The Last Roman (The Praetorian Series - Book I)

by Edward Crichton

  I

  Hunter

  C-130J Super Hercules(II), Over the Mediterranean Sea

  July, 2021 AD

  C-130J Super Hercules(II) aircraft have often been lauded as the smoothest ride in the sky. First deployed only a year ago, the Super Hercules(II) was the most advanced military aircraft on the planet, and after only a few months of active service, were practically considered luxury liners by those who flew in them.

  Unfortunately, the hurricane type conditions currently surrounding my particular C-130J didn’t care what people thought of them, and proceeded to toss and bounce my plane around like any other aircraft. Even prior to the storm, the ride was no smoother than my first HALO combat drop out of an old C-130 over Palestine three years ago, or the countless times since. I’d long ago concluded that people who named these things really should fly in one every once in a while.

  Perspective was a wonderful thing, after all.

  I smirked at my wayward musings; my constant companions for years. They’d become a relentless presence in my life, a simple way to pass the time when nerves became most acute. While five years in the US Navy, the last three of which I’d spent as an elite Navy SEAL, had extinguished any ability I may have once had to feel fear over something as mundane as a flight through a thunderstorm, that didn’t mean I was completely steadfast. I could feel nervous before a mission and even anxious during them, but I was never totally afraid. Fear can compromise an operator’s initiative or lock him up in the heat of battle, and that can get people killed. The one thing that always hits a nerve, however, was the loss of control, like the fact that I knew I couldn’t do anything if something happened to the aircraft. I didn’t possess the skill set required to help, and that made me feel helpless, hence the wandering thoughts.

  Being in control has always been important to me, ever since I was a kid, which is what brought me on this trip in the first place. I was a fourth generation Navy man, following in the illustrious footsteps of men who had served in Desert Storm, Vietnam, Korea, World War II, and World War I. But my career hadn’t started as early as it could have. Annapolis had accepted my enrollment straight out of high school, but I’d turned them down. Instead, much to my father’s intense disapproval, I chose to attend Dartmouth to pursue a life studying history and the classics. I’d never seen him more disappointed, and it wasn’t until after I’d graduated that I had finally redeemed my honor in his eyes by joining the Navy. That was five years ago.

  I was his favored son once again.

  Until today.

  After turning down the appointment to Annapolis, I’d once wondered if my father would disown me. He hadn’t, but after the events of a few hours ago, I wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t now. To him, boarding this C-130J Super Hercules(II) aircraft was paramount to high treason.

  I rubbed my eyes to cleanse the contentious thoughts from my mind. There was no sense in continuing to go over them in my head now. My decision was made and the plane wouldn’t turn around anyway.

  I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

  We would be in Rome soon.