Declan and I are up on the boat deck, crouching down by the door that leads to the officer's quarters…and to the Marconi room. It's located directly behind the small interior of the wheel house where Casey and I had royally fucked up.

Our entire walk from the bow to the boat deck had been quiet.

We still don't have a solid plan. What kind of shit storm are we walking into? This could end very badly…or it could be the greatest save this world has ever known.

I'm not sure of much, but what I do know for certain is that Titanic will sink.

There's no stopping it.

But what's the loss of a massive ship and some expensive personal items compared to the lives of thousands?

After today, I'm hoping that Titanic will no longer be living in infamy. After all, nobody remembers the names of ships who have floundered when there is little to no lives lost. People are mesmerized by the stories of the grandest ship to ever sail…but what people are really enamored with is the graveyard that lies below the sea.

So many mistakes are about to be made. It's eerie as shit.

Think about it.

Slowing the ship down so that the ice burg can take its sweet time slicing it open.

Turning the wheel instead of running it head on where one-third of the ship doesn't stand a chance against the damn thing.

Miscommunication between crew.

Captain Smith freezing in shock. The whole women and children order is taken out of context. He never meant no men at all! Just no men while women and children were present to board. At one point, there are only twelve people in a lifeboat built for 65. Hell, the first lifeboat lowered will only have 28 people.

But I don't have time to think about that.

I have to focus on that one colossal mistake that is going to start it all.

Jack Phillips telling the Californian to shut up!

Okay, I get. The guy sounds a lot like me. If I was busy, I'd tell someone to shut the hell up, too. But these are ice warnings were talking about. And he receives plenty of them. How can someone ignore something so freaking important when that's his job to begin with?

Declan signals to me with his hand, quietly telling me to slip inside. I rise slowly, peering through the glass. I see no one. There are several rooms down a small hallway, leading to a corridor at the end. Great. I'm so flippin' sick of corridors. This ship is packed full of them and I feel like a piece of cheese should be waiting at the end every time I turn a damn corner.

It's so easy to get turned around.

I slowly open the door, wincing when it creeks slightly. I pause before opening it wider.

I slip inside, Declan close behind me. I can only imagine how ridiculous we look, crawling on all fours, stopping at each open door we pass. Suddenly, I see two officers sitting at a desk, focused on their task at hand. They are talking in hushed whispers.

I turn to Declan behind me, pointing quietly at the open room. He gives me a nod with his head.

This is it.

I take a deep breath, freezing for a moment when I catch sight of the guns resting on their hips. The deep ocean terrifies me, but I really don't want to get shot today, either.

I make a shooting motion with my hand, letting Declan know what we're walking into. He gives me a knowing look before grabbing my shoulder and dragging me behind him.

Great. There he goes playing 'Dad' again. I appreciate the gesture of him believing me about our time travels, and I'm still choked up about the gift he just gave me…but I'm trying to save the guy from certain death, and here he is, putting himself in harm's way anyhow.

Declan slips inside quietly, with me close on his heels, literally. Once inside, I close the door softly.

One of the officers hears the click. He turns abruptly, standing quickly as he reaches for his gun.

"Now!" I hear Declan scream. A massive adrenaline rush courses through my body and I don't remember much.

But I do know that Declan and I proceed to beat the shit out of these guys.

They never stood a chance.

"Where did you learn to fight like that, Derek?" Declan beams, stripping the officer of his clothing as the man lies still on the floor.

"Football verses Hockey, my man. You have to show them whose boss. You?"

"I used to box before I was married. Brought me in a pretty penny in those days before I was lucky enough to own my own shipping business in Ireland. Not many Irishman can find work now a days, so I've been blessed, but because of it, my company has taken a dive. America is a way to start over, my boy."

"And I fully intend to help you get there, Dec," I grin. It's the first genuine smile I've had all day. For the first time, I feel hope.

Declan and I dress quickly. The men aren't exactly our size. Both are a tad bigger than we are, but that doesn't mean shit. After all, Curtis on the football team is a giant, and I still managed to bust his lip in half.

We take a look in the full-sized mirror, tugging on our navy colored uniforms and adjusting the hats that sit on top of our heads which read White Star Lines.

"We look quite amazing, don't you agree, Derek?"

"Mmmhmm," I agree. "We look sexy as shit…but that mustache has got to go." I smirk in his direction and say what I've been wanting to say since the first moment I laid eyes on him. But don't get me wrong! I say it with pure affection.

Declan touches his upper lip, frowning. "It's all the fashion."

"It may be in fashion, Dec, but it ain't style."

"Just get moving," he says, pushing me towards the door by my head. He's acting like he's mad at me, but I can see the grin forming underneath that ugly lip hair.

"Aye, aye, sir," I mock, moving to the door handle. With one last hesitation, I open the door wide and stand tall, walking out into the hallway. Declan and I make our way to the nearby corridor, looking in both directions. To our left, we can see an open cabin that has several empty bunk beds inside. I'm guessing that's not where the Marconi room is, so I turn right. We walk side by side for several feet.

This isn't so difficult.

At one point, an officer begins making his way towards us and I dip my head low, my confidence faltering. He makes a gesture to me with his hat, and I return it, breathing in relief as he keeps walking.

"I'm guessing this wasn't such a bad idea after all," Declan says in a hushed whisper.

Beep beep….beep beep beep…beep beep…

I freeze.

The beeping sound is coming from behind a closed door on our left, very close to the end of the long corridor we just walked. Declan hears it, too. We get closer, pressing our ears to the door in unison.

Beep beep beep beep…beep beep…

I turn the doorknob slightly, peeking through the crack. Luckily, there is only one guy sitting down, his fingers tapping wildly, headphones covering his ears. There are only two guys that I'm aware of who are wireless operators on the Titanic. I have a 50/50 shot at this being Phillips.

For a moment, I wish Casey was here because I'm sure she would be able to tell just by looking at the guy if we had the right person or not. If it's the other dude, this whole thing may never work. We might not be able to get to Phillips at all. I'm not much of a praying man, but I send up a prayer, knowing that this is our last chance at saving the lives of 1500 people.

The weight on my shoulders has never felt so heavy.

Declan and I check the hallway one last time to ensure no one sees us enter the Marconi room. It's not like we're going to beat the guy up…only if he gives us any trouble. But it will help knowing we have a nice window open to take care of business.

We creep inside, shutting the door quietly behind us. The guy doesn't even know we are standing directly behind him. He is so focused on his work that anyone can walk in and blow his brains out; he would never know what hit him.

We stand frozen in place for several moments before Declan nudges my arm, pointing down at the young man, a good-looking guy in his mid-twenties. He's telling me to get moving…we don't have all day.

That is the understatement of the century.

With a deep breath, I move towards the wireless operator.

With quick hands, I cover his mouth to keep him from screaming out. He instantly starts fighting me.

"Calm down! We aren't going to hurt you, but are you Phillips?" I say in his ear. He pauses, his eyes wide. He nods his head 'yes' and instant relief washes through me. "Good. Now I'm going to remove my hand, and if you scream, I'm knocking you the fuck out. Got it?"

"Do you think threatening the poor boy will make him listen to us, Derek. Given the circumstances, perhaps being polite wouldn't kill you," Declan says, leaning his hand against the desk while crossing his feet, pinning me with an amused, yet authoritative gaze, his tone light.

"Please," I say through clenched teeth. "Don't scream."

Jack Phillips nods his head rapidly. I remove my hand and step back slowly. He leaps from his chair and turns around, whipping his headphones off and throwing them to the side.

"You aren't officers! Who are you? What do you want?" His eyes are narrowed in anger as rapid questions fly from his mouth.

"We just want to talk, son," Declan answers for me. "My friend here only means to help you out…to help us all. Listen to him."

"Help me?" Phillips scoffs. "What could you possibly help me with?"

I have the strong urge to roll my eyes and punch this guy in the face, but I remain as calm as I possibly can given the circumstances.

"What are you working on?" I say in curiosity, looking over his shoulder. "Backed up passenger messages?"

"How would you know that? That's confidential?"

"Lucky guess," I say in agitation. "But that's not why I'm here. I'm hear about that ice field we're about to speed into."

"Ice field? How did you know I've been receiving messages regarding ice? That's conf…"

"Yea, yea, yea" I say, holding my hand up. "It's confidential. I get it."

Phillips gives a heavy sigh, annoyed. His body relaxes visibly when he finally realizes that Declan and I mean him no real harm. He even sits back down, turning his back against us. He's either a very brave or very stupid man.

"I'm busy. Would the two of you mind leaving."

"Listen, ass wipe…"

"Derek…" Declan scolds.

"Listen…sir." Since when do I suddenly get all polite and shit because an adult makes me? Nora and Dad would probably be thrilled if I could bring Declan home with me. He seems to have the rare ability to keep me in line. "Tonight, around eleven o'clock…maybe a little bit before, you're going to receive a warning about ice from the Californian. For the love of God, don't tell them to shut up!" I get right to the point.

"Are you mad?" Phillips turns to me, looking up like I'm clearly insane. I've been getting a lot of that lately. "First off, why in the world would I ever tell another ship trying to help us out to 'shut up'? And second, are you trying to tell me you're psychic or something?"

"Just do it!" I raise my voice before dropping it once again. "And second, use your 'please' and 'thank yous.' You're going to ask the Californian to please wait on standby while we go through that ice field. Ask them to not shut off their wireless system and go to fucking bed until we give them the all clear? Got it? But you're never going to give them the all clear. Understood?"

"What is this all about?" Phillips asks with genuine curiosity for the first time.

I hesitate. "I can't tell you, but you have to trust me. Please…"

He swallows hard, turning back to his work. He picks up his headphones, placing them back over his ears. "I'll be nice," he says, before continuing to tap his fingers wildly once again.

Declan and I gaze down at Phillips.

All we can do is put our trust in this one man; the one man who held a big part of the responsibility for the lives of so many lost long ago. Casey said that he's not all bad. He stayed until the last few moments, reaching out to ships for help. He died because he was determined to stay at his post and help those that he possibly could.

The Carpathia arrives at 4am because of his efforts. But it's too late unless you are lucky enough to get a seat on a lifeboat.

This guy is our last hope to save the lives of so many aboard a dying ship.

Maybe history can be changed after all?