Pompeii's Ghosts (A James Acton Thriller, #9)

by J. Robert Kennedy

  Reese grabbed him by the arm. “No, I’ll take care of that. You two just get that gold out of here.”

  Dawson was about to open his mouth when he thought better of it, the beginning of a glare from Reese enough. He quickly removed his vest, handing it to her. “Put this on. Once you’ve called in the strike, try to get over the embankment then make your way to town.”

  Reese nodded as she pulled on the vest. Dawson adjusted it for her much smaller frame, it still too big but much better than nothing.

  “Let’s go!” yelled Reese, jumping over the edge and onto the beach before Dawson could say anything. He and Niner rolled out, Niner immediately heading for the second vehicle, Dawson first checking to see Reese racing toward the tent, her skirt hiked high, her feet bare.

  Why the hell is she in bare feet?

  He shook his head, quickly climbing into the cab of the loader.

  Now to remember how the hell this things works.

  Market Road, Pompeii, Roman Empire

  August 25th, 79 AD

  Avita held her finger to her lips, urging her children to remain quiet as she peered around the corner to see if they had finally evaded their pursuers. A shadow rushed toward her position, the sandal clad feet barely audible, the ash providing a soft underlay to dull any sound. But the accompanying grunts were unmistakable as the shadow pushed its way through the waist high ash—it was her attacker.

  She stepped back inside, the door now stuck open due to the ash that had accumulated since the owners of this lovingly kept abode abandoned its walls for the safety of the street.

  Avita knew staying here was foolish, the roof already creaking over their heads, made worse with each shudder of the ground. She looked about for something to defend themselves with, the hammer dropped accidentally in their flight to safety. She spotted a clay vase on a table by a nearby window and grabbed it, dumping the dried flowers it contained onto the floor.

  “Cover your heads,” she whispered to the children. They reluctantly buried their heads under the blanket Flora held up for them, and Avita returned her attention to the door and the approaching curses. She knew they would be found, the path they plowed through the ash with their bodies obvious. She positioned herself behind the door, smoothing out the ash with several good kicks of her foot, then held the jar high over her head.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” asked a gruff, angry voice.

  “I can’t breathe,” came the reply, the voice weak and labored.

  “Get up!”

  “I-I can’t,” gasped the man.

  “Severus!”

  Avita could hear a commotion just outside the door and she exchanged a quick glance with Flora who like her seemed to be holding her breath. There was a grunt then a heavy thud.

  “Severus! You have to get up or you’re going to die!”

  “Leave me,” moaned the other. “Save yourself.”

  The sound Avita heard next, a strange gurgling sound, sent shivers up and down her spine as she realized the other man was dying. She was of mixed emotions, part of her thrilled with the knowledge they now only faced one attacker, the other part horrified that a human being had just died not paces away. Who was this man yesterday? Was he always bad, or had the situation driven him to evil through desperation and fear?

  She felt the vase in her hand, still held high, ready to deliver what she hoped would be a death blow to her foe, and marveled at how different she was today from yesterday. Yesterday she couldn’t imagine herself prepared to kill, but this disaster, this end of innocence, had become the great equalizer, leaving civil society behind, instead turning it into a battle of every man for himself where your station in society yesterday mattered not today.

  She looked over at Flora who huddled with the children, her free hand now occupied with a vase of its own, and realized that the act of kindness that had brought them together meant that the devolution of society was a choice, not an inevitable outcome of disaster, and if they all continued to help each other, rather than look out only for themselves, there might still be hope.

  “I’m going to kill that bitch!” roared her attacker’s voice from the other side of the partially ajar door. Avita braced herself as a shadow cast itself across the doorway then pushed into the home.

  His head came into view, his back to her, and she resisted the urge to roar her anger as her hand swung down hard, the vase shattering on his skull, the shards bursting in all directions as the man cried out in pain, dropping to his knees and grabbing for the back of his head. Flora leapt forward, no urge apparently blocking her own cry of rage as she shattered her vase over the man’s head as well, it unfortunately blocked by his hand now gripping his skull.

  He began to struggle to his feet and Avita looked at the final shard that remained in her hand, her eyes focusing on the sharp, jagged point.

  And a decision was made.

  She plunged down, burying the tip in the man’s back. He cried out in pain as she yanked it free, raising her arm again and once more jabbing the tip into his flesh. Flora leapt forward, her own cry drowning out the fearful cries of the man as she plunged her shard into the now bloodied back. They traded blows, the man crumpling to the ground, his cries and groans weakening with each savage turn, until finally he collapsed and moved no more.

  Avita fell backward, lying on the floor, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, her blood soaked hand releasing its death grip on the shard of the once innocent vase, its crafter never possibly imagining that it would be used someday as a weapon to kill.

  And to save.

  Tekezé River, Eritrea

  Present Day, One day before the crash

  James Acton crouched on the other side of the embankment, Laura kneeling by his side. A steady stream of panicking civilians were pouring over the embankment and onto the dirt road, clearly uncertain as to where to go.

  “This way!” yelled Acton, waving them toward him, then pointing down the road. “Follow the road then head inland! There’s a village!”

  The group seemed to crave leadership and immediately obeyed, rushing toward him then past where he was pointing. Within minutes almost all had gone past their position. The bombardment was steadily getting heavier, but so far they had been completely shielded from any fire. Several explosions indicated to him that some of the military hardware had been taken out and he wondered if Dawson and Niner were okay.

  He felt a hand on his arm. “What are you thinking?” asked Laura.

  He smiled at her, patting her hand. “You know me too well.”

  “You want to go back, don’t you?”

  He nodded, but ducked when another massive explosion vibrated through the ground, a fireball erupting into the air. “They’re unarmed. How many times have they saved us?”

  “That’s their job, it isn’t ours,” she replied, squeezing his arm a little tighter. “Their job is to protect us. If we don’t follow their instructions and go back, they’re going to have to risk their lives to save us again. They’ve already saved our lives by sending us here. Now let them do their job. I’m sure they’re going to be okay.”

  Acton nodded, knowing Laura was right, but still not feeling good about leaving them behind. He was about to rise when he heard a large engine roar to life, followed moments later by another one.

  “What the hell is that?” he asked, knowing the tanks had already powered up as soon as the planes had made their run for the border. These were new engines, closer to the dig, most of the armor farther down the beach, away from their current shelter.

  “Does it matter?” asked Laura, exasperated, pulling on his arm. “Let’s go!”

  He heard gears grinding then a loud roar as a vehicle began to move.

  And he recognized the sound.

  The front loaders!

  His heart began to race as he realized what was happening, and that he had to stop it. Turning to Laura, he grabbed the arm that was holding his. “They’re going to use the dozers to
move the gold!”

  She paused for a moment as she processed the words. “They’ll destroy the boat!”

  Both of them turned and ran up the embankment, the scientists in them suddenly oblivious to the danger, instead determined to protect their dig from wanton destruction. As Acton cleared the top he skidded to a halt, holding an arm out to stop Laura from falling over the other side.

  It was chaos, like a scene from a war movie. It was nearly pitch dark, the massive floodlights from earlier turned off, and only a hint of the sun on the horizon to his left. In front however the light was provided by firepower and devastation. Several armored vehicles were aflame on both sides. Tracer fire crisscrossed from one bank to the other as heavy machine guns exchanged fire. Muzzle flashes from the large weapons were accompanied by the smaller flashes from other automatic weapons firing freely and it appeared mostly blindly.

  From his vantage point he could see the Eritrean troops were repositioning to the west. He peered into the darkness and a particularly bright flash highlighted the reason.

  “They’re trying to cross the river!” He pointed for Laura’s benefit then whipped back toward the dig site when he heard the second loader begin to move forward. Starting down the embankment, he was about to shout at them to stop when a terrific explosion not fifty feet away knocked him off his feet then showered him in sand. “Laura!” he cried, spinning around to look for her. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw her only a few feet away, sitting up and brushing the sand off. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded then smiled. “I think it blasted some sand up my knickers, though.”

  Acton grinned then turned his attention back to their Roman prize just as the first massive scoop hit the ground, rushing toward the hull.

  “It’s been hit!” Laura pointed at the enlarged hole. “There’s debris everywhere!”

  “So much for preserving the integrity of the dig,” sighed Acton as he watched the first scoop dig into the boat, disappearing from sight. As the driver continued to push forward, obviously trying to get as much as he could in a single scoop, he suddenly stopped, jamming the vehicle in reverse and pulling out, the scoop, tipping up and rising as he did so, and as soon as he was cleared the second vehicle repeated the process, only to the left of where the first loader had dug. Acton could already see most of the gold that had been in sight was now gone, and as the vehicle turned toward him, he caught a glimpse of the driver.

  Dawson!

  He grabbed Laura by the arm and pulled her toward the embankment, pushing her up from behind then tumbled after her, down the other side. Moments later the first of the massive vehicles roared over the same hill at an incredible angle, the weight of the scoop and its cargo the only thing preventing it from tumbling ass over end. Clearing the top, it dropped like a rock, the front scoop hammering into the ground, the vehicle steadying itself after several bounces, then turning toward the village Dawson had indicated earlier. The second loader cleared the embankment, repeating the precarious balancing act of the first, then turned to follow.

  Acton ran after it, waving at who he assumed was Niner. He heard the gears grind as it came to a halt, the cabin door opening, Niner’s face poking out.

  “Hey, Doc, aren’t you supposed to be halfway to the village by now?” he asked in his ever cheery voice.

  Acton climbed onto the vehicle, pulling Laura up beside him. “You know me, I always have to be in the thick of it!”

  Niner laughed then returned to the cabin, the gears grinding as he pushed the beast forward again. Gunfire and artillery shells could still be heard above the din of the diesel engine, but as they turned away from the river and began to head north, deeper into Eritrean territory, the sounds of war were replaced with the still of the harsh landscape. It didn’t take long for them to catch up to the main group of civilians who had fled earlier. Both vehicles stopped and took on as many as could find places to perch, then continued toward the village.

  Niner came to a halt, honking his horn at the lead vehicle, it too coming to a halt, Dawson climbing out of the cabin to see Niner pointing at the horizon. Two dozen bright lights were streaking across the sky from the east, and within moments a squadron of F/A-18E Super Hornet fighters roared overhead on full afterburners. The crowd cheered, fists raised in the air as missiles streaked from their weapons pods, hammering the Ethiopian positions in the distance, the horizon flashing in protest as the unmatched weaponry of the United States Navy overwhelmed the light from the rapidly rising sun. Minutes later the planes, their payloads spent, ripped across the sky on their return to their carrier, several remaining behind, patrolling the area, unchallenged.

  In the distance to the east, the thumping of helicopter blades ripped across the landscape, and within minutes a dozen Black Hawk helicopters rushed by, two of them splitting off from the main group, banking back toward the refugees and landing, a dozen Marines jumping out of each, quickly securing the area.

  Acton jumped down as Dawson helped Reese out of the cramped cab of his loader. They walked over to greet the commanding officer, Reese looking weathered but alive. Handshakes rather than salutes were exchanged, Dawson and Niner’s true background not being acknowledged.

  “Report!” snapped Reese as she arrived. The Captain’s eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly, his eyes darting to Dawson who nodded slightly.

  “Ma’am, I’m Captain Hastings. The Ethiopian forces have been pacified, their attempt to cross the river halted. Ground and air superiority have been established, there is no further threat. I just received a report that the other forces moving into the area have turned around. Apparently with the gold gone, there’s no point in staying.”

  “Excellent work, Captain,” replied Reese, visibly relaxing. She turned to Dawson. “And thanks to you and your partner,” she said, nodding toward Niner. “Your quick thinking would have prevented a war if the Navy hadn’t arrived.”

  Dawson bowed slightly. “Thank you, ma’am.” He turned to Acton. “Sorry for destroying your boat, Doc, but the Ethiopians were already doing a good job of it.”

  Acton shrugged. “You made the right decision. We’ll go back and survey the site, retrieve the rest of the gold. I’m sure there’re still lots of things that can be recovered, especially now that the time constraints have been eliminated.”

  Reese clapped her hands, waving the crowd in.

  “I’m sorry people, but we still have jobs to do. We’ll return to the site as soon as the military declares it safe. I want a head count though before we do anything else.” She snapped her fingers at someone, diving into the crowd, leaving Acton and Laura with the Delta operators and the newly arrived Marines.

  “How bad was it?” asked the Captain, then spotting the gold in Niner’s scoop, he whistled, the question forgotten. “Jesus,” he whispered, picking one of the gold bars up. “Heavier than you’d think.”

  Acton nodded, picking a couple up, tossing them to Dawson and Niner. “That’s how you can pan for gold. It’s so much heavier than the normal silt in a river that it sinks to the bottom, allowing you to wash away the sand.”

  “Amazing,” said Dawson as he tossed the bar back in the scoop.

  “How much do you think this is worth?” asked Niner as he continued to toss his from hand to hand, marveling at the weight.

  “That’s about a kilo, which is roughly thirty-five ounces and an ounce of gold is around thirteen hundred bucks so almost fifty grand.”

  “Holy shit!” Niner batted the bar into the scoop as if it were suddenly red hot. “No wonder people kill for this shit.”

  Reese walked up to them. “And today wasn’t any different. It looks like we’re missing twelve people. Hopefully they’re fine and still at the site.”

  “I saw one civvy definitely buy it,” said Niner. “The guy who was talking to you, a little hefty.”

  Acton’s jaw slackened as he felt his stomach hollow out. “Tucker?”

  “I don’t know, you were talking to him in the tent. Frie
nd of yours?”

  Acton shook his head. “We just met him on the helicopter on the way in. Nice guy.” He felt sick, flashbacks of Peru filling his thoughts. He had been around a lot of death over the past few years, but rarely was it someone he knew, and someone he liked.

  Except Peru.

  He felt Laura squeeze his hand and he looked at her, her own eyes glistening. He turned to Reese. “Let’s get back there and check on the others.”

  Reese nodded, pointing to the two loaders filled with gold. “Captain, I trust I can leave these in your capable hands?”

  Captain Hastings smiled. “Absolutely, ma’am. You can always trust the United States Navy.”

  Niner opened his mouth to deliver what Acton had no doubt would be a spectacular wise crack about how the army was superior, but Dawson grabbed him by the jaw before a word could come out.

  “Let’s get going before someone puts his foot in it.”

  Lucius Valerius Corvus Residence, Pompeii, Roman Empire

  August 25th, 79 AD

  The ground shook with a sudden jolt, sending Valerius to the floor, his elbow hitting the marble hard causing him to wince in pain. He heard yells and rolled over to see the front entry columns snap in the middle, the tops collapsing and shattering on the unforgiving floor, shards skidding across the tiles.

  Followed moments later by the entire front of the house.

  The tons of stone and wood used to construct the roof years ago collapsed with an initial hesitation followed by the roar of massive cracking and tearing. The soldiers still moving the gold tried to scramble out of the way, some hurling themselves toward the rear of the room, futilely, the entire event taking only seconds. Valerius jumped to his feet, rushing toward those brave men but felt someone grab his shoulder armor, yanking him back to safety as the dust from the collapse, mixed with the ash that had accumulated on the roof, rolled toward them like a bank of fog, enveloping them in a dark gray cloud.