Just as I was about to head back into my room, Bordeaux rushed in behind me, almost running me down with his bulky frame.
“ excusez-moi,” he mumbled mockingly. “Rush, rush, rush.”
Smiling at his own silliness, he shoved me into my room.
I stumbling through the doorway and shot him an ugly stare, which he, of course, completely ignored.
Helena noticed my clumsiness, and laughed. “Boy, you are quite the klutz, and not just around ‘attractive women’,” she said, batting her eyelashes at me. “I’m amazed you made it through puberty.”
Offering her a sarcastic smile, I threw her assault bag at her a little harder than I should have. She caught it with a “whoof.”
“And a temper too,” she said, pressing the back of her palm to her forehead. “Hold me back.” She continued smiling as she pulled on her vest, and began snapping her thigh platforms together. She had her pistol on her right leg, and magazine pouches for her DSR-1 on her left. She pulled on her bag, slung her DSR-1 over her shoulder, somewhat awkward with the large bag, and shouldered her P90. “I’ll meet you outside, Jacob.”
She tried to squeeze past me to get through the door, but just before she could, instinct took over. I lashed out and grabbed her arm, swinging her around into my own arms. Before she could protest, which I was mostly sure she wouldn’t, I leaned her back, pressed my lips against hers, and waited for her to punch me again.
I felt her stiffen ever so slightly, not out of apprehension or protest, or even fear, but perhaps just from the novelty of the experience. Her lips were soft and tender, and I felt her resolve tighten quickly. Almost immediately I felt her arms snaking around my neck, and I knew I’d avoided another excruciating black eye. Pulling her even closer, I drank in as many details as I could. The sweet scent of her hair, the subtle, yet equally pleasing odor of her skin, and the texture of her delicate lips. The stimulation was so intoxicating that I didn’t want to let go; only doing so when I thought she might run out of air.
Backing away, I saw her eyes were closed, and her lips still puckered. It was an expression as innocent as a young woman could wear after her first kiss with a new guy. Cupping her chin in a hand, I waited for her eyes to open.
When they did, I gave her a smile. “Just in case something happens.”
She looked at me, her mouth moving, but with no words coming out.
I heard someone clear their throat, and for a second I thought the moment would be ruined by a horrible joke from Santino. Instead, I looked over to see Bordeaux, still standing there, smiling in our direction. Catching my eye, he just shook his head with a smile, and left the room.
Helena smiled as well and gave me a playful shove away from her. “Just don’t get yourself killed, Lieutenant. I’ve decided I like you after all.”
“Knowing there’s someone to come home to makes surviving that much more important. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t.” She said as she left. I watched her go for a half second wondering if I’d just won something. Like an Awesome Contest of something. Helena’s affection was a prize any man would die for, but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t that kissing her was some grand victory, but it made me remember I had something to fight for again. Like I said. Someone to come home to. Trapped in Rome kind of took away that luxury, and I nearly kicked myself for almost depriving myself of it. Grabbing my own gear and snapping everything together on the run, I rushed out of my room, a grin worthy of Santino himself on my face.
Upon arrival, I noticed the front door was still open where Gaius stood guard, and the rest of the team just started to file into the room. Helena was standing near the door and gave me a smile. Santino seemed to notice her joyful expression and arched an eyebrow in my direction. I gave him a shrug, and left it at that. Let him figure it out for himself.
Vincent was last out of his room, clipping his belt together as he rounded the corner. Not one to waste time on endless speeches, he moved towards the door. “Here we go. Remember, we don’t know what’s going on out there, so don’t get trigger happy. We don’t need to be the cause of an uprising that would never have happened had we not gotten involved.”
I had to laugh at the hypocrisy of that statement. We’d already caused more than our share of problems that wouldn’t have happened had we not been here. The riot most probably included.
Following Vincent, we made our way to the Palatine, with Gaius in the lead. Night had fallen, and we immediately noticed the glow of numerous fires popping up near the outskirts of the city. It looked as though Quintilius couldn’t do much to stop the rioters after all.
With the riot in mind, I was having trouble understanding why this was happening now. Caligula had ruled for a number of years before he was finally deposed by his own Praetorians, and that was well after he had gone insane. So, why was this happening now? The only theory I could come up with is that our presence sped up someone’s timetables, and instead of letting Caligula’s insanity do the hard work of turning his own people against him, they were going to force the issue.
It didn’t matter. We were on our way to the Domus Augusti, and I didn’t have time to think about it. We double timed it and made the trip in less than fifteen minutes. Greeting us was a small unit of Caligula’s bodyguards, fifty strong, guarding the front door. Seeing Gaius, they waved us through.
The home was sparsely furnished, but majestic, inherited from Tiberius, and before him, Augustus. Moving through the atrium and main foyer, complete with a simple, but elegant fountain, we made our way into Caligula’s bedroom, which, like the rest of the house, was nearly empty. His bed dominated the room, taking up almost half of the space, but leaving enough room to hold a hundred men. Moving inside, we immediately took up defensive positions. Bordeaux posted up on the main doorway we had just entered, and Helena moved to a balcony opposite his position, overlooking the city, pulling out her DSR-1. Santino and I moved to cover an adjacent hallway, the only other way into the room. Each of us pulled off our assault bags, and tossed them in a corner.
Vincent and Wang moved towards Caligula with Gaius.
The could be great emperor of Rome lay in the center of his bed, with a light sheet covering his body. He was sweating profusely and his skin was gray and clammy. His closed eyes were fluttering rapidly.
Vincent stepped to the left side of the bed while Wang went to the right, both looking down at the seemingly dying man. Wang placed his hand on Caligula’s forehead, as a mother would do her sick toddler. Shaking his head, he pulled out a stethoscope and a thermometer, while simultaneously checking his pulse. After using both tools and consulting his watch, his expression only seemed bleaker.
“What’s the diagnosis?” Vincent asked.
Wang shook his head again. “People don’t go from perfectly healthy to a bedridden fever in a matter of a few hours. If I had to guess, I would have to agree that poison is the primary suspect.”
Vincent nodded, understanding the Romans’ penchant for poison. “What can you do for him?”
“Well, I don’t have the equipment to perform a full spectrum analysis of his blood, so there is no way to determine exactly what’s wrong with him. However, I suspect that the poison isn’t what’s killing him.”
“Then what is?”
“The fever,” he said instantly. “A high grade one. I’m not the history buff you or Hunter are, but I know enough about medicine to know that poor sanitation is, and always has been, the leading cause of disease. As we’ve experienced, clean water is scarce here and people aren’t aware of proper dietary habits either. I suspect the poison is very simple, because it doesn’t need to work itself around the wonders of modern medicine. Instead, it attacks the immune system, shutting it down to the point where you easily contract the first disease you come across. It’s like cancer. It doesn’t kill you, but something as benign as a bloody cold that you contract and can’t fight because your immune system is destroyed does.”