THE NIGHT OF THE FIRST MISSION
By Andamogirl
WWW
ACT TWO
The next morning
Holding a cup of coffee, sitting in his favorite armchair, General Grant finished reading reports from the latest battles, satisfied, and glanced at the two captains sleeping soundly back to back on the same narrow bunk and sharing a blanket.
He raised his eyes towards Dr. Henderson as the CMO joined him. "Hello Stephen." He smiled and pointed at the two sleeping men and said, "I think I have found the perfect companion for Artemus."
Dr. Henderson nodded. "Yes, Sir. But Captain Gordon refuses to work with anyone. It's understandable after his former partner betrayed him and had him almost killed."
Ulysses S. Grant nodded. "It was the first time Artemus ended up in your hands, if I remember correctly. He was a mess, barely alive." He took another sip of coffee and said, "I know that. I'd like to see them working together – because I'm sure they are made to be together. I can feel it. Maybe later, after the war is over – I hope soon then. Do you know that President Lincoln wants to create a unique and full-scale federal law enforcement agency called the "Secret Service Division" under the Department of the Treasury."
Henderson shook his head. "No, Sir."
Grant took another swallow of the bitter and burning beverage. "I could see them working well for that Secret Service Division after the war. The Secret Service Division will assume the prevention and investigation of counterfeiting of U.S. currency and U.S. treasury securities, and the protection of the President and the Vice President. But the agents working in that agency will investigate all crime under federal jurisdiction too, from murder to bank robbery to illegal gambling. The President wants to nominate William Patrick Wood as Director of the Secret Services. It's a good choice. Wood is a veteran of the Mexican-American war and the Director of the Old Capitol Prison. The legislation is almost ready."
Dr. Henderson shook his head. "I didn't know, Sir. That's a good idea."
Grant smiled. "I think that West and Artemus will be like fish in water in that agency."
The physician smiled. "That's a very good idea, Mr. President, but it's not certain that Artemus will want to work for the Secret Services. He would want to be an actor again – after all the horrible things that happened to him. He suffered more than anyone I know. Any other man would have lost his mind or taken his own life a long time ago."
General Grant gulped the rest of his coffee. "I know. He's someone exceptional." He grinned as he watched James West roll over on his stomach – and fall out of bed.
Dr. Henderson continued, "As for Captain West, he probably wants to pursue a career in the Cavalry, Sir, and to stay your aide de camp."
Shortly after Artemus stretched like an oversized cat and claimed the bunk for himself - and the blanket. He moaned in pain, opened his eyes for a couple of seconds before falling asleep again.
The cavalry Captain moved on his knees and looked around him, both confused and disoriented. "What's the hell…?" he said. He glanced at Artemus still sleeping and realized that he had fallen off the bunk he had shared with the other man.
He had been too tired last night to regain his tent, so he had invaded Gordon's bunk as he was lying on his side, leaving enough room for himself, he remembered.
He pulled himself into an upright position and gasped, noticing Grant and Henderson both looking at him, smiling, both amused. His face neutral, he saluted. "Good morning, General, good morning Doctor."
General Grant smiled. "Good morning Captain. Now that you're awake, go back to your tent, prepare yourself and gulp down a cup of coffee. I want you to be here in ten minutes, we have much to do. General Lee and the rest of his army won't escape me. I want to put an end to this war, once and for all."
The aide de camp nodded. "Yes, Sir." Then he left the tent at top speed.
The CMO sat on the edge of the bunk on which Artemus was now sprawled and touching the other man's throat, took his pulse. Then he felt his forehead. The bandage was blood-free, he noticed with satisfaction. So the new stitches held. "Pulse is strong and steady, the fever's gone, he's going to be alright. That man is a force of nature."
The President smiled. "I should stop worrying about him, but I can't. That man is indestructible – and so is Captain West. I'm right; they were made to be together."
WWW
Inside Grant's tent
Much later, the same day
General Grant had just finished his meeting with his senior officers when he noticed Artemus coming his way, a blanket on his shoulders, dressed in uniform pants, but barefoot, pressing his hand on his bare and bandaged chest. He was hobbling, wincing with every step.
He frowned, both upset and worried. "What's the hell are you doing out of your bunk Captain? I gave you a direct order: I don't want you to leave that bunk for two weeks."
Gordon froze on the spot, nodded and smiled sheepishly. "I know Sir, but I had a natural and urgent need that I had to take care of. It couldn't wait. I'm going back to my bunk. Good night, Sir."
The General raised his hand and pointed at a nearby chair. "Sit down Artemus! I'd like to discuss something with you."
Captain Gordon swayed, grabbing on to the table to keep himself upright.
Before Grant had time to react, Jim West who had stayed in the tent – waiting for orders - jumped to Artemus's side and put a hand under the other man's elbow. "Easy, Captain Gordon!" He supported him until he was securely seated, then went back to his own chair.
Gordon smiled. "Thank you, Captain West."
General Grant turned towards West standing at the end of the table, now gathering military reports. "It does concern you too, Captain. Take a place beside Artemus."
The two men complied, both curious.
Grant took his place in his armchair and continued, "President Lincoln wants to create a federal law enforcement agency called the "Secret Service Division" under the Department of the Treasury. This Secret Service Division will assume the prevention and investigation of the counterfeiting of U.S. currency and U.S. treasury securities, and the essential of the job will be the protection of the President and the Vice President. But the agents working in that agency will investigate all crime under federal jurisdiction too, from murder to bank robbery to illegal gambling. I think when the war is over, that the two of you will be good secret service agents, no – the best! And I think you should be partners too, you are made to be together."
Artemus smiled. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Sir. But my intention is to go back to the stage after the war. I'm an actor first and foremost."
Jim nodded. "As for me, I want to pursue my career in the Cavalry, Sir. It would be a pleasure and an honor to stay at your side, as your aide de camp, Sir."
Gordon poured three cups of coffee and slid one to Grant across the table. "I'll accept that post once you'll be President, Sir. To be at your side again to protect you. Not before," he said.
West put his hand on Artemus's shoulder with affection. "I'll do the same thing once you're seated in the Oval Office, Sir. To protect you. Not before. I'm following Artie on that."
Artemus gave Jim a surprised look. "Did you just call me Artie?"
Smiling Jim nodded. "I just did, yes. You can call me Jim. Don't you like your nickname?"
Artemus frowned. "Artie? That's a bizarre nickname."
Jim chuckled. "Not as bizarre as your name, Artemus… is it the male version of Artemis?" Smiling he reached out. "I usually give nicknames to my friends, Artie."
More than surprised, Artie blinked a couple of times and shook Jim's hand automatically. "Friend? You want to be my friend?"
Jim nodded. "Yes, unless you don't want to be my friend too."
Ill at ease, Gordon closed in on himself. Feeling that the other man was visibly uncomfortable about the 'friend' thing, Jim didn't insist.
Grant stayed neutral. "Gentlemen, I have no intention of becoming the next President of this country – I'm a soldier, not a politician." He chuckled. "Me at the White House? No way."
Artie tried to stand and Jim grabbed his arm, hauling the other man upright and holding on until he was sure he could stay that way. "Alright, let's go back to your bunk."
Artemus pulled back. "I'm okay. There's no need for you to stay at my side anymore, James. I don't need another mother-hen overprotecting me," he hissed. He was angry.
He left, swaying on unsteady legs.
Grant moved closer to Captain West and said, "Don't take it personally. He has nothing against you, Captain. He's just hurting – and not because of you. Good night."
Jim nodded. "Good night, Sir."
WWW
The next morning
Satisfied Dr. Henderson put his stethoscope back in his black bag. "Good! Your health is improving. You're going to be alright, Artemus, but it's going to take some time."
Captain Gordon scowled. "I know, but I hate being stuck on that bunk, doctor. I'm usually doing millions of things per day – and now, I'm doing nothing but sleep. It's exhausting!"
Stephen Henderson smiled then he nodded. "I understand, but you were seriously injured Artemus and you are recovering. I'm not going to let you do anything strenuous. You need to rest and stay in that bunk as much as possible. You could read books."
Pointing at the books piled beside his bunk Artie said, "The General already thought about it. I love reading books – usually - but I'm not in the mood. I should be helping General Grant win the war… and I'm stuck here! It's bloody frustrating!"
Henderson nodded. "You want to help the General? Then I have something for you, Artemus. I heard that General Grant needs a new assistant because his usual secretary Lieutenant Morrison is a bit overwhelmed. You could help him – I heard that you're very talented in the use of words and that your reports are short, effective and clear. Just the way the General like them. Doing paperwork would keep you busy, help the General and it's not tiring – and you could do it from your bunk. It's perfect!"
Giving Henderson an appalled look, Artie said, "With all due respect Sir, I'm a spy, a soldier, a man of action, not a secretary hidden behind a desk doing tedious paperwork!"
Stephen Henderson nodded. "For the next two weeks you will!" He smiled and added, "And I'll be sure you remain tranquil, with the General with you round the clock. That's an order."
Muttering something under his breath, Artie used his other hand to salute. "Yes Sir." He said, then as he watched the Colonel leave the bunk room he grumbled, "Me, a secretary!"
Bored beyond definition, Captain Gordon grabbed the first book on the top of the pile: the first volume (of 7) of Commentarii de Bello Gallico, usually known in English as The Gallic War. He sighed. These are good books at least!"
WWW
In the afternoon
Holding a small metal box, Captain West entered the bunks room in the middle of the afternoon, finding Artemus surrounded by numerous files. There were files everywhere: on Artemus's lap, on the floor, stacked on boxes of ammunition...
Propped against piled pillows, Captain Gordon was adding notes on a report, in the margin cursing under his breath. "Those reports are a nightmare to read!" he said. "The spelling is just awful, the grammar is appalling, there's no punctuation, and there are ink stains to top it all…" He looked up at Jim. "I need to translate all these reports into good English before giving them to the General! I'm a spy not some kind of proof reader!"
Smiling Jim pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat on it. "Hi Artie! How are you feeling today? A bit grouchy perhaps? Did you have your coffee?"
Frowning Artie scowled. "Wouldn't you be grouchy in my place?" He calmed down. "Hiya Jim. What's bringing you to my office?"
Placing the box on his lap Jim said, "I heard that the General hired you as his new secretary. Good! It's relaxing and safe."
Furrowing his brow Artemus glared at Jim. "It's not relaxing – at all."
Jim nodded. "You know I have a lot of reports to do myself and I don't have a way with words…"
Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Artie said, "I won't read and correct your reports, James. Not on your life! Don't even think about it." Intrigued, he looked at the metal box. "What's this?"
Smiling mysteriously, Jim traced the lid with his finger. "It's a box – with something inside, correction: two things inside, for you."
Surprised, Artemus lifted one eyebrow. "For me? What is it?"
Grinning, Jim opened the box and pulled out a chocolate cookie. "Nurse Barton gave this cookie to me because she likes me – a lot. Her mother sends her packets of homemade cookies each week. She usually keeps them for herself, but as I told you, she likes me very much, so she offered me two of her cookies…there's a second one in the box. They look delicious…and probably are delicious. She told me that she would give me a cookie per day, starting tomorrow…"
Gordon narrowed his eyes in suspicion again. "Let me guess, you will give me a cookie per day if I do your homework."
Reaching out, Jim nodded. "How did you guess? Yes, I will, until you feel better and leave that bunk and stop being the General's new secretary. Two weeks, fourteen cookies. Think of it, fourteen chocolate cookies, crunchy outside, and soft inside…"
Eying the cookie covetously, Artemus couldn't help but lick his lips. "Alright, but I want a cigar in addition, a good one!"
Captain West smiled in triumph. "Okay, deal."
Holding the cookie Artemus said, "Deal." Then he asked, "Who told you that I couldn't resist cookies? I want names!"
WWW
Two weeks later
It was the middle of the night when Artemus was awakened by an odd sound, which he couldn't identify. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing when his chest twinged slightly and looked around him. The General's tent was weakly lit by a lone kerosene lamp sat on the table, and the 'bunk room' was almost plunged in darkness.
He glanced to his right and smiled as he detected the shape of Grant lying on his side, still fully dressed and snoring, then he stood up.
He heard the noise again – coming from the rear part of the tent, where the General stored his saddle and gun. He smiled, thinking that it was here too that he, Artemus Gordon, the man of a thousand faces, kept trunks filled with anything necessary to discreetly disguise himself, clothes, wigs, make up and various accessories. The place was perfect!
He headed there silently – thinking about a rat eating Grant's saddle. "Artemus Gordon, spy extraordinaire and occasionally rat slayer' he thought with a large smile. But his smile vanished as he saw a man emerging from the shadows. He was built like a mountain, dressed in black from head to toe and holding a long sharp knife.
In a split second he noticed that the intruder – probably an assassin – had used his knife to cut the thick material of the tent to enter it. That was the odd noise he had heard shortly before.
Raising his knife the man in black attacked. Artie immediately raised his arm to block the blade descending on him, and gathering his strength punched the assassin in his hooded-face with his free hand. But it had no effect. It was like hitting a rock, he thought.
The assassin plunged the knife somewhere in the groin area. Artemus immediately let out a yell. He fell back, blood spurting from the wound.
The man in black moved towards Grant who had just woken up and was now sitting on his bunk, both disoriented and confused. He grabbed the General's neck with his large hand, lifted the knife and plunged it towards Grant's heart…
Suddenly a loud BANG resounded through the tent.
The assassin was hit in the shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards, growling in anger. He recovered quickly, though, so Artemus fired again and the man in black collapsed to the ground and stayed motionless, a bullet hole in his head.
Balanced on one knee, teeth clenched, doing everything he could to resist the pain, holding Grant's smoking gun, Gordon closed his eyes and finally let his body go limp.
Ulysses S. Grant was at Gordon's side in a couple of seconds. Then the tent was crowded with soldiers and officers on night guard duty. "Call Dr. Henderson, quickly!" he commanded. Then he noticed with dread the amount of blood soaking the other man's pants. With one hand he cupped Artemus' s cheek. "Hold on Artemus, hold on, Stephen is on his way."
Grimacing, Artie nodded, his eyes filled with tears. The pain was almost unbearable. "You alright, Sir?" he asked as everything was getting hazy.
Grant nodded and placed a soothing hand on the other man's forehead. "Yes, I'm alright, you saved my life, again." He saw Jim West elbowing his way through the people gathered there and said, "Captain West! Come here."
Complying, Jim knelt beside Artie and took his hand in his. Smiling he said, "Lying down on the job again Artie? I'm shocked. Everything's going to be alright. It's just a small puncture wound."
Everything was blurry now and Artemus breathed, "You're not… funny," then his eyes rolled into the back of head and he passed out.
Tbc.