A Hunter and His Legion (The Praetorian Series Book 3)

by Edward Crichton

  Helena turned and tracked my movement. “Where are you going?”

  “Getting Penelope,” I answered over my shoulder.

  “Why?” She asked as I disappeared into my tent and moved to my equipment chest. My left hand brushed against my foot locker and I had a thought to retrieve something within, but the thought was gone in an instant so I ignored it.

  Within my equipment chest was all my combat gear, including my MOLLE vest and other pieces of my kit. I already had my pistol strapped to my right thigh, but there hadn’t been a need to be fully kitted up earlier, so I reached in gently and removed Penelope, giving her a quick wipe with my sleeve to remove a smudge on her collapsible stock. I pulled back the cocking lever to reveal the ejection port on its right side and blew into it to expel any dust or dirt that may have collected there. I hadn’t had an opportunity to use the old girl since our battle with Agrippina, so my anticipation only grew at the thought of using her now.

  “Ready to get back in the fight?” I asked Penelope. I twisted her around so that her barrel pointed at my face before tilting her up and down quickly like a dog agreeing with his master. “Oh, yes you are,” I squealed. “Yes you are.”

  I smiled at Penelope and wrapped her sling around my shoulder. I reached back into the chest and retrieved two loaded magazines and stuffed them into a cargo pocket, not needing my MOLLE vest tonight. Finally, I swapped out the reflex sight currently sitting atop my trusty HK 416 assault rifle for my night vision equipped ACOG scope.

  Once all was ready, I stood and turned, only to find my way blocked by Helena, who held her arms crossed against her chest and above ever expanding baby bump. My smile grew as I noticed it and took a step forward to put my hand against her stomach.

  She didn’t flinch or move her arms at my touch.

  “How’s my little guy doing?” I asked.

  “Put it away, Jacob,” Helena said.

  “Put what away?”

  “Penelope. You don’t need it.”

  “Lay off, Helena. I need this.”

  She uncrossed her arms and gripped my hand against her stomach, but instead of holding it lovingly, she ripped it away and threw it aside.

  “Since when have you needed to blow off steam by murdering people!?”

  “This isn’t murder, Helena,” I said. “This is war. Now get out of my way!”

  I pushed past her roughly, but she barely even flinched at the contact. I stormed my way out of the tent with Helena in quick pursuit. Once outside, I noticed the advancing Celts had halved the distance between our two forces, and swore under my breath that I was losing time.

  “Jacob, don’t do this,” Helena said as she followed me around to the back of my praetorium. “Don’t you realize what you’re doing?”

  I ignored her and called up to Cuyler atop his LP/OP. “Get on the line, Gunny. I’ll take it from here.”

  Sergeant Cuyler looked down at me in confusion with his binoculars still held in place. “Sir?”

  “Down,” I ordered.

  The man rarely hesitated, but he made up for it by acting instantly this time. He shouldered his rifle and climbed down the observation platform before dropping to the ground. He stood there, his confused expression still on his face, and he glanced at Helena for information. She stood beside him, hugging herself, but didn’t look at him as I started my ascent.

  “We have contingency plans for a fight like this, Jacob,” she called up to me. “You developed them months ago. We don’t need to fight a force this small.”

  I ignored her as I reached my perch. There was a small chair situated atop the platform with a footrest near its opposite edge. I sunk into the hard, wooden seat and tried to get comfortable, propping my left foot up on the footrest. With my left leg slightly elevated, I shouldered my rifle, placing my left elbow against my thigh for support and sighted through my ACOG. It was completely dark so I flicked on its night vision capabilities and the advancing troops materialized in my scope like they were right in front of me.

  I could have fired in that moment, but I decided to at least see what would happen once the legionnaires cast their first volley, but the Celts were smart, and paused just out of range to continue their taunts and shows of force. I smiled through my scope and mimicked firing my rifle in quick succession, pretending each shot to be a kill shot.

  “Who are you?”

  I heard the voice at the outreaches of my hearing, and didn’t think much of it at first, knowing it was Helena’s and suspecting it must have been directed at someone else. But when silence followed her choice few words, I looked down, and saw her staring up at me intently, Cuyler still at her side. I found his disobedience infuriating.

  How like him.

  “I said get on the line, Cuyler,” I ordered down at him.

  He hesitated again, and with obvious reluctance, looked back at Helena for support but she was too focused on me. He didn’t seem to know what to do, but then he took his leave to join Archer and Brewster. Helena didn’t move, so I turned my attention back to her.

  “Go find Artie and keep her company, Helena.”

  Her jaw dropped at my comment, but instead of anger in her eyes, all I saw was sadness and a sudden determination. Such an expression surprised me, but what was she going to do?

  In answer to my silent question, I saw her grind her teeth together and move away from the LP/OP as she reached into her pocket to retrieve her radio. Confused, but interested, I placed my own radio’s ear bud in my ear to listen in.

  “3-3, this is 3-2. Come in,” Helena transmitted.

  “Santino at your service, sexy pants.”

  “I’m countermanding 3-1’s orders. Have Minicius order all troops to stand down unless directly threatened, and prepare to initiate protocol alpha.”

  “I don’t think you have the authority to do that,” Santino replied, and I smiled proudly, “but I call you sexy pants for a reason, so give me a second.”

  “Copy, meet me at Minicius’ position in two mikes.”

  There was a double click over the radio, and this time it was my turn to open my mouth in shock. I scrambled down off my perch, noticing Helena enter my praetorium, which also happened to be where she still kept her things as well. I dropped five feet to the ground and sprinted to my tent, flinging myself through the entrance to discover Helena rummaging through her equipment container.

  “What the hell are you doing??” I demanded as I stepped forward. “We can’t have these barbarians harrying us all the way to Anglesey. They could recruit more numbers or find better ground to attack us from. What are you…”

  As I was about to ask my final question, I placed my hand roughly on Helena’s shoulder. I hadn’t meant to hurt her or even intimidate her with the gesture, but that’s when, in her search through our gear, she opened my footlocker. An immediate feeling of anger and jealousy overcame me as her frantic search ended with the discovery of something I didn’t want her to find.

  “Jacob… what is…”

  I squeezed my hand against her shoulder tightly as realization set in. She flinched at the grip, but she reacted so quickly that I barely had time to understand what happened next.

  Reaching across her body, she took my hand in her own and wrenched it to the side so forcefully that I doubled over instinctively to keep her from breaking my arm in half. She spun around in the opposite direction to get behind me, and kicked the back of my knee a half second later. I fell to my knees and turned my head to plead for her to stop so that we could talk, but before I had the chance, her left hand was already cutting through the air faster than I could track. It smashed into my jaw and I saw stars flash before my eyes as she let go of my hand and let me fall to the floor.

  She screamed in pain and shook her hand, but didn’t waste any time before retreating from our fight, yelling, “I can’t believe you would hide that from me! How could you betray me like that??” Her words were angry and distant, like she was talking to herself rather than to me. She stum
bled from the tent, but before she was gone, I heard her say, “I just hope that knocked some goddamned sense into you!”

  Three emotions and feelings swirled within me in that moment as I rested upon the ground, my head having fallen to rest atop the footlocker that Helena had slammed shut before punching me. The first was of course anger – lots of it – but it was quickly, and interestingly, replaced with pride. I felt a smile creep onto my face as I remembered my first meeting with Helena, and how she’d nearly punched a hole in my face then as well.

  But then the third feeling crept in: pain, and with it came something else.

  Like a stopper released from a drain, a swell of negativity and darkness flowed into my body from some unknown source. It was as if every negative thought and memory to ever cross my mind suddenly invaded my consciousness all at one moment, and all the pressure and responsibility I’d accumulated over the years whispered to me, coercing me to do something about it, clouding my better judgment.

  I squeezed my eyes shut to push out the thoughts, but a blue light seemed to shine through my eyelids, and I no longer wished to push the darkness away. With the light returned my anger, which fueled my body’s ability to channel the pain I felt in my jaw to revitalize me, and with a quick blink of my eyes, I felt powerful again.

  Punching the earth beside my head with both of my fists, I pushed upwards and got to my knees. I shook my head to fully abolish the cobwebs in my mind from Helena’s assault and prepared to stand, but before I could, an ominous red glare bathed my tent in a sea of color, followed moments later by the deafening sound of an explosion.

  There was a massive cry of fear, but no cries of pain, and in a surge of awareness, I knew the battle was already over. I gritted my teeth and stood, straightening the warm jacket I wore. I put my mask of leadership back on my face and steeled myself, and walked briskly toward the exit, ready to confront the inevitable, unaware that deep within me something was stirring.

  Something glorious.

  ***

  I emerged from my praetorium calmly for the second time tonight. Whatever anger that had consumed me a minute ago was contained now, sequestered away like a massive bubble in my chest that was ready to burst. I felt immense pressure there now, pressing tightly against my lungs and heart, a sensation that made it difficult to think without the interference of my emotions, but I let it simmer for now, no longer needing that anger to drive me.

  Around me, the collective calmness from the legionnaires had dissipated, replaced instead with shouts of good cheer at their bloodless victory. I smiled as well as I strolled toward them, my hands clasped behind my back. It would have been more beneficial to our cause had these interlopers been dealt with more permanently, but a victory was a victory.

  Many legionnaires stood around our perimeter throwing taunts and jeers at the retreating enemy, but those nearest to the center of the camp had Santino hefted in the air, tossing him up and down in jubilation. Santino in turn was of course eating it up, whooping and hollering in celebration along with the Romans, waving his arms like a bird, enticing them to throw him higher and higher.

  Vincent and Archer stood aloof from the show, but Wang, Bordeaux, Gaius, Marcus, Stryker, and Brewster laughed and clapped as Santino slipped through the grips of those who’d launched him into the air and landed hard on the ground with a thump. He looked up at them angrily, but they didn’t even seem to notice as they picked him back up and continued their fun.

  I watched them as I slipped in between Vincent and Archer, who like any good commanders, stood aside, choosing instead to participate silently and distantly. Both men parted to allow me access between them, but both seemed to add excessive distance between us as well. I ignored them as I noticed Helena standing away from the frivolity as well with Cuyler nearby. He watched Santino rise and fall with his usual expressionless neutrality, but I couldn’t help but notice how close the two stood near each other. They weren’t quite touching, but it was clear that Helena had sought someone for comfort after what had just occurred between us.

  I managed to quarantine the jealousy I felt at the sight of them into my chest along with my anger, putting it there for later use.

  I turned to Vincent, jutting my chin out toward Santino as well. “What’d he do?”

  “He and Helena enacted Operation…” he paused and rolled his eyes, “…Operation: Dissuade the Shit out of Them. Protocol alpha.”

  I nodded. Santino and I had come up with the name during our time on the Mediterranean.

  During better times.

  The operation was meant to do just as it said: spook the natives by launching an eerie red flare into the sky, followed by sending up a small bit of C-4 to explode and truly scare the shit out of them. Santino had retrofitted a basic Roman sling to accept the small brick of C-4, but it was a two person operation, with one person launching the flare, followed by the second person slinging the C-4 into the air, and completed by the first person remotely detonating it from a safe distance. It was a dangerous operation and required precise timing to make sure the C-4 wasn’t detonated too early or too late, but it had obviously worked just as we’d hoped.

  “Helena didn’t wait around for the legionnaires to notice who’d enacted the operation,” Vincent explained, although his voice had no humor in it, “but Santino… well, you know how he is.”

  “Of course I do,” I replied. “Think it’ll work again?”

  “Perhaps once more on the same group,” he answered. “Easily again on a different group, but also one I would prefer to try every time we encounter an enemy until it fails to be effective.”

  I eyed him angrily. “You know the reason I didn’t want to use this tactic immediately was because I didn’t want to give it away so early in our journey, right?”

  “As you say,” he said, his tone unchanged.

  “Like Minicius said,” I argued, “the barbarians would have broken off after a single pila volley. It would have been the natural course of such an engagement, even without our presence.”

  Finally, Vincent turned, the smaller man having to look up just a bit to meet my eye. “Is that why you needlessly retrieved your rifle and set up atop the LP/OP?”

  I recoiled at the insinuation. “I can’t help but notice you have your pistol as well, Vincent,” I countered harshly. “These barbarians are tough, and may have broken through our lines. If not for me being up there, the barbarians could have…”

  “In all the time I have known you,” Vincent interrupted, his remaining hand held up in a silencing gesture, “I have never, not once, heard you use the word ‘barbarian’ to reference those we encounter, even without the modern, negative connotation, yet I wonder why it is so readily on the tip of your tongue now…” He leaned in closer to me for a few last words before leaving. “Have you forgotten, Hunter, that you, too, cannot speak Greek?”

  Vincent turned and left, and I scoffed at his retort, turning to Archer to make an off handed comment at Vincent’s expense, but my old SEAL buddy had escaped as well, leaving me alone. I glanced around, wondering where everyone had gone, realizing that not only was I alone, but I was really alone. There was no one around me in any direction, not at any conversational distance anyway.

  I looked up, noticing that Bordeaux and Stryker had contributed their considerable strength to the Santino-tossing effort, and wondered if they were still throwing him out of happiness for his efforts, or if they were simply testing how far he could fall before he got hurt.

  I decided to seek out Helena, but while Cuyler remained, a smile on his face now at the Santino-antics, Helena was gone. I swiveled my head around and searched for her, but she was nowhere to be found. My first thought was that she’d retreated back to my praetorium to rest after the night’s exertions, but when I turned to walk toward it, I had to pull up short so that I didn’t knock Artie over, who had been standing just behind me unexpectedly, her arms crossed.

  “Artie,” I said. “Sorry. Didn’t see you there. Glad to
see you’re okay though. Where’ve you been these days?”

  She offered me a sneer of a smile, one completely without humor. “I’m happy you’re so concerned for my wellbeing, Jacob.”

  I looked at her curiously. “I was concerned.”

  “I know you were.”

  “Is there a problem, Diana?”

  “I don’t know. Is there?”

  “Are we going to do this all night?” I asked, growing annoyed at her silliness. “Because I really don’t have time for it.”

  “No, I’m done,” she answered. “Don’t worry.”

  “Good,” I said as I maneuvered around her to approach my praetorium.

  “You’re lucky,” Artie called from behind me just before I could enter.

  I stopped and twisted at the waist to look at her. “Lucky for what?”

  “That you have an image of leadership to maintain.”

  I spun all the way around so that I faced her. “And why’s that?”

  She took a defiant few steps forward and poked a finger into my chest. “Because you’d be sleeping in the latrines tonight if not for the fact that those impressionable toy soldiers out there expect you to be their leader, and you are therefore given the privilege of sleeping in that tent.”

  I pushed new anger into my chest so that I kept myself from striking her. “Enough with the riddles, Diana! Get to the point.”

  “Stay away from her, Jacob,” Artie said in a tone I’d never heard from her before. “I’m warning you. Stay. Away.”

  She started to walk away, but I took a step forward and reached for her arm. “Stay away from who…”

  But before I could finish, she whirled around and threw both hands into my chest, pushing me backward. I stumbled but kept my footing, but the tears in her eyes now only made me feel worse, making it impossible for me to draw on the anger in my chest to direct against her.

  “Stay away from us, Jacob,” she said threateningly with a finger pointed in my direction, tears dripping from her chin. “You say Archer doesn’t know who you are but the fact is that nobody knows who you are anymore!”