by Frank Morin
Reuben stared from the hand to Spartacus, surprise on his face.
“It’s customary to shake it,” Gregorios said.
“I don’t shake hands with kashaph,” Reuben spat.
Spartacus dropped his hand. “So be it. In a more appropriate time, we will meet in the contest of arms to test the mettle of your honor.”
Gregorios said. “Reuben, pick up that table you knocked over.”
Quentin’s voice interrupted, speaking over the tactical net. “Gregorios, can I interrupt?”
“Only with good news.”
Spartacus gave Gregorios a quizzical look.
He shrugged and pointed at his earpiece. “Getting another message. Just a minute.”
Spartacus grinned. “This is what we must discuss! Mortals have harnessed the very power of the gods, but they can do so much more with it than grow fat and lazy.”
“Isn’t that what happened to your precious gods?” Alter asked.
The two launched into a debate of the value of the Roman gods and the power of the one true god. Reuben stood to one side, arms crossed, a scowl on his face. Gregorios tuned them out.
Quentin spoke again. “I have an update from the archives. The terrorist threat’s really motivated everyone to help.”
“And what did you find?” Gregorios asked softly.
“I believe the runes were engraved upon Hadrian’s tomb, specifically upon the capstone of Hadrian’s sarcophagus.”
“Location?” Gregorios asked.
“In the Basilica,” Quentin said. “Spartacus is hunting in the wrong place.”
That was a relief, although Gregorios hated wasting lives for a useless mission.
“Why would it be there?” he asked. Spartacus turned from his debate to listen to the one-sided conversation. He should’ve chosen his words more carefully.
“The capstone is a big, reddish porphyry stone,” Quentin reported. “It was moved into the basilica in A.D. 1000 to cover the tomb of Emperor Otto the Second.”
“Wait,” Gregorios said, pacing away from the too-watchful Spartacus. “But that was before the sacking of Rome.”
“That’s the thing,” Quentin said eagerly. “I found a single reference to how strange it was that during that deadly siege, the pope insisted on transporting the stone along with him into the Castel.”
“So it’s here after all?”
“No, they brought it back to the Basilica again. It’s now used as the font in the baptistery on the main level.”
“You can’t be serious,” Gregorios said. That suggested all kinds of ethical issues.
“That’s my best guess,” Quentin said. “The evidence points in that direction. If the runes aren’t there, then no one’s going to find them any time soon.”
“Thanks. Good work.”
He turned from the call to find the two hunters and Spartacus watching him.
“That sounded like an interesting call,” Reuben said.
“Indeed,” said Spartacus, rolling his shoulders. “It appears we now face a choice. Will you share the location of the runes I seek, or shall we again meet in glorious battle?”
“No time for that,” came a new voice.
They all turned toward the northwest door, which led into the Sala dell’Adrianeo. Soldiers had checked that room and found nothing.
A tall, slender Chinese woman stood in the doorway now. She wore a young body, but her face looked mature, and Gregorios felt like he should know her. She cuddled a newborn baby in a carry pack on her chest.
“Who are you?” he asked as his soldiers shifted to cover her.
“She is not named before the unpurified,” Spartacus said in a voice that sounded like he intended it to be a whisper, but easily reached every ear.
“That’s a little arrogant,” Gregorios said.
“Indeed.”
Alter advanced on the woman. “My heart has been pure since my youth.”
“Not any more, abomination,” Reuben snarled.
Alter ignored him. “Speak woman, or we’ll be forced to bind you.”
The woman raised one eyebrow, and in that moment she bore a striking resemblance to Mai Luan. Sarah’s account of Paul’s reference to his mother made sense.
“Alter, get back,” Gregorios shouted, snapping his shotgun into position.
The woman crossed to Alter in a blink, grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. She shook him like a doll and twisted him into Gregorios’ line of fire.
“Tell me the location of the runes, Gregorios,” she said calmly, easily holding Alter’s thrashing form.
“I don’t share secrets with women I just met,” Gregorios said, studying her.
Alter’s face was turning blue from lack of air, but then his eyes ignited with purple fire. He grasped the woman’s arm with burning hands and Gregorios prepared to fire when she dropped him.
She didn’t.
Her eyes ignited too. Rather than the violet shade common to facetakers and Cui Dashi, her eyes glowed a brilliant lavender color, unlike anything Gregorios had seen before. Her hand also began to burn with activated nevron.
Alter opened his mouth in a silent scream, beating uselessly against her hand.
“Last chance,” the woman said to Gregorios. “Or I’ll rip this one’s head off.”
Too bad she hadn’t grabbed Reuben.
“Put him down, demon,” Reuben snarled. “His soul is mine to purge.”
Reuben opened fire with his automatic rifle.
The sound of gunfire triggered a response from all of the members of the Tenth who had shifted around to face the new threat. They all fired on the woman with hollow point bullets or electro-shock and sleep darts.
Gregorios held his fire. He didn’t have a shot, and it became instantly clear that shooting this woman was a waste of time. Darts and bullets barely broke her skin, and the wounds healed so fast she barely bled. Her only response to the barrage was to raise her free hand to shield the child.
He had never imagined such enhancement. It didn’t look like the web that protected Spartacus and his men included her, but she didn’t appear to need it. This woman was a force like nothing they had ever faced.
“Cease fire,” he shouted.
The room fell silent but for the wailing of the frightened child. For a moment, its eyes glowed like amethysts.
Even more disturbing. The suspicion of a family of Cui Dashi was proving true, a nightmare worse than anything Gregorios had ever imagined.
“Let the boy go,” he said with a sigh. “And I’ll tell you what I know.” Eirene would never forgive him if he let Alter’s head get ripped off.
The woman cocked her head to one side and shook Alter again.
“The runes are possibly engraved on the capstone of Hadrian’s tomb, which was moved to the Basilica to cover Emperor Otto the Second’s tomb.”
She smiled. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Drop him,” Gregorios said.
She considered Alter and her expression hardened. For a second, Gregorios feared she’d rip Alter’s head off anyway, but then her grip relaxed and she lowered him to the floor. Still holding his throat, but easing her hold enough for him to suck in a ragged breath, she twisted his face to each side, studying him.
“You are an interesting child. Live another day.”
With startling speed, she threw him at Gregorios. The impact sent them both sprawling.
Before Gregorios could rise, the woman tossed her baby at Reuben. The surprised hunter dropped his rifle to catch the child. In the time he did that, she had already knocked down every soldier of Gregorios’ team. She blurred through them, tossing men aside like chaff in a whirlwind, leaving elite, enhanced soldiers broken and groaning in her wake.
She shot across the room and snatched her baby from Reuben. He tried to hit her, but his enhanced movement looked like slow motion compared to hers. She kicked him aside, sending him tumbling back out the broken door he had arrived through.
“Complete your mission,” the woman told Spartacus.
She disappeared out the western exit before he could raise his hand in salute.
Gregorios climbed to his knees. At least Alter was alive. The boy was gasping, clutching his bruised throat.
“Who was that?”
“We each have our roles to play,” Spartacus said. “I will wish you good luck in stopping them this time.” He saluted Gregorios and rushed out of the room through the southern exit that led to the ancient treasure room and up to an open roof courtyard beyond.
“Where’d that woman go?” Gregorios shouted into the tactical net.
“Gone,” Bastien reported. “We lost contact.”
Harriett spoke. “She jumped right off the turret. Landed just inside the outer gates and kicked them right off their hinges. What was that thing?”
“I believe that was the queen mother of Cui Dashi,” Gregorios said.
Harriett muttered a curse. “She picked up an armored truck like it was a toy and used it to crush both our fire trucks. Then she ran up the street. Must’ve hit fifty before I lost sight of her.”
Bastien muttered a French curse and asked, “How is it possible?”
“We’ll deal with her later,” Gregorios said, just happy she left instead of hanging around another half second to kill them all. He’d faced many powerful foes, but he’d never felt as completely, helplessly terrified as he had in the face of that slender Chinese woman. He couldn’t let that fear interrupt his family’s effectiveness. They still needed to deal with the current threat.
Besides, he needed some time to come up with ideas on how to stop that woman.
“Spartacus is on the move. Contain him.”
As Bastien organized the rest of their forces to secure the rooftop where Spartacus had fled, Gregorios checked on his soldiers. None would die, but none would fight again for a while. He called for medical assistance, then turned to Alter, who had risen, but still looked pale.
“Call your brother in here. We’ve got to get past our disagreement for a while. This threat trumps everything else.”
“I’ll see if he’s all right,” Alter said, trotting toward exit the unnamed Cui Dashi had thrown Reuben through.
He arrived just as a grenade plopped into the doorway.
Alter kicked it back outside and dove to the side. The blast threw debris into the room.
“I guess your brother doesn’t want to behave,” Gregorios said. He switched to his tactical mike. “Who has eyes on the hunters?”
“They just roped down to the lower level,” Bastien said. “I let them go.”
“Keep a couple rifles on them. If they make any other threatening moves against our forces, disable them.”
Harriett broke in. “I’ve located Spartacus. We have bigger problems.”
“How is he a bigger problem?” Gregorios asked.
“You’ve got to see this to believe it.”
Gregorios rushed up the narrow stairs Spartacus had just escaped up and ran to the outer edge of the open court. A second set of stairs descended from that corner, which explained why he didn’t see Spartacus up there.
Directly below him, passing through the broken main gate, marched the majority of Spartacus’ century they hadn’t seen during the earlier fighting. Spartacus led them, oaken spear in hand.
They walked through a hail of bullets and incendiary mortar rounds without slowing. With the modified fire trucks disabled, the Yurak fighters lacked the sticky foam that might have held the enhanced heka, but Gregorios wondered if even that would work now.
Spartacus turned right and marched through the police lines, ignoring the carabinieri firing at him from all sides, his gaze locked on St. Peter’s Basilica half a mile away, straight down the Via della Conciliazione.
He thought he knew where the runes were, and he was going for them.
“Harriett, call in all units,” Gregorios ordered. “Deploy every delaying tactic we have. Do not let Spartacus reach the Basilica.”
“But the web’s stronger than ever,” she said. “Kinetic energy and even heat are no longer slowing them.”
“I know. Just do it.”
Gregorios changed channels. “Tomas, I need good news and I need it now.”
Gunfire chattered through the connection as Tomas spoke. “Closing on the hill under heavy smoke. Resistance is fierce. I estimate another twenty minutes to win through.”
“You don’t have that much time,” Gregorios said. “Take that web down now, Captain. Order the charge.”
Tomas swore softly, but didn’t hesitate.
“Yes, sir. We won’t fail.”
Chapter Eighty-Six
Magellan was an arrogant fool. Without enhancements or support from the ship cannons, he was doomed to die on Mactan. However, I still relish the memory of completing that first ever journey around the world.
~ Harald, facetaker council member
Tomas stood on the edge of the summit plateau of the Palatine Hill. A maze of ruins lay between him and the known opening to the cryptoporticus. His teams had been driving steadily in that direction under heavy fire, leaving a dozen chained heka in their wake.
The enemy was adapting. At first, they rushed into battle singly or in pairs, trusting their protective web to keep them from harm. Now they bunched in two large groups of eight to ten fighters. Their numbers were small, but in those tight formations, they could lay down such withering fire that no enforcers could get close enough to disable them, despite the heavy smoke billowing across the battlefield.
Ordering a charge into the face of that opposition would shred his team as badly as the famous ride of the light brigade. To disable a critical heka web, he had taken command and led those doomed men through that valley of death. The price had been high, but necessary to prevent the Russians from gaining the advantage and altering the course of history.
He had sworn never to order such a charge again, but his duty was clear.
He’d already discarded the idea of raining high-explosive mortars across the historical location. The fallout from that might be worse in the long run than the deaths of a few enforcers. He and his men were expendable, and they had a job to do.
A slender, Filipino enforcer named Isagani dropped to a crouch behind the ruined stone wall beside Tomas. He handed Tomas a small box. “Captain, this just arrived from Quentin for you.”
“Perfect.” Tomas hefted it, considering its possible uses. The specialty item could only be used once.
Quentin had lied when he told the others that he didn’t have any more of his rune-nullifying compound. Tomas held the last of it, packed into a grenade like the one Quentin had used at the mansion.
He was tempted to use it to break the heka defenses, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d asked Quentin for it as a trump card when they found Paul.
With a leaden heart, he spoke crisply into his throat mike. “Listen up, men. The situation at the Castel’s changed. Our orders are to take this hill right now. We’re taking the fight to them with everything we’ve got.”
“Captain,” Anaru’s voice came over the net. “My team won’t be in position to provide covering fire until we take out this last heka nest.”
“We can’t wait any longer. Step it up. I need your men in this rush.”
“Yes, sir.”
Anaru clicked off, and Tomas began ordering the teams to form up and prepare to charge.
“Captain,” Domenico broke in, sounding out of breath. “I have something that will help.”
The Italian enforcer appeared around a pile of rubble, carrying a pair of riot shields.
Tomas laughed. “Where did you get those?” They hadn’t been part of the gear available in the trucks.
“I borrowed some from a police team sent to investigate reports of armed men in the Forum.”
Tomas didn’t bother to ask if the polizia had relinquished the shields willingly or not. They offered the critical piece he needed to
make the charge work.
“Are you ready to lead the charge?” he asked, and Domenico answered with a grin, bringing his shield into position.
“Domenico and I will break cover. I’ll take the group on the left. Domenico, you take the other position.” Tomas would be more exposed in his charge, but the riot shield gave him a chance.
“As soon as we draw their fire,” he said to his men, “teams one through four follow in sequence. No matter what happens or who goes down, our objective is to take these tunnels and disrupt that web.”
Two of the team commanders began to argue for the chance to lead the charge. Tomas appreciated the gesture, but he wouldn’t send them in first, knowing what they were about to run into. He’d lost four bodies in combat but each time a facetaker, usually Gregorios, had been close enough to salvage his soul and transfer him to a new host.
This time there would be no salvation.
“We go on my mark.” He took a deep, steadying breath and peered around the crumbling half-wall behind which he crouched. Forty feet of open space separated him from the first heka nest, across rough ground, through dense smoke. Once they spotted him, they had an excellent field of fire, hunched within the ruins of an ancient palace. None of Tomas’ men could get a clear shot to use their disabling equipment until he took the plunge.
“Team nine, fire a starburst round directly over the heka position.”
“Roger,” came the immediate reply. “Firing now.”
Tomas tensed to charge, every muscle quivering with adrenaline as he embraced battle fury that had seen him through most of the worst battlefields in the past two centuries.
The starburst round exploded above, and slightly in front of, the heka position, a blinding light that slowly settled toward the ground. Tomas heard the shouts of dismay from the heka ranks as the unexpected brilliance temporarily blinded them.
“Charge!” He leaped the wall and sprinted through the roiling smoke that glowed eerily from the starburst. That round would expire in seconds, but that was all the time he needed.
With the riot shield held in front, Tomas flew across the ground, running at full enhanced speed, drawing deep from his enhancements. His men poured out of their shielded positions and gave chase, but none of them could quite match his speed. He spared a glance to his right where Domenico charged the second heka position, a little closer than the one he was targeting.