Chase (ChronoShift Trilogy)

by Zack Mason

  ALSO BY ZACK MASON

  Killing Halfbreed

  Shift

  Chase

  Turn

  CHASE

  Zack Mason

  Dogwood Publishing

  Lawrenceville, Georgia

  Chase is a work of fiction. All names and places are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Published by Dogwood Publishing

  Copyright 2011 by Zack Mason

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Dogwood Publishing, a division of More Than Books, Inc., Georgia.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request from the publisher.

  Trade Paper

  ISBN: 0-9787744-3-4

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9787744-3-1

  E-Book

  ISBN: 0-9787744-4-2

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9787744-4-8

  Manufactured in the United States of America.

  9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  First Edition: May 2012

  Cover Design by Matt Smartt

  This book is dedicated to

  God,

  the Creator of Time and Author of all Adventure

  -and-

  to Sam & Hazel Lessley

  who first inspired me with

  a sense of the history around us.

  Chase is the second part of a three-part story that could not be told in one volume. If you have not yet read Shift, you may wish to do so before proceeding.

  Previously in Shift

  (Book I of the ChronoShift Trilogy)

  • Mark Carpen, a former special forces soldier, loses his children in a terrible car accident.

  • The family of the drunken teenager driver who killed them sues Mark for everything he owns and Mark's wife, Kelly, abandons him.

  • Mark turns his back on society and loses himself in the North GA mountains to live off the land.

  • While wandering, Mark discovers an empty shed in the middle of the woods. Inside, are several watches — time-travel devices that latch onto the wearer's wrist and can only be removed at death.

  • With the watch, which Mark calls a shifter, he can jump through time at will. He uses the shifter to acquire billions of dollars in a matter of months.

  • Mark returns to the day of the wreck to save his kids, but a strange and powerful force firmly prevents him from stopping the accident, no matter what he tries, and he is devastated.

  • A mysterious stranger, who also bears a shifter, recruits Mark to embark on certain time-travel "missions" for a company called ChronoShift. His name is Hardy Phillips.

  • Mark soon meets and conducts missions with a second member of ChronoShift, Ty Jennings. The three men quickly become friends.

  • Suddenly, Hardy and Ty disappear into thin air — their office abandoned.

  • Alone, Mark uses his shifter to fight crime and tragedy on his own. He hires Savannah Stanford to do historical research and builds himself a time-travel "armory."

  • Mark travels back in time and recruits younger versions of Hardy and Ty from the U.S. military before the two men have ever heard of time shifters. Mark gives them his two extra watches. Together, they form a new company and name it ChronoShift. It is unclear who actually hired who.

  • Later, Mark saves Laura Kingsley, an exotic dancer, from a violent assault. He becomes infatuated with her, and they date.

  • Laura is only interested in material gains. When she realizes she cannot dominate Mark, she breaks off the relationship. She then takes up with Hardy. Mark's fury over the betrayal causes Hardy to separate from ChronoShift

  • Alexander Rialto, a senior agent with the IRS, begins to investigate Mark's tax history. After 15 years of continual investigation and frustration, Rialto finally discovers Mark's secret, but not before being fired from the IRS for persecuting Mark.

  • A bitter Rialto kills Ty in the year 2027 and takes Ty’s shifter for himself. He uses it to kill Hardy, taking that watch as well. Rialto then recruits for himself an army of time-traveling, ex-mafiosos whose primary objective is to destroy Mark Carpen.

  • As Shift concludes, Mark and Ty have been captured by Rialto's men — Mark in Washington DC at the death of Abe Lincoln in 1865, and Ty in Dallas at the Kennedy assassination in 1963. Both are set to be executed and neither Hardy nor Savannah have any idea where they are.

  Like Secret Codes?

  The author has been given exclusive access

  to ChronoShift’s website while it is under construction.

  1. Go to www.Chrono-Shift.com

  2. Login: 09071890

  3. Click on “Proxy” and look closely to see

  if you can solve the code.

  "Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends."

  ~ William Shakespeare

  April 30th 2013, Boston, MA

  A series of electronic chirps from Hardy’s phone interrupted what otherwise would have been a perfectly pleasant breakfast with Laura Kingsley.

  Exotic beauty was the only way to describe her. The caramel tone of her skin was accentuated well by her chestnut brown hair, laced with streaks of blonde. She captivated his eyes and mind with the raw, physical attraction of her beauty.

  Sure, she dyed her hair and wore contact lenses most days that transformed her eyes into sparkling violet amethysts, but who cared? It looked good. Her expertise in all things cosmetic came easily to her, even when she made spontaneous changes.

  This morning, she'd chosen different contacts. Her striking purple pupils had been replaced by a bright emerald green.

  She was not an easy woman to keep happy. If it weren't for the shifter Mark had given him, doing so would have been near impossible. She had expensive tastes.

  Hardy Phillips lowered the piece of browned toast he'd been buttering and picked up the cordless.

  "Hardy?" asked a familiar, yet timid female voice.

  "Hey, Savannah. What's up? Did Mark decide he wants to speak to me again?"

  "Sorry, no. It's not about that."

  "Okay." He laughed to hide the hurt he felt. "What then?"

  "I'm not sure, but I think something's wrong...seriously wrong."

  "What happened?"

  "You know how you guys meet...er...they meet every Monday morning. Well, yesterday, neither Mark nor Ty showed up. There's no good reason for them to miss. You know that better than anybody."

  "You know about the shifters?"

  "I pretty much figured it out by myself, so Mark filled me in."

  "I see. Well, you're right. If they didn't show up for the Monday meeting, something's wrong. I'll be right over. Fill me in when I get there." He terminated the call.

  The Monday morning meetings had been designed to serve as an alarm system of sorts as much as a planning time. Since the three of them could shift to any hour or minute they ever needed, if one of them didn't show up as scheduled, it could only mean one thing.

  "What was that about?" Laura inquired.

  "Mark and Ty are missing. I've got to go and see what's going on."

  "Mark's a big boy...surely he can take care of himself. Why should you go running off to help him when he's not even talking to you?"

  "He's not talking to me because of you, Laura."

  She knew that. Better than he did.

  "So? You're still not his caretaker. It's time you forgot about him and formed your own company."

  Hardy scowled. This was a side of her he didn't like. "I owe everything to Mark. If he wants to hate me, that's his prerogative, but I'm not about to let something happen to him. He saved your life too. Did you forget?"

  She didn't respond except to shoot hi
m a look that told him what she wouldn't be forgetting for several days was this conversation.

  He didn't care. He'd bend over backwards to make her happy with superficial things like money, things that didn't matter, but he wasn't about to let a friend come to harm. She'd just have to get over it.

  ***

  Concern lined Hardy's face as he strode into the office. He glanced sideways at the wall and winced. The last time he'd been here, Mark had thrown him against that wall and nearly choked the life out of him.

  "How are you, Savannah?"

  This was the girl Mark should be pursuing. She was perfect for him. More than just pretty, she was beautiful in a delicate, elegant way, and cultured to boot. Not at all like Laura. Laura's only good attributes were her physical ones. Hardy could be happy with that, and yes, he knew how shallow that made him.

  Mark deserved so much better than Laura, but he was too blinded by his infatuation to see her faults. He deserved someone like Savannah. If she'd just let her hair down once in a while, maybe Mark would notice.

  "I'm fine, Hardy."

  "Fill me in."

  She told him about the manipulated bank accounts and the discovery of a man named Smith who not only had a shifter, but was actively trying to harm Mark. Recounting how they'd searched for Smith and undone his sabotage, she showed Hardy the note that Mark had found in the bank vault when he'd last confronted Smith.

  L-04-14-65 L.H.O.

  K-11-22-63 J.W.B.

  She explained they'd thought it was a reference to the Lincoln and Kennedy assassinations. Mark and Ty had thought Smith must have been planning something around the assassinations, and since the note was their only lead on how to find the man again, they'd split up, Mark going back to 1865 and Ty to 1963.

  "They split up?"

  "Yes, Mark took Lincoln and Ty took Kennedy. Last I knew, they were just going to look around and see if they spotted Smith anywhere."

  "Smells like a trap. Seems mighty careless of Smith to conveniently drop this note at that bank."

  "It didn't occur to us at the time, but I guess you're right. I didn't get worried till today. They didn't show up at all yesterday, which can only mean..."

  "Mark's never been suspicious enough. Yes, if they didn't show up, that's bad. We should be able to undo it though — that is, as long as this Smith doesn't get me too."

  I know I disappeared a time or two

  And along the way I lost me and you

  "Little Rock"

  ~ Collin Raye

  April 14th 1865, Washington D.C.

  Hardy decided to go after Mark first. Finding out what happened to him shouldn't be too tricky. If Mark were looking for this Smith guy, he would have visited Ford's Theater in D.C. the night of Lincoln's assassination. Even if Mark had visited a number of other different times or places, the only place Smith would know to find Mark to capture him would be at that theater near the moment of the assassination, and Smith had to be the one responsible for Mark's disappearance.

  On the other hand, if it turned out Smith wasn't responsible, it would prove impossible for Hardy to find Mark if he didn't visit Ford's theater that night.

  Dressed in upper-class attire appropriate for a Washingtonian of 1865, Hardy waited just outside the theater. He kept a close watch on anyone entering or leaving, especially the carriages pulling up in front of the venue to let people on and off. If Hardy were going to kidnap someone, he'd want to be able to whisk them away quickly. Smith would likely be thinking along the same lines.

  Around 10:15, a single muffled gunshot echoed from inside the theater.

  Such a humbling, hollow sound. Hardy knew what that shot meant for Abraham Lincoln.

  A few moments later, Mark emerged from a side entrance followed closely by two rough-looking men dressed in black frock coats. The men ushered Mark toward a carriage which had been parked for several minutes by the curb.

  Why didn't Mark just shift out to escape? He suspected they must have a gun on him.

  Hardy dared not attempt a rescue here. There was a chance this Smith knew what he looked like, which meant he needed to stay out of sight.

  Before Mark could enter the cab, one of the men chopped him on the back of the neck. The other caught his unconscious body and shoved it into the empty car.

  Hardy followed them at a safe distance on a horse he'd rented from a local farmer. The inconspicuous carriage bearing Mark advanced at a slow pace as it left the city, rocking with each small hole in the roadway it encountered. To remain unnoticed, Hardy made sure he maintained a significant distance between himself and the cab, especially once their surroundings became more rural.

  He would have to drop back even more if these guys went any farther into the country. The farther they went, the more Hardy and his mount would stand out.

  One of those men was probably Smith and, if so, he would have a shifter. Hardy needed to find a way to free Mark before he got hurt, and he was having trouble imagining scenarios where that wasn’t going to be a difficult feat.

  He was definitely not looking forward to entering into a shifting duel with another time traveler. He needed to devise a plan that would get Mark out of there without being outdone by Smith.

  The houses lining the road were growing sparser, enough so that he'd soon be noticed. It was camouflage time.

  He wondered, if he were to push the shift button right now, would his horse go with him?

  He knew Mark had shifted with Laura once just by holding her hand. There was only one way to find out. If he was wrong, he'd only have a sore rear to show for it.

  He pushed the button…and thankfully, did not find himself in sudden free fall. As he'd hoped, both Hardy and the horse were now twenty minutes in the past.

  He just loved this watch. It had some very nice features.

  The carriage was behind him now, further back down the road. Instead of appearing to be following, he now rode a good distance ahead of the coach that held Mark. It was an excellent surveillance maneuver since it wasn't natural to suspect someone ahead of you of actually being in pursuit.

  He stayed consistently well ahead of the coach until he noticed it turning off onto a side road out of the corner of his eye. He shifted once more, traveling back far enough to appear in front of the carriage again, but now on the side road.

  When the car turned onto a narrow drive that led to a farmhouse, it was time to shift again. He led the horse to a grove of trees and staked it out behind a small knoll where it would remain unseen from the house or the barn.

  He needed to shift to an hour before the carriage arrived so he could scope out the buildings while they were empty. Hardy remounted the horse before he shifted, thinking he might need him for a quick get-away.

  After this last shift, however, the horse began to act funny. It spread out all four hooves and planted them firmly, looking at him with the most pitiful expression he'd ever seen on a horse.

  It nipped at its flanks with a sudden desperation and then he thought it might be sick, but instead it suddenly broke out into a thick sweat. Rivulets of perspiration rolled down its coat, even along its face. He was worried that he might have inadvertently killed the animal, but after a few minutes, it finally began to recover.

  Apparently, when shifting, large animals got nauseous faster than people. An interesting factoid to be filed away for a future date.

  Perhaps he'd be better off not relying on this horse for a quick get-away after all. Come to think of it, he had just shifted a total of five times within a few hours, including the initial shift to 1865. He would be smart to camp out for the evening and let the shifter recharge before he attempted a rescue. If anything went wrong when he tried to free Mark, they might need to shift several times in a row.

  While he felt sympathy, the miserable look on that horse’s face had been kind of funny. What wouldn't be funny was if they got caught because the shifter shut down on him. Since he knew where Mark was now, Hardy would simply scope out the barn and farm
house at his leisure, and then move away from the property to camp for the night. He would wait the standard twenty-four hours to let his shifter rest, or do whatever it was it needed to do to reset, and then go back.

  ***

  Mark lifted his head. He’d just heard some commotion outside the rustic door. His arms ached, his legs were cramping, and he was tired of waiting.

  Why don't they just get on with it?

  Rialto, the man they’d known as Smith, had left at one point — at least Mark hadn't heard his voice for a while — but now he was back.

  Mark strained against his bonds, but they wouldn't give. He was stuck. He couldn't even pull them close enough to his teeth to chew through them. His only chance would be to bust off one of the slats of wood to which he was tied, but that would require more time than he probably had. They could return any second to put a bullet in his head.

  Suddenly, static hissed directly behind him, the type of hiss you only heard when someone was shifting in or out. Music to his ears. He barely had time to turn and register Hardy's face before he grabbed his forearm. Then, Mark felt himself shifting out.

  The ropes had come along for the ride, but now they dangled loosely from his freed wrists.

  The barn was gone. It had been night and was now daylight, probably early morning. Hardy must have shifted them to a time before the barn had existed.

  They were in a narrow pasture surrounded by trees. About five feet to Mark's right was a grassy slope that descended into thick woods.