The Thirteenth Legion (A James Acton Thriller, #15) (James Acton Thrillers) (37 page)

“Your
sacrifice will not be forgotten. We will protect the skulls as we always have,
once again united in our beliefs, knowing that we are not yet ready for their
gift to be revealed.” He looked up at the remains, focusing on one with an arm
around another beside it, getting a sense that this darkened mass was a man he
once considered his prize pupil. “I promise you, Martin, that in time we will discover
the truth.”

He
smiled.

“After
all, you were right. It has been our mission all along.”

Easton Airport, Easton, Maryland

Laura climbed down the steps of the Gulf V and onto the tarmac at
the private terminal, Acton holding her hand before they both rushed toward
their friends. Reading stood, shaking his head at them as if he were their
father; Milton and Sandra just seemed extremely relieved to see them.

Acton
gave Milton a thumping hug as Laura gave Reading a long one, he almost a father
figure to her.

“Glad to
see you guys are safe,” said Milton. “We’ve been worried sick.”

“We’re
so sorry for that,” said Laura as she gave Milton a hug, Acton and Reading
exchanging a hearty handshake, he knowing the man hated hugs from other men.

“How are
you holding up?” he asked, there happiness yet gloom in the man’s eyes.

Reading
grunted. “I’ll survive. Just happy you two are okay.” He looked toward the
plane. “They’re not with you?”

Acton
shook his head. “No, they took a separate flight. Can’t be seen coming in with
us.”

Reading
nodded then shivered. “Let’s get inside, it’s freezing out here.”

Acton
shrugged. “I was just in Iceland.
Ice
-land.”

“Show
off.”

They
entered the toasty warm terminal and Acton smiled, Laura rushing forward as
they spotted an old friend.

“Fang!”
cried Laura, grabbing the startled woman in a hug. “How are you?”

The
shocked Chinese woman bowed her way out of the embrace, her cheeks flushed. “I
am well. I’m happy to see that both of you are okay.”

“We are.
I understand in part thanks to you.”

A rapid
headshake of disagreement. “No no no! I merely acted as liaison.”

“Well,
you played your part, and you protected our friends. For that we thank you,”
said Acton, bowing. Fang gratefully returned the familiar gesture, bowing
deeply.

She
motioned toward a nearby doorway. “I have arranged a private lounge for you to
rest in while the final arrangements are made for your return home.”

“Thank
you, Fang.” Laura stepped through the door, Acton and the others following.
Laura hadn’t seen Fang since her near rape in Africa, Fang having a far worse
experience than his wife. She never spoke of it, and he could only imagine what
the poor Chinese soldier had gone through. He had seen a lot of death over the
past few years, though he’d be hard-pressed to find a group of bastards that
had deserved to die more than those that had kidnapped those poor women.

He shook
away the memory, this a happy time. Sitting beside Laura, he draped an arm over
her shoulders as the others sat down across from them, Fang hanging by the
door, still providing security. He debated inviting her over, but knew that
would just make her more uncomfortable.

“I
received a phone call a short while ago.”

Acton
felt his chest tighten at Reading’s words. “From who?”

“The
Proconsul of the Triarii.”

Acton
closed his eyes for a moment as he heard Laura inhale quickly. He looked at
Reading. “And what did
he
have to say?”

“He
expressed his relief that you were both safe.”

Acton
grunted. “Whatever. And the skulls?”

“He said
they were recovered, unharmed.”

“How the
hell did they manage that?” asked Milton. “I thought there was a massive
explosion that destroyed everything?”

Acton
crossed his legs. “Niner said it was probably a shaped charge, designed to
focus the blast wave away from the skulls. It would make it look like the
source of the explosion was the skulls themselves, and leave them untouched.
Get it wrong though, and there’d be nothing but dust.”

“Unless
they truly are magic,” murmured Laura.

Acton smiled
at his wife. “You still believe, don’t you?”

She
shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they don’t have the powers the Triarii thought
they had, but we still don’t know who made them or how. And then there’s the
shivering.”

Milton
grunted. “Probably just a planted subconscious suggestion. They asked you about
it, didn’t they?”

Reading,
Acton and Laura all replied at once. “Yes.”

“So the
idea was planted in your head. Then you
remembered
experiencing that
same thing, even though it might never have happened. Then, from that point on,
you were programmed to shiver every time you saw the skulls because you thought
you had the first time, and there was some significance to it.”

Acton’s
head bobbed slowly as he considered his friend’s words. “You know, you could be
right. I can’t honestly say whether or not I shivered when I first saw them. I
think
I did, but you could be right.” He shrugged. “What the hell, I’ll never see the
damned things again, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

Laura
raised a finger. “Umm, actually, we might.”

Acton
groaned, letting his head drop back on the couch. “Why?”

“Well,
one of the skulls belongs to the Smithsonian. It was stolen by the Deniers over
a decade ago, remember?”

Acton’s
eyes closed as he let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “I remember.”

“So, I’m
guessing the Triarii are going to return it.”

Acton
lifted his head. “With my luck, you’re probably right.”

“And
since I now work at the Smithsonian…”

Acton
looked at Sandra. “Do you know a good divorce lawyer?”

She
grinned at him and Laura pinched his leg.

“Oww!”
he cried, laughing as he gave her a hug. “Would you consider finding another
job?”

She
elbowed him.

Acton
stared up at the heaven’s, wagging a finger. “What do you have against me?” He gave
Laura a squeeze. “Well, I guess there’s no way to keep a girl and her skulls
apart, and thanks to Martin, perhaps one day you’ll figure out where they
actually came from.”

“Clever
bastard,” muttered Reading, shaking his head. “He thought of everything, right
down to the end.”

Acton agreed.
“He believed it would work, but knew it might not, though not for the reasons
you and I would think. He planned for the possibility that mankind wasn’t yet
ready to receive the secrets of the skulls, but rather than risk a failure that
might cause the Triarii to lose faith, he created a failsafe that would
preserve the mystery.”

“Well,
it appears to have worked,” said Reading. “That nutter on the phone sounded
just as enamored with the skulls as he ever did. More so probably. He spouted
off about continuing their work, returning the skulls to their rightful owners
and carrying on as if nothing had happened, promising that one day Martin’s
sacrifice would pay off, the secrets of the skulls revealed to all.” He made a
spooky sound while waving his fingers in the air.

Acton
got the distinct impression Reading didn’t believe.

He
smiled at his friend. “Well, as long as they leave us out of it. I’ve had my
fill of crystal skulls.”

“Hear!
Hear!” Milton raised an imaginary glass. “From your lips to God’s ears.”

“I’d
drink to that if there was a Scotch about,” agreed Reading.

Sandra
cast some gloom on the situation. “Can we be sure they truly are out of our
lives, though?”

Acton
shrugged. “No, I guess not, but the Deniers are dead, the Triarii, for the
first time in history, have all thirteen skulls, and they believe in their
power more now than ever before. There should be no reason we ever have to deal
with them again.” He glanced over at Reading who had just let a deep sigh
escape. “You okay buddy?”

“Just
thinking of Martin.”

Laura
rose, walking over to Reading and sitting on the arm of his chair, giving him a
hug. “You poor dear.”

Acton
leaned forward. “Listen, Hugh, you should know that Martin died for something
he truly believed in, and that he was surrounded by his friends.”

Reading
nodded, his eyes glistening.

“But not
his best friend.”

Niner climbed in the ring, the muscled Atlas in the far corner. He
smacked his gloves together as a large crowd surrounded them, cash exchanged as
bets were laid.

“You
ready for an ass whoopin’?” he asked, showing off some fancy footwork à la
Rocky 3.

“I am,”
rumbled Atlas. “Your ass. My whoopin’.”

The bell
rang, Jimmy clicking the stopwatch. “So, what rules are we playing by? Marquess
of Queensberry?”

Atlas
smacked his gloves together, channeling Mr. T’s eye of the tiger. “No rules. I
beat you until you can’t even picture my mama’s hips.”

Niner
jerked a glove over his shoulder. “You mean these hips?”

Spock
yanked on a rope and a long banner unfurled, a picture of Atlas’ mom and
sister, hips jutting out, suddenly on display.

Atlas
froze. “What the—?” His gloves dropped. “How the hell—?”

“I
called them up and they sent the pictures. Spock—”

“Leave
me out of this!”

“—had
the banner made.” Niner stared at their handiwork. “They
are
nice hips.”

Atlas
began to laugh, the rest of the crowd joining in once they knew it was safe to
do so. He shook his head and walked over toward Niner. “I don’t know why, but I
can never stay mad at you.”

He
embraced Niner, Niner returning it, slapping the big man’s back with his
gloves, breathing a sigh of relief, when suddenly he was scooped up off the
floor, raised feet first over Atlas’ head, then vertical suplexed onto the mat.

Atlas
regained his feet and pointed at Niner. “
Nobody
talks about my mama’s
hips.”

Niner
weakly raised a hand. “Never again,” he groaned, the hand dropping to the mat.

And the Triarii were true to their word, following Ananias’
instructions not to hide the skulls away. In Saudi Arabia, a skull was returned
to Faisal’s family, in Nepal, the Crystal Oracle was delivered to the Lama, in
Paris, Henri delivered a skull to his museum, recommitting himself to a life
with the Triarii after watching the footage of the crater, and as others were
returned around the world, in Hope Trailer Park, New Mexico, Leroy arrived home
to find his safe opened once again, his precious skull returned.

And he
fell to his knees, thanking the crystal gods.

THE END