“So there are two possibilities,” I said. “One is that for some reason they decided to keep him aboard. The other is that he escaped.”
“Janice,” Wally said, “assuming the second possibility, that he escaped, do you have any idea at all where he may be?”
“Yemen. It’s a guess, but it’s the only one I have. As his religious interests deepened he talked constantly about Yemen and how beautiful it was. He showed me pictures online and even talked about us taking a vacation there. I explained that vacationing in a terrorist nest was not my idea of a good time, and we left it at that. Again, it’s only a guess, but it’s the one country he talked about constantly.”
“I’ll have one of my guys check the local plane departures that day," Bennie said. “I’m sure he wouldn’t use his real passport, but it’s basic police work.”
“Does the name Abu Hussein mean anything to you?” I asked.
“Yes, yes,” said Janice, “I saw it scribbled all over papers in the house. Who is it?”
“It could be your husband’s adopted Arabic name,” I said. Janice just stared and muttered something. I could swear her lips spelled out “bastard.”
“Janice,” said Wally, “do you know any officers from the other ships that were hit?”
“It’s possible, but I can’t remember. If you have their names, run them by me.”
I pulled out the list from my file folder.
“All of these guys held the rank of lieutenant commander,” I said. “Each of them was the weapons officer on his ship. I’ll also give you what we think may have been their adopted Arabic names. George Quentin (Jazeer Mohammed), USS Harry S. Truman, Ralph Martin (Fatah Zayyaf), USS Carl Vinson, Frederick Peyton (Lashkar Islamiyah), USS Theodore Roosevelt, and Philip Murphy (Mohammed Hussein), USS George Washington.”
“My God, “said Janice, “they all had Islamic names, including Joe? How do you know this?”
“My friend Wally here is one hell of a researcher, Janice,” I said.
“To get back to Wally’s question,” Janice said, “no I don’t remember any of those names. You’re all welcome to scour the hard drive on Joe’s computer. I work as a consultant out of my home, so anytime is fine with me. How about tomorrow at noon? Lunch is on me.”
“Janice, I can’t tell you how much we appreciate all your help," I said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Jack, could I have a word with you?” Janice said.
“We’ll see you later at Wally’s office, Jack,” said Bennie as he and Wally left. I had borrowed Bennie’s car to run some errands so they left without me.
Oh great. These two are leaving me alone with Ms. Gorgeous. After Ben and Wally left, Janice sat next to me at the conference table.
“Jack, I have something to tell you. I met your lovely wife at the officer’s club one evening a while back. You were off on assignment somewhere. Captain Patterson is one of the most beautiful and charming women I’ve ever met. It’s easy to see how you fell for her and loved her.”
“That’s ‘love’ in the present tense, Janice. Remember, I’m from 2015 and I’m very happily married.”
Janice leaned over and put her hand under the table. Oh God no, she’s got her hand on my knee.
“Jack, I know you’ve been through a lot of stress. Losing a beautiful woman like Ashley must have torn you apart.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer to me. “Jack, honey, you’ve got to give this up.” (Honey? Again she calls me Honey.) “You lost the love of your life, but you’re still here. You never died. You’ve got to give up this time travel bullshit and recognize that you are very much alive. Somehow you missed that cruise and you’re just trying to force it out of your head. I’m no shrink, but I’d say you’re in denial over the whole thing. Ashley died and you’re alive and you feel guilty about that. Another thing I’ve noticed. There’s something going on between you and me. I’m a very traditional gal, and the last thing I would ever do would come between a man and his wife. But you’re a widower, Jack. Ashley’s dead. You’re alive. I’m alive.”
With that she squeezed my knee. I reached for some water.
“Janice, yes, there is something going on between us, and I call it friendship. I know that this time travel ‘bullshit’ as you call it is hard to grasp, but you have to know one thing. It’s true. Nobody can explain it, but it’s happened to me four times. I'm here from the past, and that’s where I belong, along with the woman I exchanged wedding vows with. My objective, my sole objective, is to return to that time and prevent the Thanksgiving Day disaster, saving Ashley, myself, and over 26,000 other people. To the extent that I’m alive, it’s what I’m living for.”
“So pardon my engineer’s skepticism, Jack, but let me see if I have this straight. You find this ‘wormhole,’ take a trip back to 2015, and prevent the attacks. What about the guy I’m sitting next to? What about me, Bennie, Wally, and everybody else? Will I still be married to that treasonous prick? Do we all slip into a different existence, a world that never knew the Thanksgiving Attacks? Will I ever see you again?”
“Janice, the world knows me as the ‘time travel expert’ because of my book and my experiences, especially The Gray Ship incident. But I don’t know any more about this stuff than you. I’ve just experienced it. I did find that history can be changed. Hell, we changed the Civil War on the USS California. After spending seven months in 1861, we came back to 2013, but it was a very different 2013. Someday, if I’m successful, I’ll wind up in the present, the one we’re going through now. You and I probably won’t meet, because we’ll have no reason to.”
“But, Jack, at least I’ll be able to look at your gorgeous face on your endless TV appearances. A handsome guy who I never met. This is freaking me out.”
As she’s telling me this she’s rubbing my thigh.
“Well, Hon, I have to run,” Janice said. “I have a meeting with an architect in an hour. You have to meet with Ben and Wally too.” She continued to stroke my thigh.
Janice stood. I remained seated.
“Well, aren’t you going to stand up, Jack?”
“Stand up?” I said. “Sure, standing’s a good thing, but sometimes sitting is okay too. Say, did you hear the score of the Yankee game last night? Ever since Derek Jeter retired they’re not as good, but I still love the team. I wonder how the Cubs did too.”
Janice looked at me with a confused face. Oh God no, she sat back down.
“Why are you talking about the Yankees, Hon?”
“Oh, sometimes it’s good to think about baseball.”
“So I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch, Jack.”
“Janice.”
“Yes, Jack?”
“Please let go of my knee.”
Chapter 14
My name’s Wallace Burton, better known as Wally. I’m a reporter with The New York Times, a position I love. I think I was cut out for this job, having worked on my first newspaper in elementary school. I continued my budding career in journalism through high school and college, where I was the Editor of the Dartmouth Review.
After Dartmouth I was accepted to the Columbia School of Journalism, a lifelong dream. While at Columbia I met a man named Jack Thurber, a really sharp guy who had already written a couple of books.
Jack Thurber is now a name that is imprinted on my brain, a name I will never forget. As I reporter I always prided myself on my left-brained analytical skills. I didn’t take anything for the truth unless I had all the facts and drilled down under those facts. Like my new friend Bennie Weinberg, I consider myself a bullshit detector. More about Bennie later.
Jack has messed with the left side of my brain. My sometimes wise-ass analytical and cynical self has met a man who claims he traveled from the past into the present. He claims that he has to get back to the past to prevent a terrible disaster. Can you blame him? He was killed in that disaster. I’m getting a headache, something that often happens to me when things don’t make sense.
Jack showed up in m
y office a few days ago with Bennie Weinberg from the NYPD. It’s been about 15 years since I saw Jack. Like most people, I was sickened that Jack was killed in the
Thanksgiving Attacks of 2015. But he was in my office, not dead in my office, but very much alive. At first I thought it was a different guy, just a look-alike. Hey, a lot can change in 15 years. But he and Bennie convinced me to suspend my disbelief and accept the possibility that Jack was telling the truth. I agreed, not to buy into this time travel nonsense, but to give it some mental space and let the conversation roll. Jack is interested in the research I did on the Thanksgiving Attacks, research that seems to point some serious fingers at five possible conspirators. He wants to use my research to find enough evidence to go back to 2015 and stop the attacks from happening. This is doing nothing for my headache.
Jack and Bennie are starting to convince me that maybe Jack really did come here from another time. Jack, Ben, a lady named Janice, and myself have formed a group. We call ourselves the Thanksgiving Gang. I know I have some Tylenol around here someplace.
Janice is a beautiful woman, striking even. If I weren’t gay and in mourning from the loss of my partner, George, she would command my constant attention. She seems very attracted to Jack and that isn’t making him happy. He’s an old fashioned monogamous guy who is devoted to his wife. But Janice keeps trying to explain to him that his wife was killed in the Thanksgiving Attacks. But if Jack’s wife was killed, so was Jack because he was with her. Ouch, there goes my head again.
Working for The New York Times is my dream job. Although its reporting can be politically slanted, the Times is rightfully known as The Newspaper of Record. No matter what you think about the politics on the editorial page, you have to admit that the Times is a serious newspaper. And here I am, one of the senior reporters, working with a guy who says he’s a time traveler.
Maybe after this I can write for Marvel Comics.
Chapter 15
I needed some exercise, so I walked the 20 blocks from Bennie’s place to Wally’s office in The New York Times Building. It was a bright day with low humidity and the walk felt good.
As I crossed 53rd Street, a cop called out to me in a less than friendly tone.
“Hey, buddy, stop right there.”
I was about to discover a big difference between 2015 and 2017.
“Let’s see your papers.”
“My papers?” I felt like an extra in a 1940s war movie.
“Yes, your papers. Let’s see ‘em. Now,”
I handed him my wallet.
“It says that you live in Norfolk, Virginia. What’s your purpose in New York?”
I can’t believe he’s asking me about my purpose. Something told me to treat it lightly, so I just said, “I’m here to visit an old friend, Dr. Ben Weinberg. I’m staying at his place on East 86th Street.”
“What do you do for a living?”
I’m a newspaper reporter with the Washington Times.”
“Okay, move on.”
***
I walked into Wally’s office on the 20th floor. I couldn’t wait to tell them about my “papers” shakedown with the cop. They were both smiling at me.
“You guys happy to see me?”
“We’ve both been discussing Janice," said Bennie. "She seems to have the hots for you." They both laughed.
“And I have the hots for my beautiful wife, who I’d like to see real soon if we can get our work done.”
I told them about my experience with the cop.
“Yep,” said Wally, “ever since the attacks this country has changed. The president issued an executive order requiring everyone to carry identification and to submit to interrogation.”
“And you guys question my desire to go back and change history?”
“Remember Jack,” said Wally “we’re with you. Listen, Bennie has an idea, an important one. Shoot, Ben.”
“Simply put,” said Bennie, “we need some artillery and some law behind us. We started this newspaper article ruse to get through to Janice and it worked. But we’re involved in some very high level national security stuff. Also, you’re going to need some police training to prep you for what may happen on the other side of the wormhole. Paul Rizzuto, the head of the New York Field Office of the FBI Joint Terrorism Task Force, is a friend of mine. I suggest that we call and meet him ASAP. I think Janice should join us.”
“Hold on guys,” I said. “Let’s not forget about my mission, my only mission. Remember that? The Feds will just want to pump us for information and take off on their own. Do you think getting Jack Thurber back to a wormhole will be on their radar? They’ll just want to prevent another attack.”
“I know how these guys operate, Jack,” said Bennie. “Hell, I’ve been on loan to the FBI so many times over the years that I’m thinking of asking for a Federal pension. They’re good people, especially Paul Rizzuto. My hunch is that, with our combined knowledge, he’ll want to deputize us all as provisional agents.”
“So what do we tell him? That we’re working on a newspaper article, and no kidding, we won’t file it till we get the word from the FBI?”
“No, Jack. We’ve got to enroll Paul Rizzuto as the latest member of the Jack Thurber Time Travel Trust. You can’t bullshit Rizzuto, Jack, and that’s fine because you’re no bullshitter. Look, you’ve convinced hard-nosed guys like me and Wally that you’ve tripped through time. I believe that you convinced Janice too, although I think she’d travel with you anywhere. We can only keep this little secret contained just so tight. We need some big boys behind us. Besides, I’m sure the FBI has some stuff that we haven’t uncovered, and I think we’ve got stuff they don’t know about, especially Janice’s husband.”
I looked at Wally. He closed his eyes and nodded.
“Okay, Ben. Let’s make the call and get it rolling.”
Ben placed the call to Paul Rizzuto and explained the bare outline of what we’re up to, without the time travel details for now. Rizzuto wants to see us tomorrow at 10 AM. Ben then called
Janice to tell her that our meeting would be in Rizzuto’s office. Janice wanted to talk to me, (surprise, surprise) but I signaled a pantomime wave-off to Ben and he told her I had stepped out.
It was 6 PM, and we all agreed that we should get some rest for our meeting tomorrow. It would be a meeting that none of us will ever forget.
Chapter 16
The shrill tweet of a boatswain’s pipe sounded throughout the ship. “Abraham Lincoln, arriving.” This is the standard Navy way of announcing a dignitary, including that person’s badge of responsibility. For a commanding officer, it was the name of the ship. Ashley always had to stifle a laugh when she was announced as Abraham Lincoln.
***
At 1430, or 2:30 PM, weapons officer Joseph Monahan entered Ashley’s office for a planned meeting.
“How are you this afternoon, Joe? What’s on your mind?”
“Captain, I’m concerned about the humidity level in the ship’s magazine. With all of the fire power we have stored there I think it’s important that we keep the humidity low.”
“I didn’t know that was a problem, but I see your point. What do you suggest?”
“I’ve researched air conditioners, Captain, and I think I came up with one that will do the trick. It’s the type of unit that doesn’t vent to the outside, and we can install it right inside the main door to the magazine.”
“But are you concerned about static electricity becoming a problem?” Ashley asked.
“No, Ma’am. We have so many antistatic devices in these spaces it will never be a concern.”
“Well, let’s do it then. Put in a requisition and get it installed.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
Ashley was confused. She didn’t come right out and ask Monahan why he was bothering the commanding officer with such a minor subject. Normally, something like this would be passed through the executive officer, who would then bring it up to the captain in his regular daily repor
t. But then, there was something about Monahan that Ashley found a bit strange, nothing she could put her finger on, just an odd feeling.
Monahan immediately put in a requisition through the Supply Department. He noted on the form that he had picked out a specific unit and model, and he would personally arrange for its delivery and installation. The price was only $1,400 so it didn’t raise any concerns for the supply officer who reviewed all requisitions. Besides, the Weapons Department usually gets a lot of latitude from the supply people.
***
Ashley is having coffee with her friend Ike Bollinger, Captain of the USS Carl Vinson, which is in Norfolk taking on supplies. They’re in his office on the Vinson.
“Congratulations on your first carrier command, Ashley. How are you finding the job?”
“Ike, you’ve been at this a lot longer than me, so I don’t have to tell you it can be nerve wracking. There’s a million things to keep on top of, things that can break down or blow up. Sometimes I wish I was just one of the pilots. Flight school was the most exciting thing I've done in the Navy. But shortly after I got my wings, I was given command of the Lincoln. I appreciate you meeting with me, Ike. I need all the guidance I can get.”
“Ashley, my friend, you know that you can always get in touch and bounce things off me. Anything in particular that’s bugging you?”
“Yeah, one weird thing. It’s probably nothing, but I just don’t understand it. My weapons officer asked to meet with me about putting a self-contained air conditioner in the magazine. He said he was concerned about humidity. I told him to go ahead, but he seems to be solving a problem that doesn’t exist. Does it make sense to you?”
Box Set - The Time Magnet Series Page 31
