The Last Roman: Book One: Exile

by B. K. Greenwood

  "Open that one, DNA Stabilizer."

  "K."

  A 3D rendition of a chemical formula popped up on the screen. Sam returned and handed Sebastien his drink.

  "What is that?" Marcus asked.

  "No clue, man," Sebastian said.

  "It's a formula for a drug." Sam took a sip from a water bottle she had opened.

  "How do you know?" Marcus was surprised.

  "I was pre-med, remember?"

  "No."

  "Well, you paid for it." Sam pointed to the following file. "What about that, Growth accelerator?"

  Again, another formula.

  They found several more in the same folder.

  "Anything else to look for?" Sebastien glanced from Marcus to Sam.

  Marcus remembered something. "What about his phone?"

  "Oh, yeah." Sam dug into her backpack and pulled out the dead man's phone, handing it to Sebastien. "Can we unlock this?"

  "Give him the, you know…" Marcus said.

  She pulled a baggy from her backpack and held it up for Sebastien.

  "Whoa, is that a thumb?" he asked.

  "Yep." Marcus smiled.

  "Gnarly!" Sebastien held up the iPhone. "Well, this doesn't have a fingerprint sensor. It uses facial recognition. And even if it did, it requires an electrical circuit…a live hand."

  Sam glared at Marcus.

  "What can I say? I was in a hurry," Marcus grumbled.

  "Anyway, I'll see if I can reset his phone from his email. Give me a few minutes."

  Marcus and Sam moved a few feet away and conferred as Sebastien worked.

  "Drugs?" Marcus frowned. "I don't get it. Was Schumacher stealing these formulas to sell?"

  "Possibly, but it doesn't seem to fit his profile."

  "And the blood?"

  "Samples of the drugs or the effects of the drugs?" she said. "But why would Thomas have the formulas in the first place? To make money?"

  "I don't think so…he's made plenty through the more traditional methods. But, he doesn't want to be rich, just to be rich. He wants to use that money to achieve his actual goals."

  "And what are they?"

  Marcus paused. "I don't know, but I know who will."

  "Someone in Rome?"

  "Yep. I have an idea."

  Before she could reply, Sebastian called them over.

  "Guys."

  "Wow, that was quick." Sam walked back toward the desk.

  "No, we got a problem." He pointed to a security camera. A group of four men was in the lobby. The outside camera showed two black Suburbans.

  "How do you know they are looking for us?" Marcus said.

  "Look," Sebastien pulled up another screen. It was the revolving door, except it was an x-ray screen. "I have a scanner in the door."

  The video showed two of the men in the doorway as it revolved. The silhouette of handguns and submachine guns glowed bright white against the screen.

  "How could they have found us?" Sam set down her water bottle.

  Sebastien looked at the phone in his hand. "Did you take this from one of them?"

  "Yes, but I turned it off," Marcus said.

  "The battery is still attached. The phone will still be in standby mode. If they installed tracking software, they could activate it anytime."

  "Well, why did they wait so long?" Sam asked.

  "They could have been waiting to see where we went," Marcus said.

  "Or, it took them time to gain access to the network. They would need to hack in or get a government order to get access." Sebastien handed Marcus back the phone. "Either way, you need to take that and get out of here."

  "Of course." Marcus looked up at the camera and the desk within the screen. "My gun is there."

  He looked back at Sebastien.

  "Don't look at me; I'm just a teenager. I don't have any guns."

  "Yeah…" Marcus looked around. "I don't suppose you have a secret exit?"

  "Do I seem like someone who doesn't have a secret exit?" He scoffed. "Follow me."

  Sebastien led them away from the elevator.

  "Take the phone for a few blocks or a mile, then ditch it." Sebastien pushed open a door that led into the bathroom. A small panel on the wall opened to allow access to shut off the water pipe.

  "I don't think we're going to fit in there," Sam said.

  Sebastien faked a smile, then reached inside and pulled a lever. A portion of the tile wall swung back.

  "This leads to the bathroom of the Starbucks down the street. When you reach the end wall, if the light is green, the bathroom is empty. You can pull the latch, and a door will open."

  "Okay, thanks." Sam stepped inside.

  "You gonna be alright?" Marcus paused.

  "Yeah, they won't suspect a 14-year-old kid."

  Nodding, Marcus ducked into the opening.

  "Hey," Sebastien called after them. "Make sure you send my money!"

  The bathroom was empty, so Sam crept out first. Marcus waited a minute before following. Several customers watched them slip past the counter and stop near the front door. Marcus peered outside the window, then at Sam.

  "I'm going to take the phone downtown. You wait 10 or 15 minutes and head to the safe house. Don't go back to the apartment."

  "Are you sure we should split up?"

  "Yes, I have more options when I'm alone." He met her gaze. "If you don't hear from me within four hours, get out of Paris. You know what to do after that."

  She swallowed and nodded. "Be careful."

  "You too."

  With that, he disappeared out the door.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.

  Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

  —Martin Luther King

  64 A.D.

  Rome

  "In here."

  Thomas turned his attention to the cell door. He waited for the voice to continue, but all he could hear was the growls of hungry lions. He stood and moved to the door, looking out through the rusty bars. It was not morning yet, but they must be coming for them early. Standing tall, he brushed the hay from his tunic and faced the door.

  The flicker of torchlight filled the small opening as a key slipped into the lock. A few moments later, the hinges groaned in protest as the door swung open. By now, the others in the cell were beginning to stir, some moving to stand beside Thomas. A few moments later, a pair of men stepped through the door, the taller of the two holding a torch. A smile erupted from Thomas's face when he recognized one of them.

  "Nico!" Thomas hugged his old friend.

  "Thomas!" Nico returned his embrace, then pulled away, a look of relief on his face. "Thank God we aren't too late!"

  "No, I think we go tomorrow."

  "Rebecca? Isabella?"

  "We are here." Isabella stepped forward, then turned and motioned back toward the corner of the room.

  A woman sat on the floor, her back against the wall. Two small children lay in the straw, their heads resting on her lap. Nico closed the distance between them and knelt beside her. The flickering torchlight danced across her delicate features.

  "How are you?" Nico asked.

  "I'm fine," Rebecca replied and looked down at the pair of dirty faces. "We have to get them out of here."

  "I know. We will." Nico stood and glanced around the room, trying to count the shadowy figures. His face twisted into a grimace as he turned toward his companion, a man with dark features and a darker scowl. The man shook his head.

  Frowning, Nico asked Thomas, "How many?"

  "Twenty adults and two children."

  "Too many!" growled the stranger. "We'll never make it out."

  Nico pulled the man aside, but Thomas could still hear the conversation.

  "You know what they are doing to these people…we cannot leave them."

  Thomas watched the man scan the group and decided it was time they met.

  "You must be Marcus?" Thomas steppe
d forward, hand extended.

  "Yes." Marcus returned his grip. "He didn't say there would be so many."

  "There were nearly fifty yesterday." Thomas lowered his voice so the others could not hear. "Nero burned half of them alive. Like human torches. His punishment for setting Rome on fire."

  Marcus's expression was cold, hard. "We'd never make it out."

  "What if we go in small groups?" Nico asked.

  Marcus looked back through the door, shaking his head. "There are soldiers everywhere. It's not worth the risk." He looked back at Thomas. "I can take one group, no more than five. You choose which."

  Very calculating, Thomas thought, typical Roman.

  "What if we create a diversion?" Isabella had been lingering just outside their group.

  "Like what?" Nico stepped aside so she could join them.

  "The lion cages are right across the hallway…what if we released them?" She looked from Nico to Marcus. "Wouldn't that keep the guards occupied?"

  Thomas watched the Roman. Marcus had a strange expression on his face that might have been mistaken for a smile.

  "Stay here." Marcus disappeared out the door, pulling it shut behind him.

  "That's him?" Isabella asked. "He looks different…but the same."

  "We've all changed," Nico replied. "I'll explain more later when everyone is safe."

  Thomas and Nico were giving instructions to the group when the angry roar of a lion interrupted them. It was soon followed by several more hisses and sputters. The entire group held its breath, staring at the cell door. Then, a couple of minutes later, the growls faded into an eerie silence.

  Moving toward the door, Thomas peered into the darkness. Torchlight moving toward him, so he stepped back and waited for the door to open. A familiar groan filled the room as the door gave way, and Marcus stepped through, handing the torch to Nico. The Roman held his left arm close to his body, blood flowing from a nasty gash just above his wrist.

  "How bad is it?" Nico held the torch above the wound.

  "Bad enough," Marcus replied.

  Rebecca, now standing with the two children, ripped a strip of cloth from her tunic. She motioned for Marcus to hold his arm out. He scowled at her but extended it anyway and watched as she wrapped the wound and tied the end tight. Their eyes met for a moment before he looked toward Thomas.

  "We need to get everyone moving," Marcus said as he grabbed a torch from a barrel near the door.

  He lit it from the one Nico held, then set off down the tunnel. When they reached the first intersection, he directed them to his right and turned toward Nico.

  "Follow this tunnel, and you will reach a cistern. Climb down into it, and you will see an overflow tunnel leading out of the sewers. Follow that until you come to a metal grate near the exit. It is on a hinge so that it can be moved for cleaning."

  "And you will be right behind us?"

  "I hope."

  Nico glanced up the tunnel they had used to enter the dungeon, now blocked by several chairs and a broken table.

  "Will that stop the lions from coming back?"

  "No." The torchlight danced off his features.

  "It seems to be working so far," Nico replied.

  The words had barely escaped his lips when a low growl filled the tunnel. A pair of glowing yellow eyes punctured the darkness, making the barricade seem much less imposing.

  "Go!" Marcus drew his sword.

  Nico led them down the dark tunnel, the snarl of a lion echoing behind them.

  A few minutes later, they found the cistern, and one by one, Nico and Thomas helped each person over the edge and down a set of iron rungs. Fifteen feet down, they huddled on a narrow ledge in front of the small passageway that served as the overflow.

  Thomas followed Nico down, squeezing past the others as he crouched and moved into the small tunnel. Reaching the end, he knelt before a metal grate. Grabbing it with both hands, he leveraged his legs against the wall and pulled it forward. The metal scraped across the wet stone but only moved an inch or two. Taking another deep breath, Thomas grunted and pulled again. It gave a few inches more, but it would not swing free.

  "I wonder how long it has been since this was last moved?" Thomas puffed and sat back on his haunches.

  "Let me help." Nico squeezed in beside him.

  Taking a deep breath, Thomas counted down. "Three, two, one, pull!"

  Together, they strained against the grate, which gave up every inch with stubborn reluctance. Finally, the grate cleared the narrowest part of the tunnel and swung free of the opening.

  Drenched in sweat, Thomas wiped his brow and, leaning forward, crawled through the opening. The tunnel was now a pipe extending three feet from the building's wall. They were four or five feet above the sloping banks of a wide ditch that ran the length of the structure. Scattered clouds filled the dark sky, hiding any remnants of the descending moon. Outlines of the nearby buildings crowded in around them and cast dark shadows across the channel. He studied the opposite bank, which rose ten feet above him, but he did not see any guards. Turning back, he found Nico and Isabella waiting near the grating.

  "Have them start coming out,' he said.

  "All right," Isabella replied as she disappeared into the darkness.

  The passage was stifling, despite the cool evening breeze seeping in from beyond the opening. Sweat was pouring down their faces when Isabella finally returned, the others gathering behind her.

  "You first," Thomas motioned toward a middle-aged man. "When you get to the far side, help the others climb the bank. Then move into the shadows of the nearest building. Wait for us there."

  "Understood," the man replied as he squeezed by and moved to the end of the pipe.

  Turning, he swung his legs out the passage, and Thomas held his arms until he was suspended above the muddy bank. When Thomas let him go, the man crumpled into the mud but stood and made his way across the trench. One by one, they helped everyone out until only Nico, Isabella, Thomas, and the two children remained.

  "You two go," Thomas said, "and I'll lower them to you."

  Nodding, Nico swung out and disappeared into the darkness. Isabella went next, and then Thomas lifted the young girl and swung her out the opening. She started to whimper.

  "It'll be fine, little one," Thomas assured her. "We're almost home."

  The moonlight reflected off her tiny face. It was full of fear and doubt.

  "We are almost home, I promise." He winked, and she nodded in return.

  Thomas leaned forward and lowered her to Isabella. Next, Thomas handed the young boy to Nico, and then he swung around and dropped onto the muddy bank. Together, the group moved across the ditch and up the opposite side. Kneeling in the darkness, Nico looked toward the nearby shadows, then back toward the tunnel.

  "Nico?" Thomas studied his dirt-encrusted features. He could tell Nico was thinking about going back. "We don't know where to go. You have to show us."

  Nico ran a mud-covered hand through his gray hair and nodded. "Let's go. Be sure to keep the children quiet."

  They stood and, together, looked back at the dark opening one more time. Their eyes met, then they turned and disappeared into the shadows.

  A small group of the adults huddled around the fireplace, murmuring amongst themselves. The two children were sleeping in a second-floor bedroom under Rebecca's watchful eye. The others were in nearby safe houses. Isabella sat at a small table, picking at a piece of leaven bread while Thomas nursed a cup of wine and gazed blankly at the crackling fire. Nico stared at the door.

  Dawn was just around the corner, but they would not be moving until the following night. The Emperor would not be happy, and his Praetorian guard would be scouring the city. Staying in Rome would be dangerous, but trying to leave during the day would be suicidal.

  Thomas turned toward Nico. "What happened after he resurrected? Your letters were pretty vague. They only said the Emperor took his family, and you were going after them."

  "That's
true, but we split up is Massilia. He hired a ship and went looking for them." Nico shrugged. "You asked me to stay with him, so I did my best to follow."

  "How?"

  "I followed the trail of bodies."

  Isabella glared at Thomas.

  "But he moved faster than standard transport," Nico said. "It took me nearly two years to find him. By then, he had found his wife. She died soon after. He was still looking for his children when I caught up to him in Parthia."

  "Why Parthia?" Isabella asked.

  "He was out of leads on the kids. So he was chasing down slavers."

  "Slavers?" Thomas was cupping his wine but not drinking.

  "Yeah. All of them." Nico reached forward and poured himself a cup of wine. "He had already killed the slavers on the ship that took his wife and kids. And the auctioneers. And the buyers. The children changed hands several times, so that trail went cold in Arabia. Somewhere along the way, he decided that the world was a better place without slavers."

  "Sounds dangerous," Isabella said.

  "It was. He died twice in the first year I was with him. But he always agreed to meet me after he resurrected, so we were able to reconnect in prearranged cities."

  "Why would he meet up with you again?" Thomas asked.

  "I don't know. We never talked about it. But I think he needed someone, anyone." Nico shrugged. "Everything he had was gone. I think I was his only connection to the world."

  Isabella leaned forward. "And why would you want to stay with such a cold-blooded killer?"

  Nico turned his head to the side, a confused look on his face. "What else would I do? Perhaps I could help him deal with his pain. Maybe even stop him from killing. Aren't we taught to help those most in need?"

  "I supposed. I don't know if I could have stayed with him," Isabella replied.

  "It took me years, but I think he's coming around."

  "You think?" Isabella raised her eyebrows.

  "It's a start."

  "And his children?" Thomas asked.

  Nico sat in silence, looking down into his cup. His lips quivered as he replied, "We never found them." He met Isabella’s gaze, a single tear running down his cheek. "Not knowing is the worst. It's killing him inside."