Beach Invasion: Part Three

Ready for the final chapter? We hope so!

It was, without a doubt, the worst moment of my life.

To be sure, I’d been in much scarier positions than this before, in Czechoslovakia. But never before was I responsible for someone else’s life, never before had my choices put someone in danger. And now my arm was being held firmly by a Nazi spy while we waited for the one person in my life who would do anything to help me escape.

Poor Trevor. I must admit, I often think of him as a bit- well, naive and childish, and perhaps not that smart. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a genius when it comes to inventions, time travel, history and science. When it comes to people, though, Trevor just doesn’t seem to have that touch. He comes off extremely wild, somewhat obnoxious and impatient. To a certain extent that really is his character, but oftentimes I’d taken it as I needed to tell him what to do and make sure he stayed out of trouble. At eleven years old, I was telling a twenty-five-year-old man what to do!

Oh Trevor, why do you put up with me? I thought miserably. Dear God, please help us. Please!
We were in a dark alleyway in what I believed was New York. The taller, older agent had arranged to meet Trevor there by way of his partner. The younger agent looked terrified and nervous, and he kept shifting his position.

“This isn’t a good idea,” he said at long last.

“Have any better ones?”

“No, but you didn’t see this man. He’s crazy. Insane. His hair was going every direction and he talked like a mad man!”

I had to smile at this. I suppose that could be someone’s first impression of Trevor’s somewhat unkempt appearance.

Tall agent smirked. “Sounds like a duplicate of you.”

Young spy glared, but didn’t say anything.

A shadow appeared at the end of the alleyway. Trevor? I gulped.

No, that wasn’t Trevor.

“Who goes there?” The tall agent demanded, his hand gripping my arm harder as he put his hand in his pocket where his gun was.

The figure stopped, and I strained to see his face. The dim-lit area didn’t aluminate his face well enough to tell his features, but I could tell he was a man. Who is this guy?

“Who are you?” Tall agent asked again.

Obviously they weren’t expecting whoever this is.

“You agreed to meet me,” the man said slowly.

His accent was of one of the Slavic languages, but I couldn’t tell which one. He didn’t sound German, but I wasn’t sure. Perhaps he was a subversive the Nazis were supposed to meet?

“That’s not the guy who chased me,” the young agent muttered under his breath.

Now my captor was thoroughly rattled. He whipped his gun out fully and aimed it at the stranger, taking the safety off of it. “Who are you? FBI? OSS?”

It was as if he wasn’t even afraid of the gun. He started walking forwards again, his own hand going into his pocket. Perhaps a weapon? “You said you’d meet me. So here I am. I am the Contact.”

Click.

The senior spy meant business and he wasn’t afraid to show it. His gun was cocked and ready to fire. “The contact, eh? Then why haven’t you given us the password? Why didn’t you say who you were before?”

The man shrugged and didn’t reply.

“We don’t know you,” the tall agent growled, “Now do I have to blast you away to get you to leave?”

He hesitated for a second, then proceeded onwards. “You would do so anyways. So go ahead. It won’t make a difference.”

I wasn’t sure what happened first- the gunshot or the hand that jerked me back. All I know is that the next instant I was being dragged behind Trevor as he ran like the wind. “You could run, you know!” he yelped as he tried to keep up his pace.

“Trevor!” I cried, gaining my legs and beginning to run with him. “Trevor! How did- where did you come from- I thought-”

He held up his hand and replied, “Later. Let’s get out of here!”

I glanced back behind me, just in time to see the mystery man land a right clipper in the tall agent’s face. Somehow the agent had missed when he'd shot at him, or the man had been wearing a bullet proof vest. Not likely, seeing how those haven't been invented yet, The young spy was already on the ground, unconscious and a bit beat up. The man must've leapt on him first.

As we rounded a corner, the man looked up- and I got a quick glimpse of his face before he was out of sight. What I had seen of him was enough to make me question my sanity.

He looked just like a picture of my father when he was younger. But that was impossible, my Dad was forty when I’d been born, and the photo I was recalling was taken when he was twenty.

All of my senses were overloaded and I struggled to rearrange my thoughts. Who was that man? Perhaps Trevor had the answer. I was beginning to find he knew quite a bit more than I did!

~oOo~

“I’m glad to be back,” I sighed, staring up at the blue sky from my hammock.

“Aye.”

“And I’m glad we’re okay.”

“Aye.”

I eyed Trevor, who was wearing sunglasses and was laid out in the sand- with his labcoat on.

“Trevor, why aren’t you roasting?”

“Aye.”

Now I cocked an eyebrow. “Are you ignoring me?”

“Aye.”

I began to giggle as I realized what had happened. Poor Trevor was so exhausted from our crazy trip that he’d fallen asleep on the beach. Now he was asleep and was sleep talking, something he did a lot.

We’d returned to the Island shortly after Trevor rescued me. When I’d asked how he’d known that the trade-off was actually a knock-off (that is, they weren’t planning on letting Trevor walk away alive) he’d been a bit offended.

“I know how those guys work,” he’d said. “I knew that if they offered a trade they’d try to kill me. So I got some help.”

“That man?” I’d inquired.

“Yeah. He’d seen me chase down that young American spy down the road, and asked what was going on. When I explained it to him-”

“You told him I’d been kidnapped by Nazi spies? Trevor! How could you? You know we aren’t supposed to change history!”

Trevor had grinned at this and ruffled my hair. “You already changed history, Marin. They weren’t supposed to meet you on the beach.”

“True,” I’d mused. “But weren’t you afraid that the rest of history might be altered or something?”

“Not really. I knew the guy wouldn’t report the spies after he beat them up.”

At this I’d glanced at him quizzically. “How?”

Trevor shrugged. “He was a Commie. When we’d made plans on how to rescue you, I noted that in his apartment he had a Soviet book. Communists aren’t really interested in attracting the attention of the FBI, if you know what I mean.”

That’s just too strange. Not only had the man had an accent, reminded me of my father, but he was even a Communist. Could it be…? No, it was impossible. Besides, only Trevor had invented a time machine as far as we knew.

“So we organized it that he’d distract them and I’d grab you from behind.”

“How did he know the agents had a contact? Did you tell him that?”

Trevor had frowned at this, and scratched his chin. “No. I didn’t know the spies had a contact here. Hmmm… perhaps he’d just made a good guess. Strange thing was, when I went to meet him later to pay him for his help, he didn’t show up. Just left a note saying that he’d see me around.”

“I hope you didn’t tell him you’re a time traveler and wouldn’t be back.”

“Nah.” Trevor had waved it off. “Andi’s the only one we’ve told that to. I just left it at that.”

Now we were back home on the island, safe and sound. I’d told Trevor I was sorry for not trusting him back on the beach in Maine. If it hadn’t been for my fear, I wouldn’t have had to face such a horrible situation.

Trevor of course had forgiven me, brushing it off as no big deal. “Just glad you’re fine,” he’d told me, giving me a squeeze.

I guess I really did learn a lesson, I decided. I didn’t want to learn it that way, but its still invaluable. I’d learn to trust and respect someone even if you feel sometimes they aren’t capable of being a good leader. Oftentimes you underestimate someone and they really do know what they’re doing. Trevor was evidence of that. He may seem quirky and a bit- well, not-so-smart, but he really knows his stuff.

But it’s still fun to mess around with him.

I got off the hammock and crept forwards. Trevor was literally on his back, his mouth open. He’d begun to snore.

“Hey Trevor, you’re so nice,” I said sweetly.

“Aye,” he murmured in reply.

“In fact, you’re the nicest person I know. I’m so glad you’re my adopted Dad.”

“Aye.”

I giggled, then leaned down and whispered, “So, can I have that last bit of ice cream you’d claimed as yours? After all, you want to give it to me, right?”

“Aye.”

I grinned. “So I can have it?”

“Aye.”

Let’s just say Trevor was ready to throw me in the ocean later when he woke up. As I said, it was too good to resist.

The End

Beach Invasion: Part Two

We really left Marin in a pickle, didn't we? Let's see what's happened while we've been away...

Escaping was out of the question.

It had happened too fast- before I’d known what was happening the man who’d grabbed me had whipped out a hankie. Then everything had gone black.

When I’d come to, I knew I was in trouble. Deep trouble.

I was tied to a chair in a small room. I was guessing it was a hotel room, but I couldn’t be sure. Trevor and I never stayed in hotels when we time traveled, we always stayed in homes that were just like what people lived in during those time periods. The good news was that I was alone in the tiny, one bedroom place. Bad news- who knew when they were coming back. And what they’d do.

I wish I’d gone with Trevor, I thought miserably.

Oh, of all the times to be a stickler. Why hadn’t I just trusted him for once? He knew where to stand and how to act in situations like this, but I didn’t. He no doubt had a great place to watch from that the spies wouldn’t have seen us. But I’d run off…

If I get out of this, I promise I’ll never doubt Trevor again on matters like this if I can help it, I decided.

“If” being the big question.

The entire last several hours were quite fuzzy, and I had a pretty good idea why. Chloroform. It was a strange odor drug that knocked you out with only a whiff or two. I was pretty sure that was what the guy who’d grabbed me used to knock me out.

It wasn’t my first experience with it, either. About a year before Trevor and I had waltzed our way through Soviet Russia, and we’d been snatched off the streets by KGB agents. They’d drugged us and dragged us off to an interrogation, and Trevor had told me later they’d used chloroform.

Now I wished I’d been semi-conscious so I could at least have a faint idea where I was. How was Trevor going to find me?

And it didn’t help I was tied to a chair. Not a big help when you’re planning your escape.

The door jolted and I stiffened, memories flooding back of three years before at the school I'd escaped from. Calm down, don’t let them see fear. They lived off of fear, they wanted to scare you. I could remember quite clearly how the soldiers had delighted in tormenting me, laughing at my pleas to leave me alone. No, I wouldn’t let them get the satisfaction this time. I wouldn’t cry, I wouldn’t ask for mercy.

At long last, the door opened and in walked a tall, dark haired man. I resisted the temptation to shudder, and I looked away from his piercing blue eyes.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said in English. He shut the door.

His American accent was near perfect, if anyone was to guess his lineage they’d pick Norwegian. I was impressed- it was hard to fake an accent. I was living proof of that, my Czech accent was still quite noticeable even though I had been with Trevor for three years.

I refused to look at him as he marched across the room towards me. He stood over me, and I tried to count to a hundred in English in my head so I could ignore his steady gaze. Dear God, give me the strength not to show my fear, help me not to be afraid, I prayed.

“Well, I know you can talk,” he stated flatly. “You said as much last night. Remember?”

Yeah, that’s what blew this thing up in the first place.

He moved suddenly- and despite myself I flinched. I’d been waiting for a blow, some violent action. I chanced a peak to see his reaction, and he merely chuckled.

“I’m not going to hit you,” said he, pulling a chair up to sit straight across from me. “Though I can’t say as much for my partner. He was ready to kill you last night. I stopped him.”

I still didn’t look at him, I knew that my eyes would betray my alarm and terror. How do I know you still aren’t going to kill me? I wondered. Their techniques were the same as I remembered- try to enact trust first, then use the hard tactics when that didn’t work.

“How old are you?” he asked.

Silence was all I gave him.

“Look, if you want to save your neck I suggest you talk.” His semi-pleasant tone was gone and he now seemed irritated. “My partner is ready to leave you for dead, and if you don’t start telling me some things I may just let him have at it.”

Hard tactics. That was fast.

I wondered what I should do. Should I say something? Would that help me out? Perhaps they’d spare my life… No, they wouldn’t. It was best not to say a word, to get some satisfaction in knowing that I didn’t let them have anything.

When I still refused to look at him or say a word, he nodded his head. “You’ve been taught well,” he commented. “Your father wouldn’t happen to be an agent for the government, would he? It would seem that you know how to play this game.”

If my father was an agent, it wasn’t for this government. My father had been a staunch Communist, though he was from a long line of freedom-loving Slavs known as kazaks. He’d fully supported the overthrow of Tsarist Russia, even participating in the revolution. Though I hadn’t known him all that well, it was what I remembered the most vividly, his full-blown support of the Communist cause. That and the day he’d left Mother and I…

“Sooner or later you’ll have to say something, child,” the spy said, bringing me out of my thoughts. “I’m not inclined to hold onto you as a hostage if I don’t know if anyone’s coming for you.”

That’s an odd statement, I pondered. If anyone’s coming for me? Did he think no one cared enough to go after me? How could he say such a thing, not even knowing who I was?

As if to confirm my thoughts, he got up and continued, “For all I know your father could be the town’s drunk and has no intention of coming after you.”

I knew it was a trick, a way to get me to defend Trevor’s integrity and my own. I knew it in my head, but something inside my heart snapped. “Trevor will come for me,” I muttered under my breath. “He’d never leave me in the hands of the likes of men like yourself.”

There. I’d said it. I’d broken my iron will to not speak a word. Oh, křen.

This time the man took a hold of my chin and forced me to look at him. I did so grudgingly, trying to hide my true emotions under a facade of defiance.

He studied me, his blue eyes searching mine. Though he may have spoken like an American, his face looked very much like an Aryan. Perhaps the FBI would pick up on his trail sooner that he’d like to think.

“You’re not American,” he said slowly. “You don’t have an American accent.”

“Neither do you,” I countered.

“I can see under your false confidence, child. You’re fearful. You’re afraid of me.” He shrugged. “I would be offended if you weren’t. I am a man to be feared. But I do not have any intention to harm you. I don’t believe in hurting children.” He cocked his head a little. “Now where are you really from?”

I’d already given up my union card by speaking, so there was no reason not to continue. “Around.”

“Ah, so now you’re going to play the tough little girl, hmm?” He sat down once more in the chair and folded his hands. “From the way you pronounce every letter when you speak, I’d say you’re from Czechoslovakia.”

I could’ve sworn I didn’t move a muscle, but he must have seen something in my composition. “Czech, then? I thought so. I’ve never been there myself, but I hear it’s nice.”

Why is he discussing this? He shouldn’t have been. He should have been at my throat, demanding who would come after me when they noticed I was missing.

Before anymore could be said, the door burst opened and in ran the other spy, his hair wild and his eyes wide. He was quite a bit younger than his partner, and didn’t look very German at all. “We’re in trouble,” he panted. American? That was odd. He must have German ancestry. “Someone’s blown our cover.”

“What! Impossible!” my interrogator shouted. “We’ve covered our tracks completely.”

“Could it be the contact?” The younger man suggested.

Silence. Contact? I wondered. It was easier to keep my mind off my present situation if I focused on all my questions. Trevor would know what they were talking about. He’d known they were going to be here way before I had known.

“Did you see anyone? How do you know they’re after us?” The tall agent asked after a moment.

His younger partner shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “Look, all I know is some guy with crazy hair chased me down, yelling he knew who I was and that we couldn’t hide forever.”

Some guy with crazy hair- I jerked my head up and stared. I didn’t need an answer to that question. I already knew. Trevor!

Tall guy glanced back at me, and his expression hardened. “It appears our young friend knows who he is,” he commented.

I lowered my head and kicked myself in the leg. Great job, Marin.

“Well then, perhaps we’ve got a bargaining chip with this wild man. It seems we already have what he wants, now we’ll just get from him what we want. Total silence.”

Oh, no. The profitless trade. They were going to pretend to trade me off if Trevor would keep his mouth shut, when in reality they would kill us both. Dear God, please keep Trevor away! I knew without a doubt he’d accept the first trade they gave him without much thought. And he’d do it for me. Why didn’t I trust Trevor? This is all my fault!

Come back next Monday for the final post of Beach Invasion to find out what happens!

Beach Invasion

Well, are you ready to go on a grand adventure? I'll let Marin tell this one, as she's the expert on this time period...

The cold snowflakes brushed against my cheeks, and I pulled the collar of my coat closer. I shivered, the chilly air closing around me as I tried to keep warm.

Everywhere I looked I saw snowflakes, water- and millions of ladybugs. Courtesy of our favorite time traveler, Trevor Trekker.

The ladybugs were a bit out of place on this cold beachfront, and they didn’t look that happy. Or very much alive.

“Did you really have to bring those bugs with us, Trevor?” I asked. Another cold gust whipped at my jacket, and I huddled in a ball. “Dobrota! It is cold here! Remind me again why we came?”

“Too many questions,” Trevor grunted, staring through his binoculars.

“Pardon?”

“You. You ask too many questions. Why don’t you just wait and see?”

I wrinkled my nose. “You could at least tell me why we brought these poor little ladybugs here. They’re freezing. It’s not very nice.”

“I didn’t bring the ladybugs here, 4T must have transported them from that sanctuary in South Dakota we visited last. Anywho, it’s not my fault if they die.” He gave a sideways glance at the bugs and glared at them. “I hate ladybugs.”

“Oh křen, Trevor!” I admonished. “Ladybugs can’t hurt you.”

He didn’t reply as he continued to stare through his binoculars at the ocean.

It was dark and very late. I wasn’t sure what year it was, or even what month. For all I knew we could be in Antarctica, enjoying a nice warm summer snowfall. Not my cup of tea. But I hadn’t been so nice to Trevor lately and I’d agreed I’d go with him to make up for my bad attitude. I was still feeling guilty over how I blew up at him when he shot something up my nose with an air gun- while I’d been asleep.

“Ty velký průměr blbec ! Jdi ode mě pryč !” I’d yelled.

Trevor had been standing over me, the gun in his hand and a confused look on his face. “What?”

“Leave me alone!”

“But you said you wanted a translato-”

“Go away!”

I’d then promptly resorted to throwing pillows and whatever I could find at him, the pain in my nose and head adding to my anger.

It was only once I’d calmed down that Trevor informed me he had, in fact, given me the universal language translator I’d told him I’d like to have. He’d just  failed to mention he had to shoot it up my nose into my head so I could understand any language someone spoke.

I grimaced at the memory and shook my head. Though it hadn’t been the nicest thing to do, I realized Trevor meant it with good intentions. Though I still hated the thought of some weird device in my head that made me understand other languages. I didn’t even bother to ask Trevor how it worked or what it did, I was too worried to find out if it had side effects.

“There. There! There it is!”

I jerked my head up in attention as Trevor began to jump up and down on the beach, pointing at something. “It’s over there! I see it!”

Without warning, he grabbed my arm and dragged me into the cover of the trees at a run. I yelped in surprise, staggered to my feet while he continued to drag me on the wet snow, and began to run with him.

“You could have told me we needed to run,” I panted.

Slam! I ran into his back as he stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around to watch the beach again.

“Oww…” I groaned.

“It’s really there! I can see it!” He put the binoculars up to his eyes again, doing a little happy Scottish jig in the underbrush beneath the pine trees. “Oi, this is so exciting!”

“Uh huh,” I managed, standing up and brushing snow off my body. I winced and put my hand to my head, knowing I’d have a headache before too long. “What are we excited about again?”

“U-1230, of course!” Trevor replied indignantly. “Weren’t you paying attention at all?”

“You didn’t mention anything about where we were going or why,” I offered up. “So no, I have no idea what’s going on.”

He blinked, then scratched his head. Then his face broke into a sheepish grin, and he chuckled a little. “Oh, I did fail to mention that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Well-” he stopped, then glanced back towards the beach. “Why don’t I just show you?”

Trevor handed me the binoculars, and I raised them to my eyes. It took a minute for me to focus, but I finally caught sight of what he was excited about.

And then I knew.

“I’m leaving,” I announced, handing him the binoculars and marching into the woods.

“Whoa whoa whoa, where are you going?” Trevor exclaimed, running after me. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s a Nazi sub!”

“Yes, isn’t it exciting?”

I put my hands on my hips. “No, it’s not.” I shook my head. “Nazi submarine, Trevor. Nazi. Who lives during this time period?”

“Ah, but you see, you haven’t lived during this particular part of the war,” Trevor corrected, determined to find a way for me to stick around. “This is 1944, you started traveling with me in 1939.”

“Trevor, I don’t think you’re getting it. That’s a NAZI SUBMARINE!”

He cocked his head a little and stared at me. “You don’t need to shout, I’m right here.”

I threw my hands up in defeat.

“Besides, they might hear you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “They’re coming ashore.”
Now I was out of there.

“Wait!” Trevor called after me as I ran through the brush, going in whatever direction was away from the beach. “This is history!”

I knew that, and I didn’t want to be a part of it. Not this. Sure I stuck around when that deputy had tried to shoot us down. Yes, I’d braved a brush with a rattlesnake. But Nazis? I knew too much about them, I remembered it all too vividly. The school, the laws, the constant threat of being discovered that I’d escaped from their retraining center. My parents.

I slowed down from my run and looked behind me. Trevor wasn’t there. He’d decided to stay behind and watch the sub.

Oh Trevor, I groaned inwardly. Why? Why did he want to be here? Where were we anyways? And what was he so excited about? This was the Nazis, they surfaced their submarines all the time!
I sat down on a stump and contemplated what to do. Should I wait for Trevor or go back to him? He’d said they were coming ashore. I shuddered at the thought. Flashbacks overtook my memories.

Herr Kimpling, the guns, the barbed wire. I began to breath hard and I tried to clear my thoughts. The soldiers, dragging my mother away. Mom crying. The shop being destroyed. No, no! I couldn’t think about this right now, I had to conquer the fear! Father, slipping away while I was being dragged off.

“Dear God,” I managed, hardly able to breathe. “Dear God, help me!”

And just like that, they were gone.

I closed my eyes and held my head in my hands, my heart beating against my chest. Thank you God, thank you, I prayed silently.

It was too painful. Too scary. I wanted to forget it forever.

So I decided I’d wait for Trevor to come to me. I’d rather do that then go back to the beach and face another onslaught of those horrid flashbacks.

But what if those Nazis find Trevor? I wondered. What were they doing here anyways?

At that second I heard footsteps approaching. Oh, he’s back! I leapt off the tree trunk I’d been sitting on and ran towards the sound. “Trevor, are you okay?” I called. I spotted his figure before he had a chance to reply, and I raced towards him. “Please tell me you didn’t let those Nazis see you-”

I skidded to a stop and stared at the man in front of me, who in turn stared at me. That’s. Not. Trevor.

And there were two men, not one.

My feet reacted before my brain did and I found myself fleeing in the opposite direction, the sound of cursing in German right behind me. My heart flew into my throat and I choked in terror as I ran as fast as I could. Must get away from here!
“Du hast!” A hand grabbed my arm and jerked me back. I screamed, but he covered my mouth. “Now what am I going to have to do with you?”

Come back next week for part two!