by Hahn, Joni
Rachel stepped up and squeezed his hand. “Be careful.”
All of these well wishes were just… weird. No one ever cared if he came or went.
He understood it with Aidan. It had been a one-of-a-kind journey and he was a Monroe.
Dar was a Naylor. If something happened to him, at least Tristan and Aidan would see to it that Jocelyn didn’t go back until it was safe.
“You’re all set, Naylor.” Robinson walked around him a final time. “Everything looks secure.”
Dar gave him a deadpan stare. “I need to take a piss.”
Tristan and Aidan laughed. Donning his helmet, Dar gave them a cocky grin.
Rachel said, “I’ll tell Jocelyn you made it out okay.”
“Don’t bother. She doesn’t-“
Jocelyn rushed into the room, her dark hair flying behind her like a silk scarf in the wind. Breathing hard, she stopped short in front of him. Her eyes went from wide with panic, to guarded.
He lowered his helmet to his shoulders.
“Will you give this to my father?” She held out a note, then pulled it back. “Never mind.”
He snatched it from her hand. “I’ll give it to him, Joce.”
Tears filled her eyes, making his heart ache behind the heavy suit. “Stay on guard. They’re ruthless, dangerous people, Dar.”
If she didn’t watch it, she’d almost sound like she cared.
“My father has a meeting every Thursday morning. Angela and I are left at the warehouse by ourselves until noon. If you arrive then, that would be your safest chance to take the machine. You can leave my note on one of the desks.”
“Thanks.” He trailed a finger down her cheek before swiping away an errant tear. “Where are the sailors during that time?”
“They go with him. We keep loaded guns in all of the desks for times when we’re alone.”
“Good to know.” He looked at Mitchell. “I’ll hit that timeframe.”
“Make sure you do.”
His gaze shot back to her. God above, she was beautiful. “Anything else I should know?”
“Beware of those you talk to in Washington, D.C. Even I’ve heard there are traitors there.”
He’d been briefed on who to trust and who to avoid. They had already decided he would talk to Admiral Smith and no one else.
“God speed, d’Artagnan.” She took his covered hand in hers.
Searching her face, Dar yanked her toward him and lowered his mouth to hers. If she rejected him in front of everyone, he may lose face but he’d know where they stood for sure.
When her soft lips touched his, he felt his blood pump wildly, charging his system. Robinson’s computer screen lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Whoops, time to go.” Robinson pulled Jocelyn from his grasp.
The room broke out in laughter.
Dar scowled at Clint as he placed the helmet on his head. “I wasn’t through.”
Jocelyn’s hot smile made his heart soar, and his suit snug.
Yeah, he needed to go.
“Be careful, Dar,” she whispered, as she back away from him to stand with the others.
“I will.”
Closing his eyes, Dar ran his forefinger over the screen on his armband. His blood pumped thick and heavy as an electrical current shot through his system, activating the gold and copper compound. The amplifier kicked in, accelerating his system to jarring heights, his body rumbling with powerful vibrations. A bright light flashed behind his eyelids before the floor fell out from under him.
#####
Dar still couldn’t believe it.
He stared across the street at the Main Navy Building on Constitution Avenue. Classic cars splashed along the wet street, the building lights reflecting off the slick pavement. A sign saying Bring Him Home Sooner, Join the Waves, stared at him from the lamp post beside his head. Jocelyn’s war was everywhere.
Under the cloak of night, he’d easily managed to break into a clothing store and grab a hat and raincoat. Like Monroe’s visit, the weather had cooperated nicely by drizzling off and on, giving him a reason to cover up. He’d left payment for the clothes in special, five-dollar Federal Reserve Notes.
Now, he looked like damned Dick Tracy.
Making his way down the street, he ducked into the Navy Building’s vehicle entryway at the foot of Nineteenth Street. Finding the entrance to the building locked, he pulled a file from his suit. Shoving it into the lock, he found the pin and turned. The door gave way.
If he were still a crook, he could make a fortune with nineteen forty-four’s lack of security.
The center of the building housed the high command offices. Dar knew Admiral Smith’s office was on the eastern side of the Zero wing in the center of the building. With it located on a ground floor, he could easily flee the building if he met resistance.
Sneaking along the deserted wood and concrete hallways, he avoided the pedestrian entrance of the building and stayed toward the center. Finding the executive offices, he searched the names on the doors until he found Smith’s office. Silently, he opened the door and stepped inside.
A wall of windows sat on the opposite wall, the Washington monument in the distance behind a row of trees. The blinds had been pulled up, their cords left dangling. A gas radiator ran the length of the wall, beneath the windows.
Dar went to the desk in the center of the room and looked around. A black, dial telephone sat on the left, a large desktop pad beside it. A calendar with a pen holder sat above the pad, an ashtray and rubber stamps on the right. Official looking documents sat neatly stacked in the top right corner of the glass-top desk.
No computer sat amongst the items, no scanner or earbuds.
He actually stood in a nineteen forty-four Navy office.
Hell yeah.
Spotting a globe in the far corner, he twirled it before sitting in one of the tall-back chairs at a small conference table. Pulling out the documents Mitchell had given him, he looked them over and smiled, before setting them on the table at his ready. His all-in-one followed.
Taking Jocelyn’s note from his sleeve, Dar stared at it. He should read it. Not that he believed she would jeopardize his op, but they were dealing with her father. If anyone knew the struggle between doing what’s right and family loyalty, it was him.
Unfolding the paper, he smiled at the horrible penmanship filled with sharp lines and angles. She wrote like she did everything else, at full speed.
Dear Father,
At the time of this writing, I’m alive and well in the year twenty thirteen. Out of all people, Fate has sent me to Angela’s son, d’Artagnan, who has become very important to me.
They told me you and Angela are involved with the Nazi war effort. Their information supports the suspicions I had, but refused to believe.
Having lived in the future, you knew the outcome of the war went to the Allies. Why would you want to change that? Why would you want to live in the controlling world they want to build?
To say I’m horrified and hurt is… inadequate.
Nevertheless, despite your bad choices, despite your clouded vision of hope, I love you, Dad, and I always will.
I just wanted you to know that.
I have found my own hope in d’Artagnan. He is the best man I’ve ever known. No matter where or when I live, he will live in me.
Your loving daughter,
Jocelyn
Dar’s heart pounded with heavy beats, his blood slushing through his veins. Pure joy fought with his father’s words in his head.
Don’t kid yourself into thinking you’re some kind of good guy.
Obviously, he was some kind of good guy if Jocelyn thought him a good man. How the hell he’d managed that, he’d never know, but he’d take it.
Her note motivated Dar. If he could give her any kind of hope at all, he wanted to do it. She deserved so much more.
This meeting with Admiral Smith gave him an opportunity. Knowing he did his part to end the war pleased him
. If he couldn’t be with Jocelyn, he had to do all he could to keep her safe.
Settling back in the chair, Dar shut his eyes. He could get used to this superhero shit. The idea of saving people made him feel good.
If Robert knew he thought that, he’d call him soft.
So be it.
Because, when it came down to it, he’d be whatever Jocelyn needed him to be.
#####
Dar landed in the forested area near Lake Carnegie in Princeton, New Jersey. Smith would find his office empty when he returned with security personnel.
Grinning to himself, Dar made his way through the thick forest of trees. Showing Smith the information on Chalmers, VonFussenhoffer, and the time machine had instilled a sense of honor and integrity in Dar.
Of course, showing Smith his armbands and his suit had convinced him of the truth rather quickly. However, when Dar gave him the printed specs on the weapon designs and showed him video of how they worked, the man popped out in a cold sweat. He ran from the room on the pretext of calling in Secretary of the Navy, Admiral Knox.
Dar knew a cue to leave when he saw one.
He made his way toward Dinky railroad station and the warehouses beyond. Joce would be happy to learn Mitchell had sent Smith the edge they needed to win the war.
Of course, Dar’s refusal to come without it had nothing whatsoever to do with it.
He did mental fist pump.
The industrial area was quiet for a workday morning, with only a handful of men laboring near the railroad tracks.
Spotting the boarded-up warehouse from Aidan’s video, Dar passed the concrete steps at the front door and walked the perimeter of the building.
He found the double-door entrance at the south end. The solid, wooden doors were secured with a heavy chain and padlock. Prodding them open slightly, Dar peeked through the slit.
The time machine loomed large in the dark room, just as Aidan said. Knowing his mother sat on the other side of the wall royally freaked him out.
Facing his mother for the first time in his life literally made him jittery. He could face an Admiral in the Navy with no qualms, but put him in front of the woman that deserted him at birth and his knees knocked.
“Can I help you?”
A gun barrel nudged his temple. Shit. Holding up his hands, Dar turned to find two men in sailor uniforms standing beside him. One held the gun to his head, the other moved behind Dar, out of sight.
“Yes, you can. I’d like your time machine.”
The man’s mouth dropped open before both sailors started laughing. “I guess the old saying that the big ones don’t have much for brains is true.”
“I’ve heard they don’t have much for balls, either,” the one behind him said.
Oh, he did not just insult his balls…
“So… is that a yes?” Dar said.
Scowling, the man nudged his forehead with the gun. “No. What the hell? You think we’re just going to hand it over to you?”
Dar shrugged. “Well, that would be easier on you.”
His eyes bugged out. “On me?”
“Well, no.” Dar cocked his head. “Really, on both of you.”
The guy behind him said, “Enough of this. Just pop him.”
Grabbing the barrel of the gun, Dar yanked it out of his hand and clobbered him in the forehead with the butt. The man fell back to the pavement, unconscious.
Damn, maybe he did have some super strength, after all.
Whipping around, Dar pointed the gun at the guy behind him. “On your knees, hands behind your head.”
Hands in the air, the man kept his eyes on Dar as he lowered himself to the ground. “Go ahead. Shoot me.”
Knowing he couldn’t shoot him, Dar kneed him in the chin and followed with a hard upper cut. The man fell back on the pavement, out cold.
“Well, that was easy.”
The soft texture of her voice surprised him. He’d always thought she’d have a screechy, high pitched tone.
Turning around slowly, Dar found his mother standing a foot or two away from him. When he faced her dead on, she blinked before her eyes grew wide. She stared at him a moment before collecting herself.
“Can I help you?” She tightened her hold on the gun pointed at his chest.
He could see where Cass got her looks and why Mitchell had fallen for her. She didn’t emit a confident beauty, but a sweet, earthy splendor so contradictory to the cold, metal gun in her hand.
“Yes, you can help me… Angela. I want your time machine.”
She gave him a slow perusal, her blue eyes bright against the early morning clouds. “Who are you?”
He gave her a raised brow. “You’d think a mother would remember her own son.”
Gasping, her hands visibly shook as her eyes popped out of their sockets. “d’Artagnan?” She gave him another quick perusal.
“Good memory - considering you haven’t said it in twenty-six years.” He snatched the gun from her hand.
She reached out to touch his face. He jerked away. This was not going to be a homecoming.
“I’ve thought about you and Cassandra every single day. How is she? Is she okay?”
He pointed at the padlock with her gun. “Open this.”
“I can’t let you take the time machine, d’Artagnan.”
With a bitter laugh, he said, “You don’t have a choice. Now, open it.”
Her piercing, violet-blue gaze studied him. “You won’t shoot me.”
He pointed the gun at the middle of her forehead. “Wanna bet? You mean nothing to me, other than an excuse to pull this trigger.”
Swallowing hard, her face went pale. “I don’t have my keys. They’re inside.”
Dar nodded toward the front of the building. “Let’s go.”
He followed her around the building to the door. As soon as they stepped over the threshold, he told her to halt.
“Stay against the wall. Go near the desks and I’ll shoot you.” He nodded farther into the building. “Now move.” He pointed to his left.
With her back to the wall, she scooted along the brick surface.
“Stop.”
Angela stilled.
Reaching into his sleeve, Dar pulled out Jocelyn’s note and tossed it on a cluttered desk. “Is this your husband’s desk?”
Her voice held a sad tone. “Nathan isn’t my husband and yes, that’s his main desk, anyway. What is that?” Her eyes widened before she moved away from the wall. “Is that from Jocelyn?”
Dar held the gun higher. “I swear I’ll use this.”
Pressing back against the wall again, she sighed. “If you’re anything like your father, I believe you.”
Dar gritted his teeth. He was not like his father. His father was a cold-blooded bastard. Dar had been working damned hard to change his ways. He wouldn’t be here now, changing the course of the war and history, if he hadn’t changed already.
“You left us twenty-six years ago. What the hell do you know about me or my father?” He waved the gun toward the time machine. “Let’s go.”
Walking behind a row of chalkboards, Dar followed her to the machine door. “Open it.”
She shook her head. “If I do that, it’s as good as putting a bullet in my head.”
“Sorry if I don’t shed a tear. I’m fresh out.” Grabbing her by the arm, he went to the panel on the side of the craft and started pressing buttons. After a few tries, the door raised and a set of steps lowered to the floor.
“That wasn’t so hard.”
A car pulled up outside, before a door slammed.
She stared at him with raised brows. “Now, what are you going to do, d’Artagnan?”
“I’m getting out of here.” Leaving her there, he climbed the steps of the small craft. Going to the primitive display panel, he pressed a couple of buttons until the door closed. Realizing it worked much like an airplane, Dar powered up the machine and set the destination hour and date. He pushed the launch button.
&
nbsp; He was heading home.
“You’d better strap in,” Angela said from behind. “It’s a bumpy ride.”
Chapter 11
The first rumble of thunder stopped Jocelyn in the middle of Dar’s apartment.
The time machine. It was on its way.
Sharing a glance with Rachel, they ran out the door and raced for Robinson’s laboratory. Modern-day stretch denims, no jeans, were much easier to run in than anything she’d owned back home. And, she may never take off these light-weight tennis shoes again.
Barging in the door, they found Tristan and Aidan in the
lab with Robinson and his team. Jocelyn stopped in her tracks when Mitchell called Dar over the device in his hand.
“Naylor, is that you?”
Out the window, lightning flashed across the sky as winds pounded the compound with rain and hail. It sounded like a train would crash through the wall at any moment. A loud boom echoed outside. Jocelyn to jump in her shoes.
“Naylor?” Urgency laced Mitchell’s voice.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
A huge rush of relief swept through Jocelyn. It was so good to hear his voice. She’d missed him terribly over the last two days, despite their strained relationship.
“But, I’m not staying. I need to go back.”
Mitchell frowned at no one in particular. “Why?”
“Angela jumped on board. She’s with me.”
The air got sucked out of the room. All eyes shot to Mitchell.
His face looked as white as Clint Robinson’s coat. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Stay, Naylor. Don’t go back.”
Dar’s curses mingled with the sound of Angela’s sobs in the
background. “Are you sure?”
“That’s an order, Naylor.” Mitchell headed for the door without looking at anyone. “We’ll meet you out there.”
“You’re the boss.”
Minutes later, Aidan skidded to a stop in the wet sand. Cassandra climbed out of the SUV after him, Jocelyn on the passenger side. Rachel and Tristan climbed from the jeep with Mitchell and Robinson.
The machine sat in the middle of the empty desert, the cold, manmade weapon marring nature’s beauty. Slowly, the door rose in the steamy heat, rainwater dripping from the edges.
