Spies Be Warned: Part Three

Sitting on the edge of your seat to find out what happened? Hope so! Here’s the conclusion to our story!

I recognized the voice. I knew it from somewhere...but were?

This was the least of my worries at the moment, though, for my captor began to drag me back. “I remember you,” he hissed in my ear.

I do too, but from where? I thought miserably. My heart pounded against my chest and I wished Trevor was here. Oh Trevor, where are you? This was bad. Really bad. Trevor wasn’t here and I was in unfamiliar territory in a time period I didn’t belong in. What if this guy really shot me?

“You’re that drummer boy who was with the Colonel,” my captor continued. “I remember when I ran into you your hat flew off, and you had braids. I thought perhaps I was mistaken, but no, I see I’m right. You are a girl! And you’ve come to chase me down, have you? You and that Colonel?”

The spy! That’s where I recognized the voice from. This was the same boy we were trying to find!

“Oww!” he yelped as I bit down hard on his hand. He let go for a quick instant.

I took this opportunity to yell at the top of my lungs, “Trevor! Help me!”

“Oh, no you don’t!” He roughly shoved me down and pushed my face into the dirt. “Don’t mess with me!”

Could it be? Did I detect...fear, uncertainty in his voice? He was acting like he’d kill me any second, but his voice didn’t coincide with his claims. Is he scared? I wondered.

“Now, get up slowly and don’t make one more sound,” he growled fiercely. “If you do I swear I’ll shoot you on the spot, even if you are a girl.”

Okay, so perhaps it's too early to make a good judgement at the moment, I decided. But let’s keep the door open for possibilities. Even if he is threatening to kill me.

I slowly stood up and complied with what he said. I didn’t know if he was bluffing or not, but it was best not take any chances. I knew better than that. And Trevor wasn’t here to help me.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

I did as he ordered and faced him. He held his gun steady and looked me in the eye. I returned his gaze. He was young, much too young to be a soldier in my eyes. His boyish face looked frightened, but he continued to scowl like he was confident of his situation.

He glanced me over and his look softened. “You’re really young,” he commented. He frowned and scratched his head. “What’s a young girl like you doing in the Union Army?”

“I could ask the same about you,” I replied. “And I must wonder why you’re a spy. You seem too young to be a spy.”

“No one suspects a seventeen-year-old,” he retorted. “That’s why they made me a spy.” he cocked his head a little. “You are after me, aren’t you? How many of them are there?”

My previous fear was beginning to fade away. There was something in his mannerisms, or perhaps it was because I could see in his eyes that he didn’t want to hurt me. I couldn’t lie to this boy. He was only six years older than me. “Only me and Trevor,” I admitted.

The boy stiffened. “Trevor? Is he the Irish Colonel?”

“Don’t ever let him catch you saying that, he’s Scottish.” I giggled. “But yes, he’s...he’s the one pretending he’s a Colonel.”

This really threw the boy for a loop. He lowered the gun in his hand and stared at me. “Pretending to be?” he repeated. “You mean he’s not-”

“He’s not a real Colonel,” I finished. What is wrong with you? This boy has stolen the plans for the battle of Gettysburg and you’re going to let him get away with it? Something told me to continue the way I was going, to let the conversation go on. I knew it was the Holy Spirit guiding me, so I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the small remnant of fear inside.

“Then how do you know I’m a Confederate spy and why are you after me?” the boy asked suspiciously, unconscious that he’d raised his weapon once more.

“Because we’re just that awesome!”

It happened so fast, I didn’t even realize it was Trevor until he’d gotten off the young spy with the gun in his hand. He’d tackled that kid like a pro, I’d thought for sure another Union officer had shown up.

“Trevor!” I cried, coming forward and hugging him. He continued to aim the gun at the boy and patted me on the head.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

The Confederate boy stared at Trevor in terror, his eyes wide as he clutched his chest.

“You threatened my daughter,” Trevor growled. “And I take that as a serious offense. You also stole some very important documents that we’re going to be needing back.”

“Trevor, he didn’t hurt me,” I objected, noting the dangerous look in his eyes. “We were starting to talk, it’s okay. He wasn’t going to hurt me.”

At this the kid grew a little offended. “How do you know that?” he snapped. “I could have shot you any time I liked.”

Not helping, I mouthed as Trevor glared at him.

“Look, guys,” I stepped between my adopted father and the young Confederate boy, “I’m sure we can solve this without the gun.” I turned to the boy and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Jimmy,” he muttered. “And yours?”

“I’m Marin and this is Trevor.” I gestured to my time traveling friend. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just want the papers back and you can go on your way.”

“What!” Trevor yelped. “But he’s a spy!”

I ignored him, knowing he’d come to see it from my point of view in a little while. “I promise, you can go back to the South and no one will catch you.”

Jimmy glanced at me and frowned. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” he sniffed. “This is my job, I have to do my job, or I dishonor my country.”

“Your country is the US of A, pal,” Trevor muttered. “Not some stupid South versus North argument. Don’t you get it? All of you are brothers!”

“You’re not making a lot of sense.” Jimmy glanced at Trevor. “You’re talkin’ like you know how everything is going to end.”

It was risky, I knew, but it might be worth a shot. “That’s because we do, Jimmy,” I said. “We’re time travelers.”

Trevor was silent. Jimmy’s mouth dropped open and he blinked a couple of times.

“I don’t think I heard you correctly,” he stammered. “What did you say?”

I smiled. “Trevor and I are time travelers. That’s why we must get those plans back.”

~oOo~

Back on our island, I was trying to teach our parrot Fruity-Toot to sing one of Leoš Janáček’s songs. “Come on, Fruity-Toot,” I coaxed. “Like this. Moje láska je na volném moři, k němu jsem se utéct, Odletět s větrem mé lásky, běh na břehu se se mnou setkat.”

At that second Trevor walked in, a huge electronic contraption in his arms and a smile to match. “Nice song, Marin,” he commented. He set down the device and wiped his brow. “Whew, this is heavy.”

“What is it?” I asked, forgetting about Fruity-Toot.

“A Lexicorphograph Laenin Factorial Composit Defunct,” he replied with a wild grin. “It’s really cool.”

“I’m never going to learn your language,” I teased.

“Yeah, well, I’m still having trouble learning you, period!” Trevor retorted. He leaned against his contraption and winked. “I’m still shocked how you got Jimmy to hand over the papers. It usually doesn’t work like that.”

I shrugged. “He seemed like a nice boy. And scared. I felt sorry for him, that’s all. I’m glad we were able to persuade him to help us.”

“After you put the fear of God in him about what would happen if America didn’t win the war.” Trevor chuckled. He walked over to me and gave me a friendly squeeze. “I must admit, I’m getting more and more impressed with your history knowledge, Marin. I can see you’re really trying to learn.”

I gave him a huge smile. For Trevor to say that meant he really was impressed. Perhaps I was finally getting the hang of this time traveling!

“Now, why don’t you join me on a nice trip to a pirate ship?”

Okay. Maybe not.

The End