The Thirteenth Legion (A James Acton Thriller, #15) (James Acton Thrillers)

by J. Robert Kennedy

  Control Center, Denier Installation, Iceland

  “Advance another ten millimeters.”

  Acton’s heart pounded hard, the sweat beading on his forehead ignored, the back of his shirt damp. The excitement in the room was electric, even the once monotone drone of the announcements over the PA now laced with adrenaline.

  The needle had moved.

  Something had happened.

  They had paused for nearly five minutes to review the readings, to see if anything else would happen, but nothing had. The needle had jumped slightly as the skulls moved toward each other, then settled back at zero.

  Laura’s nails dug into his shoulders, the pain finally making itself felt. He patted her hand and she immediately eased up.

  “Sorry.”

  He shook his head, dismissing the unnecessary apology, instead his eyes shifting from the monitor showing the skulls moving almost imperceptibly forward, to the readout in front of him, his hand hovering near, though not over, the kill switch.

  The needle jumped.

  Gasps and aborted cheers erupted before it immediately settled back down to zero.

  But it was enough.

  Acton was convinced.

  There was something to this.

  Could the Triarii history be accurate, and not just a misinterpretation of past events, or worse, a boldfaced lie? Could London indeed have been nearly destroyed in 1212 because three of these had been placed next to each other? The story told to him by Rodney Underwood had been that there was a humming sound that was ignored, then eventually a massive explosion. Could this delayed reaction be what they were seeing?

  His chest tightened and his mouth went dry as a thought occurred to him.

  “Umm, Martin.”

  Chaney held up a hand, cutting off Acton as he discussed the latest results in a huddle with several scientists. They broke, Chaney striding quickly over to Acton’s station. “Yes?”

  He sounded impatient.

  And excited.

  His eyes were filled with a fervor that Acton had only seen in fanatics.

  And it was perfectly understandable.

  He felt it himself.

  “I assume you’ve confirmed these aren’t instrument malfunctions.”

  Chaney nodded. “Of course.”

  “Then shouldn’t we be mindful of what happened in London?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “In 1212.”

  Chaney’s eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

  “If I remember Rodney’s explanation”—a momentary flash of shame and anguish clouded Chaney’s face at the mention of his old friend’s name—“he said there was a humming sound before the explosion, and I believe there was some time between the explosion and the skulls being placed together.”

  Chaney pursed his lips, taking a slow breath as he considered Acton’s words. “Yes, actually, that’s right. Why?”

  “Well, these spikes that are happening, could it be a delayed reaction of some sort? I mean, could things be building up that we don’t realize, and before we know it, there’ll be a sudden release that we can’t control?”

  One of the scientists stepped over, apparently having listened in. “We’re showing no indication of any buildup within the skulls, and the system is designed to handle a surge.”

  “How much energy has been produced so far?” asked Laura.

  “Very little.” The scientist motioned with her tablet at the lights overhead. “Not even enough to power these lights for a few seconds.”

  Acton felt his tension ease somewhat. If they were dealing with such a small release each time, then it would suggest any buildup to this point—if there was any at all—would be equally insignificant. “Where’s the power going?”

  “Into a set of large capacitors that then drain.”

  “How much power can these capacitors hold?”

  “A lot, but if they’re overloaded, these large dishes”—she pointed overhead to an array of what Acton had mistakenly assumed were satellite dishes—“can transmit the energy harmlessly as microwaves.”

  Acton nodded. “And their capacity?”

  The scientist smiled. “Massive. Don’t worry, Professor Acton, we’ve been planning this for a long time.” She turned to Chaney, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And it looks like it’s about to pay off.” She returned to her station, Chaney’s eyes following her, Acton getting a sense there might be some budding romance between the two. Chaney’s eyes returned to his guests.

  “Satisfied?”

  “As much as I can be, I guess.” Acton looked at the man, feeling his excitement building within himself. “I guess you were right.”

  Chaney grinned like a child. “It would appear so.” The grin faded. “I just wish the Proconsul were here to see it.” He sighed. “And all the others who had to die to make this happen.”

  Main Venting Port, Denier Installation, Iceland

  “Come out to the coast, we’ll get together, have a few laughs,” muttered Niner, channeling his best Bruce Willis imitation as he crawled through the narrow ductwork, a steady hot breeze pushing against him, though nothing serious. He activated his comm. “Zero-Seven, One-One. Just wanted to report that there’s no way your ample hips would have fit in here, over.”

  “One-One, I’ll have you know big hips run in my family so I feel no shame.”

  “So, what you’re saying is”—Niner channeled his inner Kat Graham—“I got it from my mama, I got it, got it, g-got it?”

  “Please stop singing, you’re killing me.”

  Niner pushed forward, nearing a grate marking the end of the shaft. “So, back to your mama’s hips. I’ve met your mama, she’s got much nicer hips than yours.”

  “I agree,” said Spock. “Much nicer.”

  “Can we please stop talking about my mama’s hips? I’m going to have to crack some skulls if this keeps up.”

  Niner grinned as he reached the grate. “Now, your sister. She’s definitely got your mama’s hips.”

  “That’s it, BD, I’m killing him when we get out of here.”

  “Use of deadly force is authorized,” came Dawson’s reply.

  Niner peered through the grate and frowned. “That’s okay, Spock will help me.”

  “I’m out of this. You’re the one who brought up the man’s sister.”

  “All I suggested was that she was a fine looking woman.”

  “Which means you think his mother is a fine looking woman,” replied Spock. “Like I said, I’m out of this. Your skinny little ass is on its own.”

  “Yeah,” rumbled Atlas, “a skinny little ass that I now own.”

  Niner pushed gently on the grate. “Again with the flattery. Now, if you two don’t mind, I’d like to report.”

  “Please!” replied Dawson.

  “Okay. I’m at the end of this shaft. Looks like some sort of mechanical room or something. There’s a big ass fan in our way but it’s barely moving.”

  “Can you shut it down?”

  Niner examined the blades. There was no way he’d be able to do any real work, the spinning blades blocking access, though a small charge shoved into the right place would work. A big charge on the center of the blade would definitely work. “Yeah, but it could be loud. Give me a—” He froze, the sound of the fan’s motor kicking into a higher gear sending his heart racing. “Shit!”

  “What?”

  “It’s speeding up.”

  “Then stop talking about the Atlas family’s hips and blow that thing.”

  “Roger that.” He punched the corner of the grate, it popping loose, he catching it before it fell to the floor below. The fan was going full force now, almost taking his breath away. He reached behind him, feeling for a charge, gripping the smaller package, then paused.

  Go big or go home.

  He grabbed the larger device.

  “It’s gonna be loud!”

  Control Center, Denier Installation, Iceland

  “Adv
ance another ten millimeters.”

  Laura’s eyes were glued to the skulls overhead. She could recognize the one she had studied for years at the British Museum, its familiar grinning face almost comforting among the tension and excitement of the situation. Yes, they were here voluntarily, or at least that was what she had told herself. The reality was Chaney had insisted they come, then when they had protested, resorted to tempting them with being a part of history.

  And it had worked.

  She had to admit she was stunned that James had been the first to cave. The skulls had been part of her life’s work, not his. The skulls had brought them nothing but pain since they met, and before that, for her, mockery and snickers behind her back. Her scientific papers on the skulls had all been discredited after the Triarii had substituted the genuine skulls for fakes before the BBC arranged testing, and ever since then, the entire field of study considered quackery. Even she had relegated the carving to a storage room, picking up the pieces of a nearly shattered career.

  Yet she had persevered, the past now forgotten among her peers, she now occupying a prestigious post at the Smithsonian, a post that allowed her and James to share a life together, a life she wouldn’t trade for the world.

  She looked down at him in his chair, it clear he shared the excitement she felt, his hand, hovering over the kill switch, shaking from the adrenaline that fueled them all.

  The needle jumped.

  Her lungs burned.

  She took a breath, not realizing she had been holding it, then pointed at the read out.

  “Look!”

  The needle had jumped then immediately settled back down.

  Though not to zero.

  Definitely not zero.

  “Something’s happening!” shouted James, but the room knew it, the scientists shouting out numbers, pointing at displays, the entire room abuzz with excitement. She glanced over her shoulder at the security cameras covering the facility and noted not a sole were attending to their duties, everyone from guards to clerks standing, staring up at the nearest loud speaker or monitor, history in the making.

  Thank God James made me come!

  Her beliefs were being borne out, her secret beliefs that she had only ever shared with her husband, and even then only partially. She knew, she had always known, that there was something special, something unexplainable about these sculptures, and now their power was being revealed.

  The scientist in her desperately wanted to know the reason, how these pieces of crystal were generating power, but the child inside wanted to simply enjoy the moment of wonder, the moment where a little magic, a little fantasy, a little science fiction, became real.

  Her chest heaved as she stifled a sob.

  “What’s wrong?” asked James, staring up at her, taking her hand.

  “I-I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’m just so…so”—she shrugged, wiping away a tear—“overwhelmed.”

  He smiled up at her, patting her hand. “I understand.”

  And she knew he did. This man understood her like no other, like none had before, and she was so grateful to the skulls that surrounded them for bringing them together. She stared up, picking out the skull he had discovered in Peru, the skull that had caused so much death and destruction, yet had united two people who would have never met otherwise, and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer of thanks.

  “Did you hear that?” asked James.

  “Huh?”

  “Ten kilowatts is being generated.”

  Her eyebrows popped. “Is that a lot?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, but they sure seem excited.” He raised his voice. “Martin, what’s happening?”

  Chaney turned toward them, beaming a smile. “Ten kilowatts, and it’s steady!”

  Laura leaned over and hugged her husband, closing her eyes, fully committing to the excitement around them. There was no longer any shame in her beliefs, in her years spent studying the skulls, in her secret, childish beliefs that someday the secrets of the skulls would be revealed when mankind was ready.

  Mankind was ready.

  Today.

  And the secrets of the crystal skulls were being revealed, once and for all.

  She sighed, contentedly, the stress slowly easing as she watched the needle, steady, above zero, with no signs of a dangerous spike or buildup. But now the bigger questions needed to be asked. The fact they were generating power proved they were in fact genuine, not carved by conmen over a century ago to peddle to wealthy but naïve Europeans. And if they were genuine, then someone had created them.

  But who?

  Atlanteans, aliens, some pre-cursor civilization thousands or millions of years ago?

  She believed in aliens, it simply unfathomable to her that life couldn’t exist elsewhere, especially with so many planets already having been discovered so close to their own solar system, though she had a hard time believing they would drop thirteen skulls around a planet millennia ago then leave.

  Some sort of alien reality show? Let’s see how the stupid humans react?

  She thought of the theory some scientists postulated that the entire universe as we knew it was an artificial construct, they actually designing experiments to prove whether we were in reality inside a Matrix style creation.

  With the machines manipulating the events, the skulls nothing but simulated neurons firing in artificial brains.

  Chaney suddenly hugged her, she not even noticing he had walked over to them, she so engrossed in her thoughts, staring up in wonder at the thirteen eerie faces that were about to change the world.

  “We did it!” he cried, slapping James on the back as everyone in the control room exchanged hugs and high fives. “They are an energy source!”

  She smiled, shaking her head. “I can’t believe it!”

  “I never doubted it!” Chaney returned back to the group, the woman from earlier planting a kiss on him that would melt the icebergs offshore.

  Laura leaned over and delivered the same to the man she loved. “Thanks for convincing me to come.”

  He smiled at her. “Is that how it happened?”

  The entire room shuddered, the revelry immediately halted.

  “Report!” shouted Chaney as Laura glanced up at the skulls then down at the needle, still holding steady.

  An alarm suddenly sounded and James slapped the kill switch. Her head quickly tilted back and she watched the arms the skulls were mounted to rapidly retract, the skulls disappearing into orbs that she assumed were the nonconductive holding chambers that Chaney had referred to before.

  “Look.”

  She glanced down and saw James pointing to the readout.

  Zero.

  “The cooling plant just went offline!” shouted someone, pointing at a readout.

  “That was no failure, that was an explosion,” said Chaney. “Do we have cameras in that area?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Laura turned to see a large display switch from a view of the skulls to a CCTV image of a room filled with pipes, cables and other bulky equipment.

  Along with men, dressed in black, dropping from an air vent.

  “That’s Bravo Team,” whispered James, standing and putting a protective arm around her.

  “Get security down there, now!” ordered Chaney. “Detain them if you can, kill them if you have to. And double the exterior guard. There’s probably more outside.”

  James stepped forward. “Wait! You know these men. They’re Bravo Team. They’re obviously here for us.”

  Chaney spun toward him, rage in his eyes, the rage a zealot displayed when his plans were interfered with.

  It was chilling.

  Chaney pointed at the two guards manning the door. “Secure them.”

  The two men advanced, grabbing them both by an arm and hauling them back toward the door and away from any of the terminals.

  James yanked his arm loose, pointing a finger at Chaney. “Hey, this wasn’t our deal!”

  “The
deal is off. I can no longer trust that you’ll do what’s best for the experiment now that your friends have arrived.” Chaney pointed at the screen. “Nothing stops what we are doing here tonight. Nothing!”

  “Just hand us over and they’ll leave, I guarantee it!”

  “It’s too late for that now.” Chaney turned his back on them. “Resume the experiment from the previous position. Now!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Laura stared up as the protective pods opened, the skulls reemerging, steadily advancing toward each other.

  “Look!” hissed James, nodding toward the power read out. It was steadily climbing, higher than it ever had before. Laura felt her chest begin to tighten, her sense of joy and wonder from moments ago now lost.

  Caution had been dismissed, panic had taken over.

  Which meant mistakes could be made.

  And James was no longer the source of reason, his kill switch now far out of reach.

  “We have reached the pre-abort position.”

  Laura glanced over at the needle and saw it immediately drop, settling to where it had been before Delta had arrived. She turned to the security feeds, the Delta team advancing, another showing a large security detail rushing their way.

  Be careful!

  Mechanical Room, Denier Installation, Iceland

  Niner dropped to the floor, raising his weapon and scanning the area from the new perspective, his perch from above already suggesting the room was empty, though it wouldn’t be for long, not with the size of the explosion that had just occurred.

  To his right, the fan blade still vibrated from the impact, it now embedded deeply in the concrete wall, several important looking cables severed, the mangled mess of the cooling system above him hanging on by a wire, ready to collapse at any moment. Dawson, Spock and Leather silently dropped from the duct above.

  “We better book, I’m pretty sure they heard that,” said Niner, pointing toward the only door in the room.

  Spock cocked an eyebrow. “Ya think?”

  Niner gave him a look then snap-kicked him to the chest before stepping back, spreading his arms out to herd Dawson and Leather out of the way as the rest of the cooling unit smashed into the floor, the lone cable above finally giving out.