Ironically, Agrippina’s strategy mirrored that of the blitzkrieg, developed by more modern Germans a half century before I was born in the original timeline. It called for a massive invasion force to simply push hard and fast in the direction it wanted to go, smashing everything in its way, striking so precisely and swiftly that the enemy had no chance to counterattack.
That might have worked for Hitler, the douche that started our second world war, but he had access to tanks, trucks and planes, vehicles that could move far quicker than any Roman. Plus, he had a well-established infrastructure already in place to help logistically supply and feed the massive army that had exploded out of Germany in a manner of weeks. The Romans had no such infrastructure to work with. Germany was a hinterland for all intents and purposes, and Agrippina’s blitzkrieg went against almost every rule in the Roman playbook.
A legion’s strength did not come from the flexibility and discipline of its fighting men alone, but in their logistical genius as well. Romans built roads, constructed farms, erected forts — created infrastructure — as they campaigned both slowly and deliberately. Legions could move quicker than any other infantry based army in history, but they were also methodical. As they traveled, the land they walked on inherently became “Roman.” They were always ready to receive reinforcements, supplies and dispatches from Rome itself, because they protected their asses.
Agrippina made no such preparations, and I had no idea why generals like Vespasian or Galba hadn’t challenged her decision making. Probably because they feared her three cohorts of Praetorians, not to mention the Sacred Band (which never left her side). They could overwhelm Agrippina’s small bodyguard unit if they wanted to with the help of their entire legion… but it would cost them more than they’d want.
Maybe even their own lives.
I’d offer more on the campaign, but we only have sketchy information at this point, and no details pertaining to the battles themselves. I just wanted to point out how important it is to draw Agrippina away from the legions and let men like Vespasian and Galba take over. I wasn’t sure how to do that, but I had a hunch that if we were to go after one of her precious orb’s she might have something to say about it.
So, we needed the orb, and that’s where Gaius and Marcus come in. Over the past few weeks, we’ve had intermittent contact with them via a series of dead drops we’ve established throughout the city. Their dispatches assure us that they’re close to locating the seller of the orb. Once they do, they’ll let us know and we’ll go from there. Hopefully, we can just buy it, but something tells me it won’t be that easy.
Oh, I guess I should also mention Helena and I are finally… finally… back to normal. More or less. We… made up a few weeks ago, and she’s become a wonderful stress reliever. On another positive note, she hasn’t lost an ounce of that craziness she brings with her to the bed…
What the hell am I doing?
Go read a romance novel.
As I put down my pen, I promised myself that was the last time I ever mentioned Helena and I in the journal. The thing was supposed to be a historical record of what was happening with us in case we never make it home, not a novel, and hopefully, once I got more details on the orb itself, it will become a technical manual for how the troublesome thing works. With some luck, if someone finds both manual and orb should we be unable to destroy it, they’ll be smart enough to leave it well enough alone and get rid of it.
Still, it was probably nice to give it a more personal touch — make it more interesting for the ladies. They loved a good romance story. I wasn’t quite sure if what Helena and I had was “good” or not, but I, at least, thought it was special. Besides, if we let Santino write the whole thing, we’d run the risk of alienating anyone above a fourth grade reading level and I still wanted a movie deal out of the whole thing.
Closing the journal yet again, I secured it and tossed it to Helena. She was sitting on our bed, keeping herself busy with something while I’d been writing at the table. Santino sat opposite me, balancing his knife on a fingernail. I watched him flip it in the air and catch it by its grip.
We were bored.
After our run in with our black clad nemeses, the three of us had limited our time outside of the apartment to a minimum. It was frustrating, because I couldn’t visit my lovely lunch location, and I knew the meat-on-a-stick vendor had to miss me. The only time we went out was to get food and supplies, alone, and we never went to the same place twice. We did whatever we could to keep our identities hidden, knowing Agrippina’s ninjas, for lack of a better term, were probably out there looking for us.
Night time was a different story.
Between midnight and dawn, against our Roman friends’ advice, the city was our playground, and we took to it like Batman in Gotham City. Like modern day free runners, we’d climb, run and leap our way around the rooftops and walls, patrolling the city. We kept to the shadows, but we weren’t perfect. It was only a few nights after Gaius and Marcus came to our room that we started hearing rumors on the streets about mysterious ghosts that scampered around on people’s homes and disappear the moment they were noticed.
High praise.
But we weren’t just having fun. We were training and reconnoitering the city, working out bodies that had sat idle for far too long and looking in every nook and cranny we could find. We planned every escape route back to our room and every hideaway we could duck into at a moment’s notice. If we had to run from those ninjas again, we didn’t want to end up cracking anymore ribs in the process.
There was also the possibility that we would need to obtain the orb through more scrupulous means than a simple monetary transaction. If things went down the way we suspected they would, it would be at night, some place secluded, and there was absolutely no chance we would pull it off without a hitch. Statistics never lie, and since we’ve been in Rome, nothing ever went the way we planned.
It was currently 2330, and we were getting ready for our next nocturnal prowl. Boredom had been the only thing on the menu for the past ten hours, and now we were getting antsy. It was hard to explain the adrenaline rush that comes with anything we do, but back home, as a SEAL, my time spent in the field had been some of the most exhilarating of my life. The amount of terror, anger, testosterone, and bullets that flowed freely during those missions had made my blood boil, and after every successful mission, the only thing I wanted was more.
I loved and hated what I did. It reminded me of a quote from the Roman poet Catullus who wrote:
“I love and I hate. Why do I do this, you ask? I know not, but I am tortured by it.”
Living in a world consumed by war left few options to find fulfillment. One could sit back and wait for the inevitable or one could fight, waging an ever losing battle to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. It was a bleak reality, and even though I despised killing, even when necessary, I couldn’t deny the rush I felt every time the bullets started flying.
It invigorated me like nothing else.
Doing what we’ve done here in Rome was no different. Running around on rooftops, trying to avoid detection and spooking small children who just happened to be glancing out their window was just another way for me to get my kicks. Helena and Santino felt the same.