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W e arrived at headquarters. Jake’s mouth dropped open when he entered the landing area.

“I have no words.” His chest heaved as he expelled a long sigh. “Should I ask why you look like Sonny & Cher?”

“We didn’t have time to change,” Ace said.

“The wedding was a farce!” My adrenalin pumped so hard I couldn’t control myself. “It seemed legit, but when Mahlia was supposed to say I do…Caiyan vanished.”

Ace clapped a hand over my mouth. I shoved it aside. “For Pete’s sake, he knows we were at the wedding.” Or at least I assumed he would know, but the look on his face told a different story.

“Why were YOU at the wedding?” Jake’s voice boomed. He shot Ace a menacing look then halted. “Vanished?”

I nodded and followed with, “It’s not Ace’s fault. I can be annoyingly persuasive.”

“Is that so?” The air thickened with the sarcasm in Jake’s tone. “Call Marco back to base. I sent him to Wessex to find you.”

“Why?”

“Because you disappeared off the travel screen.”

I placed my hand to my key and summoned Marco back to base. “Pickles couldn’t see us in Long Island?”

“He wasn’t looking for you there. He can’t watch the entire world, past and present, at the same time. You shouldn’t have gone, Jen.”

“But, Caiyan disappeared.” I was almost giddy.

“My Intel reported in before you arrived,” Jake said. “I know McGregor split.”

Ace shifted toward Jake.

“Not exactly. He ditched all right. Left Mahlia standing at the altar,” Ace explained. “I don’t believe the Scot left on his own terms.”

“Sure, he did.” A wide smile spread across my lips. “Smoke and mirrors, just like Caiyan told me.”

“Her key jumped, or Pickles has lost his touch.” Jake ran a hand through his hair.

“The priest. He had to be Toecheese in disguise.” I bounced on my toes as I relayed my theory to Jake.

Ace and Jake considered for a moment.

“Toches. That little devil. I didn’t recognize ’im, but now that you’ve pointed out the obvious, I agree. The man has bloody scary talent.”

“Incoming,” one of the black suits holding court at the door to the hangar reported to Jake, and everyone took a step back toward the wall.

A rumble of a 700-horsepower motor and Marco’s vessel appeared on the landing pad next to mine. He hopped out and joined us.

“Holy macaroni, you guys appearing in a variety act?” Marco raised an eyebrow at our clothing. “I’d only just arrived in Wessex, where were you?”

I explained about the smoke, and how Caiyan and the priest disappeared, and Mahlia stood there looking all pissed. I was talking so fast my words were vomiting out of my mouth in a stuttering mess.

“You went to the wedding?” Marco demanded more than asked.

I bit my lower lip.

“Jesus Christ, can’t you do something with her?” Marco flailed his arms at Jake.

“What do you suggest? I need her to keep our world from caving in on itself.”

Yoo-hoo, stop talking like I’m not in the room.

“She’s going to end up dead if you don’t do something. Now she’s got Campy doing her dirty work.”

“Actually,” Ace started then stopped when the two men gave him an angry glare.

Jake moved to face off with Marco. “I can’t control her any better than you can!”

“Then for the love of God, fire her!”

Whoa. Did Marco just try to get me fired?

Jake placed a hand to his earpiece and held up a finger. His face darkened and a moment later he said, “We’ve got bigger fish to fry. Mortas jumped.”

“Let me guess, he went back to the Civil War?” Marco said.

The thick testosterone-filled sarcasm started to suffocate me. I sidestepped toward the exit.

Ace battled back into the conversation, and the three men argued vehemently over our impending destination.

I backed out of the hangar and headed toward the travel lab. Caiyan’s words “smoke and mirrors” resounded in my head and I hoped his disappearing act was part of the plan.

Al greeted me as I entered the lab. “You’ve changed your look.”

With all the fuss, I had forgotten I wore the dark wig and mustache. “I went to the wedding.”

Al’s eyebrows shot up.

Pickles sat at his workstation, hands moving frantically as he watched the travelers on his screens.

I offered a greeting, and he did a double take when he glanced my way. A few more clicks and he leaned back, stretched his long arms over his head. “Das good. Everyone has settled into da pattern nah.”

Al and I moved in front of the big screen centered in the room. Black and blue dots blinked back at us, signifying the brigands and the travelers.

“Where did Mahlia jump?” I asked him, praying my assumption of the jump wasn’t correct.

“Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and Mortas is on her tail.” He used the remote to zoom in on the location.

Damn, I knew it! “It’s not Mahlia. I saw her at the wedding after Caiyan disappeared. It’s Toecheese. He was wearing her key in Salem.”

“Dat makes sense.”

We turned toward Pickles. “I saw a fat, dark-haired man in my vision. I thought I’d eaten too much Callaloo. We’ll label as such.” Pickles cocked his head in my direction. “Did the brigand put on a few pounds?”

“He dressed as a priest and wore a fat suit. He vanished with Caiyan in the middle”—yes middle, my inner voice did a happy dance—“of the wedding.”

Jake, Ace, and Marco joined us as Pickles walked over to examine my getup.

“Ya look like a real man. Except, I would have put a bigger sock in da trousers. You want ta look authentic.”

“Not everyone has a big sock,” I said.

Pickles raised an eyebrow at Marco.

“Don’t look at me, man. She’s never seen my sock.”

All eyes moved to Jake, and Jake huffed. “Focus people. Where’s that bastard gone now?”

“Mortas is here,” Al used his pointer to indicate a blinking black dot. “Gettysburg, 1863.”

“Christ.”

“Kishin is here,” Al slapped the pointer against the map.

“Caiyan’s been dumped in the past,” I said. “He’s got to be with Toecheese.”

“I can’t see him, dat boy is no wearing da key.” Pickles rubbed his temples.

“It’s not possible, Toches isn’t a transporter,” Al said.

“He can carry. Remember when we were in Berlin. He found the transporter’s vessel, and I clobbered him right before he took off.” Marco shifted.

“He brought you back,” Jake said. “We didn’t consider that because we were so involved in trying to save you. I thought it was a fluke.”

“The Mafusos have two transporters,” Ace added.

The steady whirring of the computers echoed in the room as we stared at the screen. If Toches could transport, he was more valuable to Gian-Carlo than we suspected.

Jake’s cell rang and he tapped his earpiece to answer. “Yes sir, right away.”

“The general wants eyes on the ground. I’ve got no choice. I need someone who knows the people, the battles. My gut instinct tells me McGregor’s mission is not about his key, but something bigger.”

“Dude, I don’t know why you think the Scot isn’t in this for himself.” Marco stood hands on hips.

“Because I wouldn’t leave the woman I love for a damn key!”

The three of us stood slack-jawed.

“I’ll be fine. Look,” I said. “Mortas is here, by this building, a few miles from the town. That’s far away from the battlefields.”

“Jen, everywhere is a battlefield in Gettysburg,” Marco said.

“If I take Gertie, she can steer us away from the battlefields. She knows the area.”

Jake paused for a second.

“Are you mental?” Marco shouted at Jake. “You can’t let her take Gertie back to the Civil War. Let me go in alone, or with Ace.”

“No can do,” Ace said. “I’ve already been there.”

Jake turned to Al. “Give them the landing coordinates. Somewhere safe. I’ll get the money. Ace, pick up Gertie and meet us back here.”

“Wait,” I said. “What about the message on the sword?”

“We think the message on the sword read find the key at Gettysburg, First Texas, RW. First Texas is a Confederate regiment and RW possibly stands for Rose Woods, an area where the First Texas saw some action. It’s much too dangerous to land there.”

“But—” I started.

“No!” Jake turned and left before Marco or I could protest.

Ace shrugged and followed Jake.

I frowned at Marco. “Did you suggest Jake fire me?” I crossed my hands over my chest.

“I may have misspoken,” Marco mumbled.

Marco and I waited in the leather chairs facing the center screen. Pickles returned to his work area and Al followed. They did their best to find a secure landing area. After a few choice words between them, they agreed. Al motioned us over.

“The North and the South alternately captured this area many times, but there’s a good section of wooded flatland here.” Al scratched his bearded chin. “Based on the history books, the Union Army is in control now.”

“Good. We’ll be on the right team,” Marco said.

I scrunched my nose at him. “I’ll see if I can muster up a Yankee accent.”

Jake returned along with Ace and Gertie. Her prior enthusiasm to travel back to Gettysburg was knocked down a few notches, and she wrung her hands as Al explained the landing situation to her.

While Al pointed out the do’s and don’ts to Gertie, Jake gave me a few of his own. “Remember, steer clear of the Peach Orchard, the round tops, the wheat field, and most of all the area in front of Cemetery Ridge. If Mortas goes toward any of the battle areas, don’t follow. If the brigands kill someone, we’ll deal with the ramifications here in the present. Not there.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” I said.

“You studied all the research I gave you, right?” Jake asked me.

“I read most of it.”

“Jen.”

“I got caught up reading letters from the soldiers.”

“What letters?”

“Gertie brought home letters written by the soldiers to their loved ones.”

“They were heartbreaking,” Gertie said.

Jake frowned at me.

“But I know the generals, and the locations of the buildings.” I put an arm around Gertie’s shoulders. “And Gertie knows the rest.”

Jake pulled Gertie aside. “You don’t have to go.”

“Yes, I do,” she said. “Because the Mafusos could screw up my world, and I kind of like the one I’m living in.”

Jake grimaced, but agreed. “You’ll need a few vaccinations, typhoid, malaria, and yellow fever.”

I gave her an apologetic smile. All the WTF travelers had been vaccinated for more diseases that I cared to count.

Gertie agreed, and Ace escorted her to the infirmary.

Jake watched her go. He turned toward Marco and me. Worry lines creased his forehead.

“Jake don’t stress. I’ll have Marco for muscle.”

“I’ve been practicing with a rifled musket for weeks,” Marco said.

“You have?” I didn’t know Marco had taken any steps toward acknowledging our possible mission.

“Haven’t you?” He moved toward the travel screen, and Pickles showed him the last location Mortas landed and the dot indicating the location he now occupied. He was in a tavern on the outskirts of town, not too far from our designated landing spot.

The dot labeled as Toches blinked eerily close to the Trostle Farm, the headquarters of Union Major General Dan Sickles.

Jake handed each of us Confederate States and Union currency conveniently folded into tiny plastic packages. “Put each bill on the sides of your cheeks. In case you get captured and you need a bargaining tool, or you cross the line.”

The Confederate money was useless unless we mingled with the Rebels or traveled south.

“Under no circumstances are you to land anywhere near the Trostle Farm,” Jake said to me.

“Jen’s got this,” Gertie piped up, and I thanked her with a nod.

“Time to go.” Al placed his hand on my shoulder.

I gave Pickles and Al a finger wave as we headed out. The five of us walked silently down the hall. The shuffle of feet on tile changed to cement as we entered the empty hangar.

“Jennifer drives.” Jake broke the quiet.

“Awe, c’mon,” Marco objected.

“Her vessel will blend.”

“I’m going to need a drink if I have to ride in your hooptie,” Marco said to me.

Ace called after us on our way to my vessel. “Doll, the next drink you’ll take will be from a rusty canteen.”