Having no track record in these things, however, he had no idea whether they would.
He just knew which outcome he was hoping for.
She’s incredible.
She was gorgeous, his type definitely Asian, and she was the first woman he had ever slept with that he was pretty sure could give him a run for his money in the ass kicking department, should he ever cross her.
The woman had skills.
She just couldn’t use them.
He stopped his slow scan of the crowd, moving the scope back slightly. “There you are.”
“Who?”
“Sorry, babe, gotta go. I’ll see you soon.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Kane chuckled. “You know me too well. Bye, babe.”
“Bye.”
He ended the call and squeezed the trigger, twice, putting two bullets into Aziz Kanaan, the mastermind behind the New York City attacks. Scrambling back from the edge of the roof, he rolled to his feet, dropping his weapon down a vent for later retrieval by a CIA lackey, then rushing down the back stairs to the street below as his special-issue Agency watch sent an electric pulse to his wrist. Pressing the buttons in a coded sequence, a message scrolled across the face.
Reading?
A pit formed in his stomach as he realized there was only one reason the Interpol agent would be contacting him.
Something’s happened to the professors.
St. George’s Hill, Weybridge, Surrey, United Kingdom
“Is everyone in position?”
Chaney watched through binoculars as the teams sounded off in his earpiece, then receiving the final confirmation, he gave the signal. “Proceed.”
Immediately the exterior guards began to drop, one, two, sometimes three at a time as several sniper positions surrounding the estate opened up on men he had once thought of as comrades. He closed his eyes for a moment, tears threatening to cloud his vision as the last of almost two dozen went down, not a shot fired by their enemy.
For there had been nothing to fire at.
He stepped into the four-by-four, closing the passenger door as his teams raced through the gates, the lock blasted the moment the assault had begun. The long drive left nowhere to hide—they were sitting ducks if their enemy decided to retaliate, but no one did, the only sound their tires skidding on the gravel, then their boots on the same as they jumped out and rushed toward the main doors, other teams continuing to the sides and rear of the building.
And still, nothing.
Suddenly an alarm sounded and floodlights bathed the entire area in a harsh glow, a glow that only lasted moments as the sniper teams took out the bulbs, quickly plunging them back into darkness, one finally locating and eliminating the last speaker blaring the warning.
An eerie silence settled over the area, faint emergency lighting and a full moon providing the only illumination.
He motioned toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Small charges fired at the windows, detonating on impact as two men rushed the doors, carefully placing explosives on the lock then taking cover. Chaney delivered a hand signal and the charges detonated. Stun grenades fired through the shattered windows, several tossed through the gaping doors, the resulting explosions deafening, even from outside.
And still not a shot fired in response.
Something’s wrong.
Acton sat in a chair set against a wall, Laura beside him. The control center they were in had dozens of monitors and about half a dozen men, including the Proconsul and Rodney, the action outside unfolding like a reality show before them. Occupying each of the four corners were crystal skulls, the Oracles of Jupiter and Zeus, the skull he had found in Peru, and the thirteenth skull he had just delivered.
He shivered.
Maybe he’s right.
He interrupted the Proconsul’s hushed conversation. “Shouldn’t you be moving those?”
The Proconsul turned toward him. “Pardon me?”
“The skulls, shouldn’t you be moving them?” He nodded toward the monitors. “It doesn’t appear to be going well for you.”
“No.” The Proconsul turned back to the monitors, his conversation resuming as if never interrupted.
Acton turned to Laura, lowering his voice. “Mighty confident, aren’t they?”
Laura leaned closer, their heads touching. “They don’t seem to be putting up much of a fight. I don’t understand. They don’t seem concerned at all.”
Acton cleared his throat. “Why aren’t you fighting back?”
“Give it time,” said the Proconsul, not bothering to face Acton. “How many?”
“We’ve counted twenty-four,” replied Rodney, Acton straining to hear. “Twelve inside, the rest outside, surrounding the building.”
“And the sniper teams?”
“They’ve already repositioned inside the grounds.”
The Proconsul turned toward Acton, smiling.
“Activate the automatic external defenses.”
Klaus Becker gripped his MP5K submachine gun tightly, his eyes watching the perimeter like a hawk, this operation going far too smoothly, the complete lack of response running contrary to all the briefings they had received. He and his men had been training these civilians for months now, teaching them self-defense, weapons and tactics—essentially everything they’d need for this very night.
Yet so far, it appeared there had been little need. His sniper teams had done the work so far, with his clients simply standing back and watching the action.
Until Martin Chaney, their leader, had ordered Becker’s men to remain outside.
A mistake.
If ever there would be a place their foes would defend, it would be the interior of the building. The lack of resistance had him wondering if anyone was actually inside, perhaps all the defenses placed outside.
Though that would be foolish.
And he didn’t think his enemy was foolish.
He wasn’t so certain about his clients.
These men seemed normal, except for the fact they didn’t think in terms of surviving their mission. They seemed only to think in terms of the mission succeeding, apparently unconcerned with their own survival.
They simply wanted to retrieve an item, even if it meant only a single man surviving.
And it was an item he had no intel on.
It might as well be a black box.
But he had to admit he didn’t care. So far, there hadn’t been a single casualty among his men, and their time was handsomely paid for. In this business, you didn’t ask too many questions.
Something moved in the corner of his eye and he cursed.
“Take cover!” he shouted, leaping through the blown out window beside him as hidden machine guns popped out of the ground and opened fire. He heard the cries of his men as they were mowed down, the gunfire intense but brief, the sudden silence indicating the automated defense system had finished its job.
His men dead, his clients all safe inside the building.
A rage built inside him.
“What the hell was that?” asked Acton, leaping to his feet to get a closer look at the monitors, the dozen men outside made quick work of by something or someone.
“Sentry guns. They eliminate anything that moves,” explained Rodney.
“Jesus, I hope they don’t malfunction.” Acton’s eyes narrowed as he turned his attention from the monitors to the Proconsul. “Why didn’t you use them when they arrived?”
The Proconsul stared at him for a moment. “You keep forgetting, Professor, that we have a plan.”
Laura took Acton’s hand. “Where are the other skulls?”
“What other skulls?”
“The other skulls. I thought you had all thirteen now?”
The Proconsul stared at her, his eyes slightly narrowed. “It would appear you have been misinformed. These are all the skulls that remain under our protection. The others have all been lost to Martin Chaney and his Deniers.”
Acton’s jaw dropped slightly as he looked at Laura.
Are we on the wrong side of this?
Chaney surged forward, his weapon raised in front of him as he and his team advanced deeper into the large building, Becker reporting over his comm what had just occurred outside.
Yet there was nothing that could be done about that.
“We’ll disable the defenses when we take the control room.”
“Roger that, sir. Our drones’ infrared are still showing only a few hotspots above ground. It’s most likely in the basement.”
“Agreed. We’ll clear the upper levels first before we attempt to take the lower.”
Someone rounded the corner and Chaney squeezed off a round, taking the surprised man out.
He sighed.
I’m sorry, old friend.
Acton jabbed a finger at the monitors. “You have to evacuate! They’re slaughtering them.”
The Proconsul glanced at him, then returned his attention to the screens. “Everyone here today volunteered for this. If we don’t put up a good show, then they’ll realize what our plan is.”
Acton paused, processing what the Proconsul had just said. “I thought it was to end this once and for all?”
“It is.”
Acton shook his head, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re succeeding.”
The Proconsul turned to him, smiling. “Looks can be deceiving.”
Chaney stepped behind the corner as a rather large charge blasted open the doors to the control center. His team surged in, he directly behind them, several shots heard through the haze.
“Cease fire!” he shouted, slapping down the two nearest weapons, both aimed at the professors. “They’re not the enemy.”
“But you appear to be.”
Chaney glanced at Acton, ignoring his statement, then strode to the center of the room, Rodney glaring at him, the Proconsul simply looking disappointed.
In him.
He had to admit the disappointment in the old man’s face hit home, this a man he had looked up to for years, a man who was now his enemy.
Perhaps when this is all over…
Chaney pointed at the skulls. “Get them ready.” He pointed at another one of his men. “Disable the automated sentry guns then destroy the equipment.”
Acton stepped forward. “I thought you were supposed to be the good guys.”
He turned to the defiant professor. “We are.”
“You just slaughtered a bunch of people—”
“As they would have done to us if the roles were reversed.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
Chaney sighed. “Professor Acton, what do you think happened here today?”
“I think your breakaway group has managed to destroy the Triarii from within.”
Chaney shook his head. “No, Professor, the Triarii as you have known it is the breakaway group.” Acton’s eyebrows leapt and Laura gasped. “Our mission, the Triarii’s mission, from the beginning, as given to us by our greatest sage, Ananias, was to seek out and find the skulls in order to discover their power. He told us there were thirteen, so we sought them out. It was only when the third was discovered and united with the first two that we had the disaster in London.” Chaney glanced at the Proconsul. “That was when we lost our way. Instead of continuing our search to bring the skulls together, we let fear rule us, instead finding them so we could keep them apart.
“A few of us through the centuries, however, continued with the original mandate, in the hopes that one day man would reach the technological level to harness the power the skulls are capable of. We were labelled renegades, spoken of with derision, the membership taught to believe we Deniers were going against everything the Triarii stood for. But nothing could be further from the truth.”
The fact Acton wasn’t interrupting him suggested he might just be getting through to the man, so he pressed on, something deep inside him hoping that if he could convince Acton of the truth, then he would pass this message on to his friend, so Reading would realize he was still a good man, not the traitor he feared his old partner now thought of him as. “Do you know why they call us the Deniers?”
Acton shook his head slightly.
“It is not because we deny that there is any risk to uniting the skulls as they would have you believe, it is because we deny that the current mandate of the Triarii is its genuine mandate. Everything we have done is to return us to the old ways. We are the true Triarii, not the people led by this false proconsul.”
Acton’s voice was slightly subdued. “So you now have all thirteen skulls?”
Chaney nodded. “Yes.”
“So it was you who killed to get them?”
Chaney felt his chest tighten, his eyes staring at the floor for a moment as a wave of shame swept over him. “Unfortunately it was necessary. Everyone we have killed has been a brother to us, and it pains me deeply that so many had to die, but we had no choice.”
The Proconsul’s voice suddenly boomed. “Your arrogance is unbecoming. We have witnessed the destructive power. We have long said that until we know what the origin of the skulls is, we are not ready to understand their purpose. Before we have the answers to even the most basic of questions, we are not ready to harness their power.” He pointed a finger at Chaney. “And you’re selective with your history. Our scrolls tell us that our mission was to remove the original skull from Rome and keep it as far from there as possible. The sage you speak of was considered a fool by many, a curiosity by the rest. He was well liked, yes, but his final words were recorded merely because they related to the skulls and were curious in nature. Yes, we sought out the other skulls he referred to, but not until the accidental discovery of a second one in Greece, centuries later. You conveniently cherry pick phrases from the scrolls to suit your belief system. You’ve co-opted our original, noble purpose, and twisted it into a dark quest to seek a truth we may not be ready to learn, risking all of mankind to do it.”
Chaney drew a deep breath, pursing his lips as he considered the Proconsul and what to do with him. He exhaled, a decision made. “I see there is no convincing you.” He raised his weapon, aiming it at the Proconsul.
“No!” Rodney leapt in front of the Proconsul, a burst of gunfire erupting from Chaney’s left, Rodney dropping to the floor, clutching at his chest.
“No!” cried Chaney, shoving the shooter toward the door as Laura cried out, rushing to Rodney’s side, Acton stepping in front of the Proconsul. “Take the skulls to the vehicles, I want everyone out of this room, now!”
Acton glared at him. “You’ve got what you came for. Enough people have died, so why don’t you just leave?”
Chaney nodded slowly, his eyes glued to Rodney’s as the man gasped his last breaths. “He was one of my best friends before this all started.” He looked at the Proconsul. “I truly am sorry.” He held up his weapon. “Tranquilizer darts. I could never kill you. You’ve been my mentor for over a decade, a man I admire. If you could just see past the beliefs you’ve been indoctrinated with and join us, we could discover the truth together.”
The Proconsul said nothing, though his anger was clear, Laura glancing up from Rodney and shaking her head. Chaney knelt at his old friend’s side, gripping the man’s shoulder and squeezing it. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. He looked up at the Proconsul. “Sir, please, you are welcome to join us to witness what we are about to do. You’ve always been our leader, and I will always think of you as such. I don’t blame you. You didn’t lose your way, that was lost eight hundred years ago and you’ve merely continued the mistake our ancestors made.”
The Proconsul stared down at Rodney then at Chaney. “You have all the skulls, and your people have drained most of our accounts. We are but a shadow of what we once were. I have failed in my duty, and am the leader of what is now nothing. Take what you came for. We are done.”
Chaney’s heart slammed hard, the words painful to he
ar, the tone they were delivered with suggesting a finality that indicated there would be no changing this man’s mind. “As you wish.” Chaney stood, turning to Acton. “Coming?”
Acton’s eyebrows popped. “Huh? Of course not!”
“I’m afraid I must insist.”
Laura rose and Acton placed himself in front of her. “Why?”
“Because as long as you are with us, they won’t try anything that risks your lives. They’re like that to a fault.”
“You used to be.”
“And will be again. Professor, if we succeed, the world we live in tomorrow will not be the same one we live in today. Don’t you want to be witness to that?”
Acton’s head dropped slightly as he drew a breath, his eyes focused like lasers on Chaney’s. “Of course I do. But the reality is that I expect you to put thirteen balls of glass next to each other then wonder why you went to all the trouble to recreate a disco!”
“James!”
Chaney laughed. “Oh, Professor, I’ve missed you. You are right, of course, to doubt. We don’t know what will happen, but we do know that three unleashed enough power to reduce half of London to rubble eight hundred years ago. We also know that the Great Fire of Rome began the night the first skull arrived there. It nearly destroyed the greatest city the world had ever known to that point. Don’t you want to know why you shiver every time you look at one of them? The Triarii have refused to study them, considering it almost a sacrilege. We will test this. We want to know the answers to the questions they don’t dare to ask. Come with me, Professor, and help us discover the truth.”
Acton sucked in a breath, Chaney sensing he was winning the notoriously curious man to his side. “And what if nothing happens?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if nothing happens, and this all turns out to be for naught, what will you do?”
Chaney shook his head. “That won’t happen.”
The Thirteenth Legion (A James Acton Thriller, #15) (James Acton Thrillers) Page 10