Part II - Chapter 10 - When Shit Hits the Fan

The group reached the cabin and locked up the now conscious prisoners in the storm cellar, after re-sealing the door that Rachel and James had apparently kicked in earlier. Fiona volunteered to watch over the prisoners which enabled the rest of the group to return to the cabin.

As soon as they pushed open the door to the cabin, tempers flared as accusations were being fired upon Doc. Michael and Brisco pushed a bewildered and silent Doc into a chair. While they had all experienced plans go awry in the past, this time, much of the problems and now a lost Pete, seemed to center around Doc. However, Madeline tried to calm everyone down with offers of beer from the icebox but when it was clear that no one was backing down, she took out a gun and fired it in the air. Everyone looked at her in stunned silence.

“Boys, I think it’s time for you to take a walk,” Madeline stated in a stern voice as she lit her next cigarette. As Michael and Brisco attempted to protest, she held up her hand and gave them each a look that meant she was about to tend to business. When Maddie gave that look, you knew that she would obtain information faster than any Pinkerton, Marshall, or skilled torturer. That woman could draw blood from a stone if needed.

Michael silently took the beers Madeline had offered, nodded his head toward the outside, and a frustrated Brisco followed Michael out of the cabin. However, the two men did not go on a walk. Instead, Michael leaned against the house as Brisco angrily paced.

After several minutes of Brisco stewing, Michael broke the silence, “After all of these years being undercover, I finally have an out. No more of the spy life. Just heading operations and advising bureaucrats.”

“Don’t blame me for your bad decisions,” retorted Brisco sarcastically. At Michael’s surprised look, Brisco gave him an impish smile. “C’mon! The only thing worse than a spy is a political bureaucrat. You’re going to be bored out of your mind.”

“As bored as a Hollywood consultant?” retorted Brisco.

“Touché,” grinned Brisco.

“What do you do in that role, anyway? I have yet to see an accurate ‘Western’ movie.”

“It’s mostly just drinking and watching movies. They rarely actually want the truth.”

“Sounds familiar,” Michael smirked. A moment passed before Michael became serious again, “It really is time to go home. And I owe you Brisco. Truly.”

Brisco sighed as he felt this conversation was becoming more sappy than he was open to feeling right now. “Of all of the times for Doc to go silent! Right when we had James in our grasp and this whole drama so close to an end.”

“Brisco, I need you to hear me,” the urgency as Michael said this interrupted Brisco’s thoughts and he looked into Michael’s face. “You are the best man and the best friend that I have ever had. I need you to know that Brisco. You need to let go of the weight that you are carrying because that guilt is going to distract you and get you killed.”

Brisco knew that Michael was warning him to let go of his mission to save Bowler’s son but that request was out of the question. But instead of opening up another argument, Brisco changed the subject.

“So, we’re in the middle of nowhere. Where was your mom wanting us to walk?”

“What do you have against trees?” inquired Michael as stood up from against the house and began walking around the cabin towards the back of it.

“So, are you taking me out back to show me another secret tunnel or super-secret spy station with the weapons of the future that I was supposed to be selling?”

“Actually, I am about to introduce you to the newest member of your team.”

They turned the corner and behind the cabin were two cars – one that was loaded up with luggage but the other car was nearly empty. Michael led Brisco to the less filled vehicle and continued, “I found her on my way through Dodge City, she was pretty beat up but I was able to restore her as a stress relief during this job. Not only can she handle the miles but she can charge through whatever speed or trouble you throw at her.”

“A restored Dodge Charger, huh? How much do I owe you for her?”

“She’s a gift,” Michael replied. “By the way, I think Fiona packed some guns, ammunition, and a couple sticks of TNT in the back for you.”

Brisco didn’t know what to say. About Michael’s advice, about the car, or about the small armory from Fiona. There was just too much that happened in a short amount of time and his head was spinning.
“He’s finally able to talk,” came a voice. They both turned around and saw that Maddie had joined them, she had clearly worked her magic on Doc. And they had only a short time to talk and plan before U.S. Attorney Brigstone would be coming to pick up the prisoners.

- - - - - - - - -

Doc’s hands were shaking as he slowly sipped from a glass of water. Brisco couldn’t help but notice that while Doc was no longer catatonic, he was still very much shaken. Doc brought the glass down and held it unsteadily in his lap before slowly beginning.

“When the hotel manager and I left the room, I did not get a good look at the long haired guy-“

“Pete,” chimed in Brisco in an attempt to help.

“Yeah. The hotel manager directed us around the room and I stood outside the room. I heard a commotion as I circled the room and found James and the other guy, Pete, knocked out on the floor. I looked up and saw the hotel manager leading Rachel out at gunpoint so I quickly helped James wake up. I had just enough time to let him know that Rachel was in trouble before we decided that it would be best for me to lead James out at gunpoint and surprise the hotel manager or anyone else who might be waiting outside.

“As we walked towards the door, I told James that if any trouble occurred that he needed to simply think ‘home’ and the bracelet would take him home. When he asked me what I meant by “home,” I realized that with the loss of his father, his world had been so shaken that nowhere had felt like home. That at least explained why he’s been moving through time and visiting all of my programmed locations. To help guide him, I told him to focus on the feeling of ‘home’ that his mother provided the next time he felt himself leaving by bracelet.”

Doc took another unsteady breath before continuing, “We walked outside and the man was grilling Rachel. I can’t exactly remember all that was said, I just know that Rachel was shot. It was so fast. I don’t know if it was her shoulder, her heart, or what. There was blood everywhere-“

“It’s ok, Doc,” came Madeline’s soothing voice. “You’re safe now.”

“James picked up Rachel and I shouted directions to James on how to start the bracelet and to think of “home.” Within a few minutes, they were gone. Suddenly, Fiona was crashing through the hotel in the car, there were gunshots and explosions, I ran around the hotel trying to get guests out of the hotel, and then suddenly we were leaving town.”

“How does Pete fit into all of this?” asked Michael.

“I have no idea. You gotta believe me! All I know is that he was the long-haired man that I ran into which launched all of this craziness. I have no clue about how he ended up in my time, but I do know that he is the man that we sent Socrates to look for in San Francisco.”

Brisco took in Doc’s limited explanation before musing aloud, “So, I guess our next question is, how the hell did Pete Hutter land in the future? And where exactly has he been staying in San Francisco?”

Part II - Chapter 09 - The Arms' Deal

The hot and humid trip to town passed as a blur for Brisco and Doc. As Brisco stepped off the wagon in front of the hotel, he took a moment to study himself in the reflection of a window. Brisco straightened his tie and took in the rest of the suit. According to Brisco’s cover, he had to shave before leaving and wear a suit for negotiations with his “influential prospective buyer.” Brisco studied his suit for one last moment before making a mental note that he would have to appear extra paranoid from the night before so that their opponents would relax a bit more, leaving themselves open for the taking.

Brisco turned back towards the wagon to find Doc already working to unload the guns, the ammunition, the scrap metal props, and the TNT. All of the items that would enable Doc and Brisco to sell their cover stories. The rest of the real weapons would arrive with Fiona and Madeline in the car in the event there was any trouble and the local Irish mob decided to start a battle.

After all of the “merchandise” was unloaded and sitting in the dining room in preparation for the weapons sale, Brisco instructed Doc to go around to the various windows and doors of the dining room to ensure that everything was sealed. During the night, Pete and the hotel staff should have sealed up the dining hall and prepared it to stifle any noise under the guise of protecting “future weapon secrets.” By sealing off the room, it would also give the group an opportunity to pump gas into the room. The role of gassing the room was to be filled by Doc who had already volunteered for the job, wherever he was. Brisco had to admit, it was surprising that Michael would allow a stranger to gas the room. Brisco shook the thought from his mind to focus on spreading out the weapons. He ensured that the scrap metal props were towards the back of the room to ensure that they could be seen but not thoroughly investigated. He moved several tables to the center of the room and spread out the sketches and guns ensuring that the loaded guns were near him and the guns in the center of the room were unloaded.

After what felt like a half an hour or so, Brisco noticed that there was a small bar set up in the back of the room. Since it looked like the Irish group were still out and about, Brisco leaned behind the bar and helped himself to a beer. As he sat down, he winced when he felt that the beer was warm. But then thinking about the amount of work still ahead of him, he decided to press on and enjoy the beer as best as he could. Just as Brisco began to mentally review the plan for the 3rd time since sitting down, the doors swung open and the Irishmen walked in – the hotel manager, O’Banion, and Snake joined him in the dining room. As they closed the door, Brisco could the see that Playfair, failed thief from last night, was guarding the doors.

Brisco took another sip of the warm beer before nonchalantly stating, “You’re early.”

“We believe in getting business accomplished quickly,” O’Banion responded in his silky and smiling tone.

“We will start on time or not at all,” Brisco replied shortly before taking another gulp. “At this rate, I will need another 2 beers before Michael even arrives.”

“My compatriots and I were thinking that having a middleman is an extra expense that none of us want to deal with. Why don’t we begin negotiations now which will enable you to increase your fee and us to decrease our cost?”

Brisco finished off the beer, scratched his chin, and then stretched before standing. He walked across the room to grab another beer, as though the question was a preposterous musing brought up by a child asking why can’t the sky be brought closer to the earth?

“Well?” asked Snake in a more menacing tone.

“Listen, fellas, I appreciate the economical approach that you’re pitching here. I truly do. However, you have to keep in mind, Michael connects me to more people than you. If I burn Michael, I might as well blow up my supply because I’m never going to get another deal. Now you wouldn’t want that, right? Besides, I want to ensure that all of my people are safe and in sight before we begin any negotiations. So, on that note, let’s all have a seat, and have a drink or two. While I’m up, would either of you like a beer? Looks like you’re buying.”

O’Banion’s face was frozen in an icy smile, almost as forced as Michael’s during a job and sat down in a seat before motioning a decline to the drink offer. The hotel manager nervously stood behind a chair, unsure whether to sit on it, leave the room, or protect the bar from further pillaging. Brisco had no doubt that the hotel manager would stand on his head if asked by O’Banion. Snake was not so tempered in his response. He stormed out of the room but came back moments later pushing a confused Doc in front of him. Brisco looked out the closing door to see Pete joining the guard. He gave Brisco a quick wink and hat tip before turning his back as though he would be Brisco’s side of protection.

Doc was quickly pushed across the room to stand in the middle of the room. Brisco grabbed another beer and shoved it into Doc’s trembling hands. “Here you go, Doc. Celebrate! I’m about to make you rich.”

The beer had splashed out over the top of the beer bottle and Doc had to wipe off the beer before gingerly placing the beer down on a nearby table. “Thank you Mr. Finley but I prefer to celebrate after I have my compensation in hand and preferably in a safer place,” came Doc’s hoarse and whispered voice.

Brisco laughed and slapped him on the back, “Doc, ever the cautious fuck!”

“What about the charming young lady that was part of your group? The hotel manager said that she had left last night and no one has seen her since. Will she be joining us?” inquired O’Banion.

At the mention of Rachel, a protective feeling washed over Brisco which actually surprised him. “After the way you knocked out my scientist last night, do you really think that I would have her anywhere near this hotel?”

“That’s too bad. She would have been a welcome addition and a breath of fresh air and beauty for today’s meeting,” O’Banion sighed. He then surveyed Brisco’s clothing before musing, “Well, I see you are at least dressed appropriately for our meeting today.” The judgement in his eyes could not be missed as he seemed to still find Brisco’s appearance lacking compared to an invisible standard known only to O’Banion. For a moment though, his eyes flickered behind Brisco to the guns, sketches, and artillery before he focused back on Brisco. The room had an intense silence as both sides of the room measured the other, as though war was moments from breaking out over a peaceful sea.

“Vell, I muss say, I’ve nheva heard such a lout commotion,” came a sarcastic German accent. A tall man with sharp nose, thick eyebrows, and bushy mustache entered the room. His hair was parted down the middle and he wore a suit but based on the way he walked, it was clear that the man had a military background.

“I must say, Chuck, we are friends now? Ya? I can call you Chuck? Can we waylay ze formality?” his tone was both mocking and authoritative as O’Banion sat a bit straighter with the German’s entrance. “Franz, this is Chuck Finley, Chuck this is Franz von Papen.”

“Have a seat Fran,” smiled Brisco. “Have a beer.”

“Itz Franz,” came the polite correction from the German. His cheek twitched for only a moment before the German smiled and took a beer but remained standing next to Brisco. In fact, he continued to smile as he drank his beer. He smiled as he looked over Brisco. He smiled as he took mental inventory of the far side of the room. And continued to smile as he took another gulp.

Something about this German made Brisco’s skin crawl. There was a sinister nature in his smile that made Brisco want to just beat the shit out of him. “Yes, this was the man who was orchestrating the bombing of various factories. This was the man trying to create conflict between labor parties, big businesses, and the US government. This man was killing civilians – and why? For an agenda? Who’s and why? Or just for the hell of it?” Studying the lust in the German’s eyes as he eyed the artillery made Brisco sure that this sadist took pleasure in the destruction of others. At the realization, Brisco’s stomach hardened. It would take all of his strength to get through the rest of this mission.

“Your loyalty to your men and to your intermediary is commendable and unexpected. I have to ask, do you come from a big family? Or have you served in some great battle? Based on your reputation, I would have considered you more unscrupulous,” came the lilting voice of the Irishman.

During spy games such as these, the best lie is the truth. Or at least something close to the truth.

Brisco pressed on and with a smile gave the truth, “Only child. But yes, I have seen my fair share of violence. You don’t get to be so well acquainted with guns without seeing a bit of bloodshed.” Brisco looked at his pocket watch. The meeting was not set to start for another 20 minutes and Brisco did not want to continue small talk like this for the next 20 minutes. He wasn’t sure how long he could bury the hatred for Franz. “Where the hell is Mike? Can he get here earlier than the planned arrival time?”

“Based on yhour relationship vit your pocket vatch, I zink zis line of questioning is boring you. I have to ask, am I boring you as a host?”

“Let’s just say I prefer action over words, in all situations,” Brisco replied meaningfully.

“Snake here is the same way. Itchy trigger finger. I call it a disease but he assures me that it’s a form of loyalty to our cause,” O’Banion smiled as he pointed towards Snake.

“And you?” asked Brisco to Franz.

“Oh, I prefer to ask ze questions raver zan to anzer zem,” evaded the German.

“Me? I feel like any relationship is a dance. Friendships, Country-“ O’Banion’s list trailed off.

“Women?” interjected Brisco

“Of course. It’s all a dance. Getting as much as you can from the other person while giving as little of yourself as possible.”

“Doesn’t sound very patriotic.”

“It does if you zay ze right zings to ze right people,” Franz laughed, which Brisco found to be more blood chilling than the smile.

A large whine came from the outside door as it protested being pushed open. Within moments, Michael walked into the room with Playfair following behind him. Michael gave a forced laugh before beginning his Irish accent again, “I thought the meetin’ was goin to begin in twenty minutes? I only came a mite early as I was hopin’ for some whiskey or beer before we started plannin’ a little treason.”

“Ah Michael. Treason and the law, it’s simply a matter of which side of the gun you are on. But we wouldn’t dream of starting without you. I think it’s about time to send our boys on an adventure.” At that, Playfair and the hotel manager were tasked to keep the room private and placed on patrol at the front room. Doc was sent out the back, supposedly to bring in more weapons but in reality, to turn the pump at the assigned time. Brisco looked past O’Banion to Pete outside the room. To Brisco’s relief, it looked like Pete had convinced the hotel manager to go back to the front desk and allow Playfair and Pete to guard the main entrance.

When the room was only the foursome, Michael and Brisco quickly sprang into action and expertly explained the various artillery units, the guns, the ammunition, the TNT, and the sketches. As Franz and O’Banion listened to the sales pitches and inspected the various sketches, it was clear that they were not impressed. “While we are pleased at the quantity that you were able to bring into here, we are not impressed by the quality,” stated O’Banion.

“And if ve vere to be perfectly frank, the quantity izn’t even enuf for our upcomink event.”

Expecting that the mini arsenal would not be enough, Brisco made a big show about a briefcase that had been hiding under the blankets. He lifted it up and unlocked it as though the most precious cargo in the world was hiding inside of it. The room was gathered around the briefcase as though expecting some kind of invincible tiny weapon. When Brisco lifted the next set of sketched pages with the odd vehicles that Doc had designed carefully out of the box, he was sure to handle them as carefully as possible. However, when O’Banion and Franz took the sketches and looked over the pictures, they two men had very different reactions.

O’Banion seemed in a daze as he absently took the pages and began scanning through them as his anger began to become more visible turning into a white hot rage and then he exploded. “I will not be swindled! This is not what we agreed on!” O’Banion’s temper flared and he threw the pages up in the air. Brisco held in the chuckle as he had figured O’Banion would lose his temper at the lack of a futuristic weapon.

Meanwhile, Franz stepped back and didn’t even attempt to raise a gun or demand better weapons. He simply looked towards the artillery, as though he had another mission, one perhaps more nefarious. Brisco watched the smile slowly twist through the corners of Franz’s mouth. Michael and Brisco exchanged glances in an attempt to process Franz’s reaction.

“Now, now O’Banion. Zat’s no way to behave,” scolded Franz. He pointed at the mess and within moments O’Banion held back his frustration and began collecting the sketches off of the floor. “Iz zis your best veponz, artillery, and vehicles?”

Suddenly the reaction made sense to Brisco. “He is here to see what the ‘best’ Americans can offer!” The realization made Brisco’s stomach plummet. “He isn’t just here to create friction and chaos but to ensure dominance over the United States!”

Before replying, Brisco checked his pocket watch. The gas should begin filling the room soon. The gas masks were hiding in between the various weapons and within arm’s reach. Soon the mission would be over and they can take both of these pieces of shit into custody. Any minute now. Any minute.

But it didn’t happen.

“Gentlemen, I believe that my employer asked you a question?” asked O’Banion. He straightened up and pointed his gun at Brisco. Until this moment he had been trying to present himself as an equal authority figure in the room. But the more time that passed, the more he was acting like the younger brother of the neighborhood bully. All bark and no bite.

Unfortunately, there was still no gas seeping in to rescue them. If Brisco or Michael didn’t do something soon, they would both be dead.

“A deal’s a deal, we’d like our money-“ began Brisco in an attempt to stall.

O’Banion stopped short and even lowered his gun for a moment before bursting out in laughter. “Excuse me?”

“Listen, we don’t want any trouble. But a deal’s a deal.”

“We need a demonstration not pretty pictures. We need to see what we are about to purchase in action!”

“Listen, they’re too big to be brought to town inconspicuously. All of the secrecy that you want would go out the window. And if I brought you to my location, you would kill me and take the items. It makes much more sense, if I give you the pictures, you pay me my money, and I give you a map with the location of what you have paid for. It’s that simple.”

“Or you give me the pictures, I give you money, and you give me a map to a quicksand spot in the desert? Do you think I’m that stupid?” exclaimed O’Banion.

“I can’t believe that you would think that of me! Besides, I have gotten out of quicksand before and it’s not all that impossible. You see, back in the day, my friend Bowler and I met some pirates in the desert and-“

“You’re not helping,” muttered Michael under his breath.

“Or we could kill you now,” O’Banion threatened as he raised his gun to be eye level to Brisco.

“Put avay ze gun,” commanded Franz. “I have a few tool and dye companiez filled with hydraulic prezez. How much zteele do you need?”

Before Brisco or Michael could respond to the odd question, there was a shot and a woman’s scream. It only took a few moments before Brisco placed the voice, it was Rachel who screamed!

Suddenly there was a familiar sound and flash of light from outside. Brisco felt like an icy hand had grabbed his spine and his heart sank to his stomach. “I thought that James & Rachel would be in the shelter? What had happened? What caused James to leave early? Were one or both of them injured? Or worse, were they both dead?”

Brisco had barely enough time to process the questions before a Ford Model T came crashing through the wall. Brisco and Michael had just enough time to dive behind the bar before all hell broke loose. A bewildered and shouting O’Banion was pinned underneath a caved in part of the wall. O’Banion’s arms were unfortunately free and he was blindly shooting at the car, at the door, towards the bar, anything that seemed to piss him off. For all of his big talk, O’Banion was proving himself to be a man not used to violence.

Meanwhile, Michael had quickly recovered from the unexpected crash and grabbed one of the nearby loaded guns. He pumped the shotgun and began to quickly move towards his target, Franz. His prey, Franz, had already knocked over a table and positioned himself behind it. He aimed shots at Fiona who luckily had ducked shortly after crashing through the wall.

Snake had attempted to come back into the room through the hole in the wall created by Fiona’s car but found it difficult as O’Banion kept shooting wildly towards anything that moved, which included Snake. Ignoring O’Banion, Snake started shouting and motioning towards Franz, in an attempt to get the German to safety.

Brisco was still pinned behind the bar and had begun shooting towards Snake and Franz in an attempt to lay down cover fire as Michael moved closer and closer towards apprehending Franz. Just then a dainty hand threw a bottle of liquor with a lit cloth hanging out of it. Brisco had just enough time to see Fiona’s action before he threw himself onto the ground. Another explosion had gone off, luckily this one was less destruction and more smoke to disorient Snake, Franz, and O’Banion.

Brisco stood up and moved around the bar just as he glimpsed a small figure move through the smoke by climbing over the car. Just as Brisco was able to make out Fiona’s face, she began shooting across the room. Snake was down with a gut and headshot in moments. “So much for diplomacy,” Brisco thought. O’Banion was still in shock but luckily out of bullets. Pete came crashing past where Snake lay dead across the doorway. Pete had barely come into sight before Franz began shooting in Pete’s direction. Pete had just enough time to duck before Michael caught up to Franz and tackled him. Brisco quickly moved to aid Michael in cuffing the man. As Franz struggled, Michael hit the German as hard as he could to knock the enemy out. Once Franz was unconscious it was easy for Brisco and Michael to carry their prisoner outside to find Madeline waiting with the wagon Brisco had driven earlier in the day, ready to take on passengers and prisoners. She sat with the reigns across her lap, cigarette dangling from her mouth, and a shot gun loaded and ready to fire on anyone who might stand in her way.

As Brisco and Michael threw Franz into the wagon, Brisco turned to look back at the hotel to determine how far behind the rest of the group was from leaving the battle scene. Pete was the first to appear dragging a bound and gagged O’Banion.

“What the hell happened to the gas? Where’s Rachel and James?” demanded Brisco.

“Not the time,” grunted Pete as the two men threw O’Banion alongside Franz.

Just as Pete passed into the wagon, Brisco spotted Fiona. She was loaded up with most of the weapons and was in the process of tossing lit sticks of dynamite into the hotel behind her. As she rushed to meet the group, she explained that she and Doc had ensured that all guests had been evacuated and the only people remaining were part of the Irish mob. Doc awkwardly followed Fiona from a distance, he attempted to balance the rest of the weapons but it was more weight than the kid must be used to as he struggled to keep them together or off the ground.

Michael and Brisco ran to help ease Doc’s load and just as the group piled into the wagon, Madeline hit the reins and sent the team of horses flying out of the city. Just as the horses’ hooves hit the town border, the explosion went off destroying the hotel dining room and the small surrounding area.

“Fiona always was good at targeted explosions,” thought Brisco as he turned from watching the explosion to look at the group. In an attempt to begin to decompress, Brisco started to mentally assess the mission and the group. As he looked at Doc, it was surprising to see him staring open mouthed at Pete as though he had seen a ghost. Pete looked back at Doc with a look of derision unmatched by anything Brisco had seen before. Pete’s eyes fluttered to Brisco before he rolled up his sleeve revealing a bracelet similar to the one Brisco had briefly seen on James’ arm. Pete gave Brisco a wink before pushing a few buttons and with the familiar light and noise, Pete was gone.

Part II - Chapter 08 - James Kendrick & Madeline Weston

Before Brisco said a word, Pete stuck out his hand and said, “Chuck Finley, I presume. I’m Kendrick. While I would love get to know you better and to pontificate the meaning of life. I believe there is a matter upstairs that demands our immediate attention.”

As if to confirm the statement, a loud thump shook the floor above. Clearly, Brisco’s rooms upstairs were being tossed and potentially ransacked. Brisco buried the desire to demand an immediate explanation of Pete Hutter and followed Pete’s lead. Along the way, anxiety began to build inside of Brisco. “Of all the people in the world, Pete Hutter is going to help me maintain my cover? Doc and Brisco were as good as dead.”

“Who is upstairs?” inquired Pete in a low voice.

Brisco had to choose his words carefully to not undermine his cover, “Just a scientist.”

Pete nodded his acknowledgement as the two men entered the hallway, Brisco and Pete saw two unknown Irishmen kick in the scientist’s room. The group had already destroyed Rachel’s room as her clothes and personal items were strewn around the room and into the hallway. Brisco silently motioned to Hutter directions for the two to sneak up on the Irishmen. Brisco had to gingerly step over unmentionable items as he snuck up behind one of the Irishmen with Pete quietly getting into position to attack the other Irishman.

“Where are the weapons?” Brisco’s Irishman yelled at Doc as Brisco moved into position behind him.

Just past the man, Brisco could see a baffled and blurry-eyed Doc bolted out of bed. Still in a sleepy state, he tried to talk but words failed him. All that came out was a hoarse conglomeration of nonsensical sounds. Brisco was momentarily relieved that Doc had apparently lost his voice which would keep Brisco’s cover intact. Brisco was now almost directly behind his man so he kicked the man’s knees out from under him. The startled man attempted to get back up but Brisco landed a punch into the man’s kidney before Brisco dealt the final blow, taking both elbows down in a swift motion which quickly knocked the man out cold in moments.

The other man was too quick for Pete to catch and before anyone could stop him, managed to punch Doc square across the jaw. Within moments, Doc fell to the floor and passed out. Pete grabbed the knocked out Irishman’s gun and pointed it at the stranger in Doc’s room.

“Now that wasn’t real smart of you to break into a scientist’s room and knock him out,” came the all too familiar mocking voice of Pete, “You just lost your only leverage. Obviously, you don’t play chess. Maybe you should stick to checkers because you are all offense but no strategy.”

Brisco rolled his eyes. He had not missed Pete’s speeches over the years, but he had to agree with Pete. The man raised his gun and Brisco watched him slowly do the math. Two men with two guns each vs. just one gun. Seeing the battle was lost, the man narrowed his eyes and looked up at Brisco.

“How dare you Yanks try to profit instead of support our cause! You have no honor! There is a fight coming and you dare to-“

“How dare you break into my employees’ rooms!” Rage began to fill Brisco’s whole being and he was shaking at the thought that Doc could have been killed. The one man who could help Brisco save James. “Do you think that I would be dumb enough to bring the weapons anywhere near town before I got paid? Kendrick was right you are stupid!”

“At least we believe in a higher calling – like freedom and-”

“I believe in nothing but the almighty dollar. And I don’t need you or your cause! In fact, I am about to call this deal off!” The anger was now erupting and he looked over to see Pete trying to hide a laugh.

“Anything you want to add?” demanded Brisco.

“Nossir! Looks like you’ve managed to say everything needed,” Pete stated with hands lifted in surrender.

At that Brisco picked the man up and threw him out of the room. “In fact, deal's off! That’s the message you can tell your employers!”

“No need to cancel the deal or to pass on a message,” came the cheerful voice of O’Banion. He had silently moved up the stairs and was standing next to Snake and the hotel manager. “Message received. Come Playfair, we’ll attend to Lonergan.”

Brisco shoved the thief with a martyr complex down the hall towards O’Banion. As the man named Playfair slowly moved down the hallway, his head seemed to lower further with each step in shamed defeat. O’Banion gave a nod to Snake and the hotel manager. They took the silent direction and moved past Pete and Brisco to pick up the unconscious man named Lonergan on the floor. The hotel manager looked at the unconscious man’s gun in Pete’s hand.

“That’s my friend’s gun.”

“And?”

“Well, it’s his” came the weak response from the hotel manager, a little less confident as he looked into Pete’s eyes.

“It’s a Beautiful Colt 45. Almost as beautiful as my piece. In fact, it’s about time, it had a mate. In essence, I would say, it was his. Past tense is key,” Pete’s voice was weighted with a threat and the all too familiar smile was spread across his face. Pete then turned both guns onto the hotel manager.

The hotel manager calculated the risk in continuing to ask for his colleague’s gun back but decided the better of it and backed off. It seemed the gun was not worth his life. And with that, the hotel manager and Snake carried their ally the rest of the way down the hall towards the departing group of Irishmen. O’Banion was the last to leave the hallway but just before he turned to leave, he gave a mock apologetic smile. “Our apologies for the confusion. Let’s all get a good night’s rest before deciding if we want to call off the deal.”

At that Brisco and Pete were left alone in the hallway. Pete began carelessly and quickly throwing any item on the floor into Rachel’s room while Brisco went to check on Doc. He was still unconscious so Brisco packed every scrap of paper that was laying about Doc’s room into Doc’s bag. When finished, Brisco looked to see that Doc’s room was still a mess but it didn’t look like there was anything from the future or about James in the room.

When Brisco checked on Pete’s progress and the state of Rachel’s room, it looked like she had luckily taken all of her weapons with her. The good news is that all of the weapons Brisco and Rachel brought would now be safe under the care of the trigger-happy Fiona. Satisfied that the only items in all three rooms were clothes and items without significance, Brisco strapped on Doc’s bag before picking up Doc and throwing him over his shoulder and heading into Pete’s direction downstairs.

- - - - - - - - -

Pete discreetly explained that he would keep guard over the rooms while Doc and Brisco met up with Michael to hammer out the rest of the plan. They had to almost mime their communications to ensure that the hotel manager and staff would not hear them. Unfortunately, charades was never Pete’s stronghold as Brisco had unfortunately learned during a mission in Mexico. It would have been hilarious if it wasn’t so frustrating.

According to Pete’s hand motions, Brisco should guide both horses east out of town and Michael would meet them just outside of town and show them where to go. At least, that’s what Brisco interpreted the hand motions to mean. But as Brisco rode out of town, he began to doubt the directions. Or maybe it was just doubt in the messenger. Brisco’s mind began to race with “what if’s,” including maybe Brisco had interpreted the motions correctly but Pete was leading him into a trap. Brisco began to look for any large boulders ahead, perhaps one painted with a starry night sky. Then he heard the sound of someone on horseback riding quickly towards them. Brisco hit the back of Doc’s horse to help Doc get away. He heard a faint moan and Brisco realized that Doc was finally starting to wake. If Doc had a voice, Brisco was sure that Doc would be shouting curses at the world. But luckily the worst that he could do was breathe heavily, which would not be heard over the horse’s hooves.

Moments like this, Brisco missed Comet. However, the thought was fleeting as Brisco had now turned the horse around and was riding toward the sound of the unknown rider. Brisco raised his gun ready to fight or shoot the stranger when he heard the familiar code, “Lightning.”

“Michael! Well, thank God for that,” thought Brisco before giving the corresponding code word, “Flash.” Brisco put his gun away and took deep breaths to allow the adrenaline to cool down as Michael rode into sight.

“Didn’t you have the scientist with you?” asked Michael.

At that Brisco groaned, kicking himself inwardly, and took off riding in the night towards where he had sent Doc. Luckily, Doc had already managed to stop the horse and was sitting awkwardly waiting for the group to catch up.

“What now?” asked Brisco. Doc sheepishly pointed up the road. He had come to a fork in the road and no one had told him where to go from here. It was clear that Doc did not want to be lost as much as Brisco did not want to lose Doc. When Michael caught up with the duo, he silently nudged his Mustang horse right and the two followed him. It was a quiet ride as the trio moved up the road and through a prairie before finally arriving at a cabin that was set in the middle of nowhere. There was a darkness billowing out of the chimney, meaning that someone had a fire going on inside along with lighted windows piercing the darkness as the small group stopped in front of the house.

“Home sweet home,” came the sarcastic yet wistful comment from Michael. The three tied up the horses and walked inside. Michael opened the door to the smell of food being cooked and two women working away. Fiona was instantly recognizable sitting at a table taking inventory of guns, ammunition, TNT, and the like. The other woman was Madeline, Michael’s mother.

“Is that your mom again?” asked Brisco, shocked to see Michael’s mother, a civilian, a part of the operation.

“Not my original idea but after years of me doing international work, she decided to make the trek to live nearby. Unfortunately, with the recent uncertainty and militarization overseas, most of my team have been reassigned. Once this mission is completed, we’ll be moving on too.”

Fiona lifted a gun to show off her hand to Brisco. “Don’t you just love it?”

“A .45 ACP – it’s a hunny,” Brisco stated as he inspected her hand before adding, “And the rock your wearing doesn’t seem too bad either.”

“I’m most excited about adding to the rest of my collection when we move to D.C. A girl can never have too many guns.”

A snort came from Madeline in the other room. Clearly, she was hoping for actual grandchildren and not a slew of guns to be “added to the family.” Whatever she was thinking, she packed it away as she lit a cigarette. She checked the food one last time and decided that it had reached a point of no longer needing her full attention, so she crossed the room and gave Brisco a big hug. “Do you want a beer?”

“When have I ever turned down a beer?” grinned Brisco.

Madeline laughed in agreement as she pulled a beer and yogurt out of the icebox. At the sound of Madeline and Brisco’s chuckles, the room changed from nervous tension to one of old friends realizing that it had been too long since they had seen each other. Fiona grinned and gave Brisco a hug shortly before Michael broke into a smile and shook Brisco’s hand.

“Your timing could not have been more perfect,” said Michael appreciatively. Madeline grinned at both men and handed Brisco his beer and Michael a yogurt and spoon.

“Everyone this is Doc, Doc this is-“

Doc angrily rummaged through the bag Brisco had packed and managed to find some paper and a pen and was furiously scribbling out giant letters. He quickly turned the paper around with the acronym W.T.F.?

“Everyone this is Doc,” Brisco sighed in exasperation before turning to his companion. “Doc, I don’t speak your science acronyms,” Brisco tiredly replied before taking a big gulp of beer. Doc rolled his eyes, turned the paper over and began writing in giant letters again.

“Hey, Maddie, maybe Doc should get a beer too?” asked Brisco, hoping a beer would take off some of Doc’s edginess.

Madeline nodded and went back to the icebox while Brisco turned back to look at Doc. By now, Doc had finished whatever he had been writing. Doc turned the paper around and emphatically pointed at the message in all capital letters.

“WHAT THE FUCK, BRISCO?”

“You write your mother with that pen?” asked Madeline incredulously as she handed Doc a beer.

Doc looked at her in aggravation but took the beer. After finishing the first gulp, it looked like he had decided on a retort but before he could whisper it, something caught his eye. Whatever it was, caused Doc to set the beer down and do a double take as he looked around the room. “Wait! I know this house!” whispered a hoarse Doc. He opened his bag again and began emptying various papers across the table.

“Yep, that’s Doc,” shrugged Brisco.

“So, to business,” stated Michael switch back into master spy mode.

“Yeah, we have a lot of things that we need to hammer out first. Such as, what am I supposedly selling? Where is it? How much is it? What’s our real target? How much time do we have?” listed Brisco in rapid fire before pausing to ask, “Not to mention, we’re working with Pete Hutter, the criminal?”

Doc banged on the table as he pointed from one map and picture to another. The group momentarily startled, continued with the discussion.

“Pete?” inquired Madeline.

“Kendrick,” explained Fiona as Madeline nodded understanding.

“That didn’t come up when you were at the hotel, did it? That could have put the mission at risk!” exclaimed Mike.

“We didn’t have time for introductions with the Irish gang and hotel manager ransacking our rooms, attempting to kidnap a scientist, and looking for weapons that I don’t actually have,” retorted Brisco.

“I promised them weapons of the future. One big item that will change the future of warfare and several small items,” Michael explained nonchalantly and in between bites of yogurt. After a pause, Mike laughed before musing, “By the way, wasn’t the coming thing your quest in the past?”

Brisco rolled his eyes and was about to respond in sarcasm when an extremely excited Doc began pounding his fist on the table. As if the pounding was not enough, he began making a weird squeaking noise as if he was trying to shout something, but his voice had been replaced by a mouse instead of his own.

Madeline gave him a look that only mothers can give which can somehow always bring silence, even during the most brutal of temper tantrums. Doc immediately responded by sitting down and looking pleading up at Madeline as if to beg assistance.

“Either your boy has a mouse in his throat or he wants your attention and I suggest you give it to him,” stated an understanding Madeline before she patted his hand and went back into the kitchen to finish the meal.

Brisco, Michael, and Fiona obeyed Madeline and focused on Doc who looked like a child trying to behave but bursting with good news. To Brisco, this was the most excited, even joyful, that he had ever seen Doc in their short acquaintance. Doc pointed at a map that he had been carrying with a sketch. He then began to write the word James on the map.

“James is coming here?” asked Brisco incredulously.

Doc responded by emphatically nodding his head.

“That seems far-fetched, nearly impossible, and highly coincidental…” objected Brisco.

Doc opened his mouth but when only squeaks came out, he frustratedly wrote out on a piece of paper, ““TOO MUCH TO EXPLAIN IN A NOTE BUT SIMPLY, I PROGRAMMED THE BRACELET TO VISIT KEY PLACES & TIMES IN HISTORY.”

“Bracelet?” called Madeline.

Brisco sighed and said, “It’s a long story.”

Madeline called out, “Then it’s the perfect time to tell it. I just finished dinner. Boys can you help me move the food to the table?”

Within moments, the fivesome were seated around the table with beers in hand and food on their plates. Between bites of food, Brisco caught the group up on James’ disappearance, the bracelet, and that Doc was here to help them rescue James and return the boy to his mother.

- - - - - - - - -

After catching Michael and the rest of the group up on Brisco’s adventures thus far and the bit of understanding that Brisco had about James and the bracelet, the group sat in a moment of silence processing how their journeys led them to cross paths.

Michael was the first to break the silence, “So, James is coming here?”

Doc nodded.

“And he’s protected by any harm from the bracelet?” asked Fiona.

Doc nodded but a bit more cautiously as he tried to determine where Michael and Fiona were going.

“And, do you feel that this place is safe and abandoned enough for him to be protected for a few hours?” Michael asked.

“Where are you going with this Mike?” asked Brisco, his suspicions raised.

Michael held his hands up in surrender. “Nothing to get upset about or to ruffle any feathers,” he quickly stated. In the moment of silence, Michael looked between Fiona and Madeline.

“Not to undermine your mission here but it sounds like James will be arriving here, as in this cabin…” began Madeline.

“And this is the safest place around,” interjected Fiona. “It’s far from town, no one know where it is…”

Madeline continued, “We can make sure that food is here and leave the girl,” she paused to point at the corner where Brisco assumed the sleeping Rachel laid, “to keep him company and to protect him when he arrives.”

Brisco considered all that they were saying. Based on the bit that he put together of the mission at hand, there was less time with Mike’s mission, and it would affect the fate of the nation, rather than the life of one person. Brisco shook his head, he could not make the decision between nation and his best friend’s son.

Madeline reached over and patted Brisco’s hand before empathetically stating, “If Doc can determine that the boy will safely land here and that he will be here long enough for us to complete Michael’s last mission in Miami, will you help us?”

Brisco looked up at Madeline but she lifted her chin to point at Michael and Fiona. As Brisco studied the couple, they tried to avoid his gaze and stare over at the fireplace. Even in the shadows, Brisco could tell that they were worn out. If this mission didn’t end soon, it might drain the last of life from each of them. They needed to leave the spy world behind, and they couldn’t do that until their last mission ended.

Brisco sighed before stating, “If Doc can prove it, we’ll help with your last mission.”

- - - - - - - - -

After many desperate mimed and written protests from Doc, Madeline finally was able to persuade him to calm down enough to listen to why this mission was so important. When she patted the boy’s shoulder, she noticed that he would flinch as though the interaction unnerved him. As she studied the boy, it became clear to her that he had never experienced a maternal influence in his life. She switched the young man from beer to hot tea and studied how worn the boy looked. He seemed to be wasting away in front of the group, as though the simple act of sitting around a table talking to the others was draining his energy. He looked like he was slowly dying.

“It’s not enough to know who the Irish gang members are, we need to find out who their benefactor is and who is giving them their targets,” explained Michael.

“My countrymen seem truly devoted to the independence of Ireland but-“ Fiona stopped midsentence.

“But it seems like there is a darker force pulling the strings in an effort to thwart British and American governments,” theorized Brisco, the pieces seemed to be fitting together.

“What better way to cause distraction in a government than to spawn a rebellion from its people?” asked Michael. “Think about it, the Irish Catholics challenge the British Empire while the labored and forgotten masses are fighting in America.”

“Who do you think it is?” inquired Brisco, curiosity peaked.

“I’ve got a few theories,” began a cautious Michael before changing the subject. “Honestly, the most important thing is to catch the persons behind the anarchists and give them the boot… it’s not determining if I’m right or wrong.”

Madeline looked between Doc slowly sipping his tea while absorbing the information and the sleeping Rachel in the corner. These kids and James should stay out of this fight, there would be plenty of more adventures down the road for each of them.

“Once Doc proves that James will be safe, why don’t we leave Doc and Rachel here to wait for James. We don’t really need all of us? Aren’t Brisco and Kendrick enough?” asked Madeline with worry in her voice.

“Unfortunately, Doc, you’re involved. And if you’re a scientist then we’ll need your help designing the weapon. We’ll need the weapons to be detailed enough to give us time to identify the key players, dispose of the ancillary characters, and abduct the instigators,” said Michael.

“Or at least fascinating faux weapon with all kinds of do-dad’s that I can talk about as part of the sales presentation,” said Brisco.

“Exactly,” agreed Fiona.

Doc sighed. This adventure was becoming more complicated by the minute. Now there was this additional scheme. What made this moment all the more disappointing was that Doc had actually studied this event and had hoped to witness it occurring. Instead, his presence had moved it off kilter and quite possibly would lead to this mission’s failure. Originally, Brisco was supposed to be in Hollywood far away from this adventure and Michael’s boss, Jesse, was supposed to play the part of the seller in the mission. Instead, Brisco was involved and if the mission was not a success, the destruction of America and possibly the entire Allied Force of the Great War would be their new future, his new past.

Doc set his tea down and ran his fingers through his mess of curly blonde hair. He let out a slow breath and closed his eyes. It was clear that he was over his head but he needed to do whatever was possible to protect the outcome of this event. Doc slowly nodded to show his acquiescence and explained via written diagrams that James should arrive in a nearby cellar, he would not only be safe away from Miami, but tucked away in a storm cellar. Based on the time charts, he would not be leaving again until the day’s end which would be hours after the mission was supposed to be completed.

As Brisco and Michael picked up Rachel to place her into the storm cellar and to move out the rest of the guns hidden away down there, Doc pulled out some sheets of paper and began drawing a variety of sketches. Doc realized that he did not want to alter history any further by giving them actual inventions not available yet but he still needed the ideas to look futuristic and dangerous. Doc made several designs, the first set were field artillery that were already invented, or just about to be, which he knew would not adversely affect coming events. He gave the sketches and instructions to Madeline so that she could provide everything to Michael, Brisco, and Fiona to build out of scrap metal.

Once that was completed, he began on his “futuristic” designs which were more of sketches of current vehicles, clothing, and weaponry and adding a steampunk flavor to it. Doc began with the easiest designs, the clothing which included jackets, pants suits, and hats with various cogs and wheels. He then began to sketch various Ford T Models but wings to let it fly and an inflatable boat underneath it. He also drew versions that could expel smoke out the back and had mini canons installed in the front. All of the vehicles were inspired by movies he’d seen in his research, specifically “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” and “The Great Race.” For a moment Doc was worried that Brisco would bring the sketches to Hollywood but then decided that these designs falling into cinematic hands early would not be a detriment to future events. However, as Doc rubbed his eyes, he realized that he was humming the theme song for Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. “If only this were as simple as Dick Van Dyke singing a song and the world simply resolving itself into a happy ending.”

As Madeline brought Doc another cup of tea, Doc tried to avoid her eyes. “How had Karina avoided Brisco and Bowler noticing how our bodies are no longer strong enough to be in this oxygen rich environment? That the more time we spend out in this world experiencing everything as it should be, that our bodies get more and more strained?” thought Doc. As Doc briefly peered outside, Brisco, Michael, and Fiona did seem oblivious. They were each taking turns moving the pieces into place and finding surreptitious and quick ways to bind the scraps together in an effort to fool people looking at the items. It seemed that the only person who noticed Doc’s health issues was Madeline.

As Doc finished one sketch and began to work on the next, he glanced up for a moment. Madeline had stopped hurrying about the kitchen and had sat opposite him. She had lit a cigarette but it dangled, forgotten, from her hand. She smiled at him as though she had adopted him and signaled that she knew he was hiding something. Doc gave his most impish grin and winked at her as if to say that there was nothing to worry about. As Doc began working on his next idea, he became so engrossed in the sketch that he did not register her kind pat on his shoulder as she left the small house to find Michael.

- - - - - - - - -

“Michael, someone needs your help!” Madeline sternly whispered.

Brisco, Michael, and Fiona had found a stopping point in their tasks and were excitedly reviewing their upcoming roles in the sale and kidnap later in the day. At Madeline’s interruption, they all stopped to stare at her.

“Ma, we’re in the process of saving ourselves, the nation, and James… who could we have possibly missed?” inquired an incredulous Michael.

“Doc.”

“What?” scoffed Brisco. “He’s just an indoor scientist, just not used to being outdoors.”

“I’m telling you, there is something more than that wrong with that boy!” insisted Madeline.

“Look Madey,” began Brisco before considering the rest of his words. He began again, “Look, Madey, I know that he doesn’t look like he’s fairing well. Part of it is like a person from a flat part of the world going to the top of a mountain, there’s an altitude sickness-“

“That’s not it-“ interrupted a frustrated Madeline.

Brisco held up his hand to pause her. “Look, I know that’s not the whole story. I don’t claim that it is. I am hoping that once we get James tomorrow that he’ll be able to go home and to fully recuperate with doctors of his own time. But right now, he wants to pretend that it’s not keeping him from today’s mission and I’m not about to rob him of his pride.”

“Ma- I think Brisco’s right. We need to respect how he wants to be treated.”

Madeline opened her mouth to protest but then changed her mind. She took another deep inhale of her cigarette before flicking it into the darkness. “It’ll be light soon. You all should get at least an hour or two of sleep before heading out. I’ll work on getting food together for James and for Rachel.”

At that, Madeline moved back into the house, slamming the door behind her. The trio outside took one last look at their makeshift artillery and decided that they would be good enough for the show in a few hours. The small group silently went inside to attempt to nap before the stressful day would begin.

- - - - - - - - -

“When he gets frustrated about the weapons quality, I bring out the sketches of the other design,” Brisco stated to confirm the plan one last time over breakfast. Brisco forced himself to drink the coffee and eggs but found that it was hard to drink or eat after a sleepless night.

Michael nodded to confirm as Fiona pointed her strip of bacon at the group before inquiring, “At that point, do we shoot them?”

“Fiona-“sighed Madeline as she rolled her eyes. She had a freshly brewed pot of coffee and went around the small table refilling everyone’s mugs.

“I am just teasing,” Fiona stated as innocently as possible while not fooling anyone in the room. She rolled her eyes and said in a disappointed tone, “At that point, we gas the room.”

“Exactly. Our target is O’Banion and whomever he works for. Washington is hoping to be able to interrogate both men to obtain as much information as possible. He may be able to help us resolve numerous conflicts on our own soil,” directed Michael, for what felt like the tenth time over breakfast.

“Then we shoot them,” muttered Fiona. Michael opened his mouth as if to add or correct her but closed it and began busying himself by looking for a yogurt in the icebox.

“Who is picking the leaders up again?” asked Brisco, hoping it was someone that he could trust to carry out justice.

“US Attorney Brigstone. Think you worked with him back in the day.”

“He’s not my favorite individual but he’ll do.”

“You mean they’ll serve the death penalty?” a hopeful Fiona asked.

Michael paused to scoop out another mouthful of yogurt before continuing his summary of the day’s agenda, “And then we’ll head straight back here and work on getting James home and the bracelet removed,” The group then turned their attention to Doc. He seemed content to eat his breakfast and drink his tea and only looked up when he realized that all eyes were watching him.

“And you back to your timeline,” exclaimed Brisco as he patted Doc on the back. Brisco gave a forced laugh as he stated, “I have to say, you future time travelers manage to make my life hell every time you visit!”

Doc responded with a half-smile before turning his attention back onto his food.

“Well,” mused Madeline, “that you know of.”

Brisco looked at her in disbelief before incredulously demanding, “What does that mean?”

“Well,” began Madeline thoughtfully as she lit another cigarette, “None of the rest of us had any idea of time travelers or that time travel was even possible before today. It stands to reason that not all of them are conspicuous and that there may be some more covert operatives from the future that have come and gone without causing a ruckus.” She suddenly looked at Doc realizing that he might have taken offense before apologizing, “No offense or disrespect, Doc.”

“Let’s run through the plan again before you two leave to meet up with Pete,” commanded Michael in an effort to change the subject.

“Again?” squeaked the shocked and hoarse Doc.

“Yes, again,” replied a calm Michael. “When you’re a spy, your team is counting on you to know your role inside and out.”

Part II - Chapter 07 - Remembering How to be a Spy

The previous day's train ride

Brisco was unsure what to expect when he arrived in Miami. While it was true that Brisco was part of the burn notice process, it was only known to a small group of people that it was done to root out spies from foreign countries.

In the past decade there had been numerous advancements. Not only had technology evolved at a rapid pace and across the western world but social classes were becoming pictures of a dying age with the rise of a “middle class.” However, despite the positive changes in the world, there were many military and economic advisors to the president who felt like the European elite and royal families were finding new ways to express dominance over the other. Watching the royals amass wealth, new technology, and military advancements, had made many presidential analysts worry that the royal greed would grow beyond nationalism. That a large war was on the verge of sparking, one spanning across countries and implementing larger armies and new weapons. Brisco felt that if it did occur, it would be unlike any other war in history.

To make matters worse, there was a growing concern that the war would not remain on the other side of the globe. Reports were coming in that the labor disputes may not just be anarchists but perhaps operatives of foreign countries looking to sabotage the political and economic systems of the United States. Unfortunately, there was yet to be any solid proof, just rumors. Between the rumors and what foreign analysts were predicting about the rising tension in Europe, the president decided that the signs were troubling enough and assigned Michael to go undercover.

Michael could pick his team while under cover and as Brisco was part of the scheme to accuse and to shame Michael, Brisco could not join this mission. Besides which, it was going to be a long process, at least 7 years.

Brisco had wired ahead to Michael’s handler, Jesse, in order to get in touch with Michael for some help. Jesse would let Brisco know if they had the “all clear” to head into Miami. Although with or without Jesse’s blessing, Brisco had already determined that his small trio was going into Miami as he felt that he owed it to Bowler. Brisco continued to think through an outline of a plan and responded in monosyllables to Doc’s ongoing inane questions. Just as Brisco was sure that a demand for a response was about to occur, Brisco was saved by the click of someone opening the train compartment door. Brisco raised his hand to shush the group. While it was clear that Brisco’s counterparts did not want the conversation to end, the room was quick to quiet down to ensure that confidential information would not be revealed.

A waiter came in and began to pass out saucers and cups stating that Brisco had ordered coffee. Just as Brisco was about to state that he had not ordered coffee and would not be paying for it, a coffee cup was placed into his hands. He looked down at the cup and there was a small sheet of paper inside with two words. “Chuck Finley,” Brisco’s old code name. So, it appeared that he was not only welcome to Miami but would be playing a part while in town. At that, he took the coffee carafe and poured it into his cup making the tiny sheet of paper rise to the top. Brisco took a long sip and swallowed the sheet of paper.

Knowing his behavior appeared unexpected and rude to the occupants of the small train compartment, Brisco covered his behavior by innocently asking, “What? Did you want coffee?”

After arriving in Miami, Brisco kept an eye out for a contact to provide a message about the mission at hand. “What trouble did Mikey get into? How would Brisco fit into the plan – as despised informant or as a new character? How would Brisco be able to balance spy craft and a rescue mission? Is it even be possible to do both?”

Brisco shook the anxious thoughts from his mind. If he didn’t pay attention, he could miss the contact. As if on cue, Brisco spotted her, Fiona. While most people would be difficult to identify in a dark veil and dress at night, Fiona could still be identified by her thin form and short stature. She was walking in the opposite direction so it made it easy for Brisco to trip into her path. In a matter of seconds, Brisco was able to apologize and muttered something about the moonlight as he feigned an apologetic handshake. Fiona did not reply but returned the handshake to surreptitiously palm a message to Brisco. She waved him away as though she were too important to be bothered by a town visitor and Brisco tipped his hat as she pushed past him. Brisco was able to then sneak the note into his coat pocket as his traveling companions continued towards the hotel, unaware of the secret information transaction. Brisco hadn’t missed a beat during the brief encounter but within moments, Brisco began thinking, “I certainly don’t miss all of this cloak and dagger bullshit.”

Only a minute later, Brisco heard the sound of Doc asking a question but the question was too soft to make out.

“What’s up Doc?”

Doc cleared his throat. “All of this travel is making my throat hurt. Do you know if our hotel rooms will have kettles in the room or at least, room service available for ordering tea?”

Brisco rolled his eyes and exclaimed, “Believe it or not, I don’t know. I have never been to this town before, so I have never seen this hotel or what services they offer. It’s not like I can pull up photographs, a list of amenities, and guest reviews out of thin air before a visit to a new town in order to decide on the perfect hotel.”

“Sometimes, I hate this time period” an increasingly hoarse Doc moaned.

They walked into the hotel and Brisco grabbed the guestbook before Rachel or Doc could reach the hotel desk. Brisco used his old alias “Chuck Finley” for the reservation and paid extra to ensure that the only name in relation to the rooms would be Brisco’s alias. Best to not involve Doc or Rachel, thought Brisco. They would need to be available to rescue James in case Mikey’s mission took longer than Brisco anticipated. In fact, Brisco could not get a better clue of what to expect until he got to his room and could read the paper away from curious eyes. The hotel manager read the name and looked up with recognition and anticipation. Brisco tipped his hat, unsure if the look of recognition meant that the hotel manager was on Mikey’s side or with the anarchists. The paper felt as though it was beginning to burn a hole through Brisco’s jacket and he shooed his traveling companions upstairs towards their rooms. Brisco gave his friends their keys as he assigned rooms to Doc and Rachel, the 3 rooms were side-by-side and Brisco took the middle one so that he could keep both individuals within earshot. He told them goodnight as he watched them enter their respective rooms. As excitement and impatience grew in Brisco’s stomach, he could almost swear that Rachel was intentionally moving slowly to drag out time before going into her room. When Brisco finally watched both doors close and lock, Brisco felt safe enough to enter his own room. As soon as Brisco entered his room, he threw his bag down and dug out the piece of paper.

C.F. – Weapons Sale Begins Tonight at 10. Meeting at Saloon Across Street. Hotel Staff Unfriendly.

Brisco looked at the clock on the wall and noted it was only 9:30 pm. Brisco paused as he listened to the rooms on either side of his room but both were silent. If Rachel’s room was silent, it would mean that she was either passed out asleep without changing clothes or she was listening on the other side of the wall. Based on her curiosity and slow movements, Brisco guessed the latter. Doc’s room was also silent but based on the sore throat and Doc’s normal state of attire, he might very well be asleep in his clothes.

Brisco lit a match and burned the note before taking off his shoes and laying down in the bed to stare up at the ceiling and consider what clues he had gleaned thus far about this mission. The fact that the train waiter and Fiona did not introduce themselves to Rachel and Doc and that neither individual were mentioned in the note, it was clear that the locals did not want Brisco’s companions involved in whatever scheme which was underway. That gave Brisco a bit of relief. Rachel and Doc could stay out of any harm’s way, rescue James, and hopefully keep James out of any trouble.

Hotel staff unfriendly,” did give Brisco some concern. There would be eyes and ears in the hotel so any communication about American agenda or about technology from the future would be catastrophic to discuss. It also meant that they might be in danger if Brisco left the hotel. The thought of danger left Brisco’s mind almost as quickly as it arrived as he thought of Rachel. He had watched her beat up so many men on Hollywood sets that it not only made Brisco smile but helped put his mind at ease. Rachel would be able to keep Doc safe while keeping an eye out for James’ arrival.

As Brisco began to think again about what the mission might be, old missions that he worked with Michael and Fiona came to mind. In the past, Mikey would say things like, “As a spy, it’s critical to know your team. If you know your people inside and out, you can work together in emergency situations without a lot of background, such as key individuals, targets, or mission updates.” It was hard to believe that it had been 8 years since the two had worked together. That was enough time for skills to rust or information about old spy buddies to fade. Brisco hoped they had not forgotten key elements of their friendship and knowledge of each other, otherwise the likelihood of surviving the mission would radically decrease.

“Of course, I could be worrying about nothing,” came the logical thought to Brisco’s mind. If the deal was supposed to occur at 10 pm, maybe Brisco would just play a small part and move on. Be the face of a traveling salesman for a couple hours and then Michael and Fiona could help Brisco locate and rescue James.

Brisco looked at the clock. 9:50 pm. Maybe if he arrived early, he could get a better idea of what to expect during the Miami stay before the weapons sale. Besides it had been twenty minutes and still not a sound from either Rachel or Doc’s room. Clearly the girl and the scientist had gone to sleep. Brisco quickly put his shoes back on, washed his face in the basin, grabbed his gun and quickly left the room. Brisco moved to stand in front of Rachel’s door for a moment, debating to tell her that he was going out and to ask her to guard Doc. But after an internal debate, Brisco decided to let the actress sleep rather than risk her following him to the saloon. Mind made up, Brisco descended the stairs and out the hotel door to find the saloon.

- - - - - - - - -

Brisco entered the saloon and immediately spotted the impeccably dressed Mikey who was sitting at a table for 4. As a spy, Mike had picked a table where he had the best vantage point of the entire area between the mirror behind the bar to the angle that he sat his chair. In fact, he could probably even get a view of the outside through the bar’s window. Michael, always calculating and always on the defense.

Brisco sat down as Michael poured a drink for him from the whiskey bottle on the table. As Brisco sipped his drink, Michael began to speak in an Irish accent, “There’s not much that I’ll be sayin to ya before our meetin.”

Brisco sighed. Not only would he not get details before the meeting but this was clearly involve the Irish Citizen Army, ICA for short, f Irish accents were involved. Brisco knew that there had been uprisings with the Irish Transport & General Workers Union recently and it seemed that Ireland had an increased restlessness and were renewing their efforts to become independent of the British Empire. If the ICA were looking for weapons, it could be the sign of more factory bombs or other anarchist behavior which the government was working to hide from public awareness. It could also be an indicator of international weapons trade to Irish nationals working to be freed from the British Empire. Either way, this group would be truly dangerous.

Brisco and Michael began to talk of mundane items such as travel and the weather since Michael made it clear that he would not be explaining anything until later. But it helped Brisco get an idea of the role that he was about to play. Based on the lack of a handshake and the only greeting being a curt nod from Michael, Brisco would be playing an acquaintance and not a long-time friend. Additionally, Brisco was recruited to play a shady character based on Michael’s coldness towards Brisco. Brisco had already pieced together that Michael was posing as an Irishman, based on the lilt. However, the lack of signals from Michael about Brisco’s lexicon and accent, meant that Brisco would be an American.

By the time the remaining two chairs were filled by the men Michael was expecting, Brisco felt that he had enough background of his story to muddle through this meeting. As Michael poured drinks for the other two men, Brisco could study the added table members. The two men who joined the small party were both Irishmen, with bowler hats and wore their handguns proudly. They were not dressed as well as Michael, but both were wearing suits. Both men were clean shaven with dark bushy eyebrows to go with their brown hair. The only things that really stood out to Brisco was that the main man who was speaking had a narrow and pointed nose with a round face while the other man had more of a fat nose with a narrow and well-defined face.

Brisco was able to make speedy observations about the Irish men in a manner of moments and had barely missed the initial small-chat between Michael and the newcomers. Brisco was able to make one last observation before the business meeting officially began. Based on their lack of handshakes, Brisco realized that the character he was playing had an ill reputation that had preceded the introduction.

“So, this is the chap, eh? I thought he’d be dressed more as a dandy,” one of the men stated as his eyes critiqued Brisco’s clothes.

“Last I checked, you’re here to look at my merchandise not to say ‘yes’ to how I dress,” retorted Brisco.

“You found enough time to drop off your girl and young man at the hotel,” said the second man as Brisco continued to enjoy his whiskey. Clearly, this man wanted it understood that his people were everywhere, including in the hotel.

Brisco leaned back in his chair and gave his most charming and at ease smile. “Employees,” stated Brisco. “As a spy, when your opponent is determined to unnerve you by acting like they know more than you, it’s best to do the exact opposite. Show them that you are at ease with the world and have nothing to hide.” To that end, Brisco slouched further in his chair to make himself more comfortable and took another gulp of his drink. “Am I drinking alone here?” Brisco asked the group.

“Trusted employees?” asked Michael. He was staring down at his glass of whiskey, which he had hardly touched. The question clearly had a double meaning.

“I think what my overly cautious friend, Michael, is trying to ask is, will we be doing business with all three of you or just you?”

“Time to up the ante in this game,” thought Brisco before he said aloud, “Considering you have exchanged pleasantries amongst yourselves and didn’t bother to give me your names and have been watching me and my people during our short time in town, I’d say that I am the one who should be cautious. In fact, I still have not decided if I would like to do business with you. How do I know that you aren’t cops? Besides, I may not be loyal to a cause but I do have an obligation to my men and will not allow any unnecessary harm come to them,” Brisco finished the statement by crossing his arms across his chest in defiance. He was taking a chance of destroying Mike’s mission by not immediately agreeing to this deal, but he did not like the idea of a threat on Rachel or Doc’s lives. Brisco had people relying on him for safety and he could not risk their safety without knowing more about what the hell was going on.

Brisco looked over at Michael who had the smallest hint of an amused smile, but it was gone before anyone else could spot it. “There’s the Mikey I know,” thought Brisco. Brisco was relieved to see that Mike had not been lost in his undercover identity. Additionally, Brisco’s confidence increased as the craft of being a spy was coming back to Brisco much quicker than anticipated.

“I can respect that,” the first man stated. “We are all brothers in arms and it’s up to us to protect the men fighting on either side of us,” the man nodded in agreement. “Name’s Dean O’Banion and my associate is Snake Kinney.”

While they still refused to shake hands with Brisco, names had been provided and curt nods of heads which at least ensured that they had more skin in the game. “Now what?” thought Brisco as he finished his drink.

Luckily, Michael stepped in, “So, without further eloquence, let’s begin at the beginning. O’Banion and Burns are planning an upcoming event and they need you to provide the entertainment.”

“And that’s it?” asked Brisco, more stating the question than asking.

“Of course, there would be payment for services rendered and a finder’s fee to our mutual acquaintance,” explained O’Banion as he nodded to Michael. Michael lifted his glass in acknowledgement and finished its contents.

“As a reminder, I provide the equipment but I don’t entertain,” Brisco stated firmly. Brisco knew that he wanted as small a part as possible in this rouse as there was already too much on his plate.

O’Banion smiled, “Naturally.”

Brisco leaned forward and rubbed his hands together as though he were calculating time, equipment, and cost, “When would you need everything?”

“Yesterday,” Snake replied. His voice seemed unnaturally absent from any emotion and the coolness felt more like a snake, than a man. “Probably how he got his nickname,” thought Brisco.

O’Banion chimed in with a more positive and uplifting tone as though the four were old friends discussing an upcoming picnic, “What my associate means is that our event has a moving target date but we are hoping to complete our goal as swiftly and as efficiently as possible.”

“When you last telegraphed me, you said that you would be bringing everything necessary today, that we would have a demonstration by tomorrow, but that you would only finalize deals with the head of an organization,” Michael stated in a chastising tone.

“So, that must be it, realized Brisco, this purchase is an effort to bring out the wizard from behind the curtain.”

“That part is still true,” Brisco replied as he rubbed his chin before changing into an impish smile, “I need to look into the eyes and shake hands when I make a deal like this, especially with the amount of money that I am losing on this deal,” Brisco complained in an effort to lean further into the part of a repulsively selfish merchant. “I mean the amount we were talking is fine but it’s not as much as I would normally receive for such an event-“

“It’s enough,” O’Banion interrupted. It seemed at the mention of funds, all good humor was erased from O’Banion’s face. “Besides, we are paying in the blood of our brothers not just in the cash that lines your greedy pockets.” O’Banion took a deep breath, looked down in his lap, and suddenly looked back up at the group, face as composed into a smile as possible. But even with the smile on O’Banion’s face, there was a hardness behind his eyes as though Brisco had crossed a line.

After a few more moments of small talk, O’Banion stood from the table before announcing, “Gentlemen, I think it’s time to call it a night. We have a long day tomorrow of demonstrations, and apparently, negotiations.”

The rest of the table stood and walked with O’Banion as he led the small party towards the back door. As Brisco finished the last of his whiskey, he saw that Michael was momentarily distracted by something. When Brisco turned to look in a similar direction, all he found was the small bar window peering out into an empty space between buildings. Brisco was forced to let the curious moment go to keep up the performance as a shady weapons dealer. Within moments, the foursome stood outside the back door which faced into an unlit alley. The Irishmen shook Michael’s hand and curtly nodded at Brisco before walking down the dark and deserted alleyway.

Michael pretended to light a cigarette and offered one to Brisco. Neither of them smoked but they needed an extra couple minutes to talk discreetly.

“It’s good to see you Brisco,” Michael said. His voice so low that Brisco could just barely hear it.

“We have a hell of a lot to catch up on,” mused Brisco.

“Unfortunately, the first item of business is the girl that came to town with you-“

“Rachel?”

“Yeah, she followed you to the saloon.”

“Shit! I was afraid she would nose her way into this. I was hoping she would be asleep while I met you here.”

“The good news is that we might be able to use your team to help us finish the mission.”

“Finish?”

“Finally,” sighed Michael. There was a heaviness in his voice as though this mission took more out of him than any previous assignment. Michael looked at Brisco before continuing, “The President says that he wants me back in Washington. He thinks my experience will make me a strong strategist and operations man, especially if a war breaks out overseas.”

“God forbid,” muttered Brisco.

“God forbid,” agreed Michael. “Brisco, I gotta know. Is your group an asset or a potential liability to wrapping up this assignment?”

Brisco paused to reflect on his counterparts before responding, “Rachel is a good shot but feels that she needs to prove something most days,”

“Another Fiona, you mean?” chuckled Michael as Brisco nodded his head in agreement.

“And the other guy is a scientist. A complete civilian. He can’t even handle a hotel that won’t wait on him hand and foot. It’s like it’s his first time out of a lab, much less, outdoors.”

Michael considered the descriptions for a moment before musing aloud, “A scientist might actually come in handy for your cover. Slightly off subject, but I have an old acquaintance of yours in town.”

Something about the way Michael said “acquaintance” made Brisco uneasy. Before Brisco could query further, they heard a slight commotion around the side of the building. Upon turning the corner to stand between the bar and the next building, Brisco and Michael found Rachel knocked out and on the ground. Standing over the actress’ body was Fiona, scrounging for weapons.

“Fi was that really necessary?” asked Brisco feeling conflicted emotions of irritation and amusement of the situation.

“I don’t have patience for amateurs,” was Fiona’s quick reply.

“I don’t have the patience for anything to go wrong; not when we’re this close,” grumbled Michael as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Unfortunately, Michael had spoken too soon. Something caught Michael’s eye and he pushed Brisco further down the passage between the buildings and towards the hotel.

“It looks like my inside man just signaled that there is a problem at the hotel,” Michael explained. Dread filled Brisco as he took off in the direction of the hotel. He looked over his shoulder for just a moment to catch a glimpse of Michael picking up Rachel and place her into a Ford Model-T as Fiona climbed into the driver’s seat.

A few minutes later, Michael caught up with Brisco quickly before directing, “I can’t look like I’m on your side so I will wait for you behind the hotel. You and Kendrick will have to go in and handle whatever is going wrong inside. If they are searching your rooms, you may have to strong arm them out to keep them from discovering that the weapon we are selling doesn’t exist. If they realize that it’s not there, I’d advise you tell them that the demonstration is tomorrow and you are not so dumb as to leave weapons unattended. Remind them that you only sell to their organization’s boss.”

Brisco nodded his head to acknowledge the plan before Michael silently moved back into the shadows to ensure that his cover was not compromised. As Brisco reached the hotel doors into the lobby a familiar voice from the shadows sent a shock through Brisco, “Hellooo Brisco!”

Brisco slowly turned around and stepped into the light to confirm his suspicion.

It was Pete Hutter!

Part II - Chapter 06 - The Irishmen in Miami

It was midday when they arrived in town. Unfortunately, there were not any horses or other transportation that they were able to spot on their run. Rachel could feel a stitch in her side so she took a couple deep breaths to push through the pain. Over the course of the run she had explained the little information that she knew – how she met Brisco in Hollywood, that he was asked by Lenore to locate James, and that they had located some kind of doctor or professor (she still wasn’t sure of his true identity and no one would explain it to her). All she really knew about “Doc” was that he was there to help solve the mystery of James’ misadventures and to help get him home. Rachel had tried to explain the little that she could understand about the scientist’s explanations thus far explained – that the bracelet would protect the wearer from any harm thus making him bulletproof. There was something off in the bracelet causing his landings to result in forcing him in enclosed and random locations instead of in clearings. The final part of the bracelet was still confusing to Rachel, the bit about the bracelet can send an individual “home.”

“It sounds to me like this Doc guy might be able to help me get back to my life.” James pulled out a pocket watch to study the time. It had been almost 3 hours since he last landed which meant that time was running out before the bracelet would propel him to a new location.

James followed Rachel’s lead as they snuck back to the hotel where the traveling trio had checked into the night before. She led James up the stairs to Doc’s room but when they knocked on the door, there was no answer. Rachel twisted the doorknob but it was locked. Rachel quickly removed a hair pin and started fidgeting with the lock. Just as she was about to unlock the door, a couple started walking down the hallway. They were laughing obnoxiously but hushed when they eyed James and Rachel. James had blocked the door lock and began laughing himself. It was a deep, booming laugh that made her feel safe.

“I keep telling you girl, you have had too much to drink. There should be 1 lock not 3 of ‘em.” He nodded at the couple as they passed by. However, they seemed satisfied that James & Rachel were inebriated as well and began to laugh as they moved down the hall. Rachel took a sigh of relief and finally opened the door.

As Rachel and James looked around, it was clear that the doctor was not in the room. “Has he been kidnapped as well?” asked James eyeing the papers and clothes strewn about the room.

Rachel rolled her eyes, “Nope. That’s just Doc. He says that there’s a method to his chaos but sometimes I feel like he lives in more madness than method.”

As they began to survey the room for evidence of Doc’s whereabouts they heard a loud commotion downstairs. Raised voices in disagreement.

“Here you go, Doc. Celebrate! I’m about to make you rich!” exclaimed a familiar voice. Rachel gasped as she realized who it belonged to. “That’s Brisco!” she whispered, more in shock than in a need to be unheard.

She ran out the door and down the hallway without thinking. Rachel had only made it to the top of the stairs when a hand grabbed hers and spun her around. “Wait! We need to be smart about this. We only have the one gun, do you have any others? Do we know who he’s talking to?”

Rachel kicked herself internally. Of course, she knew not to take off running but she couldn’t resist a familiar voice and the thought of finally having this adventure completed. Rachel led James to her room but was shocked to find her room also destroyed. Her luggage looked like it had been dumped out and items thrown about the room.

“Hotel maid’s day off?”

An embarrassed Rachel quickly grabbed a corset that had caught on a door handle and threw it into her bag along with other intimate items. “I didn’t even unlace my shoes last night, much less throw my clothes around my room.”

“Maybe the maid gets paid extra for unpacking?”

“Hardly,” responded Rachel with a raised eyebrow as she turned to look at James for a moment.

“Anything missing?”

“The important item isn’t,” Rachel replied as she finally found her derringer pistol. She had hidden it with the folds of her bag so that it would not have been found or confiscated should her luggage be searched. Clearly, her decision to surreptitiously pack the gun had been the correct call.

“That’s it?” James asked incredulously.

Rachel pointed about the room before stating, “Unfortunately, Michael and Fi took the guns I was wearing last night when they knocked me out.”

“Hopefully, two guns will be enough,” muttered James as he followed Rachel out of the room. The two silently moved down the stairs and across the lobby to the dining area where they could hear voices. A bearded man with long hair and dressed in black was guarding the door.

Seeing James and Rachel walk towards him, the man tipped his hand and with a large smile stated, “The dining area is closed for a private event. We recommend visiting any other restaurant in town and I thank you to vacate the premises immediately.”

James turned as though about to leave before quickly turning back and punched the door keeper in the gut. The man bent over in pain but merely grunted in agony as James was bringing both hands as one fist down on the back of the guard’s head. The bearded man was passed out on the floor within moments. Rachel gracefully stepped over the body as though he were a stunt man in a movie and cautiously opened the door. As she peered through the cracked door she recognized O’Banion, the man from the picture that James found at the house. Even though the man was looking in a different direction and she could only see his profile, Rachel instantly recognized the man. The other man had his back to James and Rachel so they couldn’t be identified. However, the men had their guns pointed towards the center of the room. Across the room, two figures were standing with an arsenal spread out across the tables behind them.

Rachel squinted to see who was in the middle of the room and realized it was Michael and Brisco County as she heard Brisco’s voice, “Listen, we don’t want any trouble. But a deal’s a deal.”

“We need a demonstration not pretty pictures. We need to see what we are about to purchase in action!” came a thick Irish accent.

Rachel looked over to see if James was hearing all of this information but to her horror, he was laying on the floor, knocked out. She looked up to see the hotel manager and Burns both pointing guns at her.

“I don’t take kindly to spies in my establishment,” sneered the hotel manager as he took the gun from Santa Barbara, “But I also don’t take kindly to blood in my hotel. So, you will kindly lead the way to the back alley.” When Rachel refused to move, Burns moved his pointed gun down at the knocked-out James and cocked it to signal that any attempt at heroics would cost James’ life. She had no choice but to turn towards the door.

They only walked a few steps outside before Rachel was ordered to stop. As she turned around, she noticed that only the hotel manager had followed her out. Burns had stayed inside.

“Who are you working for?” demanded the hotel manager.

“Excuse me?” asked Rachel. She had figured that an executioner would be more interested in silencing their prisoners rather than interrogating the individual.

“Who are you working for?” repeated the hotel manager.

“Hollywood,” answered Rachel truthfully. This answer did not amuse her captor so he aimed and shot at her feet. “Try again.”

“What do you want?” asked Rachel attempting to gain the upper hand.

“Information.”

“Well, you won’t get any.” He shot again, this time just above her head. “By hook or by crook, we will.”

“Who are you?” demanded an indignant Rachel. The more that he was playing this game of shooting near Rachel as a method of intimidation, the more that fear left her and was replaced by a volcanic ire.

“The captor of room number two.”

Rachel’s anger had reached the boiling point but before she could let loose her temper, the door opened behind her. She turned to see James slowly coming out of the door behind her. Her mouth about hit the ground as she saw the person behind James was not Burns. “It was Doc! Doc is pointing a gun at James!”

“Ah! I see that you have met Mr. Finley’s associate. Apparently, he’s mute but very handy with weapon research and development.”

Rachel turned to face her captor again, too bewildered to commit to any one emotion. “I have tired of your evasiveness girl” and he shot Rachel just below her right collar bone. With all of the injuries Rachel had sustained over the years, nothing compared to the pain of this gunshot wound. Rachel heard someone screaming in pain and did not realize that it was her own voice until Rachel saw the ground begin to rise up to meet her. The closer the ground came to her face, the darker the world seemed to become. She couldn’t tell if it was tears that made the world so dark or if her body was going into shock. When it seemed that she was inches from the ground, she felt strong arms around her and the world around suddenly becoming bright.

“Oh my God! Is this what death looks like?”

Part II - Chapter 05 - The Actress in the Storm Cellar

When Rachel awoke, she was sitting in some kind of poorly lit underground room. As her eyes adjusted she was able to note that it was a large room, with dim electric bulbs lining the area and a ladder on the far side of the room. Rachel studied the room before determining that she was in a storm shelter. The only furniture available was a small table with a wooden chair. Sitting on the clearly uncomfortable chair was a small woman, armed to the teeth. She had several pistols lined up across the table, two rifles behind her, and a judge in a state of being cleaned on the small table. She looked over the judge to stare at Rachel with a look of reproach only matched by Crystal when Rachel missed an easy target.

“Where am I?” asked Rachel as she struggled to get up. Based on the pain shooting up her arms, it was clear that her hands were tied behind her. Her head felt woozy as it protested any quick movements.

“Miami,” came the curt reply. Rachel could only roll her eyes.

“I meant specifically…?” clarified Rachel.

When the woman ignored Rachel to focus on her gun, Rachel began a slew of questions, “Why am I here? What did I do to deserve this treatment?”

Before the small woman could reply, the well-dressed man came in.

“Fi!” he exclaimed sharply as he looked at Rachel’s condition. He moved quickly across the room and untied Rachel.

“It’s time,” said the man. “Was it Rachel’s imagination or did he no longer have an Irish accent?” The rest of the conversation was stated in low whispers as the man and “Fi” loaded up the guns and climbed the rickety ladder to the doors of the storm shelter. Upon reaching the top, the man pulled the ladder up and out of the shelter while “Fi” aimed two pistols at Rachel to ensure that Rachel would not attempt to jump on the ladder for a quick escape. The last phrase that she could hear as the door was shut was from an excited female voice asking, “Are you sure that we shouldn’t just shoot them?”

Clearly this woman was some sort of sociopath who took pleasure out of violence. Between what she stated and plethora of guns and ammunition that the couple left with, it was clear that this woman was dangerous. Rachel thought back to the female captor’s partner in crime. While the man was more sympathetic, the way that he walked into a room and silently demanded attention, showed that he had a military background. When he looked at her, she could see a lifetime of war, secrets, and a hard life behind his eyes. “What trouble did she walk into?”

The doors above swung open again which caused Rachel to jump. Rachel craned her neck to look through the storm shelter doors. This time there was a mature woman in the frame. She had short white hair and a cigarette dangling out of her mouth. It was as if she was midway through a conversation and finished it by shouting over her shoulder, “Someone needs your help, Michael!”

Rachel carefully stepped further into the daylight to see if she could see any hint of what was going on outside. Beyond seeing the sunshine and a few trees, the vantage point was terrible to see anything. Rachel squinted for a better look when the woman turned her attention down to Rachel and gave a large smile. She lifted two plates of food onto a rickety roped pulley system. She expertly moved the tray down toward Rachel until the tray landed on the ground.

“Here you go, Rachel. Sorry, we can’t stay but we’ll let you out shortly.”

“How do you know my name? I have never seen you people before last night!”

“Brisco told us all about you, honey.”

At that the mature woman took matches out of her pocket and lit the cigarette that had been hanging out of her mouth since first opening the storm shelter doors. The woman took a deep inhale of smoke and exhaled slowly while studying Rachel.

“I have to say, of all the dumb and irresponsible things to do! Running around town, in the dark, following a man that you barely know to meet up with another man that you haven’t seen before. That’s not bravery, girl, that’s stupidity.”

Rachel opened her mouth to protest but before she could begin, the mature woman waved her hand as if that part of the discussion were over.

The mature woman continued to holler down at Rachel, “Now, according to the doctor and Brisco, the young man Jamie-“

“James-“

She waved her hands again with a bit more impatience. Clearly details were not important to her.

“-he should be arriving in this room based on Doc’s calculations from over the past few trips. I don’t pretend to know all of these comings and goings, why it’s suddenly accurate, or fully understand this bracelet business. However, it’s the most inconvenient time as we have been working for years towards today. So, I don’t have time to babysit you or wait for this boy of yours to arrive. But we found a solution in that, you seem to be a bit of a troublemaker and we can’t let you run freely. So, you’ll wait for him here with the door locked and this pulley system out of commission.” As she finished the sentence, the woman pulled a knife out of her pocket and cut the rope. Rachel’s heart sank as the rope fell to the ground, leaving nothing but air between Rachel and the shelter doors.

The woman continued, “It shouldn’t take long but we’re leaving you some food in case y’all get hungry. So, eat up but be sure to leave some for James because Doc said that James probably hasn’t had time or ability to eat.”

“I want to talk to Brisco,” demanded Rachel in a voice braver than she felt.

“Oh honey! This is on Brisco’s orders! Brisco wants you both to stay here until we get back because he doesn’t want to chase either of y’all around town. Like I said, Michael says that our meeting should end in plenty of time before the boy goes to his next destination.” The word was emphasized as though the woman felt the whole story was a fish tale. After looking down about the room below one last time, the mature woman took another couple puffs of cigarette before her gaze honed in on Rachel. It was as if she was sizing Rachel up for something.

“You actually look a lot like your Mama. Tell her Maddie says hello and she owes me a beer next time you see her,” and with that she left the room, leaving a dumbfounded Rachel alone.

- - - - - - - - -

Rachel was too anxious to eat. James would be arriving any moment. “Or would he? Are they just lying to keep her here? What if Brisco is actually a captive in another room and they tortured him to get all of this information about Rachel?” Rachel shook the thought out of her head. The only sound Rachel had heard was the door locking and then a wagon pulling away from the building. It was clear that she was all alone. Beyond that, she knew that Brisco was too tough to break under pressure and he was not someone to easily betray a friend. “But then does that mean that Brisco is involved? After burning Michael, how could he join him in a possible anarchist plot?”

Out of boredom or absent-minded fidgeting she had found a couple small rocks to throw up at the top of the shelter. She tried to squint and see through the cracks in the wooden doors above, but it was too far above. Rachel attempted screaming a few times but when the only reply was the sound of a distant car honk, she realized that she was alone. After shouting a few more times for help, Rachel decided that there was no reason to lose her voice. She was all alone.

Rachel found herself at the small table and chair that “Fi” had left and found herself wishing that the sociopath had forgotten a weapon or two, even a dainty single-shot derringer pistol. Rachel sighed knowing that the act of wishing would be a useless task. Based on the way that Fi meticulously cleaned and hoarded her weapons, Rachel knew that the tiny woman would not misplace a single bullet, much less a gun. In fact, she probably gave them all names and slept with them nightly. For a moment Rachel smiled finding the mental picture semi-amusing but it still did not calm her frayed nerves.

Suddenly there was a bolt of light and a loud noise in the center of the room. Rachel had to shield her eyes but her heart leapt as she could see the outline of James in the room. The light faded and James stood there, still holding the gun from Santa Barbara. Despite his good looks, he looked grim and tired.

“When’s the last time that you have eaten or slept?” Rachel asked the question before she even realized that she had found her voice.

“Couldn’t tell you,” came the exhausted reply. He looked around the room to take it all in. He did a double take look as he tried to place where he’d seen Rachel before asking, “Friend of County’s, right?”

“Of sorts. Brisco and I work in the film industry together. Although, the last few days, we’ve been looking for you. The name is Rachel,” she held out her hand to shake his but his eyes continued to survey the room and landed on the food on the table.

“They left you some food but I’m afraid that we are locked in here,” Rachel quickly explained.

James quickly grabbed the food from the tray on the floor and moved quickly to the table setting the gun by his food. In what must have been a few moments, he devoured his plate. He paused only for a moment to point at the second plate.

“All yours,” Rachel replied. Being locked in a storm shelter with anarchists running amuck and Brisco potentially part of a spy ring had managed to ruin any appetite that Rachel felt.

As he came to the last few bites, he slowed down as if to process the predicament that he was facing.

He looked around the room before waving the piece of bread in his hand and observed, “Nice place you got here.” At Rachel’s weak smile and continued, “And here is-“

“Miami…or rather outside of Miami, in some kind of storm shelter, based on the fact that I yelled for help and the only thing that I heard was a distant car horn. Since then, I haven’t heard any outside noise.”

“I assume you don’t typically lock yourselves in with men that you have been chasing? Or is this part of a larger plan from that skinny-ass frazzle hair boy?”

“Hardly,” Rachel said wryly before responding, “I actually think Brisco got mixed up with something and when I tried to investigate, I got locked down here with a headache for my troubles.”

“And our hosts are-“

“An Irish couple and an old woman, or at least I think the couple is Irish. The names I caught are Michael and Fi. There is a third woman but not really sure how she is involved. She seems more like a mother figure than a member of an Irish-anarchist-labor-party-member. And I haven’t seen or heard Brisco or Doc since waking up down here.”

“That’s twice now that I seem to have missed him,” mused James.

He seemed to register Rachel’s anxiousness and he leaned back in the chair and studied her. “I think you should start at the beginning.”

“Well, I met Mr. County-“

James held up his hand. “I don’t mean your entire relationship with Brisco. As we seem to be unwilling residents of a storm shelter, let’s skip the whole adventure and go straight to the Miami bit. We can go back to the beginning later, but I would like to know why I’m locked up and why you are locked up with me.”

Rachel began again, this time beginning with their arrival into Miami, Brisco’s late night meeting with smartly dressed Irishmen, and finishing with waking up in this room.

“Today’s adventure - locked up with a good-looking actress-”

“How did you know I was an actress?” interjected a blushing Rachel.

“With a face like that, you’re not a clown or a stunt double,” reasoned James. As Rachel avoided his eyes, James began again, “So, I am locked up with an actress by an Irish gang, possibly anarchists, in the middle of nowhere… and to top it all off, my pa’s old bounty hunter partner has gotten himself into some kind of trouble.” James sighed and smiled as he looked around the room, “Well, it’s not the oddest thing to have happened to me of late.”

“Not the oddest thing-“began Rachel before James smiled mischievously and held up his arm for her t see the bracelet. Rachel wondered how she could blush anymore as she seemed to be in a constant state of red. He must think I’m a ditz! thought Rachel as she kicked herself for allowing herself to become flustered and forgetful of the odd reality that James existed in.

“Maybe there’s more to the story,” mused James. “You know, I have heard about gangs and mobs moving into Hollywood and blackmailing people into doing their dirty work.”

Rachel pondered James’ theory but shook her head as she recalled her various interactions with Brisco. She voiced her experience by stating, “I have heard of those types of situations but haven’t seen anyone unscrupulous ever hanging around Mr. County,” However, the reality set in that she really didn’t know Brisco outside of the lot. She had to relent and agree. “But then, we usually only talked on set. Do you think that’s what happened with Mr. County?”

“It’s possible,” James said as he looked up at the doors to the outside. “My pa always said that County was the best man that he ever knew and it was a pleasure to work with him. And he didn’t give his good opinion to most folks so it’s worth looking into the idea of an honorable man being forced to do the unimaginable to protect his friends. I mean, I could see someone living that journey for 7 or so seasons before that stress can start to wear on a man,” mused James.

James seemed to snap back into the present and addressed Rachel directly, “Figure we can work on getting out of here and finding out a bit more of what is going on. Then you can tell me the rest of your adventure with Mr. County on the ride back to town. Since I have not heard a horse, wagon, or even a critter outside since we began chatting, I think your assessment about being outside of a town is right.”

With that James stood and began attempting to scale the walls towards the doors of the storm shelter. Unfortunately, no matter which wall he attempted to climb or how high he stretched, every time led to James falling after only getting up a few feet.

“Have much experience in climbing?” asked an awed Rachel.

“Just a bit,” James absently responded as he brushed off a layer of dirt from his most recent fall.

“You climb like a spider!” exclaimed Rachel.

James gave her an odd look as though unable to decide if it was a complement or not. He finally responded by saying, “A spider-man, huh? Well, that would be different.”

Rachel grimaced at the thought before looking back up at the double doors. “It seems like climbing out of here is out,” Rachel called over her shoulder.

James sighed before agreeing, “Yep, seems so.” He continued to study the walls before inquiring, “Have you inspected if there is a back way out?”

“A what?”

“If these guys are as intelligent and mysterious as you say, I can’t imagine that this is the only way in or out. They would need at least a back door built in, that way they never get caught.” James studied Rachel for a moment before taking her silence as confirmation, “You take that side of the room and I’ll take this side and we’ll see if there is anything odd about the walls.”

Rachel did as James instructed but she doubted that they would find anything. However, it was not long before James called her over to inspect something. He had moved to the darkest corner of the room and as she moved to where James stood, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. To her surprise, the closer that she looked, the more that she realized that there was an area that seemed a bit of a darker shade than the rest of the wall. As the two began to slowly brush their hands over the wall, they were able to feel the edges of a worn-out door. Within a few moments they had located a door handle.

While it was easy to turn the handle, the door would not budge as it clearly had not been used in quite a long time. James took a few steps back and then hurled his whole weight into the door. The door shuttered and the two could hear the sound of wood protesting the attack but the door did not give way. James took another couple steps back and ran at it a second time. This time the door buckled out and Rachel could hear that it was almost about to give way. This time James did not run into the door but gave it a hard kick in the middle and the door finally relented and fell to the floor with a loud crash.

As they peered through the doorway, they were met with a stale smell and darkness. It was impossible to see their hands in front of their faces much less what was truly on the other side of the door. James grabbed his gun from the table and handed it to Rachel to keep an eye out for any danger. He then pulled out a matchbox from a pocket and began to slowly inch through the door. Just on the other side of the door was a lamp. James stomped out the first match before lighting a second and using it to light the lamp.

Rachel was reluctant to move into what seemed to be a tunnel but she also did not like the idea of missing out on whatever mission Brisco was on, he was her ticket for promotion after all. So, she steadied her nerves and kept the gun at the ready by her side. After a few moments of the two slowly moving in the dark tunnel with only the dim lamp to guide them, James reached back to hold Rachel’s free hand. When she tried to protest that she wasn’t afraid, he stated that it was only to help her guide her as he had the only light, and they were traversing uneven ground. Rachel relented and quickly realized that it was the right decision as the ground was not only off kilter, but she could feel that they were walking uphill in the dark.

After fifteen minutes of slow, silent walking, they could finally start to feel a breeze. It seemed that they were coming to the end of the tunnel. Rachel could feel relief starting to rush in and as Rachel held James’ hand, it seemed like James was also starting to relax more. At the thought of finally getting to the other side, the two began to pick up the pace. Finally, they reached a door on the other side and it not only hinted at fresh air but small slits of sunlight through the cracks in the wooden door greeted their hungry eyes. To their joint relief, this door easily swung open and the couple found the sunshine both beautiful and blinding.

As their eyes adjusted, they found that they were in a small, empty cabin. The rest of the cabin lacked furnishing aside from a table, writing desk, and a pot belly stove in the corner. However, all along the far wall were a series of local maps. Each map had dates, times, and names scribbled at various circled spots. Within moments, both of them were at the wall to study it for clues. Rachel followed his gaze and found the sketch of a man with the word “Dean O’Banion” scribbled along the bottom. As she studied the face, she realized that she recognized it. Rachel excitedly exclaimed, “This is the man who met Brisco and Michael last night!”

“I’m guessing you know this man too?” inquired James.

She looked at the newspaper clipping that he was pointing to and sure enough, it was the fourth member of the table from last night. Rachel nodded slowly as she began to read the newspaper clipping, “New York Workshop Bombing, Suspect Still at Large.” Rachel’s heart sank as she continued to read the gruesome details of the event spurred on by this shady character, Snake Kinney. Before she could finish reading the article, James was out the door with one of the maps clutched in his hand. Rachel caught up to him as he studied the horizon. “It looks like we’re about two miles outside of town. How are you at talking and running?”

“With Buffalo Bill’s Wild West, I was able to shoot, ride, and recite the national anthem at the same time,” boasted Rachel. James began to run and Rachel sprinted to catch up with him.

“Talking is enough for now,” he called over his shoulder. “Because I still need to know who are you and why is Brisco following me?”

Part II - Chapter 04 - Suspicions of Cloak & Dagger

Train Ride to Miami, OK

Rachel was uncomfortable. Yes, she had been in this train compartment with Doc & Brisco for hours and, yes, she had a splitting headache. But beyond that. The moment she followed Brisco into the town corral and locked eyes with James, she felt something. And then he was gone. In that moment, she had felt a sense of loss and fear for his safety. Rachel shook the image out of her head which ended up jostling her blonde hair into her eyes. “Why can’t I be as cool, collected, and tough as Mama was in her bounty hunting days?”

Rachel thought back to the numerous stories that she had listened to from her mother over the years. Crystal Hawkes was a skilled bounty hunter who always got what she set out for and had made a name for herself in a male driven environment. She was one of the greats and made quite a substantial sum of money throughout her career. But when Crystal noticed that the frontier was getting smaller and people like Buffalo Bill Cody and others were making more money entertaining crowds with significantly less danger, Crystal saw a better world to raise her child. So, Crystal transitioned out of bounty hunting and instead worked in vaudeville for a time, impressing crowds with her ability to make seemingly impossible shots. Rachel followed in her mother’s stead and worked Wild West Shows for a time before their tour landed in Los Angeles. When it was time for the wild west show to move on, Rachel stayed. The glamor of the silver screen called to Rachel and Buffalo Bill was able to get Rachel the right auditions. She was on a track to make a name for herself in silent pictures.

Crystal was not pleased with Rachel’s decision but elected to not stand in Rachel’s way. About the last thing that Crystal said on the matter was that being the damsel in distress would grow wearisome. After years of hitting the trail and seeing men brought to justice by her mother and then spending years on the road with a wild west show, being a trophy or delicate flower would quickly become boring.

Much to Rachel’s frustration, her mother was right. In fact, Rachel was just about to throw in the towel, when Brisco got himself into… Well, whatever you might call this adventure. Rachel was supposed to bring Brisco back but the idea of adventure and being back on the road appealed to Rachel so much more than the idea of getting back to Hollywood. Somehow, this felt more like a version of the familiar. Home was too strong of a word. But, like a hometown you drive through. You no longer belonged but there is a feeling of being among old friends and being welcome to stay as long as you needed. But still, there was a small voice in the back of her head that pointed out that this adventure was taking too long. If they stayed on the road too much longer, both Brisco and Rachel would be out of a job.

And then there was James. She was not expecting him to be so handsome, much less her age. The way that Brisco kept referring to him, it sounded like he was a child who got lost from home. But James was far from a child. Rachel felt her face begin to blush and she shook her head again in an effort to refocus her mind.

Rachel looked across the compartment to Brisco and took the opportunity to study him as he watched the passing scenery outside the window lost in thought. He looked weather worn and like he had seen his share of battles, but it seemed like he was renewing his strength on this trek. He was no longer the lot drunk but a man of adventure with a lust for life. It suddenly struck Rachel that the loss of the frontier must have been a blow to Brisco as much as it was to Crystal. No more earth to discover. No more lawless towns in desperate need of vigilante justice. Out here, he was free. Young at heart. Out here, Brisco seemed in his natural element and he looked every much as dashing as newspaper clippings she had seen from before the turn of the century. He seemed like a man in his 20’s and filled with purpose on this adventure.

Rachel turned her attention to Doc and rolled her eyes in annoyance. While Rachel and Brisco seemed to enjoy the silence, Doc needed to fill it. In a matter of minutes, he would go from chewing his pencil to anxiously moving papers around in his bag to grunting as he scribbled notes. However, Rachel preferred his restless behavior compared to the slew of questions.

“So, we’re headed to Miami-“ began Doc.

“Except, it’s pronounced My-am-ah” corrected Brisco. “Miami Oklahoma. It shouldn’t take us too long by train.”

“And you have friends there?” inquired Rachel.

“A few friends out there. Years ago, when Bowler and I were working for the president, we were assigned to keep an eye out along the Mexican American border. While collecting bounties on various criminal elements, we also needed to ensure that cowboys weren’t causing international incidents or wars by stealing cattle from Mexican ranchers. Anyway, we were in Washington DC to meet with the president and ran into Michael Weston. Weston was originally assigned to Boston to keep an eye on a growing underground Irish movement. Various Irish labor party members had been coming to the States to stir up trouble with local labor movements.”

“You got in the way of labor movements?” asked Doc indignantly.

“No, I was in charge of missions along the border. Additionally, Mike wasn’t fighting against workers’ rights but the anarchists who took advantage of the anger ensued by overworked unionists and labor parties.”

Rachel laughed before saying, “I somehow can’t imagine you rubbing shoulders with spies in Washington. Haven’t you always said that spies are-”

“Bitchy little girls!”

A thought struck Rachel, “The Michael West?” asked Rachel. This story sounded familiar.

“Yes. Michael West.”

“Why is that significant?” inquired Doc.

They could hear the train whistle from far away and Brisco stood and looked out across the horizon towards the sound. “You see,” began Brisco, “Michael had a burn notice put out on him and he was blacklisted from continuing services for the country.”

Rachel suddenly remembered how she knew this story, “Weren’t you the person who turned him in?”

- - - - - - - - -

After several minutes of silence in the train compartment, Rachel could no longer hold in her questions.

You turned him in? Why? What did he do? More than that, how could you call him a friend? Won’t he be pissed and refuse to help us? Aren’t we in danger for being with you? How the hell is this plan going to work?”

Brisco held up his hand just as a waiter opened the compartment door and came in with a rolling coffee table. “I believe you ordered coffee,” the waiter chirped while opening a latch against the compartment to extend a table out from the wall. He then placed three saucers onto the table before returning to the cart to get cups, coffee urn, milk, and sugar for the small table. Brisco slid the man a tip before shutting the door.

Brisco seemed lost in thought as he stared down into his coffee cup before filling his cup with coffee. He immediately slurped down his coffee before looking at an incredulous Rachel and offended Doc.

“What? Did you want coffee?” asked Brisco.

Doc helped himself to the coffee before opening up a small book and making notes in it. He seemed to be documenting everything; the time, the clouds outside, his pulse, the speed of the train, and who knows what else.

Rachel sat patiently with an arched eyebrow.

“Listen, I can’t explain everything but this is what I can say. Michael was in Miami on a mission when he was burned. When you’re burned you have nothing. No cash, no job history, no references to help you get a stable job. So, Michael has been doing whatever work comes his way and making ends meet with whatever work he can find. I hear that he occasionally gets paid in yogurt.”

“And-“continued Rachel.

“And that’s it for now.”

At that, Brisco finished his coffee before leaning back in his seat, tipping his hat over his eyes and at least pretending to sleep. Rachel leaned back as well. It was clear that they were walking into trouble and Brisco was not willing to share all of the details of what they were walking into. She looked down at her hands to try to cool down her frustration. She eyed the coffee but realized that she did not need any coffee to stay alert; caution and warning were already filling her every sense. This was not going to be a safe harbor after all and if Brisco wasn’t talking, then Rachel needed to keep her guard up.

- - - - - - - - -

The train pulled into the Miami station around sunset. Disembarking the train as the shadows grew longer did nothing to put Rachel at ease. She held her guns close, ready to fire at the slightest sign of danger. Brisco seemed to be in no mood to hurry as they walked across town to the only hotel. A veiled woman passed by in the darkness, it was impossible to make out any distinguishing characteristic aside from the fact that the passerby was an extremely thin and small woman wearing a dress and veil. Brisco clumsily sidestepped into the veiled figure’s pathway before apologizing and tipping his hat. “It must be the moonlight,” he laughed before continuing back towards the hotel. The rest of the walk seemed to be completed with Doc peppering Brisco with silly questions and Brisco keeping responses curt and short.

Once the trio reached the hotel, Brisco requested three separate rooms. As soon as the key was in Doc’s hand, he pushed past them and almost ran to his room. Doc seemed to be the most anti-social and timid person that she had evet met. The odd almost basic questions around the world floored Rachel and his overly secretive nature made her suspicious. Rachel was relieved to see that her door was next to Brisco’s. It was clear that Brisco was up to something and she needed to stick close to find out what. As soon as she closed the door, she grabbed a glass sitting near the wash basin and mirror before turning out the lantern. She felt her way across the dark room, put the glass between her ear and the wall to listen into Brisco’s room.

She heard Brisco set his things down and do some initial rustling. She could hear him wash his face and hands in the basin before the bedsprings squeaked. She heard two soft thuds, meaning Brisco had taken his shoes off and then she heard more bedsprings squeak. Then the other room was silent. She had no idea if he was lying in bed reading, sleeping, or what. She stood there listening to the other room for ten minutes. Or was it five? She could not tell but the time seemed to drag with boredom. She leaned away from the wall and put the glass down. Rachel sighed as she realized that there would be no excitement tonight after all. Just as she was deciding to turn on the light to undress for the night, she heard the hesitant sound of bedsprings from Brisco’s room. Rachel froze as the sound of soft footsteps approached the wall. Even though she knew there was a wall preventing Brisco catching her spying on him, she held her breathe and closed her eyes as though to make herself as silent, small, and invisible.

It seemed to have worked because she then heard the footsteps move away, this time faster, while still being quiet. She heard the bedsprings squeak before firmer footsteps moved towards the door. Clearly, Brisco had put back on his shoes and was on his way outside. She heard the door open before she saw a shadow slowly pause in front of her door. They hesitated for a moment as though to confirm if her light was on or off. Then the shadow disappeared.

Rachel quickly moved towards the door, relieved that she had not undressed or removed her guns. She opened the door as quietly as possible before slowly peaking her head outside and found that Brisco had already left the hallway. Rachel quietly closed the door before pausing by Doc’s room but breathed a sigh of relief as she heard his raspy snore. She hurried down the hallway and peered around the corner to watch Brisco pass by the guest services desk and out the front door. She silently rushed after him and into the night.

Brisco was moving fast now as he headed across the street into a saloon. Rachel followed but rather than going inside, she moved around to the side of the bar where a dirty window allowed her to look inside. She saw Brisco sit down at a table across from an impeccably dressed man with blue eyes and short brown hair. The man looked grim, almost unhappy to see Brisco, as he poured a shot of whiskey for himself and for Brisco. The two looked deep in conversation but abruptly stopped when two more men joined the table. These men were wearing bowlers, though not as nice looking or as well tailored as the original man at the table. The two newcomers seemed more talkative as they helped themselves to the whiskey. One of them seemed to direct the conversation and to be in a much more jovial mood than the rest of the members at the table. Rachel wished that she could get closer to hear what they were discussing but seeing as how there were not any women in the saloon, she would merely draw attention if she had entered and right now that was the last thing that she wanted. The four men seemed to conclude their business and stood to leave. The original tailored man tossed money on the table before tipping his hat towards the bartender. For a moment, Rachel thought he might have seen her standing outside the window so she ducked. When her heart was no longer racing, she peeked back up through the window. The men were no longer in the bar area. ”Had she been seen? Were they looking for her? Was she in danger?”

She strained looking through the glass and checked from side to side before finally spotting them. They were headed towards the back door of the saloon. They seemed to be in no hurry so Rachel assumed that she had not been seen. She would have an added advantage if they were moving towards the door; maybe she could finally maybe hear what all of this was about. She moved quickly towards the back of the building and peered cautiously around the corner to just barely make out what the men were saying.

“It’s lucky for us you stopped over in town, Mr. Finley,” a thick Irish accent stated.

“Even luckier that Michael recommended you. We don’t take kindly to strangers,” said a second voice, much deeper than the first.

“Well, I owe Michael a great debt,” stated Brisco. “And I don’t like to leave myself indebted to anyone.”

“Just don’t forget. It has to be tomorrow or all of our plans will fail.”

With that, Rachel watched as the two Irishmen turned and walked into the darkness. They had barely moved out of sight before Irish drinking songs began to be belted out. It was almost as though they were working to appear like two drunk Irishmen out to drink instead of men talking a bit of treason. Rachel took a deep breath. “What was that about? What plans had Brisco agreed to?” Processing the presence of Irish men and recalling Brisco’s story about Michael, a terrible thought began to form. “What if Brisco agreed to work with the Irish Labor Movement as penance for turning in Michael?”

Brisco and Michael were still talking but they had taken their voices down considerably. Rachel could not catch a single word that was being said. She was about to turn back to the hotel when a movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Rachel took a step towards the movement with the intent to investigate but instead she felt the presence of someone coming up behind her. Before Rachel could turnaround, she felt a sharp pain at the back of her head, and then complete darkness.