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Order of the Black Sun Box Set 11

Page 33

by Preston William Child


  “See?” Mr. Nero snickered. “Then this fight isn't over. Not quite yet.”

  Suddenly, both of Mr. Nero's hands grabbed onto the old blade, and he yanked the sword out of Nina's grasp. She let out a shriek of panic and tried to snatch it back from him but he swung hard, hitting her in the face with the pommel of the weapon. Nina fell to the floor of the Hypogeum, her whole head ringing with pain. When she could open her eyes through the pain, she looked up and found the masked man standing over, pointing the sword down in her face.

  The Third Triumvirate had secured the sword of Caesar.

  Nina wanted to kick herself for her failure. She should’ve run him through with the sword instead of how she just stood there like a fool while he waited for his opportunity. She’d stabbed an enemy once before with a much different blade. The consequences of that decision hadn't been good. She thought sparing him in this instance would be a good decision, but now, it would probably be what caused the end of her. Mr. Nero wasn't going to return the favor. He was going to finish this like a gladiator would, like Nina should have. There was no stopping it now. That silly mask on his face would be one of the last things she saw before she died.

  “You were so close,” Mr. Nero said, speaking in a fake sympathetic voice. “But you didn't have the stomach to fight in this place. This Colosseum has always had one simple doctrine that it goes by. That rule is kill or be killed. It's simple, but you couldn't even manage that. You just had to take the moral high ground. Morals don't exist in this place, Dr. Gould. You really should’ve realized that. This is no place for mercy or staying your hand, not unless the emperor instructed you. And seeing as there’s no emperor here, you should’ve fought until your enemy was dead.”

  “You love to hear yourself talk...” Nina muttered from the floor, staring right at the sharp tip of the blade that was in her face. It was inches away from her eyeball. “I'm sorry I didn't kill you.”

  Mr. Nero laughed again but then his attention shifted to the sword that he was holding. “Caesar had good taste. This sword feels so nice to hold, perfectly balanced. Can you imagine how many people fell to this sword all those years ago? How many different bloodlines he severed with it? You should be honored. You get to join that long line of victims? The first to die by this sword in thousands of years.”

  “You sound jealous,” Nina mumbled . “Give me the sword back and I can change that.”

  “This really didn't have to be this difficult, Dr. Gould,” Mr. Nero said. “If you'd just handed us the sword, everything would’ve worked out okay for you. You would be leaving Italy right now, going back to whatever hole you came from. Our terms were so reasonable, if you ask me.”

  “I wasn't going to give it to a bunch of criminals and murderers,” Nina insisted. “I highly doubt Julius Caesar would’ve wanted that. I was never going to follow through on your offer. Not ever.”

  “Well, it doesn't really matter, does it?” Mr. Nero said and she could practically see his smile behind those frozen lips. “I ended up with it anyway. All of your efforts were for nothing besides giving this to us...the people who will use it to carve a new future for Rome. It won't just be a simple city anymore. It’s going to be so much more again.”

  Mr. Nero raised Caesar's sword over his head, ready to deal the killing strike.

  Police sirens suddenly rang out and at least a dozen men came pouring into the Colosseum. Mr. Nero looked around seemingly calmly but it was just the mask that made him seem so unfazed. Behind that false face, he must’ve been trembling. How could he not be? The sick game he was playing was over and with that, all of his hopes and dreams of bringing back Ancient Rome would be washed away.

  Mr. Nero still stood over Nina, Caesar's sword in hand, ready to bring it down to execute her. Just one swift movement and Nina knew she’d be gone. She’d be bleeding out before any of the police got anywhere near her to try to help. Hopefully, Mr. Nero would catch a bullet before he could stab her. She just hoped that the police could resolve this, but she’d no idea how they got there.

  Police officers surrounded them. Some were in the tunnels of the Hypogeum close by while others were standing over the pit, their weapons pointed downward at Mr. Nero.

  “Lower the weapon!” The police ordered Mr. Nero to drop the sword, but Mr. Nero’s head just tilted to one side curiously, like he was trying to figure out what was happening, or how he was going to get out of it. His head then swung in all different directions, maybe looking for an escape route but there wasn't one. He was completely surrounded.

  “I'll be taking that sword then,” Elijah said, walking up from the within the crowd of policemen and holding out an expectant hand. He seemed to have recovered well enough after getting knocked out of the fight.

  Elijah did this. He’d called the police. Nina had gone through so much effort just to get away from their entanglement with the police, to keep them from tracking them to the sword's location...and now here they were, at the sword's location. She felt a sudden urge to scream at Elijah, but it passed just as suddenly. He may have called the police without telling them, but his choice to go behind their backs might’ve ended up saving their lives.

  Mr. Nero looked in Elijah's direction. For a moment, it looked like he might just cut Elijah down; one last victim to take down before the cops enveloped. Or Mr. Nero could decide to stab Nina instead; he still had the sword pointed right at her. He was probably contemplating both of those options. Or maybe he was pondering the third option—where he surrendered and simply relinquished the sword?

  Mr. Nero chose the third option and lowered the weapon before handing it to Elijah. Elijah looked surprised by the lack of resistance but Mr. Nero clearly knew when the battle was over and there was no chance of victory.

  “Interrupting a fight in the Colosseum...” Mr. Nero said softly. His voice sounded so distant behind the mask now. He must’ve realized that all of those deranged dreams were just that; Rome wasn't going to become some unstoppable empire again. “Receiving help from outside of the arena...an emperor would have killed someone for such a disgraceful act.”

  Nina got to her feet and brushed herself off briefly. “Well, then it's a good thing that all of the emperors are dead and they're never coming back. We're not gladiators, and you're not saviors of Rome. You're just criminals and criminals don't get to create new empires. Criminals go to prison.”

  The police had poured into the Colosseum, dozens of them, and were quickly rounding up the Third Triumvirate. A group of them found Monica in the audience stands, holding her bloody face. It took a few police officers to lift a beaten down Mr. Commodus off of the floor of the Colosseum where they also helped August to his feet. Nina didn't want the police to be involved in any of this, but she had to admit, she was glad they’d showed up when they did. A couple of them came up to Mr. Nero and slapped handcuffs on him, leading him away.

  A familiar face appeared among all of the police officers—Inspector Donatello Amaro. He stood out among his peers thanks to his long hair, beard, and more casual attire. His badge shone brightly on his belt though and he trotted forward causally, straight to Nina. He glanced over a the restrained Mr. Nero and showed his uncomfortably thin smile before turning his attention back to Nina.

  “You know, a lot of this disaster could’ve been prevented if you’d have just let me and my men keep watch over you...you didn't have to throw yourself from a moving vehicle.”

  “This never would’ve happened at all...we never would have been able to find the sword or catch the Third Triumvirate if you lot were staring over our shoulders the whole time. This is how it had to happen.”

  “Fair enough,” Inspector Amaro said with a shrug. “Your stunt was mildly impressive, I'll admit. It couldn't have been easy to pull off. Your gamble did pay off in the end. It seems you made all of the right shots. Well, almost of the right shots. Your friend, Mr. Dane made the call to us. Without that contact, you might have that sword in your heart right now. At least give us credi
t for that...or who knows? Maybe you would’ve been able to get out of it yourself?”

  “You want me to thank you? You should be thanking us? We’ve practically delivered the Third Triumvirate to you.”

  “I see that,” Amaro said and waved his men to bring Mr. Nero over to him. “And as promised, I will see to it that this group of petty thieves are brought to justice...without those silly masks...”

  Inspector Amaro ripped the mask off Nero's face and revealed a young, hateful face beneath. Mr. Nero was a young man but his eyes were sunken into a spiteful permanent leer. His eyes seemed to hate everything that they saw—it was him against the entire world.

  Inspector Amaro laced his fingers together and stood proudly in front of his quarry. “You’ve gotten awfully quiet now that you’re no longer hiding your face. Those little letters of yours suggested a much more boastful personality...someone who was so sure of himself. Or did one of your two friends write those letters? The big one perhaps? That’d be a surprise.”

  The unmasked Mr. Nero spat on the ground in front of Amaro and shook his head. “You’re all just getting in the way of the inevitable. You think that we’re the only ones that want to see Rome back to how it used to be?”

  “Perhaps not,” Inspector Amaro acknowledged. “There are plenty of imbeciles in the world.”

  Mr. Nero launched a wad of saliva from his mouth again and this time it caught Inspector Amaro's cheek. He looked stunned for a second but then wiped it away with two fingers, looking more annoyed and perplexed than disgusted.

  “You can hate me if you want. Go on. Add me to those proscriptions of yours. Let’s see how much good a hit list will do you from behind bars. Something tells me...it won't be quite as effective.”

  As Monica was being led away in handcuffs, Nina stared at the woman. Monica seemed so utterly different from the woman that Nina had spoken with outside of the Palazza Nuovo; the woman that had been weeping and scared. It was such a convincing act. Maybe instead of robbing museums and killing former bosses, Monica would’ve had better luck on stage in some theater somewhere?

  Nina was still trying to figure out what had cracked inside of Monica’s mind to make her go through with this. There was something so warped, her skull was as fractured as the mask that she used to wear.

  This may be Nina’s last chance to ever speak with the mysterious Miss Caligula, and Nina wasn't going to let that opportunity go to waste.

  “Was it worth it?” Nina asked, stepping up to the enchained woman.

  The police looked annoyed by the interruption, but they let Nina continue to talk to her. After all, Nina had helped catch her. Perhaps they still felt a little indebted to Nina and her team? At least, that's what Nina liked to think.

  Monica looked at Nina, but there was nothing but venom in Monica’s eyes. Monica was seething with hatred. Nina expected as much. Nina had ruined Miss Caligula's plans, after all. Though, even if they’d gotten the sword, it would’ve been quite the challenge to somehow make Rome a world superpower again. It was too ambitious of a goal, one that three people definitely couldn't accomplish on their own. Maybe they could have recruited more people to their cause, but it’d take a whole populace, or at least the most powerful people of one, to actually make the changes that they wanted.A sharp smile stretched across Monica's lips. It was so hideous, an expression that didn't belong on a human face. Nina almost wished that she could put that Caligula mask back on the woman.

  “Of course it was worth it.”

  It didn't make sense, but Nina shouldn't have been surprised. After all, Miss Caligula was just as deranged as her namesake.

  “You didn't get the sword.”

  “No...” Monica snickered. “But we may have forged a sword even better than Julius Caesar's. Our sword is one that can penetrate the mind, stab people's thoughts. It's already finding new bodies to pierce.”

  “What the hell are you going on about?”

  “We may have been stopped from stealing a few trinkets from museums. We may be on our way to prison. It doesn't matter. None of that matters. All you are doing is giving us even more of a spotlight, even more of a pedestal to stand on. This arrest...all of this...will just make our message so much louder than ever. They’ll hear why we did this. They will hear about a better Rome, a return to a greater Rome. Look.” Monica turned to one of the police man standing by her. “Our sword has probably already pierced this one's head, hasn't it? He can hear what I'm saying...and he doesn't just hear it...he understands it. Isn't that right?”

  The policeman looked away and Monica's ugly grin grew twice as large.

  “See? All you've done is helped us, given us a microphone. You can keep your rusty old sword. Ours is much sharper than Caesar's could ever be.”

  “You can keep spreading your message while you rot,” Nina said. “See how much it was worth it then.”

  The unmasked Miss Caligula was taken away. Her two accomplices followed close behind her. Both of the men looked much less enthusiastic about the prospect of imprisonment than Monica did. They clearly weren't as confident that their message had been spread as Monica was.

  16

  THE ODD MAN'S REQUEST

  “I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for the sword.”

  Nina froze. She couldn't believe what just came out of Amaro's mouth. He’d no right to request that of her or her team. He hadn't put in the work like they had. He just showed up and looked at some crime scenes and made a few arrests. Otherwise, he’d nothing to do with the search for Caesar's sword. His only connection was hearing about it from Nina, something she now really regretted.

  “That's not going to happen,” Nina warned. “You’re not getting the sword.”

  Inspector Amaro just displayed that thin, knowing smile, like he’d already calculated how this conversation was going to end. Yet he was in for a rude awakening because no amount of clever manipulation or the power of law enforcement was going to convince Nina to hand the sword over to him.

  “That was never part of any agreement that we made. I got you the Third Triumvirate. That's more than enough of a prize to bring back to your superiors, don't you think?”

  “It's curious that you suddenly care about the arrangements we made,” Inspector Amaro said tiredly. “Considering the lengths you went to get out of it. You literally leaped from a moving vehicle to get away from our protection. You’re right, our initial deal had nothing to do with us getting the sword of Caesar in the end...but that deal also included us being allowed to provide you with an escort for the remainder of your search. You politely and very gently declined our protection when you threw yourself from my car...so that deal we made...means nothing.”

  The detective kept that same passive oddness that he always exuded. There wasn't any real spite in his voice: he was just saying everything as if it was already decided, but she wouldn't let him convince her of the same. It wasn't decided—not even close. Yes, she’d run away from Inspector Amaro's police escort but that shouldn't mean that she should surrender the sword.

  Elijah still held the sword, standing awkwardly between Nina and Inspector Amaro. He straightened his glasses, like he was trying to see a way out of this, but it wasn't quite clear to him. Inspector Amaro took a step toward Elijah and held out an open hand to take the sword.

  “Mr. Dane, you called us to come get you out of this mess. We did that, without any hesitation despite how determined Dr. Gould was to refuse our help before. We came anyway, and because of that, we saved all of your lives. The least your group could do in return is give Caesar's sword over to us.”

  “Was this your plan from the start?” Nina blurted out angrily. “You heard about what I was after, so you decided to force your 'police protection' on us so you could be close by whenever we did find the sword. You wanted to ride our coattails straight to the sword so you could take it for yourself.”

  “It belongs here in Rome, not with...whatever this dysfunctional little group of yours is...”

/>   “The Order of the Black Sun.” Nina said the name before she even realized it, and she spoke the words so strongly that it seemed to hit the inspector like a brick wall. “The Order of the Black Sun found this sword and the Order of the Black Sun will be the ones to decide what to with it.” She held out her hand to Elijah. “I’ll be the one to decide what to do with it.”

  Elijah handed the blade over to her, but looked uncomfortable about it. He was still worried that she was going to give it over the Palazza Nuovo rather than take it back home to be stored away in the deep vaults like the rest of their relics. She hadn't quite decided on that part yet, but she knew for certain that she wasn't going to willingly hand it over to the police.

  “The Order of the Black Sun,” Inspector Amaro repeated the words, looking up at the sky. He pulled out his little note pad and scribbled down some notes. He spoke again, not looking up from his doodling. “And what exactly is the Order of the Black Sun?”

  “None of your business,” Nina said. “All you need to know is that we're not going to let you choose what happens to this sword.”

  She felt more powerful than she ever had before. Her words had real strength behind them now because everything she proclaimed was backed by the secret society that used to be her enemy. That power she used to fear was now tucked away in her pocket, ready to be used when necessary.

  “I could have you arrested...” Inspector Amaro said halfheartedly, still entirely focused on the notes he was taking.

  August balked, barely able to stand from the injuries he sustained from Mr. Commodus. “Arrested for what? Refusing police protection or for calling the police to stop a crime?”

  “For attempting to leave with evidence,” Inspector Amaro said, just briefly glancing up from his notes. “Or for trespassing in this Colosseum, stealing something from its property.”

  “You’re not going to do that,” Nina insisted, shaking her head. She wasn't so sure of that, but she was hoping that she was calling his bluff.

 

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