The Thirteenth Legion (A James Acton Thriller, #15) (James Acton Thrillers) (16 page)

Reading?

A pit
formed in his stomach as he realized there was only one reason the Interpol
agent would be contacting him.

Something’s
happened to the professors.

St. George’s Hill, Weybridge, Surrey, United Kingdom

“Is everyone in position?”

Chaney
watched through binoculars as the teams sounded off in his earpiece, then
receiving the final confirmation, he gave the signal. “Proceed.”

Immediately
the exterior guards began to drop, one, two, sometimes three at a time as
several sniper positions surrounding the estate opened up on men he had once
thought of as comrades. He closed his eyes for a moment, tears threatening to
cloud his vision as the last of almost two dozen went down, not a shot fired by
their enemy.

For
there had been nothing to fire at.

He
stepped into the four-by-four, closing the passenger door as his teams raced
through the gates, the lock blasted the moment the assault had begun. The long
drive left nowhere to hide—they were sitting ducks if their enemy decided to retaliate,
but no one did, the only sound their tires skidding on the gravel, then their
boots on the same as they jumped out and rushed toward the main doors, other
teams continuing to the sides and rear of the building.

And
still, nothing.

Suddenly
an alarm sounded and floodlights bathed the entire area in a harsh glow, a glow
that only lasted moments as the sniper teams took out the bulbs, quickly
plunging them back into darkness, one finally locating and eliminating the last
speaker blaring the warning.

An eerie
silence settled over the area, faint emergency lighting and a full moon providing
the only illumination.

He
motioned toward the door. “Let’s go.”

Small
charges fired at the windows, detonating on impact as two men rushed the doors,
carefully placing explosives on the lock then taking cover. Chaney delivered a
hand signal and the charges detonated. Stun grenades fired through the shattered
windows, several tossed through the gaping doors, the resulting explosions
deafening, even from outside.

And
still not a shot fired in response.

Something’s
wrong.

Acton sat in a chair set against a wall, Laura beside him. The
control center they were in had dozens of monitors and about half a dozen men,
including the Proconsul and Rodney, the action outside unfolding like a reality
show before them. Occupying each of the four corners were crystal skulls, the
Oracles of Jupiter and Zeus, the skull he had found in Peru, and the thirteenth
skull he had just delivered.

He
shivered.

Maybe
he’s right.

He
interrupted the Proconsul’s hushed conversation. “Shouldn’t you be moving
those?”

The
Proconsul turned toward him. “Pardon me?”

“The
skulls, shouldn’t you be moving them?” He nodded toward the monitors. “It
doesn’t appear to be going well for you.”

“No.”
The Proconsul turned back to the monitors, his conversation resuming as if
never interrupted.

Acton
turned to Laura, lowering his voice. “Mighty confident, aren’t they?”

Laura
leaned closer, their heads touching. “They don’t seem to be putting up much of
a fight. I don’t understand. They don’t seem concerned at all.”

Acton
cleared his throat. “Why aren’t you fighting back?”

“Give it
time,” said the Proconsul, not bothering to face Acton. “How many?”

“We’ve
counted twenty-four,” replied Rodney, Acton straining to hear. “Twelve inside,
the rest outside, surrounding the building.”

“And the
sniper teams?”

“They’ve
already repositioned inside the grounds.”

The
Proconsul turned toward Acton, smiling.

“Activate
the automatic external defenses.”

Klaus Becker gripped his MP5K submachine gun tightly, his eyes
watching the perimeter like a hawk, this operation going far too smoothly, the
complete lack of response running contrary to all the briefings they had
received. He and his men had been training these civilians for months now,
teaching them self-defense, weapons and tactics—essentially everything they’d
need for this very night.

Yet so far,
it appeared there had been little need. His sniper teams had done the work so
far, with his clients simply standing back and watching the action.

Until
Martin Chaney, their leader, had ordered Becker’s men to remain outside.

A
mistake.

If ever
there would be a place their foes would defend, it would be the interior of the
building. The lack of resistance had him wondering if anyone was actually
inside, perhaps all the defenses placed outside.

Though
that would be foolish.

And he
didn’t think his enemy was foolish.

He
wasn’t so certain about his clients.

These
men seemed normal, except for the fact they didn’t think in terms of surviving
their mission. They seemed only to think in terms of the mission succeeding,
apparently unconcerned with their own survival.

They
simply wanted to retrieve an item, even if it meant only a single man
surviving.

And it
was an item he had no intel on.

It might
as well be a black box.

But he
had to admit he didn’t care. So far, there hadn’t been a single casualty among
his men, and their time was handsomely paid for. In this business, you didn’t
ask too many questions.

Something
moved in the corner of his eye and he cursed.

“Take
cover!” he shouted, leaping through the blown out window beside him as hidden
machine guns popped out of the ground and opened fire. He heard the cries of
his men as they were mowed down, the gunfire intense but brief, the sudden
silence indicating the automated defense system had finished its job.

His
men dead, his clients all safe inside the building.

A rage
built inside him.

“What the hell was that?” asked Acton, leaping to his feet to get a
closer look at the monitors, the dozen men outside made quick work of by
something or someone.

“Sentry
guns. They eliminate anything that moves,” explained Rodney.

“Jesus,
I hope they don’t malfunction.” Acton’s eyes narrowed as he turned his
attention from the monitors to the Proconsul. “Why didn’t you use them when
they arrived?”

The
Proconsul stared at him for a moment. “You keep forgetting, Professor, that we
have a plan.”

Laura
took Acton’s hand. “Where are the other skulls?”

“What
other skulls?”

“The
other skulls. I thought you had all thirteen now?”

The
Proconsul stared at her, his eyes slightly narrowed. “It would appear you have
been misinformed. These are all the skulls that remain under our protection.
The others have all been lost to Martin Chaney and his Deniers.”

Acton’s
jaw dropped slightly as he looked at Laura.

Are
we on the wrong side of this?

Chaney surged forward, his weapon raised in front of him as he and
his team advanced deeper into the large building, Becker reporting over his
comm what had just occurred outside.

Yet
there was nothing that could be done about that.

“We’ll
disable the defenses when we take the control room.”

“Roger
that, sir. Our drones’ infrared are still showing only a few hotspots above
ground. It’s most likely in the basement.”

“Agreed.
We’ll clear the upper levels first before we attempt to take the lower.”

Someone
rounded the corner and Chaney squeezed off a round, taking the surprised man
out.

He
sighed.

I’m
sorry, old friend.

Acton jabbed a finger at the monitors. “You have to evacuate!
They’re slaughtering them.”

The
Proconsul glanced at him, then returned his attention to the screens. “Everyone
here today volunteered for this. If we don’t put up a good show, then they’ll
realize what our plan is.”

Acton
paused, processing what the Proconsul had just said. “I thought it was to end
this once and for all?”

“It is.”

Acton
shook his head, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Well, it doesn’t look
like you’re succeeding.”

The
Proconsul turned to him, smiling. “Looks can be deceiving.”

Chaney stepped behind the corner as a rather large charge blasted
open the doors to the control center. His team surged in, he directly behind
them, several shots heard through the haze.

“Cease
fire!” he shouted, slapping down the two nearest weapons, both aimed at the
professors. “They’re not the enemy.”

“But you
appear to be.”

Chaney glanced
at Acton, ignoring his statement, then strode to the center of the room, Rodney
glaring at him, the Proconsul simply looking disappointed.

In him.

He had
to admit the disappointment in the old man’s face hit home, this a man he had
looked up to for years, a man who was now his enemy.

Perhaps
when this is all over…

Chaney
pointed at the skulls. “Get them ready.” He pointed at another one of his men.
“Disable the automated sentry guns then destroy the equipment.”

Acton
stepped forward. “I thought you were supposed to be the good guys.”

He
turned to the defiant professor. “We are.”

“You
just slaughtered a bunch of people—”

“As they
would have done to us if the roles were reversed.”

“I’m not
so sure about that.”

Chaney
sighed. “Professor Acton, what do you think happened here today?”

“I think
your breakaway group has managed to destroy the Triarii from within.”

Chaney
shook his head. “No, Professor, the Triarii as you have known it
is
the
breakaway group.” Acton’s eyebrows leapt and Laura gasped. “Our mission, the
Triarii’s mission, from the beginning, as given to us by our greatest sage, Ananias,
was to seek out and find the skulls in order to discover their power. He told
us there were thirteen, so we sought them out. It was only when the third was
discovered and united with the first two that we had the disaster in London.”
Chaney glanced at the Proconsul. “That was when we lost our way. Instead of
continuing our search to bring the skulls together, we let fear rule us,
instead finding them so we could keep them apart.

“A few of
us through the centuries, however, continued with the original mandate, in the
hopes that one day man would reach the technological level to harness the power
the skulls are capable of. We were labelled renegades, spoken of with derision,
the membership taught to believe we Deniers were going against everything the
Triarii stood for. But nothing could be further from the truth.”

The fact
Acton wasn’t interrupting him suggested he might just be getting through to the
man, so he pressed on, something deep inside him hoping that if he could
convince Acton of the truth, then he would pass this message on to his friend,
so Reading would realize he was still a good man, not the traitor he feared his
old partner now thought of him as. “Do you know why they call us the Deniers?”

Acton
shook his head slightly.

“It is
not because we deny that there is any risk to uniting the skulls as they would have
you believe, it is because we deny that the current mandate of the Triarii is
its genuine mandate. Everything we have done is to return us to the old ways.
We
are the true Triarii, not the people led by this false proconsul.”

Acton’s
voice was slightly subdued. “So you now have all thirteen skulls?”

Chaney
nodded. “Yes.”

“So it
was you who killed to get them?”

Chaney felt
his chest tighten, his eyes staring at the floor for a moment as a wave of
shame swept over him. “Unfortunately it was necessary. Everyone we have killed
has been a brother to us, and it pains me deeply that so many had to die, but
we had no choice.”

The
Proconsul’s voice suddenly boomed. “Your arrogance is unbecoming. We have
witnessed the destructive power. We have long said that until we know what the
origin of the skulls is, we are not ready to understand their purpose. Before
we have the answers to even the most basic of questions, we are not ready to
harness their power.” He pointed a finger at Chaney. “And you’re selective with
your history. Our scrolls tell us that our mission was to remove the original
skull from Rome and keep it as far from there as possible. The sage you speak
of was considered a fool by many, a curiosity by the rest. He was well liked,
yes, but his final words were recorded merely because they related to the
skulls and were curious in nature. Yes, we sought out the other skulls he
referred to, but not until the accidental discovery of a second one in Greece,
centuries later. You conveniently cherry pick phrases from the scrolls to suit
your belief system. You’ve co-opted our original, noble purpose, and twisted it
into a dark quest to seek a truth we may not be ready to learn, risking all of
mankind to do it.”