Read Online James Acton 01 - The Protocol by J Robert Kennedy - Free Book Online
Authors: J Robert Kennedy
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“We know from our own history the power of the skulls when brought together. The fire of 1212 was a cleansing fire brought by God. He wants the skulls brought together, and he has chosen us to be his servants.”
“Amen,” nodded Darbinger, hiding his discomfort at his friend’s increasingly fervent religious beliefs. They had both attended the same church for years, but over the past ten, his friend had let his religion intensely dominate his life. He had taken to praying for guidance on major issues, much to the chagrin of those around him. Darbinger flipped through the folders sitting beside him, looking for the mission report from Peru. It wasn’t there. “Shit, I must have left the report on my desk. I’ll go get it; you’ll want to read it.”
“I’ll be here,” said Jackson as he rose and returned to his desk. Darbinger headed to his office. He looked where he thought the file should be but didn’t see it. He started to search his office with more fervor and came up empty.
“Sheila!” he yelled. His assistant poked her head into his office. “There was a file on my desk, where did it go?”
“I had it brought to the Oval Office just a couple of minutes ago,” she replied. “I figured you wanted it so I had Billy bring it.” Darbinger frowned. “You didn’t get it?”
“No.”
“That’s odd, he should have been there by now. Do you want me to find him?”
“No, I’ll take care of it.”
Somewhere on the Pacific
Someone yelled at him then smacked him across the cheek. Acton opened his eyes, the world a blur around him. He tried to touch the aching spot on his head, but discovered his hands bound to the arms of a flimsy chair.
“You know what we do with stowaways?” yelled the man who had just hit him. Acton looked about as his vision cleared. It was a storage room. More like a garbage room. Some supplies were haphazardly stacked in one corner, but the rest of the room was littered with various pieces of wood and machine parts. It probably hadn’t been swept in years. Martha’d be pissed.
He recognized his assailant as one of the Filipinos he’d seen earlier. His friend was in the corner staring at the skull. “What is that?” said the first one, pointing to the skull. “How much it worth?”
“Nothing,” muttered Acton, reading the unmistakable greed in their eyes. “It’s just a trinket.”
“He’s lying,” said the second. He placed the skull on a nearby table and pulled out a long machete. “Now I show him what we do with lying stowaways.” His partner laughed and turned his head to look at the skull. Acton knew he had to act fast. Raising his feet off the floor, he kicked the man in both knees, the kneecaps snapping with the blow. The man collapsed, screaming in agony. His partner looked in shock as Acton rose as far as he could in the chair and propelled himself backward. He smashed the wooden chair against the wall hard enough that it broke into several pieces, freeing his arms.
Acton picked himself up off the floor just as the second man came at him with the machete. He ducked to avoid the first swing and punched the man in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. As he doubled over Acton kneed him in the face then pushed him to the ground. Grabbing him by the shirt, he punched the man in the nose.
Acton swiftly bound the now unconscious man and stuffed a rag into his mouth. The other writhed on the floor. He tied his hands and gagged him, as well, before grabbing his case and placing the skull inside. With the case back in his bag, he listened at the door. Hearing nothing, he cautiously opened it.
17 th Street, Washington, DC
Billy had been trying to forget the events of earlier. He sat on his couch, staring at the television without really watching it, for hours, until he finally realized he had to eat. He ordered pizza and waited, his feet up on his table, a privilege his mother never allowed him at home, as he watched CNN. Seeing the
“Amen,” nodded Darbinger, hiding his discomfort at his friend’s increasingly fervent religious beliefs. They had both attended the same church for years, but over the past ten, his friend had let his religion intensely dominate his life. He had taken to praying for guidance on major issues, much to the chagrin of those around him. Darbinger flipped through the folders sitting beside him, looking for the mission report from Peru. It wasn’t there. “Shit, I must have left the report on my desk. I’ll go get it; you’ll want to read it.”
“I’ll be here,” said Jackson as he rose and returned to his desk. Darbinger headed to his office. He looked where he thought the file should be but didn’t see it. He started to search his office with more fervor and came up empty.
“Sheila!” he yelled. His assistant poked her head into his office. “There was a file on my desk, where did it go?”
“I had it brought to the Oval Office just a couple of minutes ago,” she replied. “I figured you wanted it so I had Billy bring it.” Darbinger frowned. “You didn’t get it?”
“No.”
“That’s odd, he should have been there by now. Do you want me to find him?”
“No, I’ll take care of it.”
Somewhere on the Pacific
Someone yelled at him then smacked him across the cheek. Acton opened his eyes, the world a blur around him. He tried to touch the aching spot on his head, but discovered his hands bound to the arms of a flimsy chair.
“You know what we do with stowaways?” yelled the man who had just hit him. Acton looked about as his vision cleared. It was a storage room. More like a garbage room. Some supplies were haphazardly stacked in one corner, but the rest of the room was littered with various pieces of wood and machine parts. It probably hadn’t been swept in years. Martha’d be pissed.
He recognized his assailant as one of the Filipinos he’d seen earlier. His friend was in the corner staring at the skull. “What is that?” said the first one, pointing to the skull. “How much it worth?”
“Nothing,” muttered Acton, reading the unmistakable greed in their eyes. “It’s just a trinket.”
“He’s lying,” said the second. He placed the skull on a nearby table and pulled out a long machete. “Now I show him what we do with lying stowaways.” His partner laughed and turned his head to look at the skull. Acton knew he had to act fast. Raising his feet off the floor, he kicked the man in both knees, the kneecaps snapping with the blow. The man collapsed, screaming in agony. His partner looked in shock as Acton rose as far as he could in the chair and propelled himself backward. He smashed the wooden chair against the wall hard enough that it broke into several pieces, freeing his arms.
Acton picked himself up off the floor just as the second man came at him with the machete. He ducked to avoid the first swing and punched the man in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. As he doubled over Acton kneed him in the face then pushed him to the ground. Grabbing him by the shirt, he punched the man in the nose.
Acton swiftly bound the now unconscious man and stuffed a rag into his mouth. The other writhed on the floor. He tied his hands and gagged him, as well, before grabbing his case and placing the skull inside. With the case back in his bag, he listened at the door. Hearing nothing, he cautiously opened it.
17 th Street, Washington, DC
Billy had been trying to forget the events of earlier. He sat on his couch, staring at the television without really watching it, for hours, until he finally realized he had to eat. He ordered pizza and waited, his feet up on his table, a privilege his mother never allowed him at home, as he watched CNN. Seeing the
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