Free Fate (Wilton's Gold #3) by Craig W. Turner Page B

Kane. How did he end up running, and what happened to him after?”
    Dexter leaned forward and touched the screen on the tablet in front of him. A street map of midtown Manhattan appeared. The date in the corner of the image said 1930, but the layout of the streets was the same as the present. He aimed his laser pointer at the screen and a red dot danced across the grid. “Mr. Kane and I jumped back to an alley here on 34th Street, in between 5th and 6th Avenue and near the base of the Empire State Building. Before I even had a chance to take in the surroundings, Kane hit me on the head with a bottle and disappeared into the crowd on 34th. I searched for him but didn’t see him... until I heard gunshots a half block away. I ran here,” he pointed to the corner of 34th and 5th, “where I saw a man lying on the ground, having sustained gunshot wounds to the midsection. I ran to the scene, and by the time I got there he was being attended to by officers, but was dying quickly. I asked around the crowd to find out who the man was, and there were several who identified him as George Mellen, well-known for manufacturing breakfast cereal and a common visitor on 5th Avenue. Mellen passed away on the sidewalk while officers pursued Kane. Not having any knowledge of where Kane was, I decided there was nothing I could do there and that the best course of action was to return home.”
    “Well, what happened to Kane?” the general asked, looking up at Dexter. “Do we know?”
    “Only through research I did when I returned. Kane was apparently gunned down in a shootout with police about three blocks from the scene of the crime.” He paused to clarify. “I say ‘shootout’ – he didn’t have much ammunition.”
    “So it was a suicide mission?” Bremner asked.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Well, you said Kane was sick,” Bremner continued his thought. “Dying. He must have decided the best thing he could do for his family and his company was to go back in time and change history, knowing he wouldn’t be coming back. Yes?”
    Dexter laughed and shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. “Are you asking me to guess?” Bremner was staring at him, waiting for an answer, which he took to mean yes. “I suppose you could say that, but I wouldn’t want to assume anything. I suppose that, based on his actions, something along those lines is probably accurate.”
    Jeff raised his hand, stuttering into his sentence like a third grader who was afraid to ask a question to which he should already know the answer. “I know this should be obvious, but how did Kane get a gun?”
    “USTP protocol is for the government official accompanying the traveler to be armed,” Schmidt said.
    “It was your gun?” He turned to Dexter’s silhouette, which was nodding. “I don’t remember you knowing how to use a gun.”
    “Clearly there are others who know better,” his friend said.
    “So, what were the repercussions?” Bremner asked. “What was the different in Kane’s company when you returned?”
    “Well, here’s the interesting thing. My only comparison is through recollection. While I had copious notes on Kane’s history, when I returned they didn’t exist. From my recollection, not too much is different, though his market share may be higher than it was.”
    “So, he died in 1930, never returned with you and, what, his son is running the company?” Bremner asked.
    “Benjamin Kane is alive,” the woman, Dr. Graham, spoke for the first time. “I spoke with him this morning.”

CHAPTER NINE
     
    “The guy is strong enough to travel through time, but the U.S. government can’t get him on an airplane to come to us?” Dexter said, loud enough for most of the people close by at Reagan National Airport to hear him.
    “Quiet,” Jeff said. “You can’t be shouting about this stuff in public. You should know that.” He took a deep breath. He didn’t particularly want to be traveling either. “Think of it this way – it’s a