Praetorian Series [4] All Roads Lead to Rome (29 page)

She shook her head. “And I have already made known how I do not believe this to be true.  Your journey is not complete, and you are still in need of protection.”  She swiped a hand in front of her, encompassing the volcano.  “As is obvious.”

“Fine,” I replied.  It’s not that I’m complaining, it’s just that I’d rather not be responsible for you.  I’ve been responsible for too much, and I don’t want your death on my hands as well.”

She glared at me.  “The only individual responsible for my actions is the one you see before you.  No one else.  Do not take responsibility for my life, Cernunnos.”

I nodded, thankful for her absolution, and tightened my lips appreciatively.  “Ready then?”

She nodded, ever serious.  “What is it Santino said once?”  She asked, her mouth contorting as it usually did when she was preparing to try her hand at English.  “‘Let’s rock out with our co’…”

“Don’t…” I snapped, but gave her a playful smile when she frowned at me, “…finish that sentence.  Trust me.  You’ve got no idea what you were going to say…”

***

I prepared my barebones sniper hide while Boudicca moved into position.  My location atop the hill wasn’t much of a hide at all, but that didn’t mean there weren’t precautions to take.  Situated atop a small hill, my flanks were covered to either side by portions of the hill that were higher than where I lay, putting me at the bottom of a miniscule valley, but my rear was exposed.  I didn’t expect much from whoever employed department store mannequins as security guards, so I simply forced myself into the habit of checking my six every few minutes.

The hill’s terrain was too sandy for my bipod to grip the ground without sinking into it, so I propped my rifle atop my smaller gear bag instead.  I panned my rifle left and right, testing to ensure it wouldn’t snag on any part of the bag, and grunted in satisfaction when it moved smoothly.  I then removed three extra magazines for my rifle and placed them in a neat little row beside me, allowing for quick reloads if necessary.  Finally, I completed my checklist for sniper work, preparing my rifle and scope for all the variables that could hinder precision shooting.

All was ready on my end.

Once Boudicca had left, she and I had broken all contact between each other.  Without a spare radio, we had no way of communicating.  She was on her own, and would have to rely on her own instincts once she infiltrated the complex, trusting that I would have her back.

Trust.

It felt odd that anyone would trust me again.  I still had no memory of how I had left everyone back in Britain, their true identities still clouded in darkness, but I could feel the darkness of what I’d done even if I couldn’t remember exactly what had happened.  Whatever it was in this world that was counteracting the blue orb’s darkness did not seem to have the ability to strip its stranglehold on me completely, but it seemed to lessen it.  All the emotions and energy associated with the orb were still here with me but they were just out of arm’s reach, just far enough so that they no longer clouded my thoughts and judgment.  I still had no memory of who I was before Britain – how I’d viewed life, how I’d interpreted controversies, how I’d dealt with mistakes, how I’d interacted with others – but, now, I was reminded that something horrible had happened, something that I may never forgive myself for. 

I’d thought that closer proximity to the red orb would tear down all the blue orb’s negative effects, cleansing me of both its dark curses and potent gifts, as my current slow but steady return to normalcy seemed to indicate, but something didn’t seem right.  This return of my senses seemed familiar, as though I’d once experienced all this before, but like my memories while under the blue orb’s spell, particulars were barred from me.

None of which mattered at present.  Just the idea that Boudicca would trust me made my heart tingle with joy.  It gave me hope that the others could forgive me as well.

I shook my head, worried that perhaps with the return of mental clarity would also come the return of distracted digressions.

I’d have to work on that.

While I’d prepared, Boudicca had made her way to the handcart.  Her plan was to push the handcart to pick up speed until she was certain it had enough momentum to coast into the complex.  Before that happened, however, she’d find a way to crawl beneath it, where we’d discovered quite a few places to latch onto – for apparently this very reason – and ride secretly beneath the cart.  There was more than enough room for her beneath it, but that still didn’t make her plan a smart one.

But there was no other way to get her close without alerting the guards, if they were even capable of being alerted.  From all traversable directions, the complex and our position was separated by four hundred meters of open terrain, and the volcano behind it made a rear insertion impossible.  This was the only way, and the best way, despite all risks to her safety.

Once she was down there, it would be up to her to fight her way through the guards while I covered her.  She’d pull double duty as she tried to find an entrance to the structure’s interior as well.  At least the guards only carried long wooden sticks that didn’t seem particularly pointy.  In fact, from what I could tell, they seemed no more durable than balsa wood.  These weapons were a far cry from Uzis and Kalashnikovs normally employed by perimeter units during operations I’d taken part in back home.

She’d be fine.

Thinking of my impressive female companion, I craned my head over my shoulder to see if she’d completed her preparations before setting out, only to find the cart gone.  I leaned as far forward as I safely could and looked to the left, and saw the handcart rocketing away from behind our low hill, picking up speed as it continued down the slope.  It was also empty, which meant Boudicca was either beneath it or about to sneak up behind me and inform me that we needed another plan.  I wasn’t worried, so I settled in and waited for the handcart to complete its journey, giving me about a minute and a half to prepare. 

Something about the cold, quiet efficiency of sniper work had always soothed me, perhaps because it was such rewarding work.  Not in the sense that killing someone was in of itself rewarding, but in how the diligent approach to the craft amounted to immediate and satisfactory results.  If all my preparations were completed perfectly, there was no margin of error, no reason for failure, and no need for second guesses or chances.  It wasn’t so much that I was a perfectly trained killing machine, but more of a factory assembly line, able to churn out product quickly and efficiently.

I cocked my head to the side as I thought, those particular thoughts poignantly disturbing right now.  Perhaps I wasn’t so close to redemption as I’d earlier thought, but recognition of that fact seemed enough for now.  Besides, repairing my broken soul and reclaiming my lost memories could wait.

I had a job to do first.

Settling in, I lowered my head and peered through my scope, shifting my rifle to the left so that I could track the handcart.  It was still half a minute out, so I panned to the right, noticing that even though the empty handcart was in full view of the guards, still they did nothing.  I pulled away from my scope for a moment and glanced at the volcano once again.  It had momentarily slipped my thoughts as I’d settled into my sniper trance, but now it was once again at the forefront of my thoughts.

I saw a particularly violent ejection of magma work its way down its side in the form of lava, perhaps a dozen miles off to my right.  The lava vein itself could have been half a mile wide for all I knew, and I was suddenly reminded of just how dangerous and odd this place was.  As backdrops for epic showdowns went, I could think of few better set pieces, especially with the black holes overhead, but something about it tickled me funny all of a sudden.  There was a feeling, just at the back of my mind, that suggested all of this was familiar to me, that I’d seen all of this before, or perhaps even been here before.  But that was bullshit; there was no way I could have been here before.  Even considering the mental state I was currently in, I think I’d remember something like all this.

I shook my head and returned my attention to the handcart.  It took me a second or two to locate it along the track, finding it only a few seconds away from the makeshift “train station” that would bring the handcart to a stop.  It was gliding in now with barely enough momentum to keep it moving, but Boudicca had timed it well, and the cart came to a complete stop just before impacting a barricade that indicated the end of the rail line.

For a second nothing happened.

There were a number of guards scattered around the station, a few on the ground, a few others upon a wooden catwalk overhead.  Still, they did not move, nor seem aware of the handcart’s sudden presence.  They shifted their heads and swayed gently in place, but did nothing.

And then Boudicca was upon them, springing forth from beneath the handcart, unsheathing her twin swords over her shoulders and looking every bit the female version of Conan the Barbarian.  She twirled her blades in a series of intricate arcs in preparation for her first strike on a pair of guards that had stood vigil over the rail station.  She ran at them, their forms slowly reacting to her presence, but before they had time to raise much of a defense, Boudicca had both blades flinging out, taking both of their heads clean from their shoulders.

First blood had been dealt, but as I peered at the lifeless bodies as they fell to the floor, I couldn't detect any actual blood.  The absence of such crucial life essence barely registered in my mind before I had to look away to fulfill my own role in this upcoming battle.  Boudicca was already a blur of motion, moving toward the center of the complex’s front facade as she attempted to locate an entrance for us.  I adjusted my scope, zooming out slightly so that I could track her movement while simultaneously searching for targets of opportunity.

So far, the guards were doing an adequate job responding to her, as many had finally moved from their posts to intercept her, but an odd pattern was emerging.  Only those guards that seemed to stand directly in her path responded to her.  Like dominos falling down in a row, once Boudicca struck one down, another would seemingly activate to stand in her way, only to be struck down in turn.  None attempted to flank her, none tried to pounce down upon her from a higher elevation, no traps were created or attempts to corral her into an ambush, nor did these guards seem to give a shit that they were sacrificing their lives so uselessly.  They were dropping like flies, Boudicca slicing and dicing her way along the outer perimeter almost effortlessly, simply chopping these guys to pieces with the artless precision of a mandolin vegetable slicer instead of the flourish a warrior like her was capable of.

And I found myself with little to do but enjoy the show, as boring as it was.  It literally was like watching someone chop up bloodless vegitables, with all the thrills and chills such an endeavor garnered.  I hadn’t wanted an epic brawl and tense shootout to have occurred here, with Boudicca covered in blood and me down to my last bullet as I had to choose whether to kill one of her attackers or put one in her skull and end her misery, but I had expected exactly such a showdown.  Such spectacles had become the norm in my life, it seemed, but nothing of the sort was occurring now.

And then, mere minutes after it had started, everything seemed to be over.  Boudicca had stopped her forward progress and had posted herself up against a wall with an open entranceway that would lead her inside.  She took a moment to peek inside, inspecting its interior, before turning to look in the general direction of my position and waved her arm, indicating I should advance.  I nodded to myself, but before I pulled away from my scope, I couldn’t help but see Boudicca enter the structure on her own.

That hadn’t been the plan.  Her job had been to secure the perimeter and then wait for me to join her before the two of us entered the structure together.  It had been a simple plan, a safe plan, and a goddamned logical plan, but now she’d decided to go John Rambo on me and infiltrate the base alone.  I couldn’t imagine why someone with such astute battle acumen would do something so stupid.

Now I would have to waste time searching for her before I could devote my attention to the base itself.  I’d have to spend hours patrolling the corridors and clearing rooms alone, time that would simply go on and on and on...

“Don’t worry, Jacob,” a familiar voice from behind me said.  “It won’t take nearly as long as you think.”

“Huh?” I mumbled as I turned around, not immediately panicked as the voice was one I thought I’d heard many times before.

I found its source immediately as a tall figure loomed over me, holding the same kind of wooden staff the guards below carried.  I squinted, trying to make out features, when I was reminded that I had no other friends here besides Boudicca, making this individual an enemy.  I went for my sidearm as quickly as I could, but time seemed to literally slow for me as my hand fell to my thigh.  In the time it took for my hand to reach my pistol, the large figure leaned closer, and I could see a frown form on thin lips no longer hidden beneath his cloaked hood.

“I do apologize for this,” the voice said, sounding distinctly masculine now, with no sense of distortion even though my hand was still only half way to my pistol, “but at least this one won’t actually count.”

Count for what?  What was he…

And then the staff in his hands was flying through the air rapidly, undistorted by the sluggishness I was experiencing, impacting my skull at about the time my fingers finally brushed the hard rubber of my pistol grip.  The penetrating darkness of unconsciousness didn’t set in immediately, as it usually did, perhaps because I was moving so slow, and I had just enough time to realize that I’d been knocked unconscious nine times since arriving in Ancient Rome, and wondered if I’d get a free sandwich with my tenth…