THE NIGHT OF JULY 14th, 1960

By Andamogirl

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ACT TWO

Later inside the cargo hold of the Silver II

It was half-an hour later that Artemus opened his eyes.

He lifted his chin which was resting against his bare chest and sneezed twice. He noticed that he was huddled in a corner of the cargo hold, still dimly lit by a lone lamp, swinging in time with the pitch of the boat. He was sagged up against the cold and wet hull.

He was restrained again with shackles. But this time he was naked except for his still Potomac-River-water-soaked underwear.

He spotted Jim, sitting cross-legged beside him, his face tensed. He too was in his underwear, his damp hair flat, plastered to his scalp. He said, "I'm okay. But I'm sure I'm going to have a bad cold." Then he sniffled and shivered. He felt like his whole body was ice. "Oh boy! That water was freezing!" He couldn't keep his teeth from chattering. "W-where are t-the t-towels and the b-blank-kets?" he stammered.

Jim pulled the older man into a sitting position. Then he maneuvered his best friend so his back was resting against his chest and wrapped his arms around Artie's torso to share his body heat with him. He gasped as his best friend's upper body felt like a block of ice against his chest. "They're gone. I'm sorry, buddy. Junior took our blankets, to punish us, and no towels either of course," he explained feeling Artie's icy skin against his and he shuddered even more.

His teeth still clacking, Artemus managed to say, "Oh g-great! T-tell me again why t-two old s-sagging retirees both agreed t-to w-work for the s-Secret Service again – if we p-put aside the .more t-than generous p-pay, the c-comfort of having our own t-train, and b-being together again… for w-what? The thrill of action? And b-because retirement was b-boring?"

Jim smiled too and then he replied, "We ended our retirement for that, exactly, for all that, and because of that, and because the President wanted the best special agents at his side – and we are the best, Artie. The best! And he knows that. He knows those young agents of the Secret Service are half the men we are."

Artie leaned his head on Jim's shoulder as his best friend started rubbing his numbed arms up and down in gentle but vigorous strokes to warm him up. He smiled. "T-thanks J'm."

Feeling almost warm after such a small effort, Jim smiled, "You're welcome." And smiled when Artie relaxed against him.

Hugging his close-to-be a brother from behind, Jim stayed like this with Artemus in his arms for a while in companionable silence.

No longer feeling like a piece of ice, but still chilled, Artie parted from his best friend and turned around to face him. He immediately noticed that his waterlogged clothes along with Jim's were hanging on a rope stretched across the room, dripping water to the floor. Their boots were lying on the soaked floor a little farther away, their socks, piled on top.

Jim followed Artie's gaze and explained, "Two of Loveless's henchmen stripped us of our freezing and soaked clothes and boots and put them there to dry – Loveless didn't order that to spare us from catching a cold, but to punish us. We're going to stay like this, half-naked, without any towel to dry us and without any blanket to warm us until he decides otherwise."

Frowning, Artie shook his head. "That's torture!" he exclaimed and that was precisely why Loveless did that to them, he thought. He wiggled his numb fingers, the movement slow and sluggish, then pressed his hands against his armpits to keep them warm. Then he sighed. "You're right about those young agents… we're far better than them, but they have something we don't have anymore, Jim, youth and stamina."

Falsely hurt Jim knitted his eyebrows. "Speak for yourself Artie. You're 60, I'm 45. I'm not a young man anymore, I am a middle-aged man, yes, but I still have plenty of stamina!"

Smiling Artie replied, "Said the man who didn't knock that horrible man, who didn't love my exceptional performance, more than twelve feet."

Smiling too, Jim added, "Exceptional? It was so bad that he fired you, Artie."

Shaking his head Artemus sighed, defeated. "I know, I know. I have to admit that I wasn't in top shape that night, my Shakespearian readings were a bit muddled, but as a quick change artiste, I made a hit! Everyone loved that!" Then he smiled proudly.

Eyes twinkling, his grin a tease, Jim said, "F-i-r-e-d! Fired!"

The older man nodded, deflated. "I was bad, yes, you're right. I am a very good actor, you know that. But that night, I was bored out of my mind and thus I was bad. My interest in playing in that troupe was decreasing every day. After that representation I was ready to quit and leave the troupe with no plans for the future… and then you appeared from nowhere and the timing couldn't have been more perfect!" He sighed and rubbed his face. "Okay, I'm old and I don't have the same stamina I had… but, fortunately for you, and me, we still have all our mental capacity." He caught Jim raising a questioning eyebrow. "Old doesn't mean senile, ya know!" He added, on the defensive. He shifted his over-fatigued-and-cold-numbed-body and leaned against the bulkhead, his back and shoulders still shaking. He lifted his hands, his wrists prisoners of shackles and chains and brought his arms against his bare chest. Then he turned toward his partner and frowned in concern. "I love Junior's hospitality. He inherited it from his late father." He glanced at Jim who looked tired and was shivering violently. "Are you okay, Jim?"

Copying Artemus, Jim said. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just cold. I'm not the one who almost drowned in the Potomac River, Artie." Then he started rubbing his hands furiously up and down the length of his arms. "Brrr!"

Artemus nodded. "But I wouldn't have drowned." His shoulders hunched, he placed a hand on the younger man's arm and pressed warmly. "Thank you very much for your help, Jim, but you and I know that I won't die before twenty years from now, in my bed, in my sleep, from a heart attack."

Smiling, Jim patted the older man's knee in response. "What are best friends for, huh? Besides it was my turn to save you this week, Artie. You saved me in San Francisco last week, in that tavern."

Rubbing his aching temples Artemus nodded. "That's right. Hiding a gun in a peg leg was a brilliant idea." Looking around him he spotted a bucket sitting in an angle of the cargo hold. "I bet Junior is not going to let us go on the deck again to pee in the river." He sniffled again. "Time is going to seem long to us, locked in here with nothing to do. Perhaps I could ask for a deck of cards."

Immediately Jim gave Artie a sour look. "I'm not playing with you – ever again. You probably were a professional gambler in a former life. I lose each time I play with you – it's no fun." He crossed his chained wrist to his chest. "What about having a nice little chat to pass the time, Artie, hm?... Tell me about Lupita and you. You're pretty discreet on the subject of your relationship. Of course I read the articles in the newspapers but they do not give many details. I want more. In fact, I want to know everything."

His face closing, Artie ran a hand through his hair plastered to his forehead in curly locks and then shook his head. "That's something private, Jim." That meant 'no.'

Pouting, Jim nudged Artie's arm. "Aw! Come on Artie! You're like a brother to me; we've shared everything for almost 20 years. Don't be shy. Come on, tell me everything. Let's start with the most important question: when and where are you going to propose to her?" he waved his finger. "And don't say 'never because we are going to die', because you know that it won't happen, at least not in the near future."

Artemus nodded. "I know, and it's comforting me somehow. I still have 20 years to live and I want to enjoy every minute of them… Alright. I intend to propose to her…" He suddenly sneezed hard against his shoulder and then started sniffing hard.

There was a metallic noise and the hatch opened.

Michelito Loveless followed by one of his burly men, came down the ladder. "I'm not interrupting something important I hope?" the short man asked.

His brow furrowing, upset, Jim shot a black look at Loveless. "As a matter of fact, yes, you are. What do you want Junior?"

Loveless hid a fake yawn behind his hand and said "I'm bored and I have decided to have some fun to pass the time. You tried to escape, so you are going to be punished for that."

Looking indifferent, Artemus nodded and added, "Jim is right. You seriously lack imagination, Shorty. What have you in mind? You're going to whip us both tied up to the ship's mast?"

Jim eyed Artie sideways, "Don't give him such ideas! He probably thought about something less painful, like don't let us have any dessert."

They both smiled broadly and then chuckled.

Michelito Loveless lost his patience. "Enough! Enough!" he said, tightening his fists, tight-lipped. "After what I have prepared for you, you won't laugh again for a long time."

Artie's throat tightened.

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Later

Once on the deck, Jim and Artemus saw that the fishing boat was under full sails and was moving fast, thanks to a powerful wind.

They were separated: a goon pushed Artie to the starboard rail and another one pushed Jim to the port rail. Once that was done, they had their hands tied solidly to a long rope.

Michelito Loveless standing on the deck between James West and Artemus Gordon said, "It's a pity there are no sharks in the Potomac, because you would have made tasty bait. As you both love water, this is your punishment gentlemen. As you can see, your hands are tied with a rope which is attached to the rail." He raised his hand casting a glance at the Silver I that was tailing them a few miles back. Then he looked again at his prisoners and added, "Do you know what's awaiting you?" The two agents shook their heads their foreheads wrinkling. "No? A demonstration is better than words, then." He paused enjoying Jim and Artie's tensed looks and posture and then ordered, "Kirby, push Mr. Gordon overboard."

Surprised Artie opened his eyes wide at the order that sent a chill down his spine. He recoiled as panic surged up in his throat, images of his almost drowning came back to his mind with full force. "What? No!" but he bumped into a sailor who grabbed him.

Kirby complied.

A few seconds later Artie hit the so frigid water with a big splash and let out a half shriek, half gasp before dunking under the surface. He found himself being dragged in the river Potomac on the end of the rope, behind the boat, icy and murky water rushing into his nose, his ears, his mouth and his eyes. He started swimming awkwardly, spluttering, doing his best to keep his head above the water, the cold sinking into him fast.

Michelito Loveless chuckled. "It's easy for the moment, because the boat moves fast; and you don't have to swim, just keep your head out of water, but when the boat slows down, things will be more tricky, because swimming with just your legs is not easy, and very painful after a moment. You will swallow a lot of water, get very cold and have a lot of pain, and I love it!" He cackled, rubbing his hands in glee, earning a glare from Jim which he ignored, then he nodded to the goon standing beside the US Secret Service agent, and James West hit the so very cold water shortly after.

One hour later the boat slowed down as the wind died.

The two men struggled to swim with just their legs, struggled to keep their heads out of the freezing water, cold sinking deeper and deeper into their bones as they fought against hypothermia-numbness.

They fought hard, they resisted. They didn't give Loveless what he wanted: weakness and fear. Together they remained strong, encouraging each other to hold on.

Loveless Jr. sat on a chair on the deck and enjoyed the show until he realized that his prisoners were showing signs of fatigue, their movements being lethargic, the two men going underwater more often.

As he didn't want to kill them - but enjoy their struggle and pain - he ordered his men to bring the two agents back on board.

Once back in the cargo hold, Jim and Artie both rolled in a ball, gasping for breath, coughing water, muscles aching, lungs twisting, shudders ripping through their exhausted and freezing bodies, far too drained to say anything.

Soon they were both unconscious.

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Much later

The next morning Artemus, pale as a ghost, had developed a bad cold and he was feverish. He was shivering continuously, uncontrollably, his nose running, a headache hammering his skull.

Frowning in concern, Jim told Loveless that Artie had to stay in the cargo hold, with a few blankets wrapped around him, but the short man refused. "If he can walk, so he can swim too," he said. Then he ordered two of his thugs to pull Artie up onto his feet.

One goon pushed Artie forward and the older man winced and groaned putting one foot in front of the other without falling over. "He can walk," he said with a smirk.

Loveless nodded. "Then he can swim."

Fighting against heavy eyelids, Artie struggled to stay up on his feet, blinking blearily. His whole body was aching, his joints were stiff and his limbs rigid and he was bordering on exhaustion.

Catching his partner's alarmed gaze, he mumbled, "M'okay J'm." He stammered. His voice was quiet and sleepy as his mind was still a bit sluggish. Then he lifted his chin defiantly, half-glaring at Loveless. "I'm not old and weak. I can hold on." With that he took a couple of steps and then stopped for a second, or his knees would have collapsed under him.

In a flash Jim was at his partner's side, holding his arm.

Shooting his Nemesis a venomous glare, he hated Loveless Jr. even more – if possible. "You're going to pay for that, Shorty! Enjoy all this while you can."

Michelito Loveless just chuckled.

Suddenly Artemus coughed and sneezed explosively into his hands crashing to his knees shaky with fatigue at the same time.

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The next morning

The next morning it was pouring with rain and it was blisteringly cold. The two agents had their arms crossed over their chests covered in goosebumps trying to keep themselves warm. Their hands and feet were tinged blue with cold.

Michelito Loveless sitting down on his chair on the deck, under a protective waterproof canopy, and wrapped in a thick coat, watched the two agents exhaust themselves in trying to swim behind the boat, as it was moving slowly over the surface of the river, pushed by a soft wind.

In the afternoon a strong wind chased the big dark clouds, then dropped.

Smiling cruelly, he watched his prisoners sink under water more and more often as their strength and resistance declined, their muscles feeling more and more uncooperative.

The water of the Potomac River was freezing their already tired limbs and making it nearly impossible to swim. They surfaced yes, sputtering water too, but their faces were ghostly pale and strained by the intense effort and the pain.

Exhausted, his energy drained from him by the immeasurable efforts he had been making for two days, Artemus couldn't help but let himself sink.

Loveless Jr. ordered him to be brought back on board, before the older agent drowned. Artemus curled in on himself on the deck. His limbs felt heavy and sluggish. Tremors wracked his body, so violent they hurt. His skin was pale and his extremities even tinged blue. All he could feel was pain.

The short man leaned toward the close-to-be hypothermic man and said, "So, how was the water?" his breath fogging in the chilly air.

Eyes closed, Artemus was shivering violently and his teeth were chattering so bad he couldn't answer his Nemesis.

Loveless ordered to one of his minions, "Bring him back to the cargo hold and give him a blanket. I don't want him to die from exposure to cold."

But the short man let Jim in the icy cold water until it was dark.

Once back in the cargo hold, Jim was restrained again with the shackles and then he collapsed on the floor as he gasped in air, weak and limp, with no feeling in his prune-like and numbed extremities. Grabbing the blanket folded on the wooden floor next to his best friend, he wrapped himself in it.

He lay down beside Artie, a blanket tucked around him. The older man was dead to the world and passed out with uber-exhaustion and he pressed his fingers against his partner's forehead. Artemus was very pale, his skin was clammy and cold and his breathing was slow and shallow.

He snuggled close to his partner, releasing puffs of breath into the cold air, to share body heat with his sleeping best friend.

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Loveless kept to that routine – deliberately ignoring Artie's declining health - until the fishing boat berthed at the pier of his mansion, located on the banks of the Potomac River.

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Loveless's mansion, later

Guest room

Michelito Loveless looked at the two agents sprawled on the bed, both in their underwear, dead to the world, admiring his handiwork : West and Gordon had spent so long a time in the cold water of the Potomac River that their skin had withered and was marred with frostbite here and there. They had lost weight too, because he had barely given them enough food and swimming for hours had made their extra flesh vanish.

He nodded. As they were more than exhausted he was going to wait for them to feel better before doing anything else, he mused. They were in no shape to do what he had planned for them, while locked in a cell of a federal prison.

He smiled. While he was behind bars, the scientists working for him had completed the time travel machine he had imagined, and it was finally ready, he thought.

The short man's smile broadened. "But my two guinea pigs here – namely James West and Artemus Gordon - are not ready, not yet, but they will be, soon," he said before rubbing his hands in glee. He turned toward Dr. Beckett, his own physician for years, standing behind him. "I asked you to come, Henry because you're the best physician I know – and that's why I had you take care of my health for years." He pointed at his prisoners. "I want them both back in top shape as soon as possible."

Henry Beckett nodded. "Yes Michelito. But let me tell you that it's not going to be easy. That… treatment you subjected them to, for days, has utterly weakened them. It has especially impaired the health of the older man. It's a miracle he's still alive."

Loveless Jr. looked down at Artemus Gordon, gray and crumpled. Old. The other man looked like a corpse already. "Don't worry; Mr. Gordon is stronger than he looks. He's a fighter. He'll pull through, I'm sure. I'm counting on you to do your best, Henry."

Dr. Beckett nodded. "I will."

The short man headed toward the door and left the guest room.

Once alone Henry Beckett frowned deeply, wondering how he was going to do what Loveless wanted. He was a doctor, not a miracle worker, he mused and he continued his musing: the two agents of the Secret Service were both in bad shape – the older one especially.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress, taking Gordon's hand in his, and feeling for a pulse. It was there, but barely. His breathing was so shallow that it was almost inaudible. He had dark rings under his eyes and his slack face was twisted in pain even in his deeply unconscious state.

He touched his patient's forehead. His hair was damp with sweat, and his skin was very hot against his palm. His cheeks were flushed with fever.

He muttered a curse at the heat radiating from him. the older man was burning up. He had to act rapidly – cooling measures were necessary, he thought. He had to cover the other man's body with crushed ice and wash him with cool damp cloths.

If he didn't get his fever down the agent could have seizures or even brain damage.

Beckett headed toward the door, opened it and said to the guard, "I need ice, crushed ice, lots of it and a basin of cold water and some cloths too. Hurry!" then he went back to his feverish patient.

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Two days later

Eyes fluttering open, Jim woke up confused and disoriented. He wasn't shackled in the cargo hold of the fishing boat anymore but lying on a comfortable bed, in a richly decorated bedroom.

He turned his head to the left and saw bars on the windows – 'But I'm still a prisoner', he thought. He turned his head to the right and gasped in shock seeing Artemus lying on a twin bed, close enough to touch, if he extended his arm.

His partner looked like a corpse. "Artie!"

He snaked his hand out from the blanket he was wrapped in and he reached out, touching Artie's hand to verify if the other man was still alive. "Artie?"

His hand was clammy with sweat, he realized. He had a fever but was alive. He heaved a sigh of relief. 'Of course he is, he won't die until 1910', he mused. He closed his eyes shut. That simple movement had sapped his meager strength and he just lay there panting.

He waited for a couple of minutes and managed somehow to prop himself on one forearm and turned toward the older man, "Artie! Artie, wake up!" but Artemus didn't react.

Suddenly the door opened and an old man with white hair entered the room with a stethoscope around his neck. He smiled and said, "Ah! You're awake, good! Good! I'm Dr. Henry Beckett. How are you feeling this morning Mr. West?"

Looking at the other man with puffy and red-rimmed eyes, Jim replied, "I'm fine, but my friend is not. How is he Doctor?"

Henry Beckett sat down on the edge of Artemus's bed. "He still has a low grade fever, but his health has improved and it is far better than when you arrived here two days ago."

Surprised Jim blinked several times. "What? Two days ago?"

Beckett nodded. "Yes, you were both completely exhausted. You needed rest and you slept non-stop for 48 hours. Your partner Mr. Gordon, he's older than you and is less fit than you and thus he was much affected by the considerable 'efforts' to which you have been subjected. That's why he needs more rest and that's why he's still sleeping." He placed his stethoscope to Artie's chest and listened to his heartbeats. They were slow and regular and his breathing normal, he noticed. "Don't worry; he should wake up in the afternoon or in the evening, his fever down. He's going to be fine."

Relieved Jim smiled and said, "Thank you doctor."

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Much later

It was sunset when Artemus slowly opened his eyes and moaned. Jim sitting on his bed, reading the local newspaper Beckett had brought him shortly before, immediately moved to the edge of the other bed and took his partner's hand in his. "Hiya Artie!"

Raising tired eyes to his best friend, Artemus noticed that Jim sported a several days salt and pepper beard and his eyes had heavy shadows under them. "You look like hell Jim," he said, his voice raspy. He yawned and looked around him.

Smiling, Jim replied, "You should see your reflection in the mirror, Artie. You look a lot worse than me." He smiled again and added, "But you're going to be okay."

The older man nodded and ran a hand over his face feeling the graze of stubble rough against his skin and then asked, "What happened? How long have we been here? Two, three days judging by your beard, right?"

Jim sighed. "Junior locked us in this bedroom two days ago Artie. We were both so exhausted that I slept non-stop for 48 hours and you a few hours more. You were very sick and Dr. Beckett, Loveless's personal physician took care of you. He saved your life."

Closing his red and puffy eyes, Artie sighed. "I'm wondering what Junior has in mind for us, probably something painful and deadly," he said.

Jim patted his partner's shoulder reassuringly. "We'll probably suffer – a lot, but we won't die Artie. Our time won't come for many years." He helped Artemus to sit down on the bed and wrinkled his nose. "You and I could use a bath, a shave, and clothes."

The door opened and two armed goons entered pointing their guns at the agents. "The boss wants to see you, move!" the tallest of the two said.

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Loveless Jr.'s laboratory, later

Revolvers poking into their backs, the two Secret Service agents were escorted to a large laboratory. Their footsteps were slow and clumsy with exhaustion.

Once there Jim and Artie looked around them in great surprise.

Then they looked at each other, both thinking at the same time that they were used to seeing machines created by Miguelito Loveless throughout the years – and tested lots of them, unfortunately - but not machines of that scale.

The four walls of the room, from the floor to the ceiling, were occupied by huge, heavy and complicated devices, all linked with many wires to some kind of metallic arch placed in the middle of the laboratory, positioned on a podium.

Michelito Loveless entered the lab a few seconds later, followed by two of his armed and hulking henchmen and said, "Ah! Mr. West, Mr. Gordon, it's good to see you both conscious again… and in such a pitiful state, haggard, dirty, stinking, bearded, disheveled, solely in your underwear." He grinned visibly very pleased. "You both look more like escaped prisoners, or convicts than dashing agents of the Secret Service." He gestured to his machine, turning on the spot. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Not impressed, Jim sighed and crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Your father built machines like that all the time, so we're not impressed."

Loveless Jr. frowned in irritation. "I know that my father built machines, I even helped him a couple of times. But his machines were small and rudimentary compared to this one, you can't compare them to this wonder!" He pointed at the floor. "Now kneel!" he ordered. Smiling, he watched with pleasure the two men comply reluctantly then said, "That's better." Again, he showed the machine with a sweeping gesture of his arm. "This is my latest and most advanced machine," he said his eyes gleaming with pride. "My scientists worked hard on it for a year – to build it according to my specifications. I had designed it before I met you the first time. It's a perfection, it's a technological wonder! No one has built such a machine before!" The short man moved toward the arch settled on a podium and brushed the dark metal of the arch with admiration and reverence. "That's the principal part of my machine; it's a portal – a portal giving access to time travel."

Both Jim and Artie exchanged an incredulous look then it morphed into a worried one – with that kind of machine loveless could create chaos, no would create chaos. Changing the past would change the future and he could do a lot of damage traveling to the future too, they thought.

Furrowing his brow, both intrigued and fascinated, Artemus, switched into scientist mode and asked, "A time travel machine? How does it work?"

Loveless Jr. smiled. "I could tell you, but I'm not going to satisfy your scientific curiosity, Mr. Gordon – how very frustrating isn't it?" He chuckled seeing and enjoying Artemus's visible disappointment. "But I can tell you that I am going to use that machine to get rid of you from my life – for definite."

Licking his lips, mouth suddenly dry, Artie blanched and his eyes widened. "You intend to send Jim and me into time. Correction, you want to 'lose' Jim and me somewhere in time…"

Michelito Loveless nodded. "Yes, good deduction Mr. Gordon. But it will be just a 'hors d'oeuvre' – a very agreeable one, yes, before I travel myself in time, backward and ahead, to have gold, power, armies, incredible and powerful weapons… anything I want. Then I will come back to my own time and the world will be mine. My father wanted to rule the world… " He frowned angrily. "And because of you, he couldn't!" He calmed down within seconds and added, touching his chest. "But I, Michelito Loveless the first will be King, no I will be Emperor! Emperor of the world! I like that title a lot… it sounds nice to my ears."

Shaking his head Artemus said, "You are as much a megalomaniac as your father!"

Loveless smiled. "I take that as a compliment."

Then Jim deadpanned, "And like your father, you won't succeed."

Ignoring that last remark, Loveless Jr. moved toward the first wall and pulled up a series of levers and pressed dozens of colored buttons to activate the time travel machine, then he activated the other wall-covered machines – and the arch suddenly glowed with a loud whirring sound. Some kind of intricate net made with thousands of small discharges of electricity materialized inside the arch. "Voilà! It's ready," he said, his eyes shining with pleasure and awe. "Fantastic!"

Suddenly very, very worried, Artemus took a step back and started to muse. He knew he would be the first to 'go', to use the machine.

It had always been him first with Miguelito Loveless's devices – as the diminutive man wanted to see him suffer and enjoy seeing Jim suffer because he was in a great deal of pain and mortal danger – he even died, temporarily, multiple times. And Jim had brought him back. Fortunately.

The short man smiled again. "You're going to feel an intense electrical current run throughout your whole body but you won't be killed – just shocked – and it won't be pleasant."

Glaring at Loveless Artie replied, "Why am I not surprised?"

Looking down intently at Artemus, he continued, "You are going to be the first one to go, Mr. Gordon, in respect for your brilliant scientific mind, not as brilliant as mine – because there's brilliant and there's me. I'm a genius and you're not. And as I am in a good mood today, I will let you choose the date and the destination of your one way ticket trip." Then he looked at Jim. "But I will choose those for you, Mr. West as you were peskier with my father than you partner. What do you think about England in the middle-ages? I'm sure that a man with so many talents and who's noble, courageous and brave, etc. will make an excellent knight."

Frowning, puzzled, Artie raised his hand. "I'd like to ask you a question. How it is possible to come back? For example when you are in the past, how will you be able to come back?"

Michelito Loveless pulled out a silver bracelet from his pocket. There was a small red button on it. He showed it to the two agents and said, "I'm giving you the short version, purged of all details because I don't have time to explain the whole thing to you and because, even being brilliant, you wouldn't be able to understand such high-level physics." He smirked seeing that Artemus was hurt. He took a long breath then said, "When someone uses the time machine, it emits an electrical pulse on a special frequency through the portal, like a beacon. When the traveler needs to come back, he just has to press on the button of the bracelet he wears - that one, and it starts to emit the same electrical pulse, on the same frequency. Then the time machine activates the return sequence: it transmits order to the bracelet, to the traveler, converting him into an energy pattern. After that the machine, using a powerful electrical current attracts that energy pattern like a magnet and, once it passes the arch, the traveler is reconverted into matter."

Fascinated again, Artie said, really impressed, "That's a technological wonder indeed!"

Loveless bowed his head. "Thank you." He climbed onto the podium and opened a side box, revealing three dials, one was set to 1890, the other on the current date, day and month, and the last on the place where they actually were, the United States. "There are three buttons here", he explained. "If your turn the button on the left, you can set the year, and the one on the right, the date and if you turn this one in the middle you will set the place you want to go. You just have to select the letters to form the name." He had a wicked smile. "Get up Mr. Gordon, and come here and choose the place you want to go, the date and the year."

Artie shook his head, crossing his arms on his chest. "No."

Michelito Loveless frowned in irritation. "No? NO? No one says no to me!"

The older Secret Service agent smiled. "I just did, so sue me."

The short man gave a nod to the man standing behind Artemus aiming a gun at his back. "Baldwin, I want Mr. Gordon at my side, now!"

Baldwin holstered his Colt, roughly pulled Artie up and whirled him around. After that he started to punch his face… propelling the other man toward the podium.

Far too exhausted Artie didn't fight back.

His nose and lips bleeding, he finally joined Loveless who was grinning in triumph. The short man said, "No one resists me, Mr. Gordon." He paused and suddenly snapped his fingers twice. "Oh! I was going to forget something important!" He turned around and snapped his fingers at another of his minions. "Kendall, bring my other guest here."

Jim and Artie exchanged a surprised look. Other guest?

The two henchmen came back shortly after, framing… Lupita Quesada.

She glared at Michelito Loveless then she saw Artemus, his face reddened with his own blood standing beside Loveless Jr. and Jim, still 'intact' kneeling on the floor, two men pointing their guns at them. "Artemus!" she exclaimed focusing on the man she was in love with. She wanted to rush toward Artie but the guards grabbed her firmly, immobilizing her.

Swaying on legs like jelly, fatigue coming back in full force, Artemus exclaimed in surprise, "Lupita!" then suddenly his knees buckled as he felt a wave of dizziness come over him.

In a flash Jim stood up and was at his best friend's side. He grabbed Artemus's arm to steady him before he fell over and helped him to stay upright.

Still looking at Lupita, but now very worried, Artie asked, "Lupita, are you alright?"

Lupita nodded and frowned in concern. The two men looked like ghosts. "Yes I am. Dear God Artemus, what did he do to you? And to James too?"

Furious Artie shot Loveless Jr. his best black look. "Why did you kidnap her Junior? Let her go. She has nothing to do with your vengeance against Jim and me."

Michelito Loveless smiled. "I needed leverage, just in case you both tried to escape, to force you to come back. But you didn't. Don't worry Mr. Gordon; the lovely General here was well-treated. And I'm not a monster without a heart. I wasn't going to separate you permanently without letting you say goodbye. Kiss Miss Quesada goodbye, Mr. Gordon because you won't see each other again. Ever."

Frowning Lupita asked, "What do you mean by that?"

Loveless was happy to respond, "This machine here is a time machine. I'm going to use it to send your fiancé into time, for a one way voyage."

Lupita paled, shocked. "What? No! You can't do that!"

The short man offered her his best crocodile smile and nodded. "Oh, I can and I will, believe me."

Looking at Jim, frowning in concern, Artie said, "I'm okay. It's not over Jim. Our destiny is already written. We'll come back here, to our time and we will be together again. We'll put Loveless Jr. behind bars again, for good." He shook Jim's hand warmly then hugged him before parting from his best friend. "Take care buddy. See you." Then he headed toward Lupita, trying not to crumple on the floor. He pulled her against him and, one arm wrapped around her waist, he kissed her tenderly.

Lupita slipped her right hand into the hair at Artie's neck and pulled him even closer, deepening the kiss. They eventually pulled apart. Then Artie realized he was almost naked in front of Lupita and blushed furiously. "Oh… um… ah, er…"

Lupita smiled and brushed Artie's bearded cheek tenderly, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "You know I had to see you without your clothes or almost one day or another. You're handsome. I love you Artemus, and I will love you forever," she said.

Artie pulled Lupita into his arms and she clung to him. "I love you, Lupita, and I will come back, I promise. I will find a way or Jim will." He pressed his forehead against Lupita's. "We'll be together." They kissed again, and then he began to disentangle himself. "It's a promise."

Michelito Loveless waved his hand impatiently. "You shouldn't make those promises, because you won't be able to keep them Mr. Gordon." He gestured toward the command panel. "Come here and choose the place you want to go, the date and the year."

Reluctantly Artemus joined Loveless Jr. on the podium and complied.

Curious, the short man glanced at the settings, Puerto Verde, California, July 14, 1960, and frowned, intrigued. He said, "Interesting. Puerto Verde, California, July 14, 1960. Why that place and time period?"

Hiding a smile, Jim thought, 'Good thinking Artie! You'll be safe with Andamo, while I find a solution to get us out of this trap.'

Ignoring the short man's question, Artemus took his place in front of the arch. He shot the other man a cold look and said, "I will come back and I will put you behind bars again Junior. It's a promise I make to you, and I always keep my promises."

Loveless chuckled. "You won't keep this one, believe me."

Then he looked at Jim and Lupita, mouthed 'I'll be back' and, taking a deep, shuddering breath, he stepped into the intricate net of electrical discharge.

Artemus cried out in pain as electricity arched through him, his body jerking and twitching at the shock and at the intense burn - just for a few seconds. And he suddenly vanished.

Both Jim and Lupita gasped in shock at the same time.

Loveless grinned. "One gone, one to go…" He had just said that when suddenly one of the machines covering the walls let out a long whine and exploded like 4th of July fireworks. He was horrified. "No! No! Nooo! That's impossible! What happened?" then other huge sparks gushed from the machine and even flames. "No, no, noooo!" He cried out, helplessly.

Jim seized the opportunity to punch the two men standing behind him, knocking out both of them and, in a flash he grabbed a gun and fired at the two goons framing Lupita. They both collapsed on the ground, crying out in pain each with a bullet in their shoulders.

Then he pointed the Colt at Loveless Jr. and his voice cold as ice, he said, "Now you're going to repair the machine and bring Artie back!"

Michelito Loveless was shaking his head in disbelief, ignoring Jim. "I don't understand what happened. I had everything under control… It was probably a power surge…"

Placing the mouth of his gun against the other man's forehead, Jim ordered, "Bring Artie back!"

Loveless looked up at Jim, and raised his chin defiantly. "Or what? You're going to kill me? You can't. You need me."

Her eyes dark with anger Lupita who had picked a gun too aimed at the short man and fired – the bullet grazed Loveless arm leaving a deep, bloody cut in its wake and he yelped in both surprise and pain. "Do it, or the next time I swear that I'm going to turn you into a colander, limb by limb, until you comply."

His trembling hand pressed on his bleeding wound, Loveless nodded, grimacing. "Alright, but don't hurt me again!" He whined, then opened his eyes wide in terror as he saw the Mexican woman cocking the hammer of her gun. "I will! But first I have to rebuild that machine from A to Z - so Mr. Gordon is going to be stuck in the future for a while until the second machine is ready, especially since he doesn't have the bracelet."

Jim smiled. "I'll go get him wearing that bracelet. Then we'll travel back together."

Loveless shook his head. "You don't understand, I didn't calibrate the time machine to bring back two energy patterns and didn't calibrate it either to separate the two energy patterns. Once back, you could - fuse - with Mr. Gordon in one deformed body. Your plan is impossible Mr. West!"

Jim shook his head. "You claim that you're a genius, then make it possible!" He noticed a telegraph set sitting on a table. He glanced at Lupita and said, "I need to send a message to Washington. Don't let him go. If he tries to move, shoot him in the leg!"

Lupita Quesada placed the muzzle of the .45 under Loveless Jr.'s chin. "You're going to bring Artemus back," she said coldly.

Tbc.