Eagle of the Empire

by Martin Ferguson

  A loud bang sounds from farther up the street, followed by crashing glass. Youths are shouting at the top of their voices and cheering. The security guard forces the map back into my hands and hurries away, shouting and calling into her intercom for back up.

  ‘Good distraction, Dave. Now hurry up and get over here,’ I tell him, backing away towards the Colosseum’s secondary entrance and the iron gates we need to overcome. There are still hundreds of people around me but not for much longer.

  ‘What’s the next part of your brilliant plan then?’ Emma asks as she hurries over to me.

  I lift up the security guard’s intercom, taken from the guard whilst Abbey thought my gaze was wandering. Emma smiles and snatches it out of my hand, knowing the rest of what I have in mind. Her Italian words come fluent and clear, impressive. It doesn’t take long to hear the results. Across the Colosseum loudspeakers, announcements flood out and a general evacuation begins.

  ‘The people may be going but we still can’t get past the gates,’ Abbey warns.

  ‘We can with these,’ I say, holding up the set of keys and an identification card I lifted from the guard as she inspected my map.

  ‘Francesca Visiers, Chief of Security,’ I say, reading the ID badge. ‘And you thought I was just eyeing her…’

  I’m silenced as a young, attractive woman, marches straight towards me, her face flushed with anger. My God, she’s beautiful. Her words come fast and furious.

  ‘What’s she saying?’ I ask.

  She’s very annoyed. She’s asking if you know why there has been an evacuation called. She’s spent a lot of money and she wants reimbursing. She’s going to blow our cover if she continues ranting like this,’ Emma warns. ‘We’re losing time.’

  ‘Why don’t you speak to her then,’ I encourage Emma.

  ‘No way,’ she says, backing away. ‘It’s you she’s yelling at. Come on. Use some of that Hunter charm.’

  ‘How do you say you’re very beautiful in Italian?’ I ask.

  ‘What?’ Abbey replies. ‘How does that help?’

  ‘We don’t have time for this,’ Emma warns.

  ‘She’s Spanish anyway, not Italian,’ Abbey adds.

  ‘Abbey?’

  ‘Fine, what do you want to say?’

  ‘Something like, you have my sincerest apologies. If there is anything I can do to help such a stunningly beautiful woman such as you, you need only say.’

  Abbey translates everything and I repeat it, laying on the charm despite my woeful attempts at the language. It doesn’t go down well; the furious woman slaps me hard across the face, shouting a tirade of what I imagine are insults before storming off.

  ‘What did she say?’ I ask, rubbing the sore, red cheek and my wounded pride. ‘Okay, Abbey, you can stop laughing so hysterically.’

  ‘No, no, I can’t! You were so rude to her.’ She continues to howl.

  ‘What did I say?’ I’m beginning to realise that my usual Hunter charm had got woefully lost in translation.

  ‘I really can’t repeat what you said, but it was hilarious!’

  ‘C’mon, lover boy,’ Dave says as he reaches us, hurrying us through the evacuating crowds towards the secondary entrance and the vast locked gates.

  ‘What the hell was that, Adam?’ Emma asks me as we hurry towards the gates.

  ‘Improvisation,’ I reply. ‘It was worth a shot. Why? You jealous?’

  ‘Amateur,’ she says back.

  I stop just before we reach the iron gates blocking the entrance. There’s a security camera overhead, turning in its surveillance. Once it’s facing away, we sprint forward and beneath it. Dave takes a small electronic device from his pack, and with a boost up from me, connects it to the casing of the camera. Thankfully, it doesn’t take him long. He’s a tonne of solid muscle.

  ‘An electro-magnetic pulse device,’ Abbey explains over the headset.

  ‘EMP,’ I reply in a whisper. ‘Another gadget of Tristram’s?’

  ‘Yep. Attached to the camera it’ll short-out their security system, requiring a full reboot.’

  ‘Whatever you guys pay Tristram, it’s not enough,’ I say, impressed.

  ‘He agrees wholeheartedly,’ Abbey says, conveying the technician’s message.

  Dave activates the device, and though it doesn’t give a sound, I feel the pressure increase in my ears for a brief second before the camera stills, its lights dimming.

  ‘Shouldn’t the EMP have knocked out the glasses and earpieces?’ I ask.

  ‘Please, our equipment is far too advanced for that,’ Abbey states proudly. ‘All the shielding money can buy.’

  ‘Again, tell Charles to pay Tristram more,’ I tell her. ‘How much time does that buy us?’

  ‘Ten, fifteen minutes max,’ Dave states as we rush on towards the gates. ‘It’ll only affect those security systems in circuit with it though, so whatever other surprises they have in wait we will have to overcome.’

  ‘At least they won’t get our image on the cameras,’ I say.

  ‘I can’t imagine anything worse than your ugly mugs being shown on worldwide news,’ Abbey taunts. ‘Have you seen these men, international criminals Adam Hunter and Dave Conway?’

  ‘What about Emma?’ I ask.

  ‘She’s too good to get caught,’ Abbey says.

  ‘Damn right,’ Emma agrees.

  ‘Quiet,’ Dave silences us as we reach the gates.

  There are two locks to the gate and I size them up with the keys in my hand. Thankfully, they click into place without effort or alarm. It takes all three of us to pull the heavy iron open, closing the gate again once we are inside. Beyond the gate, we enter long, dark passages that wind around the Colosseum.

  ‘Not going to be able to see much in the dark without torches,’ I say. ‘The light may give away our presence to any guards wandering by.’

  ‘As you seem fond of saying, ‘No worries’,’ Abbey replies. The lenses of the glasses flicker for a moment and my vision is bathed in green, able to see as clear as if it was the middle of the day.

  ‘Now where?’ Dave asks, one eye on his watch. He’s not wearing glasses, nor Emma, but I can see their eyes surveying our surroundings with ease, military experience and training.

  A map appears before my left eye, a full layout of the Colosseum with a single blue dot representing where we stand. A red cross shows our destination.

  ‘You need to circle around the arena to avoid the security rooms,’ Abbey explains, the route appearing on the glasses. ‘They will have their hands full with the evacuation and trying to get their cameras back on, but that doesn’t mean they won’t still be patrolling the area. You then need to descend into the lower levels beneath the arena. I am afraid you’re on your own after that; there have never been maps or schematics published of what is down there.’

  ‘But the engraved walls, the records, they’re down there?’ I ask.

  ‘Supposedly,’ Abbey simply replies.

  ‘That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence,’ I tell her.

  ‘Where’s your optimism?’ she mimics me.

  ‘Enough, you two,’ Dave says, hurrying on in silence, Emma and I close behind.

  We continue onwards, in the dark walkways of the Colosseum. There are security cameras covering all areas, but they still show no signs of activity.

  We hurry, the heat of the Italian night and the weight of our equipment making us sweat. Quicker than I thought possible, we reach the red marker on the map – it marks the stairwell down into the dark heart of the Colosseum. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, as if waiting for us, are two guards, handguns holstered at their hips. As Dave indicates to me, they are both wearing ear piece communicators, an easy way to call for back up.

  ‘There’s no other way into the lower levels than this,’ Abbey explains.

  ‘We’ll have to go through them,’ Dave mutters in a whisper.

  He pulls another EMP device from his rucksack and activates it, the pressure
in my ears building for a moment again, knocking out the guard’s earpieces. Dave then shows me something else, a canister with a ring pin, the word GAS across its length.

  ‘Ready, Em?’ he asks her.

  ‘Yep,’ she says, then turning to me, she adds, ‘Stay here.’

  ‘Take a deep breath,’ Dave tells us.

  Dave pulls the pin and rolls the canister down the stairs. Smoke billows out to cover the stairwell. The guards cough and splutter, trying to raise the alarm but with no luck. Dave charges forward, thundering down the stairs and barging one of the guards to the ground. Emma follows, leaping down and propelling herself off the wall to the side, landing a hard kick to the back of the legs of the remaining guard. His knees buckle and she catches him, holding him in the smoke until he falls unconscious.

  As the smoke clears, Dave emerges, victorious, with the guard lying limp at the foot of the stairs. He has the guard’s firearm in his hands, and unloads and dismantles it in a matter of seconds. I look to Emma, a broad smile across her face. She enjoys all this. Only when the smoke clears do they take a breath.

  ‘They’re still alive, right?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes, don’t worry,’ Dave states, dismantling the other guard’s gun.

  Suddenly, from around the corner, another guard emerges, cups of coffee in his hands. He is young, younger even than me, and seeing his colleagues down, he starts to turn and runs without a word.

  ‘I’ve got him,’ I say, running after the guard and taking from my pocket a single bolas. Throwing it, the wire wraps quickly around the guard’s body, his arms and legs entangled. He collapses, crying out as he lands hard on the stone floor.

  ‘Nice work, kid,’ Dave says as he catches up to me and silences the man with a cloth soaked in what smells like petrol. The guard falls limp instantly, though I can see he is still breathing fine.

  ‘Now where?’ Dave asks.

  ‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ Abbey admits. ‘Remember I have no records of what is down there.’

  We continue on into the dark lower levels, seeing little of interest except more passageways until Dave suddenly grabs Emma and me. Slowly, he lowers down, pointing out what we were just about to step through. Barely visible to the human eye is a single red laser.

  ‘Good spot,’ Emma says, kneeling down and taking a closer look. ‘Break the laser and it’ll trigger a mass alarm.’

  ‘I can help with that,’ Abbey says. The vision on the glasses flickers to red, the faint lines of the lasers now visible. They cross the passageway, some covering vast areas and creating difficult obstacles at different heights.

  ‘There’s something beyond this that somebody didn’t want found,’ Dave says.

  ‘No worries,’ I reply, flashing him a grin that draws a roll of the eyes from Emma.

  I back up before taking a long, deep breath. I sprint forward, leap over the first few, ducking under the next and then, grasping a stone column across the ceiling, pull myself up and around the next. All those school escapades have trained me well. I pause briefly, on tips toes as I try to keep my balance and stop myself from tumbling forward, then leaping on and over the next set of lasers. I duck under the next, rolling across the floor and to the end of the passageway.

  ‘See, no worries,’ I say as I rise up, lifting my arms in triumph. ‘Your turn.’

  I throw the glasses to Emma, narrowly missing the lasers, and she travels down the passageway the same as me. I have to admit that her reflexes and agility are far superior, leaping and moving without effort. Within no time, she has crossed the corridor without setting off the alarm.

  ‘Your turn, old man,’ she taunts Dave.

  He shakes his head, draws his handgun, silencer already attached to its barrel, and fires a single round. I duck away but the bullet is nowhere near me, striking a fuse box against the wall halfway down the passageway. The lasers disappear instantly.

  ‘And you couldn’t have done that before?’ I ask, feeling like an idiot.

  ‘You didn’t ask,’ Dave says, briefly showing a smile as he begins to walk towards me. It disappears instantly as we hear another voice call out from behind us.

  ‘Ferma qui!’ two security guards yell, handguns raised.

  ‘Stop there!’ Abbey translates.

  ‘Yeah, guessed that,’ I reply.

  Before we can say or do anything, gunshots sound, the noise deafening in the tight passageway as the two guards fall to the ground. Emma and I duck behind a wall, peering out and seeing Dave taking cover behind the remains of a stone statue.

  ‘What the… you shot them!’ I say, turning on Dave.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ he says, looking at his gun. ‘I didn’t release the catch.’

  ‘Then who did?’

  As I’m staring at the shapes of the men on the floor, a familiar Australian voice calls out,

  ‘Well, if it isn’t Matt’s little brother again.’

  ‘Come here, punk,’ an American voice adds, ‘I owe you a great deal of pain.’

  ‘Is that Dave Conway as well?’ the Australian says with joy. ‘Oh, we’ve been looking forward to the next time our paths cross again. This time, I’ll be putting a bullet in you!’

  ‘Leon and Bishop,’ I whisper. Dread ripples through me as, peering around the corner, I see the red eye, the still healing spear wound across its face and ruined eye. The wolf sees me, too and unleashes a terrifying roar.

  ‘Em, Adam, get out of here,’ Dave orders me. ‘I’ll hold them off. Keep going. Get to the records.’

  ‘We can’t leave you!’ I protest.

  ‘Do as I say, kid!’ he yells, firing two rounds, forcing Leon and Bishop to duck away before throwing a smoke grenade to cover our escape. ‘You’re no use dead! Em, get him out of here! I’m not going to tell you ag…’

  Dave’s words are silenced as the wolf charges through the smoke and knocks him away in its haste to get to me.

  ‘Run, Hunter, run!’ Abbey screams.

  It’s the only choice we have. I grab Emma and drag her away into the unknown. In the next room are more laser sensors and we manage to trigger every single one of them in our escape, the alarms echoing through the Colosseum. With two guards gunned down, and a battle still ongoing behind us as Dave holds off Leon and Bishop, it’s too late for subtlety anyway. I hear the wolf’s jaws snapping behind me, gaining on me as we enter the next room, which is filled with tables, computers and all manner of equipment for excavation and analysis.

  We split then, Emma running to one side of the room and me the other. The wolf has only one target. Leaping at me, it thunders into my back, forcing me down as its claws tear into my leather jacket. As I hit the ground, I roll, ducking beneath a table and pulling it down after me, table and computer equipment striking the beast but it doesn’t slow. I strike it with a chair but it doesn’t stop – it has one and only one aim – to tear me apart.

  Suddenly, a gunshot rings in my ears, the bullet striking near to the beast but missing and ricocheting. Stopping and turning, the wolf hurtles towards its attacker, Emma. She fires three more rounds, striking the animal twice, but it doesn’t slow. That’s when I understand – the wolf isn’t of this world; it is something else – something supernatural. Leaping towards her, it snaps its jaws savagely. Diving away, she only just clears the beast, smashing through more equipment and sending sparks flying before a loud boom deafens us both. The shockwave of the equipment exploding throws both of us to the ground.

  I feel the heat before I see it, flames covering the room, but its Emma’s screams that rouse me. The wolf has her, jaws clamped tight around her leg, the wound already bleeding heavily. Without thinking, I rise up and charge it, leaping over debris to slam both boots into the beast’s side and send it crashing into the flames. It howls loudly, the fire burning through its fur. It rises out of the blaze, a demonic hound, fleeing back down the dark corridors.

  Emma’s screams fill the space; pain and fear.

  ‘Come on,’ I urge, but she’
s not hearing me. She is seeing only the fire, the growing inferno. I see in her eyes that she is no longer here, but lost somewhere in the horror of her past.

  ‘We need to get out of here,’ I coax, kneeling at her side.

  ‘I… I can’t.’

  ‘Close your eyes,’ I say, taking her trembling hands in mine. ‘Listen to me. Close your eyes and listen to my voice. I will get you out of here.’

  At last, she meets my gaze. She is terrified. Tears stream from her eyes.

  ‘I will get you out of here,’ I repeat. ‘Close your eyes.’

  She nods, summoning her courage and closing her eyes. With an arm around her, I help her to stand, taking most of her weight from the injured leg.

  ‘Come on,’ I whisper. ‘One step at a time.’

  Suddenly, blue flames join the rest, rising ever higher around us.

  ‘He’s here,’ I whisper under my breath, trying not to panic Emma further.

  I guide her through the room, her body still trembling in fear; the heat of the flames is still too close. Every step she takes on her injured leg draws a cry of agony, but she doesn’t stop; the need to escape overwhelms any pain.

  ‘Nearly there,’ I say calmly, despite the flames all around us.

  ‘You’re not a good liar, are you?’ Emma forces a joke.

  It’s only when we are clear and into the next corridor that I tell her to open her eyes. Her legs buckle instantly and I lower her to the ground. Looking back, I see the trail of blood in our wake. She’s badly injured, and we don’t have much time – I know he is here. Quickly, I take the first aid kit from my rucksack, hoping there is something I can use as a tourniquet. I thank God for the team back at base when I discover, nestled at the bottom of the bag, a length of black cloth. I tie it tightly around her leg above the bite, drawing another cry of pain from her lips before wrapping the wound in more bandages.

  ‘That’ll slow the bleeding,’ I tell her, ‘but we need to get you to a hospital.’

  ‘Later,’ Emma says. ‘You need to keep going.’

  ‘I can’t leave you.’

  ‘Go. If not, this will all have been for nothing.’

  ‘What if Leon and Bishop make it this far?’ I ask, still hearing distant gunfire. ‘Or the flames keep spreading?’