by Fred Holmes
The three men lowered their voices and discussed the need to escape this hell hole. It was early September. Although they had only been there a short time, seeing the effect the conditions had on prisoners, like the poor guy suffering from the runs, reaffirmed their desire to escape.
They huddled together and eventually decided on a plan: dig a tunnel from the second row of tents on the south side of the prison, next to the city streets. The tent they picked to start the tunnel in was the one next to them. It had previously been empty, now occupied by Rummy. The three Confederates felt that this might work better as the guards didn’t pay much attention to the sick ones, especially the ones with diarrhea or “quick step.”
They started the tunnel by cutting a circle in the thick sod about a yard in diameter. They set the intact sod aside, for they knew it would prove to be important to their success.
Before they could start digging the horizontal shaft, they had to know the distance from the tent to the wall. To determine this without arousing the guard’s suspicion, they threw stones at the wall, giving the illusion of a game. After watching them for about three hours, the guard became careless, and Putegnat had time to attach a thread and throw the stone at the wall. They marked the thread and pulled it back to the tent and measured it at sixty-eight feet in length
Working with pocket knives at first was slow, and they soon found that they couldn’t get much work done after “Tattoo,” or curfew, so they knew they’d need to work during the day.
At night the light from the kerosene lamps prevented the tunnelers from concealing the dirt and carrying it off. They had access to shovels, but they were noisy and difficult to hide, so they returned to their jackknives.
To remove the dirt without arousing suspicion, the three prisoners made little sacks from an extra shirt owned by Putegnat. Each sack held about a quart of dirt. The prison walls extended far enough out to enclose a part of Foster’s Pond. The prisoners built the prison privies over the pond, and the tunnelers emptied their little bags into the privies. From there the dirt leeched into the pond.
It became apparent that they’d need more help to speed up the digging. Traweek pulled out his Bible and put it in front of Maul and Putegnat.
“First, we all have to swear our lives on this Bible that we’ll keep this a secret.”
They all swore on the Bible. “I heard the other prisoners are digging at least twenty tunnels,” said Maul.
“That’s why anyone who joins us has to swear on this Bible!” Traweek said.
“What are we going to do if they tell?” asked Putegnat.
“Kill em!” said Traweek. “It’ll only take one. We gotta mean business if we’re going to tunnel outta here. And we need more help. The longer we take, the greater the chance of discovery.”
“Uh, can I help?” said Rummy, peeking out of his tent. He was excited at the prospect of getting out of the prison.
“Well, look who’s alive,” said Traweek. “Dang, Rummy! For a bit, we thought you’d crossed over. Feeling better? You been awake long?”
“Well, probably long enough,” said Rummy. “So, I need to take the pledge. I’ll be glad to help. I’ve got no choice. I’ll die in here. We all will. You know, I’m not gonna be much help digging that hole,” said Rummy. “I’m old and pretty weak. What I can do is take care of the food and water.
“The water needs to be boiled to remove pathogens and avoid sickness, and the food has to be cooked well for disinfection and to aid digestion. Maybe I can scrounge up some extra rations. It’ll take a lot more grub to keep you fellows digging. What do you think?”
“Well, I don’t understand everything he just said, but if he can keep us digging, it’ll be worth an extra turn in the hole.”
Putegnat and Maul agreed. In the next few days, they swore in Frank Saurine, and S.C. “Cyclops” Malone. These additions made six Confederates, after Rummy joined as the fourth. Over the next few days, they added William Templin, Glenn Shelton, Barry Benson, J. P. “Parson” Scruggs. They were all given the pledge, and work on the tunnel moved right along.
After removal of the circle of sod, they dug straight down for six feet. Then, they dug the tunnel horizontally in a direct line toward a stairway on the outside of the wall.
So far, they had received reliable information about the Yankees’ scheduled inspections that required them to stack tents. To hide the tunnel for inspection, they took planks from the sidewalk and put them in the hole about three feet down. Then they filled the hole with dirt close to the top. Putting the dirt on top of the boards muffled the sound should anyone stomp on the grass over the hole. They left just enough room to tamp the sod back in place, disguising the tunnel entry. From the outside, the entry looked like just another patch of dirt and grass.
The food they received wasn’t enough for them to perform their grueling work, so Traweek enlisted Parson Scruggs to smuggle them more. He was the sergeant in charge of their sick ward and, as such, had free access to the cook room and kept Rummy supplied with food. Rummy made sure the food didn’t spoil and kept everything clean. His diligence maintained the tunnelers’ health and kept them working.
About this time, prison authorities began building seventeen new hospitals. Traweek and Putegnat decided hospital number two was so close to the fence that they could dig out an entirely new escape hole in one night. They did it without telling the others and prepared to tell the rest of the tunnelers that they’d make their escape in the morning.
Early the next morning, however, disaster struck when the prison guards found the tunnels and busted them. Surprisingly, they missed the original tunnel, so Traweek and Putegnat went back to work on the only remaining tunnel. It was their last chance to escape
One day, when Traweek came out to take a break from tunneling, five Yankee guards walked up to him and asked for Traweek by name. He acknowledged that he was such, and they told him that Major Colt wanted to see him before marching him off toward their headquarters. Rummy watched the whole thing.
“Think they’ll ask him about the tunnel?” Rummy asked, turning to John Putegnat.
“Sure.”
“What happens if he talks?”
“If we have to, we’ll kill him. But truth is, we won’t have to. He’s smarter than all these bums. He’s already stuck a list in his shoe with fake names and names of dead ones on it. They ain’t professional guards, they ain’t fit to carry a rifle. They’ve probably deserted once already. You ain’t dealing with the pick o’ the litter here. Why, half the names on that list have already been buried and Wash figgers the rest will be soon. By the time the live ones come to, we’ll be long gone.”
Chapter 5
ERIK LEANED over the shabby card table. “It’s going to take all our talents to boost this RTSL system. It’s risky. Beasley is the same dude who kept us out of Southern Psychiatric when we tried to grab those patient records.”
Bunny looked at Dee. “Right,” she said. “I had to put the squeeze on the head doctor to get them in the end.”
“That was one of our first deals,” Dee said. He laughed. “We did it too cheap. Wouldn’t do it for 20k now.”
Erik lit up a cigar and the other two cringed as the strong smoke billowed out from the Cuban. “We’ve learned since then. Our code-breaking systems are fast and bug-free. But this time-travel company is very advanced. We’ll need some physical items as well as the formulas. Complicated job.”
“What do you mean?” Bunny asked.
“RTSL works by overlaying the DNA from the ancient subject onto the DNA from the modern subject. Then it replicates the overlaid codes to the rest of the cells.” “For example,” Eric continued, “suppose we want to be in Gettysburg on July 2, 1863. We program the date and location, RTSL takes some DNA containing that date and time, from someone that was there at that time, and lays it over the the time traveler’s DNA, say Bunny’s. Dyna-Tyme keeps all their ancient DNA locked away. So not only do we need access to the second-floor lab to g
rab the RTSL system itself, but we also need to enter the storage room for the ancient DNA. They use a DNA identification system plus a personal PIN.
“One trip should suffice. We only need the ancient DNA, and to get it, we need valid DNA of someone with access and the matching PIN to bypass their ID system. All we lack is the ancient DNA and the RNA that accompanies it.”
“Go over RNA again, please?” Bunny asked.
“There are two factors. DNA that stores the cellular instructions and RNA that carries out the instructions. It’s no problem for the injectables as the RNA and DNA are already mixed in a vial. There’s no need to keep them separate because with the injectables, we want the time travel to start as soon as injection enters the human body. RTSL overlays the modern with the ancient and then applies the RNA so the cells can take the instructions immediately.
“With the capsules, it’s different as we don’t want to activate the RTSL until later. So, the capsules need to have two compartments. One for the DNA and one for the RNA. The RNA and DNA don’t mix until the capsule’s crushed, then RTSL sends its instructions regarding time and place to all cells, and the transfer takes place. It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the layman version.”
“Our client wants to actually time travel themselves, don’t they? What about the capsules that we have to carry into the past?” Dee asked. “Isn’t there dental work and injections necessary to carry the capsules back and forth?”
“Our client is very sophisticated. They only need the formulas for the RTSL and the ancient DNA, and they claim they can take it from there. Making teeth that can be hollowed out and used to store the tiny capsules is well within the capacity of our clients’ dentists. They have expert nano-technicians that can overlay the DNA. I already have the formulas and instruction set. You and Bunny need to get the log-in DNA and the matching PIN to gain access to the storage room and obtain the ancient DNA. After we accomplish that, we just pick up the money … all half million of it.”
Dee asked, “Why can’t our client obtain their own ancient DNA?”
Erik lay the now dead Havana in the large glass ashtray. “First they have to find a person or, in the case of the Civil War, a corpse that’s well preserved and has viable DNA. Good specimens are not easy to find. Dyna-Tyme has accumulated quite a stash of ancient DNA from many eras. As long as we can steal it, they prefer to pay us.”
“Well let’s roll, then,” Bunny said. What’s the plan?”‘
“I’ve got Beasley busy trying to keep me out of their system. In a few more attempts, he’ll think he’s winning. Then I’ll pack him full of information at the firewall while I sneak around him and copy the files. In the meantime, you two will be at the Beernersville Country Club. Mike likes to unwind there on his way home. He’ll be celebrating his success at keeping me out of the system. Or so he’ll think. You and Dee will play the wife and incensed husband, and you know what to do from there.”
They huddled over the card table, going over the details designed to entrap Beasley and secure entry into Dyna-Tyme. Acquiring the ancient DNA would complete RTSL and make it operable and immensely saleable.
“A piece of cake!” Bunny said excitedly. “I love these capers!”
“Keep your eye on the prize, Wonder Woman,” Dee cautioned.
* * * * *
Mike eased up to the bar at the Beernersville Country Club during Happy Hour and ordered Bitter, an imported English beer. He couldn’t understand why they called it that, though, as it had a smooth, beery taste that didn’t come close to bitter. He took a long pull and thought, that hit the spot.
About halfway through his glass, a spat broke out a couple of bar stools from him. A tall Indian man was giving a short black-haired girl a hard time. He seemed drunk and kept calling her names, and they weren’t complimentary. She was dishing it out about as good as she was getting, commenting on his illegitimate parentage and lack of a father figure. That seemed to do it; the Indian backhanded her and she went spinning down the bar, crashing into Mike. Her momentum knocked him off the stool where he and the girl landed in a heap, both of them doused with his pint of Bitter.
The Indian tried to compose himself, though he still screamed, “I warned you that if I caught you messing around again, I was going to fix you. I’m going out to my car, getting my gun, and then I’m going to kill you.” He stalked out of the bar.
Mike helped the girl to her feet, and the bartender tossed him a towel. She wiped her face and hands, shaking so hard she could barely stand up.
“He’ll do it,” she said. “He’ll kill me!” She sobbed and leaned against Mike. He couldn’t help feeling her firm body pressed against him, or smelling her expensive perfume.
“No he won’t. He’s just bluffing.”
“Oh no, he means it. Look at what he did to me two days ago.” She turned and tilted her head, at the same time batting her eyes ever so slightly. He could see the bruise under her left eye.
She was extremely beautiful. He shook it off, remembering that he had a wife and two boys at home.
“Where’s your car?”
“He’s got it. We were just passing through on our way to Atlanta. I told him not to drink vodka. He gets vodkerized and turns mean. He’s an Indian, and they can’t drink, you know.”
“Where are you staying?”
“The Sleepy Tyme Motel, just down the road. Do you think you could give me a ride? It’s less than a mile. I could probably walk, but I’m a little woozy.”
“Wait here, and I’ll get my car.”
When he pulled up, she was waiting with a couple of open beers.
“The bartender likes me. Bitter, wasn’t it?”
“Yep, Bitter it was.”
By the time they pulled up to the motel, he felt sleepy.
“Wow, that’s strong,” Mike said. “I can hardly hold my head up.” He staggered into her room and collapsed on the bed.
He awoke to find himself naked on the bed with the similarly disrobed girl hiding much of her nudity behind a pillow. The Indian sat on the chair taking photos. Mike grabbed a pillow and tried to hide, as well.
“I have all the photos I need,” the Indian said. “I also have your DNA.” He held up three baggies with swabs in them. “The photos will keep your mouth shut, or your wife will receive a package in the mail.”
“This looks like blackmail!”
“No, it’s just a business arrangement. Call it protection. No one will know a thing … if you cooperate.”
Just then, there was a knock on the door.
“Turn down service,” Dee said, irritated. “I told them no interruptions.”
* * * * *
Dee opened the door, and before he could react, the door was pushed in, followed by Lida Mitushi, Vinnie Ferragamo, and Bruno Lipinski. Vinnie had a pistol leveled at Dee.
Vinnie was a character straight out of a detective magazine, obviously on the criminal side. A large round head half again the size of a bowling ball, mounted on a six-foot-three, two-hundred-eighty-pound torso of solid muscle. His face reflected a blank gaze, with eyes that took in everything and revealed nothing.
If there was a contest of stoicism, one would be hard pressed picking the champ between Vinnie and Dee, each a master of the inscrutable stare. Vinnie’s advantage in this confrontation was the snub-nosed .38 caliber that fit naturally in his right hand, and was pointed directly at Dee’s belly button.
Dee and Bunny stood up, and she quickly pulled on some clothes.
“So what’s the deal?” said Dee.
“Well, Dee,” Lida said. “You seem pretty interested in this time travel stuff. So, we have a proposition for you. We’ll go over the details later.”
Dee was tempted to make a move, but he had a healthy respect for the gun that Vinnie pointed at him, especially when he didn’t have one himself. He kept his eyes on the big Italian and bided his time.
“So this must be DeWayne Sixkiller,” Vinnie goaded. “I’ve heard you
were pretty scary. ‘Sixkiller’s a pretty neat name. It might be the scariest thing about you. Bruno, bring the girl over here. Bunny, isn’t it?”
Bruno moved toward Bunny, and she flailed her arms at him. Dee shifted in his chair and turned his attention to Bruno.
Vinnie pointed the gun directly at Dee. “No. No! Stay calm, Injun, or I’ll hafta send you back to the reservation in a pine box.”
Bruno grabbed Bunny with one hand and threw her face down on the bed. With one huge knee, he immobilized her. He pulled out two pairs of handcuffs, and then he cuffed her hands behind her back and bound her feet together. Vinnie pulled out a couple more sets of cuffs and nodded toward Dee. Bruno shackled him as well. Mike sat on the bed, mouth dropped open. It slammed shut. He picked up the photos, put on his clothes, and hurried out.
Lida called after him, “Mike, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
Lida turned to Vinnie and Bruno. “Good work boys. Can we settle up later? I rented an entire wing at Legacy Woods. We’ll put these two in their rooms and still have a suite for you. Tomorrow, we’ll do a little persuading with these two.” After Mike left, Lida turned to Dee. “Now you can give me the DNA that you swabbed from Mike. Unlock the handcuffs, Vinnie. Be careful.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Dee,” said Lida. “Don’t make me have Vinnie frisk you. Hand it over.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the plastic bag with the swab. “Here,” said Dee. “But it won’t do any good without the PIN to match.”
“Give me the other one,” said Lida. “You don’t do anything without a backup.”
He pulled out the second bag.
“Shall I have Vinnie search you, or is that all?” He didn’t say a word.
Vinnie got up out of his chair.
He pulled out the third bag.
“That’s a good boy. Now for the PIN.”
