The Last Roman (Praetorian Series - Book One) (29 page)

Her speech left me with little else to do except
stare at the ceiling, unsure how to respond. How could I trust her
now when she had been so blatantly lying to me for so long? She was
a stranger now, someone who’d broke the bonds of brotherhood and
was someone I couldn’t trust or rely on. I rolled onto my side and
faced away from her.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked. “I forgive
you? You didn’t do anything wrong? How can I do that? Any reason I
may have had to trust you is gone.”

It’s been my experience with women that they
generally do things in unexpected and unpredictable ways. Many a
time in a conversation, a woman will do something crazy. One
comment will lead to reaction A, while a seemingly identical
comment will result in reaction B, and at the end of the talk a
completely different comment ends up eliciting reaction A again. It
was completely insane and was pretty much the main reason I’d given
up trying to understand women long ago. It was why, with my back
turned away from Helena, that I was completely unprepared for her
unwarranted attack.

Her body check rolled me off the bunk, throwing me
against the wall and forcing me onto my back once again. She
followed it up by leaping over my body and situating herself in the
door frame, straddling me as she sat on my stomach. She then
grabbed my head in both hands and pulled me close, as she in turn
leaned in, her face inches away from mine.

She stared at me, her eyes glistening like a cool
beverage on a warm summer day. I tried to look away, but she pulled
me even closer. With nothing else to do, I stared up at her and
waited for what she had to say. I saw sadness there in her eyes,
real sadness, the kind I had never seen there before, and my heart
sank. It wasn’t fair of me to tell her I couldn’t trust her.
Accelerated training or not, she’d still taken an oath. An oath she
was now breaking. To make matters worse, her breaking of orders was
nothing when compared to her emotionally sheltered life. To learn
to trust me the way she did, only to have me turn my back on her
now, must be devastating. I was already regretting my flip
words.

A minute passed, ever second of silence
devastating.

“Jacob,” she whispered. “You have to trust me,
because you…” she paused, choking back tears, “…because you’re the
only person I trust. There’s no one else left.”

She lowered my head back towards the floor, but the
pain in her voice was more than enough to keep my eyes connected
with hers. Her words were a plea for help from a girl, no, a person
who’d lost control of her life. It sounded more familiar than I
cared to admit, but it was true. She was lost here in ancient Rome
and needed to hang on to whatever felt familiar. I felt the same
way, only I was too proud to admit it.

She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d been under
orders and it wasn’t fair of me to ridicule and berate her for it.
She was right. I needed her more than I thought, and I wasn’t about
to throw that away now.

“Helena, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so
flippant. I…” I tried to find the right words, “… I want to trust
you, or at least try for now. I hope you can forgive me.”

Her green eyes continued to stare, but I felt her
entire demeanor change as she let more of her weight sit on me.

“I can,” she assured in a whisper. “Thank you.”

With those words she brought her face closer to
mine, hesitating only slightly at first, her wonderfully full lips
puckering ever so slightly.

This was it.

The moment in all the movies where the hero finally
scored and got the girl.

It had to be.

Boy, it was my lucky day.

As our heads came together, my mouth centimeters
from hers, so close I could feel her breath on my lips and the heat
radiating off her cheeks, I heard the most annoyingly ill-timed
commotion I had ever heard. It sounded like someone had broken down
our front door and was pillaging our home.

I looked up at Helena as she strained her head
towards the door, trying to see what was happening. Gently, I
placed my left hand alongside her cheek, shifting her face back
towards mine.

She smiled as she looked down at me and my mind went
blank. I could only think of one thing to say. It was the most
cliché line I had ever heard.

“Rain check?”

***

We recovered from the moment and rushed to the
adjoining room to see numerous Roman Praetorians cramping our
building, with plenty more outside. Helena and I had our side arms
at the ready, but lowered them when we saw the recognizable faces
of our new friends. I noticed Gaius near the door, and offered him
a friendly nod. He returned it imperceptibly, but I saw a look of
worry on his stone hard face.

Vincent was standing between us and them, his arms
upraised between us to ward off any aggressive action before it
started. Wang and Santino were kneeling in the doorway opposite the
entrance, their rifles directed at our guests. Both men were
shirtless and looked as though they had been preparing to get some
sleep.

“Stand down,” Vincent ordered, motioning for all of
us to put our weapons down.

He turned to face them, offering them a look of
annoyed expectancy. The Romans waited patiently for us to put our
weapons away. Once satisfied we wouldn’t shoot them, the centurion,
Quintilius, stepped forward.

“There has been an incident on the Palatine which
requires your attention,” he said, pointedly. “Earlier today, prior
to your return from Gaul, Caligula became very ill, and is now bed
ridden.”

Vincent and I exchanged glances. This was it. The
pivotal point in Caligula’s reign, the catalyst for his legacy, but
the timing was off. Caligula wasn’t even in Rome when he got sick.
I now knew it was no longer a question of whether or not we were
changing things.

We were.

“We are unsure of the cause,” Quintilius said, “but
up until this morning, Caligula was in perfect health. We suspect
poison. We…” he trailed off, glancing at his comrades before
continuing, “we’re here of our own accord. No one sent us. We were
hoping maybe you could help him.”

Vincent looked thoughtful, but Quintilius continued
before he could say anything.

“There’s more. We also have information of an armed
mob congregating on the far side of the city, led by members of the
Senate. Rumors of an uprising have been circulating for weeks now,
and it looks like dissenters plan to take advantage of Caligula’s
weakened position. If you are truly here to help us, you must
commit to our cause now. We may need to flee Rome at any time, and
you won’t be able to come back.” He took a step forward and stared
coldly at Vincent. “Are you with us?”

Vincent’s eyes met the floor before he glanced over
at me. I shrugged. We were well beyond the point of no return in
regards to maintaining the status quo, and the alternative to
helping seemed like a death sentence, anyway.

He nodded. “We’re with you.”

The centurion nodded as well. “We thank you. Please,
make your way to the Palatine as quickly as possible. I believe the
need for you to stay under guard is at an end, so please leave at
your discretion, but do hurry. My men and I will attempt to quell
the uprising before it ignites, but we cannot make any guarantees.
Take what you can with you and we will arrange to have your extra
supplies moved. Gaius will remain here with you, just in case.
He’ll follow whatever order you give him.”

Vincent nodded, and tapped his closed fist against
his chest. “We’ll do what we can, Centurion.”

The man returned the gesture before rounding up his
men and leaving as quickly as he could, Gaius remaining with
us.

Vincent started moving towards his room.

“All right, people. I want you ready in ten minutes.
Get your three day assault packs ready. I want you heavy with
ammunition. Looks we’ll be saying goodbye to our little home away
from home.”

“Damn,” Santino said, “and I was just about ready to
plant a garden out front. I was thinking tulips.”

***

Helena and I rushed into our room, despite the fact
that most of our gear was already ready to go, and donned our night
ops combat fatigues. The past month had given all of us plenty of
free time, so even though our weapons had sat idle, they were
clean, loaded, and ready for use. Vincent’s order for a three day
assault pack was basically code for bringing as much food and ammo
as you can muster. Finding my small-go bag, I crammed in as many
fully loaded magazines as I could. Thanks to the bag’s versatility,
I tightened the shoulder strap to the point where I could fit it
around my waist for use as a butt pack. It would allow for quick
access to as much ammo as I hoped I’d need, without needing to
hassle with a cumbersome bag.

That thought in mind, I made sure to attach a dump
pouch to my belt as well. Normally in the field, a soldier’s empty
mag could simply be discarded on the ground and forgotten about.
When they returned home, the military would provide them with
replacements. Here, in ancient Rome, we no longer had that luxury,
and while we had more than enough ammunition to supply the entire
Normandy Beach invasion, we couldn’t afford to frivolously waste
the magazines.

Finding my assault bag, I gestured for Helena to
toss me her own. When she did, I ran to our supply room. I stuffed
both of our bags with a half a dozen MREs, enough food to last a
month if rationed very, very scarcely, as well as extra empty
magazines, and a few boxes of additional ammo, 5.56x45mm for me,
5.57x28mm for Helena’s P90, and 7.62x51mm ammo for her DSR-1. To
round out our supplies, I added an entrenching shovel, a few
hundred feet of paracord, a survival gear, E&E kit, some
bottled water, and plenty of extra batteries with a solar panel
charger into my bag. Besides the food and ammo, I added two sets of
night vision goggles to Helena’s pack, as well as a two man tent,
which when packed was no larger than three pairs of jeans stacked
on top of each other, and not much heavier. She had to travel light
in case she needed to run off and play sniper. Plus she had to
carry two weapons.

Just as I was about to head run back to my room,
Bordeaux rushed in behind me, almost running me down with his bulky
frame.

“
excusez-moi
,” he mumbled mockingly. “Rush,
rush, rush.”

Smiling at his own silliness, he shoved me into my
room.

I stumbling through the doorway and shot him an ugly
stare, which he, of course, completely ignored.

Helena noticed my clumsiness, and laughed. “Boy, you
are quite the klutz, and not just around ‘attractive women’,” she
said, batting her eyelashes at me. “I’m amazed you made it through
puberty.”

Offering her a sarcastic smile, I threw her assault
bag at her a little harder than I should have. She caught it with a
“whoof.”

“And a temper too,” she said, pressing the back of
her palm to her forehead. “Hold me back.” She continued smiling as
she pulled on her vest, snapping it together before doing the same
with her thigh platforms together. She had her pistol on her right
leg, and magazine pouches for her DSR-1 on her left. She pulled on
her bag, slung her DSR-1 over her shoulder, somewhat awkward with
the large bag, and shouldered her P90. “I’ll meet you outside,
Jacob.”

She tried to squeeze past me to get through the door
but just before she could, instinct took over. I lashed out and
grabbed her arm, swinging her around into my own arms. Before she
could protest, which I was mostly sure she wouldn’t, I leaned her
back, pressed my lips against hers, and waited for her to punch me
again.

I felt her stiffen ever so slightly, not out of
apprehension or protest, or even fear, but perhaps just from the
novelty of the experience. Her lips were soft and tender, and I
felt her resolve tighten quickly. Almost immediately I felt her
arms snaking around my neck and I knew I’d avoided another
excruciating black eye. Pulling her even closer, I drank in as many
details as I could. The sweet scent of her hair, the subtle yet
equally pleasing odor of her skin, and the texture of her delicate
lips. The stimulation was so intoxicating that I didn’t want to let
go; only doing so when I thought she might run out of air.

Backing away, I saw her eyes were closed and her
lips still puckered. It was an expression as innocent as a young
woman could wear after her first kiss with a new guy. Cupping her
chin in a hand, I waited for her eyes to open.

When they did, I gave her a smile. “Just in case
something happens.”

She looked at me, her mouth moving but with no words
coming out.

I heard someone clear their throat, and for a second
I thought the moment would be ruined by a horrible joke from
Santino. Instead, I looked over to see Bordeaux, still standing
there, smiling in our direction. Catching my eye, he just shook his
head with a smile and left the room.

Helena smiled as well and gave me a playful shove
away from her. “Just don’t get yourself killed, Lieutenant. I’ve
decided I like you after all.”

“Knowing there’s someone to come home to makes
surviving that much more important. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” She said as she left. I watched her go
for a half second wondering if I’d just won something. Like an
Awesome Contest
or something. Helena’s affection was a prize
any man would die for, but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t that kissing
her was some grand victory, but it made me remember I had something
to fight for again. Like I said. Someone to come home to. Trapped
in Rome kind of took away that luxury, and I nearly kicked myself
for almost depriving myself of it. Grabbing my own gear and
snapping everything together on the run, I rushed out of my room, a
grin worthy of Santino himself on my face.