Praetorian Series [4] All Roads Lead to Rome (66 page)

Rome had still been standing.

And tourism had been at an all-time high.

I focused my thoughts and inched my time slip forward.  2022 passed.  Few tourists.  2023.  Fewer still.  2024 saw more.  But on July 22, 2025, at high noon, as I stared down at our location from my bird’s eye view, there were thousands upon thousands upon thousands of individuals gathered in St. Peter’s Square, cameras out, eyes up, wide, and mesmerized.

Could so much have changed in only four years?

Could an entire world war simply fade away in such a short amount of time?

History suggested it was entirely possible.  In 1941, prior to the events of Pearl Harbor, there was no way the conquered citizens of France or Poland could have possibly imagined the complete downfall of Nazi Germany by June of 1945.  Hell, the battered allied troops surrounded at Bastogne, France in the winter of 1944 had no way of knowing that the end was only six months away.  People constantly complained about how quickly time seemed to go for them as they grew older and older, but few of them, if any, could really appreciate just how slow it actually elapsed in retrospect.

And I was a time traveler.  If this was the only time I ever fulfilled this role fate had for some reason thrust upon me, then I was going to do it right.  I could never in good conscious return Helena and the others to a time of brutal war, not if another option was available to me.  And another option
was
available to me.

I was a goddamned
time traveler
. 

I could go anywhere I wanted.  Any when.

I concentrated.

High noon was too crowded.  We’d appear in the middle of an enormous crowd, and while I felt confident there was a way to shift our position around slightly, I certainly wasn’t confident in my ability to do so.  I ticked us forward.  Midnight.  0200.  St. Peter’s was desolate, just a few night owls, the square illuminated brightly with floodlights, the obelisk moved here by Pope Sixtus Something unmoved and calling to me like an emergency beacon.

My thoughts ceased completely, only one word coming to mind: engage.

“Jacob…”

I didn’t want to open my eyes.  Didn’t want to see it.  Didn’t want to risk it all being phoney-baloney, a dream, a hallucination, a nightmare…

“
Jacob!
”

It was Helena’s voice.  It was high pitched.  She had screamed my name.  But it took a moment for my mind to process her yell as one of sheer joy, not horrendous terror.

I opened my eyes.

Here we were.

St. Peter’s Square.

July 22, 2025.

Home.

We were home.

Beside me, I heard whoops and cries of joy and saw Santino and Wang gripping each other’s forearms, jumping up and down in circles as they screamed in joy, Santino yelling at the top of his lungs, “
mama, mia!
  We is a home-a!”

Felix neighed behind me, confused and dumbfounded.  But he was a horse.  He’d recover quickly enough.

But I wouldn’t.  Shock was only just now setting in as the muscles in my legs betrayed me completely, losing their strength in an instant.  I collapsed to a knee, my still healing leg kicking out in self-preservation, my forearms falling to rest upon my thighs, and I started to cry.  I couldn’t help it and nothing could make me stop.  It was the first time in my entire life that I could remember openly weeping tears of joy.  They flowed like waterfalls down my cheeks, and I couldn’t care less.  I didn’t care what anyone would think.

But something happened then that caused the tears to nearly dry up completely.  An odd sight caught my eyes, forcing them downward so that they could see my hands more clearly.  There were the orbs, much as they always were, but something was happening to them.  Something was… changing.  Incomprehensibly, they were altering their form.  They were… melting.  In a rush of movement, like a gelatinous mass beneath a hair dryer, the orbs broke down, became like liquid, and then… completely disintegrated in my hands.  In the blink of an eye, there was nothing left.  There was no dust upon the ground, no debris sitting in neat, red and blue piles in front of me.  They’d simply dissolved in my grasp, exiting my life as though they’d never been a part of it at all.

But I had little time to ponder what had happened to them.  No time, in fact.  A heartbeat had passed before I was body checked from the left by an assailant, sending us to the ground in a heap.  My mind sharpened, its first thought suspecting one of Agrippina’s old Praetorian Ninjas had somehow followed us here and had ambushed me.

But it had been Helena.

We’d gone to the ground hard, but her soft lips upon my own blunted the impact and everything,
everything
, suddenly became a distant memory.  Thoughts of Ancient Rome, Caesars and Praetorians, Byzantium and Caesarea, Ancient Britain, Romulus and Remus, Merlin, Agrippina, and everything else melted away just as completely as the orbs had, which was the final memory to escape me as I lost myself in Helena’s passionate assault, Wang and Santino still dancing beside us, Felix wandering away from us aimlessly.

We were home!

After seven long, brutal, horrendous years… we were
home!

It was unbelievable.  It had all been impossible.  Time travel?  Multidimensional hopping?  Making out with an empress of Rome and the queen of an ancient British tribe?  Interacting with countless historical figures?

Impossible.

Except it hadn’t been impossible.  It had been more than real.  And it was a story I knew I would have to tell someone sooner rather than later as I was growing vaguely aware of flashing red and blue lights approaching at the behest of ear-shattering sirens.  Helena sensed this too, and for the first time in nearly a minute, pulled her lips away from mine and looked up.  I followed her gaze, and saw what she saw.

Above us stood a pair of men wearing brightly colored uniforms that looked more like pajamas than duty clothes.  In the dull light I couldn’t quite make out the colors, although I already knew in my head what they were, but what stuck out in stark contrast to their clothing were the halberds they hefted, ancient pikes with curved blades at their tips, pointing directly at Helena and me.  I looked to my left, and saw a half dozen similarly dressed and equipped men threatening Wang and Santino while dozens of men in suits with pistols streamed from SUVs all around us.  Wang and Santino had their hands up like they were in a movie, but they didn’t seem particularly concerned.  They were elbowing each other like a pair of kindergartners, trying to get the other to do something stupid, all the while the Swiss Guardsmen around them shouted for them to restrain themselves.

I grinned at the whole damn situation.  I placed my hands on Helena’s head, tilted it down so that she could look at me, and basked in the joyous smile she had on her face, the kind of smile I hadn’t seen there in half a decade.  It was dazzling, infectious, and the only thing I could think to do to keep me from bawling in happiness again was to pull her down for another kiss that I intended to hold forever.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two Swiss Guardsmen glance at each other in confusion, and then I could no longer help myself. I started to laugh.  And laugh and laugh and laugh.  Helena pulled away and flopped onto her back, resting her head on my outstretched arm and joined me in uncontrollable laughter.

We were home!

There wasn’t a damn thing in this entire universe that could darken my mood today, even as the guardsmen finally came to their senses and hauled Helena and I, still laughing, to our feet before escorting us to one of their vehicles.  Just before the slammed the door shut, I could hear Santino shouting joyfully and at the top of his lungs, “We come in a peace-a!  Take us to your pope-a!”

Epilogue

Thirty Minutes Later…

I sat on an uncomfortable metal chair in a dark room with a single light source that failed to illuminate its corners, my arms crossed against my chest.  There was a small metal table in front of me and a large Italian man in a cheap Italian suit seated opposite me.  He was a serious man, who’d spoken a lot considering he was the one supposedly interrogating me.  His English was proficient although it had a thick Italian accent, but I couldn’t care less.  Just hearing the sweet, sweet sound of English being spoken by a new voice was music to my ears.

“I will ask you again, sir,” the man said.  “How were you able to simply appear within the confines of the Vatican with… a horse?”

I smiled at him.  “Hunter.  Jacob.  Lieutenant.  Praetorian Guard.  Wasn’t around long enough to get a service number.”

He frowned.  “Is that all you will say?”

I cocked my head to the side.  “No.  But that’s all I’ll say to
you
.”

“Who will you speak with then?”

“Someone who knows me.”

“And who might know you?”

I waved a hand at him dismissively.  “You have all the relevant information you need.  Go find someone.”

The nameless Italian security goon remained impassive, but a moment later, he stood from his chair and walked to the door.  He knocked a few times and then the door opened.  He moved to step out.

“One more thing, Antonio.”

He turned, his voice and face emotionless.  “That is not my name.”

“Who cares?”  I asked rhetorically.  “There’s one more thing I want before I say anything.”

He lifted his thick eyebrows, but while he didn’t say anything, he also didn’t leave.

“I want a pizza,” I said bluntly.  “Hot and steamy.  All the toppings.  I don’t even care if it’s a piece of crap pizza from Dominos.  I want one and I won’t talk until I get one.”

The man didn’t move for a moment, maybe wondering if I was serious or not, but when I held his glare steadily, he finally rolled his eyes and walked through the door.

“Thirty minutes or less, right?”  I called after him as the door shut.  “Right?”

The man behind the door locked it, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

“Crap,” I mumbled to myself.  “Didn’t they discontinue that deal when you were a kid?  Yeah.  I think they did.  Assholes…”

***

Thirty three minutes later…

The door opened again and the Italian man returned, the sweet, sweet smell of a pizza preceding him.

I glanced at my watch.  “You’re three minutes late,
amigo
.”  I caught myself again.  “Ah, shit… that’s Spanish, isn’t it?”

He looked at me with a mixed look of impatience and anger but didn’t say anything as he tossed the box on the table.  It slid and almost fell on the floor but I managed to catch it before any precious cargo was lost.  I looked at the box.

Dominos.

I looked up, a scowl on my face.  “Really?  It’s the year 2025 and you bring me Dominos?  In Rome? 
Dominos?!
  You’re telling me the Ruskies didn’t blow up their HQ or something?  Did any good come of that big war we just had?”

The Italian man left.

***

Five minutes later…

The pizza may have been crap, but it had been the most delicious crap I’d ever consumed.  I was just in the process of licking my fingers clean, having polished off the pizza in record time, having sped up the process by eating two slices at a time stacked on top of one another, cheese to cheese – I’d learned that trick back in college – when the door opened again.

In stepped a man, but unlike the Italian goon I’d recently been in contact with, this man wore military style cargo pants, tucked into his boots and bloused professionally.  He took only a single step into the room, leaving his face shrouded by the poor lighting, and I squinted at him.

“Don’t look so embarrassed, Hunter,” the voice said.  “I’ve known you to down bigger pizzas than that in far less time.”

My eyes widened.  I recognized that voice.  I recognized that voice… again.  And like last time, I didn’t believe my own ears.

The man must have read the shock all over my face.  He laughed lightly.  “Nice to know you remember me, Jacob.”

“You…” I stammered.  “You can’t be alive.  You’re dead.  I saw you die!”

The man stepped forward and into the light, revealing himself to be none other than Paul Archer.  A curious look crossed his face as he took another step forward, slipped around the vacant chair, and sat in it.  “Oh, did you now?  Odd.  I don’t remember you being there when my team was wiped out in North Korea and SOCOM left me to rot in deep, dark hole for over two years.”

“You… you…” I stammered again, but then I regained control of my mind again.  “Wait.  You made it out?”

He nodded.  “I did.  A Chinese spec ops team sprung me not long after you disappeared.  It was a joint venture with your former Team, in fact.”

“My Team?”  I asked.  “My SEALs?”

“Good guys…”

“Yeah, they were… but with a Chinese spec ops team?”  I asked myself, my face scrunching in confusion as it jerked back on its own.  “I thought they were allied with the Koreans.  Or… at least neutral.”

“You’re way out of the loop, my friend.  Way out.”

“Yeah, obviously…”

“But enough about me,” Archer said, folding his hands on the table.  “What about you?  Mind telling me where you’ve been the past four years?”

“So I really am home then…” I mumbled, breathing in a deep sigh of relief after the near scare that was a living Archer when he had been assumed dead.  Then another thought hit me.  “Wait… I’ve been in Rome less than an hour.  What the hell are
you
doing here?”

He spread his arms wide before dropping them into his lap as he leaned back in his chair.  “I’m a Praetorian now.  Well.  I will be for the next three months until my stint is over and I’ll head back to the Navy.”

“You…” I shook my head, growing upset at my inability to comprehend what was going on.  After everything I’d been through in Ancient Rome, one would think I’d have little problem following a little, probably irrelevant, side story.  “Wait… but you’re not even Catholic.”

He shrugged.  “Who, me?  Hardly.  Episcopalian.  Lapsed, honestly.”

“Then how are you even here?”

“Religious orientation wasn’t much of a priority after your team went dark.  Besides, I gave a hell of an interview.”

“You had to interview?”

“You didn’t?”

“No, they asked me.”

“Well, lucky you.”

“Hardly…” I mumbled, memories that were far too fresh still stuck in my mind.  “But why interview at all?”

“Because of you.”

“Me?”

“Because of the operation you planned to come get me before you joined up with the Vatican.  The one SOCOM rejected.”

“You heard about that?”  I asked, almost embarrassed.

“Not until I came home, of course,” he indicated with a shrug.  “I was touched, believe me, especially after the way we had parted ways.  I deserved that ass kicking you gave me, and I had a long time to reflect on it during my time in Korea.  Then word got out that your team had gone dark, and I wanted to help find you.  So I petitioned to join the Pope’s little band of high speed door kickers.”

“Papal door kickers,” I said, smirking.  “I like that…”

He smiled.  “Does have wonderfully ironic ring to it, doesn’t it…”

“Sure does.”

I found myself smiling full bloom now, amazed at the level of camaraderie Archer and I almost immediately fell into.  Maybe it had something to do with the time I’d spent with his doppelganger combined with his own, apparent, self-reflection, but I found myself immediately liking the man.

“You…” he started, the one to look a bit embarrassed this time.  “You should know that when we lost contact with you, your sister took it really hard.  She and I… well, we reconnected.  It was good for both of us.  Time heals, and all that.  I can’t even imagine how she’ll react when she sees you.”

I lost my smile immediately.  “You two aren’t…”

He shrugged.  “Kind of…”

“Great…” I muttered.  “That’s just great.  When did that happen?”

“A few years ago, but, look, this isn’t getting us anywhere.  I’m here to talk to you because you wanted to talk to someone associated with the program.  So here I am, but now isn’t the time for bullshit.  You really spooked the Swiss Guard back in the square, and, as you can imagine, they’re pretty jumpy when something spooks them in the Vatican.”

I looked at the table, searching my mind for questions.  “What about the war?  What happened?”

“You first.  We’ll get to that later.”

“What about Helena?  Where is she?  And the guys?”

“They’re fine,” he answered, growing impatient.  “Speaking to the rest of my team, just like you are.”

“They’re all right?”

“They’re fine, Jacob.”

“And Felix?”

“Who’s that?”

“My horse.”

“Oh.  He’s fine too.  Stabled.  Now, Jacob… where have you been?”

I took in a deep breath, preparing myself to spin the greatest yarn of my life.  “Well, you’d better have that grumpy Italian fetch us something to drink, and maybe another pizza or two.  We’re going to be here for a while.

***

Four hours later…

I hadn’t stopped speaking since I’d started, only taking small breaks to take a drink of wine or a bite of pizza.  Between Archer and me, we’d polished off two bottles of
vino
and a trio of pizzas, this time from a local joint that made a pie almost as good as any I’d had in the States.  It had been quite a treat, even if the story I’d just told had left a sour taste in my mouth.

Archer hadn’t said much, only asking the random question every so often.  They’d been good questions, and I’d elaborated when I could, but I mostly kept to the script I’d developed in my head: the truth.  I’d tried to cover everything, details about Agrippina, my time spent with Merlin, the fact that Romulus and Remus were more than history remembered them, and the fact that I’d once possessed orbs that had allowed me to travel in time and hop across realities.

There’d only been one thing I’d left out about the story: the fact that, as far as I knew, the red orb from this timeline was still buried deep beneath the Temple of Lupercal.  It wasn’t that I didn’t trust the Vatican, but… well, it was that I didn’t trust anyone.  I had to assume that with this knowledge, they’d try and find it, and while I wanted to believe they’d do the right thing with it, I knew it was probably for the best to just leave it be.

For now.

Archer hadn’t seemed impressed, especially since we couldn’t provide any evidence of the orbs’ existence, but at least he’d sat patiently while I’d spoken, doing his best to remain emotionless even after I’d told him about Archer 2.0 and Diana 2.0, and their particular fates.  Now that I was finished, his silence continued as he mulled over my words, occasionally glancing at the notes he’d taken along the way.  Tapping the screen on his fancy solid slab of glass that served as his computing device, he shut it down and glanced up at me.

“Some story,” he remarked.

“You’re telling me,” I said with a shake of my head.

“And all of it’s true?”

“Every word.”

“Even the part about how you manipulated a beautiful sniper to fall in love with you, how you bathed with an equally beautiful empress of the Roman Empire, and made out with a British queen who moonlighted as a body builder?”

I sighed, leaned back, and crossed my arms.  “I guess I should have left out a few details…”

He waved a hand at me.  “No, that’s okay.  I like juicy details.  Besides, you’re actually pretty lucky.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I believe you,” he said, leaning back in his chair as he held his hands along the edge of the table.  “Your friends, on the other hand, will have a more difficult time convincing my troops.”

I lifted my chin.  “You know about the orb.”

He nodded.  “Believe it or not, but the fourth Praetorian team is
my
team.  I know about the orbs… well, I knew about the blue orb, at least.  When you disappeared, it was one of the many possible reasons we’d considered, but it was near the bottom of our list.  For all we knew, you’d simply been killed in action and your bodies stolen.  It seemed far more likely.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly.  “I bet it would.”

Without prompting, Archer smacked the table and rose to his feet, jolting me.  He looked at me smugly.  “A bit jittery, are we, Jacob?”