Independence Day

by Bob Mayer

  “What?” Scout asked.

  “I doubt I’m going into that unit,” Eagle said. He explained to Scout. “The Israeli equivalent of our Navy SEALs.” But he was thinking about it. “If I am though, with an Uzi, then time-wise, we’re talking from—” he paused, then had to do the unthinkable, and turn to Roland for information. “When was the Uzi fielded?”

  “Nineteen fifty-four,” Roland said. “I did an op with Shayetet. Can’t talk about it, of course. Tough dudes. They haven’t packed the Uzi in a long time. I’m not fond of it personally. Even back then, there were better subs and—”

  Before he could give a dissertation on the history of the submachine gun, Dane came in, with Sin Fen and Edith closing the door behind them.

  Sin Fen took a seat, along with Edith.

  Dane went to the blackboard and turned to face to the team. “The Fourth of July.”

  “Whoa,” Roland said. “I get Doc and Moms, but why the Civil War?”

  Eagle opened his mouth to answer, but Dane cut him off. “Let me do the briefing, please.”

  Eagle nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Not only the Civil War,” Dane said, “but the same year. Both Doc and Roland are going to 1863, but in different places.”

  Dane wrote out the first mission.

  4 July 1863. Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

  “The battle was already over,” Eagle said, frustrated by not being able to get in his knowledge a minute ago. “Nothing happened on the Fourth.”

  “Exactly,” Dane said. “Both sides were dug in, staring at each other across the Valley of Death. Union on Cemetery Ridge, and the Confederates on Seminary Ridge. Meade, the Union commander was later castigated by Lincoln for not counter-attacking on the Fourth.”

  “That would have been a reversal of Pickett’s charge,” Eagle said. “Lee was in as strong a defensive position as the Union had been the day before. Lee was probably praying for Meade to attack.”

  “That’s the issue,” Dane faced Roland. “Your mission is to make sure Meade doesn’t launch an attack on the Fourth of July.”

  Roland’s forehead scrunched as he thought. “Meade didn’t counterattack. So why would he?”

  “The Shadow,” Dane said. “We received good intelligence from our agent in that era. Seems the Shadow has someone who will try to talk Meade into doing what he didn’t do.”

  “Someone from the Shadow?” Roland asked.

  “No,” Dane said. He nodded at Edith, giving her permission for an info dump.

  “General Lewis Armistead,” Edith said. “A Confederate.” Before anyone could ask the obvious question, Edith hurried to explain. “In history, Armistead led a brigade in Pickett’s Division. During the charge on the Third, his unit made it the farthest, actually breaching the Union line at the stone wall at what’s called the Angle. It’s been called the ‘High Water Mark of the Confederacy’.”

  “Tide turned pretty quick,” Moms said.

  “Indeed, on that day, but the war took another two years,” Edith said. “Armistead was wounded. Most of his men who made it that far were quickly captured.”

  “Didn’t a West Point classmate of his command the Union forces right there? Hancock?” Moms asked.

  “Hancock was the corps commander in the center of the Union lines and they were friends,” Edith said. “But Armistead wasn’t a graduate of West Point. He attended the Academy, but was expelled, supposedly for breaking a plate over the head of another cadet. Ironically, that head belonged to Jubal Early, who ended up being another of Lee’s generals.”

  “I wonder if Benny Haven had anything to do with that event,” Ivar mused.

  “Not relevant to this mission,” Dane said. “Armistead was there. Hancock was there.”

  “Armistead’s wounds weren’t considered fatal,” Edith said. “However, in history, he died two days later in a Union field hospital. A myth arose that Armistead met Hancock at the end of the charge, just before he, too, was wounded, but the reality is the two never met at Gettysburg. Hancock had been wounded just minutes earlier, so while word was sent to Hancock about his friend, Hancock didn’t get a chance to see Armistead before he died.”

  “So how could Armistead get the Union to attack?” Roland wanted to know. “He’s in a hospital. And he’s fighting for the other side.”

  Dane answered. “The report from the agent indicates that Armistead is wounded, not seriously. In the middle of the morning of the Fourth, while being interrogated by Meade south of the Angle, tells him something that will convince Meade to go against all his surviving corps commanders’ advice, and attack Seminary Ridge on the afternoon of the Fourth.”

  “Tells him what?” Roland asked.

  “No idea,” Dane said. “There could be any number of things Armistead could say that might entice Meade to attack.”

  “Why would Armistead do that?” Moms asked. “And why would Meade believe him?”

  “Because Armistead’s brigade had just been decimated,” Dane said, “and maybe he felt the war needed to be over. Because he was Hancock’s friend. Perhaps a Valkyrie appeared to him in a vision, telling him to. I don’t know why he would do it. All we have is that Armistead talks Meade into doing what he didn’t do in history. But it’s a lot more than we usually have.”

  “So what do I have to do?” Roland asked. He tapped the rifle. “I assume it’s not talk.”

  “Kill Armistead,” Dane said. “He’s supposed to die in the next couple of days anyway.”

  Roland nodded. “All right.” As if he’d just been asked to take out the trash. No biggie.

  “Hold on,” Eagle said. “That’s pretty specific. More than we’ve gotten before. Are we sure it’s accurate?”

  “Of course not,” Dane said. “That’s why Roland is going. And why he’s going to be prepared for anything.”

  “I know it’s not necessary for me to say this,” Moms said, “but be careful, Roland. Scout was betrayed by the Delphic Oracle, who was our agent.”

  Roland nodded. “Will do.”

  “’Trust no one’,” Eagle said in a strange accent. At Roland’s raised eyebrows, he explained. “From I, Claudius. It’s what Herod tells Claudius.”

  “Right,” Roland said, clearly with no clue what Eagle was talking about. Which was the norm.

  “Moving on,” Dane said. “Same year. In the Western Theater of Operations.”

  4 July 1863. Vicksburg, Mississippi

  “You might be going to meet your friend Ulysses,” Dane said. “He’s been besieging Vicksburg for months. The Confederates finally surrender on the Fourth.”

  “All right,” Ivar said. “They just surrender? No final assault?”

  “They just surrender,” Edith said. “General Pemberton, the Southern Commander, picked the Fourth because he thought it would make Grant more generous in his terms. And he was right. Grant paroled all the Confederate troops. Perhaps the Shadow is going to try to change the terms of the surrender. Grant was known as Unconditional Surrender Grant to that point.”

  “What would an unconditional surrender at Vicksburg entail?” Ivar asked.

  “Hold on,” Dane said. “Let’s not speculate. We don’t know what your mission is, other than that the Shadow is producing a bubble at Vicksburg on that day and the bubble is inside the Confederate lines in the city. Which is where you’re going. Maybe the Shadow convinces Pemberton to try to break out of the city on the Fourth. Who knows?”

  “So I probably won’t be meeting Grant,” Ivar said.

  Dane shrugged. “Grant and Pemberton meet to sign the official surrender on the Fourth, so there’s a chance. Maybe something happens at that ceremony.” He didn’t wait for an answer as he wrote the next mission on the board.

  4 July 362 B.C. Mantinea, Greece

  Dane indicated for Edith to give the overview.

  “On that date, at that place,” Edith said, “there was a battle between various Greek city-states to determine who would rule overall. On one side was Th
ebes, led by Epaminondas, and on the other, the Spartans, led by Agesilaus the Second.”

  “Right,” Scout said. “Who wins?”

  “Neither, in the long run,” Edith said. “The Thebes alliance wins the battle, defeating Sparta and its allies, but Epaminondas is killed and he hasn’t designated a successor and has no heirs. This leaves the winners without a ruler. Before he dies, Epaminondas tells his followers to make peace.

  “Sparta’s defeat pushes its power further into a decline. Ultimately, the Battle of Mantinea is significant because it weakened all the Greek city-states, allowing Philip II of Macedon to subsequently conquer much of Greece. Interestingly, Philip had been a hostage of Thebes for many years and was educated by Epaminondas.”

  “And Philip II is the father of Alexander the Great,” Scout said. “So I’ll be meeting Pandora again.” She looked at Sin Fen. “Am I ready?”

  “You’ve done well enough so far,” Sin Fen said.

  “What’s the Shadow trying to do?” Scout asked.

  “We don’t know,” Dane said. “If Epaminondas isn’t killed, then the outcome of the battle might lead to a unified, powerful Greece. Such a force might stop Philip from building his empire, which means Alexander’s reign would end up being much different. The same if the Spartans somehow win.”

  “Definitely meeting Pandora,” Scout surmised. “But if she doesn’t work for the Shadow, as Sin Fen and I discussed,” she added, for the benefit of the others, “then maybe the Shadow just wants the biggest bang for the buck. Pre-empt Alexander the Great before he can even get started, by stymieing his father with a unified Greece.”

  “Possible,” Dane said. “You’ll figure it out.”

  “Did Mac?” Scout snapped, bothered by Dane’s tone.

  “You know he did,” Dane said. “He accomplished his mission.”

  Eagle spoke up as team sergeant. “Did we ever find out what went wrong there?” he asked. “Did your people look into the history?”

  The focus of every member of the Time Patrol zeroed in on Dane. “As near as we can determine, the Resistance cell that Mac linked up with was wiped out on D-Day. They did blow the bridge, which was their target. Since there were no survivors, we don’t know what happened after that. The Germans didn’t keep very good records of Resistance members they killed in the field. Their policy was execution, not capture. We have no idea what happened to Mac. He might have been killed while destroying the bridge.”

  “He was too good with demo to do that,” Roland said.

  “He died,” Moms said, before the team could speculate too much further. “In the line of duty.”

  The sound of chalk cut into the silence that followed.

  4 July 1826, Monticello, Virginia

  “Moms,” Dane said.

  “His death,” Moms said. “Why?”

  “Whose?” Roland asked. “Who died?”

  “Thomas Jefferson,” Moms said. “Fifty years to the day after the first Fourth of July.”

  Edith added in another fact. “Coincidentally, and it’s a pretty amazing coincidence, John Adams died on the exact same day. The myth is that his last words were: ‘Thomas Jefferson survives’.”

  “They died on the same day?” Scout asked. “After fifty years?”

  Edith nodded. “Adams was in Massachusetts, and Jefferson at Monticello. They’d been estranged while politicians, often feuding, but later in life they corresponded quite often and grew close. But there’s no way each knew the other was fading on the same day.”

  “Weird,” Roland said.

  “What if—” Eagle began, but stopped.

  “What?” Sin Fen asked.

  “What if it wasn’t a coincidence?” Eagle said. “What if there’s a reason two former Presidents, two of the men who helped found this country, died on the same day? Fifty years exactly after the day which is officially known as the date it was founded. We’re dealing with specific days here on our missions. Maybe the Shadow, or someone else, has been dicking with our timeline for a long time? Maybe Jefferson and Adams were killed?”

  “Adams was ninety, and Jefferson was eighty-three,” Edith said. “Given the life-expectancy at the time, they were very old men. There’s no evidence of foul play in the historical records.”

  “They wanted to live until then,” Scout said. “They held on.”

  Edith nodded. “In Jefferson’s case, his last words were: ‘Is it the Fourth?”

  “Why am I going to be there?” Moms asked. “Can the Shadow keep him alive? Would it? And why?”

  “We don’t know,” Dane said.

  “It might not have anything to do with Jefferson,” Edith said. “It might be something in Monticello. It might be someone else there who is important. Surprisingly, given how important Jefferson is to our country, there isn’t much data on his last day.”

  “Nor,” Dane said, always moving forward, “is there much on the keynote date.”

  4 July 1776, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

  “Well, that leaves me,” Doc said, “since Eagle’s dressed for a different party. No clue what the problem is?”

  “None,” Dane said. “The data just says there is the potential for a major Ripple, maybe an outright Cascade from that day.”

  “Independence,” Edith said, “was actually declared on the Second. But the final draft of the Declaration wasn’t finalized until the Fourth.”

  “So the Shadow could be messing with the Declaration of Independence,” Doc surmised.

  “Could be,” Dane said. “Or the delegates. Several future Presidents were there. Many of those who drafted the Constitution, the basis for our country, were also there.”

  “Remember,” Edith said, “that the Declaration of Independence inspired people in many countries. The French Revolution took some of its seeds from it.”

  “I don’t think I’ll fit in,” Doc noted, indicating his brown skin.

  “They’re sending you instead of me,” Eagle said. “Don’t get picky.”

  “But—” Doc began.

  Edith tried to soothe his worries. “America was a melting pot back then too. Lots of traffic between Europe and the Colonies and the Islands.”

  “Not many people from Pakistan or India, I would say,” Doc pointed out.

  “No, but there are other places you could say you are from,” Edith said. “We’ll give you cover for the mission in your download.”

  “Great,” Doc muttered.

  “And the last mission.” Dane wrote:

  4 July 1976. Entebbe, Uganda

  “I don’t get the outfit,” Eagle said. “They air-landed for that op to rescue the hostages from the Air France hijacking. Put a Mercedes in the back of a C-130 and rolled right up on the Ugandan guards and hijackers. So I don’t get why I’m carrying an Uzi. Would seem I would be on the ground with the Ugandans.”

  “You’re not,” Dane said. “You’re talking about the written and unclassified history of Operation Thunderbolt. We all know that covert operations and units have an extensive history that isn’t recorded anywhere.”

  Moms spoke up. “The Israelis have a strict policy regarding covert operations. Never admit to failure. Never allow failure to be made public. Only publicize successes. It’s contributed to their fearsome reputation. The reality is somewhat different.”

  “Exactly,” Dane said. “Movies have even been made about Operation Thunderbolt. Books published.”

  “Like the SEALs nowadays,” Roland muttered, as Dane was hitting on a sore topic. “What part of covert ops don’t they get?”

  Moms signaled for Dane to ignore the comment and move on.

  “Operation Thunderbolt made headlines all over the world when it occurred,” Dane said. “The Israelis wanted to publicize it to send a message to terrorists. What you’re going to be involved in didn’t make the headlines. Wasn’t written about. Besides not publicizing failures, the Israelis are also very big on redundancy in missions.

  “When they began drawing up pl
ans to rescue the hostages from the Air France flight, they came up with several options. The first choice was to airdrop commandos from Shayetet 13 into Lake Victoria. Entebbe Airport lies on a peninsula of land sticking out into the lake. The commandoes would swim in, infiltrate the airport, then kill the terrorists.”

  “Exfiltration?” Eagle asked, a question near and dear to every special operator’s heart. Planning was always precise for getting them in; often it was hazy for getting them out.

  “That was the problem,” Dane said. “The Israelis weren’t sure if the Ugandans were helping the Palestinian terrorists or not. This plan counted on them not helping. It was hoped, once the terrorists were dead, the Ugandans would allow the commandos and the hostages to board the airliner and fly out.”

  Roland’s snort of derision indicated what he thought of that plan. “Like that’s going to happen.”

  Dane nodded. “Yeah. That’s what they finally figured, too.”

  “Remember,” Eagle said, “that Idi Amin was in power in Uganda. Africa’s ‘Hitler’. Even if he said he’d let them go, they couldn’t trust him, because he was certifiably crazy.”

  “Correct,” Dane said. “So they decided to go with the plan as we know it.”

  Eagle indicated the wet suit. “Redundancy?”

  “Yes,” Dane said. “What history didn’t record is that the Israelis still went ahead with airdropping a twelve-man team into the lake prior to the land assault. If Shayetet 13 could take out the terrorists, fine. If they couldn’t, at the very least, the Israelis would have eyes on the ground, reporting back to the inbound planes. Also, if the runway lights were shut off, the commandos could emplace lights.”

  “So, what happened?” Eagle asked.

  Dane and Edith exchanged a look.

  “That bad?” Eagle said.

  Edith spoke up. “We’ve tried to get the classified report from the Israelis. They say no such mission ever happened, and thus, there is no report. There’s a good chance the second part of that is true. Hannah called in several favors and still couldn’t get any information from the Israelis. They have a tendency to put their country first, the rest of the world, and even our timeline, second.”