Operation Rubicon Read online

  Julius Caesar was an important one and an undeniably influential one, but he was never Monica's favorite. She was much more of a fan of the rulers of Rome with the most interesting stories and those tended to be the more warped figures. She loved learning all about the weird little quirks Caligula did, especially, like giving his horse a position of power in the government. She loved reading about all of Commodus’ strange machinations for the entertainment of the Colosseum crowds. And she basked in trying to understand what Nero was thinking as his domain was on fire.

  Rome and its various rulers had been her obsession since she was four years old. To think how successful it had been...even with such inconsistency in its leadership. Whether it was a republic or an empire, Rome had been set to be the strongest civilization that the world had ever seen. The fire had burned so brightly...it was a shame that it was extinguished.

  Rome, as it was, had been nearly perfect and it could be even better in the modern world.

  Unfortunately, Ancient Rome's presence in the modern world was relegated to museum exhibits. People in the current day only thought that it was useful to give lectures on or look at displays to pass time on a boring Sunday afternoon. One of the most prolific empires in history was now just kept behind glass, to be looked at but never touched, never truly experienced.

  It was more than a shame. It was a crime!

  Every day that Monica spent as the floor manager of the Palazza Nuovo was spent doing nothing but thinking about how horrible Rome's fate truly was. It’d been reduced in its status, disregarded, and put on a shelf to sell tickets. She could do so much more with those items that were sitting in their display cases. She could do so much more with the teachings of Ancient Rome than putting up a plaque. Rome could be so powerful again, if it could just break free from those exhibits, if the rest of the modern world could see its real usefulness.

  When the day came that Monica overheard two men talking about their aspirations for Rome—to fulfill their dream of seeing it brought back in all of its former glory, she quickly realized that she wasn't alone in the world. There were people who shared her beliefs and her admiration and respect for the Rome she cherished deeply. She needed to speak to them, so she did, and immediately knew that she’d found the people who would help give her purpose.

  Sal and Matteo were the people she hoped would help her resurrect a dead civilization. It wouldn't be an easy task but she was confident that they all brought something valuable to the table.

  Sal was good with words, an excellent public speaker, and would be the perfect voice to spread their message to the rest of the world. He’d be able to convince any doubters that they were doing something truly special. He could bend someone's opinion in their direction in a matter of minutes because his argument was difficult to deny. Sometimes he didn't always think through what he was saying, but that was what Monica was good at doing—making his words as much of a reality as she could.

  Matteo could probably crush someone's skull with his bare hands if he tried and Monica liked the idea that they had someone with such brute force to help them. She and Sal weren't the best of fighters, but they could direct the monster of a man to cause destruction in valuable places. He wasn't the most interesting person to talk to, but she didn't need him to talk. She just needed Matteo to throw his physical power around here and there. If Sal's words couldn't bend people to their cause, then Matteo could always try flexing them to see their way with his bare hands instead.

  Monica was the real brains behind the Third Triumvirate. She wasn't the most well-spoken, in fact sometimes she was quite anxious and shy. She certainly wasn't the strongest since she had trouble lifting even some of the most simple of things, and she definitely didn't know how to fight well. What she did know...was how to execute an idea and make it work. So often, running the presentation of the museum, she had to think on her feet, sometimes improvise, and come up with the best way to pull something off. Her whole job was to make sure that a presentation was effective and moving to the ones that were going to see it. Her role with the Third Triumvirate was primarily the same. She thought of the ways to best carry out their plans and figure out the most efficient way to spread their beliefs to others.

  To really pull this off, though, it’d take more than three people. They couldn't just be people anymore if they were going to move forward with their plans. They had to be something much more than regular civilians who were preaching praises for the Roman Empire. They had to become something else entirely—symbols or idols...something that people would notice and remember. They had to personify ideas since ideas were far more than just regular flesh and blood. Ideas couldn't be killed easily, they had to be snuffed out, and sometimes destroying ideas was an impossible task. They had to be more than human, and it was a challenge to transform themselves into something more.

  The masks were Monica's idea and they were the key. Masks had power to both hide one's identity but to also show something else about that person. The masks they needed would have to stand out and be remembered. They had to be simple, yet also speak to their mission. It was on a random morning when she thought of the idea of making the masks look like the statues of different Roman emperors—specifically the supposedly crazy emperors that she used to admire. Those emperors were memorable and were capable of immediately making someone interested. With the masks came their new identities, and the first time she ever referred to herself as Miss Caligula.

  Monica, Sal, and Matteo each chose one of the emperors, each adorning the stone face of the one that best represented who they were as people. Naturally, Matteo selected Commodus since both loved the Colosseum and both thought of themselves as warriors. Sal wore Nero's mask, representing his desire to see the modern world catch fire and burn to ash. Monica opted for Caligula because he’d always been her favorite and his insane stories always spoke to her. He was most likely deranged, she couldn't deny, but there was a certain genius to his madness. Who knew what strange shapes he could have twisted the world into if he wasn't assassinated by his own guards?

  That was the real reason they chose those emperors—they were rulers that deserved a second chance. The world hadn't been ready for the peculiar displays of power that they showed their citizens at the time, that was all.

  It might have been a crazy idea but that just made it all the more fitting that they wore the faces of madmen. The world needed some insanity to help get it back on track.

  Once the three of them donned the masks for the first time, they all felt it—they knew this was who they were meant to be. The Third Triumvirate was brought to life that day, and they weren’t going to rest until the real Rome was brought back to life, too.

  Miss Caligula wouldn't let anyone stand in the way of Ancient Rome's revival.

  15

  THE FACES BEHIND THE MASKS

  Monica didn't have that welcoming, warm demeanor anymore. She wasn't the pleasant floor manager of the Palazza Nuovo. She was something else, something scary. She transformed into something even worse than the passive gray face of Caligula that she’d been donning. Her real face was twisted into a cruel scowl.

  Nina stood there, stunned, and her mind was racing. She felt like she was Scooby-Doo unmasking the monster, but this wasn't some cartoon. This was real life, and, as usual, it didn't make sense.

  “Why?” It was all she could say in that moment. She could feel her blood boiling. This woman had been playing them from the start. Nina felt stupid for having ever comforted Monica in front of the museum. That breakdown...that grief...it was all just an act.

  “Why?” Monica repeated mockingly. “That's what you're going to ask after all of this? We told you why from the very beginning, remember? The Third Triumvirate has always made its intentions more than clear!”

  “Bringing Ancient Rome back,” Nina said knowingly. “And all of that shit that you like to stuff in those pathetic letters? I remember. And do you really buy into all of that insanity?”

  “Of course
I do,” Monica said through gritted teeth. “Because it's right. Right for my home. Right for the rest of the world.”

  “So you really are delusional. I can understand that, but why the facade at the museum? Why kill Santino? He was your boss--.”

  “Hardly,” Monica laughed. “He was an imbecile. You knew that. I could tell you did. All he cared about was whatever would bring in more guests to his precious exhibits. He might have actually cared about history once but not anymore, probably not for a very long time. You saw how he was. He barely even appreciated what was being taken from all of the other museums. He wanted the sword just so he could get bodies into that place. That was all.”

  “But he wasn't a threat to you.”

  “Not at first, and if I'm being honest...I never planned to kill him. But he saw my mask. I made one little misstep, and he saw it...it had to be corrected. For the good of Rome.”

  Nina knew her cheeks were flush with anger. The logic all of three members of the Third Triumvirate had were infuriating. “Again with that act...it wasn't for Rome. It was just for you. Covering your own ass. You screwed up and then wrote that letter to act like his death was part of the Triumvirate's plans. That's horribly messy of you and just proves my point. You three have no real plan. This whole debacle is just a sham so you can take things that don't belong to you...including people's lives!”

  “You're wrong, Dr. Gould.” Monica said. “A new age is coming for Rome, and we need Caesar's sword to get us there.”

  Nina just shook her head. These crazy people were surely set in their ways.

  “You know what, it's a fitting choice for you to wear Caligula's face. You two lunatics are a perfect match. One in the same, really, you know that?”

  Mr. Nero hobbled up the steps, still limping from the blow that Riley had managed to land to his leg. It made his ascent up the audience steps quite slow and cumbersome, but he was still coming. A knife still gleamed in his hand. It was hard to see how much pain he was in but Nina hoped that he was hurting very badly. He picked up the knife that Monica had dropped on the steps and now wielded two matching blades.

  Nina looked past him down at the arena, hoping to see if Riley was okay. It wasn't a good sign that her opponent had moved on from her.

  “She's alive for now,” Mr. Nero said, as if reading her thoughts. “Just knocked out. I was going to finish her, but then I heard Miss Caligula making such a fuss up here. Losing her mask.”

  “Drop the roleplaying. Her name is Monica. And you can take that mask off,” Nina said calmly, motioning toward Monica. “Obviously there's no need for them anymore. You can stop hiding.”

  “Oh, I'm not hiding,” Mr. Nero said. “This is my face. My real face.”

  “No, it's not. It's Nero's. Just like this sword was Caesar's and not yours. You’re just trying to horde what came before and then pretend that it all belongs to you. None of it does, so you can't use them to launch some insane future you’ve planned.”

  “I'm getting very tired of you”

  “And I'm getting tired of that stupid mask. Disappointment abound, I guess. You three think that you’re going to be some big influence on the world. The almighty Third Triumvirate. Please...it's a bad joke. That's all it is. We’re the ones who are actually changing the world at large. We’re the Order of the Black Sun and we’re done playing pretend with you children.”

  Somehow, she could see through that stone-faced stare and she knew that she had broken through. Mr. Nero was scared. When she glanced at the unmasked Miss Caligula, there was extreme fear in her eyes, too. Maybe they were finally starting to realize that the Third Triumvirate was out of their depth? The Order of the Black Sun was far greater than their club could ever hope to be.

  If they wanted to restore Rome, then they’d have to extinguish the Black Sun, and that would be an impossible task for them.

  Nina lunged forward, with Caesar's sword held high in her frantic fist. She brought it down on a surprised Mr. Nero who just barely managed to put up and cross his two knives defensively. The sword smashed against the parry, but the force of the sudden strike knocked Mr. Nero backwards, off balance and tumbling down the audience steps. His limp was going to be much worse now.

  Monica suddenly appeared from behind her and grabbed Nina's wrist, shaking her about trying to pry Caesar's sword from her grip.

  “That sword is ours!” Monica hissed.

  “Like hell it is!” Nina snapped back.

  Nina almost lost hold of the hilt but refused to let go. They’d come too far to lose the sword now. She wasn't going to let these juvenile terrorists win. They thought she was in the way of the Third Triumvirate's plans, but the truth was that they couldn't be more wrong. The Third Triumvirate was stifling the Order of the Black Sun and Nina's secret society was going to run right through them.

  The two were entangled, each holding a wrist and keeping the other at bay. Monica started thrashing a leg out, kicking Nina. Monica was shrieking in frustration. Based on the blood lust in her eyes, Monica wanted Nina dead more than anything. She probably thought that if she killed Nina and took the sword, then all of her fantasies about a better Rome would come true. They wouldn't and it was time to knock some sense into her.

  Nina swung her head forward, letting it smash into Monica's nose. She could feel it squish down and knew she had broken it. Monica screeched as blood started spilling from her nostrils. Monica loosened her grasp of Nina's wrist just enough for Nina to pull away. Nina took the opportunity to run down the arena's steps. She wanted to regroup with the others.

  August was on his knees in the pit of the Hypogeum, looking like he was in a lot of pain. Mr. Commodus lay in a big heap beside him. Their fight must have been brutal since both of those enormous men were on the floor and seemingly unable to get up. He tried getting up but wobbled and then fell straight back down to the floor of the Colosseum. Nina leaped down from the stands and onto the arena floor, hoping to help August up, but Mr. Nero was back in the fight.

  Mr. Nero was between her and her friends, grinding the edges of his knives together threateningly. She looked back and saw Monica cupping her broken nose in her hands, though she wasn't stopping the blood from seeping out between her fingers. She was out of the fight for now. It was just the apparent ringleader of their three-person circus left.

  Unfortunately, her own group had dwindled down to just her it seemed. The two last contestants of this duel were her and Mr. Nero. She held the sword tightly in her grasp, still not sure if she could even win this.She and Mr. Nero closed in on one another, two opponents at the center of the Roman Colosseum. She could almost hear the cheers of the spectators, wanting to see some blood be shed for their amusement.

  Mr. Nero laughed from behind his mask and pointed his blade up to where the long-dead emperors used to watch from. In a big loud call, he roared out. “Ave Caesar! Morituri te salutant!”

  It was old Latin, but Nina knew exactly what it meant. It translated to, “Hail Caesar! We who are about to die, salute you!” It was the customary greeting that the gladiators would give to their ruler, almost promising him a good show. It was insulting that Mr. Nero was using it, not taking this fight seriously at all. Nina hated how confident he seemed and she especially hated that his cockiness was starting to actually rattle her thoughts a little.

  Nina pushed through her own doubts. She’d come this far and she was going to make it out of the Colosseum alive. So many strong and powerful men had died in this place, but she wouldn't be joining the ghosts of the gladiators. No, she would fight her way out and escape from the arena, no matter what it took.

  Nina pointed her sword up just like Mr. Nero had and addressed the invisible crowd. Instead of giving the customary introduction, she went for a much less traditional approach. “I hope you enjoy watching me kick this psychopath's ass!”

  Surprisingly, she felt herself get swept away in the power of the Colosseum. Even without an audience or an emperor watching her performance, Nina sensed a
surge of strength. This must have been how it felt for the gladiators coming out to fight for their lives in this place, at the center of a ring where nothing mattered but defeating your enemy. This was her first and probably only chance in her life to be a true Roman gladiator in the Colosseum.

  “Kick my ass?” Mr. Nero laughed and started walking toward her with his knives. “Is that the extent of your plan? This place isn't about kicking someone's ass. It's about taking someone's life. If you're not willing to do that, then you’ve already lost!”

  Nina let him approach and tightened her hold on the hilt of Caesar's sword. He was wrong. She was willing to kill him, and in this place, it felt like she was obligated to do. She didn't usually feel so much bloodlust but in the Colosseum, especially after what Mr. Nero had put her through, she had no qualms about defending herself. If that meant having to put this lunatic down for good, then that was exactly what she was going to do.

  Mr. Nero walked through the pit toward her and passed the pillars of the broken down Hypogeum. She glanced at her surroundings and realized all of the ruins around them would actually be helpful terrain in this fight and might even be enough to even the odds a bit. She took a breath, doing her best to stay calm despite the potential of being killed. If she died, at least she would go out swinging and fighting the Colosseum. She’d plummet in a place where countless warriors also fell. There was no shame in that.

  Mr. Nero was upon her before she knew it, and she managed to keep him back with a few swipes of her sword. She still had the longer reach with her weapon than he did. If she just kept him out of her radius, then he wouldn't be able to even get a hit in successfully. That was easier said than done, he was coming at her like a wild beast. Just like before, it was so hard to determine his moves with that mask on. She hoped to catch him a stray swing and break his mask off just like she had done to Monica. She wanted to see the face of the piece of garbage that had killed Santino and was trying so hard to kill her. Then, as morbid as it was, she wanted to see the life leave whatever face was under that mask. She wanted to know that he wouldn't be standing over her bed again in the middle of the night, making threats.