Quintilius’ face immediately brightened, a shred of hope emerging.
“Tell your men to not wander far from the house, and make sure you redirect your remaining ones to arrive from the rear.”
That would be difficult. The back of the house was a steep hill, perfect for Helena’s sniper perch, but not for a reinforcing army.
“The rest of us will provide fire support with our rifles. When they reach the house, stay low, and we’ll fire over you. If things get really bad, fall back, and shield us while we put them down with sustained weapons fire. Remember the armor sets?”
Apparently the man did. Practically laughing, he struggled to salute before running off to inform his soldiers of our plans.
By the time Santino and Bordeaux returned, Wang had completed his setup and began checking Caligula’s vitals at regular intervals, looking for signs of improvement. I looked at him and he shook his head. We’d have to wait awhile before he found any.
“So what now?” Santino asked.
“Okay. Here’s the plan.” Vincent laid out his thoughts as clearly as he could. “Bordeaux, I want you upfront with the Romans. Provide as much support as you can from your position, but for the love of God, don’t get yourself killed. When things get bad, fall back. Santino and I will take up positions here, at the main doorway, and wait for you to fall back. Hunter, hang back with Strauss and provide additional sniper support from her position. From the looks of it, you two will have a decent angle on the mob’s flank. Try and make your shots count. If things start to get really bad, we’ll pack up Caligula, and move him out the back as quickly as possible. Make no mistake, we are now outlaws, and even if we get Caligula out of here and healthy again, we’ll be doing nothing but setting up a splinter government. If that happens, our best bet is to get in contact with the legions.”
“Sir!” Helena called from her balcony. “We’ve got friendlies incoming. Six o’clock.”
“Good. Direct them to the front.” He turned back to us. “Any questions?”
We shook our heads, and made our way to our assigned positions. Eighty Praetorians shuffled past me, and I had to push through them just to get to the balcony. Still shaking my head, I fought my way through, and made my way to Helena’s position, thinking about how this wasn’t going to be a fight, but a slaughter.
I’d had to kill civilians before, but never unarmed ones. Each time I did so, it was because I had a legitimate reason. Either I was going to die, or they were, and I never hesitated. The men coming for us were armed with pitch forks and torches, something out of an old black and white movie. A mob of villagers storming the steps of Nosferatu’s castle.
They didn’t have a chance, and I wasn’t going to shoot them unless I felt threatened.
Reaching the balcony, I unslung Penelope, and released the spring keeping her bipod’s legs parallel to the barrel. They snapped into a V formation, and I rested them on the banister, giving me a platform to peer through my Version II Modular Advanced Combat Optical Gunsight. The VerII ACOG was a top of the line combat sight. It had a modular zoom from 1-power to 8-power, perfect for close range fighting and distance shooting. It was slightly longer and thicker than an ACOG from ten years ago, but it was no more cumbersome. A simple touch interface along the side allowed for a single finger to slide along the exterior of the sight to determine the magnification. It was more a camera than a magnifier. It was a major step forward in weapon optics versatility, and its night vision capabilities made it an all-in-one purpose scope. It had been damn pricy, but I loved it.
“So what’s the plan?” Helena asked. “And what’s wrong?”
I had to smile a bit, despite the situation. It was nice to know she cared. “We’re going to slaughter them. All of them. And for what? To save a man who will probably turn out all right anyway? I don’t understand what Vincent’s doing. We’ve already fucked up so much.” I sighed, knowing I had to clear my head before others had to start relying on me. It wouldn’t be fair to them. “Sorry. I guess none of that matters.”
She continued to look through her scope. “It’s nice to know you’re not just going to fold up and let us get killed, especially me. Now, what does Vincent want us to do?”
“About what you’d expect,” I answered. “Protect our flanks by keeping them from wanting to come this way. If any of them stray in our direction, we take them out. I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to sit up here and pick off civilians. I’m targeting officers first, soldiers second, and only those civilians I deem an immediate threat last. If we can thin out the soldiers, our buddies out front can probably hold against the civilians all night.”
She looked at me with concern in her eyes, and I couldn’t help but notice her hands were shaking. “As simple as that?” She asked.
I tried to put on a sympathetic face. “It’s never that simple, Helena. It’s damn complicated actually, but if we don’t do what we have to do here, we may not make it home to regret it later.”
She nodded a few moments later, turning her attention back to her rifle to fidget with her scope.
***
Five minutes later, we saw the tip of the mob, led by rebel Praetorians, still clad in their ceremonial white togas. As I guessed, the plebeians were armed with pitchforks and torches, but also had clubs, axes, old swords, and other simple tools. They wouldn’t be an issue, but the Praetorians, as powerful as any military group, was another matter.
“Sir,” I called to Vincent. “Tangos inbound. ETA two minutes. Permission to engage?”
“Granted.”
And with that, Helena and I began to rain fire down upon the unsuspecting Romans.
At first, they took little notice of the fact that many of their co-conspirators were dying around them. I let Helena do most of the work in the beginning, her DSR- 1 and 10x scope far more accurate than I was with my ACOG. With it, she was able to surgically pick off men marching along the exposed flank of the column. She never shot two men standing next to each other, and was so far, was only targeting soldiers.
After a few dozen Praetorians had fallen over the stretch of a few blocks, the rebels began noticing what was happening, and started to panic. Most had no idea that we, and not the gods, were to blame for the deaths, and many civilians fled out of fear.
But not many.
The vanguard’s next step dissuaded far more, as they triggered the first of Santino’s claymores. Each claymore was designed to explode in a hundred and forty degree arc, and was loaded with tiny pieces of shrapnel. Within seconds, dozens more were either dead or on their way towards the pearly gates. Crazily, the mob pushed on, still thousands strong despite the casualties and desertions. No longer hindered with the need to preserve the element of surprise, I opened fire in controlled bursts that sent maybe a hundred men to the grave. Combined with Helena’s pinpoint strikes, we racked up an impressive kill count before they even reached the house’s courtyard.
“What is it Americans say? Like shooting fish in a barrel?” Helena observed, disgust emanating from her voice.
“Yah, or like ancient Romans in the street. Real heroic.”
Helena mumbled an agreement, but didn’t stop firing.
By the time the second claymore exploded, the mob had just reached the house’s gated courtyard. Even so, their line still snaked around behind the house, offering Helena and me a few stragglers to pick off.
We left the civilians.
Without any more targets of opportunity remaining, I patted Helena on the shoulder, letting her know that I was falling back.
“Stay here and watch out for a flank. I’m going to see if I can help out front. If you need me give me a shout on the radio.”
She turned and gave me a smile and a nod, but quickly focused in on her sights again, one hand on the trigger, the other reaching for a bag of ammunition.
I turned and headed back towards Vincent, checking my ammo as I went, hearing a third claymore go off in the background. I had carried ten loaded magazines in my vest, but found each lying empty in my dump pouch. As smoothly as I could, I replaced my empty magazine pouches with fresh mags from my go-bag. Hopefully, I’d have time to reload my empty ones before the main assault.
Vincent and Santino were still standing in the doorway, waiting for the action to come their way. Since the
