I bet you all thought I would never update this again...SURPRISE!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)


"You have to send the troops – you have to do this raid tonight." Lucy implored Colonel Montgomery passionately. With no way of contacting Wyatt or Rufus and Harriet Tubman off on a suicide mission to do this raid on her own, Lucy was desperate. She had all but barged into his headquarters, demanding to speak to him when she was told Harriet Tubman had left for the Combahee that morning and now, agitated and pacing, she was willing to do just about anything to see this raid through.

But first, she needed an Army.

"I will do no such thing." Colonel Montgomery answered her sharply. "Those soldiers you saw out there in the street today were the surviving members of my reconnaissance team. They were overwhelmed by the Rebs just this morning…and if I know Colonel Ryerson, he'll be well-entrenched and waiting for us before we can even get two yards up the Combahee…which, I might add, is covered in mines!"

"He's got inside information…we have reason to believe he's been given forewarning of every Union engagement since…since he gained his command." Lucy explained.

"You think he's got a spy in the Union army?" Colonel Montgomery asked in surprise as he puffed on his pipe.

Lucy exchanged a look with Flynn, "Possibly. I mean, how else can you explain his record?" she asked with a shrug.

Colonel Montgomery chuckled darkly, "Luck."

"Well, where we come from, we don't believe in luck." Flynn answered in annoyance.

"Where do you come from?" Colonel Montgomery asked with interest. "Your accent…"

"Prussia." Flynn answered with a bow. "I came here as an official military observer for the Prussian Government…that is, before General McClellan enlisted me to act as an advisor."

"Ah…you must be the man we have to thank for those amazing new saddles." Colonel Montgomery said with an enthusiastic nod. "Best damn thing I've seen in years."

Flynn nodded with a bow and Lucy couldn't help but be impressed. Whatever Flynn's self-deprecating remarks about his knowledge of the Civil War, knowing that General McClellan had become so enamored with the Prussian saddles used by these visiting dignitaries that he purchased them for his Army was not something that was widely known – it was the perfect cover…and immediately garnered them more respect from Colonel Montgomery.

Noting this, Lucy nodded to Flynn, encouraging him to continue to plead their case, "I understand you only have about 300 men here…" Flynn remarked with a frown, "give or take a few…but there is still time to gather reinforcements…"

"I can't risk any more of my men." Colonel Montgomery said with a shake of his head, "Not without official orders."

"Then let us go." Lucy pleaded desperately. She bent over his desk and observed the map, "There must be someone who can..."

"What about Colonel Porter?" Flynn asked quietly, looking at the map. "Looks like he's just there on the other side of Port Royal."

"Yes!" Lucy responded emphatically, "He was instrumental at the Battle of Fort Pulaski, wasn't he?" Colonel Montgomery nodded slowly as Lucy continued, "We could ride there in just under an hour. If we can get him to agree to join this raid, have him flank the Confederate troops on land, while you make the make the assault from the water…we could take them completely by surprise."

Colonel Montgomery studied over his map, doubt etched all over his features, "There's no telling how many Rebs are on the other side waiting for us…"

"There are 750 slaves working all along those river plantations who are willing to fight." Lucy answered passionately, "You're going to need those men for your assault on Fort Wagner next month and at Petersburg later on…"

Colonel Montgomery looked up at her in confusion and alarm, "How do you kn…"

"I know what I'm talking about." Lucy said with a definitive nod. "Please, you just have to trust me. Harriet Tubman is too important. She needs your help…and you need her."

Colonel Montgomery eyed both Flynn and Lucy thoughtfully. "This is very irregular." he stated as he tugged on his beaded chin. With a heavy sigh, he took out a sheet of parchment and began scribbling down a letter, "I'll send my courier with you…don't know that it will do much good. Colonel Porter is due to travel west any day now to convene with the Western Army near Chattanooga."

"I realize that." Lucy answered with bated breath, "But…if we can just convince him…"

If Colonel Porter agrees," Colonel Montgomery interrupted nodding to Lucy while motioning to his courier, "and that's a might big IF…you send him straight back to me with his answer…we'll need every last minute we can spare to navigate these waters safely.

"Indeed." Flynn remarked as he bowed out of Colonel Montgomery's tent. As Lucy mounted her horse triumphantly, Flynn turned in his saddle and leaned towards her, "I don't mean to rain on your parade," he whispered as the courier prepared his horse, "but in order for this plan to work, that pontoon bridge needs to be intact."

"I know." Lucy breathed out uncomfortably, "We can only hope that Wyatt and Rufus…" She swallowed hard thinking of the dangerous situation they were probably in, surrounded as they were by Confederates. Taking a steadying breath to quell her mounting nerves, Lucy looked to Flynn, "If the Rebel army has regained control of that area, chances are they weren't able to take out the bridge…and if it is gone…well, we'll just have to manage the best we can from the West bank of the Combahee and hope for the best."

Flynn eyed her skeptically, "That's if this Colonel Porter agrees." He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle as he asked awkwardly, "Do you think he's going to be willing to drop everything, change his own orders and send his troops into harm's way? Before they're meant to?" Flynn added with a meaningful look towards Lucy.

"Colonel Porter will receive the Medal of Honor for his bravery at the Battle of Chickamauga later this year." Lucy answered with a haughty toss of her head, "After the war, he'll serve as President Grant's personal secretary…as well as Ambassador to France. He's not one to miss an opportunity for greatness. I think between the two of us, we can convince him to come along."

"Maybe it's better if he doesn't come along." Flynn muttered, "Grant's personal secretary…hmmm…wasn't he involved in one of Grant's many scandals?"

"Horace Porter was never charged with any wrong-doing." Lucy maintained unconcernedly, "In fact, he refused to take a $500,000 bribe from Jay Gould during the gold scam."

Flynn nodded before turning to her again with a doubtful smile, "Maybe he was just a little wiser than the others…you know, President Grant had one of the most corrupt presidential cabinets in American history…"

"He was no politician." Lucy explained with a shrug, "so he surrounded himself with them. You have to remember that Grant was the son of a shop keeper…a failure in life in just about everything except marriage…and well, commanding the army. He was a blue-collar man thrust into a white-collar world. He only got into West Point because his father sent a letter to their State Representative. When a spot happened to open up in 1839, Representative Hamer nominated Grant for admittance into the academy. Probably one of the most fateful moments in his life."

"If I remember correctly, he wasn't much of a student…" Flynn remarked with a smirk.

"No." Lucy acknowledged, "He graduated near the bottom of his class…but he never was an academic. He spent more time reading novels than doing his school work…but obviously, he had a knack for military command. So many people discounted him because of his blue-collar up-bringing and less than stellar grades, but he proved them wrong time and time again."

"He was just the son of a tanner, right?" Flynn chuckled. "With an affinity for cigars, whiskey…"

"…and winning battles." Lucy added with a smile as she urged her horse forward, following Colonel Montgomery's courier. "He wasn't like so many of the others whose fathers were prominent men of wealth and society. I doubt any of them would consider him a gentleman," she added with a derisive laugh, "But after the war those same men flocked around him looking to gain something from his popularity."

"And they did, didn't they?" Flynn asked with a knowing look. "His administration was filled with men he served with…riding on his coat tails for a chance to make something more of themselves."

"Yes…and like I said, unfortunately many of those people he trusted took advantage of his inexperience in the world of politics. Wait a minute," she paused as she stopped her horse and looked at Flynn, "That wouldn't have been why you tried to kill him in 1865, would it?"

Flynn shrugged with a frown, "Of course. Grant's Administration was the moment in history when Rittenhouse entered the American political system en masse. His presidency aside, after Grant you have the rise of the Stalwarts on the Republican side and the rise of Tammany Hall on the Democratic side…"

"Yes, well, the Gilded Age and the rise of the robber barons gave us a lot of that…but killing Grant? You really think that would've made a difference? Why not just save Lincoln?"

"Because John Wilkes Booth would've taken issue with that." Flynn answered with a chuckle.

"I seem to remember you being the one to pull the trigger." Lucy said as she set her horse to trotting again.

"Only because he was a damned fool…" Flynn said defensively as he urged his horse after her, "insisted on using the Derringer for dramatics…he could have taken out the whole damn box if he would've just listened to me."

"I was in that box." Lucy reminded him with a meaningful glare, before sighing in annoyance, "So instead, you chose to murder two people who had nothing to do with Rittenhouse…"

"Look," Flynn said angrily, "I didn't write history…I just picked the ideal time to target Grant, so that he couldn't stupidly pack the government full of Rittenhouse bastards." Lucy shook her head in disagreement as Flynn continued to argue his case, "The war was over, he was supposed to be targeted at this play…his death would've…"

"You have no idea what his death would've meant for the history of our government. You don't think Rittenhouse wouldn't have found someone else? You don't think they wouldn't have forced themselves into these positions some other way?"

"As I said…Rittenhouse gained a massive foothold on our government during Grant's administration…all I cared about was making sure that didn't happen."

"You should know by now," Lucy said with a heavy sigh as she turned to offer Flynn a pointed look, "Rittenhouse always has a backup plan. Always."


It had taken several hours of sneaking past sentries, hiding in dug out shelters and traveling around the Confederate encampment before Harriet Tubman had led them to the safe haven that was the slave cabins at Middleton plantation. Wyatt couldn't help but marvel at how well she navigated the area; she knew the ins and outs of every field, every farm and every country road they passed without once looking at a map. She seemed to have a sixth sense about where the Confederates were and when it was safe to move on. He knew, without a doubt, that there was no way hell he would've been able to do the same…meeting Harriet Tubman had been a stroke of good luck…and he only hoped it would keep for the raid that evening.

If there even was a raid.

Wyatt, beyond impressed with the woman he had only read about, peppered her with all sorts of questions, trying to figure out how she came to be here, when he knew, according to Lucy, that she was supposed to be with Colonel Montgomery in Beaufort. "Forgive me, ma'am, but I was told you were going to be helping out with the raid tonight, not doing reconnaissance."

She eyed him curiously for a long while before responding slowly, "That was the plan, yes…but when we heard that the Rebs had pushed our boys out of the Lowcountry early this morning, I took my scouts and went to have a look for myself…see what we were up against." She shook her head, "You saw what happened…them poor boys didn't have a chance against all them Confederates."

"But shouldn't you go back? Shouldn't you tell Colonel Montgomery what happened?"

She shook her head, "There ain't no use. He as good as told me this morning that the raid was done for…my job is what it has always been…to lead my people to freedom…and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Alone?" Rufus asked incredulously, "how do you expect to free 750 people to freedom without some kind of help?"

"The Lord sent you, didn't he?" she asked Rufus with a smile.

Rufus shifted uncomfortably as he looked to Wyatt, "I…I don't…I mean…" he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, "there are only about a half a dozen of us here…"

"Like you said," she answered with a nod, "once we free our brothers and sisters we'll be a lot more."

"But they're unarmed," Rufus explained, "fighting soldiers…with guns."

"And I would give every drop of my blood to free them" she said passionately, "What about you?" she asked Rufus pointedly, "What are you fighting for if not for this?"

Never before had Rufus felt so utterly ashamed of himself. Here he was cowering in the face of true greatness. This small woman, who was in fact, larger than life…bravely facing the odds without one thought to her own safety…but what she didn't understand was that it was her safety he was most concerned about. "You cannot die." Rufus blurted out passionately, "You are too important…to history…to me…to every black person alive from now until the next 150 years…

She shook her head with a smile, "Now I know the Lord sent you…he told me you was coming...in a dream."

Rufus stared back at her blankly, "What…what do you mean?" he stammered.

"I have had dreams as long as I can remember." she answered with a pensive smile, "When I'm having a spell, it's like my spirit travels out of me…searching for His voice. He shows me the path…what I've got to do."

"And…and God told you to do this raid on your own…even with the odds stacked against you?" Rufus asked disbelievingly. "What if…what if He's wrong? What if what was supposed to happen, doesn't happen because…I don't know…"

"You think I question the Good Lord's wisdom?" she asked him incredulously, "Look, there's two things I got a right to: death and liberty. One or the other, I means to have."

"You're not afraid?" Rufus asked in a quiet voice.

"You're a fool if you ain't…but I'll stick my rifle in fear's ugly face anyway." she said with a reassuring smile. "Now," she added with a nod towards Wyatt, "you told me you had friends in Beaufort?"

Wyatt nodded, "Yes, ma'am…at least, I hope they got there safely. I know they're going to do everything they can to get you some help…but Rufus is right, it won't be worth anything if we can't keep you safe."

"Don't you worry about me." she dismissed with a wave of her hand, "I ain't afraid to die…"

"This isn't a question of bravery." Wyatt said seriously, "You're important…to a lot of people and we can't risk losing you." He sighed heavily, "Listen, our friends in Beaufort…they're not gonna let us down…I know it…one way or another, they'll see that this raid happens." Rufus looked at Wyatt nervously as he continued, "You may not want to depend on that, but…"

"We can't depend on that." Harriet Tubman said with a shake of her head, "you seem to be a smart fella, I think between you and me we can come up with something that will give these Rebs a run for their money…and then if your friends do come through, well…it'll be a rout."

Wyatt wished he had concrete knowledge of what was happening with Lucy and Flynn, but he knew that Harriet Tubman was right. It was best to plan for what they absolutely knew and then take everything else as it came. He sat chatting with her for some time, while field hands would come in from time to time, giving her the position of the Confederate army on this side of the river.

Their plan wasn't much, but it didn't need to be. The Confederate Army was positioned and waiting for the Union boats on both sides of the river…just as they had feared. The good news was that though the Confederates outnumbered Colonel Montgomery's troops 5 to 1, they weren't very well entrenched. The swampy landscape made such measures difficult and as the the Confederate army was essentially split in two, it gave them a bit of an advantage. If they hit Colonel Ryerson's men on their side of the river, there was no way the Confederates on the other side would be able to assist their brothers in arms.

Well not immediately, anyway.

"What about the pontoon bridge?" Rufus asked with a frown after Wyatt briefed him , "You know we were supposed to take that damn thing out."

"We can't do that now." Wyatt explained in annoyance, "the Confederates are already here…that bridge doesn't matter anymore…

"You can't take it out or you won't take it out?" Rufus asked pointedly, "You think I don't know that that bridge is the only way Lucy and Flynn are getting over here if this raid fails?" Rufus scoffed, "I may not be Delta Force, but I can read a damn map."

Wyatt sighed as he threw his head back in exasperation, "It's not just Lucy, Rufus…" he began but Rufus shook his head in disbelief, "It's not." Wyatt maintained. "Look around you…these people are supposed to make their escape to freedom on those damn boats. If they don't show up, what happens to them, huh? Their only way out of here is on that pontoon bridge. It has to stay."

"And what happens when the rest of Ryerson's men come charging across it when they realize what's happening over here?" Rufus snapped impatiently.

"Rufus…" Wyatt breathed out in frustration.

"No," he continued passionately, "I get it, we're in a tough spot…but look around you, Wyatt. Men, women and children…they're not soldiers. They don't have rifles…hell, they don't have much that could even pass for a weapon. If we go after the Confederate army, guns blazing…what happens to them?"

"What the hell do you suggest we do, Rufus? Sit around here and do nothing while Rittenhouse changes history?" Wyatt hissed. "Lucy and Flynn…"

"We don't even know if Lucy and Flynn made it to Beaufort." Rufus snapped. "Hell, they could have been kil…"

"Don't you dare say it, Rufus." Wyatt warned, "Lucy is fine. She's working on a plan to fix things on her end…I know she is."

Rufus looked at him skeptically, "Okay, well say she does fix things on her end and Montgomery does show up…how the hell are we going to find them? She told us to meet her at the pontoon bridge…and even if she did need it to cross, we're nowhere near that thing. What if she and Flynn think we've been killed and head back to the Lifeboat and initiate the damn auto pilot? We'll be stranded here…in 1863…in the South."

"We survived 1754, didn't we?" Wyatt said with a smirk, but Rufus was not amused.

"You think this is funny?" he hissed, "do I have to remind you that we were almost killed on that mission?"

"Lighten up, Rufus," Wyatt breathed out, "I was just making a joke, alright? Look, I know Lucy better than anyone…and I know she's not going to give up on this…she's not going to give up on us." He nodded at Rufus meaningfully, "She's not going to leave us here…she would never do that."

With that final resolve, Rufus begrudgingly allowed Wyatt to fill him in on the role he was destined to play in this desperate and crazy scheme to beat Rittenhouse at their own game. It was just the two of them –essentially - against an entire Confederate Army. The two of them charged to protect Harriet Tubman and see that 750 slaves made it safely to freedom….no big deal, right? Rufus groaned as he thought of what would happen if they failed.

"…when you see my signal, you set fire to those fields out there." Wyatt ended with a sigh as Harriet came back into the cabin to hand Rufus a change of clothes, "It might be enough of a distraction to give us a chance to get the hell out of here before more of those soldiers show up."

"You mightn' not need no fire." Harriet remarked glibly, jerking her chin towards the window, "we set off a few of them mines out there in that river, it'll be plenty nuff distraction. The whole army will be sitting here a waiting for Colonel Montogomery not paying any heed about what we be doing."

"Those mines have to be blown before Colonel Montgomery gets near them." Wyatt warned, "We can't risk…"

"Don't you worry about that." Harriet promised. "I's been watching these Rebs for a long time and reporting what I seen back to the Colonel. He knows enough about where those mines are to make it down the river. Now," she said turning to Wyatt, "you best get changed, boy. It'll be dark soon and you don't want to be taken for a deserter. I'll show you the best way to get to the camp from where these boys do their washing up. They won't be none the wiser."

As Wyatt went to change into his stolen Confederate uniform, Rufus stopped him, "What are the odds we actually pull this thing off?" he asked nervously.

"I don't know, Rufus." Wyatt sighed out in exasperation, "we just need to take care of this damn sleeper…we'll worry about the rest later."


The evening sun was already beginning to sink in the sky by the time Lucy and Flynn arrived at Port Royal, something that already had her more than a little anxious. They were going to need to convince Colonel Porter to assist Colonel Montgomery, wait, while he mustered his troops, and make their way back to Beaufort before nightfall.

Time wasn't on their side.

The Union encampment was on the far side of the coastal town, which was itself situated on a peninsula in the Port Royal Sound, an inlet of the Atlantic and estuary for all the rivers flowing into that Southeastern region of South Carolina. It was a strategic position, one that the Union army would use as a base of operations for the siege of Charleston and the Battles for Fort Wagner later that year. If Rittenhouse was successful in whatever they were doing here, however, Beaufort, Port Royal, Charleston…even Vicksburg could all be lost.

As they made their way through the Old Village, Lucy could not shake the feeling of foreboding that seemed to hover over the town. Maybe it was the dark and winding streets lined with twisted and gnarled trees dripping with Spanish Moss…maybe it was the shuttered and ransacked homes, unlit and unwelcoming amid the setting sun, or…maybe it was just the unsettling knowledge that if they weren't successful here, history could change in a way she couldn't even begin to imagine.

"You're awfully quiet." Flynn spoke up, his voice just barely above a whisper.

"This place is giving me the creeps." Lucy admitted as she cast an uneasy glance over her shoulder, "This is supposed to be a Union stronghold…but where is everybody?"

Flynn frowned, "Didn't you say they were supposed to be encamped just outside the town?"

"Yes…but…" Lucy looked around at the nearly deserted streets, "this doesn't seem right…I mean, shouldn't it be like how it was in Beaufort? Shouldn't there be…I don't know…things going on? People walking around?"

"I think you're letting your imagination get the best of you." Flynn said with a nod towards the church yard, "See there? People."

Lucy turned her head to see a quiet gathering of mostly women who turned and stared at them blankly as they rode slowly past them. Since their cold and vacant expressions did very little to ease her present discomfort, Lucy offered them a meek smile and a wave, hoping that some semblance of a greeting might be returned and thereby make her feel a bit less anxious, but no such welcome was offered. The women simply turned and huddled together once more, not even casting another glance towards Lucy and Flynn as they made their way towards the edge of the town.

"Real friendly, aren't they?" Lucy said with a shudder.

"Well," Flynn reasoned, "there is a war going on and these people…this town is currently being occupied by enemy forces. You can't expect them to be very cheerful, now can you?"

"I don't suppose so." Lucy muttered as she looked over her shoulder once more, "I'll just be happy when this mission is over with." She let out an anxious sigh, "If I only knew that Wyatt and Rufus were alright…"

"They'll be fine." Flynn said firmly. "Wyatt can take care of himself…and Rufus."

She knew Flynn was right; Wyatt had proven time and time again that he was more than capable of surviving even in the grimmest of circumstances. He had survived Rufus' poor attempt at surgery in 1865, he had somehow lived through the blast at Mason Industries, he had taken on all of Rittenhouse single-handedly just to save her…she knew…Wyatt was absolutely up to the task of seeing that he and Rufus made it through this mission safely.

Still, as they made their way towards the Union encampment, she was regretting more and more that they had separated.

When they finally reached the city limits and traveled onto the Union encampment beyond, Lucy's heart dropped to her stomach as she saw the soldiers packing up their encampment. "No, no….they can't leave yet." she breathed out, practically leaping off of her horse and making her way through the crowds of soldiers.

After making a few desperate inquiries, she found herself standing before Colonel Porter. He was a younger man, with a full mustache and a sharp goatee, and while Lucy knew he was a man of great ambition, she was taken aback by the air of importance he had about him.

Mere seconds after Colonel Montgomery's courier made the proper introductions, Lucy immediately begged for his help, "Sir, I have come here on a very important errand. The fate of the entire war could lay on your shoulders. You must help Colonel Montgomery. The Confederates have retaken a position along the Combahee river. If they regain a foothold…it could mean disaster for the rest of the war. Please…please you must help us. You're our only hope."

Colonel Porter seemed to puff up with more self-importance as she pleaded with him, but no sooner had Lucy decided he was a massive egotist, then he offered her a comforting smile as he took her hand in his, assuring her gently, "My dear lady, your passion does you credit. The North is quite fortunate to have you on her side. But as it is, I have orders…."

"I realize that." Lucy nodded, desperately, "but…"

"And if you realize that miss, you'll understand that ours is a solemn mission. The Confederates are gaining strength in Tennessee, Vicksburg remains as stalwart as ever….if we are to have any chance at winning this war, we must break the back of the Confederacy in the West. We must gain control of their supply lines."

"Yes…but…" Lucy began but it was no use…Colonel Porter dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

"I cannot go against my orders. General Rosencrans is expecting me and my men." He explained with a toss of his head. "As a woman, you can have no idea what is at stake…"

Angry now that she was being condescended to, Lucy bristled, "Don't think that I don't have an understanding of what is at stake here. I know more than you can possibly realize about what is at stake." Flynn made a weak attempt to calm her, but Lucy nudged him away, "Do you have any idea how important these waters are to the Union? I know the Mississippi is important…but so is South Carolina. Helping General Montgomery tonight will not only free hundreds of enslaved people…it will change the course of the war."

"Ha!" Colonel Porter barked, "How so? Grant is laying siege to Vicksburg as we speak, there's rumors Lee is going to attack the North…the nation's attention isn't on South Carolina, miss."

"If you don't help Colonel Montgomery tonight, it will be." she argued desperately. "Please," she begged, "please…you're the only one who can help us. Harriet Tubman herself is counting on this raid."

"The General?" Colonel Porter asked with raised eyebrows. "She's supporting Montgomery in this, is she? Hmmm…I should have known." He murmured thoughtfully to himself as he pulled out a small letter from his pocket. "She's been a great asset to us here, you know? Disabling mines, guiding us through these swamps…she may be small, but she's one of the bravest supporters of the Union cause."

"Yes." Lucy acknowledged, "And if you don't help her tonight…she could very well be killed, captured."

Colonel Porter considered her for a moment before opening up the letter in his hand and nodding, "Well, it seems I have no choice." Offering her the note, he explained, "I received this note from my commanding officer this morning…I had no idea what it could mean…until now."

Confused, Lucy took the note from his outstretched hand. On it, was scribbled three words: Save Harriet Tubman. Looking at Flynn, she shrugged, "Wh…How did you get this?"

"As I said, a courier brought it to me this morning." He explained with a slight shrug, "As it offered no explanation, I thought little of it…until now." Taking his quill, Colonel Porter sat at his small desk and scribbled out a response to Colonel Montgomery and handed it off to his courier, "Ride fast now, if I am to take my men into action, we'll need Montgomery's support from the river."

"You mean, you're going to help us?" Lucy gasped.

"I will do anything and everything in my power to see that we are victorious this day. More than just the war depends on it, it seems."

Lucy breathed out a sigh of relief, "Well, that…that's…thank you. Really. This will mean so much for the Union War effort and for the lives of hundreds of slaves."

"Always happy to do my duty." Colonel Porter returned with a slight bow, "I feel it is almost my personal obligation to carry forth the decree of emancipation…you know my Aunt was Mrs. Lincoln's grandmother?"

"Was she really?" Lucy asked in complete surprise, her brow furrowed in confusion, "I…I didn't know."

"That's surprising" Flynn quietly muttered to Lucy with a teasing smirk.

"You know, you remind me of her." Colonel Porter said with a soft smile, "Same tenacious nature, same passion for doing what's right," he eyed her admirably before adding, "you even resemble her somewhat…especially your eyes…quite similar." Flushing slightly at the compliment, Lucy shifted uncomfortably next to Flynn before Colonel Porter asked her with a bow, "Will you be joining us or will you return…I take it you are staying in Beaufort?"

"No." Lucy replied, "We arrived just for this raid…we got here as soon as we could when we heard about Colonel Ryerson's movements and what his intentions were."

"Ah yes, Ryerson…so many people underestimate him." Colonel Porter sighed as he began to ready himself, "I knew him at West Point. He was introduced to me by an old family friend, but that was hardly necessary. He was very popular, one of the brightest minds in our year." He quirked his lip in disappointment as he added glibly, "Shame he's fighting for the South, we could've used his brilliance for the Union."

It only took a few moments for Colonel Porter's troops to finish mustering before his entire force made a quick march back through the town, with Lucy and Flynn bringing up the rear. 'Well, that was easy." Flynn remarked as they made their way back through the town.

"It was, wasn't it?" Lucy mused, a look of deep concern on her face.

"What's wrong?" Flynn asked.

"I don't know…who could have possible sent him that note? And that last thing he said…about Colonel Ryerson…"

"What about it?" Flynn asked with a shrug, "We know Rittenhouse has placed sleepers in the past…"

"Yes, but…for how long? He would've had to have been very young." Lucy mused, "I mean, to get into West Point? He would have had to have been known…and to be well established enough to be introduced to someone like Colonel Porter?"

"And become a Colonel himself." Flynn reminded her, "Yes, he would have had to have gained the trust of many in order to do what he did…but of course, if he was aware of the enemy's movements beforehand…."

"His successes would have been attributed to his military brilliance, rather than what it actually was…" Lucy trailed off, her brow still furrowed in concern. "But who would've told him about Harriet Tubman? This is not how any of this is supposed to happen…his unit is supposed to be on reprieve right now."

"You were so worried that Colonel Porter wouldn't even agree to help us and now you're upset that he has?" Flynn asked her bemusedly. "Lucy, of course it isn't the same way it happened. Colonel Ryerson isn't supposed to be here…everything has changed." He chuckled lightly, "Just take it as a victory…with Rittenhouse, those can be few and far between."

"I guess you're right." Lucy said with a sigh, "I'm just being a little paranoid." She shrugged as she added with a scoff, "It's like Ryan Millerson in Darlington…Wyatt knew all about him, grew up with his posters on his wall…and he was Rittenhouse plant all along."

"Time travel, right?" Flynn replied with another chuckle.

Lucy was inclined to agree. All of this was simultaneously giving her a headache and a panic attack, and they still weren't finished with this mission.

When they finally arrived in Beaufort, Colonel Montgomery was already mustering his men in the streets of the town, preparing to board two steamships sitting idly in the nearby harbor. Colonel Porter urged his horse forward to address him warmly, "Colonel! I see you're out in full force! Should be one hell of an evening!"

"No thanks to you!" Colonel Montgomery replied, "I must say, getting your note this afternoon raised my spirits considerably. I was afraid we would lose all this ground we have held for close to two years now to those damned Rebs."

"The battle is not won yet." Colonel Porter reminded him, "We must be ever vigilant…if I know Ryerson, he'll have one or two tricks up his sleeve."

"That he will," Colonel Montgomery agreed, "he always seems to be two steps ahead of everyone else." Saluting, Colonel Montgomery took his leave from Colonel Porter and went back to ordering his troops onto the waiting boats and Lucy and Flynn stood by…praying they were not too late to stave off disaster.


Dressed in drab Confederate grey, Wyatt, following Harriet Tubman's instructions, made his way towards the Rebel encampment. Night had fallen and with it came sights and sounds that caused Wyatt more than a little discontentment.

The Confederates were everywhere.

On paper it had seemed far less threatening…hell, it had appeared to be more to their advantage. But now, as he made his way through the swampy reeds, seeing the shadows of hundreds of men, flanking him on both sides, hearing the eerie whoops of the infamous Rebel Yell as countless soldiers celebrated a victory not yet won…well, it wasn't exactly what he had had in mind when he plotted this whole thing.

Still, he had a job to do.

The Rittenhouse sleeper was here…leading the damn Confederate army…threatening to thwart the Union advances in the South and completely change the course of the Civil War…and he couldn't let that happen. Somehow or another he was going to have to find this Ryerson guy and take him out.

But how the hell was he supposed to do that with hundreds of soldiers looking on?

Yeah, he really hadn't thought that part through.

But, really, what other options were there?

Making his way through the encampment, he couldn't help but marvel at how familiar…and yet how unfamiliar the sights and sounds were. In his Army career he had been bivouacked more times than he cared to remember, left sleeping on the cold hard ground in random corners of countless countries…his gun at the ready. Here, in this sleepy South Carolinian wilderness, he was witnessing the same disgruntled expressions, the same grumblings…and yet the same anxious air of anticipation that preceded every firefight he had ever been in.

But this was a far cry from the 21st century.

These men didn't have the conveniences he was used to…even in the most remote of his assignments. Men here were playing cards by the firelight, puffing on pipes and eating hard tack. The gear they had was rudimentary at best and he noted, that many had had resorted to wrapping cloth on their feet in the absence of shoes. This was an army ill-supplied…morale should have been low, battles should not have been won…but yet, he knew…from the little history he had studied…that as it stood right now…it was the Union that was losing the war…and would lose it if he was not successful….to this. To this rag tag bunch of shoeless soldiers whose very uniforms were anything BUT uniform and whose spirits were, despite their physical griefs, remarkably high.

Wyatt, walking around in his uniform, was more out of place than one of the crowd, but he drew no one's notice, thankfully, as he made his way through the camp – the soldiers far too engrossed in their evenings pleasures to care too much about checking his credentials. He looked the part, and that was, apparently, enough for them.

He wandered the camp for some time before finally giving in and approaching a sentry leaning casually against his rifle next to an old sycamore tree. Nodding in greeting Wyatt began, "You know where I can find Colonel Ryerson? I've got a message for him from across the way there." he said pointing towards the river.

The soldier, hardly noticing him, shrugged his shoulders and pointed behind him, "He's set up at the big house up yonder. What," he added with a scoff, "you all reckon the Yankees are gonna attack tonight?"

"They might." Wyatt replied with a frown, "There's talk about a raid."

"That's all there ever is, is talk." came the lazy reply. "No telling why we aren't up in Beaumont or Port Royal chasing them damn Yanks outta South Carolina right now," he added as he slapped a mosquito on his neck, "stead of huddled up hear getting eaten alive…it's a wonder the whole camp doesn't have the fever." He studied Wyatt for a moment before observing, "You boys on t'other side got any sickness?"

"Not yet." Wyatt offered, though of course he had no idea.

"Jes wait. This heres the sick season in the Low Country." He explained, "Typhoid, smallpox, malaria…if one don't kill you, t'other will."

"I expect you're from around these parts then?" Wyatt offered.

"Thas, right." the soldier replied proudly. "Charleston…born and raised. What about you, where abouts you from?"

"Texas." Wyatt replied, happy to not have to come up with a lie for that one.

"Didn't know we had any Texas boys down here, I thought they was all up with General Lee?" Straightening up, he narrowed his eyes, truly looking at Wyatt for the first time since they had begun talking, "What unit you with, anyway?"

Dammit.

At a complete loss of what to say, Wyatt attempted to just move past the sentry, pretending like he hadn't heard his last question, but no sooner had he stepped forward, than bayoneted rifle blocked his path. "I guess I didn't hear you, boy." the sentry remarked, cooly, "Who you with?"

Wyatt was about to tell him to mind his own damn business when an oddly familiar voice sounded right behind him.

"He's with me, Sergeant."

It was one thing to have his dead wife of five years reappear suddenly after he had finally moved on with his life, it was quite another to see her standing before him in 1863, decked out in a hoop skirt and threading her arm through his. He gaped at her in disbelief. "J…Jessica?"

She laughed…and Wyatt felt a cold chill run down his spine. It was haughty and cold, nothing like the woman he once knew. Nevertheless, she tightened her grip on his arm and nodded, "We've been waiting for you…thought you must have gotten lost. Good thing I came out looking for you," she added with a cold glance towards the sentry, "who knows what kind of trouble you might have gotten yourself into?" Leading Wyatt past the guards she called back behind her, "As you were, soldiers."

A myriad of conflicting thoughts and emotions were running through Wyatt's mind, but at the moment he could only muster up enough cognitive willpower for one question. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Saving your life." Jessica answered haughtily. "No need to thank me, by the way."

"You know damn well that's not what I'm talking about." Wyatt replied angrily, before shaking his head, "I didn't want to believe it." Wyatt replied, his voice betraying his feelings, "When they told me you were Rittenhouse…"

"You say it like it's a bad thing." she replied with a scoff.

Wyatt stopped in his tracks and stared back at her incredulously, "Do you know what these people are? Huh? What they do? How could you…"

"What?" she challenged hotly, "You're the only one who can have secrets, is that it?" Wyatt let out a curse as she continued angrily, "Why can't you just be happy that I'm actually doing something meaningful with my life instead of serving up slop to a bunch of drunk assholes all day?" She scoffed, "You think that was my life's ambition? To just be a waitress?"

"You think that's all you were?" Wyatt replied quietly, "You think you didn't matter to me?"

"Oh come off it, Wyatt." Jessica replied with a roll of her eyes. "You were never around."

"So you sold out to Rittenhouse to get back at me, is that it?" Wyatt charged, "What did they do? Offer you a job? Money? How much did they pay you when they sent you to me with those divorce papers?" He demanded, "What, did they think I would just tell you everything? Is that it?"

"Wyatt…"

"How long?" How long have you been with them?"

Jessica folded her arms across her chest and stared back at Wyatt defiantly, "All of my life."

"Liar." Wyatt spat out in response. "The Jessica I know would never…"

"I am the Jessica you know." she replied in annoyance, "I'm the same woman you fell in love with, the same woman you married," Wyatt scoffed at that, "whether you want to believe that or not." she finished, casting him withering glare. "They made me who I am today...they gave me more opportunities..."

"To lie…and manipulate..." Wyatt muttered with a scoff.

"Oh come on, Wyatt, I haven't…"

"Oh yeah?" he snapped, "Why the hell did you draw up divorce papers two weeks before you found out I was alive?" He stared at her angrily as she shifted uncomfortably beside him, "If I was dead, Jessica - why the hell would you need a divorce, huh? What the hell was that about?"

"Did it ever occur to you that I had had those papers drawn up before that explosion?" Jessica groaned in exasperation. "That maybe, just maybe I was done with this marriage and all of your secrets before..."

"All of my secrets?"

"Yes, all of your secrets." Jessica maintained. "Everything about you was classified, Wyatt. Everything." She shook her head at him as he stared back at her, "You never talked about anything. Not your work, not your missions...and anytime things got hard, you'd leave...that's what you excelled at. Leaving."

"Jess, I..." Wyatt stammered, but he had no defense. He knew she was right. Hell, hadn't he beaten himself over that very thing for five damn years? How many times had he wished that he had spent less time focusing on his career and more time on the life they were trying to make together? How many times had he wished they could have talked more? That he could have been a better husband to her? And she was right, wasn't she? He did leave when things got hard. Hell, he left her on the side of the damn road. Blinking back tears, Wyatt shook his head and sighed heavily, "You're right, Jess...I failed you. And I'm sorry about that."

Jessica started, her face showing obvious signs of confusion at his admittance. "You..you're apologizing to me?" she asked skeptically as Wyatt nodded his head solemnly. "Wow." she remarked with a scoff, "That's a first."

'See, there you go." Wyatt breathed out in exasperation, "Every time I try to talk to you...this is what happens."

'What happens? Because let me clue you in, Wyatt. It never ends with you apologizing..."

"Maybe I shouldn't be the only one apologizing." Wyatt snapped back, "I'll give you the divorce papers...sure, why not? We weren't happy. But why the hell did you say you were pregnant when we haven't even…"

"That wasn't my decision."

"Oh no," Wyatt relayed back in disbelief, "of course it wasn't."

"Look," Jessica tried to explain, "they didn't expect you to sign the papers, okay?"

"They?" Wyatt asked, "Who's they?"

"Carol thought that maybe if I told you I was pregnant, it might make you reconsider the divorce long enough to…"

"To what?" Wyatt demanded, rounding on her.

"To stop screwing her daughter, okay?" Jessica spat back angrily, adding with a derisive laugh as Wyatt flushed, "Yeah, I know all about that. Guess I was right, you were having an affair..."

"It wasn't like that." Wyatt gritted out angrily, turning away from her.

"Oh really? What was it like, Wyatt?" Jessica demanded, "You were married and she was engaged, apparently."

"She wasn't...Wyatt began, "she didn't even know the guy...and you...Jessica...you were dead, okay?

"Ha! Nice try, Wyatt. The minute you started working at Mason I knew that bitc..."

"Don't you say a word about, Lucy." Wyatt warned.

A wicked smile curled on Jessica's lips as she let out another haughty laugh, "Hit a nerve, I see." She nodded, "You know, I never thought you would ever wind up with someone like her. She's…well," she stopped short at Wyatt's glare and continued with a smile, "she's not really your type, is she?" Wyatt glowered as she continued, "And I'm sorry, but I have a hard time believing your hers." She stopped, suddenly, "Wasn't her fiancé a doctor or something?" Wyatt rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh as she let out a derisive laugh, "She must have been pretty desperate, huh? Holed up in your little safe-house with the walls closing in…"

"Are you finished?" Wyatt replied, turning back to walk down the dirt road.

"Who made the first move? You or her?" Jessica continued, spurred on by Wyatt's surliness. She jogged to catch up with him as he stomped down the road, determined to get a rise out of him, "Were you both drunk or did you actually..."

"That's none of your damn business." Wyatt snapped, rounding on her.

"Of course not." Jessica shrugged, rethreading her arm through his, "I'm just your wife."

"You aren't my wife." Wyatt gritted out, wrenching his arm out of her grip, "Not anymore. I don't even know who the hell you are."

"I'm…me." Jessica replied with a shrug. "And you married me…this me." Wyatt made to argue, but Jessica spoke over him, "Yes, this me, Wyatt. I remember...even if you don't." He shook his head and continued walking on as Jessica trailed behind him, calling out, "…and despite what you may think, I still care about you. Why do you think I came along?"

Wyatt shrugged, turning back to face her, "I don't know. I can't even begin to think what you could possibly be doing in 1863 that doesn't involve these Rittenhouse assholes…because if you really cared about me" Wyatt added emphatically, "you wouldn't be messed up in all of..."

"So you can do this, but I can't?" she snapped. "Gee thanks, Wyatt...I'll just find my apron and go on home, then."

"That's not what I meant." Wyatt stated seriously. "Rittenhouse doesn't give a damn about you or me or anybody who doesn't fit their idea of…whatever the hell it is they want. I met the guy who started it all, Jess." he added emphatically, "he was a damn psycho."

"They're not bad people." Jessica argued defensively to which Wyatt gave a derisive snort, "They're not." she maintained. "They're my family."

"I was your family." Wyatt shot back at her, his emotions getting the better of him. "Didn't'...didn't I matter?"

"Wyatt," Jessica sighed, her features softening, "they saved my brother's life. They saved my life. I mean, I thought you would be grateful to them for…"

"For what?" Wyatt gritted out.

Jessica blinked hard at him, her bottom lip trembling with apparent emotion. "Wyatt, I know that...that things are different - that according to you, I've been dead for five years." She reached up and caressed face with her gloved hand, "They told me you wanted nothing more than to change that night…that your biggest regret was losing me. Is that true?"

Wyatt closed his eyes and nodded, "Yeah, yeah that's true."

Well," she replied with a smirk, "here I am. Isn't this what you wanted? To have me back?"

"Jess..." Wyatt groaned.

"I just don't understand how, if that was true, you could betray me with...with her. You had a time machine, you could have been the one to save me. But you didn't." Wyatt screwed his face up in anguish as she continued, "Don't you see where I'm coming from? You left me on the side of the road to die and these...these people that you are calling evil...they saved me." She shook her head at him in disbelief as a tear streaked down her cheek, "From where I stand, they're the hero in this story - not you."

"I didn't want to be a hero." Wyatt muttered, "I just...I just wanted to fix..."

"If you loved me, like you say you did...if I was your biggest regret...then why didn't you..."

"I tried, Jess." Wyatt pleaded, begging her to understand. "I tried. I...I sent a letter. I...I stole the damn time machine. Hell, a guy is dead...because of me." Wyatt stared back at her, his eyes brimming with tears, "Dammit, Jessica," he gritted out, "I beat myself up for years – blaming myself for what happened to you." He shook his head, running a rough hand over his eyes before he continued in a voice shaking with emotion, "It was my fault for leaving you like I did, Jess and dammit, I…I tried everything to bring you back…" he sighed, "but...but after I stole the time machine...I realized I had to stop trying to fix the past...or I was going to mess up my future."

"With Lucy..." Jessica sneered.

"No." Wyatt replied, causing Jessica to scoff derisively. "Lucy was there, right beside me...trying to help get you back. She just wanted me to be happy." Wyatt added, a small smirk forming on his face before his face darkened again as he thought about how much he had hurt her in his pursuit, "It never worked, Jess. Everything I tried to do, just bit me in the ass...and hurt everyone else around me. I...I couldn't do it anymore...and now, more than ever I realize that...even if I had saved you...I...I couldn't fix what happened to us."

"But don't you see?" Jessica implored, "You can. We can start over. Leave all of this behind. Enough with the secrets and the lies…we can have a real second chance. Rittenhouse gave that to us…"

"They didn't do that for us." Wyatt replied derisively, "They don't give a damn whether you or I live or die."

"So? We could walk away from all of this…and be happy. Wyatt," Jessica whispered desperately holding his hand, "We can have the life we always dreamed of. If you come with me, we'll both have everything we could ever want. We never have to worry about another thing."

"What the hell are you talking about, Jess?" Wyatt asked her incredulously. "You and I...we...gave up on that dream a long time ago. Hell, we should have gone our separate ways long before Travis, long before I ever let you out of that damn car...all we ever did was fight."

"That's not true..."

"A year ago, I would've believed that." Wyatt scoffed. "I was so eaten up with guilt...you were right, I put you and our marriage on a pedestal." He shook his head, "but no more. Jess, I've moved on."

Bristling, Jessica dropped his hand, "They're never going to leave her alone – you know that, right? She's one of them…she belongs with them in a way that Emma and I only dream…" she stopped herself and huffed out a breath, "They will never let you two be together, okay? She's too important to them. As someone who cares about you...please, listen to me. It will be better for both of you if you just give her up now. Let her go be with her mother and they'll leave the rest of you alone. Isn't that what you want? To get your life back?"

"Not like this." Wyatt gritted out, "Not without Lucy. No. I will never let them take her again." Jessica made to argue, but he continued, "I don't give a damn what they think is best for her. Lucy is the only one who should be deciding that."

"But Wyatt..."

"I love her, Jess." Wyatt admitted, his voice quavering with emotion. "I love her. When you were killed, I…I never thought I'd ever…" he bit his lip to keep it from quivering as he fought to keep his tears at bay before continuing with a scoff, "Hell, I didn't think I even deserved anything close to..." He nodded, "You said Rittenhouse saved you? Well, Lucy saved me." Defeated, Jessica hung her head and began to sob softly as Wyatt continued gently, "Lucy is my life now, Jess. I'm…I'm sorry."

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Jessica nodded, "No Wyatt, "she replied thickly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug, "I'm sorry." As Jessica buried her face in the crook of his neck, Wyatt couldn't help but close his eyes and let a few tears of his own fall down his cheeks. It had been five long years of mourning and now he felt, at last, that he could truly move on. No more guilt. No more anger. No more blame.

It was over.

He tightened his grip on Jessica as a lifetime's worth of misery and heartache passed through him. She too, gripped harder onto his shoulders, not seeming to want to let him go...and for one small moment, Wyatt felt that he had a glimpse of the old Jessica back...and in that moment he felt at peace.

But that moment soon passed.

No sooner had he resolved to step away from her and do the job he was sent there to do that she nuzzled her chin against his shoulder and muttered through her tears, "I want you to remember that it didn't have to be this way, but you aren't giving me any choice."

Confused, Wyatt made to pull away from her but a sudden, blinding, searing pain had him crumpling to the ground before her. With a shaking hand he reached to the back of his neck and felt the warm ooze of blood. "What the…" Wyatt gasped as he faltered further, squinting through pained eyes at Jessica, standing over him, slowly wiping her knife clean of his blood. "What the hell did you do, Jessica?" Wyatt gritted out as he attempted to stand.

She shook her head at him mournfully and sighed, "I gave you so many chances…"

"Jess…"

He attempted to get back to his feet, to do anything but lay there helpless to whatever plan she had cooked up, but just as he got to his knees, Jessica landed a hard blow to the side of his head with the butt of a revolver. He fell to the ground as the Earth began to swim out of focus. Crouching down beside him, Jessica leaned over and brushed a newly formed trickle of blood away from his temple. Wyatt made a weak attempt to move away from her, but it was no use. The world was dimming now, long shadows seemed to be closing in around him from all sides as Jessica planted a soft kiss on his cheek and whispered, "Good-bye, Wyatt."

Notes:

So that chapter has been 97% finished for OVER A YEAR - possibly two - it's been written for a LONG LONG TIME and has been a figurative millstone around my neck - seriously, it feels so good to no longer have "FINISH this chapter" staring at me on my "to do" list. If you want the reason as to WHY I have not updated it in forever and why I put it on the back burner...well, look no further than those last few paragraphs. Things are about to get MIGHTY angsty and as we have had over a year of angst and heartache and drama in our real lives - I was not prepared to go there in the world of fiction. So, I spent most of my time living in the Stranded fic and only coming over here to dabble in this one when I felt strong enough to do so. (LOL) That may sound silly to you - because it's just fan fiction, after all...but what can I say? I get emotional when I write...and I just did not even want to go there...but I knew I had to...and well, I was NOT ABOUT to leave this massive cliff hanger for you all until I knew I was ready to write out the next couple of chapters. I know so many people are angry at me for bringing Jessica back in this fic that is supposed to be the Lyatt timeline...but believe me I HAD TO DO IT...and when this is all said and done, you'll see why...though some of you may have already figured it out.

One of the reasons is this right here. Closure. Wyatt needed it. I had always planned to being her back..because again, I had to...but adding the pregnancy lie was a last minute decision I made (well over a year ago...has it been two years? I don't know!) because I wanted Wyatt to confront her over that. It still bugs me to this day that Wyatt didn't get a chance to call Jessica a liar to her face. It bugs me that he didn't take off that damn ring that tormented us all of Season 2 and chuck it at her. So for me, this confrontation was important - not just to give Wyatt closure, but to give me...and I'm sure some of you...that satisfaction of Wyatt calling Jessica out for her lies, her manipulation and ultimately having that oh so important moment of Wyatt telling Jessica that he chooses Lucy. I needed that like I needed air and we didn't get it...so fanfic it is!

As for the history - yes, General McClellan had an affinity for Prussian made saddles and there was a Prussian officer who sort of got him to buy a whole mess of them for his grand army. I know we don't get to see much of either Colonel Montgomery or Colonel Porter in action in the episode...but Colonel Montgomery was the Union commander for the Combahee River Raid and if you've ever watched Glory...he's the commander of the other black regiment that raids/burns the town...and the raid with him in that movie takes place immediately after the Combahee River Raid.

Many of Grant's old officers do end up working in his cabinet when he becomes President...and many of them do get involved in NUMEROUS scandals because Grant delegated his authority much like he did in the military...and unfortunately for him, he trusted the wrong people. Many took advantage of the fact that Grant was kind of clueless when it came to politics and spent much of their time working behind the scenes to use their position to enrich themselves and place others of their ilk in places of influence. This continues on through the latter part of the 19th century and really it's where you see full blown corruption in US politics.

I bring ALL of this up because I wanted to connect Flynn's exploits of S1 to this season in some way...this connection will continue to (hopefully) make that moment from S1 seem more meaningful in the "Flynn was trying to stop Rittenhouse" sort of way...at least, that is my intent with this. I promise - there's a method to my madness.

I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter. I don't know if anyone is even still following this story or if you even care - but I do plan on trying to knock out the rest of it very soon. (only two more chapters) It's been living in my head and in my notes for two years now and it will be OH SO WONDERFUL to breathe life into the last bit of it and let it go. There are some twists and turns ahead so please bear with me as I try to manage my time and this very complex ending. Thanks again for stopping by and sticking with this.