Private - Gladiator -2002- -

Decimus fell. Marcus pulled the gladius free and stood over him, breathing hard. He looked at the wealthy men in the audience—the senators of this new Rome. He looked at Tony Gage, whose smile had vanished.

“This isn’t a game,” Marcus said. “And I’m not your gladiator. I’m a United States Army Private. And you’re all under arrest.”

Outside, the cool Roman air hit his face. The Colosseum loomed in the distance, a ghost of stone and glory. Private - Gladiator -2002-

Then the letter came. Not from JAG, but from a man named Lucius Vorenus, who claimed to be a restaurator of antiquities. The letter was written on heavy, papyrus-like paper: "Signore, I have what was lost at Philippi. Come alone. Midnight. The Hypogeum."

The bell rang.

Marcus took a deep breath. “Private. Just Private.”

As the elite scrambled, Marcus walked to the exit. He picked up his helmet, the wolf staring at him with empty eyes. Decimus fell

Finally, Decimus tripped him. Marcus went down, his helmet clattering off. The crowd saw his face—young, bleeding, but calm.

“What do you want?” Marcus’s hand rested on the knife in his boot. He looked at Tony Gage, whose smile had vanished