Local Zealots preached fanatically about how Rome had come in and ordered the assassination of their beloved king, and how the next step was the complete extermination of the Jewish people. The local procurator, Cuspius Fadus, tried to quell the fires, only to have his home stormed by rioters where he was summarily beaten and executed.
Whoops.
That had been enough for Rome. A few weeks later, the local legion garrison had laid siege to the once great city of Caesarea and went about destroying both it and its citizens. Once the Romans showed up, King Herod revealed himself to his people, offering that he’d escaped capture and that his death had all been a plot to further subjugate the people. He spoke of how proud and touched he was by his fellow Jewish response, and urged them to stand up against the Romans. Thus began the local resistance against Rome, led by Herod. We hadn’t seen him since, mostly keeping to ourselves, and the only additional information we had was that the rebellion had spread well outside of Caesarea and into the surrounding province… but we haven’t received any further intelligence in a while.
Hence why Helena and I were currently sitting atop one of the few surviving towers the city still had, playing our role as sniper support to the besieged citizens:
To make sure the rebellion lasted as long as possible, at least in this city.
Every night we’d come up here, or one of the other remaining high points, and dissuade at least two dozen legionnaires from invading the camp. That was generally enough to stall any potential large scale invasions for the immediate future.
We were only facing one problem.
We’re finally running out of ammo.
Our shortage is forcing us to pick our targets more selectively to conserve what we had left, and we still didn’t know if Agrippina was going to show up or not, but I was still confident she will.
The woman loves getting her hands dirty with unruly men.
It was kinda her calling card.
Anyway, Helena’s just finished setting up shop for the night, so I might as well end this. There isn’t much more to say. I do want to officially apologize to Herod — and to history — for what I did. He may have grudgingly accepted what we did to him, but I still get the feeling he doesn’t like me, so I want it on record that I’m sorry. Desperate situations call for desperate solutions, and we need to put things right and get home…
We’re willing to do anything at this point.
Anything.
Well… adios amigos.
“Do you think you’ll stay in the military when we get home?” Helena asked.
“Hmm?” I replied, blindly trying to place my journal back in my bag.
“The military. Will you stay in if we get home?”
“Hmm.” I said, pulling out my binoculars and laying them against my bag, scanning the horizon. “I haven’t thought about it to be honest…” I paused. “Check, check, two tangos, twelve o’clock, six hundred yards out. At least, I try not to. Why do you ask?”
“Because I have been thinking about it,” she answered, squinting through her scope. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, actually. For a few weeks now.”
“Such as…” I prompted distractedly.
“What my life will be like for one. What I’ll do with it, another,” she paused. “Like what kind of boyfriend you’ll be when life is more…” she fired off two rounds, “… normal. Tangos eliminated.”
I confirmed her kills and marked them on a kill sheet I’d been keeping since the siege began, tracking numbers and troop movement. I placed the binoculars in front of my eyes again, but thought better of it and turned to look at Helena instead. She was seated a few feet to my left and sat Indian style on a rock that placed her about a foot or so above my position. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest, holding her rifle in a way that balanced it across her body and in the crook of her elbow, the stalk against her shoulder like always. Using her knees as support, the position was extremely comfortable and very efficient for sniper work.
“You mean in a place where romantic Friday night outings, like tonight, won’t be filled with killing Romans? Sounds dreadful.”
She didn’t respond, a frown forming on her lips.
“Come on,” I joked, looking back through my binoculars. “That was kinda funny.”
Her lips twitched. “Maybe a little,” she relented before sighing. “I guess I’ve just been fantasizing too much. Giving myself false hope as to how our lives could be if we weren’t here. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”
“Can’t be any more than usual,” I said, still scanning the horizon.
She didn’t answer, and when I glanced back at her again, I saw that she was frowning.
I had to admit, she had been acting strange lately, even more so than a few months ago. Her level of patience with Santino and I seemed to be at an all-time low. We weren’t that much worse than normal, but she was displaying less patience with us than ever. And then there was the physical part. Always waking up early and wandering off on her own during the day, and her pain attacks seemed to occur more frequently these days. Something was bothering her, and her silence on the matter had made me thinking she was turning into me.
Except I knew better than to tell her that.
“Hey, with the two of us,” I said, hoping to cheer her up, “it’s got to be pretty fantastic.”
“I have my doubts to be honest,” she said, her voice filled with an odd mix of honesty and playfulness. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re cute, occasionally humorous and a nice guy when you want to be, but something tells me you’re going to be no better than most lazy American men. The ones who want little more from their women except sex and having someone to bring them food.”
I winced, trying to hide the expression by turning back to my scope. She wasn’t completely wrong. I hated dating. I liked my “me time” and would generally prefer just staying home or hanging out with friends, like back in college when all we’d do is play Beer Pong all night. Of course, I preferred having a woman do those things with me, and after all this time, I knew that any part of my normal life would only be that much more complete with Helena in it.
That said, the old beat up couch I had back home was one of the things I missed the most these days.
“Are you kidding?” I asked excitedly. “We’ll do lots of stuff. It’ll be great. Like this, just without the Romans, and the killing, and the running, and the…” I trailed off, Helena’s point finally hitting home.
What we had together here in Rome was really little more than a happy product of convenience and necessity than an honest relationship. We loved each other, sure, but if we were ever faced with the atmosphere to build a true relationship, like any twenty first century couple, would we cut it?
“Okay,” I sighed. “Give me the bad news.”
Her tone immediately perked up and lightened.
“Don’t worry. It’s not that bad. First, you take me dancing three times a month, out to eat every Thursday night, with something fancy at least once month. We’ll also need an activity like hiking or rock climbing, something to get your lazy ass off the couch and keep you in shape. Finally, you must agree to go to a play, ballet, opera, or musical. Four times a year.”
I was speechless. ‘Not that bad?’ It was everything but. That was an extremely belligerent set of demands for someone who preferred their couch and Chinese takeout over just about anything. I had to put an end to this before she got too carried away.