A/N: Thank you frtaylor771 for your review! I love hearing from my readers. I appreciate all the love! Keep reading, I'll keep writing!
Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!
Wyatt and Flynn found themselves in the foyer of the house. They scanned the areas for any intruders. The front door and windows didn't show any signs of forced entry. They stopped moving across the old wood floors to listen. They could hear the faint shuffling of footsteps above them.
Turning to look at Flynn, Wyatt motioned for Flynn to head around the left, while he offered to go to the right. Before Flynn could agree, the floorboard creaked loudly around the corner of the stairwell in the hallway that wrapped around to the back of the house.
Both men whirled around, guns aimed before them. Their eyes landed on William Farr. The man raised his hands defensively. "Wait! Wait! Don't shoot me!"
"What are you doing here?" Flynn questioned, never lowering his weapon.
Farr's gaze bounced between the two. "You're quite jumpy-"
"Answer the question!" Wyatt snapped, grip tightening on his gun.
Farr sighed. "I came to discuss the matter further with Mr. Snow."
"Why?" Wyatt asked. "You didn't seem too interesting in speaking to him earlier."
"Things have changed," Farr admitted with a shrug.
Flynn studied him. He didn't trust the man. "Where's your friend?"
"What friend?" Farr asked. "I came by myself."
Wyatt gave Farr a quick once-over. Farr was still dressed in his fancy suit but he had no hat. He cursed himself under his breath. Turning to Flynn, he pointed out, "The two we saw had hats."
Flynn's eyes ran the length of Farr before meeting Wyatt's again. He whirled back around, glancing around the corner for the two men they had seen coming.
Wyatt motioned for Farr to stay quiet by bringing his finger to his lips. Farr nodded, remaining motionless as Wyatt headed in the opposite direction as Flynn, hoping to flush out the men they suspected to be Rittenhouse.
Flynn's eyes darted about the sparse room, searching for the intruder. The room held a small puffed sofa that sat in the middle of the room, facing the old fireplace. Next to the chipped fireplace sat the rod iron tools for it. Across the room in the opposite corner from the entryway, sat a single wooden chair. The tall front windows were adorned by floor to ceiling brown curtains that were barely cracked open.
Knowing there were limited places for an intruder to hide, Flynn glanced down at the floor where the floor to ceiling curtains hung over the windows, hoping to see the tips of shoes peeking out. As he inched closer, he heard a scuffle behind him.
Whirling around toward the commotion, he stood eye to eye with a large man wearing a bowler hat and brown suit. The man before Flynn raised his gun, pointing it straight at Flynn's face.
Reacting quickly, Flynn grabbed the man's wrist, jerking it to the side. The gun went off, lighting the room briefly, sending the bullet through the window, shattering it into pieces. The sounds of the glass plinking off the wooden floorboards were drowned out by the two grappling for control.
The two struggled for power over the weapon. The larger man used his body to push Flynn backward toward the sofa as they fought for the weapon. Flynn felt the arm of the sofa slam into the back of his thighs. Before he could react, he toppled over the side.
Flynn refused to release his grip on the man and his weapon, knowing the severity of such an action. When he fell, he pulled the man down with him. The two crashed onto the floor and the gun popped out of the man's grip, sliding across the floor of the dark room.
Jumping to his feet as quickly as he could, Flynn took the opportunity to strike first. Flynn kicked the man in the stomach as he knelt on his hands and knees, preparing to stand.
The man rolled across the floor toward the fireplace. Flynn's eyes quickly darted about the dark room, trying to spot the gun. When his eyes focused on the outline of it, barely peeking out from under the curtain, he climbed over the back of the sofa, running toward it.
He could hear the man's footsteps chasing him across the room. He could feel the vibrations on the floor increasing, telling him that he was closing in on him.
Flynn slid across the floor on his knees, reaching for the gun. Once he grabbed it, he rolled onto his back, firing at the man who now stood behind him, arm over his head with the fire poker raised to strike. The shot blew through the man's chest. Flynn fired it again for good measure, watching the man's body slump down to his knees before collapsing onto the old floor, the fire poker clanking on the floor next to him.
Flynn blinked at how close the man was to striking him. He tried to steady his breathing as he stood back on shaky feet. He brushed his hair back once he was upright.
The scuffle in the next room continued. Flynn raced across the foyer into the other sitting room. When he entered, he watched as Wyatt finished his fight with the second intruder. The second Rittenhouse agent laid on the ground, nose broken and bloody as Wyatt aimed the gun at his head.
Breathless, Wyatt asked, "What are you doing here?"
Flynn crossed the room, hand clutching the gun tightly. He stopped just a couple of feet behind the man. He shot Wyatt a quick look, silently asking him if he was okay. Wyatt nodded once in response.
The man spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor by Wyatt's feet.
Wyatt glared at the man. "Start talking."
"Or what?" the man retorted, sniffling slightly.
"I'll do more than just break your nose," Wyatt threatened. "Start talking!"
The man sneered at Wyatt, blood still running down his face.
Wyatt's eyes never left the man on the floor before him. He asked Flynn, "Where's Farr?"
Flynn blinked at the question, turning to glance over his shoulder. He had completely forgotten about that man. He slipped out of the side sitting room to search for him.
Sounds of footsteps descending the stairs echoed loudly into the lower floor. Flynn's eyes darted up to see John rushing down the creaky stairs, Lucy and Rufus close behind.
"I was right!" John announced as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "It's the water! It's completely contaminated!"
Flynn glanced passed the stairs into the narrow hallway. He didn't see Farr lingering about. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he inched closer to the hallway.
"We must hurry," John said, interrupting Flynn's thoughts. "The sooner we can fix the water source, the sooner we can stop this from spreading!"
Flynn watched as John tried to bolt out the front door. He grabbed the man's arm, pulling him back. "Wait a minute!"
Just as he said those words, gunfire rained down onto the building. The gun bursts lit up the evening outside the front of the house. Lucy shrieked, shielding her head with her hands as she darted to find cover. Rufus grabbed her, guiding her to a safe place.
Flynn and John fell to the ground, slinking away from the flying debris from the gunfire. The windows in the front rooms shattered onto the floor. The door became riddled with holes as the wood splinters flew into the air.
In the other room, Wyatt had grabbed the Rittenhouse agent by the back of the collar, holding his gun against his back. He didn't want the man to escape. He shouted over the noise, "Tell them to hold their fire!"
"Why would I do that?" the man spat. Wyatt jerked him forward. The man added, "Even if they were my people, why would they listen to me?"
"You're saying that's not your people shooting at us?" Wyatt questioned.
The man glared at Wyatt. Before Wyatt realized what was happening, the man broke free of Wyatt's grasp and bolted for the door. The gunfire continued to pour into the house, preventing Wyatt from capturing the man again.
The man darted by the rest of the team who were cowered in their cover and threw the front door open. The gunfire paused for a moment, allowing the team to watch as the Rittenhouse agent fled the scene.
"Everyone okay?" Wyatt shouted from his hiding place in the side room.
Flynn's eyes darted to the open front door. He continued to wait for the gunfire to resume but the night had become deathly quiet. He crawled on his stomach toward the others. He could see Rufus and Lucy hunkered down behind the banister of the stairs.
"All clear here," he announced to Wyatt.
Wyatt carefully maneuvered his way over to the rest in the foyer. His eyes met Flynn's. "What was that?"
Flynn picked himself up off the floor, sitting on his heels as he shook his head. "I think it's safe to say that Rittenhouse is trying to stop Mr. Snow from achieving his goal."
"Where's Farr?" Wyatt asked.
"Farr was here?" Lucy asked, suddenly alert.
Flynn shook his head, ignoring Lucy. "He's not here."
Rufus cleared his throat. "Do you think he's part of Rittenhouse?"
The team exchanged glances. "Makes sense," Wyatt admitted.
John finally pulled himself out of his hiding place. "What's Rittenhouse?"
The team turned their attention over to the man. They had no way of explaining it to him. Instead, Lucy asked, "Mr. Snow, now that you know what's causing the outbreak, what do you suggest we do?"
John's face melted into a stunned expression. "I almost forgot about that!" He bolted to his feet. "Hurry! We must go straight away to the hospital!"
The team helped one another to their feet before following the man out of his bullet-ridden home.
The hospital nearby had been overfilled with cholera stricken people. Those who couldn't be placed in a bed were laid on the floor with a blanket - they lined the hallways and even the steps outside. The doctors and their assistants wore masks over their faces, trying to keep themselves from getting sick. The smell of death and the disease struck all the members of the team, including John hard. Rufus had doubled over to throw up.
John choked back the bile in his throat as he ran up the stone steps of the hospital, the team hurried to catch up. The moment John entered the building, his eyes scanned the cramped room. When his eyes landed on the head doctor, he made a beeline over. "Stop what you are doing!"
"I beg your pardon!" the doctor spat. "You cannot come in here and-"
"The water is the source of this illness," John began to say, talking over the man. "You must boil the water before giving it to the sick."
"Boiled water?" a familiar voice laughed behind them. "What a preposterous suggestion, even for you, John Snow!"
"Did he just say, 'you know nothing, Jon Snow' but in an Old English sort of way?" Rufus muttered. Lucy tilted her head slightly, confirming the statement.
Everyone's eyes turned to see William Farr and two men in bowler hats standing close by. Farr shook his head, a smirk on his face. "I'm afraid you'll have to do better than just boiling water if you're hoping to end this outbreak."
"You're correct," John stated. "We will need to close that water pump and dig a fresh well, far enough away from the contaminated section, and install a brand new pump-"
Farr laughed, his fat belly jiggling as he did so. "You're a fool, Snow."
Snow balled his fists together. "I have the evidence to prove it."
Wyatt watched Farr carefully. When John admitted to the evidence, Wyatt pointed out, "But you already knew that, didn't you?" Farr's eyes narrowed at Wyatt. He added, "That's why you showed up at John's house a couple of hours ago."
"You were at my house?" John gasped.
"I wouldn't be too surprised if he was responsible for the attack that took place there," Wyatt stated.
Farr chuckled. "You don't have proof."
Flynn pointed casually to the men behind Farr. "Except they're wearing the same hats as the men who attacked us."
Farr sucked his teeth. "Fine, we attacked you."
The head doctor had been listening to all of this unfold. "Would someone please tell me what is going on here?"
Farr cleared his throat. "This man believes he has found the cure to our deadly outbreak," he said, shooting John a quick, yet stern glance. "I am here to tell you that his mind is filled with fanciful fits of delusion!"
"How dare you!" John spat.
The doctor held his hands up to stop both of them. "Enough! I've not the time to deal with this! Please leave my hospital now!"
Lucy quickly blurted out, "I'm a nurse!" When the group fell silent to stare at her in bewilderment, she swallowed nervously. "I'm a nurse and I have witnessed Mr. Snow's accounts of this disease. He is speaking the truth."
The doctor studied her for a moment before turning his attention back to John. "Show me your findings," he said. "But please, be quick. We mustn't delay." John gave Lucy a quick nod of thanks for leaving with the doctor.
Farr's eyes narrowed angrily at Lucy. "A nurse, you say?" Lucy shifted uncomfortably in her place. "You realize that posing as something you aren't is punishable by death?"
"So what will happen to you?" Wyatt challenged. "Because we know you're Rittenhouse."
The corners of Farr's lips started to turn up into a smile. He turned his heated gaze over to Wyatt. "And what of it? You're too late."
"For what?" Wyatt asked. "What's your plan here? Wipe out London with cholera?"
"Something like that," Farr admitted. "You're too late, you know. The stage has been set and the plan is in motion."
Wyatt's blue eyes narrowed at him. "What plan is that?" Farr smirked, shaking his head. Wyatt added, "You afraid that your plan might still fail or are you bluffing? I'm thinking it's the latter."
Farr spat, "You're too late...We've already contaminated several drinking taps!" He lowered his voice, stepping closer. "We have men on the way to the Queen... it won't be long before all of the water sources here are contaminated. It doesn't matter what he does," he motioned over to John, "because all of London is about to go under."
"Why?" Lucy asked. "What do you gain from killing all of these people?"
Farr laughed. "You don't get it... I guess you're just too far behind the rest of us."
"What are you talking about?" Rufus asked.
Farr cleared his throat. "We will seize control of the monarchy. This is our chance...and for once, you're unable to stop it."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Rufus stated, eyes transfixed on the movement behind Farr and his men.
Farr laughed, belly jiggling again. "I am not falling for such a juvenile trick." John and the doctor approached the group, eyes wide, staring passed Farr and his men. Farr laughed.
The doctor said, "You honor us with your presence." He bowed his head slightly. "What news from the Queen?" Farr whirled around to see some of the palace guards and the liaison for the Queen standing behind him.
"The Queen wished to know the truth of these dire circumstances," the liaison stated, eyeing Farr suspiciously. The team hoped the liaison had overheard Farr's plan
John was quick to speak. "I believe I have found the cause of this illness."
Wyatt added, pointing to Farr and his men, "And these men are trying to spread it. They just admitted that to us not long before you entered."
The liaison's eyes drifted over to Farr. He snapped his fingers and the guards with him surrounded Farr and his men. "We will investigate this further. Until then," he turned back to John. "Please, proceed in your explanation."
The team watched as John, the doctor, and the liaison headed to the table that had been set up much like John's study. John could be seen explaining how he came to find his answers, showing the results through their microscope.
It wasn't much longer before the liaison shook John's hand. They exchanged a few more pleasantries before they looked over at Farr. The liaison nodded, turning from John and heading back to his men. He nodded to his guards, who promptly took Farr and his men under arrest.
Wyatt flashed a half-smirk in the man's direction as they watched them being carted off by the Queen's guard.
John returned to the group. "I owe you all a debt of gratitude. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have been able to save London."
Lucy smiled at him. "What will you do now?"
"Replace the water pumps, clean the sources," he listed. "We will also send out notices to the people, informing them how to clean their water."
The doctor tapped John on the shoulder. "Let us be off."
John nodded, before turning his attention back to the group. "I must go."
The team stood there, watching as John and the doctor left. Wyatt asked, "What happens to him?"
"His health declines and he suffers a stroke in 1858...never recovers," Lucy stated. "But they erect a monument for all of his efforts here where the old pump sits."
Wyatt wrapped his arm around her shoulders, smiling at her. "Let's get the hell out of here."
"Hell yes!" Rufus sighed. "I'm ready to get out of here. I'll probably shower for days."
Lucy chuckled, wrapping her arm around Wyatt's waist.
Present Day
The moment the team climbed out of the Lifeboat, Rufus asked, "Can we discuss this later? I'd like to make sure I get as clean as possible!"
"What happened?" Agent Christopher asked, unsure what his reasoning was.
"Oh, nothing much," Flynn began. "Just reenacting Love in the Time of Cholera."
"I've never read it," Denise admitted. Flynn wasn't surprised.
Lucy started to fill her in. "We met with John Snow who was responsible for discovering the reason for the contamination."
"Winter is coming!" Rufus shouted as he practically raced down the hallway to the bathroom.
Lucy rolled her eyes. Denise asked, "What was Rittenhouse's goal here?"
Wyatt sighed. "Infect everyone and seize control of the crown."
"You can't be serious?" Denise scoffed. "Did they succeed?"
Lucy shrugged. "I'd have to do some research to be sure-"
"Yeah," Wyatt added. "I should check in with Tenley and make sure that we're all safe from contamination." The room fell deathly silent by Wyatt's statement. His eyes darted around those still in the room before recognition washed over his face. "I...completely forgot...I honestly felt like she was standing here."
Flynn swallowed his retort. He felt the same as Wyatt. Something was lingering in the air that just made him believe that Tenley had been standing in the room with them.
Denise nodded. "Get cleaned up. I'll see what I can find out about your risk of exposure."
The team broke off from the main living area, dreaming of hot showers. Denise watched them as they left. For the first time in quite a while, Lucy and Wyatt were back to their old lovey-dovey selves, walking together, holding each other.
Flynn seemed distracted still. She knew it had to be about the missing doctor. She wanted to provide some kind of reassurances to him but there was nothing she could do. She hadn't experienced nor knew what had taken place when the doctor vanished. There was no rulebook to guide her on the matter. Even Mason had nothing to offer up in support, let alone theories.
Flynn couldn't shake this feeling that hung around him like a cloud. There was that undeniable air that made him believe that Tenley was back. It was a gut feeling - one he simply couldn't push from his mind. The fact that Wyatt had felt the same way didn't help matters. He and Wyatt rarely saw eye to eye on things.
He turned and pushed the door to the infirmary open. His heart dropped into his stomach when he found it empty. His tired eyes scanned the room one more time, hoping that she had been standing in the corner and he simply missed her upon first glance. The dark cloud started to loom overhead as he realized that she wasn't back where she belonged.
1942
"Miss?" a muffled voice spoke out in the darkness. "Miss?"
There was a heaviness pushing down her body. Dust and dirt filled her lungs, causing her to cough heavily. She groaned as she felt the weight lifting from her body.
"We got a live one over here!" the voice shouted, no longer sounding far away. The hands were back on her, gently grasping her arms. "Are ye all right?"
Slowly, she opened her brown eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the bright daylight. Her head was throbbing. There was a slight ringing in her ears that began to fade away. She blinked a couple more times, coughing the dust out of her lungs.
The man knelt before her, helping her sit up. His dark eyes narrowed on her brow, studying the wound she had. He glanced down the rest of her body. "Are ye hurt?" The woman opened her mouth to speak but her voice hitched. "It's okay... we'll get ye out of here, don't ye worry."
He waved to some men off to the side. The woman glanced at the men before her. They were wearing matching light green uniforms. She saw the American flag patch on their arms. Two of the men had red cross bands around their opposite arms and on the bags that hung from their shoulders.
They slipped their arms under hers and helped her to her shaky feet. "Where am I?" she whispered, braving the question.
When they arrived at the awaiting Jeep, the man who found her helped get her situated in the front seat. "Ye're going to be all right," he told her, accent thick as he spoke quickly. "I promise that we'll get ye out of here and back home."
Her mind raced as she tried to think of where she was. Then a terrifying realization struck her to the core. She didn't know who she was, let alone where she was from.
The man saw the fear creep up on her expression. He reached forward and gently grabbed her face with his calloused hands to stare into her eyes. She studied his features. His thick brown hair fell across his high forehead, lingering just at the brow. His cheeks bore stubble from unshaven days. "I know ye're scared but I will do everything I can to get ye home." He leaned forward and whispered, "To yer own time."
The woman blinked at him, confusion more apparent. He offered a small smile as he jumped into the back of the Jeep and the driver took off.
The ride in the Jeep didn't take long but in the mind of a person who had no idea what was going on, it felt like forever. When the Jeep stopped, the man in the backseat hopped out, helping the woman climb out. He led her into an old church.
There were more men with red crosses affixed to their uniforms bustling to and fro as they helped wounded men in the same uniform. The woman realized that the church was a makeshift hospital in the middle of a warzone. Her mind raced again, trying to remember who they were at war with and what year it was.
Once inside, the man with the accent knelt before her again. "I'm sorry we didn't find ye sooner," he whispered. "There are others who-"
Before he could finish his sentence, a female voice behind him spoke up, "I thought I told you to stay out of this."
The two glanced up to see a beautiful woman in the same green uniform. Her red hair cascaded down her shoulder in a large braid. The freckles on her face were prominent against her pale features. A sour expression lingered on her face as she glared down at the man. "She belongs to us."
The woman glanced between the fiery red-headed woman and the accented man who helped her. She didn't understand what was taking place.
The man shook his head. "I'm the one who found 'er-"
"We told you to stay out of it," the woman repeated sharply. "What do you think they would say about your interference?"
The man turned his back to the red-haired woman, kneeling back before her. "Listen," he whispered. "Don't forget who saved ye on this day."
"Where are you going?" the woman asked, suddenly afraid.
He gave her a short smile. "No far, I promise ye that." He gave her a quick wink before standing up once more. He muttered something to the red-haired woman before he left the church.
The red-haired woman examined her. "Do you remember me?" The girl shook her head. "I'm Emma. I was sent to look for you."
"Emma?" the woman repeated. The name felt familiar to her but she couldn't remember why. "What happened to me?"
"What do you remember?" Emma asked, studying the girl. The expression of annoyance still lingered on her face. It was evident that she didn't want to be there.
She shook her head. "Cold...dark...being all alone. Waking up in the rubble...coming here..."
Emma gave her a sympathetic smile before reaching her hand out. "I'm here to bring you home."
"Where's home?"
"I think your mother would like to explain that to you."
"My mother?" Her head was beginning to swim with the information that was coming at her.
Emma nodded. "She'll explain everything to you."
The girl reached out and took Emma's hand which was chilled to the touch, as she stood up from the cot. "I...I just don't remember..."
Emma led her out of the church and down the lane. "She's going to be quite happy to see that you're alive. We were all very worried about you." The emphasis on the word 'very' created a sense of unease in the woman's mind as she walked beside Emma.
The two turned into a caved-in building. Sitting amongst the rubble was a big white ball with a door in the middle, blue lights illuminating the rings around it.
The girl gasped. "What is that?"
"Your ride home," Emma stated, boredom dripping from her voice.
The door opened and another woman emerged from the machine. She hopped out and rushed forward, embracing the girl tightly, who grew rigid from the sudden gesture. "Oh! I'm so glad to see that you're okay!"
The woman's blonde hair was neatly curled and slightly pinned back. Her blue eyes shined down at the girl. She kissed her cheek and said, "Let's get you home."
The girl hesitated. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled warmly as Emma brushed by to get into the machine behind them. "I'm Carol Preston - your mother...and I'm so very happy that you're alive, Amy."
