Order of the Black Sun Box Set 11

by Preston William Child

  “You know you can't trust anything he says,” Nina said frantically. “You can't.”

  “I don't,” Purdue clarified firmly. “Believe me, but I still felt like I needed to hear what he had to say. Any information at all, even if I had to take it was a huge bloody grain of salt, was going to be worth it.”

  Nina scoffed and folded her arms, far more angry than she’d ever been during the expedition for Genghis Khan's tomb; so much so, that the others looked shocked by seeing this side of her. Usually, she was so helpful, cooperative—maybe somewhat stubborn—but she didn't usually show so much raw anger. Purdue hoped that they shared his understanding of this context. Her anger was justified, but he needed her to see past it and grasp the bigger picture.

  She shook her head and then let out a long exhale in defeat. “And what did he say then?”

  “Not much unfortunately,” Purdue expressed. “Just some scary bedtime shit about an old lady that has some bad relationship with the order. Apparently, we should all be very afraid of her, but he didn't know anything else about her.”

  “Maybe we should be,” Yusuke chimed in. “If that man was just working for her, then she obviously has a long reach. It completely caught us off guard, didn't it? Even you, didn't it, Purdue?”

  Purdue nodded and spoke honestly. “It did. Completely. I’d no idea these people existed. I thought our troubles were done with Julian...or even just a few old grudges with people like Galen. Stragglers like some of the other people that quit when I took control of the order. Those were the only people I thought would be a little bit of a problem. But I’d no clue that there was another big player out there...and I didn't even know we were playing any games with them.”

  Once again, the team looked uneasy. They were all staring into an enormous ocean, realizing that they weren't swimming alongside the biggest fish like they thought they were. There was something maybe even bigger out there, or at least something that posed an actual threat. The Order of the Black Sun might not be the most powerful organization dealing with ancient relics after all.

  It had startled Purdue even, learning that he’d spent so long thinking that the Order of the Black Sun was the biggest enemy in his way. He thought beating them would be his greatest victory and doing so would bring about a much more peaceful world. Things were supposed to be better now, but instead, the Black Sun's fall and restructure had just exposed that there was something worse that was hiding in the background, wickedly waiting in the wings.

  “So what do you think?” Purdue asked, addressing everyone as a collective. “You've done much more than dip your toes in to test the waters now. Without really planning to, you've all now taken the full plunge into this shit storm, aye? Now my question is...are you willing to stay afloat in this crap pile or would you prefer to step on out to find someplace cleaner?” They all looked at him with some confusion, and he rolled his eyes. “What I’m really trying to say is, did all of this scare you off or are you willing to continue? I can't promise that it's going to get better. If this fairytale about this old lady is true, there's a chance this might actually get a lot worse. Are you ready for that?”

  Nina—who had still looked like she wanted to rip Purdue's head off for talking to Julian—softened somewhat and even offered a small smile. Her choice was obvious enough. They'd been through too much together. If she was going to be scared off, it would’ve happened a long, long time ago.

  Riley giggled to herself and then just clapped her hands together. “Hell yes! When's the next one?”

  Yusuke seemed to think it over but slowly nodded. “I’d like to continue, yes. We found Genghis Khan's remains. If we can do that...then I’d love to be there to see what else the Order of the Black Sun is capable of achieving.”

  Purdue felt a surge of relief come over him. They were two of his newest recruits and two of the ones that he liked the most. He wanted them to be part of this, and he yearned for them to enjoy it, but it was hard to know if they actually would enjoy being members of the Black Sun. To hear that they were willing to keep going, even after some of the scares they had, made Purdue so happy. He didn't want them to put themselves in danger again, no, but he did want to be working with people like them to change the world.

  Lastly, August just put his elbows on the table, laced his big fingers together, and leaned his bald head against his hands. He stared at the table for a minute before his gaze drifted back up to Purdue. August wasn't brand new to the order, but he was new to this new version of it. He'd endured the worst of everyone on this expedition, too, so it was impossible to know just where his head was. Maybe he was still a bit pissed with Purdue or perhaps he wasn't a big fan of the changes that had been made with Purdue as leader? It was a tense few seconds of silence before August spoke.

  “It really depends, man...do you trust me?”

  Purdue didn't even have to think about it at this point. He was ashamed he’d ever had to before. “I do. Completely.”

  “Good,” August said and smiled. “Then I'm in...as long as you're not accusing me of murder every time we go out looking for old shit.”

  “I'll refrain from pointing my fingers again.”

  August looked pleased with rubbing it in Purdue's face that he was never his enemy. He was going to make sure that Purdue didn't forget how wrong he was and he did it all with a very satisfied and shiny, white smile. “Yeah, no more pointing fingers...if you do, I'll make sure that I break them.”

  This was his team. He loved working with Nina and Sam. He’d always collaborate with them when it felt right or when he needed their expertise but one thing his new Order of the Black Sun needed was new blood and this squad that somehow survived such a messy quest were exactly like the kind of injection of life that was needed. They were the future, and they were going to help him protect history and shield the world from some of the worse secrets the past had to offer.

  The Order of the Black Sun wasn't going anywhere—and they were going to be better than ever before.

  Once everyone had left the room, Purdue found himself alone again. His heart was still full from the feeling that he had a core group that was going to help shepherd the future. He was happier than he’d been in some time.

  Purdue lost everything; his money, his relics, his friends, and his home. Now, he’d all of those blessings back in one way or another and had taken measures to try and never let that happen again once he took the proverbial throne of the Black Sun. He’d been in such a dark, hopeless place and never expected to be able to recover from. He’d been begging on the streets, making deals with modern day pirates, and relying on nothing but an old witch book and his own intellect. Now, it all seemed so far behind him. It was almost another life.

  Some hadn't been able to move on from the past—Galen and Oniel had held onto those grudges until close to the very end. They’d been stuck in the past, unwilling to adapt, or change to things happening around them. They were hell-bent on destroying Purdue for his slights on them. The worst part was, he never felt like it was his fault. The two of them—Oniel especially—were dangerous individuals that were willing to resort to murder to get what they wanted. They loathed him for not letting them get what they wanted, and Purdue didn't feel guilty about that. He enjoyed stopping psychopaths and megalomaniacs from achieving their dreams. Who cares if it made him a few enemies here and there?

  Still, those last moments with Galen dying next to that tree had stuck with him. As much as he and the Irishman butted heads, it was unfortunate how it all ended. If only they could have just had a civil discussion or debate instead of Galen trying so hard to humiliate him or murder him all the time? He was never his friend and Galen was never the nemesis that he seemed to think he was. In the end, Galen was just a man who had some insecurities and there was nothing Purdue could really do to help him.

  Purdue pulled out a book that he’d formerly refused to read for years, Galen's self-indulgent autobiography, Guns, Glaives, and Guinness: The Many Adventures of Ga
len Fitzgerald. Purdue had never had any interest in reading it. It was sure to just be Galen stroking his own ego and articulating very skewed versions of the truth. Galen was a rich but incompetent man when it came to his archaeological prowess. Galen failed far more than he succeeded, but Purdue doubted that the novel would agree with that statistic. Even so, it felt like right to finally read it.

  He opened up the book and within the first few lines closed it. It was more than enough for him. He’d hoped to get further, but there had only ever been so much Galen Fitzgerald that he could take. Galen wouldn't have cared if he actually read it, not really; he probably would have been pleased that Purdue even spent the money to buy it.

  The one lingering itch that Purdue had about Galen was the Spear of Destiny. It was the artifact that had made their cross for the most significant time, the search that led to the complete schism between them and that had made Galen's jealousy and animosity toward Purdue boil to the surface. It was a critical relic to history but also a pivotal part of Purdue's recent history. It was what had revived Julian Corvus, earned him his place as tyrannical leader of the Black Sun, and a component of what killed Charles.

  The Spear of Destiny was too important to both the world and to Purdue's own life to just leave around without an owner now. It was also too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands again. So, on a rainy day, Purdue would find out where Galen put it, and Purdue would then reclaim that spear. Maybe he’d exchange it for the dreadful autobiography he’d just tried and failed to read?

  Julian was defeated and now Galen was dead. A new team of young blood had succeeded.

  The past was the past. Purdue was glad to be settling old scores, putting old grudges to rest, and finding better ways forward.

  Then there was the matter of that mysterious shadow organization stalking them...he’d have to worry about that another day, once they could learn more about them. Until then, he’d merely keep trying to make the Order of the Black Sun even better, for as long as he could.

  THE WISDOM OF THE ELDERLY

  The old lady's chair creaked and its swaying halted immediately. Once again, she found herself surprised. It used to be such a rare occurrence, but the recent events caught her off guard. These surprises came from an even more unexpected source—that spoiled Scotsman, David Purdue. He just kept doing things that she never would expect someone like him to do. The way he dealt with Julian Corvus and the Order of the Black Sun was surprisingly effective, and his transition into the order's leader was just as successful somehow. She thought that some of the older members would’ve enacted a mutiny by now, so she was perplexed that he still remained. Purdue was a perpetual problem!

  The Order of the Black Sun had been through a number of leaders, but she preferred when it was simply the old men sitting around their wooden table. They were easy to manipulate and wrap around her finger. Then Julian Corvus’ siege struck, as a legitimate madman who wouldn't be controlled but also knew better than to try and oppose her and her own plans. David Purdue hadn't even known about her, so she needed to make sure he was aware of the kind of power they wielded. She’d expected to help him find his treasure, show him that they’d allowed it to happen, and then he’d submit. Instead, he’d killed one of her favorite helpers.

  Maddox was an effective tool, but he did sometimes go overboard. He probably got himself into the current mess, but she wouldn't allow his death to go unanswered. David Purdue and his new Order of the Black Sun were responsible, whether they wanted to be or not. ’She'd ensure that they’d pay for this blow.She had files brought to her, so many archives, on everything that the world knew about David Purdue. It was important to know everything about a new player on the board. He’d been an enemy of the Black Sun for so long, but she was never a threat to her, never even aware of her. Now, in his new role as the Black Sun's leader, he was actually worth noticing—and he was already aggravating. She could see why he’d been such a thorn in the previous iteration of the Black Sun's side. She could also see why he’d somehow flipped the tables and was now running the organization that had spent so long trying to get rid of him.

  David Purdue was already an annoyance—and he was very quickly becoming a problem.

  The most important lesson that the old lady had learned in her nine decades on the planet was that if there was a problem in your way, it was best to get rid of it as soon as possible. With that mindset, she’d spent all of those memorable years with very few problems, at least not many that remained obstacles for long. She experienced a nice, easy life without much stress at all, because anything that might add conflict was swiftly removed.

  David Purdue would be removed, and the Order of the Black Sun would either fall back in line or would be decimated.

  Her chair rocked back and forth at a quicker pace than it had in days.

  She smiled.

  This was going to be more fun than she had in decades—at least for her.

  The Order of the Black Sun wouldn’t be enjoying themselves.

  END

  Operation Rubicon

  Prologue

  THE TWENTY-THREE BLADES

  MARCH 15, 44 BC

  There were times, when consulting his colleagues, that Julius Caesar wished that he’d brought his sword to the meeting. A blade would have achieved far more than trying to talk things over and make those men see logically. Even with all of Caesar’s eminent influence and prominent power he’d accumulated, so many of them were still so stubborn and needlessly defiant. They argued for argument's sake, even when Caesar was so clearly in the right. It was hard to make any real positive change when the rest of the world was so determined to stay the same.

  Caesar had only been declared dictator recently, but it was supposed to make him the unquestioned leader. However, countless senators and politicians of Rome continued to question him at every turn. He knew that they were just jealous, fearful little men who thought that he would dissolve their positions altogether. They were petrified he would make himself a monarch and would fundamentally change the Roman Republic—more than he already had—but change was the price for improvement. He hated having to delegate through the senators. Nothing ever got done. All those men did was bicker, waste time, and count their coins. Caesar planned on invading the Parthian Empire but would require the Senate’s support to do it. He wished he could just get them all to agree for once. It would make things so much easier. Instead, the opposition to everything Caesar wanted kept showing that they didn't want unity like he did.

  As happy and satisfied as Caesar was with his position in life, he sometimes longed for the days when he was just a soldier. Back then, marching among the legions, he may not have made the big decisions, but he could settle disagreements with weapons instead of fake flattery and tedious conversations.

  Today was one of those days when he wished he had brought his sword. He yearned to show them that he was still a warrior fighting for the heart of Rome, whether it was on the battlefield or speaking in the Forum. He wanted them to deem him as someone willing to defend their great home at any cost; instead, they just continued to look at him with so much contempt...even more than ever.

  He’d seen those miserable senators and snickering leaders before, but this was something else. He had never witnessed these expressions on his colleagues' faces before; it was more than unhappiness and even more than anger. It was some sort of spiteful resolve, where they looked so serious like they could never smile again.

  Even Brutus, one of Caesar’s closest friends, cast cold glances and lacked any sort of friendliness as Caesar arrived to the Senate.

  One senator, whom Caesar had never been overly fond of, Tillius Climber, approached before Caesar even had a chance to get comfortable. Tillius intercepted before Caesar could give anymore thought to all of those spiteful gazes of the other senators.

  “Caesar,” Climber said frantically, waving a scroll in Caesar's face. “If we could please recall my brother from his long exile. You have the power--.”


  Caesar wasn't in any mood to deal with that in that moment, especially when presented in such an obscene and intrusive way. Caesar preferred to get back to dealing with the more important matters and to assess those unpleasant expressions surrounding him. He tried to wave Climber away, hoping that the man would back down as he should when given an order by his leader. Caesar plowed past him, trying to escape this annoying obstacle, but Climber didn't desist obediently. Instead, his arm flung out and his hand latched onto Caesar's tunic, tearing it. Caesar turned and felt a surge of anger swell over him. Caesar really wanted his sword now, to strike Climber down for such an insult. How dare a lesser man touch him, especially like that?

  Climber still didn't look at all hesitant about what he was doing. In reality, his expression was filled with hostile intent. This hadn't been a mistake. Climber had pulled so hard that Caesar's toga had in fact been ripped off his body.

  “What is it you think you’re doing!?” Caesar roared. “Why, this is violence!”

  There was the unmistakable sound of a blade sliding from a sheath behind him and Caesar turned just in time to see another senator, Servilius Casca, lunging at him with a dagger in his hand. Caesar intercepted the attempted strike, catching Casca's arm and stopping the blade from coming any closer. Casca's eyes were filled with that same thirst for blood that had flashed on Climber's face.

  Caesar had been in enough fights in his career to know when he was being ambushed, and to recognize when a trap was being sprung. Climber's attempt to present Caesar with that petition for his exiled brother was nothing more than a distraction to allow Casca to try and stab Caesar. Luckily, Caesar's reflexes and old training were enough to stop him before any damage was done. This was a fair enough attempt, but they didn't have enough skill to succeed.