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The Slaves for Freedom doctor bound up my wounds and also took care of the other agent. When he came to, we had some questions for him.
“What’s your name?” I asked, trying to place his face.
“I’m Max Roman. I was sent as a contingency to make sure that you didn’t fail your mission,” he told me.
Suddenly, I recognized the commander. “Well, in a way, you did just that,” I said. “Your shooting me brought Nikki back to reality. My willingness to sacrifice myself proved to her that I was telling the truth.”
“Well, I’m glad that we’ve been able to recover you,” he said, turning to Nikki. “But there’s still the issue of thwarting tomorrow’s attack. How are you going to stop it?”
“I’ll just keep the codes to myself,” said Nikki.
“And you’re the only one who has them?” Roman asked.
“The only one still alive. I set it up that way on purpose – to protect myself. Just in case anyone decided to double-cross me, I’d be worth a lot more to my new allies alive than dead.”
“They don’t have a workaround?” I asked.
“Not that I know of,” she said. “But it won’t matter anyway. I’m going to call in a very detailed anonymous tip to the FBI, the CIA, and the NSA – just to be sure – you know they don’t communicate that well between themselves. They’ll find the device today.”
“How do we get back home?” I asked Roman.
“I was sent as an in-and-out job,” said Roman. “Get in - restore things so that when this superthread takes over, life will be all right in the future - then get out. Extraction is supposed to take place at the next window, which occurs tomorrow afternoon.”
“Then they can just take us all home, then,” I said.
“Not so simple,” said Roman. “Nikki Scott is established here. She could wind up dead in a park, but she can’t just disappear. Remember, that’s the whole reason we didn’t just perform a smash-and-grab extraction with her in the first place. A cover needs to be provided.”
“Can’t we make it look like she was killed by her co-conspirators for failing to deliver the nuke codes?” I asked.
“That would work,” said Roman, “but we’d need to do it right – something that would leave no identifiable remains.”
“My doctor specializes in that kind of work,” said Nikki. “That’s why I pay him the big bucks. He can make it look like I was disappeared, no problem.”
“Then let’s go home,” I said.
I grasped Nikki’s hand with my left hand, the other now in a sling. Her touch felt good – it felt right. It was like there had been a transformation. Holding Nikki Scott’s hand had been a mixture of sadness, anger, longing, and revulsion. Holding Nikki Dennis’ hand – having my wife back – seemed to make the pain of being shot fade into the past. “It’s good to have you back,” I said. “It’s been a long time.”
THE END
Time and Again: A Collection of Crazy Chronology Page 14