Operation Rubicon

by Preston William Child

  Nina reached into the hole she had dug, right through the dirt and muck that had been beneath the Colosseum for thousands of years. She was pushing her hand through mud that the people who built the Colosseum might have stepped on. She was reaching straight into the depths of long dead history, searching for the remnants of an ancient civilization. She just hoped that it was the piece of the old world that she wanted to find. She took hold of whatever was down there, and brushed some dirt out of the way to get a better look at it.

  It was a chest made of stone. Nina heaved it from the earth and placed it down beside the hole she had dug. Everyone gathered around her, looking down at the discovery. Given its size, it could definitely contain a sword. The box had writings and symbols carved into it, most of it was written in Latin. That was one dead language that Nina was relatively familiar with. But she didn't need to read the rest of the words to get excited. She saw Caesar's name carved into the stone.

  Her palms were sweating but she grabbed the top of the chest and pulled it open. The smell inside wasn't pleasant. It was musty and rank, but she shouldn't have been too surprised considering how long it had apparently been buried in the dirt. That chest had been hidden down there since long before the collapse of the Roman Empire.

  There was a sword resting inside of the stone box. It was a Roman gladius.

  “Is that?” Riley gasped.

  Elijah bent over to get a closer look, crouching right beside Nina. Nina looked to him for confirmation but he just pursed his lips and adjusted his glasses like he usually did when he was intrigued.

  “It’s certainly an old gladius.”

  “Well, of course it is,” Riley said with some exasperation. “But is it the one?”

  “It's got to be,” August chimed in from behind them. “We followed all of the clues that led to the sword of Caesar. We went to Egypt where Mark Antony took it. We went here where Commodus supposedly brought it. The only sword that would make sense is Caesar's.”

  “Or some gladiator might have buried a sword one time...” Elijah said but even he looked unconvinced by his own attempt to play devil's advocate. He flashed a big smile. It was so rare for him to smile like that; he must have been very excited. “Or...it really did belong to Julius Caesar himself.”

  Nina put her hand around the hilt of the gladius and pulled it up out of the box. It was so light and she was nervous that the rusty old blade was going to shatter if she shook it too hard. It’d been lying in a box for almost two thousand years and had aged as she expected.

  “We did it, didn't we?” Riley asked, looking both nervous and excited.

  Nina examined the sword in her hand. All of the breadcrumbs they’d followed, every detail that they’d tracked down led to beneath the Colosseum. And here they were, with a sword in their possession. “I think...I think we did.”

  “You did indeed,” a voice thundered from behind them.

  Three figures were stepping through the ruins of the Hypogeum. Their faces were gray and their expressions were frozen. Their eyes were solid and never moved. Nina recognized those faces immediately.

  “Forgive us for interrupting the precious moment,” the one in the center declared. Nina recognized him as the one who had ambushed her in the hotel room, Mr. Nero. He’d spoken the most to her by far.

  The others, Miss Caligula and Mr. Commodus, flanked him as they approached through the ruins until the three of them all stood shoulder to shoulder in front of Nina and her team. There was something so unnerving about three pairs of lifeless eyes of rock staring at them.

  “We couldn't help but watch from the audience,” Miss Caligula said, pointing up at the Colosseum's rows of stands all around the pit. “And what a show we got to see! For a minute there, I honestly didn't think you were going to find it. Was worried this would’ve just been another dead end.”

  “How long have you been following us?” Nina asked.

  The giant Mr. Commodus let out a booming laugh behind his mask.

  “Since the moment we left your hotel room,” Mr. Nero said. “Tailed you to the museum. Watched you dive out of that police car. That was quite the Houdini act you pulled on them. They're still probably looking for you. Then we followed you all the way here. To the Great Roman Colosseum itself. Who would’ve thought that Caesar's sword would be resting in a place like this? Resting in the same place that slaves and gladiators used to die. I don't know what Commodus was thinking...what do you think, Mr. Commodus? Do you know what your namesake had going through his head?”

  The lumbering Mr. Commodus shook his own head.

  “No, I don't either,” Mr. Nero said with a shrug. “But here we are all the same. I’d just like to thank you for finding it for us, Dr. Gould. Now it’s time to make good on the conversation we had in your bed, and give me the sword.”

  INTERLUDE 2 – THE MASK OF MR. NERO

  Salvatore Rizzo didn't consider himself Italian. He never had. He was descended from warriors, from conquerors. No, he wasn't Italian. He was Roman. A true Roman. He always had been. And he wanted all of the other Romans to remember what they were, too. He wanted them to cherish where they really came from, who they truly represented, and to act like they understood what that meant.

  So many people didn't even try to change the world. They didn't even try or even bother to consider what could happen if they did. They were just content being like the other seven billion people on the planet. There had been too many generations between them and their ancestors that had shed their blood from the Roman Empire. Too many families had forgotten their heritage. They’d disregarded what those who came before them had fought to preserve.

  Sal's family had never forgotten. From father to son, for hundreds of years, they were reminded of their great legacy. Sal's father had told him all about his hopes for the return of the true Rome. Sal had the same hopes as his father before him. They all believed in that dream until their dying breaths and Sal would believe in it too until that exact moment of his own. He hoped, though, that he’d see it come to fruition long before his death. Even better, if he could actively bring about Rome's return, then he would do all of his ancestors proud.

  He knew Ancient Rome hadn't been a perfect place, no place was, but the unity it brought to so many lands would be so beneficial in the divided world that surrounded him. The old Roman Empire, adapted for the modern world of course, was exactly what the planet needed. Divisions had become too thick and too extreme, where every minor country now was completely independent from each other. It inspired nothing but isolationism and made bitterness toward neighbors even more apparent. There was no common goal, no common ruler anymore.

  Legitimate empires were a thing of the past.

  ((CONCLUDE))

  14

  THE ARENA

  Nina stood at the epicenter of what used to be the most prestigious arena on the planet. Millennia ago, slaves and warriors—occasionally even emperors—would face off in that very place; to prove their worth as a fighter, and to fight for their right to live. It wasn't just for their own sake, though. These contests on the arena floor were for their spectators; an audience that practically worshiped the violence on display.

  There wasn't an audience anymore—there hadn't been for a long time—yet the Colosseum was now the host of a duel once again.

  The Third Triumvirate stood in front of them.

  Mr. Nero took a step toward them.

  “So there it is then. The sword that Caesar used to create a new Rome, a better Rome. And to think...it had been right here, under everyone's noses...almost at the heart of Rome itself. For so long...since Commodus ruled.”

  The large man wearing the stone face of Commodus cracked his knuckles, looking anxious to provoke some fighting. He probably hoped that they wouldn't hand over the sword willingly. Nina was happy to make his hopes a reality.

  These thieves didn't deserve the sword.

  Mr. Nero looked around and pointed at the broken down Colosseum around them. “Can y
ou picture it? The splendor of this place in those golden years? The excitement for their shared enjoyment. Just imagine it. Can you hear it? Can you hear them cheering for us?”

  “I don't think they're cheering for you,” Riley said.

  “When we restore Rome to greatness, this place will be rebuilt and reopened as it once was. It’ll be a place for the masses to enjoy time together, to share in a profound experience...”

  “People still do that,” August growled. “Concerts. Sporting events. Conventions. We don't need to watch people murder each other for fun. Killing isn't a game and it's not something you can do just because you excuse it with this big master plan of yours. I know you probably don't want to believe it, but society has progressed since then.”

  The Third Triumvirate probably couldn't even begin to understand the concept of progress. Based on what they wrote in those letters, in their minds, the world had only taken part in regression ever since the collapse of the Roman Empire. Ironically, they were looking to revert the world back to a much more rudimentary time while acting like it was some bold new world. Nina hated their hypocrisy. They were obsessed with turning back the clocks, honestly thinking that a long-dead society was what the world needed to cure all of its problems. They seemed to forget that the Roman Empire didn't survive for a reason. That expansive of an empire wasn't sustainable as time passed. It had a good long run, to be sure, but it wasn't meant to be. Some things were not meant to come back, and the Roman Empire was certainly one of those things.

  “You believe sports hold any candle to the events that would take place here? Really? You must know next to nothing about this place then because those are two very different things. The contests of strength that the world has today—football, baseball, basketball, hockey, fencing, racing, all of it—are just poor imitations of the actual bouts that took place in this arena.” Mr. Nero looked tired of this discussion, acting like he was right and that was the end of it. “Enough wasting our time. It's really quite simple. Give us the sword and we won't kill you and your friends. Refuse, and you declare yourself an enemy of Rome and will have to be treated as such.”

  Nina pointed the sword at Mr. Nero and smirked. “You want this sword? Come and claim it then.”

  She wasn't a swordsman. She wasn't trained in fencing, kendo, or any other forms of swordplay. The closest thing she had ever done was cut through some branches with a machete. Hopefully, hacking and slashing wildly would be enough.

  “You don't want to do this.”

  “I do, actually, because I'm not about to hand over the sword of Caesar to a bunch of deranged tots who think that they're going to resurrect a dead civilization because they put on some dorky looking headgear.”

  The passive face of Mr. Nero stared silently at her.

  “You lack vision. That’s a shame.”

  “I don't think I'm the one not seeing things clearly. You and your friends are letting your imaginations go a little too wild, don't you think? You're not some long awaited savior of Rome. You're definitely not Nero no matter what face you're wearing. You’re a boy in a mask. That's it. The Roman Empire isn't coming back. Get over it. Find something else to be passionate about.”

  “Give us the sword! Now!” Mr. Commodus roared.

  Nina shook her head. “I really would’ve thought that you would’ve known Commodus hid the sword here since you’re wearing his face...disappointing...but I shouldn't expect anything more from a bunch of posers.”

  Mr. Commodus looked like a large beast ready to pounce on his prey. He was itching for a fight and looked quite at home in an arena like this. Luckily, August looked just as prepared to brawl. Nina was thankful to have him. Anyone else would’ve been crushed under Mr. Commodus's boot, just from his sheer size alone. August would actually be able to stand up to him and go toe to toe with the camouflaged behemoth.

  “This doesn't have to be violent,” Miss Caligula said soothingly. She was usually so quiet, that it was always surprising when she decided to speak. “But we’ll make it violent if we must. Believe me. If that's how you really want this to happen, we'll do things that way.”

  Nina had already made up her mind and she wasn't going to let these incognito freaks intimidate her. “I choose violence then.”

  They outnumbered the Third Triumvirate four to three. However, Elijah Dane was a bookworm who probably didn't have much experience in physical confrontations. He might not be of much use if this turned into a fight. He even looked uncomfortable just with the possibility that things might get ugly. He stood awkwardly, like he was trying to figure out what stance he should assume. That made it an even three against three really, and Nina wasn't positive that it was going to be a fair fight with those odds.

  She could handle herself well enough, she knew that, but she wasn't sure how tough Riley was. She brought August to fend off threats and usually he would’ve been good enough to do that, even against multiple people but Mr. Commodus looked like he was going to be taking up most of August's time and energy, and he wouldn't be an easy opponent to beat.

  “Fine,” Mr. Nero said coldly. “If that's your final decision, we will take the sword by force.”

  Mr. Nero waved a finger and Mr. Commodus suddenly rushed at Nina and the others like an enraged bull. As expected, Elijah tried his best to intercept the man but was swatted out of the way with ease. He was thrown onto the floor of the arena, looking dazed.

  Nina braced herself, raising the old sword defensively. Mr. Commodus might have been a human tank but he was still just a human. A sharp blade could pierce his flesh just as easily as it could anyone else, no matter how big he was. He’d just fall with a bit louder of a thud than most people. Now it was just a matter of running him through with the pointy end without being trampled by his one-man stampede.

  As he approached, it felt like the Earth was quaking under his stomps. She fully expected to be just as ineffective as Elijah had been, but she had a sword so at least she had to try.

  August suddenly launched through the air and tackled the charging bull, bringing both Mr. Commodus and himself sliding across the ground. The two huge men grappled with one another, each trying to overpower the other.

  Mr. Nero and Miss Caligula started walking toward Nina and Riley, pulling out knives as they drew closer.

  “To hell with it,” Nina said. “This is for breaking into our bedroom.”

  “Creeps,” Riley concurred beside her.

  The two women prepared for a fight as their opponents rushed at them.

  Nina didn't have a lot of combat experience but was quickly discovering that one of the hard facts about fighting someone in a mask was that it made it especially difficult to anticipate their moves. Usually, you could see someone's eyes to know where he or she was looking and what one was focused on. A person's face would usually grimace or contort when he or she was about to strike. A mask hid all of those cues. All you had to go off of were the movements of the arms and legs, but by time you saw a limb move, it was probably too late to react properly. In this case, Nina could easily end up with a knife in her.

  The sword had a better reach than knives but it was also ancient and rusty. It probably couldn't cut much of anything these days. One strike and it might even crumble to pieces.

  Purdue told her a story recently about a cursed crusader sword that he’d encountered. Purdue had used it and it gave him incredible physical prowess as long as he had the sword in his hand. The power came at a deadly cost though that nearly killed Purdue. At the moment, Nina didn't care how deadly the cost was if it could help her beat these two.

  “You’re standing in the way of Rome's magnificent revival, Dr. Gould. Why? You’re well versed in its history. You know full well how important this is. You know that our homeland is a mere shell of what it used to be. Just look at this place!” Mr. Nero raised his arms toward the Colosseum walls around them. “Look at this rundown, decrepit, broken place! It's a wonder that it hasn't broken apart entirely by now. This used to
be a place that was teeming with excitement and life and glory...where emperors would come to be among their people. Now it is just another stop on a tourist brochure. That's all! How far we’ve fallen.”

  “Get over it already,” Riley said, rolling her eyes.

  They decided to split up, and hopefully the Triumvirate members would follow their lead. Nina climbed up out of the Hypogeum pit to the audience stands of the Colosseum. Miss Caligula followed while Riley tried her best to escape Mr. Nero. Nina glanced back and saw Riley doing a commendable job against her opponent. She mostly avoided the swings of his knife but then managed to grab his wrist and disarm him. The two fought over the knife on the ground and Riley had hold of it for a moment, nicking Mr. Nero's shin. The masked man let out a yell and punched Riley hard in the face, knocking her out cold.

  Nina screamed but couldn't watch from the stands any longer as Miss Caligula had climbed up to meet her. The woman ascended the steps at a brisk pace, waving her knife around.

  “No one’s leaving the Colosseum alive.”

  Miss Caligula swiped with her knife and Nina blocked with a few quick parry's of Caesar's sword. She kept nearly tripping as she ascended the steps backwards. If she didn't end this soon, she would definitely end up dead.

  Nina really hoped Riley was okay and Nina’s protective duty triggered a wave of adrenaline through her. She was sick of these people ambushing her. She was sick of them threatening her. She hated them and their stupid masks.

  Nina dodged another swipe of Miss Caligula's knife and then swung Caesar's sword hard and watched the blade collide with Miss Caligula's head. It smashed into the gray visage of the real Caligula, splitting the worst emperor's face apart. The mask crumbled off of the woman's head from the impact, revealing her true face underneath. Nina realized it was a face that she’d vividly seen before.

  It was Monica, the floor manager of the Palazza Nuovo.

  INTERLUDE: THE MASK OF MISS CALIGULA

  Monica Moretti grew up on all of the tales about the once great Roman Empire conquering the known world and bringing more and more lands into their utopia. While other children had their heroes like Superman, Batman, and the like, she was more interested in real idols—ones that could be found in history books instead of comic books. She preferred looking up to people who had once walked the same Earth and done things that would sustain their names for countless generations after their deaths.