The Thirteenth Legion (A James Acton Thriller, #15) (James Acton Thrillers)

by J. Robert Kennedy

  “Are you asking for money?”

  Chaney smiled at Laura. “Not at all.”

  Laura seemed unconcerned with the answer, she always generous with her money, never hesitating to help those truly in need, though Acton had no impression that Chaney was waiting to ask.

  “But why try to take us?” asked Laura.

  “It’s a change in tactics, for sure. I’m guessing they were hoping to hold you and force me to give up the thirteenth skull to save your lives.”

  Acton frowned, squeezing Laura’s hand a little harder. “So what you’re saying is that they could try it again.”

  Chaney nodded. “Absolutely. I can think of only one way to make sure you remain safe.”

  Acton wasn’t sure he was going to like what he was about to hear. “What?”

  “Hand yourselves over to them.”

  Acton’s eyebrows shot up, he not expecting that answer. “Umm, you expect us to turn ourselves over to these murderers?”

  Laura shook her head. “Are you daft?”

  Chaney smiled at Laura. “Probably. But as long as they think they can use either of you against me, you’re in danger.”

  Acton was still shaking his head in disbelief. “How will us walking into their headquarters and waving ‘hi’, make them want to use us any less? Wouldn’t they just toss us in a room and put the word out they’ll kill us if you don’t turn yourself in?”

  Chaney shook his head. “Not if they think you betrayed me.”

  Acton’s eyes narrowed. “And how are we supposed to make them think that?”

  Chaney grinned.

  “You’re going to steal the thirteenth skull from me.”

  Domus Tiberiana, Rome

  July 21, 64 AD

  Everything burned.

  His wife, his concubines, his home.

  All of it.

  It raged through his body, through his nightmares, through every waking moment.

  It all burned.

  And the voices continued to taunt him, the cacophony of madness in his mind almost overwhelming, the voices laughing at him, whispering in corners just out of sight, gone before he could catch a glimpse of them.

  But when he was out with his people, fighting the fires at their side, searching the rubble for survivors and directing his men personally, they were silent.

  Almost.

  It made him feel like a man, something he wasn’t sure he ever had experienced before. He had power, certainly, and men feared him, of that there was no doubt.

  But he had little self-respect.

  At least until the fire had begun.

  His city was being destroyed, though its sacrifice was giving him a confidence that had eluded him for years, his position and his own arrogance usually carrying the day.

  “Sire, wake up!”

  He bolted upright in bed, immediately shivering, his body drenched in sweat. He had left the concubines to their chambers, his wife returning from Antium to join him in the fight.

  She was exactly who he needed in times such as these, she a calm, wise woman whose council he valued.

  I wonder what mother would think of all this.

  “Report.”

  “The situation remains dire. Three of the fourteen districts are completely destroyed, another seven damaged.”

  “And the additional hands?”

  “Volunteers are pouring in from all the neighboring cities. We have the manpower and we now have the water. We will win this fight, sire, thanks to your quick actions.”

  Nero ignored the nose embedded firmly in his ass, instead throwing on his robe and stepping out into the balcony, it still dark, morning light barely cracking the horizon. More of the city now burned, though much of what had in previous nights, now smoldered.

  He strode along the balcony, past his bedchambers then paused, turning toward his private office, a place few people were ever allowed to see.

  And frowned.

  The crystal skull, the gift from Antonius Felix in Judea, sat on a pedestal, angled to face his bed in the next room.

  The voices raged, the whispers almost loud enough to make out.

  Then a stabbing pain behind his eyes sucked the energy away as he gasped, dropping to a knee.

  “Sire! Are you okay!”

  The pain eased, slightly, and he glared back at the skull, a rage filling him. He held out his hand and his aide helped him to his feet, Nero steadying himself on the balcony railing. He stared at the skull, a sudden realization causing him to gasp, his aide flinching as he anticipated another collapse.

  “It all started when that damned thing arrived.”

  “Sire?”

  It had been found the day they had killed the man called Jesus, the man these blasted Christians all worshipped, their spread like a disease upon the land, causing too many of Rome’s citizens and territories to abandon their true gods, instead worshipping this single, fictional apparition who had no statues built in his honor, no name to pray to.

  It must be cursed!

  And he realized what the voices all along had been trying to tell him. The gods were angry. They were angry with the people turning away from them, and they were demanding he take action to stop the spread of these Christians and their one false god.

  He glanced at the skull then stormed into the room, grabbing it from its resting place and raising it high above his head. Looking up, his eyes met those of the sculpture, a battle of wills suddenly underway, the voices screaming unintelligibly, the stabbing pain returning as he tried to find the strength to smash it into a thousand pieces and end the curse that had befallen his people and his city and his empire.

  He fell to his knees, the skull still gripped in his hand, then dropped to his side, it rolling from his outstretched fingers.

  “Sire!”

  His aide’s pleas went ignored as he realized destroying the vessel of their torture might make things far worse than they already were.

  If bringing it here caused this, then removing it should end it.

  He forced himself to his knees, closing his eyes, refusing to look at those of the skull that bore into his sole, the uncontrollable urge to shiver in its presence one he refused to give into anymore.

  “Get me the legate of the Thirteenth, now!”

  Unknown Location, London, United Kingdom

  Present Day

  “They’ve killed dozens and have stolen all of the skulls except Jupiter and Zeus, and the skull Professor Acton found in Peru.”

  Reading couldn’t care less about the stolen skulls, though he found the body count very concerning. The Triarii, even its splinter group known as the Deniers, rarely killed, tranquilizer guns their weapon of choice.

  The problem was, he wasn’t sure whom to believe. Rodney had raised a very real gun, about to shoot at Chaney, and now the Proconsul, who Rodney worked for, was claiming it was the Deniers that were doing the killing, and Chaney was one of them.

  He eyed Rodney for a moment then returned his attention to the Proconsul, the man older than he had expected, yet somehow exactly as he had expected. Wise looking, with an air about him that commanded respect, expected respect. “How did they know where the skulls were?”

  “Each member of the council knows where the skull they are responsible for is located, and who protects it. They also know where one other is hidden, though they have no responsibilities for it unless the primary dies or is otherwise incapacitated. After the thirteenth skull was finally found after all these years, a schism happened almost immediately, with the council split. Those who supported the Deniers—unbeknownst to me up to that point, obviously—immediately seized control of their own skulls, and those they were backups for. At least that’s the prevailing wisdom among those who remain, but it doesn’t explain everything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The Proconsul shook his head. “To be honest, I think some did betray us, but after they were able to so efficiently seize all the skulls, I had our security double-checke
d, and taps were found on our secure lines. I believe one of our senior security staff, who is now missing, placed the taps, perhaps years ago, allowing the Deniers to monitor the secret conversations between our council members and their teams.”

  Reading pursed his lips, nodding. “So they’d know where everything was hidden, who was protecting them, and how.”

  “Exactly. They already had the Smithsonian skull that President Jackson stole when he was a member, they have the thirteenth skull that you found with the professors, and now they’ve managed to steal eight other skulls. Unfortunately we only have the original two now, the Oracle of Jupiter, found in Golgotha, and the Oracle of Zeus, found years later in Greece, plus the skull Professor Acton discovered in Peru.” He sighed. “I fear the other ten may be lost to us forever.”

  “Are the three you have secure?”

  “Yes. Very.” The Proconsul scratched his chin, lowering his voice slightly. “Listen, this has been an ongoing feud among us for almost eight hundred years, beginning in 1212 after the disaster in London. Now blood has been spilled on an unforgiveable scale, something that has never happened before. We know they want them, and they will kill to get them.”

  “How will you stop them?”

  “We’ve moved the three remaining skulls to a location known only to a handful of people, and they are under heavy guard. Unfortunately, I fear it may not be enough.”

  Reading asked the question that had been gnawing at him since yesterday. “Why were you following me?”

  The Proconsul smiled slightly. “Because we know you two are friends, and we were hoping he might reach out to you at some point. We’ve been following you and the professors for over a year, ever since Martin failed to report back with the Venice skull.”

  “Do you think Jim and Laura are in danger?”

  The Proconsul frowned, then nodded. “Most definitely.”

  Reading pointed at Rodney. “Give me my phone. Now!”

  Rodney looked at the Proconsul who nodded. The phone was produced.

  Reading called Acton’s number, it going directly to voicemail.

  His gut flipped, his cop intuition telling him something the facts hadn’t yet.

  Something’s wrong.

  Outside Annapolis, Maryland

  Acton stared at Chaney, his eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

  Chaney chuckled. “It’s really quite simple, Professor. I will give you the skull, you’ll call a number I give you, tell them you have it, and want to meet. They’ll arrange it, and as you American’s might say, Bob’s your uncle.”

  Acton looked at Laura. “Do we say that?”

  She shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

  Acton turned to Chaney. “Won’t they ask how we got it?”

  “Of course. You tell them that I showed it to you when I tried to recruit you. You then realized that I must be working for the wrong side, and stole it. With your history of getting involved in things that don’t concern you, they’ll absolutely believe it.”

  Laura leaned a little harder against Acton. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  Chaney smiled at her. “Listen, your reputation is one of always doing the right thing. Keeping this skull in the hands of the Triarii is the right thing, even if you don’t believe in their power. And once they see you actually have it, they’ll believe any story you tell them.”

  Laura’s eyes narrowed. “But I thought giving them the thirteenth skull was exactly what you didn’t want?”

  Chaney nodded. “It is, but eventually they’re going to catch us, and when they do, they’ll have all of them anyway. This way, we have a shot of getting our hands on all of them.”

  Acton leaned back, his head tilting to the side, his eyes narrow. “How?”

  “Easy. We’ll place a tracker with it.”

  Acton gave him a look. “It’s a transparent crystal skull. Won’t they notice something sticking to it?”

  Chaney chuckled. “We’ll bug the case you’ll be carrying it in, that way we’ll know exactly where it is at all times. Once we know their location, we can hit them and take the skulls back.”

  Laura inhaled sharply. “Hit them? You mean attack them?”

  “Yes.”

  “That didn’t work out so well when the Delta Force tried it. What makes you think you can?”

  Chaney smiled, holding up a finger, counting off his reasons. “First, we were expecting them, and it wasn’t us that stopped Delta, it was the armed police unit that just happened to be outside our doors that ultimately stopped them, and, as you know, they only surrendered because they knew their mates were going to spring them. Also, their mission parameters were different. They were ordered to kill everyone in the building because we were all terrorists, remember? If they had been after a specific target like we are, I’m pretty sure they would have succeeded. In our case, we’ll have the element of surprise, and some private help that is well-trained.”

  Acton didn’t like the sound of that. “Private help?”

  Chaney spread his hands, palms up. “As you know, Professor, we’re not killers. We will kill if we have to, but we’ve contracted a private firm for the takedown. We have men training with them now, and they’re ready to hit anywhere in the world whenever we give the word.”

  Acton frowned. “Mercenaries.”

  Chaney’s head bobbed. “I’m not happy about it either, but what choice do we have? These renegades have killed dozens already, and are about to unleash a destructive power unlike anything the world has ever seen.”

  Acton sighed.

  Chaney as well. “Look, I know you don’t believe, Professor, but I do, and so does every single member of the Triarii. If there was something you believed that others didn’t, would it stop you from believing, or simply make you realize you’re on your own, with a duty that remained.”

  Acton said nothing, the answer obvious.

  “And I’ll ask you one final thing before you dismiss the skulls so quickly.”

  “What?”

  “What was your reaction when you looked at it the first time?”

  “Huh?”

  “Did you shiver?”

  Acton’s eyebrows slowly rose at the question, he leaning back slightly as he thought back to Peru. His eyes opened wide. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I think I did.”

  Chaney smiled. “So did I.”

  Acton shrugged. “So what? It’s an instinctual response at seeing something creepy.”

  Chaney’s smile spread. “Or is it?”

  Unknown Location, London, United Kingdom

  “Hey Greg, it’s Hugh.”

  “Oh, hi Hugh. God, this is a strange coincidence. I was just about to call you.”

  A pit formed in Reading’s stomach. Gregory Milton was Acton’s best friend. They had known each other since college, and Milton was dean of the university Acton worked at, a sometimes strenuous relationship when boss and employee clashed, yet outside of the halls of learning, they were tight.

  Very tight.

  Reading’s relationship with Milton however was casual, purely through Acton.

  And Milton had never found a need to call him in the past.

  “What’s wrong? Has something happened to Jim and Laura?”

  Milton sighed. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

  The pit deepened. “What?”

  “It looks like they’ve been kidnapped. There was a shooting outside the Home Depot here, and I’m not sure what happened yet, but it looks like they were both abducted. I just got the call and was about to call you before heading for the police station.”

  Reading took a deep breath, glaring at the Proconsul and Rodney who stood on the opposite side of the room, talking in hushed tones. “Okay, I’ll be on a plane as soon as I can.”

  “Good. Use the emergency fund, I’m sure she’d want you to.”

  Reading frowned, turning his back to the others and lowering his voice. “You’re probably right, but I hate doing that.”
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  “Which is exactly why she gave you access.”

  Reading chewed his cheek. Laura was rich. Beyond rich. Hundreds of millions of dollars rich. He hated taking advantage of that, always feeling guilty when they would fly him places, though he eventually had been able to rationalize it by doing the math. A plane ticket to her was like buying a coffee to him.

  And he wouldn’t think twice if she or her new husband bought him a coffee.

  “Okay, fine. I’ll make the call. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Talk to you soon.”

  “I’ll keep you posted with what I find out. Goodbye.”

  Reading ended the call and spun on the others in the room. “Jim and Laura have been kidnapped,” he said, striding quickly toward them, rage in his eyes, Rodney stepping in front of the Proconsul, sensing Reading’s desire to tear out someone’s throat. “Did you have anything to do with it?”

  The Proconsul shook his head. “Absolutely not.” He turned to another guard standing near the door. “Get me the Maryland detail, now!” The guard nodded and left, returning only seconds later with another person who rushed into the room with an outstretched cellphone.

  “Sir, it’s for you, urgent!”

  The Proconsul took the phone, his side of the conversation mostly grunts before he hung up. He handed the phone back then turned to Reading. “I’m afraid you’re right. Our agents that were tailing them report an attack.”

  Reading felt himself turn purple as anger and concern consumed him. He glared at Rodney.

  “Get me to my flat, now!”

  Motel 6, Annapolis, Maryland

  “This is the case.”

  Chaney handed Acton the rather heavy case, everyone now crammed into a too small motel room on the outskirts of Annapolis. Acton rested it on his knees and slid the locks aside, the case opening with a hiss. Gently lifting the lid, his eyes widened and he felt Laura shiver beside him as they gazed upon the skull they hadn’t seen since discovering it in Venice over a year ago.