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

and its Kevlar lining for protection. In any
case, I appreciated both the protective and aesthetic value these
new shoulder pads provided.
    Stuffing the vest into my bag, I gave the locker a
final look over. Everything was secure and ready to go. My rifle
was secure in its waterproof bag, and my other equipment was stored
in another waterproof bag.
    With a breath of satisfaction, I reached for the
laces of my black waterproof boots, but my thoughts continued to
stray towards that equipment cache. Something just did not click
with this mission. In all the years I’d been in the field, never
had I been provided with additional gear to help out if things got
bad. Sure, I’d raided the enemy’s supplies numerous times, but I’d
never been given this kind of support.
    Maybe working for the Pope has more advantages than
I thought.
    Tying off my second boot, I stood and turned to see
if my lovely swim buddy needed a hand.
    I immediately wished I hadn’t.
    Helena was in her form fitting wetsuit, bending over
at the waist to retrieve something out of her foot locker. Thanks
to the skin tight material, I could see that her body was more than
just lithe, but well-muscled as well in all the right ways and
places.
    Recovering as quickly as I could, I tried to shift
my eyes before she caught me.
    I wasn’t nearly quick enough.
    Expecting some form of backlash, I was instead
rewarded with a sultry smile.
    “You all right, Lieutenant? You’re as pale as a
ghost.”
    I coughed, and Santino, seated next to me, elbowed
my thigh.
    “Ah, um, I was just wondering if you needed any
help. McDougal mentioned your lack of underwater experience.”
    “I’ll be fine, just stay close and don’t let me
wander too far down there.”
    “I’ll stay right on top of you.”
    I winced. Oops.
    “Don’t get any ideas, Lieutenant,” she said
coldly.
    Luckily I was saved further embarrassment by
McDougal’s commanding voice. “All right everybody, we’re leaving in
ten. Get your gear and meet up at the airlock.”
    I shouldered my gear bag, as well as my rifle bag,
and grabbed my Mk VI, noticing Helena was ready as well.
    “Ready, Lieutenant?” she asked.
    “Lead the way, ma’am.”
     
    ***
     
    The airlock was little more than a room with a hatch
one would find on a submarine, and a grated floor. On the floor
were seven underwater propulsion vehicles, or UPVs for short,
little more than a thin bed to lay in with foot rests. At the front
was a dashboard with a windshield, propulsion lever and a joystick.
The dashboard had a night vision view of what was in front of the
sub, a GPS radar screen, fuel and power readouts, and a radio. The
craft was simple enough to carry one person, a reasonable amount of
gear, and travel through the water at a respectable speed. It
didn’t possess a cockpit so it forced a pilot to use his own
breathing device. I was extremely familiar with the little ships,
but the rest of the crew rarely had the opportunity to even work
with flippers, something every diver should be competent with
anyway.
    McDougal ordered me to give the team a quick
briefing on the crafts since I was the most familiar with them. I
went over the basics: throttle and directional controls, dashboard
equipment, as well as to remind them that they keep their legs
firmly secure in the foot rests.
    Only Santino had a question. “Phasers?”
    I shook my head and tried not to laugh.
    Honestly, any eight year old could control the small
submersibles. The controls were designed like any video game
controller and as long as the user stayed on the bed, feet secure,
they wouldn’t float away. Even if they did manage to separate from
the sub, the controls had an automatic shut off if separated from
the pilot. All it would take was a quick swim back.
    After I finished my quick briefing, the team spread
out amongst the UPVs, McDougal in the center flanked by Wang and
Bordeaux, Santino and Vincent on the left, and Helena and myself on
the right. After we