by Gene P. Abel
“Resulting in continued economic prosperity,” Professor Stein added. “Economic victory without the war for which you would be reviled for many years thereafter. Not to mention that the atomic bomb doesn’t get used.”
“Exactly,” Eiji said in terse syllables. “Japan enjoys far greater prosperity while erasing its dishonor.”
Dr. Weiss now spoke up. “But Eiji, you must realize that time may not work out that way. There are many other variables involved that could still lead your country back into war or even worse results.”
“It is not my position to debate such matters; I am just a soldier. If this is a chance for my country to maintain its post–World War I prosperity while avoiding the mess that was the Second World War, then it is my duty to see it through. I understand why you came back to check the TDE, but you should be wishing my team well. After all, no Pearl Harbor.”
“Tempting, I’ll admit,” Agent Hessman admitted.
“But the flow of time may be self-correcting,” Dr. Weiss pointed out.
“Or we might get a world without the atomic bomb,” Professor Stein said. “Imagine that.”
“But as you say,” Agent Hessman stated, “we could also end up with something even worse. Eiji, what about the German team? What is your involvement with them? We know there must be a German team here also; we ran afoul of one of its members.”
“We do not work with them,” Eiji replied. “In fact, part of our goal is to discover what the German mission is. Much like yours is to discover our purpose.”
“Hmm, another mystery,” Agent Hessman pondered aloud. “The Japanese want to erase their involvement in World War II, while the Germans . . . what?”
He sat there for a moment, then nodded to Lieutenant Phelps, who pulled Eiji back far enough so Agent Hessman could stand up.
“What’s our next move?” Dr. Weiss asked as he, too, stood up.
“We need more information on current events,” Agent Hessman decided. “Gather everyone up. We need to find another newsstand.”
At a motion from Agent Hessman, Captain Beck pulled Claire back into the group as they took off across the wide lawn of Central Park, though not without a few words from the reporter.
“What’d you find out?” she demanded. “Come on, you’ve got to tell me something.”
But they did not, adding to the growing list of questions that Claire Hill had for her alleged partners.
18
Reporter Face-Off
The team found another newsstand alongside the street outside Central Park, Captain Beck once again flipping out a coin for a paper while muttering something about not losing this one in a gunfight. Claire, meanwhile, was voicing her verbal objections to Agent Hessman, Professor Stein, and anyone else on the team who would listen.
“Listen, I know a lot about what’s going on in this city.”
“I imagine that comes with being a nosey reporter,” Agent Hessman replied blandly.
“A tenacious one,” she corrected. “And there’s a lot that you could tell me, but you guys have got to talk to me. Tell me what’s going on, or I don’t talk.”
“That hasn’t seemed to have stopped you yet,” Agent Hessman remarked as he leafed through the paper.
“What?” she gasped. “Why, I don’t think I’ve ever—”
“Claire,” Professor Stein cut in, “you have to understand that—”
“And what’s more,” she continued, “I suspect that you aren’t federal agents at all. Now that would be a guaranteed story that I could take to the police. You guys get jail time, and I get a story about some rogue element or group of spies going on with their own secret mission. Sounds like a story that could really sell papers.”
She planted her feet firmly on the ground and held her stance right there in front of them, the look on her face daring them to cross her. Agent Harris looked a question to Agent Hessman, who replied with a slight shake of his head, and returned Claire’s determined gaze with a calm one of his own.
“I can keep this up all day,” she said.
“She can,” Professor Stein acknowledged. “She can glare with the best of them.”
For a moment, Agent Hessman and Claire simply stared at one another, she with a focused fury, he with calm regard as he seemed to analyze her every nuance of expression. All the while, groups of passersby came and went around them, ignorant of the import of what was transpiring within their very midst. Finally he broke the stalemate with a calmly voiced statement.
“You do a very good bluff, Miss Hill . . . Very well, we are not with any federal agency that you would know of.”
“Ha! I knew it. So what are you, spies with some other faction? Anarchists?”
“However,” he continued, “we are trying to protect the interests of the United States. That’s all I can tell you for now, as you will not believe anything else.”
“Try me,” she said challengingly. “I’m quite the open-minded reporter.”
“Claire.” Professor Stein now intervened, reaching over to gently pull her around. “What Lou says is true. We haven’t lied to you. I haven’t lied to you.”
“You just haven’t told me the entire truth,” she countered. “Okay then, look me in the face and tell me straight out. If you’re lying, I’ll see it immediately.”
“A good trait for a reporter to have,” he stated.
“It’s come in handy,” she admitted. “Now talk.”
Professor Stein faced her directly, his eyes looking straight into hers, and spoke as simply and directly as he could. “What Lou says is correct. We are working for the benefit of this country but not with any federal agency you could ever know of. What we hold back from you is both for your own good and ours, and none of it is anything that you would believe. That is all there is to it. If there were more we could tell, we would.”
For several seconds she stood staring into his eyes, looking for any trace of a lie, then broke off with a cough and a nod of admission. “You’re telling the truth.”
“I would never lie to you, Claire.”
“I . . . believe you.”
She stared into his eyes a moment longer, perhaps looking for something else, then broke away and faced Agent Hessman. “Okay, we’re back to me helping you. What do you want to know?”
Agent Hessman turned another page of the newspaper, then folded it up and handed it to Captain Beck before replying. “We know that a meeting of some sort is involved. An important one that would involve high-level dignitaries. Perhaps you could start by listing any important events you may know of. Especially the kind that might not always make it into the popular press.”
“There’s a few that come to mind,” she admitted. “Okay . . .”
Agent Harris guided them down the street, away from any overeager ears that might grow interested in what they were talking about as Claire listed events she knew about.
“Well, there’s been that Fascist movement in Italy, and some anarchist bombings here that some believe are being led by an Italian named Luigi Galleani . . . The Paris Peace Conference was a few months back, and after the Treaty of Versailles, they started talking about forming some League of Nations. In fact, President Wilson is supposed to be arriving in town to give a talk to a few congressmen about the US joining in with this league.”
Professor Stein suddenly broke in. “On his way to deliver the treaty to the Senate. He was supposed to do some campaigning about the League of Nations, but I didn’t know about a secret meeting with—Claire, do you know which congressmen will be at this meeting?”
“I’m not really sure.” She shrugged. “It was all I could find out that this meeting is happening at all. It’s really supersecret, with lots of security around it.”
“Ben, exactly how important is it to know who’ll be at this meeting?” Agent Hessman asked.
; “It could mean everything,” he said with a meaningful look. “Perhaps the single major opposition leader to the league was a congressman named Henry Cabot Lodge.”
Here he pulled Agent Hessman a few paces away from Claire and continued in a more subdued tone. “He was the reason the United States never joined the league.”
“Hmm,” Agent Hessman mused. “So eliminate him and the US joins the League of Nations?”
“Well, it might take a bit more than that. History might be pretty resilient. Another opposition leader could rise up to take his place, for instance.”
“But it’s still a very good place to start. We’re looking for an important high-level meeting, and this sounds about as important and high level as they get.”
He motioned to the others and called out, “Come on, we’ve got a meeting to save.”
“But to where?” Dr. Weiss asked.
“I said President Wilson was coming here for a meeting,” Claire pointed out. “I didn’t say where it would be. I wasn’t able to find that out.”
“Where else in this city would you hold a meeting involving the president and several key congressman?” Agent Hessman prompted. “City hall, of course. Now let’s get moving.”
They started down the street in search of the nearest sidewalk, Professor Stein walking next to Claire behind Agents Hessman and Harris, with Captain Beck and Dr. Weiss following them, and Lieutenant Phelps bringing up the rear with their Japanese prisoner still held securely in the discreet armlock. They had traversed no more than a few feet when their prisoner took advantage of a passing group of people and launched a kick to someone’s shin.
As the pedestrian spun around, crying out in pain, Eiji pointed his free hand accusingly at the lieutenant, who then became the focus of the other man’s rage. Before the lieutenant could do much to respond to the anger of the one with the sore shin, however, Eiji stomped his foot hard onto the lieutenant’s foot, his other heel coming up hard between his legs. To a pained snarl from Lieutenant Phelps and a confused look from the stranger, Eiji quickly spun himself away until he was facing the lieutenant, who held him now by the hand, and brought his free elbow down hard onto the other’s forearm with a sharp martial cry.
The lieutenant’s grip released, and Eiji broke into a run, shoving his way rapidly through the crowd, all within a split second.
“He’s going to warn his team what he heard us discuss,” Agent Hessman said. “After him!”
An angry Lieutenant Phelps was the first one to break into a run.
19
Subway Tunnel Chase
Agent Harris sprinted past Lieutenant Phelps only to be stalled by the passing crowd and a motor vehicle with an angry-sounding horn and an even angrier-sounding driver whose speech demonstrated a certain number of racial expletives. The others ran after them, but such a good-sized group of people trying to run through a crowded New York street was more of a guaranteed way of eliciting angry responses than of making any real progress.
Claire, however, saw the direction Eiji was running as the small man skillfully wove his way through the crowd. She tugged on Professor Stein’s sleeve. “There’s a subway entrance in that direction. He might be headed there.”
“Lou,” Professor Stein then relayed, pointing a hand in the indicated direction, “subway!”
To one man who took particular objection to a black woman and her “anarchist friends” trying to barge their way past him, Lieutenant Phelps took the direct approach. He bodily picked the man up and deposited him out of the way of the others as they ran past. “Behave yourself,” he warned.
Before the man could snap himself out of his apoplectic shock, the large lieutenant was gone.
They raced across the street, weaving around horse-drawn taxis and Model Ts, and a policeman cautioning them with a sharp whistle, nearly colliding with another horse, then barging straight through a pack of pedestrians on the other side, in a race to the flight of stairs leading down to the subway below, where they saw their quarry leap down.
Agent Harris was in the lead but hampered now by others objecting to her presence, and Lieutenant Phelps could only manhandle so many out of the way, especially when it came to the ladies. Captain Beck and Agent Hessman ended up apologizing their way through.
They came to the bottom of the stairs in time to see Eiji leap over the turnstile, surprising the ticket man, and run for the train landing beyond.
“Stop him before he gets on a train,” Agent Hessman called out as they wove through the crowd.
Agent Harris was the first to the turnstile, shoving her way past other customers, leaping over the gate and past the ticket man. “They’re not going to hate me any more in this period than they already do,” she muttered under her breath.
After her, the lieutenant barged his way past, but then came Claire with a quick smile for the man as she cut in front of some people. “Sorry, really important. But don’t worry, the guy at the end is paying for us all.” She pointed vaguely behind them, with a quick smile and wave for some undefined person far to their rear, then hurried on past.
After her followed Professor Stein. “Uh, the guy at the back,” he said hurriedly.
Next came Agent Hessman, who had caught on to the game by now. “Guy at the back’s paying.”
Then Dr. Weiss hurried past with “Man at the back. Tweed coat. Can’t miss him.”
And finally Captain Beck. “Uh, man at the back’s paying for me as well.” He gestured in the general direction behind him and hurried past.
This left an actual customer stepping up to pay for himself and his girlfriend as the ticket man held out a hand waiting for a lot more money.
The landing was crowded with people waiting for the next train, but not crowded enough for a slender Japanese man no taller than five foot four to make his way quickly to the edge of the landing. But he wasn’t about to wait for a train. When the team saw him leap down into the tunnel, a quick-thinking Claire called out with hand pointed, “Look! A Japanese anarchist with a bomb!”
Seeing the man leaping down into the tunnel seemed to be all the confirmation anyone needed. The crowd went from milling about to stampeding back toward the stairs, leaving Lieutenant Phelps to act as a water break against the oncoming tide of panicked humanity. But at least the way was clearing for them, enough that once they were past the initial wave of screaming subway riders, they broke into a dead run across the landing, and into the tunnel for Agent Harris.
One after another they leaped down, Eiji far ahead of them, running as fast as he could along one side of the tunnel. When it came to Professor Stein’s turn to leap down, however, he was not without his objections. “We’re chasing him through there? What if a train comes?”
“See what happens when you miss out on a war?” Claire countered. “You’re afraid of one little train.” She gave him a light shove to start him off, then followed immediately after.
With Agent Harris at the lead and Captain Beck bringing up the rear, they were a long line of people running down the tunnel, keeping as far over to one side as they could. The tunnel was dark, but from ahead they could make out the silhouette of their target when he became backlit by a single bright circular light, quickly nearing.
“Train!” Agent Harris shouted. “Flatten to the wall!”
They all did as advised, including Eiji ahead of them, putting their backs to the wall and pulling themselves as close against it as they could. Lieutenant Phelps had a slight problem doing so due to his bulk. As it was, the wall of the train shot past within an inch of his chest as the train’s horn filled the tunnel with a deafening roar. Speeding cars raced by, filling the team with panicked adrenaline, save perhaps for Agent Harris, whose mind was on how best to resume the chase once the train passed.
The train was nearly past when, in those few seconds, Professor Stein realized his hand was on Claire’s leg, wh
ile she found her arm flattened across his stomach. Neither dared to change the arrangement until the train had passed.
“Clear!” they all heard Agent Harris call out.
Professor Stein immediately jerked his hand away and began nervously stammering out an apology.
“Later,” Claire snapped.
The chase continued down the tunnel, Agent Harris pouring on the speed until she was within a hand’s breadth of the other. She was nearly there when Eiji turned his run into a spinning leap up, one foot swinging around directly for her head. Instinctively she brought up an arm to block, barely in time to deflect the worst of the blow but not without being thrown into the wall. She had no sooner hit than she pushed off with one foot to come at the man in a diving tackle for his waist.
She grabbed him round the knees, tumbling both of them to the center of the tunnel just as another blast from a train horn came echoing at them.
In the brief instant it took Agent Harris to note another bright light at the other end of the second set of tracks in this tunnel, Eiji snapped his legs apart with a sharp cry and rolled away. Agent Harris launched to her feet only to be jerked back by a strong hand to her shoulder. Lieutenant Phelps jerked her back an instant before the train coming down the opposing tracks raced by her nose. Eiji had made it to the other side of the track and was for a moment lost to view.
The others came running down the tunnel, catching up to the pair just as the train finished its passage. Once clear, they saw a set of running feet well down the tunnel, headed for a landing on the other side.
“That mouse is not getting away,” Agent Harris vowed. She led the charge down the tunnel, leaping onto the landing in a single bound. Lieutenant Phelps stopped to help each of the others up, beginning with Claire. By the time the last of them was on the platform, the lieutenant now bringing up the rear, Agent Harris was well up the stairs to the surface in chase. She reached another wide walkway bordering a busy street and glanced around. She saw many people coming and going, cars and buses, and a multitude of visual obstacles, but her eyes were sharp and well trained. Just as the others came charging up the steps behind her, she spotted him. “There, in that alley across the street over there,” she indicated.