Lucy Preston was the last member of the team to arrive in the conference room, interrupting what appeared to be an intense discussion. "Sorry I'm late," she said, setting her bag down and giving Rufus and Wyatt a nod. "Traffic was a nightmare. Where are we heading this time?" she asked, deciding it was best to just rip off the band-aid.

"Long Island," Agent Christopher responded, pulling up the readings they'd traced from Flynn's time machine. "May of 1927."

"Any insights on what Flynn's going to try to do there?" Wyatt asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Depends," Lucy said with a small frown. "What day in May?"

"May 19th," Connor Mason answered.

Lucy nodded. "Well…nothing comes to mind on that day, but on May 20, Charles Lindbergh takes off for his solo flight across the Atlantic. Flynn might be trying to stop that."

The room fell into silence as everyone in the room – Wyatt, Christopher, Rufus Carlin, and Connor Mason – all exchanged glances.

"What?" Lucy asked, feeling as though she was missing something.

"This is kind of small scale for Flynn, isn't it?" Rufus asked. "I mean…his plays up to now have involved killing a bunch of key people on the Hindenberg, handing Von Braun over to the Russians, and turning the Alamo into a historical footnote."

"He went to Vegas in the sixties to steal a nuclear reactor to power his ship," Wyatt pointed out. "He could be there for something like that."

"What, he just parked in 1927 for a tune up?" Rufus asked.

Lucy shook her head. "I don't think so," she said "Lindbergh's flight was a big step toward commercial air travel becoming a thing. I mean…that would have probably happened without him. All it would take is someone else making the flight…but this would be a setback. And with the great depression just a few years away, who knows when someone would be able to make that flight. And then there's the Lindbergh baby case and all of that impact going away as well."

"Linbergh baby case?" Wyatt asked.

"Five years after his flight, in March of 1932, Charles and Anne Lindbergh's two year old son was kidnapped from their home in East Amwell, New Jersey," Lucy explained, moving to the computer to pull up the information. "There was a ransom demand, a massive investigation involving the FBI, which was the first time they'd been used to investigate a kidnapping…All because of Lindbergh's celebrity. Kidnapping is now a federal crime because of this case, because of the attention it got."

Wyatt nodded. "So…Lindbergh doesn't fly across the Atlantic, commercial air travel and federal kidnapping laws take a hit?" he asked, his tone indicating he wanted to make sure he understood.

Lucy confirmed it with a nod. "Not to mention all of the chain reaction effects of those changes." She looked to Rufus. "It may be small scale, but we need to make sure Lindbergh takes off on May 20th lands in Paris on the 21st. I couldn't begin to imagine what sort of ripple effect this might cause."

"I get it," Rufus said, standing. "Let's go change into some period appropriate itchy clothing." He made his way out of the room.

Wyatt moved to do the same as did Lucy.

"Miss Preston, may we have a word?" Conner said.

Wyatt stopped in the doorway, looking to Lucy. She gave him a small nod. "I'll be right down," she said. "Don't leave without me," she added, forcing a small smile at her lame joke.

Wyatt offered an obligatory half smile before nodding and continuing on his way.

Lucy closed the conference room door and turned to their handlers. "What is it?" she asked.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. "You're not usually so late."

"I'm fine," Lucy said. "Like I said, traffic was insane. Is that all?"

Connor and Agent Christopher exchanged a glance and gave a small nod. "You can understand our concern," Agent Christopher said. "Given how important this mission is."

"I'm fine," Lucy insisted. "And the longer we stand here, the more time Flynn has to do whatever he's going to do."

"Of course," Connor said. "You can go."

Lucy nodded and left the conference room to change. She then made her way to the ship, where Wyatt and Rufus were settling in for the trip.

"Everything alright?" Wyatt asked as Lucy slid into her seat across from him.

"Everything's fine," Lucy said, attempting to buckle her strap.

"Just making sure," Wyatt said as he leaned in to strap her in. "You look good in that dress by the way."

"It's the same one I wore to the Hindenberg," she said with a small shrug.

Wyatt gave a small nod and sat back, strapping in.

"If you two are done with the chit-chat, we're ready to go," Rufus said, pushing some buttons as the door to the machine closed. Lucy closed her eyes, bracing herself for the unfortunately familiar sensation of a massive weight on her chest, the air being forced from her lungs, the loud rushing in her ears, and the general feeling of nausea and wishing for death.

It ended almost as suddenly as it began and she took in a gasp of air as soon as her lungs decompressed. She fumbled with the strap, unbuckling herself and moving toward the door and then to the ground. She was already feeling better as she blinked in their surroundings. She looked back at Rufus and Wyatt and saw that they too, while still looking like they might be sick, were at least standing upright.

"I guess the recovery time gets shorter each time," Wyatt commented.

"Lucky us," Rufus said dryly.

Lucy listened, but still looked around. "I think there's a road this way," she said, pointing to the east. "We can probably hitchhike to Long Island from there."

Wyatt nodded and took a deep breath. "Let's get going," he said, slowly starting in the direction she'd indicated. Rufus started a moment later, and Lucy fell into step beside them.