CHAPTER 22

2001, New York

‘He must have blabbed about nine-eleven,’ said Maddy. ‘He must have said something about the Twin Towers being blown to pieces when he was arrested last night.’ She looked at the others, pointed to one of the computer screens. ‘He saw it all on there, didn’t he?’

‘It is logical that with foreknowledge of the event the authorities will think he is involved,’ said Becks.

‘Exactly! I remember when nine-eleven happened there were arrests going on all over the country, you know? Like within hours of it all happening! If the FBI have just whistled him away somewhere in the back of a van, then they must believe he’s some terrorist. That he’s involved in nine-eleven somehow.’

‘But … if he is also telling them he’s Abraham Lincoln,’ said Sal, ‘maybe they will just think he’s a total crazy and let him go.’

‘Information: this is an altered timeline,’ said Bob.

Maddy nodded. ‘Exactly, Bob’s right. It’s a timeline — remember — where there was no famous Abraham Lincoln. He can tell them till he’s blue in the face that he’s The Abraham Lincoln. It won’t mean a frikkin’ thing to anyone!’

She got up from her armchair and paced up and down the length of the kitchen table. ‘We’ve got to work out where they’re taking him and snatch him back before we get another wave coming along. The next change could be a big one. We need to find him quickly.’

‘What’s the FBI?’ asked Liam.

‘Federal Bureau of Investigation,’ said Maddy. ‘Special police, if you like. They investigate terrorists and criminals. In fact, they’re like extra-special police.’

‘Like Scotland Yard?’

Maddy shrugged. ‘I guess.’

Liam nodded. ‘All right, then … and do they have a place they work from? Like us, like our archway? A base?’

‘Washington DC, I think,’ replied Maddy quickly. ‘That’s the FBI headquarters if I remember The X Files correctly.’

The X …?’

‘An old TV show — it’s not important,’ she replied. ‘Look, that’s got to be where they’ll have taken him. That’s what happened in the aftermath of nine-eleven. I remember reading about the FBI rounding up every suspicious-looking character they could and processing them and the FBI holding them until the camp at Guantanamo Bay was up and running a few months later and ready to take them.’

She turned to Becks. ‘Can you get computer-Bob to put together a data package on the FBI, their HQ … layout, location, that kind of thing? Also any information on the suspects rounded up after nine-eleven — where precisely they were held?’

‘Yes, Maddy.’

She turned to the others. ‘It doesn’t seem like we’ve got a lot of choice. I can’t think of anything else we can do. We need to make our way down to the FBI’s HQ and …’ She looked up at Bob. ‘And if worst comes to worst, Bob, you’re going to have to do your one-man-army thing and bust him out for us.’

‘That will require extreme violence,’ said Bob. ‘I will need more weapons.’

Maddy nodded. ‘Oh, you can be sure of that. This is going to get messy.’

‘Where did you say this FBI place was?’ asked Liam.

‘Washington. You’ve already done that journey, Liam. Remember?’

Liam frowned for a moment, then recalled. ‘Aye.’ He and Bob had travelled by truck from Washington to New York through a very different America back in 1956. An America overrun by an occupation army of Nazis.

‘We’re going to need a car, then,’ said Sal.

‘A car … and some big guns for Bob.’ Liam glanced up at the support unit and grinned. ‘He does like rather big guns.’

‘Affirmative.’

Maddy planted her hands on the table. ‘And we need to get going soon … I mean, like, in the next hour.’

‘Who’s going?’ asked Sal. ‘We can’t all go, can we? Doesn’t someone have to stay here?’

Maddy nodded. Sal was quite right. Somebody needed to stay right here to coordinate the opening of a return window.

‘Well, obviously you need to stay, Mads,’ said Liam. ‘We need you here to organize it all. Me, Bob and Becks can do this. The pair of ’em are an army between them, more than a match for anyone, so they are.’

‘Let me come with you,’ said Sal.

Liam shook his head. ‘It’ll be dangerous. You’d be best staying here.’

‘I’m always here! I’m always safe — I never get to do anything!’ She turned to Maddy, looking to her for support. ‘This time, please … let me do something more than just watching for things!’

‘Liam’s right … There may be shots fired if they have to — ’

‘I should be dead anyway, right?’ said Sal. ‘All of us should be! I should have been burned to death in Mumbai with my family. But I’m here now. So … every day is an extra. Every day is bonus time. And what’s the point if all I ever do is sit here and do nothing useful?’

‘You are useful, Sal. You’re very useful. You’re our early warning system!’ said Maddy.

‘I want to do more!’ Sal folded her arms. ‘I need to do more.’

Maddy gazed down at the wooden table in silence, glanced at the time on her wristwatch. It was gone twelve o’clock. Throughout today things across America were going to happen quickly. Right now, somewhere amid the panicking corridors of power, a FEMA-directed order was being issued to suspend all aeroplane flights across the entire nation. President Bush was in Airforce One in a holding pattern escorted by two F16 fighters. The Pentagon was on fire. Vice President Dick Cheney was sitting out the unfolding crisis in the Presidential Emergency Operating Center in the basement of the White House.

And Abraham Lincoln was — if Sal was right, if she had seen him in the back of that black van — undoubtedly being taken down to the FBI’s headquarters in Washington to be interrogated. He was probably already on the interstate, heading south through New Jersey.

‘OK …’ she said presently, ‘OK, this is what we’re doing. No need to drive down there. We’re going to open a window down there, right now, right outside the entrance to the FBI’s place. Not a time jump … just a location jump.’

She looked across the archway towards the computer desk. Becks was standing beside it, motionless and engaged in a silent Bluetooth conversation with computer-Bob. ‘Just as soon as we’ve got information on the layout and some coordinates we can use.’ She turned back to look at the others.

‘Liam … you and Bob and, OK, you too, Sal, you’re going down there and can watch the traffic going in. If you spot him, if you actually see this black van and Lincoln gawping out of the back window and think there’s an opportunity to snatch him … then you just go for it, OK?’

The three of them nodded.

‘Meanwhile, me and Becks and computer-Bob, we need to pool data. We need to get every piece of information we can on how all the terror suspects were moved around in the first week after today: where they’re being held, how they’re moved … so on and so on.’ She shrugged. ‘If you guys miss him, then we’re going to need to build up a picture of where all the terror suspects are being held during today. If we lose him, if we let the trail grow too cold, we may never find him again. I hate to think where that’s going to take us. I suspect we’re lucky that history’s only tweaked itself so far.’ She pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose noisily.

‘Sheesh … and God knows how long that’s going to last.’

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