I snorted. “Quite the character, isn’t he?”
Varus smiled. “I’ve never liked him. He spends much of his time here reading history and spending many hours wasting my time. The man loves to listen to himself speak. It was through him that I learned the Senate had plans to utilize Remus’ orb, which is why I ended up there when you arrived. I can’t be sure, but it seemed as though he had something to do with it, and that his knowledge of the plot was not because he had simply overheard another’s conversation.”
Somehow, that didn’t surprise me, but I didn’t let my suspicion show. I couldn’t understand why the man wasn’t the sharp minded, but weak bodied man he was supposed to be. My mind kept wandering to the old BBC production of I, Claudius that I loved so much, and how well I thought the actor who played Claudius had done in mimicking his mannerisms.
Suddenly my suspicions started to grow. History, after all, was written by the victors, and it was none other than Claudius himself who succeeded Caligula after his assassination.
***
I spent the next few hours chatting with Varus, comparing notes on the situation, but I kept my theories to myself. By the time I left, Varus had learned little more about Remus’ message, but at least we had ended on good terms, and I found myself starting to like the little man. He was sharp and curious. He asked if I would teach him English, and in return, he would help me with my Latin. I told him I would enjoy that, and that I looked forward to the opportunity. When my escorts arrived to take me back home, I excused myself and left with them.
Arriving at the house, I tossed Gaius and Marcus a quick salute, which they respectfully returned before opening the door and gesturing for me to head inside where I found a full house.
The away team had returned.
The team was sitting on the floor in a circle with a spot left for me. Noticing my arrival, Santino threw his arms in the air in a childlike greeting. “The prodigal son arrives,” he squealed.
I looked at him squarely. “You realize the word, ‘prodigal,’ really only means that someone is bad with money, right?”
Everyone looked at Santino, smiles on their faces. He glanced at his squad mates, wearing an embarrassed expression of his own.
He looked at me. “I fucking hate you.”
I smiled. “Love you too, buddy.”
“If you two are done,” Vincent interrupted, trying not to grin, “we were just about to begin our after action report. Maybe you can fill us in on where you’ve been when we’re done.”
“I’d be delighted, sir,” I said, sitting between him and Bordeaux.
I noticed Helena sitting across from me, a downtrodden expression on her face. I made eye contact with her, and gave her a welcoming smile. Her expression brightened at my attention, but her face remained dour.
Shifting my attention, I started things off. “So, you guys are back early.”
Vincent nodded. “Our guide was very proficient. Thanks to his direction and the location of the camp residing well inland of where we expected it to be. We made much better time than planned. Upon arrival, we scouted the camp from a distance, identified the high value target and his tent, and located key points to lay our explosives. Early the following morning, we made our way to the camp, and rigged it to blow. Our goal was to create more confusion than casualties as well as direct their attention away from us. We had to eliminate two guards during our insertion, which we hid in a tent. When first light hit, we synchronized the assassination with the triggering of our explosives. At 0535, Lieutenant Strauss fired upon the HVT, the bullet penetrating the target’s cranium. Lieutenant Bordeaux simultaneously triggered the explosive charges set around the camp, programmed on a timed sequence to detonate at random intervals.” He paused, taking a sip of water from his CamelBak. “We lingered only long enough to confirm the HVT was down and that hysteria had erupted in camp. Satisfied, we left at 0545, encountered zero resistance, and made our way back.”
I nodded. A perfectly successful mission. The only bad thing I could think of was some random archaeologist in two thousand years, who discovers what looks like a manufactured rifle bullet, that was dated to have existed during the Roman Empire. I can only imagine the book he’ll write, trying to prove time travel exists by theorizing that modern soldiers were sent back in time to fight history’s wars for them.
I’m sure he’ll be considered a crack pot.
“So, Hunter,” Vincent continued, “did you discover an answer to our problem with Caligula’s man?”
I looked around the room again, meeting each of their gazes in turn. Each was expectant, hoping I had somehow learned how to get us home.
“Well,” I began, “I’m pretty sure I’ve confirmed my theory on how we got here.”
“Maybe, you should start at the beginning,” ordered Vincent.
So I started with Varus, and how he had contacted me to discuss our arrival in the city. I told them about the document, Remus, the she-wolf and Mars, how Varus and I were related, and how we were both descended from Remus. I ended with how my rubber band sphere theory still seemed the most likely cause of our arrival.
Santino quickly spoke up. Wait, wait, wait,” he said, rubbing his head in confusion. “So, if what you’re saying is true, you’re…part… she-wolf? Or are you part god? It’s so hard to keep up with your stories sometimes, Jacob.”
Everyone just stared at him.
Bordeaux rested his head in a hand. “ Merde,” was all he said
“Santino, you really can’t be that stupid,” Wang ridiculed.
Santino simply smiled.
“He’s kidding,” I said. “But there’s more. As always. I also met Claudius, Caligula’s uncle and next emperor of Rome. It know that sounds backwards, but that’s how it turned out. The important thing is that he was nothing like history remembered him as. History remembers him as sharp mentally, but weak, feeble, and physically twitchy, but he’s nothing of the sort. Tall, blond, good looking, but mentally deranged at best. He’s basically the Lex Luthor of the Roman Empire. I don’t trust him. The guy’s evil.”
“Who’s Lex Luthor?” Helena asked.
Santino rolled his eyes. “He’s Superman’s arch nemesis. Billionaire, evil, scheming, plotting, bald. He’s the ultimate bad guy.” He sighed. “Women…”
She shifted her attention back to me. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
I tossed my hands in the air.
“Whatever,” Vincent interrupted before I could say anything else. “We’ll keep him on our short list, but until we see him do something that contradicts what we know about history, we respect him like the rest of our benefactors.”
“I like evil bad guys,” Santino offered. “Their inflated egos make for big targets.”
“They’d need to be, considering how you shoot,” Wang quipped, another sign he was feeling better. Santino pushed him playfully, and laughed at his own expense.
“An interesting day, then,” Vincent commented, “but we’ll worry about Roman politics later. Bordeaux, break out the MREs.”
The Frenchman smiled, his look indicating he was famished as well. “Yes, sir.”
I wasn’t hungry. Varus had some cheese, bread, and wine for us to snack on during our talk, so I headed to the small room I had been sharing with Helena. Finding my way to my bunk, I glanced around the room. Even though it was small, it had enough room for a few amenities, but I couldn’t help but smile. While my uniforms were folded neatly, the rest of my stuff was disheveled and unorganized, whereas Helena’s gear and personal effects were neatly stacked, arranged, folded and organized. I guess it was a universal fact that no matter where you lived on Earth, or when, women were neater.
I heard Helena’s voice from the doorway.
“Isn’t it time you cleaned the house, dear?”
I continued smiling. “Sorry, honey, but there’s a game on the TV, and I can’t be bothered. Why don’t you go do the dishes?”
