Gunslinger

Chapter 4

Once everyone was ready, the General led them to the waiting limo, and the group was whisked back across the Potomac. A few minutes later, they entered Arlington Cemetery and rode to the site where Colonel Mike McKinsey’s ashes were to be placed. Kevin was somewhat surprised to find a platform had been erected, and chairs placed on and in front of it.

The party exited the limo and a Captain led the Pickneys to some roped off seats in the front row. General Scott, himself, pushed Kevin’s wheel chair up a ramp and onto the platform.

Kevin looked out at the seats in front, as well as the seats on the platform. He could not imagine so many people coming to honor his dad. As the other seats began to be filled, several high ranking officers from the Pentagon took up places on the platform. General Scott brought three gentlemen over and introduced them to Kevin. In the introduction, Kevin learned they were the two Senators from Alabama and the Congressman from his District.

One of the Senators leaned over and said, “Nice tie. War Eagle!’

Kevin returned the Senator’s smile and responded “War Eagle. I just regret I’ll never be able to wear an orange and blue jersey.”

“Kevin, I saw that game in Birmingham, and I have say I regret the same thing. I’ve never seen a performance like that.”

The other Senator added, “I didn’t see the game, but I have sure seen the replay. I have to agree with my esteemed colleague, it was an outstanding game. Is the rumor I heard true that you personally engineered the turn-a-round?”

“Sir, I might have made a few suggestions, but only because I had been taught well by some very good coaches.”

“Son. Your humility is honorable, but from what I heard, you literally took over the team.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I did not win the game by myself. Everyone on the team contributed, even those who did not actually get into the game. As my father always taught me, there is no ‘I’ in the word: team.”

Before anything else could be said, the color guard came front and center, and the band struck up ‘Hail to the Chief.’ After the first bars, the President stepped up on the platform and approached the podium. Kevin was totally stunned, not having seen him arrive.

For the next few minutes, the leader of the most powerful country in the world spoke about Colonel Mike McKinsey as if he had known him personally. As Kevin thought about it, maybe he had.

Then in the first of several surprises, Kevin was called forth and introduced to the audience. General Scott again pushed the wheel chair himself.

The President reminded the audience of the football game that many had seen from the television replay. He listed Kevin’s accomplishments and personally congratulated him for his victory and expressed his sorrow for the young man’s loss. In his speech, the President also acknowledged that Kevin’s dad, girlfriend and football future had been destroyed by a deliberate terrorist action.

When the president completed his short speech, a lone piper stood on the hillside, playing a haunting version of Amazing Grace. He was followed by a single bugler who played Taps. While the bugle’s sound hung like a fog over the cemetery, the honor guard fired their guns in a final salute.

After the last volley was fired, the President presented Kevin with two folded flags. One was the American flag that had been draped over the mock coffin that carried Mike McKinsey’s ashes, and the other was a single white star on a red field. Kevin’s dad was being buried as a general.

There were other speakers that afternoon, but Kevin was in such a daze that none of it penetrated. Finally, the young man slumped over in his wheel chair, and Malcolm Scott and two secret service men raced to his side. Moments later, Kevin was loaded aboard the Presidential helicopter and rushed to Walter Reed Hospital.

It was several hours later before Kevin awoke to find himself back in a hospital room. At first, he thought it had all been a dream, but then he realized how many of the hospital personnel were in Army uniforms.

Shortly after he opened his eyes, an attractive nurse came in to check on him. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with strawberry blond hair, blue eyes, and a cute button nose.”

“Are you feeling better?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure what happened to me.”

“From what we were told, you passed out at your father’s funeral and were rushed here in the President’s helicopter. Your vital signs are good, are you hurting anywhere?”

“No, Ma’am. I suspect my body was overloaded with emotions and just shut down. These have been a hard few days for me.”

“That can happen. Is there anything you need?”

“How about a coke on ice and some food. I haven’t had anything but a glass of juice and a piece of toast all day.”

“Then no wonder you passed out. Your lack of food, aggravated by the emotional overload, probably caused you blood sugar to drop.”

“But I’m not diabetic. At least, I don’t think I am.”

“You don’t have to be diabetic to have your blood sugar drop suddenly. As I said, the lack of food and the emotional strain could have easily pushed you over the edge. I’ll check with your doctor and try to get you some food as quickly as I can.”

“Thanks, I would appreciate it. In the meantime, I guess I’ll stare at the ‘idiot box’ for a bit.”

“It doesn’t sound like you think much of television.”

“Actually, I’d rather curl up with a good book.”

The nurse grinned and said, “Gee, I didn’t know they still made those.”

“Well, as I’ve said before, I was probably born a hundred years too late.”

The nurse shrugged at his answer, not really knowing how to respond. As she headed out the door, Kevin turned on the television. After channel surfing for a few minutes and getting caught up on the news headlines, he found an old Glenn Ford western about a shopkeeper who was running from his reputation of being a fast gun.

He had barely gotten into the movie, when the nurse reappeared with a small digital device.

“I need to see your finger for a moment. Doctor Hannan wants me to test your blood sugar before he prescribes a diet for you.”

Taking Kevin’s hand, she pricked his finger with the device and read the display.

“Yep, I was right. Your blood sugar is really low. I’ll be back in a few minutes with something to give you a quick boost. As soon as possible, I’ll try to get you something more substantial.”

Kevin returned to the movie, but before the next commercial, the nurse returned with a Coke, a candy bar and a big piece of carrot cake.

“I hope you like carrot cake,” she said. “One of the nurses brought it in for our shift. Since she makes a real sweet icing, I thought it might help get your sugar up. Also, the doctor has approved a normal diet, as your other blood tests have not shown any problems. The problem is that it’s still more than three hours before the next meal is to be served. I’ll see what I can do to get you something more quickly.”

Having taken a couple of bites of cake, Kevin said, “I would appreciate it. Also, please tell who ever made this cake, that it’s delicious. It tastes like the ones my mother used to make.”

“Used to make?”

“Yes Ma’am. She died of cancer more than eight years ago.”

The nurse compassionately exclaimed, “And you were at your father’s funeral today when you passed out! No wonder your emotions are out of whack.”

“Actually, there’s a lot more to it than that, but I don’t want to bore you with my problems.”

Sensing his emotional pain, she replied, “Kevin, I’m a good listener.”

“Well, the same explosion that killed my father, also killed my future wife and destroyed my football career.”

Kevin could see the emotional struggle in her face as she exclaimed “Oh! You’re the kid from Alabama all the male orderlies have been talking about. I’m sorry I didn’t connect the dots, but I’m not much of a sports fan. I’ll pass this information on to the doctor. The emotional stress of all this has to have affected your body’s systems.”

The nurse reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze before she turned and left the room. She had been trying to hide it, but Kevin had noticed the tears in her eyes. He instinctively knew she had had to leave to keep from openly crying… crying for him and his losses. Maybe there were still some good people in this world, after all.

Once she had left, Kevin tried to turn his attention back to the movie. After a few minutes, he found he just couldn’t get into it. After surfing some more, he stopped at the Public Television channel and started watching Sesame Street, remembering all the times he had watched it with his mom. Within minutes, his eyes were full of tears as he realized he had never really gotten over his mother’s death, but had only suppressed his grief.

About forty minutes later, General Scott entered the room. He was carrying a large plastic cup in one hand and a sack in the other.

He announced, “Someone said we weren’t feeding you right, so I thought I’d correct the problem.”

Malcolm handed the sack to Kevin, and rolled the tray normally used for meals over to the bed. As Kevin removed the large hamburger and fries from the bag, Malcolm was surprised to see what the young man had been watching.

Grinning at the young man, The General asked, “Trying to convince all these cute nurses that you’re really intelligent and not just some dumb jock?”

After swallowing his first bite of the hamburger, Kevin responded, “Actually, I was thinking about my mother and remembering the times she put aside her work to watch it with me. It’s the first time I’ve really thought about her like that in years. When the nurse brought me a piece of carrot cake, it tasted just like Mom used to make, and the memories and the loss all came flooding back to me.”

For more than one reason, this concerned Malcolm Scott, and he asked, “With everything else that has happened, are you okay?”

Between bites, Kevin answered, “Actually, Sir, I’m in a state of emotional numbness, and in some ways my mind just wants to shut down. At the same time, I think getting my emotions out in the open is helping. I pushed away my grief over Mom, and never really dealt with it. Now, I have nowhere to run to, so I’m having to face it.”

General Scott gently placed his hand on Kevin’s arm and said, “Son, I know it’s hard, but it’s never good to bury those emotions. Soon after your mom died, I lost my wife and daughter to a drunk driver.”

Malcolm paused for a moment to get control and then added, “At first, I subscribed to all that ‘bull’ about real men didn’t cry, that we were too macho to express our hurts. I almost lost my command before your dad sat me down and read me the riot act. Imagine, a major telling a general to get his act together. It wasn’t long after that discussion when I made sure Mike got his silver leaves.”

Kevin sadly replied, “Sir, I never knew.”

“Kevin, the only reason I brought it up was to explain how I can know how you feel. I’m just as alone as you, and while you’ve lost your dad and Jennifer, I’ve lost one of my closest friends.”

“Thanks, Sir. It does help. I’m also learning that suppressing these emotions doesn’t make them go away, it only delays having to deal with them. It also seems to make later emotional upheavals harder to handle. Even though it’s only been a few minutes since I started to deal with Mom’s death, the other hurts seem to have been soothed at the same time.”

“Son, are you sure you’re just seventeen?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m afraid so, but right now I wish I was five and could curl up in Mom’s arms and have her kiss all the pain away. Unfortunately, I can’t go back to those days and times. Instead, I have to face this as an adult, which may be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Still concerned, Malcolm asked, “So, where is ‘Kevin’ at the moment?”

“Sir, like I said, I’m numb, but I think I’m moving out of the shock and denial stage. Obviously I feel a great sense of loss, but I’m no longer devastated to the point of committing suicide, either physical or emotional. I don’t think I could have honestly said that a few days ago. I know it will take time for my body to heal and for this pain and emptiness in my heart to ease. I’m now also sure that eventually I will be able to face the future, whatever it may be.”

“Kevin, I think it’s good you’re beginning to deal with your loses in this manner. A lot of people have been concerned about you, even our President. Do you know he had you flown here in his helicopter?”

“That’s what someone told me. General, the nurse who has been assisting me here has probably helped more than anyone. The way she expressed her hurt for what I was feeling reminded me there were still good people on this planet, and in this country. I know I’ll have more grief to deal with, but maybe I can now focus less on the bad, and start finding more of the good.”

“That’s the most encouraging news I’ve heard today. By the way, were you surprised they gave your Dad his star, even if it was posthumously.”

“Yes, but I feel he deserved it. Of course, I might be a little biased.”

“You might be, but you’re also correct. He did deserve it. In fact, I tried to get it for him several years ago, but he did not want to leave CID. The only way he could have gotten both was for me to retire or be transferred to another command.”

“Well, it was still an nice gesture.”

“Kevin, it was more than a nice gesture. It elevates your status and benefits significantly.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t know all the details. The brass at the Pentagon will reveal it all later.”

“Then I’ll wait on my questions until they catch up with me. In the meantime, I have one question for you.”

“Shoot.”

Kevin laughed at the General’s remark and said, “That’s what I wanted to ask you about. Why was my gun bag on the plane that brought us here?”

Surprised Kevin had noticed, Malcolm Scott replied, “Let me first ask my own question. Are you as good with those six-guns as your father said?”

“I don’t know what Dad told you, but I’m pretty fast. I’m also accurate with both hands, which is kind of strange. Shooting is about the only thing I can do well with my left hand.”

“How soon would you feel up to a demonstration?”

“Get me out of here and find me a way to stand, and I can do it right now. Or, as soon as this food gets into my system.”

“Then I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

While Kevin was still pondering what all this meant, his nurse returned, carrying some green scrubs.

Smiling, she said, “Kevin, General Scott just told me about how much I had helped you. I want you to know it has made my day.”

“You’re welcome, but actually all you did was be yourself. Your professionalism diagnosed the blood sugar problem. Your care and compassion reminded me there were still some people worth caring about. When you brought me the piece of cake, it reminded me of my mom. As I thought back about the time when Mom was still alive, I realized I had never really dealt with her death. Once I started grieving for Mom, it was like breaking a logjam of emotions.

She responded, “Now, hush before you make me cry again. I understand you’re being checked out temporarily, but you will be coming back. When you do, you’ll be put in a VIP suite, so I don’t know if I will ever see you again.”

“But, what if I requested you to be assigned to my suite?”

“Kevin, I don’t think that would be a good idea. It might start rumors that would not be good. What is worse, is if you did have me assigned to you, those rumors might become true. Right now, I’m as vulnerable as you are, and you’re a very handsome young man… even if you are seven years younger than me. I’ll do this instead. I promise to stop in and check on you every time I get a chance.”

“Thanks, I would like that; though I honestly had not thought of you romantically at this point. In addition, I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Mary Ann…Lieutenant Mary Ann Blakely.”

Nurse Blakely then helped Kevin into the scrubs. When he was dressed, she also assisted him getting into a wheel chair. During the transfer, Kevin did notice he could put more weight on his right leg. He also noticed that several times Mary Ann’s breasts had rubbed across his arm. He didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but to a seventeen year old boy, it sure felt good.

When she finished, she opened the door, and two young soldiers came in with General Scott.

Looking at Kevin, Malcolm realized how thin the scrubs were and said, “Nurse, we will be moving him to a warm van that is equipped for a wheel chair, but I think he needs more cover to get him there. Could we get a blanket for him? I’ll see that it gets back to you.”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.”

Moments later she returned with a soft foam blanket. The two soldiers helped Kevin to stand while she and General Scott wrapped the blanket around him to keep out the chill. When they were finished, Mary Ann gave Kevin a soft kiss on the cheek and then left the room. Kevin and the others followed her, but they turned toward the elevators while she headed back to the nurses station.

In the elevator, General Scott remarked, “She was pretty.”

“Who?’

“Your nurse. Did she tell you about being placed in a suite when we get back?”

“Yes, she did. From that, I’m assuming I’m not going back to the hotel with the Pickneys.”

“No, you won’t be, as you will be doing your therapy here. In fact, some of my people are currently getting your clothes, and are bringing them to where we are headed.”

Kevin’s countenance fell and he sadly said, “I’m sorry I can’t tell them good-bye before they leave.”

“Oh, they’re not leaving right away. Some of the Sergeant’s friends are going to give them a grand tour of the city. I promise you’ll get to see them again before they fly home on Sunday.

Relieved, Kevin said, “That sounds good, Sir, though you might talk to Sarge about their accommodations. I suspect they would feel much more comfortable in something a little less luxurious.”

“Thanks for telling me. I was so concerned about doing things ‘right’ for you, I never considered how they might respond.”

As they were talking, the elevator doors opened, and Kevin found they were in a basement parking area. An Army van was waiting in front of them, and Kevin could tell it was running because of the exhaust. As soon as the people in the van saw the General, the side door was opened, and a wheel chair platform was lowered. Kevin was wheeled over to the van and quickly loaded inside.

Once everyone was buckled in, the sergeant behind the wheel headed out of the lot. As soon as they were outside, Malcolm pulled out a cell phone and called a captain. That was all Kevin knew, as no last name was ever used. General Scott explained Kevin’s concern and ordered him to discuss it with the Pickneys.

Finally, Malcolm said, “Captain, I don’t care! Just do whatever it takes to make them comfortable.”

A little over thirty minutes later, the van passed through the gates of Fort Meade. After traveling for a mile through the Fort’s grounds, they pulled up to the front of a building marked Fort Meade Rod and Gun Club. The men in the van quickly moved Kevin from the warm van into the warm building. The air outside was not really that cold, but for someone in hospital scrubs, it would have felt bitter.

Inside, they wheeled Kevin down a hallway and into a standard pistol range. There were several people waiting for them, but all the shooting booths were empty. As he was wheeled toward an open area between two of the booths, two men came forth and introduced themselves. They were physical therapists and had developed a device they believed would allow him to stand without putting pressure on the mending bones in his heel.

While they helped Kevin get into their device, Malcolm Scott joined three other men who were observing from the side. One of the men, FBI Special Agent Dwight Bowman, was scrutinizing Kevin’s physical appearance and liked what he saw. The young man before him was slightly over six feet, and probably weighed around one-ninety. His chestnut hair was in fairly rakish style that could fit into most cultures. He also noticed that, though the subject of his close observation was rather young, his eyes told of aging and maturity far beyond his years.

When he got closer, he realized that Kevin had the same blue eyes as his father. Mike McKinsey had been agent Bowman’s friend for many years. Agent Bowman had once described those eyes to someone as ‘the look of an eagle’.

‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘I can understand why Mike was so proud of his son.’

Gunnery Sergeant Octavius James, or ‘Gunny’ as he was normally called, was doing his own observations of the young man. Though he thought Kevin might make a good Marine, Gunny’s specialty was weapons, not recruiting.

Earlier in the day, Gunny had been brought a leather bag containing a pair of Colt western style revolvers. Checking them out, he had been impressed with the care they had been given. He also appreciated the workmanship of the handmade holsters that went with them, though he felt the arrangement was a little unorthodox. He had never seen a set up where the gun for the left hand was on the right side in a cross draw position.

The third gentleman wore jeans and a comfortable golf shirt. He also wore a blue windbreaker with U S Marshal stenciled on the back. Rick Hansen was a Texan who had joined the Marshals after serving for many years as a Texas Ranger. He was considered one of the finest western shooters outside of Hollywood. It was his job to evaluate this young man for a task that Rick would not have wished upon his worst enemy.

After trying several variations, Kevin and the two therapists were satisfied with the makeshift frame attached to Kevin’s leg. He still could not walk, but it allowed Kevin to stand without putting any pressure on his right heel, and very little on any part of his right foot.

Once Kevin was comfortable, the two therapists were instructed to wait in the lobby. When they closed the door leading to the hallway, Malcolm led the three men over to meet Kevin. While Kevin was told their names and what branch or agency they were involved with, he was not given any details of each man’s expertise, or why they were there.

“Kevin, I would like you to show us what you can do. Would that be a problem?”

“No, Sir. Just give me a few moments to get ready.”

“Sure. Take your time.”

The first thing Kevin did was check out each of his guns. They were both Colt single action Forty-five’s, also known as the Peacemaker. These particular guns were made in the early nineteen hundreds and had five and a half inch barrels.

Next, he belted on the holster and loaded each weapon by inserting one round, skipping a cylinder, and then loading four other rounds. Thus, when he moved the gun to a half-cocked position, the hammer sat over the empty cylinder. Finally, he fit them carefully in the holsters and looked back at the men for instructions.

“Kevin, just go at you own pace. You don’t have to push yourself, as we are as interested in accuracy as we are in speed.”

Kevin nodded and placed his custom sound protectors in his ears. The other men put on large headsets to block out the noise.

When he was set, he looked toward the targets, which were two human shaped silhouettes placed side-by-side, twenty-five feet away. Because of the way the targets were placed, and because he had no specific instructions to the contrary, Kevin decided to go for both targets at once. He relaxed and focused his concentration. This demonstration was important to him, as his dad had bragged about his ability to these men. He did not want to let his dad down.

Suddenly, his hands were filled with blazing six-guns. Before the men could even comprehend what had happened, Kevin was extracting the spent cartridges and loading fresh ones.

“Sugar!” exclaimed Marshal Hansen. “I’ve never seen someone so fast.”

Gunny added, “I agree, but let’s see how accurate he was.”

A switch was flipped and both targets moved toward the men via an electronic pulley system. Before the targets were even half way back to the shooting line, it was clear the ‘X ring’, or the ‘heart area’ of each paper target was totally shredded. Not a single round had landed outside the area.

Malcolm Scott turned to Special Agent Bowman and asked, “Well, what are your comments?”

“We either give this man a badge, or break his hands. Nobody outside of the military or law enforcement should be that good. I think it’s time we tell Kevin what this is all about.”

The other men nodded. Gunny immediately jumped to help a puzzled Kevin unload the guns, placing the guns and the unusual holster back into the leather bag.

With a tone of respect, Gunny said, “Don’t worry about your guns, Son. I’ll make sure they’re properly cleaned.”

In the meantime, Rick Hansen went to get the two physical therapists. When they arrived, they helped Kevin out of their device. Before they packed up their stuff and left, they also helped him put on some normal clothes and return to the wheelchair.

Gunny pushed Kevin back to the van, with the other three men following. Once they were all on board, they drove away from the Rod and Gun Club, but stayed within the Fort Meade reservation. A short time later, they pulled into the driveway of a normal looking home. The garage door was raised electronically, and the van pulled forward and parked. When the engine was turned off, the garage door closed.

From the garage, they moved into the house. In the living room, a comfortable fire was blazing in the fireplace. The sofa and chairs were placed in front of the fire in a manner that encouraged casual and relaxed conversation.

Malcolm Scott began by saying, “Kevin, before we can explain what this is all about, we need you to sign some forms.”

“Enlistment forms?”

Special Agent Bowman laughed and said, “No. Actually, these are secrecy act forms where you promise not to disclose to anyone what we are about to tell you.”

“This sounds ominous, but can I ask one question before I sign?”

“Sure.”

“Does this have anything to do with my dad’s death?”

The four other men looked at each other for a few moments. Finally, the FBI representative nodded.

“Then, where do I sign?”

Once the forms were signed, Kevin listened to an incredible story. A story concerning the theft of a rare element from an Army lab in New Mexico.

Malcolm explained, “Kevin, the investigation was a joint venture between the CID and the FBI. They were operating under my authority, but your dad and Dwight were paired together in the field.”

“And where do Marshal Hansen and Gunny come into play?”

“They were brought into the team to evaluate you. Once they were in, they were kept as part of the team.”

“But why evaluate me, and what does my ability to handle western firearms have to do with anything?”

“We have learned that one of our researchers, a Dr. Meyerhauf, discovered this material could be used to power a time travel device. This could have been a good thing, except the ‘good doctor’ was part of a Neo-Nazi group. A group that believes that, without the intervention of the United States, the Third Reich would have ruled the world.”

Kevin replied, “And they’re probably right.”

“I would agree. Anyway, because of his belief, Dr. Meyerhauf studied enough American history to reach the conclusion that, if the South had been successful, eventually the European countries would have conquered the divided nations. The result of this would be that America, as we know it, would not have existed in 1939.”

An incredulous Kevin asked, “Are you kidding me?”

“No. Since Mike’s death, we found the man’s private retreat, including his computer, his notes and a complete diary. What is more, we found the time machine.”

“Did you catch him?”

“No, he and a group had already gone back in time. Their plan, according to Meyerhauf’s notes, was to assassinate General Grant while he was on his way to Chattanooga to relieve Rosecrans. Dr. Meyerhauf was convinced if he could stop Grant at this point, it would allow the south to exploit the command vacuum, retaking Chattanooga and most of eastern Tennessee. As a result, Sherman’s march to the sea would have never happened, and the end of the war would be put off indefinitely.”

“And what would that accomplish?” asked Kevin.

“Most likely, either Lee would ultimately capture Washington and the North would surrender, or in another few years, the entire country would be too devastated to ever recover. Either way, the land would be ripe for a take over by several European countries.”

A thoughtful Kevin stated, “I have three questions. First, how do we know they haven’t already succeeded? Second, how could he have pulled this off? Finally, why would he have left all this information behind?”

Dwight Bowman replied, “Kevin, I’m impressed. Those were the three most intelligent questions I could have imagined someone asking. Now, to answer them, I will have to include some conjecture.”

“Okay. Tell me what you know, and then tell me what you think.”

“That makes sense. In answer to your first question, we know history as we understand it has yet to change. If it had, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. Thus, either they haven’t executed their plan yet, or else the past can’t really be changed, only a parallel universe is created.”

Kevin thoughtfully nodded and said, “I can buy that, and it’s probably a question we’ll never know the answer to.”

General Scott added, “Well, we do have some clues. Do you remember the explosion in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, last year?”

“The one that killed the Congressman?”

“That’s the one. Well, a week after the explosion, one of the partners of a prestigious Washington law firm asked the Speaker of the House to meet him for lunch. During the lunch he gave the Speaker a letter their firm had been holding to be delivered on this particular date. They had been holding it since 1879.”

“And?”

“The letter was from the Congressman and was quite intriguing. It seems he was not only thrown back in time, but also into someone else’s body.”

“Kind of like the TV show?”

“That’s what I understand, except there were no subsequent leaps and no holographic help.”

“And this has been proven to be authentic?”

“Without a doubt, and it explains one of the mysteries of the Civil War.”

“And what is that? He didn’t become Lee or Jefferson Davis did he?”

“No, but this Congressman was a retired Special Forces Major and a graduate of VMI. The body he came to inhabit was that of John Singleton Mosby, also known as The Gray Ghost. The man whose small unit and guerrilla tactics are copied even today.”

“Did these men also end up in someone else’s body?”

“Not according to Dr. Meyerhauf’s observations. He was working on some theories when objects suddenly appeared in his lab. Then, as he got closer to his final product, he sent the object back to the time where it had first appeared.”

Kevin sighed, as his brain was almost in overload, but he asked, “What about my second question? How could he have gotten away with it?”

Malcolm answered, “That part is easy. Though the material was rare, it was not radioactive, it was stable and at the time, we had no use for it. It was just a curiosity and he happened to be the most curious. He was also the most appropriate candidate for the research, because he had doctorates in both rare elements and theoretical physics.”

Dwight continued, “From what we’ve discovered from his diary, he noted the material behaved strangely in certain circumstances. As a result he started researching those strange properties. He had no idea what he was working with, nor where it could lead. He was just doing what he liked to do best, pure research.

“When this happened, his security clearance was intact, and we had no idea of his extreme political beliefs. When he finally made his breakthrough, he moved the remaining material, the device, as well as his notes and computer files concerning the material, to an old lab he had rented. We were called in to investigate when all the material at his disposal disappeared. He had tried to make it look like a break-in and theft, but Mike got suspicious. There were just too many, more valuable things not taken.”

“But why would he leave everything behind?”

“Kevin, every time Dr. Meyerhauf’s device was used, it required the destruction of small amount of this material. As far as he knew, what he had, was all there was.

Fortunately for us, there is enough material in other places for five more trips. Three for humans, which require more fuel, for lack of a better word, and two for supplies. One of his key discoveries was that living and non-living things have to be transported separately. This means people have to travel nude, and with no weapons.”

At that moment, Kevin knew he was going to have an opportunity to go after Jennifer and his dad’s killers, so he looked up and smiled, “From what all you’ve told me, I guess you want me to be one of the three.”

“Yes, but for more than one reason. Two people have already been transported to separate small peaceful valleys in southern Ohio, while their supplies were placed in a cave in between. Yesterday, one of our people checking out the cave found a shallow grave. In addition, all the supplies we sent were still there, except the gold, a couple of guns and some of the clothes. It is our belief that one of the men, a history professor who had a penchant for gambling, killed our gunman and abandoned the project for self enrichment.”

“And what happens after I succeed, if I succeed?’

Dwight Bowman replied, “I guess you’ve figured by now that this is a one way trip. We will try to provide you with the resources to live a good life. We just ask that you not to change history any more than you can help. You’ve probably read enough science fiction to know, at least theoretically, little events can potentially make major changes in the future.”

Kevin did not even hesitate, but responded, “Okay, I’m in. Now, where do we go from here?”

“We need to gather supplies, and develop a cover story. Finally, we need to find a place where you can be safely inserted without being in the middle of another person, a rock or a tree.”

“That makes sense. What are the keys to the cover story?”

“Well, you would obviously be a young man, young enough for the Army. This is a problem, as most of the young men in the North during this time were being pressed into the service. Trying to skirt this problem is why we chose two older men for our first attempt.”

Thinking for a moment, Kevin asked, “What was the North’s view of Canada at the time?”

“Basically the North tried to curry favor with Canada. A lot of effort was made to develop trade and political relationships in the hope these would keep them from siding with the South. Why?”

“Because I speak fluent French, as well as English with either a Scottish or French accent. I could be a son of a prominent rancher in Western Quebec, sent to look for cattle and horses to improve the family’s stock. With various documents, I should be able to move about with relative impunity. What’s more, my being Canadian would help excuse various faux pas.”

The General replied, “I think it’s a great idea.”

Dwight added, “I agree. I’ll get my FBI people to immediately begin working on documents, pertinent information and period clothing.”

Gunny asked, “What about us? Are we finished?”

Kevin replied, “No, Gunny, not by a long shot. I assume you’re an expert armorer, or know people who are.”

“Yep.”

“Then, I want you to help me develop some weapons.”

“Okay.”

Turning to Rick Hansen, Kevin said, “Marshal, I need you to help me sharpen my skills. It’s one thing to draw against paper targets, but I’ve never even shot a deer. I need to know I can react by instinct, without getting ‘buck fever’.”

Pleased with the young man’s honest attitude, Rick replied, “I’ll teach you everything I can. I also have some buddies in Texas who can probably help you even more than I can..”

More than pleased with the young man’s intelligence and attitude, General Scott asked, “Anything else?”

“Yes, Sir. I want all the information available on all of those who went back, including both of your men. I want maps, especially railroad maps, and the best historical summaries we can obtain of this time period.”

Dwight responded, “The FBI can provide those without a problem.”

Kevin continued, “I also want some real card sharks to teach me everything they can about poker as it was played during that period. I especially want to know all the tricks that could be used to cheat.”

Rick said, “We can cover that on our trip to Texas.”

Kevin nodded in acknowledgement and said, “Finally, I know where and when I want to be inserted.”

General Scott asked, “And where is that?”

“In the cave where the body was found, five days after the first group was inserted. This should put me in the cave shortly after the murder, but after the murderer has fled. We know nothing has disturbed the place since then, and I was probably the one to bury the one who was killed.”

Gunny asked, “Why would you think that?”

“Nothing else was disturbed, and the killer would not have taken the time to hide the body if he didn’t take time to hide the supplies.”

“Then why not get there before the murder and stop it?” asked Dwight Bowman.

“Because his death is already ‘history’. Besides, we don’t know what might have happened before the murder, only what has happened since then. Don’t worry, your professor will not get away unscathed. That’s why I want to learn all I can about poker.”

Dwight nodded his understanding and asked, “Then, when do we put this plan into effect?”

“The day the cast is removed, and I can move around freely with just a cane,” was Kevin’s reply.