Читать книгу The Lost Knights - William Speir - Страница 13

Present Day – Musselburgh, East Lothian

Near Edinburgh, Scotland

The 15th Century castle near Old Craighall in Musselburgh was a well-secluded, stately manor house/castle with immense grounds and high walls surrounding the property. No one driving past the gates would imagine that the headquarters of Il Nona was in a large complex underneath the castle.

The small building near the castle was the main entrance to Il Nona’s offices, which included an ancient mithraeum, but there was another entrance to the underground complex from the castle. The corridor between the entrance from the castle and the Legate’s office and the mithraeum were lined with displays behind protective glass. Included in these displays were the Aquila, Vexilla, Signum, and Imago of the Ninth Roman Legion and each Cohort – carefully preserved for almost two thousand years by the descendants of the Third Cohort.

The current Legate of Il Nona was a man named Gaius Valerius Constantine, and he was a direct descendent of the Tribune who had commanded the Third Cohort centuries earlier. He was tall, fit, and quite handsome in a rugged way that many women liked. He didn’t have any of the Roman features of his illustrious ancestor, but he was definitely a son of the original Gaius Valerius. He was a tactical genius, as well as a pragmatic businessman. He held degrees in law and international business, but the science and business of war were his specialties. He saw it as his business to do three simple things: provide fighters, train fighters, and arm fighters. He was very good at his business.

As the Legate, the castle was Constantine’s personal residence, and there were dozens of members of Il Nona who also lived and worked on the estate. A number of buildings on the estate served as residences, workshops, and training facilities for Il Nona and its clients. The estate had been designed to make it difficult for anyone outside to see what was going on inside. The ancient trees on the estate helped to hide activities from satellites overhead, as well as the occasional commercial or military aircraft.

Constantine walked to his office past the glass cases protecting the emblems of the Ninth Legion. Reports were coming in from all over Europe. He had guessed correctly. The current initiative had almost unlimited financial potential for long-term business. Il Nona would supply both sides of the conflict with arms and training, and then for years to come they’d watch the orders pour in for replacement arms and training. Il Nona would provide no soldiers in this conflict; this initiative was about goading people into a war, not helping one side win a war.

The Islamic communities springing up near every major city in Europe were becoming a source of concern among the local populations. The Muslim communities demanded to be governed by Sharia, or Islamic Law, rather than the local and national laws of Europe. This was creating “countries within countries” and causing violence on both sides of the issue. The Muslims, understandably, wanted to protect their culture and their property. The local populations were concerned that the Muslim communities were positioning themselves for a jihad across Europe to turn Europe into a Muslim state.

Constantine didn’t really care about the reasons why the Muslim communities had begun springing up everywhere. He saw it as an opportunity. It didn’t matter if the Muslims were jihadists in disguise or simply refugees from their own war-torn countries looking for a better life. Their presence made their non-Muslim neighbors nervous, and that was good for business.

Il Nona would supply arms and training to the Muslims across Europe so they could defend their culture and property more effectively. And once the local population saw that their Muslim neighbors were well armed and trained, Il Nona would provide arms and training to the non-Muslims so they could more effectively defend their culture and property against the feared jihad. All Il Nona had to do was create a situation where the first shot was fired, which would help validate the fears on both sides and ignite Europe like a powder keg. Muslims and non-Muslims would fight and kill each other out of panic and rage, creating the ongoing demand for more arms and more training. Even if one side eventually won in one community, the conflict could potentially continue across Europe for generations. Both sides would turn to Il Nona for help, and Il Nona would be there.

It was a simple and beautiful plan to Constantine. He felt no guilt about the potential loss of life. This was business. Il Nona had ignited conflicts before in order to secure long-term revenue, and this was just another opportunity to do so. A few people would die, but Il Nona would make money and create a completely new demand for its products and services. What could be better?

Constantine sat down at his desk and checked his calendar for the day. A soft knock at the door made him look up, and he smiled as he saw his second-in-command, the Prefect Tina Juliana who happened to be a descendent of Titus Aurelius. She was a striking woman, whose beauty and sensuality masked a true warrior who was trained to kill and had no issues with putting her training to use. She also had a natural ability for sales, and she handled most of the arms deals for Il Nona. He motioned for her to enter, and she sat down in front of him, crossing her legs seductively before leaning forward and looking Constantine directly in his eyes.

“How’s business?” he asked. He always started business conversations with Juliana that way, and he tried to hide his smile at her attempts to distract him. However, when they were alone together outside the office, his conversations with her were of a very different nature.

“We had an interesting development in France last night,” Juliana replied. “A shipment of arms was being delivered to a client outside of Paris when it was discovered that someone was watching. It turns out there was a whole team of people watching. The local Centuria captured them and took them to a safe house, but so far they’re not talking.”

“How many people were caught?” Constantine asked, frowning slightly at this news.

“Twelve altogether. The Centuria might have missed one, but they aren’t sure.”

“And captives have said nothing?”

“Not yet.”

“And the usual methods are being used?”

“Yes, but all they got was gibberish from one woman just before she passed out.”

“What did she say?”

“She said: ‘the knights of the saltire.’”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing. Not from any of them.”

“Any idea what it means?”

“None, but the Centurion’s still looking into it. They’re clearly not connected with any government agency, but what they were doing there and who they work for is still unknown. The interrogations will continue, and I’ll let you know what we find out,” she said. As she stood to leave the office, she slowly ran her hands down her waist and hips to smooth the wrinkles from her dress, smiling suggestively at Constantine.

“Very well. Thanks for the update,” he said, pretending not to notice her attempts at seduction, “and keep me posted on any new developments. We have a sizeable investment tied up in this initiative, and we can’t afford to have anything go wrong at this point.”

“Understood, sir.”

He watched her leave his office, admiring the view as she walked away. He could still detect her scent on him from the night before, and he allowed himself a grin as he thought about how skillful she was at other arts besides just warfare.

He thought back to the words uttered by the prisoner before passing out. Knights of the Saltire. Must have been delirious. He shook his head and picked up a report on his desk and started reading.