The Thirteenth Legion (A James Acton Thriller, #15) (James Acton Thrillers) (23 page)

He heard
someone cry out, a dark form sliding down the deck toward him. As he neared, Flavus
caught sight of his face, it the old man from the forest, the old man he had
recognized from Rome, lurking in the background near the skull. His face was
filled with terror as their eyes met. Flavus began to move the bag to free up a
hand when the old man held out his hands, shaking his head as he continued to
slide, the prow high now.

“No, you
mustn’t! Save the skull! Forget me!”

One of
the surviving Triarii reached out of the darkness, grabbing him and pulling him
to safety as the prow slammed back down, another wave crashing over the deck.
Flavus saw the old man secured with a rope, he now safe. He gripped the bag
containing the crystal skull tighter. The old man had been willing to die for
it, had tracked them all the way from Rome, and had somehow known the deception
perpetrated, finding them in the woods, away from the battle they were meant to
die in.

Yet he
had given no explanation, other than that he was an old man—a
very
old
man—and was meant to be with the skull.

Flavus
had ordered him away, and he had complied, yet he had kept trailing them in the
distance.

It had
been an annoyance at first, but annoyance had turned to admiration that a man
so old could keep up with the finest Rome had to offer.

He had
invited him to their fire after the third night.

He
hadn’t left their side since.

The prow
rose once again, someone else crying out, the shriek fading into the distance,
another of their dwindling number lost to the gods.

We
truly
are
cursed.

He
wanted to throw it overboard, to rid them of what he now believed was the cause
of their misery. It had nearly destroyed Rome, had led to the slaughter of the
Thirteenth, and now was doing its utmost to remove the Triarii from the gods’
creation.

Something
flew toward him from the darkness, smacking him on the head. He cried out in
pain, the world flashing between darkness and gray as he stumbled to his knees,
then collapsed, his left arm still tied to the boat, the skull underneath him,
the storm fading in the distance.

“Flavus!”

Flavus
moaned.

“Sir,
are you okay?”

He
moaned again, the voice closer now, the fog in his ears slowly clearing.

Seagulls?

His eyes
fluttered open then shut again, the sun bright. He opened them a slit.

“Sir,
are you okay?”

He
looked toward the voice, recognizing one of his men. “Yes.” He held his arm
out. “Help me up.”

Hauled
to his feet, he stared back at the now calm seas. It was as if it were an
entirely different body of water than the one that had tried to kill them
earlier. “Where are we? Elysium?”

The man
chuckled. “I doubt that, there’s no way they’d let me in.” He pointed at stark
white cliffs nearby. “I believe we’re in Britannia.”

Flavus
smiled, suddenly noticing the bag the skull was in, still gripped tightly in
his arm. He looked about. “How many?”

“Only
six from our boat, sir, but look.” He pointed farther ashore, at least a dozen
more of his men rushing toward them, waving.

“Thank
the gods!” Flavus dropped to his knees and kissed the sands of his new home,
knowing those of his beloved Rome were forever lost to him.

Route 1 Ring Road, Iceland
Present Day

The landscape was barren, grays rather than greens dominating
nature’s palette here. And it was cold. They had been travelling for hours on
the highway that ringed the island nation of Iceland, and Acton wondered what
would happen should someone’s vehicle actually break down here.

It was
as barren as the moon.

Which
might be why Apollo astronauts trained here in the sixties.

Fortunately
being stranded wasn’t a possibility for them, there several vehicles in their
convoy. He sat in the back of one of the SUVs, Laura beside him, Chaney in the
passenger seat with an unnamed driver. Laura’s head rested on his shoulder, she
having passed out from exhaustion over an hour ago.

He was
still running on adrenaline, though he’d be crashing soon. He just hoped he’d
last long enough in case he had to take some sort of action. Escape wasn’t his
endgame. In fact, he couldn’t quite believe he was here. The entire notion that
there was some sort of power inside these sculptures was ridiculous, yet he
couldn’t deny some things. Laura had convinced him that no known method—modern
or ancient—could manufacture them, unless some forgotten technique had been used.
They had been found spread out across the world over millennia, all manner of
cultures possessing them.

They
were an enigma.

And he
couldn’t explain the physical reaction he had almost every time he was near
one.

The
shiver.

A
tingling sensation racing up his spine then spreading out over his body. He was
certain it was just a physiological response to an emotional reaction. It was
hardly the first time he had shivered. Lots of eerie moments in his life,
whether it was out on a dark night, deep in a damp cave, crawling through a
narrow passage leading to an ancient chamber not seen in thousands of years, or
just watching a great horror movie, all had led to a shiver exactly like it.

The
skulls were creepy looking, and the way light would gather in the eye sockets
gave it the appearance it was glaring at you.

Definitely
enough to trigger a psychological reaction.

No magic
involved.

So why
was he here?

He
looked at his sleeping wife and knew she was part of it. She believed there was
something special about the skulls, beyond their unknown method of manufacture.
She had told him once she believed that when man was ready to understand them,
then their secrets would be revealed.

Definitely
not very scientific.

Yet that
was only part of it.

He was
here for his own reasons. Perhaps it was his penchant for sticking his nose
where it didn’t belong, or his sometimes nearly fatal curiosity. Whatever it
was, something had compelled him to come along. Though he was positive nothing
would come of this, he couldn’t deny himself the opportunity, no matter how
slim, to see what could be a discovery that would change mankind forever.

And
tonight, what was sure to be the biggest disappointment in the Triarii’s two
thousand year history, would soon be over, and his involvement with these
people would be too. He and Laura would head home, and the skulls would be done
with.

A
disappointment for Laura, for certain, though the mystery of how they had been
made would remain.

And he
was sure the true believers would claim they just hadn’t been ready to receive
the power, and the mystery would continue, left for a future generation of
Triarii to challenge.

A
generation he hoped would come long after he was dead and buried.

They
crested a rise and Chaney pointed. “Do you see it?”

Acton
leaned forward, disturbing Laura who woke, rubbing her eyes.

“Are we
there?” she asked.

“Apparently.”

Acton
searched the area Chaney was pointing at yet saw nothing, just rock. Nothing
but rock. Laura poked her head between the seats beside him. His eyes suddenly
narrowed, spotting something then losing it as the car dipped slightly. He
caught it again, still not sure what he was looking at. It still appeared to be
rock, but there was something wrong, something out of place.

“Do you
see it?”

Acton
shook his head. “No, but yes. I don’t see it, but I know there’s something
there, something wrong.”

Chaney
chuckled. “Then the designers got it right.” He pointed slightly to the left.
“Look at the dark spots.”

Acton
leaned further forward, still seeing nothing, when suddenly it all snapped into
focus. He gasped. “I see it!” The dark spots were too symmetrical, too smooth,
whatever they were apparently not lending themselves to the camouflage the rest
of the facility utilized. Laura gasped beside him as she too finally spotted
it.

“What is
it?”

Chaney
turned in his seat. “A location we’ve been preparing for over a decade for just
this occasion.”

Acton
looked at him then back at the rapidly approaching installation. “What, some
sort of Dr. No lab?”

Chaney
chuckled. “Exactly, just a lot less evil.”

Multiple
Austin Powers lines leapt to mind, but Acton bit his tongue as the driver
reached up and pressed a button, a large chunk of rock just down the road and
to their left sinking into the ground. The driver slowed, making the turn
quickly. Acton leaned back in his seat, Laura beside him, gripping his arm as
they sped through a narrow road cut into the volcanic rock. Acton glanced back
to see the other two vehicles behind them, the large rock rising as they passed,
hiding their path from the road. Looking to the sides his eyes narrowed. He
leaned toward the window and stared up, suddenly realizing the road had been
cut so deep, that the stone arced over their heads, leaving only a sliver of
sky visible.

It was
probably completely hidden from aerial view unless you knew to look for it.

And why
would anyone?

“Very
impressive.”

Chaney
smiled. “This is nothing. Just wait.” He pointed at a looming stone
outcropping, the driver not slowing down. Suddenly the wall parted like a massive
set of French doors and they plunged into the darkness, the vehicle immediately
tipping forward as they descended what Acton had to hope was a ramp. He glanced
back at the other vehicles, the doors already closing behind them, the sliver
of light from outside suddenly gone.

Lights
flooded the entire area, forcing Acton to blink a few times to adjust. He
turned toward the front and gasped as Laura gripped his arm.

“Unbelievable!”

Hilton Reykjavik Nordica, Reykjavik, Iceland

Someone knocked at the door of the hotel room, killing the
conversation. Dawson motioned toward Niner and Spock to check it out. Both drew
their weapons and made for the door in silence. Niner peered through the
peephole and waved Spock off.

“It’s
Leather.” He opened the door and Leather’s team entered without saying
anything, the last man closing the door.

Dawson
rose, shaking Leather’s hand as everyone introduced themselves. “This room is
too tight for everyone. I’ve got two rooms next door for your team plus
equipment. Get a quick bite and get your equipment squared away. We’re leaving
in one hour.” Dawson pointed to a table near the door, two cardkeys sitting on
it. “Six-twelve and Six-fourteen.”

Leather
nodded to his team and the room quickly thinned out, Leather remaining. “Sitrep?”

Dawson
motioned to an empty chair then spun a laptop toward him with a map of the
island. “They took a vehicle around the island, so we’ve gained a lot of time.”

“Nice of
them. I thought these guys were well funded. Why not take a chopper?”

“I’m
guessing they don’t want ATC wondering where they’re going. If they’ve got an
installation here, chances are the government doesn’t know about it, and
frequent air traffic might demand an investigation.” Dawson smiled. “Luckily,
we have no such concerns, so I’ve arranged two choppers that will carry us to
their last known location, which is here.” He pointed to a glowing red dot
along the northern coast. “This is where their signals were cut off. We’re
assuming they’re inside some sort of shielded structure, but satellite images
from Langley are showing nothing.”

“New
images arriving now,” said Niner, clicking a few keys. “Sending them to your
laptop.”