Hewitt opened his door as his car came to a flying stop. “FBI, get out of the way,” he shouted to a woman dressed in white packing equipment into an EMS truck. He pulled Dennis out of the Cadillac and carried him to a stretcher stationed outside the emergency vehicle.
“Step aside sir, we’ll handle this,” said the woman.
“Move,” Hewitt demanded as he brushed past her.
“Sir, stop, now,” she said, racing to catch up to him.
“Lady, you can either help or go back to your lunch break,” Hewitt said.
He laid Dennis on the stretcher and pushed him toward the door. “Open it,” he yelled.
He barreled past several people and into the emergency room. “I need a doctor,” Hewitt yelled.
“I’ll take it from here,” the woman said, grabbing the stretcher.
“It’s his side,” Hewitt said, opening the door to a hallway. “It’s his side, the right side. He’s bleeding badly.”
The paramedic raced him through another doorway and into a room at the far end. Hewitt pushed past two doctors.
“Sir, we’ll let you know how he is as soon as the doctor allows it,” the paramedic said. “There’s a waiting room. You need to go sit there.”
Hewitt retreated a few steps and looked down the hallway. He went back to the door’s window and watched as the doctor ripped open Dennis’ shirt, pressing paddles against his chest. He jerked up and down several times. “I hope he makes it,” Hewitt whispered.
The doctor shouted out instructions, and one nurse inserted a needle in Dennis’ arm, starting an IV, and placed an oxygen mask on his face. Two other nurses and a doctor grabbed the stretcher and quickly pushed Dennis through the door past Hewitt and on down the hall.
Running behind them, Hewitt said, “Is he going to make it? Is he?”
They wheeled him into an operating room where several masked nurses and technicians were waiting and then moved into action once he was positioned on the table.
Hewitt watched the medical team until the door clicked shut, obscuring his view. The thought crossed his mind that they almost looked like ants retrieving a big kill.
“Sir,” a nurse said as she approached him from behind, “this will likely take a while.”
Hewitt looked away, back down the hall.
“We’ll let you know his condition as soon as possible.”
Hewitt nodded, returned to the waiting room and left his business card with the nurse.
As he was leaving, he spotted the EMS workers finishing up packing the truck. “Could you tell how bad he was?” he asked, catching up to them as they were closing the back door.
“Don’t know,” said the man.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“What are his chances? Tell me. Tell me now. Do you want me to run you in?” Hewitt said, showing more edge while pulling out his badge.
The woman stepped between them. “Settle down, sir. Pushing people around won’t get you anywhere. It’s understandable you’re concerned about your friend, but you have two choices – sit in the waiting room or go home. It’s going to be a while before anyone knows anything. He’s in good hands. These doctors are among the best around. If he’s able to survive the blood loss, this is the best place for him.”
“If he survives?” Hewitt turned away, holding his head. “I need him alive.”
“Go take a break and get something to eat. Go relax with some friends.”
“I don’t need to eat. I need him to live.”
Soldiers snored, slumped against the walls across from the prison cells. “Look at these sorry men,” said Titus. “They hold their wine like women. They are not Romans.”
“Sir, are you sure this is the best time to take vengeance?” Michael asked. “I would like to continue celebrating with wine.”
Titus turned around on the stairway and pulled up the top iron of his helmet. “We have celebrated enough. You can walk away and show no courage if you wish.”
Michael shook his head. “I am with you, brother.”
Titus flashed his yellow teeth. His bottom lip and chin were stained from wine. “Let us do this for one of the greatest Roman soldiers.” He walked down the remaining steps, holding onto the walls to keep his balance.
Michael was tempted to kill Titus right then and there, but he knew it wasn’t a good strategy. He had no idea what he would do with the body or how he could explain what had happened if he were questioned. It might even prevent him from rescuing Leah and Elizabeth.
Michael let his spear scrape the ground a couple of times. He needed to come up with a better plan. He knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Titus if it was truly necessary. It might be the only way to save them all. Michael still wondered if it might not be better to do it now. The Romans were all drunk, making it easier to fight them. He might not be in the greatest shape, but he was certainly younger than any of them. All that was needed was a quick jab at Titus’ neck and there would be one fewer problem to worry about.
Michael raised his spear. If he was going to do it, he had to do it now.
Stop hesitating. Kill him. He’s a Roman. They deserve to die.
Titus turned around, and Michael withdrew his spear quickly. “May I ask you something, Titus?”
“What is it you wish to say?”
“When are they taking the man to Rome?”
“The one the crowd wanted to kill?”
“Yes, that one.”
“Why are you so interested in this man?” asked Titus.
Think.
“He is said to know where a treasure lies.”
“Treasure? What kind?”
Not a good response, Michael.
“Where there is silver and gold. I could have heard wrong. He talks strange.”
Titus shook his head. “No, soldier. You talk strange. I think we both should seek out this man who knows about this treasure you speak of.”
“Where are we going?” Michael asked.
Titus turned around and continued to walk without answering. They passed several cells and came upon Elizabeth and Leah. They stood as Titus opened the latch. “Come out,” he said.
Elizabeth quivered and shook her chains. “No. We aren’t going anywhere with you!” She bent over and held her head. “No. No more pain.”
“Are you all right?” Michael asked, running to her.
“Leave the crazy woman alone,” Titus said.
“Can’t you see she’s hurt?”
“My head. It’s pounding. I cannot take this anymore. Let me go home.”
Michael rubbed her back. “Elizabeth, what’s wrong? Tell me.”
“You know this woman?” Titus asked.
“He does not,” said Leah, standing in front of them. “He is concerned. He has a daughter like her.”
“How would you know?”
“He told me so.”
“I do not believe you.” He pushed Leah aside and glared at Michael.
“Is this woman your daughter?”
Michael pushed Elizabeth back behind him.
Now what? What do I say now?
“Answer me, soldier.”
Michael took a deep breath.
“You will die like Marcus, Roman,” Elizabeth said.
Titus took a step toward Elizabeth, and Michael put his spear to his neck. “Move away,” he said.
“Are you threatening me?”
“Yes.”
Titus moved to attack and Michael defended. “I would gladly go to hell to make sure you could never hurt my daughter.”
“We can both go to hell and continue our battle there,” Titus said.
Elizabeth stepped forward. “Marcus said you killed innocent women and children while on duty during the high holy days. You took their lives and their money. He said you deserve to die like him.”
Titus lifted his spear higher and sneered. “How do you know that?”
“He told me.”
“He would not say such words to someone like you. Your tongue breathes fire, and I will kill you here.” He backed up and straightened out his spear.
Michael raised his own spear higher and felt a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. “Get your hands off of me. Stay behind me, Elizabeth. Leah, move over to the right.”
“I am behind you,” she said.
“You cannot protect both,” Titus said. He swung and struck Leah in the leg. She fell to the ground.
“Dad, she’s pregnant.”
“My God.”
Titus snickered. “Two times the pleasure now.” He swung as Michael defended her with his spear. The weapons clanged together.
“I do not want to kill you,” Michael said as he grimaced. “I do not believe in killing.”
“I do,” Titus said, and he pushed him back with a short thrust.
Titus retreated a step and then quickly struck Michael. He winced and saw blood dripping from the side of his leg.
Titus lunged at Leah. “No,” she screamed, holding her stomach.
Michael flung his spear, piercing Titus in the side.
Titus grunted. His spear fell to the ground, and he grabbed his abdomen. He gagged, uttering some inaudible words.
Michael dropped to his knees. “No one and I mean
no one
touches my daughter.”
Michael tried to lift Titus up. “He is too heavy for me,” he said, dropping the body to the ground. “Grab his legs,” he said to Elizabeth.
“Where are we going to put him?” she asked.
“Just follow me.” He looked at Leah. “Are you able to walk?”
She nodded.
They walked slowly down the corridor, past the drunken, sleeping soldiers, carrying Titus about a foot off the ground. When they reached the top, Michael rested and Elizabeth dropped his legs.
“Okay, we need to move him over there,” he said, pointing to the far end of the courtyard. A lone casket stood upon a stanchion. Michael opened it and glanced only a brief moment at Marcus dressed in his Roman red colors and steel-plated armor. His hands held a red-tipped stained spear.
“It doesn’t even look like him,” said Elizabeth, looking in. “Are we sure it’s him?”
“Yes. They can tell by the scars on his body,” Michael said. He turned to Leah. “I believe there’s the one you gave him.” He pointed to the wide mark near his heart.
“It does not look like the man I killed.”
“Believe me, it is him,” Michael replied.
The sea had ravaged his face and arms.
“Help me with him,” he said. Titus moaned as they dragged him over to the casket. Michael rested for a brief moment. “He’s going to be heavy to lift.”
“We should make sure he dies,” Elizabeth said.
“No. Why?”
“Marcus said he should die like he did.”
“You were dreaming,” Michael said. “No one can talk to the dead.”
“I was not dreaming. I know the difference between dreaming and reality.” Elizabeth glared.
“Look, I don’t have time to deal with your moods right now,” he said, glancing around the courtyard to see if any other Romans were near. He leaned over the wall to see how many guards were near the front gate. He noticed Aharon several feet away, bending down by a bush, holding a torch.
He went back to the casket. “On the count of three we lift and drop him in the box. Got it?”
Elizabeth stared. “I understand.”
“Good.” He took a deep breath. “One, two, three.” Thump. Titus groaned.
Michael heard a commotion below and returned to the wall. There were several Romans leaving their post near the front gate. He could see Aharon waving his torch.
“Help Leah get to her husband. He is near the front gate, behind the brush to the right as you come out.”
“Where should I meet you?”
“Ask Aharon to take you to the fruit stand with the watermelons on the sides.”
“We are going home?”
He nodded. “Go now. I will be there shortly.” Michael watched Elizabeth help Leah down the stairs. He looked over the wall and gestured to Aharon to look for them. Michael was relieved when he saw Aharon, Leah and Elizabeth meet up a few minutes later.
He grabbed the coffin lid and placed it over Titus and Marcus. Michael could still see Titus breathing, his eyes glassy.
“I will chase you down.”
“It will not be today,” Michael said as he nailed it shut by pounding four small spikes with the bottom of his spear. He took the tip of the weapon and carved three holes into the wooden frame where Titus’ head was. He pressed his right eye to the opening and was satisfied with his work.
It was good enough.
Now what
, he wondered. Was he really going to leave him here? Michael knew if he escaped, Titus would surely come after him. Perhaps he should have killed him before. Of course, he could still kill him now.
Michael peeked through the small hole again and looked at Titus, staring in his menacing eyes. He knew Titus deserved to die, just like Marcus. From what he had seen, every single one of the Romans was the same. All they seemed to care about was oppressing, raping and killing. He had never observed any of them give a thought to the suffering they caused.
He pulled up a spike and started to lift the lid off with his spear. He stopped suddenly, wondering what in the world he was doing. Was he about to take a life? It would be first-degree murder in any century. He was shocked he was even considering it. What was going on in his head? He would never have thought like this in the past. Was he going to let this Roman darken his heart? What kind of effect was this world having on him?
Michael muttered, “I hate this world!” He shoved the last spike back into the corner and dragged the box under a small covering, out of view. Racing over to the wall, he stood on his toes and looked down. He saw Aharon, Elizabeth and Leah moving toward the city wall. They turned and looked up at him. He waved frantically and motioned for them to go farther. Elizabeth hesitated, turning several times to look at Michael. He gestured each time to keep moving.
When he saw they were safe, he returned to the stairway and mapped out a plan of action. He’d stay calm and continue to act like one of the Roman soldiers. He must find a way out of the fortress, meet the others by the fruit stand, and leave.
Two soldiers were rising, stumbling around. Four more had stripped down and were heading out the front gate.
Perfect.
He followed the group of six and took off his helmet like the rest. He groaned and rubbed his head. “What a night of celebration.”
“Has any man seen Titus?” a soldier asked.
They all shook their heads.
“Odd,” the soldier said. “He is supposed to give us our silver for grabbing the Jew widow.” He took a couple of steps back toward the front gate. “I am not getting cheated out of my silver.”
“I will join you,” another soldier said, putting his helmet back on.
One soldier glanced at him, fell to his knees and vomited. The remaining men moved toward the baths. Michael walked past the soldier and pushed his face into the dirt. “Best you stay down there for a while,” he said.
“Ugh,” the soldier said, coughing up some mud.
“Consider it breakfast in bed.” He pushed the Roman back into the wet mess again. “There’s your dessert.”
He watched the men remove their clothes and walk down into the baths.
I’d better move as soon as possible.
Michael walked to the last one at the far end of the facility. He waited until every other Roman had submerged in the water. Since no one was paying attention to him, he removed his armor. He squinted and looked up at the top of the Antonia Fortress.
There was still some darkness on the horizon. He squinted again and didn’t see anyone
.
He caressed his chain and cross and tucked it inside his shirt.
Now is the time to go.
He made his way inside the city wall. He came upon a lone man organizing some fruit on a stand. “Sir,” Michael said, “I am to meet my family here. Have you seen two women and a man?”
The man put the melons down and came out from behind the stand. “They were taken away by some soldiers.”
“Where?”
“The soldiers spoke amongst themselves.”
“What did they say?”
The man didn’t respond.
Michael pulled out some silver and showed him. “Tell me, or I will throw every melon on the ground.”
“You risk much in threatening me.”
Michael picked up two melons.
“Stop,” the man said. “They are taking them to Rome.”
Panic seized Michael. He swatted a lone melon sitting atop a wooden counter, and it broke into several pieces. The man grabbed at his hand.
“Take your silver,” Michael said, placing it on the counter. “Where do they ship from?”
“Caesarea. You must move and do not waste any steps,” the man said.
It’s not like I have a GPS available
, Michael thought. “How do I get to Caesarea?” he asked the man.
“Follow the smell of the sea. The city is not far from there. You will know when you get there. It is not like here. It is big and beautiful.”
Michael became dizzy and grabbed onto the ledge of the stand.
“Are you ill, sir?” the man asked.
“Do you know the fastest way to Caesarea? My daughter was taken. I need to get my daughter home now.”
The man returned his money. “You will need this to get your family back,” he said. “Silver is your greatest weapon with the Romans.”
“Thank you.”
As he began walking, he noticed the sun was almost up. Michael was hopeful he would be able to spot them easier with the help of the additional light. He passed the aqueduct and saw eight Romans scouring the neighborhood. Michael hid behind a well, the same one where he aided Leah when she was sick. He scooped some water out of a bucket and splashed it on his face. Peering around the well, he saw two Romans were pilfering Leah’s house.
He waited until he saw the Romans go upstairs and then made his way to Abel’s home. “I need your help. The Romans took my daughter, Leah and Aharon. They are to be taken to Caesarea.”
“I will take you halfway there.” Abel gathered up a couple of weapons, put some bread in a pouch and then tied it around his waist. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as one can be.”
Abel stepped outside his home but held up his hand when he noticed a Roman soldier shouting at a man herding sheep in his front yard. Abel turned to Michael and quietly said, “Come this way.”
Michael quickly followed him behind his home.
“This is the only safe path,” Abel said. “It is rough in some areas. There are not many travelers going this way.”
“Mountains?”
Abel shook his head. “The wind off the sea.” He handed Michael a piece of ripped cloth. “You will need this to cover your face.”