The Last Roman (The Praetorian Series - Book I)

  ***

  My two companions were dourly silent as we drove through the lush Italian countryside, so I had little to do besides look off into the distance and admire the view as my mind roiled with thoughts of our broken world. The land here was so rich with history that every hill had a story and every road a tale to tell. I’d been studying Italian and Roman history ever since my mom had made me take Latin back in high school, so I knew many of those stories.

  I’d enjoyed the subject so much that I’d continued my studies during college and had even begun work on a Master’s Degree in Classical Studies before being pulled into the Navy. I was never sure why I’d grown so passionate about the subject, and had never really sat down to determine what kind of career I’d make out of it. It had been a serious point of contention in my family, especially since my darling sister had had her future perfectly mapped out since middle school.

  By the time we reached the outskirts of Rome, I retrieved my camera from my bag and started taking pictures of whatever caught my eye. A semester of photography in college and years of field recon ops gave me a solid eye for picking out ideal shots. Most of Rome was left unscathed by the countless battles that plagued Eastern Europe, but it had still caught some flak over the years and a few burnt buildings scattered at random reflected the sad reality of the age we lived in.

  It wasn’t long before Reynolds noticed my interest.

  “Sightseeing, Lieutenant Commander?”

  “Yes sir,” I answered immediately. “I’ve always wanted to visit Rome. I only wish it was under different circumstances.”

  Reynolds nodded but said nothing, and the car continued to roll through the sprawling ancient city, driving slowly through the narrow, cobbled streets of both modern and old form. I was busy photographing the remains of the Circus Maximus when Father Vincent abruptly pulled into a seemingly random building. A few meters inside, the floor began to slope drastically downward, plunging us into darkness.

  “Where exactly are we going?” I asked suspiciously.

  “You are a student of history,” Father Vincent replied, his eyes locked on the dimly illuminated road. “What lies beneath most cities the age of Rome?”

  I knew that over time, cities as old as Rome simply built over existing parts of the original city. When new buildings were constructed, old ones would simply be filled in with dirt and built over, one of the main reasons why new discoveries in ancient cities were constantly being discovered.

  “You’ve discovered some ancient ruins beneath the city and have renovated them to provide an underground tunnel system.”

  “You are correct. Vast areas of the ancient city beneath and around the Vatican were uncovered ages ago. Most were left alone, but some have been converted into subterranean roads we now use to gain unnoticed access in and out of the Vatican. Very few know of their existence.”

  Not a bad idea, and not that surprising, to tell the truth. It wasn’t like we were going to drive our secret car traveling on a secret mission through the front door. Governments always had secret lairs few knew about, and being the smallest sovereign governing body on the planet, the Vatican would be missing a prime opportunity to expand if they didn’t.

  Even with what I assumed was a vast network of secret tunnels, it wasn’t long before the dark, narrow corridor came to an abrupt end. We emerged into a larger room shaped like a cul-de-sac, with an elevator opposite the entrance. Parking the car, Father Vincent stepped out and started toward the elevator. I grabbed my bag and followed.

  “You coming, sir?” I asked Reynolds, noticing he was staying with the car.

  “This is the end of the road for me, son. My orders were to escort you here and report back to the President that your transfer was completed. Hell, I’m not even Catholic. I’m not sure I’m even allowed to be down here. Anyway, you take care of yourself, Commander. You’re representing your county on this one. Don’t let us down.”

  “I won’t, sir,” I replied, snapping a crisp salute. “Thank you.”

  “You’ll be fine,” replied Reynolds, returning the salute. “Just keep your head down and do us proud.”

  “Come,” Father Vincent said quietly from the elevator. “His Holiness is waiting.”

  I nodded, slowly turning toward the waiting elevator. With one last glance over my shoulder at the retreating black car, I knew things were never going to be the same again.