“I’m going to defer to my Pulitzer Prize winning hubby here to handle that question, Mr. Secretary.”
“Secretary Stimson, you’ve hit upon the question that plagues us as much, or maybe even more, than you. If we know our history, why is it changing as we’re here going through it? The only explanation is the strange phenomenon of time travel itself. A wormhole, or time portal, as we’ve discussed it, is a serious mathematical possibility. It derives from a concept called the Einstein-Rosen Bridge. It won’t be named a wormhole until 1957, but its theory has been in place since the 1920s. Without getting into the mathematics of it, the theory is that a wormhole is like a funnel through two dimensions of time, two different universes so to speak. It’s like a tear through the dimension of time itself. How many alternate universes are there? The person who can figure that one out hasn’t been born yet, now or in 2016. So the three of us slipped through a wormhole and wound up here. But exactly what is this thing that we call ‘here’? It isn’t the 1941 that we knew from history. We’re in a universe we don’t understand. I don’t know if that clarifies things or makes them more complicated, but that’s where we are, as confused as you.”
“I’d like to get specific, folks,” said Stimson, “as specific as I can get. You have told us that the Japanese will launch a sneak attack on our Navy base at Pearl Harbor on December 7 of this year, about 10 months from now. Given your own doubts about your knowledge of the history of 1941 and the next few years, are you willing to make that prediction?”
“Sir,” said Jack, “I think that question is best answered by a senior military person.”
Jack nodded to me. I’m glad he wore my favorite after shave this morning. Fortunately he packed it into his overnight bag on our time travel flight. The aroma reminds me of the first time we met. It always comforts me. Now where was I?
“I, for one, am going to predict the attack of December 7, 1941. The first wave of aircraft will hit at 0748 or 7:48 AM. 353 bombers, fighters and torpedo planes will attack in two waves. They were launched from six Japanese aircraft carriers. All eight of our battleships will sustain heavy damage, and four will sink. Six will be repaired and will later return to the fleet. Fortunately, none of our carriers were at Pearl when it was attacked.”
“So that’s my prediction,” I continued, “and here’s what we need to do. We have to surround the Japanese force with submarines and attack with torpedoes. Secondly, all aircraft at Pearl Harbor should be in the air. Further, we need to have four carrier task forces to confront the Japanese fleet, with dive bomb and torpedo attacks. I’m not going to recommend that we move the battleships and cruisers from Pearl. If some Japanese bombers get through, it’s better to have a ship sunk in the shallow waters of Pearl Harbor than in the middle of the Pacific. My husband, Mr. Encyclopedia here, can give you a close idea of where the Japanese fleet will be that morning. The war with Japan should be over within two hours. The Japanese won’t know what hit them. If I’m wrong, and if the history we know does not unfold, we will waste some oil with our ships steaming and our sailors will get some good practice.”
Stimson turned to Donovan. “Bill, we’ve just heard from an admiral, a tough, smart, fighting admiral.”
Well, that was a nice compliment I thought. But actually, I’m just an admiral who reads history.
Chapter 68
“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, this is Shepard Smith for Fox News. I wish I had something better to report on the missing plane that carried Admiral Ashley Patterson and her husband Jack Thurber. As you know the plane has been officially missing since it failed to arrive on schedule at LaGuardia Airport in New York City this morning. A vast air and sea rescue effort is going on at this time. We have with us today Captain Phil Keith, a retired Navy fighter pilot.
“Good afternoon, Captain Keith, and thank you for joining us. Can you please give us your take on this incident, which is becoming increasingly worrisome?
“Worrisome is a good word, Shepard. In all of my years in the Navy, most of which have been on aircraft carriers, I haven’t seen one like this. What bothers me is that the escort pilots saw no parachutes or floating debris. Admiral Patterson’s plane was there one minute and was gone the next. But I’m not one to talk negatively. I just hope and pray that soon we’ll see a raft in the ocean, and Admiral Patterson and her husband will be in it. For now, prayer is a good idea.
“There you have it folks, from a man who knows what he’s talking about. We still have to wait, and yes, pray. The aircraft has been missing for one hour. In other news...”
Chapter 69
Secretary of War Stimson escorted Ashley, Jack, and Buster to the door. They exchanged handshakes and pleasantries. Donovan stayed behind for a planned three days in Washington.
“I still have a difficult time understanding where you folks come from,” said Stimson, “but I just want you all to know that I’m happy you’re on our side. We shall meet again soon.”
He gestured to Donovan to sit. Stimson sat directly across from Donovan, not at the head of the table.
“Goddammit, Bill, this nonsense is going to end. It’s going to end right now.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Secretary, but what is going to end?”
“Call me Hank, for Chrissake. We’re alone. What’s going to end is our ridiculous policy of a segregated military. That woman, Ashley Patterson, is one of the smartest, most articulate naval officers I’ve ever met. What she told us about naval tactics could only have come from an admiral. If we accept this time travel story, and frankly I don’t have an alternate explanation, we’ve just seen the progress that’s in store for our country. And I’ll be goddamed if we wait for 75 years for an Ashley Patterson to show up. Some of the finest people I’ve met in all of our branches are colored. But they’re segregated into their own units, away from white servicemen. Why? Can you give me one reason why?”
“No, Hank, I can’t. Admiral Patterson is an amazing woman. You and I agree, and I know the President does as well. So you’re looking to integrate the armed forces? To the extent I have anything to say in the matter, Hank, I’m behind you 100 percent.”
“I’ve just told my assistant to arrange a meeting between Roosevelt and me. I have to bring him up to date on the ideas we’ve heard today, and ‘connect a few dots’ for him. I’m also going to tell him that I want the military desegregated immediately. Roosevelt listens to me, and I don’t think he’ll disagree, especially if the First Lady has anything to say about it. And Eleanor always has something to say.”
Chapter 70
Buster, Jack and I sat at a coffee shop at the Washington-Hoover Airport. One thing hasn’t changed from 1941 to 2016 – waiting for flights.
Buster’s volunteering to go underground has both Jack and I concerned. We’ve taken to thinking of Buster as a brother, a close brother. He’s one of the smartest, if not the smartest operatives I’ve ever seen in action. He’s also one of the bravest men I’ve ever met, and Jack agrees. But besides his professional credentials, he’s also a good man and a good friend. And we’re worried about him.
“Buster,” said Jack, “we’ve been with you on some of the scariest operations the CIA has ever pulled off. We joke about you as ‘Buster the Action Figure.’ But I hope you realize something. In 2016 you had a Rolodex the size of a phone booth. You had so many contacts that the answer to most of your questions was a phone call away. Here in 1941, you don’t know anybody, and nobody knows you. You’re a lone spook. You don’t even have your favorite device, a cell phone, not that it would do you any good because you have no contacts. How the hell are you just going to crawl inside a secretive organization and become one of the boys?”
“I hope you guys understand that I can’t answer that question. I’m about to go into deep spy mode, and the ‘need to know’ is a critical doctrine. You guys don’t want to be burdened with what I’m doing. Let me and Donovan worry about that.”
“You realize,” I said, “that you’re cut
off from bagels and coffee at our house until further notice.”
Buster laughed, because he knew I meant it as a joke. He’s right. A spy in deep cover needs to be as anonymous as possible.
“Please watch your ass Buster,” I said. “We love you – and our country needs you.”
Chapter 71
I am Ahmad Youseff, a warrior for Allah, a part of the Muslim Brotherhood, formed in 1928 in Egypt where I grew up. I have a purpose in life – to convert infidels to Islam or to kill them.
I’m sitting in a cafe in Chicago with my brother and fellow holy warrior Mohammed Yuri. We are in the back of the cafe sipping strong coffee. No other diners are within earshot, so we are able to speak freely.
“Ahmad,” said Mohammed Yuri, “are you pleased with the way our plans have been carried out so far?”
“Yes, my brother, I am. Soon we will see the heathens at each other’s throats. The Americans, I’m sure, are convinced that the Empire State Building and the Capitol Building are the work of Germany. Roosevelt wants war, and we are giving him good reasons to declare it. The thoughts of infidels killing each other in vast numbers makes me smile. While they fight, Hitler will take care of the Jews. Of that I am certain. He probably thinks the Jews are behind all of this anyway. Soon, maybe 50 or 100 years, a new caliphate will arise on earth, a pure government blessed by Allah. Although we may not live to see it, our job is to begin to make it happen.”
“Ahmad, I am concerned about the eight men who were captured in the Empire State Building matter. I’m sure they are being tortured for information at this moment.”
“Fear not, my friend. They know nothing, other than the placing of the bombs. But do you think your brother would leave such an important matter unattended to?”
“What do you mean, Ahmad?”
“By tomorrow, all eight will be dead. The plan has been set in motion.”
“May Allah bring you blessings, my friend. I should have known that you always think many moves ahead. That’s why I cannot beat you in chess.”
“Meet me here again tomorrow, Mohammed. Same time. I want to begin to show you the plans for the future, the near future.”
Chapter 72
“Empire State Building Bombing Suspects Murdered in Prison”
The New York Times
Monday, February 3, 1941
The eight suspected conspirators accused of bombing the Empire State Building were murdered yesterday morning in their prison cells at Rikers Island, New York City. The cause of death of each of the men was a gunshot wound to the head. The suspects had undergone extensive interrogation by FBI officials since the destruction of the Empire State Building on November 16, 1940. All of the suspects stated that they were paid large sums of money by an unknown source.
The security guards responsible for each of the cells have been detained for questioning.
This news comes just days after the destruction of the Capitol Building in Washington when a commercial air liner crashed into the Capitol Dome. No suspects in that case have been arrested.
Efforts by the New York Times to obtain a statement from the FBI have been unsuccessful.
Chapter 73
Tuesday, February 4, 1941 was cold as hell, with a temperature not expected to top 10 degrees. Why do people say “cold as hell?” Isn’t hell supposed to be hot? Sometimes I speculate about the stupidest things when I’m waking up. I usually arise at 5:30 AM, but the covers just felt too warm and I figured I’d catch a few more winks. Jack was already up. The steam radiators in our bedroom let off a comforting hissing noise and an occasional clank. Five more minutes, I thought.
I heard the floor squeak, opened my eyes and saw Jack tip toeing into the room carrying a tray, with coffee, some fresh fruit, and a bud vase with a fresh cut flower from the solarium. Jack’s unrelenting sweetness amazes me. It isn’t even Valentine’s Day.
He set the tray on the table next to the bed, leaned over and kissed me. When I heard him coming I had popped a breath mint into my mouth. Never waste a kiss from my Jack. We hugged for a while as we always do.
“I think you want to see today’s headline,” he said.
Shit, I thought. Why spoil such a wonderful moment with more news about the mayhem in the world. Jack handed me The New York Times.
“Armed Forces to be Racially Integrated Immediately - Historic Announcement from President Roosevelt”
The New York Times
Tuesday, February 4, 1941
This morning President Roosevelt announced from the Oval Office a major policy shift for our nation’s armed forces. All branches of the military will no longer have “colored” and “white” units, but will be a seamless force without regard to race. When asked about the timeline for carrying out his decision, Roosevelt used one word: “immediately.”
According to his statement, the President said that he came to his decision after recent meetings, especially with Secretary of War Stimson yesterday. He said that Stimson made the recommendation.
When asked for comment, Stimson said, “I couldn’t be more pleased with the president’s decision. Our nation has an enormous depth of talent and character in our colored men and women. It’s time to abandon a practice we never should have followed in the first place.” When asked about the timing of his decision, Stimson said he came to the conclusion last Friday after a meeting. He didn’t say who attended the meeting.
***
Jack held my face, looked at me with his gorgeous eyes, and said, “You’ve done it again, hon. You’ve made history.”
I tried to hold it in, but it didn’t work. I cried. We held each other for a few minutes, savoring our emotions.
“Hey,” I said. “It’s time for me to get out of bed. Something tells me that today is going to be a great day.”
The phone rang. It was 9 AM.
“Ashley, it’s Ike Tanner. There’s somebody in my office who would like to meet you. Wear your service dress blues with decorations,” he whispered.
Chapter 74
Ike almost knocked down the door as I approached his office. He looked at my uniform up and down, and picked a piece of lint off my collar.
“Something tells me this is important, Ashley,” he said, before he almost dragged me into his office.
“Admiral Patterson, it’s my honor to introduce Frank Knox, Secretary of the Navy.”
“I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you, admiral. Charlie Edison, my predecessor, told me all about you, as did President Roosevelt, and especially War Secretary Stimson. I know you’ve heard this before, but everyone is somewhat befuddled about your time travel story. But at the same time, everyone is so impressed with you, we’re working on the impossible assumption that your story is true.”
“Thank you for your frankness, Mr. Secretary, and yes, the story is true.”
“Of course, admiral, you have heard the President’s announcement about the integration of the armed forces. I understand from my friend Hank Stimson that you may have had everything to do with the decision.”
“It was the most wonderful news I’ve heard in a long time, sir. Where I come from, the year 2016, the President of the United States is a black man, or colored if you will. We have had two black Secretaries of State, one of whom was a woman. We’ve also had countless generals, admirals, including women admirals, who were black. I’m not the first, just the youngest. Yes, it was wonderful news. It brought me closer to the reality that I know.”
“And it’s a reality that we’ll all get to know. Please take me at my word, admiral, but President Roosevelt’s announcement was received with a lot of cheering throughout the armed forces, both white and colored. I think we all shared a nagging embarrassment about our backwardness. I know I did.”
“Admiral Patterson, I will get right to the point. The President sees you as a key in the coming integration, which has already begun on his orders. He knew that he would appoint you to an important position, but he doesn’t want you to be seen as a
ceremonial figurehead. He would tell you what I’m about to say in person, but he had to be in England for an important conference. So, Admiral Patterson, on the authority of the President of the United States, I hereby appoint you as the commanding officer of Carrier Division Three, stationed in Norfolk, Virginia. The division consists of an aircraft carrier, two cruisers and a destroyer squadron. Your flagship will be the USS Wasp.”
“Sir, to say that I’m honored and flattered would be a vast overstatement. But the president told me he wanted me to work on reengineering the F-18 to see if it can be duplicated.”
Knox chuckled. “Admiral, our president sometimes gets carried away with impossible schemes. You’re relieved of that job.”
Thank God, I thought.
“May I express some concerns, sir?”
“Of course, admiral.”
“My background, including sea and combat operations, all occurred (will occur?) 75 years from now. (I didn’t mention my combat experiences in 1861). Other than from general reading, I know little about the capabilities of ships and aircraft in 1941.”
“You just said the magic word, Admiral, ‘capabilities.’ All you need to learn are just that, capabilities. You already possess the most important distinctions, character and leadership. Where you come from, maritime technology no doubt makes our fleet look like sailing ships. But all you need to know is what your ships are capable of. Carrier Division Three isn’t scheduled to put to sea for four months, plenty of time for you to acquaint yourself with your command.”
Box Set - The Time Magnet Series Page 70
