The Legend of Indian Stream

by Steven Landry

  With white flags raised, General Lee and the six designated Union officers trotted out into the open field. As Peta watched through a pair of high-powered binoculars, they stopped one hundred yards north of the defensive palisades and waited for a response. After about a ten minute wait, a similarly sized delegation emerged from the walls and cantered to the meeting spot. Peta saw the shock on the faces of the rebel officers when they recognized General Lee in the midst of the Union delegation.

  After a brief discussion, the entire group moved off towards the Confederate lines and disappeared behind the ramparts. Peta and Luke settled down to wait.

  “So you think this is the end of it?” Luke asked.

  “I do,” Peta said emphatically. “The Army of Northern Virginia was the Confederacy’s center of gravity. The whole rebellion will collapse. I saw the look on Lee’s face as his men marched off from Chancellorsville. He’s a beaten man. Even if General Smith refuses to surrender, Lee won’t fight again. And if Bobbie Lee won’t fight, neither will Johnny Reb.”

  “I think you’re right. Virginia will be out of the war this week. From what you told me, Vicksburg is about to fall, and General Rosecrans is pushing into Georgia. Tennessee has already fallen, and the fall of Vicksburg will give the Union control of the Mississippi, cutting Texas, Arkansas, most of Louisiana, and the Confederate territories in the west off from the rebel states in the east. Their political and military leadership is in tatters. The only thing the south can do now is bleed.”

  Peta, Luke, and the rest would wait two days and nights at the edge of the woods. At one point Luke noticed that Peta’s old sock monkey, Stocaí, was perched at the corner of her window. He smiled. “Thanks for bringing her back to me, old friend.”

  With lots of time on their hands, they made wedding plans, Peta having accepted Luke’s proposal after the Army of Northern Virginia’s surrender. It would be a tricky negotiation, one that would involve Peta’s stepfather, as well as Luke’s parents, who probably still considered Peta the devil incarnate.

  Towards evening on the second day, Keefe called on the radio.

  “Six, this is Five, over.”

  “Five, this is Six, go.”

  “Switch your view to my Skyblade, over.” Reaching for the monitor, Peta recalled that Keefe’s Skyblade UAV was circling over the capital district in Richmond, which had been outside the circle of death, as it was being called.

  “Roger Wilco, over and out,” Peta transmitted with a grin. Having just spent the last two hours being schooled by Peta on proper radio procedure, Luke gave her a nasty look. Ignoring him, she hit an icon on her monitor and called up the UAV’s camera. The monitor displayed a view of Capitol Square in Richmond. High on a flagpole in the square surrounding the ruined Capitol building, the Stars and Stripes fluttered in the breeze.

  57 - PETA & LUKE

  Philadelphia Derringer: a single-shot, short-barreled, large-caliber pistol often used as a pocket gun by criminals and assassins. Generally sold in pairs, it was produced for .41, .44 and .45 caliber ammunition, with barrel lengths ranging from 1.5 inches to 6 inches. Glossary, An Illustrated History of the Republic, Helen O’Shea, Ed.

  Alexandria, Virginia, USA, 1830 hours, Wednesday, July 1, 1863

  Margaret Sampson, aka Delilah, widow of the farmer and tailor Alfred Sampson, took up residence in Alexandria, Virginia. Along with the families of the Union prisoners lost at Castle Thunder, the Sampson’s had been generously compensated for Joe’s injuries. The family lived in a modest mansion in Alexandria, where they were attended by her head housekeeper, Megan O’Rourke, code named Cinderella, a senior ISRM field operative. Golden Eagle, aka Captain Peta (Carver) Barns, was visiting with her new husband, Luke, who had been promoted to Captain and had received the Silver Star from President Lincoln personally in June. Jennifer and Jake were also visiting.

  The house was ideally suited to hosting formal dinners. The former owner’s wife loved to throw parties, but he had been forced to sell the home when profits from his tobacco plantation plummeted following manumission of the slaves that had done all the work. Margaret had invited American Secretary of State William Seward and his wife Frances to dinner, as well as the Republic’s Ambassador to the United States, Ian McMaster and his wife Kaitlin.

  The ISRM Intelligence Branch and the Foreign Ministry had arranged the meeting to allow McMasters to urge Seward to press President Lincoln to uphold the agreement Corcoran Fallon had made with General Lee, and to press Seward into formally selling Happy Valley Ranch to the Republic.

  The meal was delicious. By the time the port was poured, Peta believed that McMaster had won the Secretary over to the Republic’s position.

  * * *

  Ford’s Theatre, Washington DC, 1930 hours, Friday, July 3, 1863

  As a precaution, Margaret had rented the lower balcony box next to the Presidential Box at Ford’s Theatre for the entire run of Our American Cousin, starring Harry Hawk. She and Peta had attended the first matinee performance and secreted four nine millimeter handguns and one twenty-two caliber automatic pistol, with silencer, into the box, hiding them in the bottom of an umbrella stand, then inserting a false bottom. ISRM Intelligence Branch didn’t know if the actor John Wilkes Booth was still going to try to assassinate President Lincoln, but if he did, they intended to stop him, hopefully at a point where his intentions were clear to everyone involved. The Republic didn’t want to have to explain killing an American citizen – one from a state that had remained in the Union – without sufficient cause.

  Margaret, Luke, Jake, Jennifer, and Peta attended each show, waiting to see if President and Mrs. Lincoln would arrive. Megan O’Rourke was stationed outside the theatre to watch for their arrival, and to keep an eye out for Booth. She was in communication with the team inside via small radios hidden beneath their clothing, and flesh-toned earpieces.

  Margaret, Jennifer, and Peta wore formal gowns, albeit with secret pockets. Luke wore his U.S. Army uniform, and Jake wore a tuxedo. Peta complained she felt like a stuffed peacock in the tight corset and fancy shoes. Luke replied that she looked great and said she looked like a proper lady, for a change. Peta promised to repay him for that remark.

  The Lincoln’s finally arrived on Friday evening, with minimal security. Alerted by Megan to the arrival of the President and Mrs. Lincoln, Margaret and Peta arranged themselves in the box so that Luke could retrieve the five weapons from the umbrella stand without being seen. Peta took the twenty-two while the others took the nine millimeter pistols. Luke placed his weapon in a holster inside his tunic, Jake placed his inside the jacket of his tuxedo, and the women placed theirs in the hidden pockets within their gowns.

  Peta and Luke were standing in the corridor near the Presidential Box when President and Mrs. Lincoln arrived. President Lincoln recognized Luke from the award ceremony. While he had never met Peta, he was well aware of her exploits during the Battle of Glasgow. He introduced them to his wife, and in turn Luke called Margaret out from the box and introduced her as well. Mrs. Lincoln invited them all to join them in the Presidential Box, and introduced the other people in their entourage, Army Colonel John Pershing and Navy Captain Oscar Burke, and their wives, Ann and Clara.

  Jake and Jennifer remained out of sight in their box, the backup team.

  Peta noted that on this level, the President’s only security was a scruffy looking policeman. Upon entering the Presidential box, she saw that it was actually two boxes, separated by a door. There were chairs in both boxes, with a rocking chair set up for the President in the inner box.

  Luke and Margaret took chairs behind Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln, while Peta took a seat in the outer box next to the Union officers, who relaxed a bit at her choice. They appeared somewhat wary of a particularly ferocious half-Blackfoot Indian ISRM officer sitting behind the President of the United States. That suited Peta fine; Booth would have to go through the outer box to access the inner box where the President sat. The door separating the two boxes was c
losed.

  As Act III began, Megan radioed that Booth, code named Wasp, had entered the theatre by the back entrance. Luke and Margaret removed their pistols and held them hidden in their laps beneath the evening’s program. Jake and Jennifer rose and closed the curtains to their box before drawing their own weapons.

  Peta rose and moved to the back corner of her box, whispering to Clara Burke that she needed to stretch a bit. Once she was safely in the shadows, she removed the twenty-two and clicked off the safety. There was already a round in the chamber.

  A few minutes later there was a knock at the outer door. Capitan Burke rose and opened the door a crack, and a note was passed through. The Captain took the note, read it, and then shared it with Colonel Pershing. The Colonel nodded, and the Captain went back and opened the outer door, admitting Booth. Once Burke turned back to his seat, Booth placed a walking stick so as to barricade the outer door and went to the inner door, removing a Philadelphia Derringer pistol from his coat pocket.

  Peta stepped up behind Booth and fired two nearly silent shots into the back of his head. Captain Burke, Colonel Pershing, and their wives turned at the sound of Booth hitting the floor. As he collapsed, his Derringer fell to the floor where everyone could see it. Peta spoke into the microphone at her wrist. “Wasp is down, I say again, Wasp is down.”

  Peta placed her pistol on a nearby chair and held up her hands as Captain Burke and Colonel Pershing drew their side-arms. At a word from their husbands, the other two women quickly drew the box’s curtains closed. The Colonel went to the inner door and opened it. Luke was waiting for him, nine millimeter in hand.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll keep the President safe,” he said. “You do what you have to do.” Colonel Pershing closed the door and bent to check Booth’s pulse. Finding none, he turned to Peta.

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  “ISRM Intelligence Branch got a tip,” she replied. “We weren’t sure enough to alert you, but thought it best to take precautions. I’m glad we did.”

  By the time the play ended, Booth’s body had been removed and the blood stains covered with a rug. Mrs. Lincoln emerged through the inner door, chatting with Margaret about the play, followed a moment later by the President and Luke. Colonel Pershing asked to speak to the President for a moment. Mrs. Lincoln turned, and the President motioned for her to proceed to the carriage. Margaret went with her.

  “Sir, there has been an assassination attempt,” Colonel Pershing said, once Mrs. Lincoln was out of earshot. “It was foiled by Mrs. Barns. A troop of Cavalry has been summoned to escort you and Mrs. Lincoln back to the White House and stand guard. In the meantime, I suggest you keep Captain Barns close by. He is armed and seems to know what he is doing. We’ll try to get to the bottom of this from here.”

  “Sir, I would also suggest that you immediately provide protection to Vice President Johnson and Secretaries Seward and Stanton, as well as General Hooker,” Luke said. “If someone planned to assassinate the President, they might well have planned to kill his key supporters as well.” Peta fervently hoped there were no more targets on the conspirators’ hit list.

  * * *

  Much later that evening Luke reflected that he might have made a pretty good spy. He had already crawled into bed, but Peta was apparently still struggling with the ball gown behind a dressing screen in the corner of the oversized Victorian bedroom.

  “Do you need any help with that,” he called.

  “No thanks, I’ve got it,” she replied. Peta stepped out from behind the screen wearing nothing but the corset and a pair of riding boots. All thoughts of espionage immediately fled Luke’s mind as she approached the bed, a riding crop in one hand.

  * * *

  Washington DC, 1300 hours, Saturday, July 4, 1863

  Luke and Peta sat on a blanket on the National Mall in front of the United States Capitol. The last night’s final act had been interesting, exciting, and just a little scary. Lady Barns, as she had insisted he call her during their late night romp, was nowhere in sight today. Peta was back to the highly-focused, driven Pathfinder he knew and loved.

  At the moment, she was helping Margaret set up what looked like a box camera. She held the tripod steady while Margaret set the black box on top and pointed the lens towards the podium where Lincoln would deliver his Independence Day address. The device was a camera, but not one that took a simple black and white picture. It would beam live audio and video back to the Republic, where the Supreme Council anxiously waited to see if Secretary of State Seward’s assurances, given the previous Wednesday evening, would be translated into the President’s speech. Peta peered into the depths of her bag, where a small monitor hidden from those around them showed the camera’s view. She nodded to Margaret when the podium was framed in the display.

  Dwight, Jake and Jennifer were watching the crowd for any potential assassins, which was what Luke was supposed to be doing too. He reapplied himself to the task. There were thousands of people picnicking on the vast lawn between the Capitol and the half-completed Washington Monument.

  58 - CORCORAN

  Republic of Indian Stream, 1330 hours, Saturday, July 4, 1863

  Eight hundred kilometers north of Washington, Corcoran watched the video feed. Minister Elaine Keefe and Doctor Sheila Flynn were watching the monitor with him in the small conference room at Fort Evergreen. They discussed the latest medical findings as they waited for the speech to begin.

  “We’ve completed blood testing of every person we could find who spent time in the prison camps, Union and Confederate alike,” Sheila said. “There’s no trace of Thunder pestis. I’m still concerned about that rebel general that was in the cell with Anna and Worthington. He was probably swallowed up in the abyss when Anna opened the portal, but we can’t be absolutely sure.”

  “We’re still looking for him,” Elaine said. “We’ve got the Union looking too.”

  “That’s good,” Sheila said. “Follow up tests on Anna are all negative as well.”

  “How is she otherwise,” Corcoran asked.

  “As well as can be expected. Her facial reconstruction surgery went well, and she’s in physical therapy, learning to use the prosthetic legs. Got her back off the pain killers, too. Dwight Carver has been a big help there. He’s barely left her side since he got back from Virginia.”

  “I hope neither he nor Jennifer ever learns she was responsible for Mellissa Carver’s death,” Elaine said.

  “The number of people that actually know that is very small,” Corcoran said. “Let’s keep it that way.”

  “You know, once the temporal tide reaches the 22nd Century and they learn how she stopped the plague, they’ll probably stop at nothing to cut off our access to the time machine again,” Elaine said.

  “Or, if we really have stopped the plague, they’ll never invent the time machine in the first place,” Sheila said, “and we’ll lose time travel capability for good.”

  “A fair point, but since we do have portal generation capability again, at least for a while, I want to start building a large airframe assembly facility at Happy Valley Ranch,” Corcoran said.

  “I agree,” said Elaine. “Now that all the generators are synched to the same time machine, we can resume bringing in 21st Century tech, at least until the tide catches up again.”

  There was a loud cheer when the President appeared at the podium. Once the applause settled down, he began to speak.

  “Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. We have just concluded a great civil war that tested whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, could long endure. Many perished so that government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth. But now is a time for healing our great nation.”

  The man knows how to write a speech, Corcoran thought.

  “As President of the United Sta
tes, I proclaim to all persons who have, directly or by implication, participated in the rebellion, that a full pardon will be granted to each of them, with restoration of all rights of property, except as to slaves, and upon the condition that every such person shall take and subscribe an oath of allegiance to the United States, and thenceforward keep and maintain said oath inviolate.”

  Corcoran smiled. The words mirrored those Lincoln originally wrote in his Proclamation of Amnesty and Reconstruction of December 1863 in the original history. The proclamation was never implemented due to his assassination by Booth in that timeline. Maybe it’ll work in this one.

  THE END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Dr. Steven Landry, PhD, MBA, is a husband, father, soldier, engineer, and consultant. He is a retired U.S. Army officer, a former FEMA training and exercise planner, and a risk management consultant specializing in weapons of mass destruction. He holds degrees in Chemical Engineering and Business Administration from Worcester Polytechnic Institute and Stanford University.

  Steven lives with his family in Maryland. This is his first novel. Friend him on Facebook for extras, including maps, and previews of his next novel.