Storm Surge (Quantum Touch Book 5)

by Michael R. Stern

  “If it comes to that. He can't get away with what he's done.”

  “Be serious. How are you going to get close enough?”

  “I have a secret weapon. Let's go out for dinner.”

  “It's too early. I haven't had a chance to tell you. Jane and I are going to get married before Christmas. She said she tried on the wedding dress and as long as she doesn't keep it on too long, it fits. So, with a month more healing, her back should be fine.”

  “Glad to hear it. Then what?”

  “We'll go on a honeymoon after Christmas, but I want to take her back to meet Hemingway and Mr. Joyce. Then we'll go to modern-day Paris for a few days.”

  “That should be fun. I wish Linda and I could go too. But, that's not gonna happen.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  An early dinner left time for a quick call to Tony, and a quick trip in the portal. Fritz had only one place in mind—find Koppler. Ashley argued that the right way to do things meant letting the legal process work itself out.

  Ashley put the key in his desk lock while Tony set up the generator connection.

  “You've become a new person, Ash. What happened to all the mess?”

  Ashley growled that he had a great responsibility now that included being organized and ready to go at a moment's notice. “Jane suggested that I keep everything in order. She said I should copy you.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Why don't we go to the Salem Witch trials? We could scare them all for real.”

  “Not a good idea. We'd give them a reason to hang even more people.” Fritz ran his fingers along the spines of Ash's classic literature. Here's one. Let's go see Edgar Allen Poe. We could give him another strange story.”

  “No. His stuff gave me nightmares as a kid. Especially “The Pit and the Pendulum.” I still avoid it.”

  “Then where?”

  “You pick.”

  “My list is in my desk.”

  Tony sat on the hallway floor reading a biography of Albert Einstein. Fritz asked to borrow it, and turned to the picture section. “Tony, do you want to come?”

  Surprised at the invitation, Tony said, “I'd love to, but better I should stay here, just in case.”

  Fritz selected a picture of Einstein in his office at Princeton University and placed one of Ashley's paperclips. Ashley pulled the door open and they walked through. Standing in a corner, Einstein's eyes were closed, a violin in hand, playing Mozart. Fritz and Ashley stood in silence until he opened his eyes, and though startled, a pleasant smile turned up half his face.

  “I did not hear you come in,” he said in a soft, accented voice. “How may I help you?”

  “Dr. Einstein, my name is Fritz Russell. My friend is Ashley Gilbert. We've travelled far to visit you. Do you have time to talk?”

  “I have nothing pressing right now. You say you've travelled far. Where are you from?”

  Fritz glanced at Ashley, who said, “We're from New Jersey.”

  “That's not far. We're in New Jersey.”

  “Dr. Einstein, we've travelled … from the year 2016. Your hypotheses have been proven true. Last year, I found a portal through time and space. That is the passageway.” Fritz pointed at the glowing rectangle behind them.

  Einstein stowed the violin in its case, shifting his focus for a mere moment from his visitors. Running his hand through his unruly hair, he offered seats and sat himself. “You must tell me everything.” He opened a notebook and removed a pen from his pocket, his eyes never leaving Fritz.

  Fritz began the story he had now told so many times. “In the spring of last year, our school, we're teachers, our school was struck by lightning.” For the next few minutes, with Ashley's help, Fritz ran through all that had happened while Einstein wrote.

  “I never expected to see this, but I am pleased you have come. Your arrival comes at a fortuitous time. I have only yesterday sent a letter to President Roosevelt, warning him that the Nazis were developing a new weapon.”

  “The atomic bomb. Your letter is famous.”

  “You know of it. Tell me more.”

  “The question is how much to tell you. If you learn too much, I'm afraid you may alter the outcome, change the future.”

  “A wise decision. You are correct, of course. But you are here, from 2016. So, the Third Reich didn't last a thousand years, as Herr Hitler has been proclaiming.” A twinkle in his eyes, his forehead wrinkled, Einstein shared his conclusion. “The Nazis will lose the war. May I offer you tea?”

  “Perhaps another time,” said Fritz. “I'm sure we have much to discuss.”

  Ashley asked, “Doctor, what is today's date?”

  Fritz said, “It's 1939, sometime in late summer or early fall.”

  “You know this, how?” asked Einstein.

  “As I said, your letter is famous. You and Dr. Szilard sent it to the president. You will get his attention.”

  “That is good. I had never considered the possibility of such a weapon. My friends, Szilard, Teller and others convinced me. If the Nazis succeed, it will be bad for the world.” He stopped and glanced sideways out his window, and smiled again. “But they don't, do they?”

  Fritz and Ashley grinned back, but neither said a thing.

  Einstein turned to the rectangle. He walked across the room, and asked what it was. Fritz told him he wasn't sure, but it was some kind of electrical force field. “May I touch it? Is it powerful?”

  “You'll get a buzz similar to static electricity, only longer lasting.”

  Einstein poked a finger, then his hand into the fluorescence. “And what is in the middle?” he asked.

  “That's the portal. When we walk through, the rectangle goes away, and we return to our time. Dr. Franklin tested it, just like you.”

  “Dr. Franklin? Benjamin Franklin has been through? Would you allow me to take a peek? Just for a moment.”

  Fritz took a deep breath and turned to Ashley, who said, “Why not?”

  “Ash, you go first and I'll follow Dr. Einstein.”

  They startled Tony, still sitting on the floor. When he saw their guest, he jumped up. “I don't believe it.”

  “Dr. Einstein, may I introduce Tony Almeida. Tony is an engineer and has designed a means to open the portal without the help of Mother Nature.”

  After shaking hands, Einstein asked, “Are we in New Jersey?”

  “We are in Riverboro.” Fritz pointed in a vague westerly direction and said, “Philadelphia is across the river, about a twenty minute car ride.”

  “I have heard of Riverboro, although I have never visited. May I look around?”

  “How's the power holding, Tony?” Fritz asked.

  “It's the planes, not the power. They want to go home.”

  “Just a few minutes then. Doctor, follow us,” Ashley said. “You are now in Riverboro High School, 2016.” They led the famous scientist through the school and on the way back, stopped at Fritz's classroom. Fritz told him that his room had been the original portal, but his sadness showed when he said, “but no longer.”

  Before returning to his office, Einstein shook all their hands. “You must come visit me again. I can't wait to tell my colleagues.”

  Fritz reacted with an anxious warning. “Dr. Einstein, if they believe you, and they probably will, consider the consequences. That knowledge may alter the future.”

  “Young man, they won't believe me, of this I am certain. But I will have a wonderful tale to tell them when we eat strudel with our afternoon tea.” The twinkle returned as Ashley opened the portal. Einstein look down the hall, and then into his office, and stepped through, and said, “Come and see me again.”

  “You guys are incredible. One of these trips, I want to go with you.” Tony grinned and began to break down the hook-up.

  “Wait a second,” Fritz said. “Ash, give me your phone.” He dialed the president's cell from memory. “Mr. President, the portal is open. Do you want to go now?”

  “Can you giv
e me about ten minutes? I'm finishing a meeting about Koppler.”

  “Where are you?”

  “The Oval Office.”

  “He's in his office,” said Fritz. “I'll get the brochure.”

  As he turned toward his classroom, Ashley said, “I have it. From Election Day.”

  When Fritz bit his lip, Ashley told him that he wanted it safe, not sitting in the desk with a substitute teacher. “I wanted it close in case I needed it.”

  “No problem,” said Fritz, clearly upset that what had been his private domain would now be shared.

  While they waited, Ashley asked Fritz if he thought that bringing Einstein, or any of the figures from the past to the present would cause unexpected changes. Fritz said, “It could, but I don't think it has. I've been reading history for most of my life, and I think we'd have seen the changes if they had occurred. Ash, it will make them think about their futures, knowing that no matter what happens, the future is assured.” He said that the visits represented only minutes in all the timelines of all the people who ever lived. “Like Tony said, 'Ripples.' But we could be tinkering with our future. I don't know since we can't go forward.”

  Ten minutes later, the president stepped through the portal and handed Fritz a bundle of pictures. “I don't know which one will work best.” They returned to Ashley's desk and spread them out.

  “My mom was studying for her Ph.D. when I was in high school. My father had been killed in a car accident when I was ten. They lived separate lives. He studied in Hawaii and she went to the University of Washington. My father then went to Harvard and my mom stayed behind, alone with me. I spent most of my youth with my grandparents. Here. This one. This is the place mom lived. Fritz, I'd like you to meet her. She was a remarkable woman. A liberal before it was a dirty word, a feminist and an independent spirit. You've combined pictures before, right? How about if you clip the location and her picture together, maybe we can go directly to her?”

  “Not sure. Every time I experiment, the result has been a little different.” Ashley pulled the door. The president took Fritz's arm and nudged.

  “Come with me.”

  “I'll look in to make sure. But you should see her alone.”

  In a blink, the president stepped inside an apartment, listening to soft 60s music and footsteps in the kitchen.

  “What did you talk about?” Fritz asked.

  “My family, her granddaughters, the White House, her inspiration behind health care reform.”

  Only imagining the deep emotions, Fritz reminded him what he'd said in his books, how much she had influenced his thinking, his healthcare policies, his goals. That she had been his touchstone. Fritz removed the picture from Ash's desk. The president looked again at the small Hawaiian apartment.

  “Except for the palm trees, people live pretty much the same everywhere. It's a shame more people can't see how similar their lives are. Maybe we'd all get along better.”

  “You weren't gone that long.”

  “She had a lot of questions. She always had a lot of questions. I wish you'd have come with me. I hope I didn't say anything that would affect the future.” A tear trickled down his cheek. “I'll always miss her. I'd like to go home now.” Ash switched the picture to the White House brochure, and the president vanished.

  Fritz watched Tony take down the connections, and studied the generator and the hook-up, as an idea formed. All I need is Ash's key.

  Chapter 12

  Friday, November 18

  HE KNEW HE shouldn't, but in the morning, Fritz drove to the local home repair megastore, bought a generator, and paid a clerk to load it in the SUV. By the time I need it, I'll have figured it out.

  * * *

  “I'M SORRY, Mr. President.” said the Attorney General. “I wasn't able to convince the judge that Koppler presented a flight risk. We couldn't prove the aliases. He erased his tracks very well.”

  The president listened as visions of the Virginia barn flashed in front of him. Faces passed through his mind. Tom and James, Lily Evans, Steve Sullivan and Ken Shack. How many others had died because of this man? From a stoic blankness, a slow metamorphosis hardened his jaw and his brow lowered. He shocked the Attorney General when he picked up his empty coffee cup and yelling in a pain-wracked howl, threw it and smashed it on the wall across the room.

  “For eight years, I've been called calm and cool. I've been logical and direct. Like Jackie Robinson, I didn't fight back.” He looked in the eyes of a person who understood, and said, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.” He sat down behind his desk, and motioned for the government's head lawyer to take a seat.

  “He can't be left unobserved. He can't be trusted. He has more tentacles than a jellyfish, and just as much sting. He poses a danger to stability everywhere because he has no loyalties to anyone or anything but money. I won't be here much longer and probably neither will you, but for as long as we can, we need to keep the pressure on. Use every tool you have to get this into court fast. Find every statute on conspiracy at your disposal. We may not get him directly, but even indirectly we'll get him off the streets.”

  The Attorney General had often seen him as the public did, and occasionally angry, but never as filled with rage as at that moment.

  “At the height of organized crime's influence, their goal was to control their turf. Koppler wants it all. And I won't let him have it.”

  * * *

  THOMAS KOPPLER looked from the office window at the Washington Monument as he waited for his brother-in-law. He had a job for him, for which he would be paid handsomely. But first he needed to make arrangements. Glad that his resources were always available, he needed to talk to the one Caballero he trusted.

  “You can't leave the country,” said Arthur Salzmann.

  “I'm not leaving, only going into seclusion. You only need to secure the plane.”

  “Where are you going, Thomas? I'll have to deal with the court. Will I be able to reach you?”

  “When I'm settled, I'll be in touch.”

  “If anyone finds out I've let you go, I'll be disbarred.”

  * * *

  FRITZ DECIDED not to return to work before the holiday. The less they saw of him, the better. With the generator in his car, he had copied Tony's surgical conversion of the black extension cord he'd purchased. He moistened the potting clay, so it too would be ready. But he needed to get into his classroom to pick up the books he wanted. Not after school, but in the evening. He'd get Ashley to take him. Maybe they could go somewhere. But not yet. With a little more than a week until school would be empty for four days, he spent his time reading and printing pictures.

  On Tuesday evening, his phone rang. The president had left him alone since their Hawaiian trip. A subdued voice asked him if he would like to come to the White House for Thanksgiving. When he said no, the president asked if he would like to visit his father-in-law in jail. In spite of Tim's denials of wrongdoing, the Justice Department had succeeded in keeping him locked up.

  The president's voice changed to almost cheerful. “Fritz, he made me angry enough, so I've let him stew. When James Sapphire turned over the account records, the judge couldn't make any other decision. But nine days is enough, don't you agree?”

  “Mr. President, if you could keep his mouth in jail, I wouldn't mind. Letting him go isn't going to change much.”

  “We could go together, and you could ask me to let him go, in front of him. That might help.”

  “I'd say that anyway. No doubt Koppler is involved, somehow. What I say won't make a difference, to him or anyone.”

  “You mean Linda. It might.” The president didn't tell him that both he and the First Lady had spoken to her and sensed that Linda might be changing her mind.

  “When would you want to go?”

  “How about tonight? That way I can ask the judge to set him free tomorrow. Before Thanksgiving.”

  Fritz checked the time and told the president he'd call him back. Fritz leaned back and consi
dered that Tim had been kept in jail, and that he had probably done nothing wrong. I wonder how often innocent people go to jail? Not many like him. He called Ashley and Tony and explained what the president wanted to do. Tony said he'd be at the school in half an hour. Ashley picked him up, and they waited ten minutes for Tony, who had company when he arrived.

  “Hi Tony, hi Nat.” Tony set up and Fritz called the president, watching every move Tony made. When the president walked into the hallway with three agents, he handed Fritz low-level overhead photos of the area around the jail.

  “We should portal to here and walk in,” said the president. “Bill will stay at the portal. Mel and Lou will come with us.”

  Fritz asked, “Ash, does that work for you?”

  “Why are you asking me? You know how this works better than I ever will.”

  “You should place the paperclip, just to be consistent. Besides, we shouldn't be long. He won't be happy to see us.”

  “I'm not so sure about that,” said the president.

  A short walk across the street took them into the Federal Building. The president's appearance, rather than surprising, had drawn an audience, with agents Reid and McConnell as the reception party.

  The president winked. “I called them. Avoids problems,” he whispered.

  “He's this way, sir.” Down a short corridor and around a corner to the last room on the left, the president and Fritz stopped before going in.

  “We're here to make nice, Fritz. Let me do the talking. All the talking. Just listen.”

  “Yeah, right.” The agent opened the door. In the sparse room, a small rectangular table sat in the middle, with two chairs on each of the long sides. In one chair facing them, Tim Miller waited and glared at his son-in-law when they entered.

  “Good evening, Tim,” said the president.

  “They told me you were coming, but not him.”

  “Fritz supplied the transportation. I asked him to join me. Thought you might like some company.”

  With no further pretense of cordiality, the president got down to business. Looking him squarely in the eye, he said, “Tell me about your relationship with Telesphore Richemartel, Jonathan Hartmann and the Caballeros. Do you mind if we sit down?”