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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: History / Historical
- Published: 01/22/2025
Globetrotters
Born 1945, M, from Farmersburg, United States.jpeg)
Betty Tucker materialized in the alley behind the bank. Frist just a shadow. Slowly, she came into being. She checked her purse. Just one item. The .38 provided by the organization. Enough ammunition to reload. She wouldn’t have time. They would kill her if it took over six shots to stop the Moiso brothers.
Her clothing was appropriate for the time. Betty’s dress would be fashionable then. July 7 1933. She took a minute to breathe in the quiet summer morning air to calm her nerves. The small town of Alora, Indiana. Just a bump in the road, but it had a small out of the way bank. She glanced at the clock on top of the courthouse. 9:25. She had 35 minutes to convince John Franks president of the bank the threat was real.
The Moiso brothers were going to rob his bank. History said they would arrive at 10 AM on July 7, 1933.Their method was simple. Take what you could. Then kill everyone in the bank. Checking her smith and Wesson, she took a deep breath. Gerry’s last words came to mind. “Betty, don’t take any chances. If you feel you’re in danger. We’ll try again later.” Betty wouldn’t let that happen. Today was her day.
She strolled into the bank and smiled at the teller. The other teller was out sick. A guy by the name of Ben. John Franks was in his office with the door open. “I would like to speak to Mr. Franks.” Upon hearing his name, Franks stood up and moved to the door of his office. “Can I help you, miss?”
“Yes, I’d like to speak to you for a minute if I could please.” Betty gave him her best smile. An attractive woman of 29 very few men turned her down.
“Yes, of course.” She entered his office and took the guest chair he indicated. “Now Miss, what can I do for you?”
“I assume you have heard of the Moiso brothers?” Betty said, removing a map from her bag. She rose and lay it on his desk.
“Yes, of course. They are a plague to every bank in the state.” Franks said rising. He looked at the map.
“And what makes you think they will try to rob this bank?” John Franks said smiling. “We are just a small-town bank. We handle very little money.”
Betty smiled. “That is precisely why I’m here. Look at this.”
She lay the map on the president’s desk. “The Moiso brothers are cutting a wide swing through the state. They target small town banks. They arrive at 10 AM and order everyone down on the floor. Except for the teller. Before they leave the bank, they kill everyone inside.”
“And you want me to replace Mrs. Martain with you?” John said, looking at the grandfather clock. It was now 9:45. You’re putting yourself in a very dangerous position.”
Betty smiled. “I’m trained for this and I’ve been there before.”
“Yes, I’m sure you have. Ok Miss Tucker, let’s do this and pray you’re wrong.” He pushed himself out of the chair. Going to the door, he opened it and called. “Mrs. Martain, would you come in here, please?”
Finishing up a transaction, she hurried to the office. Betty stood up to greet the teller.
“Is there something wrong, sir?” She said nervously.
Laying his hand on Ruth Martin’s back, John said. “Mrs. Martain, this is Betty Tucker. Miss Tucker believes two men will try to rob us. She is going to take your place for the next hour.”
“Oh, my,” Ruth said, covering her mouth. She looked from John to Betty.
Betty smiled at Ruth. “Don’t worry. I’ve been in many shootouts before.” Leaving Ruth in the president’s office, Betty took her place behind the counter. She put her .38 in the cash drawer. At 10:02, Betty saw the Moiso brothers through the plate-glass window. Both wore long coats inappropriate for this warm morning. Long enough to hide their Tommy guns.
She looked at John, who stood beside her. “Here we go.” She said through clenched teeth. The room suddenly seemed too warm. Franks sweated. His hands trembled. The two men entered the bank waving Tommy guns in the air. Betty stood stock still.
“Alright, everybody, get down on the floor.” The taller one shouted. The two farmers and their wives dropped. Betty got down. The older one smiled at her. “Not you, sweetheart. Just give me everything you have in the cash drawer and hurry it up.” He turned to his brother. “Check their pockets.” He pointed to the two farmers.
With her left hand on the counter, Betty reached for the pistol, cocking the hammer. The weeping of the women should cover the sound of the hammer. His brother leaned over and roughly shoved his hand in one farmer pocket. Triumphantly, he held up a wad of bills.
“Please, mister, I gotta buy food with that.” The farmer said, lifting his head.
“You ain’t gonna need no food.” The shorter one said, laughing. He held the gun against the back of the man’s head. Seeing death coming for her husband, his wife’s sobbing increased. Betty had one chance and one only.
Laughing, the taller one turned back to Betty, putting the seed sack on the counter. “Alright sweetheart, just put…”
Betty shot him in his open mouth. Startled, his brother brought his gun up from the farmer’s neck. He was not quick enough. Betty shot him in the left eye. He staggered backward, his finger still on the trigger of the Tommy gun. His spray of bullets hitting the floor. He tried to bring the rifle up again. Betty shot him for the second time.
Running out from behind the counter, Betty sprinted to the front of the bank. Throwing open the door, she aimed at the driver of the getaway car. Phil never had a chance. Seeing Betty pointing the .38 at him, He tried to shove the car into gear. Betty put two bullets into his chest. A third shot to his head. The car drifted into a light pole, bending the front fender.
Only then did Betty relax and laid the pistol on the floor. She faded. Within 30 seconds, she was gone. Franks picked up the pistol. Frank, Ruth, and the other patrons of the bank had no memory of Betty. As far as they were concerned, John Franks had stopped the robbery.
Betty materialized in her office. Slowly, she filled in. Leaning back in her desk chair, she gazed out the window. She had just changed history. Well, maybe just a small portion of it.
The drone of a lawn mower filled the air. Leaning forward, she checked the date and time on her computer. 10:20 August 26, 2030. Another bank saved. It could have had a different outcome. If the Morris boys had been just a little faster. Would the transport have worked if they wounded or killed her? What if her husband or son found her dead body setting in her chair? Raising she unlocked the door to her office. The only other key was on the ring Gray carried in his pocket.
Returning to her desk, she checked the Jonestone bank on the internet. She smiled. They were still one of the best banks and had spread to 3 other surrounding states. Her cell phone rang. She knew who it was. Hitting a button, she said.
“Hi Gerry.” Betty said, smiling.
She could almost see him breathing a sigh of relief. He laughed. “I don’t know which is more stressful. Being in the action or running the operation from here. Any problems?”
“No. They showed up right on time, just like we figured. It all went down just the way we planned.” Betty said.” I made sure they were dead before I left.”
“Ok. Look, I’ve got another assignment for you, but it can wait a week.”
“Great, just let me know. Have a good day, Gerry.”
“Take care Betty.” Betty clicked off and lay her cell phone on the desk. This was her fifth assignment this year. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands.
One involved Dillinger and almost cost her, her life. One good thing about time travel is nobody remembered you. You didn’t exist. John Franks would receive all the credit for stopping the bank robbery. Some operatives went back as far as the 1800s. They almost lost one who tried to stop Jesse James from robbing a train. He saved the train but got shot. He didn’t work alone, but had a partner who brought him home. Medical was waiting to save his life. Unnecessary. The bullet had disappeared, and the wound closed. However, it shook him up. A little closer to the heart and it would have been fatal. He quit soon after. Too much risk.
Betty finished her report and emailed it to Gerry.
A week later, Gerry phoned. “Betty, can you come into the office this afternoon. I want to discuss your next assignment.”
“Sure Gerry. What time did you have in mind?” Betty asks smiling. Normally Gerry just emailed her his request. If she turned it down, he went to the next operative on the list. “Something wrong?”
“Nope. How about 2 o’clock? ”
“Ok, see you then.”
Gerry was quite the entrepreneur. He started the business in his parents’ garage. Just his laptop computer and an idea. He named it Globetrotter. He endured all the jeers and laugher. “You can’t change history. Time travel ? Who ever heard of such nonsense you’re wasting your time.” Gerry didn’t listen. He quietly built the company.
In two years, he moved from the garage to a rented house. He soon outgrew the home and three years ago build a four-story office building. The concept being he and his team could travel anywhere back in time and change history. Betty had known Gerry in high school. She loved living in the country. However, sometimes it became in inconvenient. When she and her husband build the home, they chose the location for isolation and convenience. When the house was done, Gerry came in and installed the transporter. Operated by the desktop and ran from the office of Globetrotter it was a secret she and her husband kept. To her 7-year-old son, her office was where she was writing a book. The office had collapsible walls and was reinforced with steel.
“You want desk,desk he repeated. “I want you to kill John Wilks Booth before he can assassinate Abraham Lincoln.”
“How?” Betty said. “I mean Gerry. To stop the murder of a president would change the world. I’m all in favor of it, but how?”
“Are you still against killing children?” Gerry said.
“Yes.” Betty said without hesitation.
“Then you will have to deal with John Wilkes Booth as an adult. He was 26 when he died. You could go back to 1861 and murder him.” Gerry said going around he set down behind his desk. “Look Betty, it would be so much easier to break his neck as a toddler.”
“I know.” Betty said, looking down. “But if I did, I couldn’t live with myself.”
“You know what he will become if he’s allowed to grow up.” Gerry said. Spreading his hands.
“Give me some time.” Betty said, getting to her feet. “How long will I be gone?”
“ It all depends on the situation. Possibly just a few hours. I could have you pop into the kitchen for snacks and be back before the commercial is over. Betty, I’ve been working on this since high school. We have a chance to change history.”
Betty laughed. “Gerry, you’ve already changed history.”
Gerry smiled. “True. But we have changed history in small places very few know of. If we are able to save Lincoln, we will alter the nature of the entire world.”
“But that’s the point. If we change the past too much.” She spread her hands. “Next you’ll want me to kill Hitler.”
“Gerry just looked at her. “What? You have got to be kidding.”
“Think of Lincoln as a trial run.” Gerry said.
“Has your board of directors approved this?” Betty said.
“Betty, you have a 7-year-old son. And I’m sure you love him and would do anything for him? Right?”
“Yes.” Betty said hesitantly.
“Let’s say we could look into the future and knew without the shadow of doubt a man was going to murder him at nineteen. And let’s say you had the power to change that. What would you do?”
“I would kill him before he could murder my son.”
“Mary Todd Lincoln was seated next to her husband expecting a relaxing night of entertainment. Instead, her evening turned into a night of horror and days of agony. We have a chance to change that.” Gerry said, looking at her intently.
“And if I fail?”
“We bring you home and try again later. Look, think about it for a while. We are in no hurry.”
“And if I’m killed?” Betty said mildly, considering it.
“We’ll take every precaution that it doesn’t happen. “Gerry said.
“Let me talk to Gray,” Betty said, rising. “I’ll get back to you.”
“Let me know.” Gerry said, raising to his feet.
Leaving the structure, Betty entered her car. She set for a few minutes just thinking of what Gerry said. Was it written in history? Could she change it? What if they changed the past to much? Gray was employed as a computer programmer. He made a good salary. Betty’s income from Globetrotter afforded them to build a new home with five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a 4-vehicle garage and several acres. They had several hundreds of thousands in CDs. In her assignments this year alone, she had earned over two hundred thousand. The assignment to stop Booth would bring in two hundred thousand. She was a top facilitator with Globetrotter. She started the engine and drove to the security checkpoint. Morty, the officer on duty, smiled at her.
“How’s that fine family of yours?” He said, checking her ID on his phone.
Betty smiled. “Great Mort. Your family doing, ok?”
“Yeah, my little boy is excited about kindergarten.” He smiled. “Nothing would do but we had to drive by the school the other day.”
Betty laughed. “He’ll get there soon enough.”
“Have a good day, Betty.” Mort said, stepping back and raising the gate.
“You too.” Betty said.
At their home, Betty put the car in the garage. The sky looked like rain. They didn’t need the money. They paid for the house and cars. They could live on Gray’s salary. Yet the one thing that motivated Betty was a crying child and a grieving widow. How would she manage the loss of her husband and son? What if, while she was at a movie, someone murdered Gray within arm’s reach of her? What if they were holding hands?
That night, reading her son a bedtime story, Betty became distracted. How would she feel if Gray were shot while sitting beside her? How would she go on with life? How would it affect her? If she could prevent it, would she? Of course. There was no question about that.
“Mommy, you read the same sentence three times already.” Jason said. He looked at her. The covers were up to his chin.
“Sorry.” She said, going back to the story. She ended it like she always did at the end of a book. “And they lived happily ever after.” She leaned over and kissed her sleepy son. Leaving the bedside lamp glowing, she went out into the hallway.
Downstairs she rejoined her husband. The TV was on mute and Gray was reading the paper. “Gerry has a new assignment for me.” She said setting down beside him on the couch.
Gray folded the paper. “Honey, I worry about you on these assignments. I’m afraid one of these days you’re going to get all shot up.’” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to lose my wife.”
“I know. “She stood up and moved around in front of the TV. “He wants me to kill John Wilks Booth before he can murder Lincoln.” She said simply.
He stared at her, openmouthed. “You have got to be kidding me. No, please. Lincoln is dead, has been for a long time. No, it’s too dangerous.” He stood up went to her and took her in his arms. “Please, just tell Gerry no. He’ll find someone else.”
“I’m sure he will. But just think about it, honey. We have a chance to change history.” Betty said.
“You’ve already changed history.”
“Yes, in small ways. But this will change one of the greatest tragedies of the world. Nothing will ever be the same.
Betty let it rest and didn’t say more about the assignment. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking of it. She lay awake that night wondering what would happen if Lincoln would have lived out his second term in office. Gray perused the internet checking out Lincoln’s life and accomplishments. On the third night, he set Betty down. She had just come from their son’s bedroom.
“Did you know Robert Lincoln was 21 when his father died? And Lincoln’s youngest son was 12,” He said, setting her down on the couch. “He went on to a life of service. His father was a great man. Only God knows how many more Lincoln would have influenced if he had lived.”
Betty smiled. “Yes, I know.”
“Promise me one thing. If there is any, and I mean any, danger of you dying back there, abort the operation.”
“I love you And I love our son,” Betty said, kissing him. “If I can’t complete the mission or if I get in danger, Gerry will pull me back.”
“I’m sure he will. I just pray he’s not too late.” Gray said, kissing her.
The next morning, she thought of the exchange between her and her husband. Gray had left for work and their son to school. She set at her desk looking out the window at the backyard. They had a comfortable life. No surprises, no hick ups. Would her going into the past change that? What if she was wounded or killed? How would history change if Lincoln were allowed to live? Did she really want to do this? She knew Mary Lincoln would give her life for her husband.
Picking up her cell phone, she pushed the button for Gerry. “Morning Betty. Ready for a new assignment?”
Betty took a deep breath. “Has anyone assigned someone to Lincoln?””
Gerry hesitated. “No, I kinda put it on hold.”
“I’ll do it.” Betty said with a big rush of breath.
Gerry said nothing for a few seconds. “Look Betty, I’ve changed my mind. This is too dangerous. I know you’ve taken some tough assignments in the past. But we are talking about changing the course of our country.”
“I know.” Betty said in a quiet, small voice. “I did what you said. I put myself in his wife’s and his son’s shoes. How would I feel if Gray was murdered? If I could go back in history and prevent my husband’s death, would I? In a heartbeat.”
Gerry was silent for a minute. “Betty, you know the risk. If you are wounded or killed, we might not be able to pull you back. You might be stuck in the 1800s.”
“I know.” Betty said quietly, thinking of her husband and son.
“Betty, if we do this, it will be one of the greatest changes in history.” Gerry said cautiously. “I mean, just think what Lincoln will accomplish if allowed to finish out his second term in office.”
“I must admit, I was thinking of his wife and sons.” Betty said, tears misting her eyes.
“Betty are you sure you want to do this? If we fail…”
“Yes. I’m sure.” Betty whispered.
“Ok. Give me a week to double check everything. Next Tuesday at 10 AM. I’ll contact you between now and then. By.” Gerry said. He sighed as he ended the call. A thrill of excitement and dread raced through him.
The minute he ended the call, he began working on the aspect of the project. Years ago, he acquired the pistol nascency for the killing of Booth. Every part of Betty's part in history must be right or something could go wrong. A week later, he welcomed Betty into his office.
Knowing she wouldn’t, he made a last-ditch effort. “Betty, I wish you would reconsider. Killing Booth as a child. Would be so much easier.” Gerry said.
“Gerry, I couldn’t live with myself. Every time I looked at my child, I would see Booth’s face.” Betty said sadly.
“Ok. “Gerry set down behind his desk and rumbled through a shaft of papers. “You are best friends with Clara Harris and have been for years. Miss Harris is the fiancée of Major Henry Rathbone. Major Rathbone, as you may recall, was wounded by Booth.”
“Booth had a dagger.” Betty said.
“Yes, but if things go according to plan, he will not have a chance to use it.” Gerry lay a pistol on the desk. This is an1860’s Rimefire Revolver. It shoots.22 shorts.” He handed it to Betty. “Please become acquainted with it. It has very short range, but it could save your life.”
“Tiny, isn’t it?” Betty said, turning the small pistol around in her .
“Tiny and lethal. Keep in mind it only has a short range. If you can get close to Booth, say six feet or closer.” Gerry said. “Ok, for this assignment, your name is Mary Perpoint. Clara will invite you to accompany her and Major to the theater. Betty, please take every precaution. Booth is a very dangerous man. He will kill you if given a chance.”
“When do I leave?” Betty asked.
Go home, Betty. Take some time with your husband and son. Time is not important. When you’re ready, let me know. We’ll set up the transport.”
“Thanks Gerry. I’m going to walk around the grounds a little bit.”
“I’ll let security know.” Gerry said, picking up the office phone.”
Seated by the koi pond, Betty watched the fish. It was a beautiful, sunny day. A gentle breeze blew from the south. Birds sang in the trees. She loved her husband and son. How would her going back in time to change her? She threw food pellets into the koi pond. The scales on the fish flashed in the sun. She tried to forget she was a dealer of death.
She was chopping vegetables for salad when Gray came in from work. Jason was playing a game on his computer.
“So, tell me what’s going on?” Gray said, backed up against the counter. His hands were white, gripping the edge. Betty lay down the knife. She had been cutting a tomato for the salad.
Gerry wants me to spend some time with you and Jason. Taking her in his arms, Gray hugged her.
“Remember your first mission?” Gray said, looking her in the eyes.
Betty laughed. “How could I forget? I don’t know who was more frightened me or the little boy.”
“The parents found him wandering outside after you shot the kidnapper. They spend months looking for the other kidnapper who shot him.” Gray said.
“They thought they got into a fight.” Betty said.
“You not only saved the boy, but healed the separation between his parents.”
“If I can stop or kill Booth, how will it change the trajectory of the world?” Betty murmured against Gray’s breast.
Gray held her at arm’s length. “Honey, everything you’ve done has changed the world for the better. I have no doubt this assignment will be the same.”
Betty had trouble getting to sleep that night. She kept seeing Lincoln in his casket. Yet the vision was of him as an elderly man.
Two days later, Gerry called. “You leave tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. As I said, your name is Mary Perpoint. Clara will invite you to accompany her and the Major to Ford’s theater. She is very thrilled. You, of course, have caught her excitement. Please do not and I say again, do not take chances. Once Booth pulls the pistol, the bullet will go somewhere. Betty if something happens. If he kills Lincoln, we can try again. If he kills you, I’m not sure we will risk it.”
The next morning Betty set at her desk waiting. At five to nine her cell rang. She calmed her heart and answered it.
“Ready?” Gerry said, his voice tense. He had dreamed of this day since high school.
Betty swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes, all things are go on this end.”
“Ok. Clara will meet you just inside the entrance to the theater. You will chat about men friends. She will show you the engagement ring. All fiction all fabrication. If something happens and you become disabled, I’ll have a man in the audience bring you back. Good luck. Betty have a safe trip.”
“Thanks Gerry,” Betty said, laying her phone on her desk.
A tingling sensation spread through her body, causing her to sit bolt upright in anticipation. Betty watched as her hands disappeared. Then her arms. The darkness and chill were the first thing she noticed. People filled the theater. Yet the people were smiling excitedly. There seemed to be an air of celebration. She saw Clara and the major. They didn’t see her as yet. Under her breath, she said. ‘Ok Gerry, here we go.’ She raised her arm, waving at them. Clara’s face brightened. She waved her hand franticly at Betty. Turning, she said something to Major Rathbone. He looked in her direction and smiled. Together, they made their way through the crowd.
“Mary, I’m so glad you could join us tonight. I declare I believe all of Washington is celebrating our victory over the south. You know the major?” Clara said excitedly.
“Yes, of course. Thank you for inviting me.” Betty said.
“Your very welcome. I hope you enjoy the play.” The major said, kissing her gloved hand.
They moved through the theater, then up the stairs to the presidential box. All the time Clara was speaking about her engagement. Betty had been worried about holding up her end of the conversation. Clara seemed so excited just a few nods were sufficient. They settled in the box. Stagehands had moved one of the single chairs. It now set just to the right and back a little from Mary Todd’s chair. The play started. The Lincolns were late. Betty tried to calm her heart. She told herself it’s just one more assignment. But she didn’t believe it. Tonight, they would change history. The world would never be the same if Abraham Lincoln lived. Would Gerry try again if she were killed? With clammy hands, she fingered the small pistol in her purse. All action on the stage stopped. The band played.
The door to the Presidential box opened. Mary Lincoln entered, followed by her husband. The three in the box stood. The President smiled. “Sorry we’re late.”
“That fine Mr. President.” The major said.
Turning, Lincoln leaned over the box. He made a small speech and then set down. The four relaxed.
Betty tightened her grip on the pistol. In the next few minutes, someone would die. She prayed it wouldn’t be her. The play resumed.
“Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old gal; you sockdologizing old man-trap!”
Betty gasp. The door slowly opened. A hand appeared holding a muzzle loading pistol. Booth focused on the back of Lincoln’s head
“Stop.” Betty shouted, the rimfire pistol in her hand. Booth hand jerked discharging the weapon. The ball sailed harmlessly over Lincoln’s head. Booth reached for the dagger in his belt. Betty shot him in the head. The major was on his feet and coming fast. Betty had seconds to finish the assignment. She fired again, emptying the small pistol. Booth was down. Dead, she wasn’t sure. Lincoln on his feet turn to the ruckus behind him.
“He tried to shoot the president. He tried to shoot the president.” Betty heard Mary Lincoln shout.
Betty faded. She lay the pistol on her chair. Screams came from the crowd. Betty traveled through time back to her office. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Not yet 10 o’clock. It had taken less than an hour. Her cell phone rang.
Rung out physically and mentally. She pushed the button, answering the call. Gerry didn’t wait for her to answer. “You did it Betty. You did it. You changed history. I can’t believe it,” Gerry said excitedly.
Globetrotters(Darrell Case)
Betty Tucker materialized in the alley behind the bank. Frist just a shadow. Slowly, she came into being. She checked her purse. Just one item. The .38 provided by the organization. Enough ammunition to reload. She wouldn’t have time. They would kill her if it took over six shots to stop the Moiso brothers.
Her clothing was appropriate for the time. Betty’s dress would be fashionable then. July 7 1933. She took a minute to breathe in the quiet summer morning air to calm her nerves. The small town of Alora, Indiana. Just a bump in the road, but it had a small out of the way bank. She glanced at the clock on top of the courthouse. 9:25. She had 35 minutes to convince John Franks president of the bank the threat was real.
The Moiso brothers were going to rob his bank. History said they would arrive at 10 AM on July 7, 1933.Their method was simple. Take what you could. Then kill everyone in the bank. Checking her smith and Wesson, she took a deep breath. Gerry’s last words came to mind. “Betty, don’t take any chances. If you feel you’re in danger. We’ll try again later.” Betty wouldn’t let that happen. Today was her day.
She strolled into the bank and smiled at the teller. The other teller was out sick. A guy by the name of Ben. John Franks was in his office with the door open. “I would like to speak to Mr. Franks.” Upon hearing his name, Franks stood up and moved to the door of his office. “Can I help you, miss?”
“Yes, I’d like to speak to you for a minute if I could please.” Betty gave him her best smile. An attractive woman of 29 very few men turned her down.
“Yes, of course.” She entered his office and took the guest chair he indicated. “Now Miss, what can I do for you?”
“I assume you have heard of the Moiso brothers?” Betty said, removing a map from her bag. She rose and lay it on his desk.
“Yes, of course. They are a plague to every bank in the state.” Franks said rising. He looked at the map.
“And what makes you think they will try to rob this bank?” John Franks said smiling. “We are just a small-town bank. We handle very little money.”
Betty smiled. “That is precisely why I’m here. Look at this.”
She lay the map on the president’s desk. “The Moiso brothers are cutting a wide swing through the state. They target small town banks. They arrive at 10 AM and order everyone down on the floor. Except for the teller. Before they leave the bank, they kill everyone inside.”
“And you want me to replace Mrs. Martain with you?” John said, looking at the grandfather clock. It was now 9:45. You’re putting yourself in a very dangerous position.”
Betty smiled. “I’m trained for this and I’ve been there before.”
“Yes, I’m sure you have. Ok Miss Tucker, let’s do this and pray you’re wrong.” He pushed himself out of the chair. Going to the door, he opened it and called. “Mrs. Martain, would you come in here, please?”
Finishing up a transaction, she hurried to the office. Betty stood up to greet the teller.
“Is there something wrong, sir?” She said nervously.
Laying his hand on Ruth Martin’s back, John said. “Mrs. Martain, this is Betty Tucker. Miss Tucker believes two men will try to rob us. She is going to take your place for the next hour.”
“Oh, my,” Ruth said, covering her mouth. She looked from John to Betty.
Betty smiled at Ruth. “Don’t worry. I’ve been in many shootouts before.” Leaving Ruth in the president’s office, Betty took her place behind the counter. She put her .38 in the cash drawer. At 10:02, Betty saw the Moiso brothers through the plate-glass window. Both wore long coats inappropriate for this warm morning. Long enough to hide their Tommy guns.
She looked at John, who stood beside her. “Here we go.” She said through clenched teeth. The room suddenly seemed too warm. Franks sweated. His hands trembled. The two men entered the bank waving Tommy guns in the air. Betty stood stock still.
“Alright, everybody, get down on the floor.” The taller one shouted. The two farmers and their wives dropped. Betty got down. The older one smiled at her. “Not you, sweetheart. Just give me everything you have in the cash drawer and hurry it up.” He turned to his brother. “Check their pockets.” He pointed to the two farmers.
With her left hand on the counter, Betty reached for the pistol, cocking the hammer. The weeping of the women should cover the sound of the hammer. His brother leaned over and roughly shoved his hand in one farmer pocket. Triumphantly, he held up a wad of bills.
“Please, mister, I gotta buy food with that.” The farmer said, lifting his head.
“You ain’t gonna need no food.” The shorter one said, laughing. He held the gun against the back of the man’s head. Seeing death coming for her husband, his wife’s sobbing increased. Betty had one chance and one only.
Laughing, the taller one turned back to Betty, putting the seed sack on the counter. “Alright sweetheart, just put…”
Betty shot him in his open mouth. Startled, his brother brought his gun up from the farmer’s neck. He was not quick enough. Betty shot him in the left eye. He staggered backward, his finger still on the trigger of the Tommy gun. His spray of bullets hitting the floor. He tried to bring the rifle up again. Betty shot him for the second time.
Running out from behind the counter, Betty sprinted to the front of the bank. Throwing open the door, she aimed at the driver of the getaway car. Phil never had a chance. Seeing Betty pointing the .38 at him, He tried to shove the car into gear. Betty put two bullets into his chest. A third shot to his head. The car drifted into a light pole, bending the front fender.
Only then did Betty relax and laid the pistol on the floor. She faded. Within 30 seconds, she was gone. Franks picked up the pistol. Frank, Ruth, and the other patrons of the bank had no memory of Betty. As far as they were concerned, John Franks had stopped the robbery.
Betty materialized in her office. Slowly, she filled in. Leaning back in her desk chair, she gazed out the window. She had just changed history. Well, maybe just a small portion of it.
The drone of a lawn mower filled the air. Leaning forward, she checked the date and time on her computer. 10:20 August 26, 2030. Another bank saved. It could have had a different outcome. If the Morris boys had been just a little faster. Would the transport have worked if they wounded or killed her? What if her husband or son found her dead body setting in her chair? Raising she unlocked the door to her office. The only other key was on the ring Gray carried in his pocket.
Returning to her desk, she checked the Jonestone bank on the internet. She smiled. They were still one of the best banks and had spread to 3 other surrounding states. Her cell phone rang. She knew who it was. Hitting a button, she said.
“Hi Gerry.” Betty said, smiling.
She could almost see him breathing a sigh of relief. He laughed. “I don’t know which is more stressful. Being in the action or running the operation from here. Any problems?”
“No. They showed up right on time, just like we figured. It all went down just the way we planned.” Betty said.” I made sure they were dead before I left.”
“Ok. Look, I’ve got another assignment for you, but it can wait a week.”
“Great, just let me know. Have a good day, Gerry.”
“Take care Betty.” Betty clicked off and lay her cell phone on the desk. This was her fifth assignment this year. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands.
One involved Dillinger and almost cost her, her life. One good thing about time travel is nobody remembered you. You didn’t exist. John Franks would receive all the credit for stopping the bank robbery. Some operatives went back as far as the 1800s. They almost lost one who tried to stop Jesse James from robbing a train. He saved the train but got shot. He didn’t work alone, but had a partner who brought him home. Medical was waiting to save his life. Unnecessary. The bullet had disappeared, and the wound closed. However, it shook him up. A little closer to the heart and it would have been fatal. He quit soon after. Too much risk.
Betty finished her report and emailed it to Gerry.
A week later, Gerry phoned. “Betty, can you come into the office this afternoon. I want to discuss your next assignment.”
“Sure Gerry. What time did you have in mind?” Betty asks smiling. Normally Gerry just emailed her his request. If she turned it down, he went to the next operative on the list. “Something wrong?”
“Nope. How about 2 o’clock? ”
“Ok, see you then.”
Gerry was quite the entrepreneur. He started the business in his parents’ garage. Just his laptop computer and an idea. He named it Globetrotter. He endured all the jeers and laugher. “You can’t change history. Time travel ? Who ever heard of such nonsense you’re wasting your time.” Gerry didn’t listen. He quietly built the company.
In two years, he moved from the garage to a rented house. He soon outgrew the home and three years ago build a four-story office building. The concept being he and his team could travel anywhere back in time and change history. Betty had known Gerry in high school. She loved living in the country. However, sometimes it became in inconvenient. When she and her husband build the home, they chose the location for isolation and convenience. When the house was done, Gerry came in and installed the transporter. Operated by the desktop and ran from the office of Globetrotter it was a secret she and her husband kept. To her 7-year-old son, her office was where she was writing a book. The office had collapsible walls and was reinforced with steel.
“You want desk,desk he repeated. “I want you to kill John Wilks Booth before he can assassinate Abraham Lincoln.”
“How?” Betty said. “I mean Gerry. To stop the murder of a president would change the world. I’m all in favor of it, but how?”
“Are you still against killing children?” Gerry said.
“Yes.” Betty said without hesitation.
“Then you will have to deal with John Wilkes Booth as an adult. He was 26 when he died. You could go back to 1861 and murder him.” Gerry said going around he set down behind his desk. “Look Betty, it would be so much easier to break his neck as a toddler.”
“I know.” Betty said, looking down. “But if I did, I couldn’t live with myself.”
“You know what he will become if he’s allowed to grow up.” Gerry said. Spreading his hands.
“Give me some time.” Betty said, getting to her feet. “How long will I be gone?”
“ It all depends on the situation. Possibly just a few hours. I could have you pop into the kitchen for snacks and be back before the commercial is over. Betty, I’ve been working on this since high school. We have a chance to change history.”
Betty laughed. “Gerry, you’ve already changed history.”
Gerry smiled. “True. But we have changed history in small places very few know of. If we are able to save Lincoln, we will alter the nature of the entire world.”
“But that’s the point. If we change the past too much.” She spread her hands. “Next you’ll want me to kill Hitler.”
“Gerry just looked at her. “What? You have got to be kidding.”
“Think of Lincoln as a trial run.” Gerry said.
“Has your board of directors approved this?” Betty said.
“Betty, you have a 7-year-old son. And I’m sure you love him and would do anything for him? Right?”
“Yes.” Betty said hesitantly.
“Let’s say we could look into the future and knew without the shadow of doubt a man was going to murder him at nineteen. And let’s say you had the power to change that. What would you do?”
“I would kill him before he could murder my son.”
“Mary Todd Lincoln was seated next to her husband expecting a relaxing night of entertainment. Instead, her evening turned into a night of horror and days of agony. We have a chance to change that.” Gerry said, looking at her intently.
“And if I fail?”
“We bring you home and try again later. Look, think about it for a while. We are in no hurry.”
“And if I’m killed?” Betty said mildly, considering it.
“We’ll take every precaution that it doesn’t happen. “Gerry said.
“Let me talk to Gray,” Betty said, rising. “I’ll get back to you.”
“Let me know.” Gerry said, raising to his feet.
Leaving the structure, Betty entered her car. She set for a few minutes just thinking of what Gerry said. Was it written in history? Could she change it? What if they changed the past to much? Gray was employed as a computer programmer. He made a good salary. Betty’s income from Globetrotter afforded them to build a new home with five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a 4-vehicle garage and several acres. They had several hundreds of thousands in CDs. In her assignments this year alone, she had earned over two hundred thousand. The assignment to stop Booth would bring in two hundred thousand. She was a top facilitator with Globetrotter. She started the engine and drove to the security checkpoint. Morty, the officer on duty, smiled at her.
“How’s that fine family of yours?” He said, checking her ID on his phone.
Betty smiled. “Great Mort. Your family doing, ok?”
“Yeah, my little boy is excited about kindergarten.” He smiled. “Nothing would do but we had to drive by the school the other day.”
Betty laughed. “He’ll get there soon enough.”
“Have a good day, Betty.” Mort said, stepping back and raising the gate.
“You too.” Betty said.
At their home, Betty put the car in the garage. The sky looked like rain. They didn’t need the money. They paid for the house and cars. They could live on Gray’s salary. Yet the one thing that motivated Betty was a crying child and a grieving widow. How would she manage the loss of her husband and son? What if, while she was at a movie, someone murdered Gray within arm’s reach of her? What if they were holding hands?
That night, reading her son a bedtime story, Betty became distracted. How would she feel if Gray were shot while sitting beside her? How would she go on with life? How would it affect her? If she could prevent it, would she? Of course. There was no question about that.
“Mommy, you read the same sentence three times already.” Jason said. He looked at her. The covers were up to his chin.
“Sorry.” She said, going back to the story. She ended it like she always did at the end of a book. “And they lived happily ever after.” She leaned over and kissed her sleepy son. Leaving the bedside lamp glowing, she went out into the hallway.
Downstairs she rejoined her husband. The TV was on mute and Gray was reading the paper. “Gerry has a new assignment for me.” She said setting down beside him on the couch.
Gray folded the paper. “Honey, I worry about you on these assignments. I’m afraid one of these days you’re going to get all shot up.’” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to lose my wife.”
“I know. “She stood up and moved around in front of the TV. “He wants me to kill John Wilks Booth before he can murder Lincoln.” She said simply.
He stared at her, openmouthed. “You have got to be kidding me. No, please. Lincoln is dead, has been for a long time. No, it’s too dangerous.” He stood up went to her and took her in his arms. “Please, just tell Gerry no. He’ll find someone else.”
“I’m sure he will. But just think about it, honey. We have a chance to change history.” Betty said.
“You’ve already changed history.”
“Yes, in small ways. But this will change one of the greatest tragedies of the world. Nothing will ever be the same.
Betty let it rest and didn’t say more about the assignment. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking of it. She lay awake that night wondering what would happen if Lincoln would have lived out his second term in office. Gray perused the internet checking out Lincoln’s life and accomplishments. On the third night, he set Betty down. She had just come from their son’s bedroom.
“Did you know Robert Lincoln was 21 when his father died? And Lincoln’s youngest son was 12,” He said, setting her down on the couch. “He went on to a life of service. His father was a great man. Only God knows how many more Lincoln would have influenced if he had lived.”
Betty smiled. “Yes, I know.”
“Promise me one thing. If there is any, and I mean any, danger of you dying back there, abort the operation.”
“I love you And I love our son,” Betty said, kissing him. “If I can’t complete the mission or if I get in danger, Gerry will pull me back.”
“I’m sure he will. I just pray he’s not too late.” Gray said, kissing her.
The next morning, she thought of the exchange between her and her husband. Gray had left for work and their son to school. She set at her desk looking out the window at the backyard. They had a comfortable life. No surprises, no hick ups. Would her going into the past change that? What if she was wounded or killed? How would history change if Lincoln were allowed to live? Did she really want to do this? She knew Mary Lincoln would give her life for her husband.
Picking up her cell phone, she pushed the button for Gerry. “Morning Betty. Ready for a new assignment?”
Betty took a deep breath. “Has anyone assigned someone to Lincoln?””
Gerry hesitated. “No, I kinda put it on hold.”
“I’ll do it.” Betty said with a big rush of breath.
Gerry said nothing for a few seconds. “Look Betty, I’ve changed my mind. This is too dangerous. I know you’ve taken some tough assignments in the past. But we are talking about changing the course of our country.”
“I know.” Betty said in a quiet, small voice. “I did what you said. I put myself in his wife’s and his son’s shoes. How would I feel if Gray was murdered? If I could go back in history and prevent my husband’s death, would I? In a heartbeat.”
Gerry was silent for a minute. “Betty, you know the risk. If you are wounded or killed, we might not be able to pull you back. You might be stuck in the 1800s.”
“I know.” Betty said quietly, thinking of her husband and son.
“Betty, if we do this, it will be one of the greatest changes in history.” Gerry said cautiously. “I mean, just think what Lincoln will accomplish if allowed to finish out his second term in office.”
“I must admit, I was thinking of his wife and sons.” Betty said, tears misting her eyes.
“Betty are you sure you want to do this? If we fail…”
“Yes. I’m sure.” Betty whispered.
“Ok. Give me a week to double check everything. Next Tuesday at 10 AM. I’ll contact you between now and then. By.” Gerry said. He sighed as he ended the call. A thrill of excitement and dread raced through him.
The minute he ended the call, he began working on the aspect of the project. Years ago, he acquired the pistol nascency for the killing of Booth. Every part of Betty's part in history must be right or something could go wrong. A week later, he welcomed Betty into his office.
Knowing she wouldn’t, he made a last-ditch effort. “Betty, I wish you would reconsider. Killing Booth as a child. Would be so much easier.” Gerry said.
“Gerry, I couldn’t live with myself. Every time I looked at my child, I would see Booth’s face.” Betty said sadly.
“Ok. “Gerry set down behind his desk and rumbled through a shaft of papers. “You are best friends with Clara Harris and have been for years. Miss Harris is the fiancée of Major Henry Rathbone. Major Rathbone, as you may recall, was wounded by Booth.”
“Booth had a dagger.” Betty said.
“Yes, but if things go according to plan, he will not have a chance to use it.” Gerry lay a pistol on the desk. This is an1860’s Rimefire Revolver. It shoots.22 shorts.” He handed it to Betty. “Please become acquainted with it. It has very short range, but it could save your life.”
“Tiny, isn’t it?” Betty said, turning the small pistol around in her .
“Tiny and lethal. Keep in mind it only has a short range. If you can get close to Booth, say six feet or closer.” Gerry said. “Ok, for this assignment, your name is Mary Perpoint. Clara will invite you to accompany her and Major to the theater. Betty, please take every precaution. Booth is a very dangerous man. He will kill you if given a chance.”
“When do I leave?” Betty asked.
Go home, Betty. Take some time with your husband and son. Time is not important. When you’re ready, let me know. We’ll set up the transport.”
“Thanks Gerry. I’m going to walk around the grounds a little bit.”
“I’ll let security know.” Gerry said, picking up the office phone.”
Seated by the koi pond, Betty watched the fish. It was a beautiful, sunny day. A gentle breeze blew from the south. Birds sang in the trees. She loved her husband and son. How would her going back in time to change her? She threw food pellets into the koi pond. The scales on the fish flashed in the sun. She tried to forget she was a dealer of death.
She was chopping vegetables for salad when Gray came in from work. Jason was playing a game on his computer.
“So, tell me what’s going on?” Gray said, backed up against the counter. His hands were white, gripping the edge. Betty lay down the knife. She had been cutting a tomato for the salad.
Gerry wants me to spend some time with you and Jason. Taking her in his arms, Gray hugged her.
“Remember your first mission?” Gray said, looking her in the eyes.
Betty laughed. “How could I forget? I don’t know who was more frightened me or the little boy.”
“The parents found him wandering outside after you shot the kidnapper. They spend months looking for the other kidnapper who shot him.” Gray said.
“They thought they got into a fight.” Betty said.
“You not only saved the boy, but healed the separation between his parents.”
“If I can stop or kill Booth, how will it change the trajectory of the world?” Betty murmured against Gray’s breast.
Gray held her at arm’s length. “Honey, everything you’ve done has changed the world for the better. I have no doubt this assignment will be the same.”
Betty had trouble getting to sleep that night. She kept seeing Lincoln in his casket. Yet the vision was of him as an elderly man.
Two days later, Gerry called. “You leave tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. As I said, your name is Mary Perpoint. Clara will invite you to accompany her and the Major to Ford’s theater. She is very thrilled. You, of course, have caught her excitement. Please do not and I say again, do not take chances. Once Booth pulls the pistol, the bullet will go somewhere. Betty if something happens. If he kills Lincoln, we can try again. If he kills you, I’m not sure we will risk it.”
The next morning Betty set at her desk waiting. At five to nine her cell rang. She calmed her heart and answered it.
“Ready?” Gerry said, his voice tense. He had dreamed of this day since high school.
Betty swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes, all things are go on this end.”
“Ok. Clara will meet you just inside the entrance to the theater. You will chat about men friends. She will show you the engagement ring. All fiction all fabrication. If something happens and you become disabled, I’ll have a man in the audience bring you back. Good luck. Betty have a safe trip.”
“Thanks Gerry,” Betty said, laying her phone on her desk.
A tingling sensation spread through her body, causing her to sit bolt upright in anticipation. Betty watched as her hands disappeared. Then her arms. The darkness and chill were the first thing she noticed. People filled the theater. Yet the people were smiling excitedly. There seemed to be an air of celebration. She saw Clara and the major. They didn’t see her as yet. Under her breath, she said. ‘Ok Gerry, here we go.’ She raised her arm, waving at them. Clara’s face brightened. She waved her hand franticly at Betty. Turning, she said something to Major Rathbone. He looked in her direction and smiled. Together, they made their way through the crowd.
“Mary, I’m so glad you could join us tonight. I declare I believe all of Washington is celebrating our victory over the south. You know the major?” Clara said excitedly.
“Yes, of course. Thank you for inviting me.” Betty said.
“Your very welcome. I hope you enjoy the play.” The major said, kissing her gloved hand.
They moved through the theater, then up the stairs to the presidential box. All the time Clara was speaking about her engagement. Betty had been worried about holding up her end of the conversation. Clara seemed so excited just a few nods were sufficient. They settled in the box. Stagehands had moved one of the single chairs. It now set just to the right and back a little from Mary Todd’s chair. The play started. The Lincolns were late. Betty tried to calm her heart. She told herself it’s just one more assignment. But she didn’t believe it. Tonight, they would change history. The world would never be the same if Abraham Lincoln lived. Would Gerry try again if she were killed? With clammy hands, she fingered the small pistol in her purse. All action on the stage stopped. The band played.
The door to the Presidential box opened. Mary Lincoln entered, followed by her husband. The three in the box stood. The President smiled. “Sorry we’re late.”
“That fine Mr. President.” The major said.
Turning, Lincoln leaned over the box. He made a small speech and then set down. The four relaxed.
Betty tightened her grip on the pistol. In the next few minutes, someone would die. She prayed it wouldn’t be her. The play resumed.
“Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old gal; you sockdologizing old man-trap!”
Betty gasp. The door slowly opened. A hand appeared holding a muzzle loading pistol. Booth focused on the back of Lincoln’s head
“Stop.” Betty shouted, the rimfire pistol in her hand. Booth hand jerked discharging the weapon. The ball sailed harmlessly over Lincoln’s head. Booth reached for the dagger in his belt. Betty shot him in the head. The major was on his feet and coming fast. Betty had seconds to finish the assignment. She fired again, emptying the small pistol. Booth was down. Dead, she wasn’t sure. Lincoln on his feet turn to the ruckus behind him.
“He tried to shoot the president. He tried to shoot the president.” Betty heard Mary Lincoln shout.
Betty faded. She lay the pistol on her chair. Screams came from the crowd. Betty traveled through time back to her office. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Not yet 10 o’clock. It had taken less than an hour. Her cell phone rang.
Rung out physically and mentally. She pushed the button, answering the call. Gerry didn’t wait for her to answer. “You did it Betty. You did it. You changed history. I can’t believe it,” Gerry said excitedly.
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Denise Arnault
01/23/2025That was a very inventive story. I liked the detail that you put into explaining the process. There were a few editing problems but they did not detract from the story, i.e. Moise brothers were later described as Morris brothers. These are the kind of errors I catch when listening to my story being read by a screen reader before I publish.
If you do another along the same lines, I was wondering while I was reading, what if Betty decided that the change to history was too much, what would/could she do. I half expected that when she got back from this one, she would find that the change had made someone mentioned earlier in the story no longer exist.
A captivating story that I could not stop until done.
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