Digging Deeper

"Jimmy, you are going to spoil that horse."

Jimmy winced a little at his older sister's words. He'd known Mandy would disapprove if she caught him feeding his horse a sugar cube taken from the pantry at home. But that was no reason not to do it, was it? After all, the most wonderful horse in the world, which Daisy surely was, deserved a sugar cube. Daisy thought so too and was quite content to accept the treat. And how could his sister think he was taking anything other than impeccable care of his impeccable mare? He had personally curry-combed Daisy daily so that her soft brown coat gleamed, cleaned her hooves, brushed out her mane and tail, bought her some brand new, extra nice blankets with his own money and told her a thousand times over what a wonderful, incomparable, precious lady she was. He had even ridden her several times. But spoiling? Never!

"How could anyone ever spoil you?" he asked Daisy, as he gave her one last pet on that irresistible white splash on her muzzle. He saw Mandy roll her eyes as she sighed and left the stable car for Wanderer II's main car.

Hypocrite!

As if she and Tem weren't taking extra good care of their horses too! Even if Tem and Baccarat weren't exactly affectionate toward one another, Jimmy couldn't fault the way Tem maintained his horses. Of course, Baccarat was no Daisy!

They'd all three of them returned to Wanderer II with more than one cartload of possessions, most of them Jimmy's. The task of transferring their worldly goods to the train had not been forgotten, merely subordinated. Organizing their belongings could wait – except for the one, that special file box Jimmy had brought. He had to remember to do something about it. Organization had never been his strong point anyway. Tem and Mandy, wearing disguises, had also visited not only the new Federal Building, but several local government offices and obtained maps of much of the city, and information on its current construction projects and recent major tenants. Soon they'd be using Wanderer II's map table and partnership desk to go over the information and try to figure out the likeliest parts of the city to search first. They'd have some help from agents Hamilton and Elser too. Their families' killers might run, but they couldn't hide forever.

With a final, longing look at his horse – his very own, not a hand-me-down or a loaner like all the other horses he'd ever ridden – Jimmy followed his sister back into the Wanderer II's main living quarters car. He'd recalled belatedly that there was one envelope inside the special file box that he needed to stash away first and foremost, even if he meant to share the rest of the files with Mandy and Tem.

"Hey!" he shouted at them as he walked in and saw Tem approaching the file box that he'd set down on the partnership desk. "That's mine!" Jimmy had arrived just in time. As Tem drew back, the younger man lifted the lid and pulled out one envelope, darker than the rest, from the box and tucked it away in his shirt. "The others you can look at, but this one's mine for safekeeping."

Tem and his sister made no protest, but looked down at the envelopes still jam-packed inside the box.

"What are they?" Tem asked.

"Our dads' and moms' story files," Jimmy answered. "You said the other day you were wishing you could remember the stories we used to hear better, so I thought these might come in handy."

"They kept files of the stories they told us when we were kids?" Mandy had a skeptical look on her face as she pulled out one of the envelopes.

Jimmy shook his head.

"Not them – me. I kept them." He hoped he could also keep his voice even. He had never told anyone about this special box before, or what he'd done. "I can remember everything someone says word-for-word once I hear it, but it only lasts in my head like that for a couple of weeks. I didn't ever want to forget those stories, so while I could remember them that way, I wrote them all down, just like they were told to me. I was sort of keeping them for myself, but if there's anything in them that might be of use to us now . . . ." His voice trailed off. Maybe they'd think it was a stupid idea. These were the stories he'd heard as a child, after all. He'd never thought any of them were fairy tales, the way Tem and Mandy had, but . . . .

"My god . . . ." Mandy whispered, looking oddly pale as she read the contents of the envelope she'd picked up. "These are Dad's exact words! It's like I can hear him saying them . . . ."

Tem was attempting to flip through the envelopes, though they were packed in tight. One in particular caught his eyes, though, and he too paled a bit as he pulled it out and read the inscription on the outside of the envelope. Beneath the date, it was labeled 'Aunt Adele.'

"My mother . . . ?" Tem choked.

Oh geez, Jimmy thought. I didn't even consider how he'd feel about those . . . .

"Uh, yeah," Jimmy mumbled. "Those don't have any Secret Service type information in them. It's just . . . ." Aunt Adele had died when Jimmy was only nine, but she'd often helped his parents take care of him and told him stories when he was sick, and he'd been sick a lot. "I didn't want to lose her stories either."

Please don't ask me to destroy them, please don't ask me to destroy them, he thought desperately. Jimmy had loved his Aunt Adele, just as everyone who knew her loved her, and these files and memories were all he had left now.

"Anyway," he stammered, "I sort of saved all of the stories our parents told me. I didn't mean to do anything wrong . . . ."

Jimmy watched nervously as his sister and Tem discovered the separate sections within the box – one for each of their parents, with master storyteller Artemus Gordon's segment being the largest. There were even a few envelopes of stories from Aunt Kate and from Uncle Jeremy before Jeremy was . . . the way he was now. Also something Jimmy couldn't bear the thought of parting with.

"Jimmy, these are a treasure," his sister breathed. Tem was nodding too. Perhaps they wouldn't ask him to get rid of any of these files after all, and would use them the way he'd intended. He hadn't ever shared anything quite so important to him with anyone before, and the darker envelope he couldn't share at all. He'd have to give careful consideration to where he stashed that one.

Tem, looking reluctant, set the envelope with his mother's stories back in the box.

"Treasure, all right, he sighed. "Thank you, Jimmy, for sharing this. I want more than I can say to read these, but right now we've got another subject to deal with."

Mandy, with equal regret, put away the pages she'd been looking at and put the other envelope back in the box before Jimmy replaced the lid and moved it off to one side of the partnership desk.

"You've found something?" Jimmy asked as his moment's relief gave way to a different, more jarring emotion.

"Agent Hamilton thinks he has," Tem said, pulling out a street map that had been in his coat pocket. He spread it out on the desk, since the big table was still covered with other hastily transferred objects. As his partners moved in for a closer look, Tem jabbed at a small section of map alarmingly close to where Wanderer II was located.

"They're in our backyard?" Jimmy swallowed hard.

"They might be," Tem told them.

Suddenly Jimmy felt as if the thick, formidable walls of the train were a whole lot thinner.

"It isn't anything we can say for certain, but a possibility we need to explore, and one that makes sense. A weapons-smuggling racket like the one we're tracking, large, hidden and well organized, wouldn't want to stick all of its eggs in just one basket. It would want to have multiple means of transportation at its disposal capable of handling multiple loads of contraband too huge and heave to transport by horse cart or auto-mobile." Tem still frowned when pronouncing the latter term. "Chicago is ideal for that. So – a wharf-side warehouse for transportation by ship . . . ."

"And one near the railyards for transportation by train," Mandy nodded. She peered still closer at the section by the tip of Tem's finger. "Well, we don't have to go far at least. But what makes Hamilton think that this building might be our spot to target?"

Jimmy moved in closer too, getting a better look at the building figure in question – a warehouse less than a block from the East end of the railyard. Not the best neighborhood, by repute, and not one he'd ever visited.

"It has many of the same characteristics as the warehouse down by the wharf – similar size, windows kept shaded night and day, an absentee landlord renting it out to a company that uses only vague initials, appears to be innocuous and," Tem paused briefly, "a company that upon closer inspection appears not to exist at all."

"There may be a lot of 'non-existent' firms in a city this size," Mandy said. "A lot that want to stay off the books officially."

"True," Tem answered. "But none in a facility this size that we could find this close to the railroads. All of the other businesses in the vicinity check out as legit, or at least on-the-record illegit, in one way or another. This one remains an enigma. Hamilton's trying to case the place today as carefully as he can. He wants us – meaning you and me only, no offense Jimmy," Tem said as he looked straight at Mandy, "to meet him and Elser down there at ten o'clock tonight. Full attire."

Jimmy wasn't sure what 'full attire' meant in this case, but he sure wasn't offended to be left out of an expedition he had no desire to be included in.

"Uh, none taken," he stammered with relief. Much as he wanted to apprehend the man in the red hat who shot Uncle Jim, he'd prefer to do it at a safe distance.

"That doesn't mean I have nothing for you to do, though," Tem added.

Aw, heck . . . .

"Let me guess," Jimmy just knew what was coming. "You want me to keep an eye on the stable . . . ." Which meant mucking it out of course. ". . . . and put all my stuff away, right?"

"The stable, yes," Tem told him. "But I wouldn't ask even the mighty Hercules to put away all your belongings in one night! What we need you to do, though, is keep an eye on everything here. You're the one in sole charge of the fort while we're gone. That means being on the lookout for any sign of trouble and contacting Washington straight away if there is. If Amanda and I don't come back by morning too."

Jimmy's jaw dropped.

"Is that a possibility . . . ?" he whispered, appalled at what this could mean.

"It is, though not necessarily the worst one," Tem nodded. "Don't panic if that's the case. The odds are good that we could be delayed, not anything else. But let Washington know about it, okay?"

You will come back! You will come back! Jimmy thought furiously at them both. He must have looked fish-hooked, because Mandy put what was meant to be a reassuring hand on his arm.

"You can handle this, little brother," she smiled at him. "I know you can."

Why the heck was she saying that when she was the one going off to do something crazy dangerous with Tem? Like she's been doing for a couple of years . . . . he reminded himself.

Strange. He'd known and accepted the fact that the two of them were full-fledged Secret Service agents. He'd never worried much about the dangers of what they did in the field, because he'd known his Dad and Uncle Jim did that sort of thing all the time and they'd always come back. Maybe with an injury or two, but they had come back. So Jimmy had just assumed it would be the same for Tem and Mandy. He'd taken it for granted that they'd always return home too, just like in the bedtime stories. Their danger was sort of not real then. Now it was. Nothing had changed and everything had changed.

You can handle this.

Mandy thought he could. That meant he'd better do it. He had to make himself buck up. After all, they had the President of the United States counting on them.

Jimmy moved his arm to clasp her hand firmly instead of being an armrest, and did his best to give her a smile in return.

"Fine," he said. "But I expect to hear all about it when you get back – I've got an empty file box to fill!"

Jimmy did his best to keep himself distracted for the remainder of the afternoon while Tem and his sister were preparing for their evening outing. It didn't work for the most part. He began the Sisyphean task of cleaning up the mess of objects he'd had transported on board Wanderer II, not all of them, strictly speaking, his. Artemus Gordon had left behind a considerable collection of gadgets, devices and experimental projects of his own design which would not be safe to leave around the Gordon residence if Uncle Jeremy was going to be moved in. Jimmy and Tem had worked to come up with some sturdy, reinforced bars and locks for the house's attic entrance for the short haul, since cleaning out that area would take forever. But Jimmy, as his father's final lab assistant and a Secret Service gadget-developer in his own right, had been given charge of the rest. Just as important as keeping the collection safe from Uncle Jeremy and vice versa, Jimmy wanted to comb through everything that his father had come up with in case it could be put to good use now. Jimmy's chemical 'dazzler' balls were a modification of one of Artemus' inventions, and there were plenty of others that needed no modification to be extremely useful still. Many an agent owed their lives to those devices, and if Jimmy was any judge, future agents would be indebted to his father as well.

In between poring over a mountain of hastily packaged and even more hastily labeled Gordon goods and thinking about how to keep an eye on 'everything,' Jimmy peered over at Tem and Mandy's preparations. Much to his unease, it looked like his sister was getting dressed to kill, not that he would ever watch her dressing! But he did notice that she'd gotten out the sleeve derringer sheath that she used sometimes, a slightly smaller version of the one that Tem often wore, and set it down on the partnership desk while she loaded the derringer. She'd also gotten out her working black parasol, less ornate than the one she'd carried as part of her mourning outfit, but a whole lot more deadly. Jimmy should have guessed that she wouldn't wear one of her white outfits and carry the white electrical parasol for a nighttime secret mission, but he didn't want to think of her needing the sleeve derringer or the black parasol either.

Watching Tem prepare wasn't any more reassuring, though Jimmy didn't have to feel as embarrassed at seeing what he was up to as Tem strode around shirtless and changed outfits less discreetly. It was fascinating the sheer number of weapons, lockpicks, gizmos and dangerous objects his big brother-in-law could conceal about his person and still be able to fight like the devil and move without making any noise. It must have been a trait Tem had gotten from Uncle Jim and that Jimmy hadn't mastered – at least not yet. If Jimmy had tried to hide so many guns, knives, bits of wire and other stuff in his own clothing, he'd have clanked when he walked and possibly stabbed or shot himself in the process. But Tem moved with the silent grace of a Siamese cat and the nonchalance of someone getting ready for nothing more than a typical evening stroll.

After consuming a good dinner prepared for them by Micah, and which Jimmy wished he could have enjoyed, Tem and Mandy donned their final bits of summer evening outerwear and headed toward the door of the train's second car. Jimmy watched them in dismay.

"Isn't it early? I thought you said you were meeting the others at ten o'clock."

It shouldn't take them over two hours to walk to a destination that was only a couple of city blocks away.

"We've got another stop to make along the way," Tem said. "Take care of everything while we're gone. With any luck, we'll be back before you know it."

You'd better be, Jimmy thought.