The Gift

Forty-five and a half years after the Battle of Stones River, another U.S. Army crept through the cedar groves and boulder-strewn river country of Tennessee in the morning mists. The most battle-hardened U.S. President in a generation was not taking chances with a conspiracy of unknown numbers that would be armed to the teeth, possibly with superior weapons. One entire battalion was spreading out to meet the threat to a cherished land route that had been fought over and died for long before. Stealth, camouflage and a small handful of local scouts were being employed to ensure the success of the surprise mission. But most key of all to that success was going to be not the battalion's regular chain of command or any conventional military tactic, but rather a small and unlikely group of allies leading the charge in the most unconventional of ways.

"Ready?" Artemus West whispered to the U.S. Marshal on his right.

Jeffers gave a nod and a wicked grin.

Jimmy Gordon, well back from the head of the pack and in the unusual position of being guarded by his sister and a small group of well-armed prostitutes, watched as his brother-in-law and a small band of lawmen crept forward toward a quartet of sentries. The goal was to not allow the sentries get off any warning shout or fire a single shot before they and the ventilation shaft they guarded were captured. Jimmy was amazed at the speed and the willingness with which the President of the United States had managed to transport a couple hundred troops to help them with 'Operation Fumigation.' Even with such a force on their side though, there was a chance the day would see many casualties if they couldn't pull things off exactly as planned. It was difficult to impossible to corner an enemy who had so many escape tunnels and knew the lay of the land and underground hideout much better than they did. The entire army contingent didn't seem large enough to cover such a large area. Every soldier available would be needed at all those separate tunnel exits to battle the criminals pouring out. It was Jimmy's job, Tem and Mandy's and their group to serve as the sommeliers arranging that pouring.

Tem, like a silent and deadly mountain lion, moved forward faster than any of the other lawmen and was on all four of the gang's guards before they knew what hit them – literally. Jimmy had heard his father's stories about Uncle Jim many times – now it was like seeing one of those stories taking place before his very eyes. Jimmy saw his brother-in-law become a blur of motion for barely more than a second or two, faintly heard the blow of Tem's fists striking flesh, and three of the four guards were already down without a peep. Marshal Jeffers and one of his friends managed to tackle the fourth before Tem could nail that man too. That left the other lawmen with nothing but the cleanup job of removing the unconscious guards, binding and gagging them. Tem then gave the all-clear signal for Jimmy and Mandy to move up to the front with their small 'strumpet brigade' and a precious burden of lidded buckets of chemicals carefully pre-mixed by Artemus Gordon's clever son.

Your move, Gordon, Jimmy instructed himself. Don't blow it.

It was a good thing Mandy's 'fallen' friends had proved so eager to help out in what was a potentially very dangerous situation. Brave as they were otherwise, Marshal Jeffers' lawman allies had been nervous about carrying the buckets, though the contents were noxious, not fatal. Lucy Mapp and her crew didn't mind doing the dirty work provided they were paid well, and found it to be a lot less foul than their normal occupation. Also somewhat more gratifying. It wasn't every day that women kept at the bottom rung of society's ladder were given the chance to do something more exciting and meaningful than provide a service that kept them barely fed and kept them degraded.

Buckets set down in position, Jimmy signaled for the women to retreat back to where Jeffers' group was keeping watch over their prisoners. Tem, Mandy and Jimmy all then donned safety goggles and the black, rubbery artificial lungs. Working together, they unscrewed the protective cover/cage surrounding the ventilation system's main shaft, lifted it off and set it aside. There was one more prep task left to do before Jimmy's concoction got poured in. Jeffers, no slouch in the strength department, lifted a manhole cover borrowed from Murfreesboro's municipal works department. He also had on the only remaining artificial lung mask and set of safety goggles that Jimmy had brought on Wanderer II, as well as a pair of sturdy padlock clamps. What was going down would not be allowed to come back up. Everything in place, Jimmy uncovered the first of the three large buckets, then signaled for Mandy and Tem to uncover the buckets in front of each of them, grip them with both hands, and at Jimmy's nod, he, his sister and Tem poured the liquid contents straight down the shaft in one quick go. Jumping back, they made room for Jeffers to slam the manhole cover down on top of the shaft with a loud clang, and he and Tem moved like bandits to fasten on the padlock clamps before they all retreated away from the shaft opening. The entire operation had only taken seconds, but even through the goggles Jimmy could feel his eyes stinging and he'd have sworn he could smell his concoction through the artificial lung also. All of them, agents, prostitutes, and lawmen dragging prisoners beat a hasty path away as the results of the poured chemicals proved impressive. Those results would be even more impressive on the inside of the underground hideout, Jimmy knew. He permitted himself a moment of nasty satisfaction imagining the chaos he'd just created down below.

Well, Professor Niebhausen, do I get a passing grade?

Someone must have thought so, because from other parts of the cedar-dotted landscape, they could already hear shouts and screams echoing through the woods, and the popping of rifle fire. With any luck, the smugglers who managed to get out through the exits would be coughing and shedding tears too hard to put up much of a fight, and would have the sense to surrender. Not all of them would, of course. Jimmy felt a pang of regret that their group hadn't been able to release all of the gang's horses from the stables first, but from Tem's description of it, the horses at least would be near open air. The next few hours would be frightening and unpleasant for them, but they should recover. So should any member of the conspiracy who couldn't find their way to the exits – the compound was horrible but not fatal - but Jimmy wasn't going to feel sorry for them, or for Joseph Ratch.

It had taken all of Jimmy's courage to get anywhere near nasty Ratch when they'd gone with the Marshal to pick the rat up from the improvised prison room Lucy and her 'girls' had stashed him in. Ratch had given Jimmy a scare too, cursing and lunging at the one-eyed sight of his intended victim still alive. That had earned Ratch a parasol thrust in the solar plexus and a very nearly broken collar bone from Mandy, Blackbelt Mistress of Brolly Fu. When Jeffers picked the criminal up off the floor, asking if that wasn't excessive use of force and Mandy smiled and said it wasn't nearly excessive enough, Ratch had become a whole lot meeker and more cooperative.

The crack of a bullet into a nearby tree and a stinging whiff of chemicals reminded Jimmy that they weren't out of the woods yet in any sense. Now came the danger part. The commander in charge of the army battalion knew what their group's position would be. That didn't mean they couldn't still be taken out by friendly fire – or an unfriendly attack. Tem and the Marshal barked for everyone to get down as they drew their revolvers. Jimmy didn't argue. He crouched down in the leaf mold as far as he could, glad to let others do the fighting. He had been armed with a gun too, but he still wasn't sure how well he'd be able to use it. Most of the women were being covered by lawmen, though Jimmy could sense Mandy hovering near him, also with a gun drawn. A group of straggling strangers – members of the smuggler's gang – were headed toward their position and firing at them. A pitched gun battle started to break out all around them.

Heart pounding, Jimmy drew his own revolver. Do or die time again, and he didn't want it to be die. But he found he couldn't fire, not from cowardice, but because other members of their small band were in the way. Mandy might be good enough to shoot around their own people without hitting them; Jimmy knew he wasn't. Still, when an opening appeared, he somehow managed to point the barrel at one of the hostiles and pull the trigger. The gun in his hands roared and recoiled with enough force to make his wrist hurt, and he saw one of the men who'd been shooting at them grab his wounded arm right before being taken down all the way by someone else's bullet.

I just shot someone. My god . . . .

Well, it was one way to find out the answer to a question that had been in his mind for weeks. Not a way he'd be happy about, but he'd live with it. He hoped. Jimmy looked down at the smoking object in his hand when too late he looked back up and saw a gang member with a rifle drawing a bead on Marshal Jeffers. Oh no! Someone else had seen the rifleman first. Jimmy and Jeffers both barely had time to register the enemy gunman's presence before a bullet to the chest took the sniper and his rifle's aim out of the picture. Jimmy glanced back and saw that the sharpshooter who'd just saved Jeffers life was none other than Lucy Mapp.

Then, as quickly as it had started, the fight was over. One of Jeffers' friends, a fellow U.S. Marshal, had taken a bullet in the shoulder. Jimmy saw that Tem had a small grazing wound in one arm as well. Jimmy felt a moment of panic as he saw that a bullet had torn through a piece of Mandy's skirt, before realizing it hadn't torn through a piece of Mandy. She was fine. So was he, he realized. And no other casualties among their crew. The reality of his first gunfight was the thing that struck him. The battle had lasted for how long – minutes? Seconds? An eternity? Jimmy didn't know, but he bet it would be staying with him for a long time to come.

It would be staying more permanently than that with the gang members who'd been firing on them. All were dead, except one, who was badly wounded. They might have had plenty of weapons, but that was a very different thing from knowing how to use them against hardened, trained gunfighters. At Tem's hand signals, the lawmen, Jimmy and the rest of their little band stayed low as gunfire continued to ring out from various directions in the distance. They had done their part. Now it was their job to stay out of the way while the United States Army did the rest. At some point before the Sun had reached its zenith, all sounds of fighting stopped. They waited where they were, cramped, hot and uncomfortable, tending to the injured Marshal and their other minor injuries as best they could. It was all in the hands of the military now. Not long after the gunfire stopped completely, a military officer on horseback rode up and found them. Several long distance arm gestures and shouts later, Jimmy and the others were led off of the battlefield. The second battle for Hell's Half-Acre was over.

Jimmy stumbled along, his thoughts a jumble, as everything that had happened to him in the past week caught up with him fast. Mandy walked alongside him and Tem in front, no one saying much until they came within sight of what the morning of terrible striving had accomplished. The army battalion was marching a long string of prisoners, some injured, some not, under heavy guard to where a series of armored prison wagons awaited. There were bodies being piled up into another wagon too – not army bodies. The people who'd wanted to cause death and destruction for profit had gotten their death and destruction, but not profitably.

"I think I shot a man," Jimmy murmured to Mandy.

"I know you did," she murmured back. She put a hand on his shoulder. Jimmy knew this wasn't her first gun battle. He had to ask her something.

"Do you ever get used to it?"

"No," she replied. "And that's a good thing. Dad told me once you should never get used to it. He had to draw his gun a lot, but he told me the important thing is to remember what it is you're doing with it, and to know what you're doing it for. You don't ever take a thing like that for granted."

Jimmy didn't think he could, but it was reassuring to hear her say it.

As their straggling walk took them closer to the military lines, the battalion's commander, a Lieutenant-Colonel, motioned for the group to come over. To the crisp-uniformed military officer they must have been an odd, sorry-looking lot: an assortment of rumpled U.S. Marshals, deputies, sheriffs, armed women of easy virtue, and three fatigued Secret Service agents, at least two of whom did not look the part. Jimmy didn't know what to expect next, but it wasn't what happened then. The Lieutenant-Colonel stood up straight, faced them directly, smiled a tight but appreciative smile, and gave them all a very official-looking salute. Tem and the other men returned that salute, as did Mandy and, after a hinting squeeze on the shoulder, Jimmy. Behind them, Lucy and the other women were trying to restrain their laughter.

"First time anyone's ever saluted us!" Jimmy heard one of the women snicker.

If the Lieutenant-Colonel noticed, he didn't seem to mind it.

"At ease!" the officer grinned. "The objective has been taken, and with a minimum of casualties." Jimmy assumed he was referring to the Army, not the smugglers. "Your nation owes all of you a debt of gratitude."

This prompted an unrestrained giggle from the back gallery. Colonel Longworth had already pledged, via telegraph message, that the Wests' 'local volunteers' would be rewarded with more than just gratitude. And they'd already heard earlier the women's snorts and jokes at Longworth's mention of their being 'of service to their country'! The Mapp gals apparently found local custom quite enough to handle.

"Jimmy! My boy!"

Jimmy was shaken to hear an all-too-familiar voice call out to him as an all-too-familiar figure tried breaking out of the line of prisoners to run toward him. A pair of soldiers grabbed Professor Niebhausen before he managed to get very far, which was just as well, since Jimmy had no particular desire to see the man shot right in front of him for trying to escape. Tem murmured something to the Lieutenant-Colonel about the professor being one of the gang's ringleaders and a scientist who bore special watching. As the officer ordered his men to pull Niebhausen away from the rest, the professor must have thought he had some chance yet to get a special dispensation. He was putting on his most 'wounded innocence' expression as he looked imploringly at his former pupil. It made Jimmy feel sick. Jimmy had never been quite able to mimic Uncle Jim or Tem's angry glare, but he did his best now.

"Hello, Professor," he said coldly.

"Tell them!" the professor implored. "Tell them I am your teacher from the University of Chicago! That I am a great scientist who can do them a lot of good! Tell them!" Seeing these words having no desired effect on the younger man, Niebhausen tried a different tack. "I did try to save your life, you know!"

"After having me kidnapped, you mean?" How could this man possibly think Jimmy would overlook a thing like that? "You belong behind bars with the rest of them."

"But I'm a scientist!" the professor pleaded again. "I could accomplish so much!"

"And you'll have plenty of time to think about that where you're going," Mandy growled, stepping between her brother and the professor defensively.

Jimmy was quite content to see his former mentor hauled away. His sister was right. Thought experiments were the only kind the professor would be allowed to carry out from now on, assuming he didn't hang. Only time and a trial might reveal just how many crimes the man had committed in his unhinged and unprincipled pursuit of research.

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a bit of a daze for the Secret Service's youngest field agent. Their little company was given food, drink and first aid and allowed to disperse while the U.S. Army went about the serious follow-up business of setting up camp. Not all of their group chose to disperse, or at least, not right away. Bill Jeffers thanked Lucy Mapp sincerely for saving his life and paid great compliments to her shooting skill and steel in battle.

"Reckon I still have a lot to learn about womenfolk!" he laughed.

"Reckon I could teach you," Lucy replied with an appreciative appraisal of the Marshal's not inconsiderable physique.

"I'll bet you purely could!" Jeffers grinned back.

Jimmy heard Mandy whisper to Tem that she bet purity had nothing to do with it. This might have been confirmed when both of the individuals in question vanished shortly after that conversation.

The battle might be over, but the full mop-up operation was going to take days, if not weeks. The soldiers would have to wait at least a day for Jimmy's chemical offensive to start clearing out before they could fully search the tunnels, although one area that seemed to contain a suspiciously large amount of armaments had been identified already and was being secured by special troops wearing gas masks. All of the entrances and exits to the gang's headquarters would have to remain under watch full time until every inch of the underground maze could be checked out and cleared of dangers and any smugglers that might remain. Jimmy was relieved to see someone had gotten the trapped horses out and the poor animals were being cared for. Jimmy himself felt in a bit of a daze and wanted nothing more than to go back to Wanderer II, clean himself up and collapse. But Tem and Mandy were determined to stay while all the prisoners got checked over and checked off. They were looking for one gang leader in particular, and not finding him. There was no sign of the scar-jawed man in the red hat.

"Probably got the hell out of Dodge when he realized Bill and I hadn't died and Ratch had disappeared," Tem sighed. "He's still out there somewhere."

"We'll find him," Mandy said, putting an arm around her husband's shoulders. "He can't hide forever."

Jimmy felt their frustration too. Such a distinctive-looking villain ought to be easy to catch, but they didn't even know his name, and neither did the people who worked for him, apparently. Jimmy had a feeling the three of them were in for one heck of a ride and said as much.

"I guess that's what partners are for," Tem said. He held out his hand. "Partners?"

Mandy placed hers on his without hesitation.

"Partners," she answered.

Jimmy's hand was smaller than theirs, but he managed to cover most of theirs with his own anyway. "Partners," he said.

He felt so different now from the grieving boy who had boarded a different train taking the three of them from Chicago to Washington D.C. only weeks ago. But he balked when Tem made a comment about how much he'd grown up over those weeks.

"We'll have to start calling you Jim instead of Jimmy," his brother-in-law grinned, nodding to the younger man in a respectful way.

"No!" Jimmy stammered. "I mean . . . ." He knew it felt wrong, but how could he put it into words? "I just . . . . I'd like that to still be Uncle Jim's name for now. If that's all right with you."

"It is," Tem said. "It will always be his name. But it's yours too. When you're ready for it."

Jimmy didn't know yet when that would be. He was becoming an adult, ready or not. Names were a part of that. So were a lot of other things, but . . . .

Something in him needed a hug right now, and his sister must have sensed it, because she put an arm around him as well as Tem, and gently hugged them both.

"Can . . . can I still call you Mandy?" Jimmy asked her.

She laughed.

"You, and you alone, brother. Always."

Together, the three of them looked out over the battlefield they'd fought on – the same one that Jim West had fought on nearly forty-six years earlier. They watched as the last members of this part of a vast criminal conspiracy were led away to face accounting for their crimes. The children of James West and Artemus Gordon had been tested and survived. More than that, they had struck a great blow against evil as their fathers had done so many times before them. The task was far from over, but they knew their own determination. What Jim West had begun, they would finish. Today was proof of that.

"You realize what today is, don't you?" Mandy asked in a hushed tone as they stood there.

Tem nodded first. Jimmy felt befuddled for a moment or two, having lost track of time during the past week, but then he too remembered. Today was a very special day.

Tem took a small object out of one of his pockets and held it up in his open palm. The shiny metal souvenir medallion glimmered in the sunlight.

"Happy birthday, Dad," he whispered.

Together as a family they walked back toward the train they all called home.