by Simon Hawke
He chuckled at the expression on Andre’s face.
“Yes. George Washington will be the third to fall. The crowning touch. The father of his country will be assassinated by a bastard. A fitting irony. I think. I trust my father will appreciate it. The deaths of any one of those three men should be sufficient to bring about a timestream split. The assassination of all three should cause a chain reaction that will spread throughout all history.”
He pulled back his sleeve and entered a set of coordinates into his warp disc. And now, Miss Cross, the time has come for us to say farewell. It has been a fascinating game, but I’m afraid it’s over now.” He turned to Sally. “Kill her.”
Looking stunned, Sally aimed the laser at Andre’s chest.
“Sally. wait!” said Andre. “Don’t listen to him! Moffat is all right! Help me! I can take you to him!”
She hesitated.
“I said, kill her!” Drakov shouted.
“No. Sally, don’t!”
“Jared!”
Drakov spun around to see Moffat standing in the doorway. holding a flintlock pistol in his bloody hand. Before Drakov could speak Moffat fired. The ball struck Drakov in the chest. Sally screamed. Drakov stared at Moffat with utter disbelief, then he toppled to the floor.
For a moment, no one moved and then the laser was suddenly plucked out of Sally’s hand. She cried out as Darkness materialized, holding the laser pistol. Andre ran to Drakov and turned him over. he was still alive, but only barely. He looked up at her and coughed up blood.
“I seem to… have… miscalculated,” he said, struggling to get the words out. He coughed again and brought up more blood. “No matter
… you’re… too late. I… still… win…” His eyes clouded over and his labored breathing stopped.
Andre glanced up at Moffat. “What did he mean, he still wins?” Moffat stood there with the empty pistol still held in his hand, staring at Drakov’s corpse.
“Moffat! What did he mean?” Moffat’s lips moved, but he made no sound. Sally ran to him sobbing and threw her arms around his neck, but he was in a daze, as if entranced.
“It’s no use,” said Darkness. You won’t get anything out of him now. He’s in a fugue state. He’s suffered a breakdown.’”
“Adams…” Andre said. “Drakov said he was going to die tonight, right under our very eyes. But if we were watching Adams, then how could… Doc, we’ve got to get out of here, right now!”
11
When Johnny Small came to in the middle of Boston Common, for a moment he could not recall what had happened. He seemed to remember hearing someone speak and then… He rolled over on the damp grass and got up to his hands and knees. His head hurt and his jaw was sore. He felt it and his hand came away wet with blood. His mouth was cut. And then he remembered. Andre had hit him. He couldn’t believe it. She had actually hit him! Why? He had only been trying to help.
He got up slowly and looked around. The Common was deserted. It was dark and he could barely see a thing He remembered all the hooded men. The Hellfire Club! They had Ebenezer Macintosh! They were going to hang him! He shivered, though it wasn’t a cold night. He swallowed hard. It must be over by now, he thought. With a feeling of dread, he started to walk toward the Liberty Tree. Andre had wanted to stop them. She had told him to run for help, but he had known that it was pointless. What was the use? To whom could he have run for help? By the time he could have reached any of the Sons of Liberty, any one of them, and by the time they could have roused the others, it would have been long finished. Mr. Macintosh would have been dead before he could have run three blocks. He had tried to make her see that it was useless, that there was nothing they could do. but she simply wouldn’t listen, he had tried to pull her away from the scene before they could be spotted, thinking only of her safety, but she had gone crazy, she had struck him-actually struck him and knocked him senseless! He was amazed that a girl could hit so hard. And now, as he slowly walked toward the Liberty Tree, he was afraid of what he would find hanging from its branches. But he couldn’t help himself. As if in a daze, he kept on moving.
Her idea had been crazy. Firing a pistol into the air to make the hooded men think that Macintosh’s friends had come running to his rescue! It might have fooled them for an instant, but he had known they would see through it. By the time she fired, and then taken the time that was needed to reload, and then fired once more, they would have realized that it wasn’t a group that they were facing, but only one person. And they would have realized that there was no shouting, no sound of men approaching, no running footsteps pounding across the Common. They would have spread out and circled around her, captured her, disarmed her, and then…
Johnny stopped and shut his eyes. The Liberty Tree was just ahead of him. He was afraid to look. And he couldn’t nor look. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, then forced himself to open his eyes. The old elm tree stood starkly silhouetted against the night sky. With a feeling of horrified dread, Johnny stared up into its branches, fully expecting to see two bodies hanging there.
The branches were bare of anything but leaves.
Johnny blinked and then came closer. There was no one hanging from the tree. Not Andre, not even Macintosh. He stared into the branches, relieved, but at the same time puzzled. How could it be? Something must have happened. Andre by herself could never have stopped those men, no matter how remarkable a girl she was. What could have occurred to prevent them from hanging Macintosh? They had already had the noose around his neck, his fate seemed sealed. His foot touched something and he looked down to see the rope lying on the ground. If someone had come to rescue them, then surely they would never have left him lying in the Common. Surely Andre would have returned for him.
Or perhaps she hadn’t wanted to.
Someone must have warned the Sons of Liberty, thought Johnny. That was the only possible explanation. While he had lain unconscious, Macintosh’s friends had arrived just in the nick of time and rescued him, and Andre hadn’t bothered to return for him, disgusted with him, thinking that he was a coward when he had only been thinking of protecting her. That must have been what happened. And by now, she would have told them all what happened and they would all think he was a coward, ready to run away and let a fellow patriot die rather than risk going to his aid. And there was no way he would be able to explain it to them, no way that they would ever understand. They had been outnumbered. There were only two of them. How could they have hoped to stand against all those men alone? How could he have knowingly led a girl into such danger? A girl he loved. No. they would never understand, but he had to explain it to them somehow. He had to explain to Andre. He couldn’t bear having them think he was a coward. Especially Andre.
He started walking away from the Common. He felt the Liberty medallion in his pocket. They would probably take it away from him now. He wanted to cry, but he simply couldn’t. There were no tears in him. He just felt empty and hollow inside. And utterly, inconsolably miserable.
He headed south down Summer Street, his shoulders hunched, his hands jammed deep into his pockets. He wasn’t sure where he was going. The streets were dark and silent. Before long, it would be morning and Johnny didn’t want to see the sun. He didn’t want anyone to see him. He simply wanted to run away somewhere and hide. But he couldn’t run away. He couldn’t hide. There was something that he had to do.
He took his hands out of his pockets and pressed them up against his temples as he walked. His head hurt. He couldn’t think straight. He passed Bishop’s Avenue and kept on walking straight, unconsciously picking up his pace. The pain in his head was getting worse. All he ever wanted to do was help and he had only made things worse. Mr. Revere had trusted him and he had let him down. Andre would never forgive him. And as for Mr. Adams, who had paid him the highest compliment by personally giving him the Liberty medallion, saying, “Your role in this is especially important, Jonathan. It is absolutely vital.”
Absolutely vital. There was some
thing he had to do that was absolutely vital. Johnny was running now, still clutching at his head. He ran past Cow Lane, still heading south on Summer Street, past South Street, toward the docks. He turned left on Purchase Street and kept on running… then he suddenly stopped. He waited to catch his breath. The pain in his head was gone now. The breeze coming in off the sea felt fresh and cool on his face. He was standing in front of Samuel Adams’ house. He went up to the door and tried it. It was locked.
Still staring at the door, he reached inside his coat and too out a laser pistol. He aimed it at the door…
“ Stop where you are!” someone called out. “ Don’t move!”
Slowly. Johnny turned around. Several men stood spread out in the street behind him, pointing weapons at him.
“Drop the gun!”
Johnny continued to hold onto the laser. He stared at the armed men with confusion.
“Johnny, put down the gun.” He squinted at the dark, shadowy forms. “Andre?”
“Yes, Johnny, it’s me. Put the gun down, Johnny. Please.”
His mouth felt dry. He moistened his lips. His head had started to hurt again.
“There is-there is something that I have to do…” he said.
Andre came toward him. “Please, Johnny. Put the gun down. You don’t want to hurt me. do you?”
“Hurt you? N-No. I–I would never..” He started to breathe heavily. The pain in his head grew worse. “I must do… something …”
Lucas suddenly appeared standing close behind him. Andre shook her head slightly and Lucas hesitated. The boy’s finger was right on the firing stud. If he didn’t grab it quickly enough…
“I’ll help you, Johnny,” she said, slowly moving closer and keeping her voice very steady. “We’ll do it together, okay? But you must give me the gun.”
“You-you hit me…”
“Yes, Johnny, I know.” Closer, “I’m sorry: Closer still.
Lucas gritted his teeth and made ready to grab for the gun. Andre kept her gaze locked with Johnny’s.
“I was only.. pounding in his temples now.
“I know, Johnny,” Andre said “I understand. You meant well. I only wanted to apologize. Won’t you please give me the gun and we can talk?”
Lucas tensed. Johnny’s hand had started to shake. Andre was so close. if he grabbed for the gun and the kid tightened his finger…
“Please. Give me the gun, Johnny. You don’t want to hurt me.”
“No,” he said, his voice breaking. I… I love you.”
Andre reached out for the gun and Lucas felt his heart in his mouth. Her lingers closed around the barrel gently and she took it from him.
“ I‘m… sorry… “ Johnny said and Lucas let his breath out in a long sigh of relief. Andre handed him the laser pistol.
Johnny put his hands up to his face and started sobbing. Andre took him in her arms.
“It’s all right. Johnny.” she said, gently stroking his hair. As she looked at Lucas, he saw that she was crying too. “It’s all right. Everything will be all right now.”
A moment later, a sleepy Samuel Adams came to his front door dressed in his nightclothes. He had been awakened by voices outside his open bedroom window. He held up his lamp and stared out into the darkness. The street was empty. He grunted, shut the door, and went hack upstairs to bed.
The outpost was located in the 2nd century B.C., high in the Alpine range overlooking the Po Valley. Several miles to the west was the mountain pass through which Hannibal would march his forces to meet the Roman consul Scipio at the Battle of Trebia. A short hop from the outpost was a small river. At a spot staked out about fifteen feat from the river’s edge, a temporal convergence existed, a confluence point where two parallel timelines intersected.
The temporal range of this particular confluence point was three days and during that time, it was being patrolled by a unit of Temporal Corps Rangers under the command of Major Curtis. The “window” had been carefully chosen and they had only a short space of five minutes, during which time Curtis had been ordered to pull back with his men. He did not know why; he had no need to know. He only knew that something would be happening at the confluence point location during those five minutes that was of a highly classified nature and he had asked no questions.
“How does it feel to be going home again?” asked Lucas
“It feels a little strange, pilgrim,” Hunter said.
“Don’t-”
“Call me pilgrim.” Hunter finished with him in chorus. He grinned. “All right. pilgrim. I won’t.” He glanced at Steiger. “No hard feelings, Colonel?”
“No hard feelings. Captain.”. Steiger said. But just to set the record straight, if our paths ever cross again-”
“Yeah I know.” said Hunter.-I’d like to say I’m looking forward to it, but then again… “
“Go on. Get out of here.” said Steiger.
Hunter snapped to and threw him a salute. Steiger grimaced sourly and returned it.
“Take care of yourself. Reese.” said Andre.
“You too. kid.” he said, shaking her hand. “Delaney… “
“Good luck. Hunter.” They shook hands.
“Lucas.”
“Lucas took his hand. “I hope you’ll understand when I say that I sincerely hope we’ll never see each other again.”
Hunter smiled. “Yeah. Likewise. Tell Forrester for me that I think he’s a hell of a soldier and he has my respect.”
“I will.”
“And that goes for you, as well. And give my regards to Dr. Darkness. Fascinating man. I suppose I ought to hate him for inventing that damn warp grenade, but I guess he was as much a victim as any of us were. I wonder if we have anyone like him on our side.”
“I hope not.” Lucas said. “One of him is quite enough.”
Hunter looked around at all of them one last time. “It’s been interesting; he said. “I’m still not sure what kind of a report I’m going to make. I suppose I’ll have to lie a little. Oh, by the way. I’ve got something for you.” He reached into his pocket and handed Lucas his Liberty medallion. “A souvenir,” he said. “Vaya con Dios.”
He turned and walked straight toward the riverbank without looking back. He passed through the confluence point and disappeared.
“You know, in a funny son of way. I’m going to miss him,” said Delaney.
“Yeah, me too.” said Andre. “And if we ever run into him again, we’re probably going to have to kill him.”
“That’s if he doesn’t get us first.” said Lucas. “But at least we understand each other, which is a lot more than I can say for the rest of this screwed up world.”
He sighed and took one last look at the river that led to another flow of time.
“Come on. people.” he said. “Let’s go home
Epilogue
The circular letter opposing the Townshend Acts was drawn up by Samuel Adams, with the help of James Otis, Thomas Cushing, and Joseph Hawley of the Massachusetts House, and sent out to all the colonies. While the letter was being circulated and debated. Charles Townshend died in England, succumbing to a fever. In his place as Chancellor of the Exchequer. King George appointed Lord North. a man who felt that the colonists were nothing less than a bunch of mutineers. At the same time, Lord Hillsborough was appointed to a brand-new office. Secretary of State for Colonial Affairs. Hillsborough felt the same way North did about the rebellious colonists. He felt it was time to stop coddling England’s “ungrateful children.”
When Lord Hillsborough received a copy of the Massachusetts circular letter. he took it to the king and then passed on His Majesty’s command to each colonial governor. instructing them to have their legislatures ignore the letter and “treat it with the contempt it deserves.” Governor Bernard was ordered to have the Massachusetts House formally rescind the letter. If they refused, the body was to be dissolved.
Bernard passed on his instructions to the House. The members voted. The order to rescind the circula
r letter was defeated by a vote of ninety-two to seventeen. Sam Adams sent a letter to Governor Bernard, informing him of the decision, and the nest day, Governor Bernard dissolved the House, as he was ordered by his king, knowing that by doing so, he played right into the hands of Samuel Adams and the Sons of Liberty. “The Glorious Ninety-two” became a rallying cry in Boston and the names of the seventeen who voted to rescind were posted on the Liberty Tree.
The boycott of British goods was taken up in earnest throughout all the colonies. A worried Parliament took up the question of the Townshend Acts and Lord North spoke before the body. “America must fear you before she can love you.” he told the members, urging them not to repeal the Townshend Acts until they saw America prostrate at their feet. In the fall of 1768, four thousand British troops arrived in Boston, nearly one redcoat for every four citizens. The elated Tories set off fireworks in celebration and taunted the patriots with a song called “Yankee Doodle.”
Yankee Doodle came to town. a-riding on a pony, stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni!
Yankee Doodle, keep it up!
Yankee Doodle, dandy!
Mind the music and the step, and with the girls be handy!
The song was meant to be derisive. During the French and Indian War. the British troops had taken to calling the New England militia “Yankee companies.” The word “macaroni” was London slang for a fop, a dandy, a foolish and superficial young man who hung about in taverns. The song was the Tories’ way of making fun of the radicals who met in the taverns on the waterfront, something they felt safe to do now that the British troops were present to protect them. Little did they know that their taunting song would soon be turned around on them, to be used as a marching tune by the Continental Army
