The Thirteenth Legion (A James Acton Thriller, #15) (James Acton Thrillers) Read Online Free Page A

he didn’t believe a thing they said.
    If
the government says something is bad, then they don’t want you to know how good
it actually is.
    He
avoided all modern medicines and genetically modified foods, and that included
pretty much anything in the meat department. He trapped and hunted his own
food, had been for years, and he was as healthy as they come, not that he’d
trust a doctor to confirm his assertion.
    Fit as a
fiddle, his wife would say. He was in good shape, could see for miles, and his
hearing was fantastic.
    He
opened his eyes, the sound of a vehicle approaching pushing his enjoyment of
his dinner to the side. Peering at the dark SUV, too fine a vehicle for anyone
living in these parts, he immediately became suspicious. He flicked aside a
latch on the barbeque platform, positioning his foot for what might be about to
happen, thankful his wife was visiting friends down the dusty dirt road.
    I’m
ready for you bastards.
    The
government had finally come, tired of him challenging their lies on the Internet,
calling them out on their deception of the American people.
    But he
was prepared.
    Four men
stepped out, weapons raised.
    He
pressed his foot down.
    The
barbeque slid forward, its solid metal front easily absorbing the bullets fired
at him. He jumped down the escape hatch hidden under the barbeque, hitting the
ground, pulling on a lever that reset the entire contraption built years ago.
Unless those government agents could figure out how to work it, he was safe.
    He
sprinted down the tunnel, it extending for several hundred feet, taking him
deeper into his property and farther from the road. Yanking on another lever,
he was suddenly flooded with light. He climbed up through the hood of a Jaguar
he had discovered abandoned roadside a few years ago, several gunshot blasts to
the engine telling him the pissed off Texan who had owned it had learned the
hard way you don’t travel long distances in one of these.
    He
stepped out onto the ground, the destroyed engine long since removed, then
gently closed the hood, the gunfire having ceased. Peering out from behind the
large rock concealing the Jag from the roadway, he spotted the four men leaving
his trailer, the SUV soon departing in a cloud of dust.
    He
waited for them to disappear then sprinted back to his home, rushing inside. He
glanced about, nothing out of place, but he knew what they had come for. He
threw open the door to his small office and punched the wall, his safe open,
his most prized possession gone.
    “Bastards!”
     
     

 
     

     
     
    Golgotha, Judea
36 AD, 6 years after the crucifixion
     
    Prefect Pontius Pilate sat at his desk, his wife behind him,
massaging his shoulders, she sensing his tension. He had been recalled to Rome,
they not happy with how he had dealt with the Samaritan uprising. He had tried
his best, of that he was certain, yet his best hadn’t been enough.
    But that
couldn’t be the reason.
    He was
good at his job, he was more than capable, yet everything that could go wrong
had gone wrong.
    And he
couldn’t understand it. He was certain he had somehow annoyed the gods, they
having forsaken him years ago. His wife was convinced it was because he had
allowed the crucifixion of the Jewish Rabi, Jesus. He had to admit the thought
had crossed his mind. Over the years, story had become legend had become myth,
many of his subjects convinced the man had been reborn, resurrected from the
dead, even some of his own troops having deserted, they yet to be found.
    These
followers of Jesus were becoming a bigger problem every day.
    But it
was no longer his problem.
    Junius entered
the office then froze. “Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting, I didn’t realize—”
    “It’s
okay, Junius, I was just leaving,” said Pilate’s wife, a wife he realized more
now than ever, he loved, she having stood by his side, unwavering all these
years. She would never let him know how much she had hated it here in this
desolate, remote land, so far