Gunny’s eyes grew very wide. “Are you saying there’s going to be a World War Two?” he asked in shock.
I nodded.
Gunny looked down and shook his head sadly. “And they said it was the war to end all wars.”
“They were wrong,” I said.
“When did it happen?” asked Spader. “Who was fighting?”
I suddenly wished I hadn’t slept through Mr. Varady’s world history class.
“I don’t know all the facts,” I said. “There was this Hitler dude from Germany who tried to take over Europe. And Japan tried to take over Asia.”
“That’stwowars,” Spader said.
“I think that’s why they call it aworldwar,” I shot back. “They fought against Russia and the United States and England and China and France and oh, manThis is huge! Millions of people died. Millions. It changed the world!”
Spader said, “So maybe we should go over to Germany and talk to this Hitler fella.”
I laughed at that. “You don’t get it,” I said. “We can’t just go over to Berlin, knock on Adolf Hitler’s door and say, ‘Excuse me, Mr. Hitler, you don’t know us, but we’d really like you to reconsider this Holocaust thing. Okey dokey?’” ”Why not?” asked Spader innocently.
“Trust me. We’re talking about leaders of huge nations ruling millions of people. This is so far out of our league, it’s not even funny.”
“So when does it all happen?” he asked.
I had to stand up and pace, hoping it would rattle loose some factoids I might have picked up somewhere.
“I don’t know the dates. But it wasn’t all of a sudden. There was a buildup. The wheels were definitely turning by 1937 but I don’t think it got to be a full-blown war until almost 1940. Guys, this soundsexactlylike something Saint Dane would stick his nose into, and we arewayover our heads.”
Gunny had been listening quietly. It must have been tough for him to hear that the world was about to be turned upside down again. Finally he said, “Don’t be so sure about that.”
“Are you crazy?” I shouted back at him.
“Think about it,” Gunny argued innocently. “We know the war is coming, and we know Saint Dane is here to cause trouble. It all sort of fits. Our job might be to stop this war from happening.”
“That’s impossible!” I shouted. “There’s no way the three of us could stop something so big.”
“Maybe,” Gunny said thoughtfully. “Or maybe we’re thinking about it the wrong way.”
“Gunny,” I said patiently. “It’s aworld war. Airplanes. Guns. Bombs. Soldiers. Millions of soldiers. We’re two kids with big underwear and a tall guy in a fancy suit. I don’t mean to sound negative, but I’m thinking Saint Dane may have picked a winner here.”
Gunny nodded thoughtfully. “I hear you. There’s no way in heaven we could stop something like that once it got going. But the thing is, what if it’s only a little thing that gets it going in the first place?”
“Explain that, please, mate,” said Spader.
“I’m saying that you never know what leads to what. There might be a little old something that happens that seems like nothing at first, but it might lead to something else, and that leads to something else, and so on and so on until you find yourself in the middle of a big old war.”
“But-“
“Don’tbeso quick, shorty,” Gunny interrupted. “Think about it first.”
“Okay,” I said, forcing myself to stop hyperventilating. “You’re thinking there might be something small about to happen, that’s going to start a chain reaction that will lead to World War Two…and we have a shot at stopping it?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
“You’re dreaming!” I shouted.
“I might be, at that,” Gunny said. “But I know we’re here for a reason. I also know that Saint Dane is here, somewhere. From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t show up just to sightsee.”
“He’s right, mate,” exclaimed Spader. “What if Saint Dane is here to make sure something happens that leads to the big war? Or what if he’s trying to make the war into something bigger than it was going to be already? Hobey, if we find out what it is, we could make sure it doesn’t happen.”
I wanted to believe it was possible. I really did. But it just seemed too incredible. The idea that we could do something to stop the worst war in history was a total fantasy.
“If you’re right,” I said, “and I’m not saying you are, then it would have to have something to do with the gangsters Saint Dane sent to the flume to kill Uncle Press.”
“Now you’re thinking!” Gunny exclaimed. “If we find a connection between those thugs and what’s brewing overseas, I’m guessing it’ll lead us straight to Saint Dane.”
The three of us looked at each other. Was that it? Was our mission to figure out how Saint Dane was using some gangsters in New York to cause World War II?
“It sounds crazy,” I said. “But one thing is for sure: Whatever Saint Dane is doing here, it’s definitely got something to do with these mob guys. I don’t know if it will have anything to do with the war, but it’s where we gotta start.”
“Right,” Spader said. “With the gangster-wogglies.”
Gunny stood up and straightened his suit. “That’s where I come in. I’ve got friends in a lot of places; not all of them are good. I can ask some questions to get us started.”
I had no idea where any of this would lead, but I felt confident that we were starting in the right place. Where it would take us was anybody’s guess.
“Get some rest,” Gunny said. “I’ll come get you in the morning when it’s time for work. Be ready early.”
Gunny took the cart and wheeled it toward the door. “Oh, one more thing. Before work, we’ll stop by the barbershop in the lobby. We can’t have you two working here looking like ladies.”
I hated to admit it, but Gunny was right. My hair was getting long and shaggy. Spader’s black hair was almost to his shoulders. These were definitelynot1937 cuts.
“What’s a barbershop?” Spader asked.
“G’night, gentlemen,” Gunny said. “Sleep tight.” He opened the door, then turned back to us and said, “How’s this?” He rapped twice on the door, then once, then three times.
“The perfect secret knock,” I said.
“I always wanted to be a G-man,” Gunny said with a smile. He closed the door and we were alone.
“What’s a G-man?” Spader asked again. ”It’s not important,” I answered.
“Then tell me about this World War Two. Is it really the natty-do you’re saying?”
“Worse,” I answered solemnly. “I don’t know the words to describe how bad it was. If there’s a chance we could stop it, it would be beyond incredible.”
Spader stood up and smiled. “Right then! I have a sudden urge to pee. Not that I’m nervous mind you. I’m just… scared to death.” He went for the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The ideas we were throwing around were too huge to comprehend. Was it possible that we might find the trigger here in New York that would start a chain reaction to prevent World War Two? A horror like that war was right up Saint Dane’s alley. Of course, that meant Saint Dane would be doing his best to make sure we wouldn’t find that trigger. That would be the challenge. Same old, same old.
Then three knocks came at the door.
I got up to let Gunny back in, figuring he had forgotten to tell us something. I hoped it was about breakfast. I was stuffed, but the thought of bacon and eggs was a sweet one.
“I can’t believe you forgot the secret knock already,” I called out as I headed for the door. “You’d make a lousy G-man.”
I opened the door and instantly got shoved back into the room. I fell down on my butt, hard. At first I didn’t get why Gunny would have done that. When I got my wits back and looked up, I had my answer.
It wasn’t Gunny.
Standing over me were the two gangsters from the subway station. The nasty one had a bla
ck revolver pointed right at my nose.
“Ain’t no G-man around to help you now,” he snarled.
FIRST EARTH
Iwas on my butt, looking up at two guys who only a few hours before had tried to kill me. They didn’t even bother covering their faces with handkerchiefs this time. They were a couple of gnarly-looking dudes too. The nasty one was, well, nasty looking. He had a pudgy face and dark, wild eyes. He was one of those guys who had to shave every hour or he’d have a Fred Flintstone thing going on.
The other guy, the tense one, looked a little less tense than before. I’m sure that was because he didn’t have an audience now. He had thin features and a sharp, beaklike nose. He still didn’t look all too happy about what was going on though. I glanced into his eyes and thought I caught a hint of sympathy. But not enough to call off his bulldog partner. The nasty guy held his pistol on me. It was an old-style revolver with a long barrel. It wasn’t high-tech, but I’m sure it could get the job done.
“How did you find us?” I asked while crawling backward.
“We got eyes everywhere,” said the nasty one, with a touch of cockiness. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
“Why are you after us?” I asked. ”I got nothing against you,” Nasty said. “But my associate is another story.”
His associate. Who was that? Saint Dane? I wanted to keep these guys talking. Maybe I could use my Traveler hypnosis on him. But that would be tough, seeing as I was too scared to think straight, let alone concentrate enough to use mind powers I wasn’t even sure I knew how to use in the first place.
“You have the wrong guy,” I said with desperation, though I knew he probably had the exact right guy.
The gangster bent down and stuck the muzzle of the gun in my face. “Winn Farrow don’t make mistakes like that.”
Winn Farrow. Who was Winn Farrow?
More important, why did he want us killed? It was then that I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. It was Spader. He was behind the gangsters. I tried not to look at him because that would give him away.
“I… I don’t know any Winn Farrow,” I said.
Spader cautiously moved behind one of the sofas that was standing on end.
“I’m not here to argue with you, sonny boy, I’m here to tell you how it’s gonna be. Don’t go sticking your nose where it don’t belong,” he said. “If somebody gets in Winn Farrow’s way, he won’t be there for long, if you catch my drift.”
The sofa behind the gangsters started to move. Spader was going to topple it over on them. I had to use every ounce of willpower to keep the gangsters’ eyes on me.
“Okay, I hear you. Can I ask you a question though?”
“What?”
“Can I have my ring back?”
The question caught the gangsters off guard. They both looked at me as if I were nuts. Here they were putting on this big strong-arm intimidation show, and all I cared about was my ring. It confused them. Good. It was the perfect time for Spader to make his move. But it didn’t exactly work out that way.
Instead, the nasty gangster got this evil gleam in his eye and said, “The hell with orders. I’m gonna end this right here.”
Uh-oh. He pulled the hammer back on his revolver. I willed Spader to hurry.
He did.
With a giant shove, the sofa came toppling over. The big couch first nailed the nervous guy, then continued down to take out Mr. Nasty. The gangsters didn’t know what hit them. I had barely enough time to roll out of the way before the two thugs hit the floor in a pile of gangster and sofa. I sprang to my feet and dove over the pile toward Spader.
“What took you so long?” I shouted at him.
“It was heavy!”
“C’mon!” I bolted out of the room with Spader right behind me. Those gangsters were going to be back on their feet in seconds, and I didn’t want to be anywhere close when that happened. We ran down the hall, turned right, and blasted for the elevators. I hit the button and looked to see that the needle pointed to “1.” Bad news. I looked over the second elevator. That needle pointed to “30.” Worse news. We were on 6. Not even close.
“C’mon, c’mon!” I coaxed the elevators while furiously hitting the button…not that it would do any good.
“Who’s Winn Farrow?” Spader asked. “Is it Saint Dane?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” I answered breathlessly. “But those guys were only supposed to give us a warning and they decided to kill us.”
“You can’t trust anybody,” said Spader.
“Hey!”
We both looked to our right and saw the gangsters rounding the far corner, headed our way. We had to keep running. Spader and I jammed it down the corridor. Our only hope was to find a stairwell, or at least another corridor. Luckily it was a long hall and we were too far away from the gangsters for them to take a shot at us.
When we got to the end of the corridor, we found a door that probably led to a stairway, but it was blocked by furniture and painting supplies. If we tried to dig through that mess, the gangsters would have us.
“This way,” ordered Spader.
We turned right and sprinted down the next corridor. This hallway ran parallel with the corridor where our room was, on the far side of the hotel. It was pretty long too, so we could stay out of bullet range. But we couldn’t keep running in circles. We had to find an escape route.
Halfway down the corridor, I saw it. An exit sign. Without stopping to think, I took a right into that door. I was hoping to find a stairway, but no luck. It was a service corridor. We were now running parallel to the hallway with the elevators.
“Maybe we can loop around back to the elevators,” I said. “If we’re lucky we’ll catch one closer this time.”
“Hobey-ho,” Spader said.
We ran to the far end of the service corridor and stopped. I slowly opened the door to peek out. No bad guys anywhere. So far so good. We quickly ran out, turned right, and sprinted back along the corridor toward our room. We had come full circle.
But this was scary. For all we knew, one of the gangsters could have doubled back and would soon be rounding the corner in front of us. We passed our room and had only a few yards to go before hitting the elevator corridor again, when we heard footsteps coming toward us. Oops. At least one of the gangsters decided to circle back. He would be on us in seconds!
We were done. I froze in panic.
Spader didn’t. He grabbed my shirt and pulled me into the last room of the corridor before the turn. There wasn’t a second to spare. I caught a glimpse of the gangster coming around the corner.
The two of us dove to the inside of the door. All we could do was hope the gangster wouldn’t peek in. A few seconds later we heard footsteps run by. I looked to Spader. He winked at me. We waited a few more seconds, then slowly took a peek outside to see the gangster running full throttle down the corridor, away from us. Excellent.
Now we had to move fast. We booked out of the room and back toward the elevators. We made the right turn again and saw an empty corridor. We also saw one of the elevator doors opening up! We took off on a dead run.
“Going down?” a voice called from inside the elevator.
We were too far away for him to see us. We kept on running, and I saw the elevator door starting to close. At this point it didn’t matter if the gangster heard us or not, so I shouted out, “Dewey!”
Too late. The elevator door slid shut. We missed it. A second later the nasty gangster appeared at the far end of the corridor. I guess itdidmatter if he heard us. We were now staring right down the pike at worst case scenario.
That’s when the elevator door opened up again! Dewey heard me after all.
“What are you guys doing?” he asked. We both dove into the open car before the door was all the way open. “Close it! Close the door!” I shouted.
Dewey was totally confused. Both Spader and I started pushing the door closed ourselves. “Hey! That’smyjob!” Dewey whined.
W
e ignored him and almost had the door shut when the nasty gangster arrived. He got his fingers in the door and tried to pry it open.
“Down, Dewey!” I shouted. “Not that way.” I looked up.”Thatway.” I looked down.
“But there’s another passenger out there!” Dewey complained. That’s when the nasty gangster showed his revolver. Dewey got the message. He leaped at the door and helped us close it.
“Get us out of here!” I yelled.
Dewey grabbed the control lever and surprisingly enough, we started down. Dewey was better under pressure than I would have guessed. But he looked wild-eyed and scared.
“Who was that?” he screamed. “He had a pistol!”
“Where’s Gunny?” Spader demanded, ignoring Dewey’s question.
“I just saw him in the lobby, headed outside. What’s going on?”
“Nothing Gunny can’t handle,” I said. “Forget about what you saw.”
“But I gotta tell my father about this,” Dewey complained.
“Don’t do that!” I shouted. I think I scared the little guy because he backed up against the side of the elevator. I got my head back together and said calmly, “It was just a joke. Like a prank, you know?”
“But, but that guy had a gun,” Dewey whimpered.
“Gun?” I faked a laugh. “That wasn’t a real gun. That was…that was… a costume. For the costume party. You know the clothes we had on before? Those were costumes too. You thought it was a real gun?”
I faked another laugh, looking sideways at Spader. Spader got the idea and he faked a laugh too.
“Yeah,” Spader said. “It was a toy.”
Dewey wasn’t sure we were telling the truth, but I think it was easier for him to accept it than to think there were guys running around his father’s hotel flashing guns. That was good. If Dewey called the police, they’d have to question us, and I’m not so sure they’d like the answers we had to give. No, it was better this way. But we had to find Gunny and let him know what was going on. Finally we got to the lobby, and Dewey opened the door.
“Thanks, Dewey. We’ll let you know when the next costume party is, okay?” I said.
The Never War tpa-3 Page 6