James Acton 01 - The Protocol (18 page)

Acton nodded. “A shower sounds great.” He sighed then took an exaggerated sniff of his armpit. “I think I need one!” Laura laughed and playfully slapped him on the shoulder.

“Go clean up, stinky, and I’ll order some food. Anything in particular you’d like?”

“If they’ve got a good moo shu pork I’ll take that, otherwise anything is fine, as long as there’s some meat in it,” he said as he got up. “If it’s all vegetables I’ll just be hungry again in half an hour.”

Triarii Headquarters, London, England

“Yes, the operation was carried out by his forces.”

The disembodied voice coming over the speakerphone would have been chilling if he didn’t know who he was talking to. The subterfuge was necessary however, as not all at the council table knew who was speaking, and if there were any uninvited listeners, their contact’s safety was paramount.

“What are his intentions?” asked the Proconsul.

“I believe he intends to bring the skulls together.”

“If that is his intention, he may need to be dealt with.”

“I understand.”

“We will speak again.” The Proconsul severed the connection.

“You do realize who you’re talking about killing don’t you?” asked the Paris member.

“Anyone who gets in our way is forfeit if necessary.”

Laura Palmer’s Flat, London, England

Acton emerged from the shower and saw fresh clothes laid out for him.
Definitely not her style.
He put them on and they fit surprisingly well. After admiring himself in the mirror for a minute he exited to find Laura at the door paying for the food. He quickly stepped back so the delivery boy wouldn’t see his face. When the door closed he rounded the corner and met her in the kitchen.

“Well, don’t you look better!” Laura leaned in and sniffed. “Smell better, too!”

Acton laughed and looked around. “How can I help?”

“Go sit in the living room, I’ll take care of it.”

Acton headed to the living room and took the same seat on the couch. He was still exhausted, but clean. “Whose clothes are these?”

“They were my brother’s,” she said as she appeared around the corner. “He lived with me a few years ago.”

“Where is he now?”

“He died three years ago when we were on a dig in Jordan,” she answered as she put the food down on the table and took a seat across from Acton.

“I’m terribly sorry,” said Acton. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” she said. “There was a cave in, he was killed instantly.” She finished setting up the food and continued. “About a year ago I finally boxed up his stuff, but could never bring myself to donate it to charity.”

Acton nodded. “It’s tough to lose someone you love, especially under tragic circumstances.”

Laura shook her head for a moment. “Okay, enough talk, let’s eat and try to figure out what to do next.”

Acton agreed and took a taste of the moo shu.
Soooo good. But raw cow would probably taste good right about now.

New Scotland Yard

“We’re looking for this man,” said Jasper as he handed over a folder, Chief Inspector Manning finally seeing them after several hours of waiting. “His name is James Acton and he arrived from New York today.”

Manning opened the folder and put his glasses on. “Acton, eh? That sounds familiar for some reason.”

“Our office would have already sent you the name earlier,” offered Lambert.

“No, that’s not it. Just a moment.” Manning rose and left the office. Jasper watched as the door closed behind him.
Now what?
He was getting frustrated. And tired. The coffee wasn’t helping anymore.

A few minutes later the door opened and Manning entered, frowning as he handed a file over to Jasper. “I knew the name sounded familiar.”

“What’s this?” asked Jasper as he opened the file. Lambert leaned in to look as well. It contained an Interpol printout of Acton.

“We just ID’d him from some footage taken at a hotel,” explained Manning. “He’s wanted for questioning in regards to a murder that took place, today.”

“Murder?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact the DCI in charge of the case is here now. I’ll put you in his office and have him come see you right away.”

Jasper nodded his thanks as he tried to process this new information.
Murder? Could he have been involved in those deaths in Peru?

“Okay, one of the people looking for our John Doe character was topped tonight, in a gangland style shooting with six of his mates?” asked Reading.

“That’s what it looks like,” confirmed the coroner.

At that moment the doors to the crypt swung open.

“There was nothing gangland style about this shooting, gentlemen,” said the young man who came through the doors. DI Nelson was rising quickly through the ranks and Reading could tell just by looking at him he wasn't pleased about losing the case.
It's not all about credit, lad.
Nelson handed Reading a folder. “As you can see from these stills from the security cameras, this was a professional hit.”

Reading opened the folder and flipped through the pictures as Chaney looked over his shoulder. “I’ll need to see the video.”

“No problem, guv, if you’ll come with me I’ll bring you up to speed.” He headed toward the doors with Reading and Chaney following.

Acton was half lying, half sitting on the couch, his breathing heavy with deep sleep. Laura emerged from washing up the dishes and smiled. She put a blanket over him then started skimming through the books she had taken from her office. Something she had read at one point over the years nagged at the back of her mind. Something that hadn’t seemed important at the time, but now, put in context, seemed incredibly important.
If only I could remember what it was!

Reading, Chaney and Nelson huddled around a view screen. The video playing before them was both brief and shocking. It showed a white cube van enter the frame from the left then get cut off by an oncoming SUV. Four men with automatic weapons jumped out of the SUV and killed the driver, then took up covering positions as a second SUV entered the frame from the left, behind the cube van. Four men exited, three setting up position at the doors as the fourth placed something on the back door and hurriedly moved to the side of the truck, out of view.

There was a flash and the doors swung open. Immediately the three men opened fire for about ten seconds. When they stopped firing, the one in the middle climbed into the back of the truck and exited a few seconds later carrying a black bag. All eight men jumped into their vehicles and left in opposite directions. The cube van was left sitting in the middle of the frame.

“Were you able to pull any faces off this?” asked Reading.

“No, guv. They were all wearing balaclavas,” replied Nelson. “Numbers were obscured, but I doubt they would have led anywhere.”

“Have you tracked them?” asked Chaney.

“We’re in the process. We’re also tracking back the cube van to see where it came from. You’ll want to see this.” He motioned to a table behind them. On it were laid out body armor, weapons, night-vision equipment, cell phones, radio headgear and much more.

“Looks like they weren’t so innocent,” commented Chaney. “Were they on their way to a hit and got hit themselves?”

“Like I said before, the blokes in the four-by-four’s were pros. You can tell by the way they took up their positions. It was done with military precision. The victims were equipped as well as any military unit I’ve ever seen so I don’t know what the hell is going on,” explained Nelson. “And look at this,” he said, picking up one of the guns. He removed the magazine, ejected one of the bullets and handed it to Reading.

“What is this?” asked Reading as he held up the bullet. It actually looked more like a needle.

“Tranquilizer dart. All of them were armed with these; they had no live rounds on them. These blokes weren’t killers.”

“Their enemies certainly were.” Reading handed the dart back to Nelson who returned it to the table. “Any gangland tats or other markings on the victims?”

“They all had this tattoo on their inner left wrist,” replied Nelson, handing them a photo of a tattoo on one of the victim’s hands. “It’s actually very small, about half an inch wide.” The tattoo was two horizontal short lines with a thicker, slightly wider third line, curving upward.

Reading looked at the photo.
I’ve seen this somewhere before.

“Have you run it through the database?” asked Chaney.

“Yes, nothing.”

“Any ID?”

“We’re running their faces through all of our databases, hopefully have something by the end of the day,” said Nelson. “Oh, that reminds me. Upstairs asked me to give this to you.” He reached into his stack of folders and pulled one with Reading’s name on it. “They were delivering it to the morgue the same time I got there so I said I’d give it to you.” He handed the file over to Reading. “Apparently there’s two Yanks here who want to talk to you about him, as well. They waited for the Chief for several hours and now he’s handed them off to you.”

When Reading flipped it open, he found the complete Interpol file on one Professor James Edward Acton. Reading smiled.
Now I know who you are.

Laura Palmer’s Flat, London, England

Acton woke with a start. He looked at his watch and was surprised at how early it was until he realized he had forgotten to set it to local time. He looked for a clock.
12:45 a.m
.

“Have a good sleep?” Laura sat on a chair across from him, reading one of her books, a single lamp on an end-table providing the only light.

Acton stretched and nodded. “Yeah, thanks. How long was I out?”

“Just a few hours. You really should take the spare bedroom and get some rest. This will wait until morning.”

Acton shook his head. “No, I’m fine, and besides, I don’t think they’re waiting.”

She nodded. “I think I may know who
they
are.”

Acton leaned forward, suddenly fully alert. “What have you found?”

“I’ve been going through these books. I knew there was something in one of them that I just couldn’t remember and it was driving me nuts. And I think I’ve found it.” She opened one of the books to a page she had marked and handed it to Acton. “Last paragraph on the left.”

Acton read the passage:

Many ancient relics that were deemed to have power handed down by God or a pagan god have had groups organize as a result that either worshipped the item or swore to protect it. One obvious example is the Holy Grail, apparently protected by the Knights Templar. The Crystal Skulls were no different. It has been documented that over two thousand years ago, Emperor Nero assigned a legion of his best troops to protect what was described as the Oracle of Jupiter. Discovered in what is now modern day Israel, it was delivered to the Emperor as a gift. Nero became obsessed with the skull and believed it was communicating with him. He was convinced it was the voice of the most powerful Roman god, Jupiter. Nero ordered the Thirteenth Legion to take the skull as far away from Rome as possible and to guard it with their lives. It is thought this Thirteenth Legion fought its way north, trying to reach modern day England, the furthest the Empire’s domain had reached. During this struggle, most of the front line and second line troops were lost. The third and most experienced line, the Triarii, is said to have disappeared, never to be seen again. Rumors of their existence persist to this day however, with some believing they did reach their ultimate destination and settled anonymously in England, their descendants now fulfilling their ancient promise.

Acton closed the book and sat back in his chair, fascinated.

“Do you really think that the people after me today could be descendants of a two-thousand-year-old Roman legion?”

“I know it sounds fantastic, but think about it. How long have the Masons been around, the Knights Templar, the Illuminati, the Catholic Church for that matter? All are organizations created around a central theme that have sustained them for centuries if not millennia.

“This skull was believed to be handed down from the gods. Just the belief that something has divine powers is an extreme motivator. If a grilled cheese sandwich that looks like the Virgin Mary can sell for $34,000 on eBay, then imagine the influence a crystal skull that your Emperor has told you spoke to him, could have.

“Then imagine that more started to show up over the generations. As each one appeared, it would only serve to renew your faith. Even here in England to this day there are Druids and others that worship Pagan gods. Monotheistic religion has not taken complete control.”

Acton let out a deep breath, trying to fathom what Laura was saying.

“It’s incredible to think that people could worship something for so long, but then again, we’ve seen it time and again throughout history, especially among primitive societies. I guess it’s not that much of a stretch for people of two thousand years ago to believe that this was sent by God and then to indoctrinate their descendants with the same beliefs.”

“Yes, and if they are indeed here, today, their original mission of protecting the Oracle of Jupiter may have expanded to include all of the skulls,” continued Laura. “They must think that you are some kind of threat to them because you found a skull that appears to have been missing for over seven hundred years.”

“I don’t understand, though, why so many people have to die because of it?” said Acton, thinking of the last text message from his friend. “So many have died that someone has to pay. Two-thousand-year-old cult or not, they need to be brought down before others get hurt.”

Laura’s face grew concerned. “How do you think you can single-handedly take down an organization that has lasted over sixty generations? It could be huge.”

“Every snake has a head,” said Acton. “Cut off the head, and the body dies. If I remember my Roman history, the Triarii were the third and final line of defense in a legion. They were the most seasoned, experienced troops, and there were only a small number of them. If they’ve kept the same structure, there may only be a dozen or so of them at the top, with the rest just underlings with no real power or knowledge. Wipe out the Triarii and everything stops.”