Close Call
Fate of Time
Close Call
Yellow alerts dotted the timeline, a countdown next to each of them to signal the hours they had to fix them.
Thankfully, time moved differently at the Time Ministry. Liam wasn’t sure it moved at all. He wasn’t even sure where the building was exactly. But it wasn’t his job to know. His job was to organize dozens of Time Agents and keep history safe.
After the latest Crimson Alert, they were short staffed. Kilian hadn’t been the only one starting over. Six other agents were stuck in new lives in different times but their own. Twenty of the high-ranking officers were under lockdown, unable to leave the Ministry because of an attack on their early lives, or damage to their sense of time.
And didn’t Liam know all too well how one’s life could be altered in a blink of an eye? Even though he’d been cleared to leave, he was still adjusting to the alterations of his own life. None of the personal changes were bad, not at all, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need time to process them.
It was almost time for his mandatory leave to return to his timeline, and Liam was both nervous and excited about it. There were so many things he wanted to do, like going for a walk without his phone. Watching a movie. Reading a book.
For a few days, he’d get to be normal. For a few days, he could focus on the future, be present, and forget the past.
Leaving behind the artificial white and steel walls, the corridors that echoed his steps even on the busiest days sounded like a dream coming true. If he could spend an hour not staring at a screen, writing reports, or being on a mission, he’d feel like a god. Although he dreaded the whiplash, it couldn’t be worse than being stuck here for almost two months.
He rubbed his face. It had been seven weeks for him, but only two for his family.
His attention was pulled back to the screens when a yellow alert turned red and was assigned to his department. Liam frowned. Russia, 1943.
Reaching for the rotary phone on his desk, he dialed the 23rd century’s Director. Even after years, he was amused they still used these ancient things for internal communication.
“Florence,” Liam said when his call was answered. “I have a red alert from nineteen-forty-three.”
“So what? Get it done,” Florence said.
“It’s too close to my time.”
“The Sentinels know what they’re doing. Just get it done.”
He pulled up the available agents’ list. Esme Henrix and Jeremy Bells were the only two with the clearance who were available. With Jeremy’s mandatory leave starting in four hours, he was out of the picture.
“I only have one available agent.”
She laughed. “You have an available agent? It must be good to run your department. I’m sorry, Liam, I can’t help. I have five red alerts going on with only a handful of experienced agents.”
“What about the 26th?”
“Tessa is on her leave.”
“Shit. I forgot.” Liam raked his hair with his fingers. “Do you think Aaron has someone to spare?”
“You’re being funny, Liam. You want to call in the 28th for a simple red alert?”
“The rules are clear. I shouldn’t be anywhere near the 20th century.”
“Then call the Sentinels.” Florence’s voice rang with annoyance. “After Egypt we’re all fucked, Liam. Don’t be a baby. Just do your job.”
She hung up before he could react. Call the Sentinels… Sure. Because those guys could be just called.
Liam scoffed and shot a text to Esme to get ready, linking the alert with the next message.
Being the head of the 21st meant he only had one century’s worth of agents to work with because of the technological explosion of the time. All the others after him had two, three, or even five centuries. Sure, they covered a wider time frame too, but still, his job sucked.
On his way to the departure wing, Liam read the mission details. Time Pirates stole Stalin’s battle plans.
“Simple red alert, my ass,” he muttered.
“And what a fine ass that is.” Esme joined him and gave him a smile. “Are you ready to pose as a Soviet soldier?” She eyed him for a moment. “Maybe dye your hair and wear contact lenses.”
Arriving at the lockers, Liam rolled his eyes as he entered his security code and request for outfits and equipment into the system. He was about to hit enter when the alert beeped with an update.
He smirked. “Or maybe my looks will be perfect.”
While he changed the request on the computer, Esme checked the changes too. The pirates were about to sell the plans to the Germans. At a fancy gala. Where else?
Esme chuckled. “Blond, tall, handsome, with sparkling blue eyes. You’ll be the stereotype embodied.”
“Don’t forget my fine ass.” Liam winked, and they headed towards the changing booth to get ready.
Going back in time less than a hundred years wasn’t forbidden only because of unseen personal consequences, but because of the closeness of historical events. Wearing a Nazi uniform even for the greater good felt wrong, but Liam buttoned the shirt, anyway. Of course, Esme had a lovely gown to wear instead of a straight jacket type of outfit. It didn’t matter how he adjusted the pants or the jacket; it was tight at one place or another.
He pulled at the shirt at his neck, wishing he could unbutton it, and asked, “Ready?”
“Can you look any stiffer?” She shook her head. “You act like a newbie.”
“I’m practicing my role.”
They placed their rings into the pillar at the exit, downloading the language, the etiquette, and subtle information of the time.
Putting the rings back on, the data uploaded to their minds, due to the magic and tech of the Sentinels.
The system blocked their departure, warning them about the time they were about to jump to, asking for confirmation. Liam typed in his security code and the pillar started the countdown.
He held his breath and closed his eyes, counting to five before he opened them again. Music filtered through the walls and they stood in a basement. His first breath was shallow, the sensation of time jumping burning his lungs, but his body adjusted with the next breath.
Liam looked at his watch. “We have ninety minutes.”
Silently, they made their way upstairs, and Liam peeked out the door before exiting to make sure no one saw them entering from inside the building.
In theory, they shouldn’t have an issue with spotting the Time Pirates, but they still needed to figure out where the exchange would go down and how to return the plans to Russia before the Soviets noticed it was missing.
But first things first, they needed to join the party.
(picture)
Years of training and the data from the ring made it easy for him to fit in. To salute the appropriate way, greet the women politely, and say exactly what he needed to say. But he couldn’t relate to the ideology, and keeping his facial expression at bay proved to be difficult. There was so much passion underneath the surface, bringing out his rage, that his fingers clenched into fists at his side.
Liam wanted to scream at these people, tell them that they were idiots, enjoying as the world burned around them. The more he had to socialize, the less he focused on the mission, and the harder it got for him to keep the venom out of his voice.
Did these people not see what they were doing? Millions of lives ruined. Billions suffering. And the aftermath… The Eastern Bloc. The Berlin Wall. The experiments. The Holocaust.
“Husband,” Esme touched his upper arm, “dance with me.”
Liam blinked his rage away, his focus snapping back to the mission.
“Of course.” He bowed and led her to the dance floor.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. It’s just.” He sighed. “Personal.”
“Kilian?”
Liam nodded, scanning the crowd for Time Pirates or anything suspicious. He shouldn’t have checked it, but he couldn’t let it go. Kilian and his wife had been murdered by Nazi soldiers for hiding a family of six.
“I miss him too.”
He shouldn’t be here. The 20th century wasn’t his jurisdiction. And Kilian’s time alteration proved that even the 19th was tricky for them. Yet, he’d been sent here, and he couldn’t stop the events from unfolding. He had to let history happen.
Retrieve the map and go home. The mantra was on repeat in his head. Then he’d take his leave and forget this mission ever happened.
“There,” he said and turned so Esme could see the man at the alcove. “Short, redhead, wearing a Rolex.”
“That’s a watcher.” She tilted her head, acting like she was gazing into his eyes, but she watched the stairs from her peripheral vision. “Two more in the shadows up there.”
They turned again, and Liam spotted them, too. Even though the pirates had proper outfits, they didn’t bother with details. A tattoo on the neck, an earring, or an out-of-place accessory usually gave them away. Not to mention weaponry from the future. Which they had too, but they were disguised.
Two men walked up the stairs in deep conversation, one a German general, the other a man in a tuxedo.
“The layout?” he asked.
Esme rolled her eyes. “It’s so much fun to time travel with you.” She sighed. “Just follow my lead.”
Liam gave her a small shrug as they joined the crowd near the stairs. He had the blueprints of the building downloaded, too, but those lines, numbers, and signs only made his head hurt. He was lucky if he found the exit. Anything more required too much concentration and usually several failed tries before he got it right. One of his weaknesses, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.
For three more minutes, they socialized and this time, Liam was distracted enough with the guards that he didn’t want to punch every Nazi soldier he interacted with.
Esme, forever the actress, touched her cheek, then fanned herself, taking deep breaths and exhaling loudly.
“The champagne,” she said. “I feel unsteady on my legs and a little dizzy.”
Liam looked at her with concern. “Let’s find you a room, my love.”
Wrapping an arm around her waist to give her support, they made their way upstairs, away from the gala.
Heavy carpet covered the floor; the decorative tables, statues, and alcoves gave plenty of hiding places for them to sneak up on the pirates. Sadly, it was a good hiding place for them, too.
They entered a room, acting like Esme was in need of a rest in case they were watched.
It was an office of sorts, with a sofa at the wall. If they were after any other information, Liam wouldn’t hesitate to scan the drawers, but they only needed the battle plans.
After making sure the room was empty, he turned to Esme. “I counted ten guards downstairs. Three on the way here, plus the soldiers on duty. That makes twenty men so far.”
Esme nodded. “If I’m not mistaken, which we both know I rarely am, then the general’s office is on the third floor, south wing, fourth door on the right.”
Liam raised his eyebrows. “And how do you want to get there?”
“Old buildings like this are filled with secret passages. One of them leads to the General’s office. Probably to provide a secret escape. We’ll use that and, well, the main stairs.”
Esme pulled up a holographic map and showed him exactly where the passages were and where he needed to exit.
“The main stairs?” Liam sighed and checked his gun. It was loaded with tranquilizer so they wouldn’t kill anyone they weren’t supposed to. “The usual dance?”
Esme nodded and gestured for him to leave the room. Maybe she was better with the blueprints, but Liam had the better aim, and he was light on his feet.
As far as he could, he walked like a man who belonged there. Only when he reached the third floor, he stopped and turned to shoot the guards from behind, clearing the path to Esme.
Once the first soldier dropped unconscious, they had ten minutes to get out of here with the plans.
Without waiting, he headed towards the servant passage, hoping that it wasn’t guarded.
It wasn’t, but the moment the door closed behind him, it was pitch dark. The dim light filtering through the other doors was only enough for Liam to know where the passage went, but not enough to see.
Losing precious moments of surprise because he was blinded by the lights wasn’t something he was looking forward to, but this was safer than crossing the corridors.
He closed his eyes and placed his palm on the cold, raw wall next to him. As he relied on his other senses, his hearing sharpened and his skin tingled.
When a door opened and closed behind him, he paused, his muscles tense, ready for action. The soft knocking of heels echoed in the tight space and Liam nodded. Esme had made it inside, too.
He counted the exits, counting the minutes as best as he could, and stopped at the sixth door, waiting for Esme to catch up.
Liam listened, trying to tune out the electric buzzing and figure out what was waiting for them on the other side. Male voices. Two for sure. Shifting fabric against fabric further away from the discussion. Footsteps from yet another person.
Although he couldn’t see her, he felt her presence.
A whispered, “Go,” was all he needed to spring into action.
With his gun ready, Liam burst from the hiding place, ducking and rolling to the side to avoid any attack directed his way while his eyes got used to the light.
Six men. Two Nazi soldiers, four Time Pirates. He fired a moment before Esme did and two of the pirates went down.
“Give me the plans.” The General reached for the papers.
Liam aimed at the General. When he pulled the trigger, one of the pirates fired their guns and a sharp pain erupted from his left arm. He missed his target, but with his injury, his aim wasn’t steady enough to try again.
Working with Esme was easy. He went right, she went left. The door burst open and four more men marched in.
Liam dodged, using one of the pirates as a shield before aiming again, hoping that his hand was steady enough to hit the target.
His training took over and adrenaline kicked in. He saw the room as a whole, but his focus was on his next target. Soldiers swarmed the room and chaos reached new heights.
“I got it!” Esme shouted.
“I’ll cover you.”
Liam reloaded his gun and busied the Nazis and the pirates in the room while Esme leaped for the hidden door.
After firing three more times, Liam holstered his gun and kicked at the soldier closest to him. He groaned when a fist landed in his injured arm, but spun away from the next attack.
Successfully fighting his way out of the room, he ran, using the main stairs, trying to recall the way to the basement without sprinting across the heart of the event. He was bloody, his uniform torn, and the last thing he needed was being in the middle of a room filled with soldiers.
He took a sharp turn left, jogged down on some side stairs, then turned left again.
The music became louder, and he cursed himself for taking the wrong turn.
Fast approaching steps echoed, and he hid in the shadows of an alcove, holding his breath, his hand on his weapon as soldiers and time pirates marched past him.
His vision blurred by pain but he managed to make his way to the basement.
“Took you long enough.” Esme signaled with her ring and took his hand.
The countdown started. Ten quiet beeps and they’d be out of here.
The door to the basement slammed open, and boots banged on the stairs.
Five more beeps.
Shadows moved on the wall. At least a dozen soldiers.
Two more beeps.
If they rounded the corner, their exit wouldn’t be successful.
Liam closed his eyes and, when the familiar swirl of time jumping washed over him, he let out a relieved sigh.
They did it. They were back at the Ministry.
“I’ll take care of this.” Esme lifted the map. “You go and take care of that wound.”
Liam nodded, finally taking the time to look at her. She had a split lip, and a small limp as she walked away, but he didn’t see blood. At least none of that was hers.
He trashed the ripped uniform, pulled on his own slacks and shirt, but carried his vest and suit jacket in his hand.
For once, he was glad for the cold metallic and white corridors. He survived yet another mission.
As he sat in the medical chair, a robotic arm working on his injury, he typed away on his tablet, ordering a cleaning crew to make sure the past was safe, and checked the alert.
It was marked as complete, with no damage to the timeline.
Liam leaned back and closed his eyes. He really needed that time off.