in the room that had actually ever breathed, but now he was just as lifeless as the rest.

  Santino was lying on his back and surrounded by a puddle of blood. Nina rushed over to him but immediately, she knew it was far too late to save him. She was looking at a corpse. She could tell just at first glance that he was killed from multiple stab wounds to the chest.

  There was a paper on top of him and she had a hunch of who the author was. She’d seen a letter like that before, in that very same museum.

  The Third Triumvirate did this.

  She looked down at the new letter. It was resting on the museum manager's body. His well-kept suit was stained blood red and his face was contorted in pain. It hadn't been a quick death, that was for sure. She felt a bit bad. Santino had never been one of her favorite people and she certainly wouldn't consider herself a fan, but he didn't deserve this.

  Nina looked the letter over. She knew it was tampering with a crime scene but the police had failed to do anything about the Third Triumvirate so far. She would probably have better luck with any evidence than the police would have. She read the letter silently to herself.

  The enemies of Rome will be struck down at once. We will not tolerate treachery or sabotage. We will not tolerate defiance. We will not tolerate rebellion. In order of the great empire to be brought back as it once was, extreme measures will have to be taken. There will be no quarter given to anyone that does not stand with us.

  We do not want to do it this way.

  Necessary change sometimes warrants necessary violence.

  There are those that continue to try and ruin Rome. They want to keep us in the mud and prevent us from ascending to our lost glory. There are those that want the real Rome to stay buried in the depths of the past. They do not want us to rise, but we will ascend nonetheless.

  There was a time when the Second Triumvirate eliminated anyone who was a threat, any known enemies that would harm Rome, whether they were foreign or domestic. These enemies to Rome were purged and the threat they posed was removed altogether. The Second Triumvirate did this by creating the proscriptions, naming these foes and then dealing with them thoroughly and without mercy.

  The Third Triumvirate will do the same.

  Consider this our proscriptions. These people are enemies of the Roman Empire.

  Rome will be restored to greatness.

  Signed, Mr. Nero, Mr. Commodus, and Miss Caligula.

  A list of names followed. There were people from all walks of life on there. There were government officials, police officers, judges, teachers, even store clerks. For all Nina knew, some of these people might have been real problems but some might have just been personal vendettas that the members of the Triumvirate were trying to settle.

  She saw Santino Rossi's name with a line through it. He wasn't the only one. There were three other names that had also been crossed off this kill list.

  They could call it proscriptions to try and make it seem official, but it couldn't hide what this letter really was—a hit list. The Third Triumvirate had quickly taken the leap from thieves to terrorists. They were getting more and more erratic it seemed.

  Nina saw another familiar name on the list.

  Dr. Nina Gould.

  As much as she wanted to pocket the letter, she couldn't. The police needed it, so they could warn all of the names that were being targeted.

  Nina called the police, and they arrived quickly with an ambulance, not that the ambulance could do much good for Santino. They should have come with a hearse instead. She explained how she found the body and told them that she read the letter just so they weren't wondering why her fingerprints were all over the paper.

  As they were putting together the crime scene, a man came strolling up to Nina with an unusual gape in his steps. He was a middle aged man with long hair tied back into a tight ponytail and a black beard was neatly trimmed along his jaw line. He pulled out a very small notebook and started scribbling in it.

  “Dr. Nina Gould,” the newcomer said without looking up from where he was scrawling in his little book. “That’s your name, yes?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  He lowered the notepad for a moment and gave an uncomfortably thin smile that had no real warmth to it. “It's a pleasure to meet you. I’m Inspector Donatello Amaro. I just have some questions that I’d like to ask you about this mess.” He returned his attention back to his notepad and got his pen ready.

  Nina nodded. She’d been honest enough with the police so far, and was going to continue cooperating. She’d tell them any of the necessary information they wanted without getting into the Order of the Black Sun or anything that they didn't need to know.

  “I’ll happily share whatever you require.

  “Fantastic, this may take a minute or two.”

  They sat at one of the visitor benches in the museum's lobby. He took a seat right beside her, still focused on his notebook and ready to start writing.

  “So what would you like to know--”

  She barely had a chance to finish her sentence before the questions started to rain down on her like a flurry of arrows.

  “What were you doing here hours before the museum opens?”

  “Santino asked me to meet him here this morning. I guess he wanted to talk before employees and visitors arrived.”

  “A private conversation then,” the inspector said, mostly to himself and still writing furiously in his notepad, jotting down word after word without pause. He must have been transcribing their conversation as they talked. “What was your relationship with the victim?”

  “Santino,” Nina said firmly. She didn't like how Santino was suddenly nameless in the eyes of the police now that he wasn't breathing. “His name was Santino Rossi.”

  Inspector Amaro looked up from his chicken scratch and looked a bit irritated, but offered another thin, disingenuous smile. “
My apologies, of course. My question still stands.”

  He didn't even try to correct himself. Nina didn't like this strange detective but she knew that not cooperating would only make her look bad. It already looked bad enough that she was there with the body in the museum before the museum had even opened. She didn't need to pile anymore suspicion onto herself.

  “Santino and I have known each other for years. We both run—ran—in the same circles of historical societies. But we weren't close. Acquaintances for the most part, really. I hadn't spoken to him in years.”

  “And now you’ll never converse with him again,” Inspector Amaro mused as he made a few more scribbles. He didn't bother looking up this time. He seemed so disconnected from anything outside his line of questioning and the pad of paper in his hands. That was all that mattered to him. It was probably a good trait to have in a criminal investigation but not when speaking to someone. He seemed so callous and didn’t share anything that was even close to empathy.

  “Clearly, given your accent, you aren’t from Italy.”

  “That's some brilliant detective work.” She didn't want to be antagonistic but this inspector was infuriating to talk to. He ignored her sarcasm, still focused on the notepad in his hand.

  “What brings you to Rome, then?”

  “I was invited...by Santino, actually.”

  “What for?”

  “I’ve been helping him look for a new item for the museum to have on display.” She gave some more details, anticipating where Inspector Amaro's line of questioning was going to follow next. “I'm a historian and yes, sometimes I do end up doing quite a bit of traveling.”

  “Interesting,” Amaro said with very little actual interest. “And what item were you helping him acquire?”

  Nina hesitated. She knew from experience that it was dangerous to talk openly about the artifacts she was seeking. There often too many eyes watching and too many ears possibly listening; especially after the Third Triumvirate had come to her room and had slaughtered Santino. She wondered if they’d already done this—murdered Santino—when they spoke to her in her room. It seemed likely. The Third Triumvirate already knew about Caesar's sword though, so their secret mission was already known to their enemies. She decided that honesty might be the only way to escape this casual interrogation on the bench.