THE NIGHT OF THE FAKE HAND

By Andamogirl

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Oval Office, a week later

Dr. Henderson, CMO of the Washington Military Hospital and Grant's personal physician put his medical report on the presidential work table.

He then looked at Artemus Gordon standing beside him. The agent stood at attention, pale and looking like he had been court-martialed a little while ago and was going to be executed in a matter of minutes. "Here's my report on Major Gordon's medical evaluation, Sir. I added the medical report written by Major McGarrett, CMO of Fort Bradley to the file, Mr. President."

Ulysses S. Grant opened the file and rapidly read the first report focusing on the underlined words like choking, respiratory arrest, upper airway badly bruised and swollen, loss of voice, broken ribs. Then he read the second file, focusing on the words written in bold, reading about multiple wounds to the back, legs, nape of the neck and scalp. Temporary hearing loss due to the explosion blast. He looked up at Artie. "It's quite interesting reading. Two medical records that will be added to the existing pile that Stephen keeps in his office," he said.

Artie read Grant's lips because he couldn't hear anything since the explosion, nothing but a buzzing and a continuous hissing. "Yes Sir."

Colonel Henderson nodded. "Major Gordon still can't hear but he can read lips, Sir," he specified. "One of his many talents."

Grant nodded. "What do you recommend for Artemus, Stephen?"

The physician looked at Artemus again and said, "I strongly suggest you to put Artemus out of duty for the next three weeks, Sir – then I'll do another complete medical evaluation to see if he's able to go back in the field again. His latest injuries and wounds have weakened his health – but it's not irreversible. He should recover with lots of rest and doing calm activities only."

Paling, Artie gulped. "Calm activities? What do you mean, Sir? he asked.

Henderson replied. "By that I mean no missions for you, Artemus, until I consider you fit to be in the field again, but a desk job."

Miserable Artie paled a little more and his face crumpled. 'No, not again' he thought.

If Artemus was unhappy, to say the least, President Grant was grinning happily. He would keep Artemus here, out of danger for the next three weeks, offering him the chance to be his personal secretary again he mused. And that position could be permanent, after that, he added in his mind. He was the President, he could do anything. He would give James West a new partner, Jeremy Pike or Frank Harper, two excellent agents. He would eventually adapt.

Pulling out a cigar from the side pocket of his jacket, the President said, "Then, Stephen, Mr. Gordon will be at my side again, as my personal secretary. He did a great job the last time he was assigned to me. And Edwins could take a well-deserved vacation." He paused watching the agent cringe for a split second and he added, "By the way, Artemus, I'm going to award you with a presidential citation for bravery – what you did a week ago was incredibly courageous, and you saved my life, twice. You deserve it."

Artie blushed with both pleasure and pride and he smiled. "Thank you, Sir." Then he again looked like his best friend had died.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Come in!" Grant said loudly, and then said best friend entered the vast room. He smiled pleased to see the younger man, as usual. "Ah, Jim! It's good to see you. What brings you here?"

Moving toward a sulking Artemus, Jim replied, "I came here as soon as I learned at the hospital that Artie was here, Mr. President."

President Grant nodded. "He has left the hospital, yes, but he's not in tip-top shape, for all I know. He needs plenty of rest and like Stephen here said, 'calm activities'. So I'm going to keep him at my side, away from field missions, offering the position as my personal secretary again for the next three weeks."

Lowering his head he older agent closed his eyes in resignation. He couldn't say 'I don't want to do that' to the President, his Commander in Chief.

He re-opened them a couple of seconds later, glancing at a point on the portrait of George Washington hanging on the wall in front of him and started his musing.

Grant liked him very much. He had kind of adopted him years before during the war, he thought. He was proud of it, and loved to be close to the ex-General, now President of the United States of America. He loved to be his confidant and a trusted friend, but that strong relationship also was a burden. The more years passed and the more the President was worried about him – noticing that he regularly ended up in hospital. Grant had a father's love for him and wanted to protect him. That's why he was so reluctant to let him continue to be in the field, doing dangerous missions. That's why he had already grounded him here in Washington for that reason – and offered him the job of being his personal secretary – and he didn't want to be stuck at that post a second time. His place was with James West – period. Even if he loved to work at Grant's side, enjoyed Washington life and especially loved the Capital's young and lovely women.

He opened his eyes and swallowed hard, noticing Grant's large satisfied smile – and knew that Grant would keep him here, at his side, forever! He knew it! And he would have no choice but to accept. He had to find a solution to avoid that… without telling Grant he didn't want to be his personal secretary again – and for the rest of Grant's tenure. 'Think old boy, think! Find something! Hurry!'… And after a few seconds, he found a way to be assigned definitively to his partner - and it would work.

Moving closer to the presidential desk Artemus said, "It was a pleasure and a great honor to be your personal secretary, Mr. President, I enjoyed that position a lot, for various reasons, but mainly because I was at your side…"

Suspecting something Grant frowned. "There's a 'but' coming…"

Launching his winning plan, Artie nodded. "Yes Mr. President. But my place is with James West working with him to protect you and this country, and – even if I love working at the White House - my place is not here, Sir, and I don't want to spend the next three weeks here either. I don't want to have any other assignment even a temporary one. I want to be Jim's partner – forever – I mean never leave him, until I get killed or retire and I would much rather die in my bed of old age. If you don't allow me that Mr. President you'll have my letter of resignation from the Secret Service by tonight."

Totally stunned Ulysses S. Grant blinked twice and almost dropped the lit match he was holding as he had just lit his long, fat cigar. "What?"

Starry-eyed Henderson echoed the President, "What?"

Following Artie's brilliant idea, Jim said, "And you will have mine too, Mr. President. You will lose your two best agents tonight, unless you promise not to separate us anymore, for whatever reason, and let Artemus do what he does best, field missions, with me."

The President frowned. "I can't believe it! That's blackmail! You are blackmailing me!" He growled like an angry bear and lit his cigar.

Standing beside Artemus, shoulder against shoulder in a brotherly gesture, Jim added, "You can have us both or lose us both."

He knew that Grant had no other choice but to accept his proposition. He couldn't lose what Colonel Richmond described as his 'best team.' Artie of course knew that too, smart move!' he thought.

His irritation dropping 'like a soufflé' Grant took his cigar out of his mouth, puffed a mini cloud of smoke and raised his hands in the air, defeated. "Alright, alright. I'm not going to discuss this. You win gentlemen. I don't want to lose my two best agents, I need you at my side and this country needs you too." He moved to Artemus and taking his arm in affection he added, "I won't give you any other assignment, I promise. James West and Artemus Gordon will stay together."

Both Artie and Jim grinned in relief – and victory.

Ulysses S. Grant continued, "I have to admit that my intention was to keep you here at my side Artemus, for the next three weeks - and beyond, because I wanted to protect you, and still want to. It's a natural reaction as I have a father's love for you since the war. But it was selfish of me to do that, I realize it now. Even if you were an outstanding personal secretary, like a fish in water here, your place is not here but at Jim's side, even if it means that I'm going to be worried about you again."

Feeling bad, Artie said sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to blackmail you… but I had no other choice but to do it to reach my goal, Sir."

Smiling, Grant patted the older agent's shoulder. "You're forgiven and please forgive me - and that was a smart move!"

Smiling, looking at his partner, then at Henderson, Jim said to the medical officer, "I'm going to take Artemus to the Wanderer, Colonel, and he will have plenty of rest. He'll take naps, read books, play chess, play his violin, work on inventions of his… very calm activities, Sir."

President Grant smiled mischievously. "And he will cook too? I'd like to verify that tomorrow evening's okay for dinner, and I love strawberry pie."

The two agents, still shoulder against shoulder both smiled. "It will be a pleasure Sir to have you for dinner, Sir," the said in a chorus, happily.

But first they had to celebrate Grant's decision in the best restaurant in Washington, the 'Coq Gaulois' and then, they would prolong the soirée evening in a cabaret which had just opened where they could meet all the lovely dancers ... Jim thought.

WWW

The next night on the Wanderer

Smiling Artemus raised his glass full of a very old brandy and said, "To the continuing adventures of James West and Artemus Gordon, may they last as long as possible."

Smiling too for the same reasons Jim added, "To blackmail – it works all the time, even with the President of the United States." He chuckled. "We're together again, buddy. No one will ever separate us, not even death because I'm sure we'll die together in order to continue to be together and forever in an afterlife." The he knocked his glass to his best friend's. "Salud".

They both gulped the liquor and Artemus said, "I was thinking about dying of old age in my bed, you know. But I suppose that with our kind of life, it's impossible."

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Jim surprised lifted an eyebrow and turned toward the door of the parlor car. They weren't expecting anyone, let alone at 3 AM.

Frowning, Artie asked, "What is it?"

Pointing at the door Jim said, "There was a knock at the door," And Artie, still temporarily deaf following the explosion read his partner's lips.

They both stood, took a gun from one of the drawers of the dresser, padded toward the door which Jim opened a few seconds later… to an empty rear platform. Or almost. There was a small package sitting there. The person who brought it had hurried away.

Looking around him, Colt in hand the younger agent didn't see anyone – but heard a fast footstep sound that was moving away - and in the background, the hubbub of the city.

He slid his gun in his belt, reached out, took the small package and came back inside, placing it on the work table.

Looking at his partner Jim asked, "What do you think? It's a bomb?"

Reading the other man's lips Artie nodded. "I think so, yes. People don't offer you boxes of chocolates in the middle of the night. Everyone in Washington now knows that I saved the President's life twice, once in stopping two explosive bullets with my bullet proof vest and then by throwing myself on Grant to protect him from an explosion – and I'm sure Polk's ex-Confederate friends would be very happy if I died – along with you Jim – in an explosion on board our train."

He placed his revolver on the coffee table.

Jim nodded. "Hmm, hmm… you're right, or it could come from one of our other mortal enemies, and the first on the list is Dr. Loveless. His elaborate scheme to kill the President failed because of us and every time that happens, he tries to kill us because he's mad at us."

Artie smiled and replied, "Speaking of that. He has to be careful. He could die of ulcers, ulcers brought on by the two of us constantly interfering with his plans!" Then he chuckled. "You imagine that? You would have killed him indirectly."

Pointing at the box Jim asked, "Do I open it?"

Artie took a cautious step back. "Be my guest, Jim." He watched as his best friend took a knife from the drawer of the work table then slowly and gently cut the brown paper. "Be careful."

Nodding, Jim removed the wrapping paper, revealing a wooden box with the golden letters MQL engraved on the lid. "MQL," he said.

Artie sighed. "MQL standing for Miguelito Quixote Loveless. Good guess Jim! It comes from Loveless. So it's a bomb."

He took another cautious step back.

Unfazed Jim opened the box, saying, "Not all Loveless's gifts are bombs, Artie, do you remember that musical box he sent to us?"

Artie nodded, "After we thought he and Antoinette were dead, turned into ashes? Yes, I remember. I almost broke my hand on it trying to open it."

Jim chuckled. "With a karate move. Tsk: tsk!" He found a folded piece of paper inside. He cautiously unwrapped it and discovered two bullets.

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Artie said, "Bullets?"

Jim took one of the projectiles between his fingertips and noticed the name 'Artemus Gordon' engraved on it and, palm opened, showed it to the other man who took it. "It's for you."

Even more surprised, the older man let out, "For me?"

Jim lifted the other bullet and read, "James West, it's for me." He paused and then added, "I think the message is clear."

Artie nodded. "He wants to kill us." Slumping on the closest couch between Marmalade and Aztec sitting sphinx-style there, he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Bah! He's not going to scare us with that. He should know by now that none of his threats can scare us, but I guess he can't help it, as it pleases him a lot to threaten to kill us." Moving the bullet upward closer to his eyes to examine it closely, he said, "I wonder if that bullet is an explosive bullet… It looks like an ordinary bullet, but what's inside is different from the ammunition we use. You know Loveless's deadly inventions are really fascinating… like his fake hand which was hiding a gun and a powerful explosive…"

Taking his place on the opposite couch, beside AG rolled in a fluffy ball, Jim nodded. "Fortunately for you Artie, he didn't invent armor-piercing ammunition. You would be dead right now because your bullet proof vest would have been useless."

Sitting on her haunches, Marmie sniffed at the bullet her owner was holding and hissed. Artie petted the cat's head soothingly. "Don't worry, it's not dangerous, not until it's in a gun…"

But the feline disagreed, its back arched and fur on end. Marmalade suddenly pawed the bullet sending it to the carpeted floor where it rolled under the table.

Climbing on Jim's lap, AG imitated Marmie and the bullet with 'James West' engraved on it disappeared under the armchair.

Immediately alarm bells rang in the two men's heads, thinking 'bombs' as they stood. They grabbed the cats and rushed into the galley.

Two seconds later there was an explosion that shook the whole car and volutes of black, acrid smoke invaded the parlor room – heavily damaged again.

Kissing the top of Marmie's head, Artemus said, "Good girl! You saved us…." He smiled when Marmalade rubbed her face against his cheek and saw Jim scratch behind his cat's ears proudly, AG starting to purr loudly. "AG knew too that those bullets where mini time bomb devices… I'm sure they heard the sound of the timer, so tiny it was imperceptible to the human ear – and they have a formidable instinct for danger, better than ours." He lowered Marmie and Aztec to the floor and then moved toward the side of the door. "Well, the dinner with the President is not going to happen."

Petting the black cat's fur, Jim said, "We'll eat your famous strawberry pie later. There are a lot of very good craftsmen in Washington, they'll do a very good job in no time, you'll see."

Nodding, Artie pressed on a button and there was a whirring noise. "And it depends on the amount of damage, but we'll find out very quickly in what state the parlor car is." He paused. "Hear that Jim? A good idea I had to install what I call an 'air extraction system' in the car after we were attacked last month by bandits using smoke bombs." He smiled proud of his invention. "Soon the smoke will be gone." He took the hot pot of coffee he had let on the stove to keep it warm and added, "Loveless has managed to miniaturize noise-less time bombs, I'm impressed. Even I wasn't able to do that, and I consider myself an expert in all kinds of bombs – and I'm jealous too." He pouted.

Placing a soothing hand on Artie's shoulder seeing that Artie was a bit upset, Jim said, "Don't be, you're a better inventor that he is." Settling AG on a stool, he added, "Once again our parlor is damaged… But at least we won't have to go to sleep in a fort."

Pouring coffee into the two mugs, Artie said, "True, and eat abominable food! But it won't be possible for me to take naps when the workers are there to do the repairs…"

Seeing a glint in Artemus's gentle chocolate eyes, saying 'I have a wonderful idea', Jim asked, "Then was do you propose?"

Artemus took a sip and replied, "I was thinking that we could to ask for hospitality from the Harlington sisters during the repairs ... Clara has a very comfortable bed to take naps ... among other things." Then he smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling, planning 'other things' with her. "And the last time you saw Abigael, her sister, you spent hours in her boudoir ... does she have a bed there?"

Jim responded with a broad smile.

The end.