“An interesting idea, but one that has been thought out, and deemed unfavorable.” At Ethan’s frown, Wallace lifted a finger to prevent interruption. “The fact remains that the Russians are coming, whether it’s fifteen years from now or thirty — it makes no difference when.
“Now, what we do have is a date set in stone that they travel back. This gives us an advantage, albeit a minimal one. It’s only a few short days from now. If we wait all those years for President Bock to take power we’ve already lost. As long as we know their current plans will still be on course, if we attempt to change that timeline then they might attack us at a date we can’t predict. Also keep in mind that if we wait we lose this window of opportunity due to the constraints of our current system.
“As it stands, their insertion date — or, the day that they first travel back to 1948 — doesn’t change. If we can pinpoint the exact location of their jump, we can stop them before they begin their first phase of world dominance.”
This all sounded like something from a bad James Bond movie, and he couldn’t disguise his sarcasm when he said, “What’s the guarantee this little time-space continuum thingy is even going to work?”
“Why Mr. Tannor, haven’t you figured it out yet?” Wallace gave a slight smile, the motion sending out wisps of smoke through his curled lips. “You’ve had the proof at your fingertips for a while now.”
The man tilted his chin at the black briefcase Jackman had put on the desk. Jackman opened the case and began pulling out papers from jacket folders and placing them on the desktop.
Ethan stepped forward to examine the items, keeping an eye on Jackman as he did so. He looked down at the pages. They were the same documents he’d taken from Tobias’s safe and had been studying for the past few days.
Wallace continued, “What we have here is a newspaper clipping from your uncle’s time period and a printout from yours. His parents died in a plane crash — and that was just the nudge he needed to push him into becoming our first candidate for time travel.”
Ethan’s head snapped up. “My uncle worked with you?”
“Is it so hard to believe? Tobias wasn’t comfortable or happy with his own fate. When given the tools to change things to his benefit, he jumped at the opportunity. Your uncle was an amazing individual and had the courage to take that leap without even knowing he would survive the journey.”
This just got more surreal every moment. Uncle Tobias — a time traveler? “How can I be certain all of this is true?”
“Before we had more gear from the future sent back, we used to mark all of our travelers.” Ben reached up, keeping his cigar expertly crooked between his fingers as he unbuttoned his shirt. He spread the material apart to reveal a black ‘S’ between two identical stars that had been tattooed on his chest.
Ethan stared at the design as the memory of Tobias’s own tattoo resurfaced. He’d never thought Tobias was the tattooing type, but that fact had seemed unimportant at the time. Holy shit!
Wallace refastened his shirt. “All I need to know is, do you possess the same strength that he did? Or should I continue to look into these other personnel files?” He jabbed a lanky forefinger at the briefcase.
Wow, pack your bags — we’re going on a major guilt trip! This guy knew how to put the screws to someone. First use family as a weapon, then go for broke — insinuate the target lacked balls. This tactic was laughable to Ethan; he had a military history and police career as proof of his balls to anyone who doubted. Most people were clueless that it took an amazing amount of bravery to head to work each day knowing that you might end up in a body bag with a toe tag to complete the ensemble.
“Well?” Wallace asked, impatience edging his voice. “This isn’t something that you can just get back to us on. We need your answer and we need it yesterday.”
“I’m thinking!” Ethan snapped, trying to buy a little more time before committing to something so insane.
Is this what his uncle had done — jump on board the Crazy Train without question? Ethan had always known Tobias was different, but if his uncle had really taken this leap, he was nuttier than Ethan had ever begun to imagine. His chest tightened. This might explain a lot about the suicide.
“It would appear that the bravery your uncle showed wasn’t his only good quality,” Wallace said. “He also seemed to be clairvoyant. By leaving you that information in the safe and the message on your machine, it was like he knew you would say yes to this mission.”
“How the hell did you know about that?”
Wallace grinned enigmatically and tapped his temple.
This guy’s creepy as shit. Despite Ethan’s detective prowess — which was pretty damn good — he still couldn’t get a bead on the man. It made him feel vulnerable, and this wasn’t a feeling that sat well with him.
“Are you familiar with Sun Tzu, Mr. Tannor?” Wallace cocked his head to one side, sizing Ethan up. The pause seemed to linger a beat too long and then Wallace clasped his hands behind his back and began to speak again.
“Speed is the essence of war. Take advantage of the enemy’s unpreparedness; travel by unexpected routes and strike him where he has taken no precautions.” He pulled one hand around and looked down at it, as though deeply concerned about the state of his fingernails, then rested it back into his other palm and stood staring at the floor. “He was an amazing military strategist. We have found ourselves in countless wars that have spanned centuries and the globe since this man’s existence, yet we still look to him for advice on plans of attack.
“Unfortunately, the members of The Red Hand are also familiar with Sun Tzu and will stop at nothing to see victory. So we too must adopt this course and pursue our enemies wherever they go. Even if that means we must chase them through time.”
Wallace looked up to meet Ethan’s gaze. “That means we must act now, because the failure of action, is an action of failure.”
Ethan didn’t reply to that and Wallace continued, “We had our failures along the way, when we attempted to act too soon. We were responsible for the blackout in ’77 —”
“That was you?” Ethan interrupted. “I suppose the ’79 incident here was also your fault?”
Wallace inclined his head, giving the barest hint of answer. “I was getting around to that. Yes, there were … issues that contributed to the ’79 incident. At any rate, we have fixed the kinks in the system, and the machine works.”
“But why are you using a place so far from your base in New York? Wouldn’t one of the plants closer to the city work better?”
“This location is optimal because it’s sufficiently distant from the city. New York, as you’re aware, is a prime target for the enemy. If something happened there, and our facility was lost, we would lose our capability to travel. Not to mention the human casualties if we cause another meltdown; next time we might not be able to contain the problem so easily.”
He waved a hand, dismissing that topic entirely. “Now back to you, Mr. Tannor. For obvious reasons, we can’t ask of your uncle again. But even if we could, his life has been altered to the point that he no longer fits the qualifications we need; he has served his purpose. You are the next best candidate.”
Next best? Eclipsed by a senior citizen — how awesome for me. “What you’re proposing could cause massive chaos by screwing with the past. Now, I’m not saying that good things can’t spring from the ashes of chaos.”
Ethan took a second to focus his thoughts. “You mentioned the blackout in ’77. I wasn’t on the police force then, but my partner told me how there was a rash of thefts across the counties — that tons of DJ equipment was stolen. But these crimes eventually did create a positive; the equipment was sold on the streets by these thugs to wannabe music artists and there was a surge in the hip hop industry which changed music forever.