CHAPTER 14
Fifteen hours to Linear Shift
The knock on the door came just minutes after Peter had sat down for dinner with his family.
“Want me to get it, dad?” asked Tori eagerly.
“No, you two eat. I’ll go see who it is,” Peter said as he stood and walked from the kitchen.
Peter opened the front door, expecting to be accosted by some ill-timed missionaries. Or . . . maybe it was Jules! To his disappointment, it was General Applegate.
“General. Everything OK?” Peter asked as he stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” inquired the general.
“We just sat down for dinner,” Peter said, irritated that his last meal with the kids was interrupted. “What can I help you with?”
“I won’t take too much of your time, Peter. I just wanted to give you this.” Applegate pulled a large, sealed manila envelope and handed it to Peter.
Peter inspected the envelope; it was blank. “It’s sealed up pretty good. Do I open it now or later?”
“I want you to open this when you reach 1942. No sooner. After you open it, I need you to follow the instructions to the letter. No hesitation, no questions. Do you understand?”
“Uh, sure. Anything I need to know about the contents?” Peter asked, feeling a little perplexed.
“Nothing to worry about. Once you arrive, there are a series of tasks that need to be executed, in order, to properly establish the link back to the present. This envelope contains specific information about your part of the mission, and it is critical that no one else on the team is made aware of it. You must assure me, Peter, that you will keep this last bit of information confidential, even from Miss Frey. Once you open the envelope, everything will be apparent.”
Peter paused. “Listen, General. You’re in charge, I get that, but I have to question your motivations here. I can’t tell anyone? How about when we get to 1942? I’m going to be spending weeks with the docs and a month with Julie!”
“Absolutely not. This packet contains . . .” Applegate hesitated momentarily, as if searching for the right words. “It contains a side mission.”
“A side mission? I don’t suppose you’d like to clarify,” Peter said incredulously.
“No. Peter, it is imperative that you follow the instructions precisely as they are laid out in the envelope.”
“I don’t suppose I have a choice here.”
“Yes, Peter, I think you do. It’s called free will, but I hope that once you open the envelope, you will understand.”
Peter listened and felt uneasy. “Come again?” he asked cautiously.
“I am merely stating that your choices in 1942 could have drastic consequences. Just keep that in mind while you handle all forms of currency.”
Peter froze. Did the general know about Operation Abraham? He wondered if he should confess to his alternative motivation or play along with the ploy.
“All right. Nobody knows about the envelope and I open it in private, only after arriving in 1942,” Peter agreed.
“Great. I’m glad we understand each other.”
General Applegate focused on Peter for a few more seconds before turning and walking toward his car. He paused and turned back to Peter. “Be sure to be at the warehouse at 7:30 sharp. Tomorrow is going to be a day for the history books!” Applegate resumed his march to his car.
Peter stood on his porch a moment longer, watching the general drive up the street. Looking down at the envelope, he wondered if he should disobey his orders and go ahead and open it now. Before he could make that decision, Brett opened the front door.
“Dad? Everything OK? Your dinner’s getting cold.”
“It’s all good, sport. I was just given some additional paperwork to take on my business trip tomorrow.” He slid the envelope under his arm and followed Brett back into the house. Tonight was the night to savor all the memories, emotions, and love for his family. It was also a night wracked with the fear of never seeing them again.
It was that time of night where being up too late danced with getting up too early, and Peter was wide awake. He lay there glancing about the darkness throughout his bedroom; his mind on overdrive. His thoughts, mostly of the mission’s success, continued to invade his rest ensuring sleep was a lost cause. Peter turned his gaze to the open window and stared out into the night. He wondered if Julie was having sleep trouble as well. Looking at the clock, it was just after 2:00 in the morning. Was it too late to call?
Peter swung his legs to the floor as he reached for the phone. He punched in her number and was surprised when she picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?” she answered questioningly.
“Hi. It’s me. Did I wake you?”
“Peter? Is everything OK? It’s 2:15 in the morning.”
“I know. I couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have called…”
“It’s OK, really. I’m awake. Just laying here, thinking about the mission.”
“Same here. I feel ready for whatever tomorrow brings, but my mind keeps going over everything in slow motion,” Peter paused, wondering if he should tell Julie everything that was keeping him up. “What if we don’t make it, Jules? I mean, what if we die and nothing changes in the present?”
Julie was silent for some time before replying. “It’s OK to have those thoughts, Peter. You have a family to think about. Honestly, I would be worried about you if you didn’t.”
“What about you? What’s really keeping you up?” Peter asked.
“Same thoughts, I guess. More about my ancestors in France though. I also think that Griff and Brett are two of the smartest guys I know, and they are going through the machine with us. Have they shown any sign of nervousness or insecurity?”
“Well, no. Not that I’ve noticed.”
“Neither have I. Peter, I think we are going to do great tomorrow. I think you will do great.”
Peter thought about just how foolish he was being. “Thanks, Jules. I’m not sure if it’s your words or just hearing your voice, but I think I’m good now. We should both get some rest.”
“Wow. That was easy. I thought I’d have to whisper sweet nothings to you for at least an hour.” Julie feigned mock disappointment.
Feeling more foolish by the minute for calling her, Peter said “Sorry to disappoint, but I really am fine. See you in the morning?”
“Good night, Peter.”
“Night, Jules.” Peter hung up the phone and leaned his head back to the pillow. Moments later, he was fast asleep, and he didn’t dream all night.
CHAPTER 15
Five hours to Linear Shift
Peter awoke just a few hours after his conversation with Julie. He felt more rested than he would have imagined after limited sleep. A quick shower, and he was ready for his life-altering day to begin.
“What are the rules?” Peter asked Tori, as she finished off her bagel breakfast.
“Dad, we just talked about this last night. We’ll be fine. It’s not like you’ve never left us alone before.” Tori retorted, without addressing his question.
“I know, kiddo, but it’s just that I’ve never been away for an extended period of time. I know you’ll do fine, but humor me, please?”
“Fine. Come right home after school. Do our homework every night. Nobody comes over. No parties. Lock the doors the minute we’re inside. Don’t answer the door… Do I need to go on?” Tori asked sarcastically.
“No, that’s fine. I think you’ve got it.” Peter replied, feeling somewhat relieved that his daughter actually remembered most everything they’d talked about over the last week. “I’ll be home in a few days, so there’s really nothing to worry about.” he added.
“I know, Dad. That’s what I kept telling you last week.” Tori placed her dishes in the sink when she heard the sound of a car idling out front. “I think Trevor just pulled up.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed and worry lines p
ulled across his forehead.
“Dad. Just go. We’ll be fine. GO!” Tori said with a reassuring smile.
“OK. I’m going. I love you. Tell Brett I love him too when he gets out of the shower.” Peter said, as he hugged his daughter. Grabbing his jacket and bag, Peter walked out of the house, wondering if he would ever step back into this life again.
The drive in to the warehouse passed by, mostly in silence. That gave Peter time to assess his choices over the past few weeks. Had he spent enough time with the kids? He thought so. Did he leave his life in order, in case he didn’t survive? The general assured him that things would be taken care of. Did he plan enough for Operation Abraham? He hoped so. Yesterday, he had spent the entire afternoon researching the final aspects of his personal mission. Yes, he had done everything possible, and all that was left was to move on. Complete the mission and get back to his kids. He had never felt more confident. This was life-changing. Peter’s introspection halted as Trevor pulled up to the warehouse.
“Here you go, Mr. Cooper,” Trevor said. “I wish you luck. I know you will be successful.
“Thanks Trevor. I mean it. Thanks for everything for the last month.” Peter said.
“It was my pleasure, Mr. Cooper.” Trevor said, adding more emphasis to Peter’s surname.
Peter smiled, and then said “You know Trevor, I really thought you being my driver and constant presence was quite a nuisance. At first. But in hindsight, I am not sure I could have done it without your help.”
Trevor looked at Peter graciously, “Thanks, Peter. That means a lot.”
“Now, I’ve got to go! If I never see you again, it’s nothing personal.” chided Peter as he climbed out of the black town car for the last time. He was certain Trevor knew the team was going back to 1942 but wondered if he knew the implications of what they were about to do. For all Peter knew, their mission could potentially erase certain people forever. They might never exist. Peter suddenly realized that they were playing God, and that disturbed him.
Once inside, he glanced a final time at the French village and wondered how accurate it really was. He’d find out shortly. As usual, the streets were abandoned, but Ops was bustling. He was the last member of the team to arrive. Scattered about the large conference table sat the members of his team, the general, and a number of other military personnel Peter hadn’t seen before. In addition, there were a half dozen assistants milling about, handing out folders and filling water glasses.
Peter strode in and sat next to Julie. She looked over at him and smiled. Her demeanor had changed since their briefing yesterday. Julie had been astonished and hesitant after hearing the French destination. Today, she had a giddy air that Peter found refreshing.
“Excited or scared?” Peter asked.
“Both! I couldn’t sleep a wink last night.”
“Me either. Until we talked, that is.” Peter winked.
Before they could exchange another word, General Applegate called the room to attention.
“Good morning, everyone. It is now 7:40 and mission departure is in three hours. We need to be diligent. The schedule this morning is as follows: From now until 8:30, we will answer any last minute questions that may have arisen since yesterday’s briefing. I suspect that any questions you might have were answered in the paperwork distributed yesterday. From 8:30 to 10:00, you will be in wardrobe. We have several clothing options for each of you. You will be transported with only the clothing we provide for you. You will be sent with adequate funding to purchase clothing for the remainder of your mission. After wardrobe you will report to sublevel six for mission departure.”
Peter considered this. Was it going to be like boarding an airplane? Now boarding seats one through four, please, he imagined the crackled announcement. He found it funny that in that moment he was comparing time travel to an airport concourse gate.
Having thoroughly reviewed the briefing from yesterday, Peter had no questions. He wanted to get dressed and get on with the mission. His anxiety was manifesting itself with jittery hands and excessive sweating. He wondered if that would be a problem.
Peter looked about the room. Most everyone was sitting, experiencing the same discomfort. Several minutes passed and there were no questions. Peter’s unease got the best of him.
“General, I’m feeling a little anxious this morning. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, but not having traveled through time before, what should we expect?”
“Peter, I would be worried if you weren’t experiencing anxiety this morning. After wardrobe you will each be given an anti-anxiety supplement. It should reduce your stress level and put you at ease for the jump. Your intellectual faculties should not be impaired.”
Trying to quell his apprehension, Peter wondered how many others had taken this trip. After all, this wasn’t as common as taking a plane to Vegas.
He leaned back and observed the visiting military personnel question the procedures leading to transport and the potential impact of cellular degeneration. They were obviously there to observe this monumental undertaking. The general answered the questions he could and sought assistance for the technical ones he couldn’t. With that, the team was ushered off to wardrobe.
Two hours to Linear Shift
Since Peter had been down there last week, he was relatively unaffected by their desolate surroundings. He was certain that Drs. Lamb and Larsson had also been to the basement; neither of them showed any hesitation. If they are going to get us home, he thought, they better have studied the devices before today. Julie, on the other hand, was full of trepidation and excitement. Peter wanted to share his recent trip through the tunnel but kept his promise to the general.
Passing through the final security door, Peter stepped into the frigid confines of the long concrete tunnel. Julie’s sudden realization of what lay beneath them seemed to motivate her. Her pace quickened.
While Peter followed and feigned interest in the aesthetics of the grey, concrete tunnel, he missed the rust colored stain covering a spot on the floor half way down the tunnel. Moments later, they arrived at a doorway opening to a long stairway headed down. Two by two, as if loading the ark, the team began to descend. Peter glanced ahead to General Applegate and wondered if he’d demonstrate his bizarre behavior that Benny and Stella talked about. Peter was certain that it was a nervous reaction of some sort, but the precise cause was unknown.
“Our first stop will be sublevel two for wardrobe,” stated the general as he mechanically climbed down the worn steel stairway.
Going down a single flight of stairs only took moments. When they reached the level, the general slid an odd-looking key into the antique door lock. An audible clink echoed widely as the general pulled open the door. Peter could see that the initial layout was similar to SUB-10. The group walked down the corridor, which Peter assumed would open into a gathering room. He was half right; the corridor did open into a larger room, but it was enormous compared to level ten. The space had never been finished suitable for living quarters. He could see exposed steel beams on the ceiling and gritty concrete walls around the perimeter. In the center were a half dozen racks of antique clothing. To the left of the clothing racks were two temporary changing rooms, crudely constructed of waferboard.
“Gentlemen, these racks will provide you with clothing for the trip. You will only need one outfit, and be sure to include an overcoat. It will be raining when you arrive. Julie, the women’s section is this way. Follow me.” Applegate led Julie around the corner as Peter joined the two doctors inspecting the racks.
The screech of wire hangers sliding on metal rods echoed throughout the cavernous level as the three men sifted through the vintage clothing. The diversity was sparse, mainly offering drab-colored sport coats and trousers with button-up shirts. Peter honestly didn’t care how he was dressed, just as long as the clothing was date appropriate and fit properly. He pulled three pairs of trousers from hangers and picked out matching shirts before heading into one of the makes
hift fitting rooms. Five minutes later, Peter emerged wearing olive tweed pants with a cream collared shirt and his black suede loafers.
“Well? How do I look?” Peter asked, walking up to the general.
General Applegate assessed Peter’s attire and nodded. “Looks good, but you need to lose the shoes. Nothing from the present goes back. Did you grab a pair of socks and underwear from the bin?” Applegate pointed to a large box overflowing with undergarments at the end of the aisle.
“Are you serious? You want me to wear another man’s boxers?” asked Peter incredulously.
“Yes. If you ignore the smallest detail, it could jeopardize the mission. They’ve all been washed, you’ll be fine.” General Applegate looked away, indicating the discussion was over. Peter returned to the clothing area and begrudgingly picked out the cleanest pair of tan boxers he could find, and grabbed a pair of brown socks before moving to the shoe bin. Discouraged, he stepped back into the changing room to complete his costume.
As Peter finished redressing, he heard a sharp click-clack echoing across the cavernous level and steadily growing louder. “What the hell is that?” he murmured to himself. A few minutes later, the clamor ceased. Peter re-emerged from the booth and was greeted by Julie.
“Hiya, Hubby,” she said and twirled in a full circle. She was dressed in a beige cotton, pleated skirt and a navy-blue knit blouse. She sported a pair of vintage strap-back heels to complete the ensemble. “How do I look?”
“You look wonderful, Julie,” Peter said without hesitation.
“Thank you, sir. Let’s see you. Spin,” demanded Julie.
Peter did so, and Julie nodded. “Very handsome, Peter. I approve.”
“Thanks, Jules. But I’m not crazy about wearing another man’s drawers. First thing we do in ‘42 is go shopping.”
“Agreed,” replied Julie, walking toward yet another box of vintage wear.
Peter’s eyes followed her and saw what she was scrutinizing: a box of purses, handbags, and wallets.
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