He held out a hand in my direction. “Wait, sir, this is not as it appears. She…”
Agrippina pulled herself into a tight ball as she screamed, “Jacob, help me!”
Like a trigger word going off in the back of my mind, her cry for help was all that was needed to spur me into action. I lifted my pistol, took aim, and fired off a single round at the man atop Agrippina. It impacted between his eyes and blew out the backside of his head.
There was no way I could miss at this range.
I snapped my pistol to the left and sent two bullets flying almost on top of one another at the remaining pair of targets in the room, each bullet striking a man in similar fashion as the first. All three were dropping or slumping to their final resting places as I started to spin around to face the hallway, remembering that there were still two other men to deal with. However, due to my position within the doorframe, I had to lower my pistol before I could raise it again to bear down range, which was more than enough time for the remaining pair of men to rush at me from the room opposite us before I could lift my pistol again.
They had no way of knowing what exactly had caused the loud blasts that had killed their friends, nor had they any idea that their friends had even been killed by those same blasts, but I’d noted the warrior-like demeanor the quintet had exuded earlier, and was not surprised that they had taken swift action at the first sound of trouble.
They were nearly on me in a second, and I had zero time to lift my pistol for a kill shot, but I wasn’t worried, wasn’t panicking, and wasn’t about to give them an opportunity to overtake me. Survival on the field of battle was all about instinct, reaction-time, and situational awareness. Knowing exactly where I was and how to react to any situation that may arise was crucial to surviving any encounter. It wasn’t easy, which is why training and experience was essential.
And I had plenty of both.
I may still have been in the motion of lifting my pistol, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have a shot, so I simply fired, and then fired again. The first shot went off when my pistol was still pointing at the ground, while the second went off just above that, but the end result was exactly what I’d hoped for. My first shot took the man in the ankle, and the second in his midsection, however, it only seemed to graze his side since the recoil from the first shot and improper firing stance skewed my aim. He wasn’t dead, although it was only a matter of time, but I’d done enough to eliminate a threat from my immediate surroundings as I continued to lift my pistol for the kill shot on the last man.
Unfortunately, like me, the last man’s battle acumen seemed well-conditioned, and was perhaps even as sharp as my own. There was no way for him to have ever prepared for a battle against a man with a pistol, no way for such a scenario to have ever even entered his primitive mind, but still he took in my action with a thought and compensated for it perfectly.
Instead of reacting stupidly, he ascertained the lethality of my pistol and realized it was important to stay out of its line of sight. So, instead of staying up right, he simply ducked and shouldered the man in front of him like a quarterback pushing his center forward in a quarterback sneak play, thrusting the dying man directly at me. I’d already fired a third shot by then, but it cleared the last man’s head by half a foot, and I didn’t have time to shift my aim again before the dying man’s body careened into me, forcing me to sidestep out of the way before it took me to the ground along with it.
But the ground was my final destination anyway, as the remaining man hammered his way into me, driving me to the ground like an MMA fighter taking his opponent to the mat. But I didn’t go down completely on his terms. Had I been struck by the dying man’s body, I may not have been ready to intercept the knife now held in my attacker’s hand, but since I’d managed to maintain some control over the fight, I’d had enough time to drop my pistol and catch the man’s forearm with both of my hands before he drove the knife point into my eye.
Dropping my pistol was a risky decision, but it saved my life. I hadn’t been ready for the last man’s ability to weigh combat tactics heartbeat for heartbeat, and had nearly lost my life because of it. But again, I knew what I was doing, and although I had lost my pistol as the two of us hit the ground, I’d saved my life. This wasn’t a moment for panic. Each action and reaction was its own chess move on the board, and it was time to rethink my strategy. I may have lost an advantage, but I’d gained one as well as the man’s own first strike hadn’t succeeded either. Now, it was just a matter of regaining the upper hand again by determining his next move before I…
But I wouldn’t need a next move.
The man was far stronger than I was, and I knew that I would have to act fast before he placed his second hand atop his first so that he could successfully drive his knife into my face. I’d expected that my next maneuver would be to pinch off a nerve in his neck to incapacitate him, but then it became quickly apparent that I wouldn’t need to bother. The man’s strength suddenly gave out, and the only struggle I needed to contend with was making sure he didn’t collapse onto me, pinning me to the ground.
But my mind was prepared for this eventuality, always ready to process new information, so my body reacted instantaneously. My right elbow dropped to the floor while my left arm surged with hidden strength, using the power of leverage to roll the man to my right and off me. I rolled with the motion and sat to straddle him, ready to rain down the overwhelming wrath of my fists upon him, but then noticed such an action was no longer necessary.
The man was dead, a small chunk of his head having been blasted off by a gunshot.
I looked up and saw Agrippina kneeling on the bed now, the 9mm pistol I’d given her held steadily in both hands and pointing in my direction. Quickly, I raised my hands to identify myself as someone who had surrendered, even if Agrippina hadn’t immediately recognized me with the chaos of battle around her, but the gesture was unnecessary as she lowered her pistol.
I let out a quick breath of relief, realizing the fight was over, and rose to my feet. Agrippina was already leaping out of her bed, her arms outstretched as she rushed for me, and she slammed into my chest just as I was finally upright.
She squeezed her arms around me tightly and buried her head against my chest as she sobbed. “Oh, thank you, Jacob!” She cried. “Thank you! They were… they were…”
She didn’t finish. What had almost happened to her was a monstrous thing, something even someone as strong as Agrippina may never have recovered from.
Agrippina continued her sobs, taking a moment before continuing. “By the gods… they were so eager… so forceful. They…”
But she was cut off by the sound of something moving at our feet. We both looked down and saw the man I had shot twice leaning up on his good side, his face twisted in pain and sadness alike. He reached up toward me with a hand, almost pleadingly.
“Help me,” he begged, blood pouring from his mouth. “Please… help me. We did not mean… She offered hersel…”
But the man was dead by another gunshot to the head before he could even finish, one delivered with cold precision by Agrippina. The pistol was held at her side and pointed down at him, still smoking as the man’s body slumped to the ground and twitched in the throes of death before going still for the rest of eternity.
She dropped the gun and again buried herself into my chest, hugging me tightly. “Do not let anything like that ever happen again,” she demanded, although her voice was not angry, just scared. “Please do not let anyone ever hurt me. Never leave me, Jacob.”
Through the pain and sadness in her voice, I heard other tones, tones that did not seem so forthright, but I barely heard them. All I could do was empathize with her more than I ever thought I could, pull her in even closer, and hold the back of her head with a hand as I soothed her.
“Don’t worry, Agrippina,” I said, my mouth moving of its own volition. “I’ll never leave you. I’ll always be by your side. Always”
III
&nbs
p; Direction
April, 44 A.D.
Camulodunum, Britannia
Diana Hunter
“Preparations for shot on target completed?”
“I think so…”
“Preparations for shot on target completed?”
I grimaced but nodded behind the scope mounted atop Helena’s sniper rifle. “Yes.”
“You’re clear to fire for effect when ready. Fire. Fire. Fire.”
Doing as I’d been instructed, I held my breath, steadied my aim, waited for just a moment, closed my eyes, and fired. Nowhere in my instruction had I been told to close my eyes at any point during the firing process. In fact, Helena had mentioned that she’d trained her eyes to stay open for as long as possible whenever she could, even when every tear duct in her face screamed for her to blink, just so she could force her eyes open when needed
She was such a weird contradiction.
When I’d first met her months ago, it was so easy to imagine her as just another woman with a few eccentricities, someone I could actually relate to here. Georgia was hardly a girl at all anymore, nor had Patricia been, having spent their entire adult lives in the military, fighting so many battles I was still surprised they’d managed to hold on to any of their humanity, let alone their femininity. But Helena had been a nice surprise. Once, not all that long ago, she’d been so lovely, fun, and carefree. She’d loved to gossip about Jacob behind his back, and she’d been… a mom-to-be. I’d thought we’d had so much in common, so much to share, which is why I hadn’t been surprised she and Jacob had grown so close once I’d gotten to know her.
I’d thought the two of us could have been great friends as well.
Sisters even.
But now I knew better.
With Jacob gone, the real Helena had emerged. The one who had played with guns as a young girl, not dolls. The cold, calculated woman who could use her sniper rifle to murder people at great distances, as I’d seen her do a number of times since leaving the bitter, wintry north. I knew we were in a military situation here, being escorted by an army, and every soldier had his – or her – part to play, but I hadn’t seen it before, and hadn’t expected it now. Between Damascus and Merlin’s hut, I hadn’t once personally seen Helena use her rifle, but things were so much different now, and the differences between us far more obvious.
“Ouch,” I whispered, as I rolled my shoulder to dull the pain I felt from the rifle’s kick.
My eyes were still closed and my arm still moving when I heard an approving grunt emanate from Helena’s throat. “Secondary target hit. You’re two for two. You’re a natural, Diana. Just like…”
She trailed off but I barely heard her as my eyes opened on their own, surprised and curious at Helena’s announcement. I squinted through the scope again, wondering if she was playing a trick on me, but as I looked through the magnifying lens, I clearly saw the second target I’d shot today laying on the ground, dead.
Two for two.
“And you did it with your eyes closed…” Helena noted.
I glanced at her, noticing her small smile at the comment as she recorded something in a notebook of hers. It was probably something sniper related, and I wasn’t sure I’d understand it anyway, so I didn’t bother asking about it.
“You noticed that?”
“Of course I noticed,” she answered, still scribbling in her notebook. “Noticing is what I do.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Now you’re starting to sound like Jacob.”
Helena quickly lost her smile and she quickened the pace of her writing, as though doing so would make her forget what I’d said. I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned him, but I couldn’t help it. She was starting to act like he was dead and gone forever. I was trying to remember the things worth remembering about him.
“Helena…” I said, dropping the butt of her DSR-1 rifle to the dirt in front of me, causing the barrel to stick straight up in the air.
Helena noticed immediately and shot out a hand to lower it, and then glanced at me angrily. “Maintain your profile, Diana. We’re still in enemy territory.”
I glanced behind me and to my left and saw the city of Camulodunum and its accompanying legion forts a few miles away through lightly wooded and still bare forest. While we were obviously not within the city’s limits, this was still a part of Britain that was considered pacified, at least that’s what the Roman general Galba had told us yesterday after we’d arrived. I wasn’t sure if Helena was worried because we were so far from the city, or if she considered all of the Roman Empire “enemy territory” now.
But she didn’t seem willing to listen to me as she went back to her recordings, taking a quick peek through her binoculars again before going back to her journal.
I sighed and shook my head, keeping my own attention through my scope.
Just in case.
I’d been trying to talk to Helena for weeks. The woman was teetering on a precipice right now; I could see it, and so could all the others. In fact, all of them were teetering on edge at the moment, some even beginning to whisper of leaving and abandoning our mission. Jeanne wanted to go find his wife, Madrina, while James, who was still upset at how Jacob had had him clobbered by one of his centurions, seemed ready to just give up. Helena, though, was as determined as ever, and that was a problem. No one, not even James, understood her miraculous recovery during the battle. All he knew was that Jacob had given her some kind of drink; he’d called it his deus ex machine, a term I’d only recently learned – some kind of unexplainable miracle.
She was driven by a force no one could understand, but one we all suspected had something to do with her miraculous recovery itself. This was another thing she still refused to talk about, and she wouldn’t let James examine her – not that he would have been able to determine much of anything with his limited medical equipment. What he had been able to do, and the only thing Helena had permitted almost a month ago, was a routine physical.
Reflexes, temperature, blood pressure, and everything else had all come back perfect.
Perfect.
Hours after having survived an emergency C-section that had almost killed her, Helena was functioning perfectly. James had later told us that seconds after Jacob’s mysterious serum had been administered, Helena’s vitals had stabilized and she’d immediately begun her recovery. Unfortunately, nothing had been left of the healing potion besides the glass vial that had contained it. The vial itself, was another mystery. Even though it appeared to be a single container, closer inspection revealed that it was quite obviously two separate containers fused into one so that two different liquids could coexist beside one another.
Nothing like it existed anywhere in this time period.
I still had the vial. It was secured in my pack which rested just beside me as I laid next to Helena upon her shooting mat. It was a reminder of just how insane the world I’d found myself in could be, and a way to remember specifically that Jacob had risked his life to find and administer the healing elixir to Helena before succumbing to the orb’s influence.
I looked at Helena again. Her face was held tight and determined as she continued to scribble furiously in her notebook. It was almost unbearable to see her like this, so I reached a hand out and put it on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off almost immediately.
“Helena, we need to…”
But she interrupted me by lifting her radio to her mouth. “Anyone on active coms?”
“TJ here,” came TJ Stryker’s gruff voice.
“Could you and Alex bring a cart out here and help us gather a couple of deer? We’re about five kilometers north northwest of the city.”
“Copy. We’ll be there in under an hour.”
“Received. Helena, out.”
She dropped the radio onto the mat near her chest and went back to her journal.
I still had no idea what she was writing.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She didn’t answer.
> “Helena, what are you doing?”
“Keeping busy,” she finally answered, but distractedly.
“Helena, I wanted to learn how to shoot so we could spend some time together. So we could talk. I want to make sure…”
“Could you do this when it matters, Diana?”
I wasn’t quite sure I understood the question.
“Do what?”
“Do this,” Helena repeated, pointing out toward the open field ahead of us. “Could you shoot like that again; only when it matters?”
“What do you mean?”
Helena turned her head toward me slowly, and looked at me with a blank expression. “If I was down there, and there were enemy combatants there as well, could you shoot them just as you did those deer down there?”
“I…” I paused. I hadn’t actually thought about it like that. I’d simply wanted to spend time with her. I never suspected she was actually training me to kill people. “I…”
“I still remember the first time I killed someone…” she said, flicking a hand toward her DSR-1 as she closed her eyes and looked away, her chin falling to her chest. “With that same rifle. I’d never shot at anyone before. I hadn’t even been in a combat situation before. I was a nobody, just some girl who could shoot better than everybody else but had never been given the chance to prove it… Oh, sure, I’d medaled in the Olympics, but in a world war, who cares about that?”
“What are the Olympics?” I asked, trying to stay active in the conversation.
She glanced up at me and looked about ready to speak, but then she shook her head and dropped it again. It took a few moments before she spoke again.
“Do you know how lucky I am to be here, Artie?” She asked, but I was certain it was rhetorical. “How…unlucky I am? My military didn’t want anything to do with me. They were ready to kick me out. But then this call came from the Pope asking for a female sniper – probably so that they could claim some kind of diversity on the team – and they just leapt at the opportunity to get rid of me and earn some good karma at the same time. So they falsified my record and sent me on my way, not even caring what kind of liability I could have been.”
Praetorian Series [4] All Roads Lead to Rome Page 8
