The Last Roman (Praetorian Series - Book One) by Edward Crichton

Author:Edward Crichton
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: military, history, time travel, rome, roman, legion, special forces, ancient rome, navy seal, caesar, ancient artifacts, praetorian guard

VIII

Betrayal

Rome, Italy

November, 37 A.D.

“Three hundred men!? Against two thousand?!” I shouted. “Have you people no sense of loyalty? There’s no way we can hold out against that many, especially when they’re aided by a mob of…”

Vincent motioned for me to calm down. “Settle down, Hunter. You’re not helping. Centurion, give me your strategic appraisal of the situation. Where are the remaining cohorts?”

“Two are on a training detail in the south, three are occupied on courier missions, and the remaining two are split up protecting various imperial family members, scattered throughout Italy.”

“Shouldn’t there be three cohorts in Rome?” Vincent asked.

Quintilius shrugged. “There was, but we have been busy and we didn’t plan our training schedule properly. We’re stretched thin.”

I scoffed, completely flabbergasted at the entire situation.

Vincent’s look told me to shut up. “What about your tactical assessment, Centurion?”

Quintilius wasted no time thinking it over. “We can hold out here for a while. I’ve called for the rest of my century to get here as soon as they can. I am unaware as to the situation of the other cohorts outside the city, but we cannot count on their help tonight. I will post a maniple of men in the courtyard, with a century in reserve. Our reinforcements will take up positions in the halls.”

That would put just under two hundred men outside, with another eighty behind them, and the remaining century in the house.

“With your permission,” he continued, “I would ask you to remain here, and provide support for my men. Hopefully, we will be able to inflict enough casualties to make them rethink their position, and have them disperse. Even two thousand men will have trouble taking this position, especially with your help.” He paused, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. “I know of your abilities, but am uncertain of your tactics. What exactly can you do for us?”

“First of all, tell your men not to attack mine, they will be leaving the house for a few minutes.”

He nodded, sending Marcus to inform the men outside.

“Santino, Bordeaux, get over here.”

The two men complied, stopping before Vincent at attention.

“Santino, gather up all the remaining claymores we have, and plant them along the streets the mob will most likely be using. Set them up at intervals so that they don’t all go off at once.”

The man saluted, and went off to collect his charges.

“Bordeaux, do I even need to ask if you brought plenty of explosives?”

“Non.”

“Good. Line the hallways with C-4. Not a lot, we don’t want to collapse the house, but enough to put some serious dents in the enemy’s lines should they make it inside. Place additional charges outside along the interior of the courtyard.”

Bordeaux nodded, and went to work.

“What are you having them do?” Quintilius asked.

“You were at our demonstration. Remember the column?”

Quintilius’ face immediately brightened, a shred of hope emerging.

“Tell your men to not wander far from the house, and make sure you redirect your remaining ones to arrive from the rear.”

That would be difficult. The back of the house was a steep hill, perfect for Helena’s sniper perch, but not for a reinforcing army.

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