Shadow Storm E-Book

Michael R. Stern

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

When he opened a portal into the Oval Office, Fritz Russell agreed to help make the world a safer place. He saved hostages, prevented a nuclear war, and began a life of excitement and danger he never saw coming.

Now, a terrorist group has captured the President, and Fritz must turn to the portal as a weapon to save him. Soon, unrest escalates and Fritz becomes a target himself.

The portal may be the only way he can save the president and end the growing danger. But against a power that will stop at nothing to bring chaos to the world, can Fritz prevail?

Leseprobe

Shadow Storm

Quantum Touch Book 3

Michael R. Stern

Copyright (C) 2018 Michael R. Stern

Layout Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Cover Mint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Chapter 1

“ARE THEY CLEAR?” With elbows resting on the hand-tooled leather surface of his mahogany desk in a room the size of most houses, the man listened through the crackling. “American troops? Inside? How do you know?” He absorbed the answer and glanced at the colorful Chinese wood panels and his eclectic collection of antiques. “If they weren't close, how could they know they were Americans?” He was growing red. “The Eledorians are still denying involvement. That will work.” He tapped his fingers hard enough to imprint the leather desk pad. “Get them out.”

For a moment, he contemplated the importance of his next call. “There were American troops. I don't know where they came from. A few of our men were killed. We didn't change anything.”

“Nonsense. Don't worry about the dead. We don't have to pay them. We achieved our purpose. We have their attention. The Eledorians deny involvement. The Narians are impotent. Everyone points fingers. And the Americans don't know which way to turn. We have them all where we want them. Now watch the stock market.”

“We don't need the money.”

“You wanted, no, insisted, we do this from the inside, so we need the money. We still don't own enough candidates, and the elections are going to be expensive. We have to be ready. We don't want more of the same. We need the money. Unless, of course, you want to spend your own.”

There was no response. The man in the elegant office knew he could indeed spend his own, he had plenty, but why should he when a little manipulation added still more. “Of course not,” he finally said. “But he'll be gone in a year and half. Why be so blatant?”

“Because uncertainty breeds fear. Fear wins elections, and even better, scared people don't want more of what made them afraid. Your grandfather taught you that many years ago.”

“Then we move to the next … performance.”

THE PRESIDENT sat at his desk in the Oval Office, watching the cable news coverage from Naria. The Secretary of Defense and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs sat on the couches. Reporters had been allowed into Naria early in the day and had been interviewing people throughout the capital. The reporter said the general response had been overwhelming happiness and relief that their government had come to its senses. One of the reporters had managed to catch a senior official who said only that the Narians expected an equal response from the West. “End the sanctions.”

“We're not going to rush on that score,” said the president. “I've had no contact from the leader and there have been no feelers from any of his partners.” He looked exhausted. His quick trip to Riverboro High School the previous night had not led to a good night's sleep. He'd had to work as soon as he returned to Washington. The portal had performed as hoped, but he had to keep it under wraps.

The secretary said, “Mr. President, I think you know that Mr. Russell and his people are not likely to disclose what happened, but can we trust the Israelis to be quiet?”

“I had a long talk with the prime minister, Charlie. His biggest threat is gone. He rescued his people. You saw the reports. All wrong, but he gets the credit. I don't think he wants to make me angry. At least not for now.”

General Beech said, “Colonel Mitchell is writing an after-action report, but he told me he has questions about what really happened. 'Misgivings,' he said. He doesn't think the Eledorians were real soldiers, at least not Eledorian soldiers.”

The president frowned. “Get me a copy of the report, please, General.”

“Yes, sir. You should know his report complimented Mr. Russell, Mr. Gilbert, and the rest. The colonel said he wouldn't hesitate to work with them again.”

“I'm glad. They're good people. I like them a lot. I hope we don't need them again too soon.” He remembered the first time Fritz walked in on him and told the assembled group the story of that first portal visit and his own adventure going back to New Jersey that afternoon. An image of Robert E. Lee ran through his head. “I'll call him later.”

FRITZ RUSSELL packed his briefcase with a weekend's worth of work and headed for the parking lot. Ashley Gilbert was waiting for him. “The president hasn't called.”

“Given what happens when he does, I'd think you'd be delighted.”

“Well, yeah. I do hope he'll give us this weekend off. I have a lot of grading to do. You want to come for dinner?”

“Yeah, that would be great. Really. I've been eating sandwiches all week. But I expect better food this weekend. I'm going to DC tomorrow and Sunday.”

“Sightseeing?”

“You might call it that. I've been told that Washington has some exceptional landmarks.” Ashley grinned.

They ate dinner early, and Ashley didn't hang around. Fritz and Linda were sitting on the sofa watching the news, when Linda said, “Wow! That kick. Like a field goal. Here, feel.” She placed his hand on her growing belly.

“Nope, I think it's a soccer game.”

THAT EVENING, the president worked late. Colonel Mitchell's conclusion that the soldiers weren't really the Eledorian army troubled him. He jotted notes on a pad that rested on his leg and watched the purple sunset cast shadows across the South Lawn. He wanted more intelligence.

Earlier, he had consulted with the leaders of England, France, Germany, Russia, and Turkey about the Narian announcement but said nothing about what had really happened. He had then spoken to the Israeli Prime Minister about an upcoming summit. Before the conversation ended, the prime minister asked if he could offer an appropriate reward for “the people from the school.”

SLEEPING IN on Saturday wasn't in the cards. When Linda came to the kitchen, Fritz's papers, laptop, and a cup of coffee occupied the table. A website on the age of exploration stared at her when she kissed him.

“Are you including yourself in the lesson?” she asked.

“Hi, Ash. When did you get here? Hmm. You look like Linda.” He stood and kissed her. “How do you feel?”

“I'm okay. Glad I didn't get up early. I spent too much time on my feet this week.” He poured her a cup of coffee. They talked about Naria and how the people interviewed in the street were smiling. Linda told him about a woman who had said she was happy because she didn't have to worry about being bombed.

“It's kind of quiet without Ashley having popped in by now,” she said. “He's smitten. But she's going to be a problem for him.”

“He'll figure it out. It's a nearby trip, as commuting relationships go, but still, I'll bet he's single again by Christmas. She's just so different from all the other women he's dated. She's either brave as hell or just plain crazy. Do you want breakfast?”

THE SUNROOM, with books lining shelves from floor to ceiling, was probably not the best place for Fritz to work. Its windows tempted him to daydream. But the quiet snapped when a phone call dragged his eyes back from the outdoors.

“Hi. What's up?”

The president laughed. “I guess you're getting used to my calling. Hi, Fritz. I haven't bothered you so you could get some downtime. The prime minister asked me to convey his appreciation. Right now, I'm outside Bethesda Naval Hospital. I came to see how Jane's doing, and it seems she has company. I just left.” His smile seeped through the phone.

“Ashley, I expect.”

“Yeah. I think I may have created a monster. Mr. Gilbert's apparently been here since first thing this morning. Her doctor said that he sweet-talked his way past everyone.”

“That figures. How is she?”

“Going home this afternoon. She's still weak and in a lot of pain, but I think she'll have an attentive nurse. He might make her take it easy. Fritz, I've known her for quite a while now, and Ashley has changed her. She smiles more.”

“We've known him forever, Mr. President. I've seen him with lots of women, but last weekend, wow. I'll tell you this. He surprised me when he went to rescue her, not knowing if there was live fire.”

“Pretty gutsy, I agree. I'm beginning to think your visit to the Oval Office is proving to be really lucky. Not just because of the good the portal has made possible, but for the people I've seen do extraordinary things.” Fritz grinned at a compliment he had never expected.

“Thanks. Is there something I can do for you, Mr. President?”

“Fritz, on a personal basis, I can't thank you enough. But I keep forgetting to tell you. The prime minister wants to reward you all. Maybe an all-expenses trip. And in your mail next week, you'll find more tangible thanks. I intended to tell you yesterday, but we had some distractions. Once things settle down, maybe we can get together for dinner.”

“Mr. President, thank you. But do me a favor. Stay out of trouble for a few weeks. Let me get back to teaching. Linda could do without the extra stress too, and we need to set up a nursery. Pretty mundane after this week, but kind of important, you know.”

“I'll talk to you soon. If you need anything, give me a call.”

“Okay, thanks. Say hi to the First Lady.”

Chapter 2

THE SUN CALLED in sick. When Fritz arrived at school, he felt a shock as he grabbed his classroom doorknob. He rubbed his fingers. That shock meant the portal could be opened and a trip would be possible. He reached into his pocket and removed his desk key. As long as the key was not in his desk lock, the portal would remain unconnected and the paperclips wouldn't do their job. There must be a storm nearby for me to have gotten a shock, he thought. If this lasts all day, I won't need the planes and generator. So instead of going in, he went across the hall, where Sandy Horton, Ashley's no-longer girlfriend, was preparing to start the day. “Sandy, what are you doing right after school?”

“Packing. Why?”

“Give me the Shakespeare book. I just got a shock. I think there's a storm coming. If it hits, the portal should be open.”

“Really? Can we really go?” Sandy's face brightened. She handed him the book, paperclips placed throughout.

“We can only go to one of these,” he told her, handing it back. Sandy thumbed to each marked section and removed all but one clip. On the way back to his own room, Fritz looked at the page that she had chosen.

IT FELT LIKE a short day. The last classes zoomed by like the clouds outside. Lightning flashed when the final bell rang, and Sandy walked in before his students were gone. After the room cleared, he said, “We don't know exactly where we'll be or what we'll find, and we're clearly not properly dressed.” Fritz cleared his desk and put the key in the desk lock. They returned to the hall as Ashley walked out of his classroom. Although he was hesitant to approach, his curiosity got the better of him.

“Hi, guys. Where are you going? To see Shakespeare?”

“Ash, keep your voice down.”

“You're really going? Can I come?”

Fritz glanced at Sandy, who said yes. “Okay. When I open the door, go in quickly. We're likely to frighten whoever is there.” They walked through and found themselves in a dark, empty hallway with plank floors and wooden walls.

“Mr. Shakespeare,” Sandy called.

From a room to their left, a scraping sound resonated, and a young man with a high forehead and mustache stepped to the doorway. Seeing three strangers, he tried to close his shirt as he cocked his head to get a better view. “I am Will Shakespeare. What is it you want?”

Sandy said, “Mr. Shakespeare, we are travelers. We have come to meet you and speak of your writing.”

“What do you know of my writing?”

“It is a tale worthy of your talents, sir. Would you hear it?”

“I am not prepared for guests, but come in.” They followed him into a small room with a fireplace and a desk facing a grimy window. A sheet of parchment and quill lay on the desk. Two chairs furnished the corners.

“My name is Sandra Horton. My companions are Fritz Russell and Ashley Gilbert.”

“You said you wish to speak of my writing. What is your purpose?”

“Your plays, Mr. Shakespeare. We would like to ask some questions about them.”

Fritz spoke, choosing his words with precision. He had studied the writer's history and learned that although Shakespeare sold his plays, he acted to earn his living. “Mr. Shakespeare, we are travelers from the north. Your work is known and appreciated. We are teachers who have traveled far to speak to you.”

Sandy asked, “What are you working on now?”

Shakespeare studied his strangely-attired guests and said, “A story of young lovers and their battling families.”

“In Verona. Romeo and Juliet,” Sandy said.

“What did you say?” Shakespeare asked.

“Romeo and Juliet,” she repeated.

“I must write that down. I have struggled to name them. But how did you know the play is set in Italy?” Fritz realized that they must have traveled to 1594.

Sandy said, “Your story, sir, is most excellent, yet lamentable.” Shakespeare tilted his head, picked up a quill and wrote what she had said.

“You've a way with words,” he said. “I do like that.”

Fritz said, “Mr. Shakespeare, I have not completed my story.” Shakespeare ignored him, continuing to stare at Sandy.

“Sir, the way with words is yours, truly,” she said.

Fritz asked, “Can you tell us somewhat of life here in London?”

Recognizing his reluctance, Sandy said, “Please, sir. We wish you no harm.”

“England is rife with distrust and suspicion. London hides the devil himself. The religions battle, the Church of England wars with Rome. A wrongly spoken word, and off to the hangman. Even I have run afoul of provocateurs who claim I am a servant of Rome.” At that moment, a skittering sound came from behind a wall. “Rats. The demons. Night and day, they disturb my peace.”

“The plague?” Fritz asked.

“Ah, the plague. Not only a killer but a constant cause of theater closures. My livelihood is a full theater. A closed one is unfriendly to my purse.”

Ashley said, “The Queen is your patron and has seen your plays performed. What is life at court like?”

“You know much of me. Yet I have not seen you before.” He inspected his unusual and unexpected visitors. “Life at court is alive with intrigue. I trust no one but perform to please. Her Majesty, I am told, enjoys the spectacle we provide.”

“Where is your family?” asked Ashley.

“My wife and children live in Stratford-on-Avon, at my father's home, where I was born. I visit when work allows. Time does not often permit. Our company performs to large crowds, and I must write to please their lust for the new and different. Without it, my competitors, Marlowe and Jonson, fill their own pockets with my audience's coins.”

“You could say, sir, the play's the thing,” Sandy said.

A smile came to his face. “You could indeed.” He picked up the quill and made a note. Noise from the street brought him to his feet. Unsure of the source, he wiped the pane and watched as the soldiers of the guard marched past. “Much ado about nothing, but I must ask you to excuse me. I must prepare for this evening's performance. Mayhap we shall meet again, at the theater.”

As he ushered them to the hall, Ashley reached to shake his hand. “An enjoyable meeting. All's well that ends well.” The portal glimmered at the end of the hall. With Fritz leading, they went back to New Jersey.

“Oh, wow, thank you, Fritz. That's a great going-away present.”

“Sandy,” said Ashley, “you just named a Shakespeare play. You created history. That's incredible.”

She laughed as she said, “Thanks, Ash. I took it from a great source. Too bad no one will ever know.”

“We will,” said Ashley. “Every time I read it or even hear the name, I'll think about you.” She hugged him, wiped her eyes, and crossed the hall to her own classroom.

Fritz whispered, “Good job.”

FRITZ THOUGHT it felt much later than only the third week of school. So much had happened. Sandy's sudden decision to move to a better position in her hometown should have been the biggest surprise of the new school year. But after the first day of classes, the president had visited Fritz's home with a full entourage that included the Secretary of Defense, the director of the CIA, and Dr. Jane Barclay, an Army major who worked for Homeland Security and as a White House advisor. They wanted Fritz to open the portal for a military operation to enter Naria and destroy its nuclear facilities. George McAllister, the principal, was not wild about using the school as a staging area, but he agreed.

The Narian mission succeeded, but the Eledorians immediately attacked an Israeli village in response. When they took the entire population hostage, the president asked to use the portal to save them. The rescued villagers left captivity through the high school. The circle of those who knew about the portal was growing. In the meantime, Ashley and Jane Barclay had discovered one another.

The students had returned from summer vacation with an abundance of energy and excitement about their schoolwork. Fritz had never seen anything like it and had to do extra work to match the kids' sudden enthusiasm. Ashley went to Washington to visit Major Barclay, who had been wounded in the missions to Naria and Israel. He was about to go back.

Fritz and Linda were not surprised by Ashley's interest in her, but they couldn't see it lasting. At dinner one night, they all talked about it. “She's different, Ash,” Linda said. “What would ever make you think she's your kind of woman? Especially the army part. She follows orders, plans battles, works with spies. She won't be able to tell you what she does or where she goes.”

Without waiting a breath, Ashley answered. “Opposites attract. She's smart, fun to talk to, Lin. She quoted T. S. Eliot, and before she crawled into the fight, she turned to me and quoted from Henry the Fifth. Who thinks like that? I think we'll have a lot of fun.”

Linda asked, “Amazing that she's healed enough to go to a party. Hey, do you have a decent suit to wear?”

“Oh, please. I am not an idiot. And you're still not a mom. I ordered a new suit. Custom. Please, guys. Off my back.”

Fritz tried not to look stunned. “No, you're not stupid. But you and Jane ought to figure out a good story about how you met. Sans portal. The truth won't set you free.”

THE OTHER EXCITEMENT of the new school year came from the sky; the weather cooperated with Fritz's travel itinerary and let him portal to the past. He and Ashley went to see the Battle of Gettysburg up close and to meet young Ernest Hemingway in Paris. He went alone to ask Robert E. Lee for advice about using the portal for a military purpose and then went again after the missions had been completed.

“BACK AGAIN, Mr. Russell.” Lee offered Fritz a cup of tea. “I've told Mary about our visits and how delightful they are. I think she believes that you really have come from the future. But tell me, were you able to make a decision?”

“I did. Thank you for your counsel, General. The mission succeeded. But given what I saw, I can't imagine how hard fighting a war must have been.”

Lee's sharp focus became a far-away stare. “I still see the blood and explosions. I hear the screams and cries. Sometimes sleep is only nightmares.” He sighed. “Providence guided my hand, Mr. Russell. And He found me unworthy.”

Chapter 3

“SO YOU WANTED to tell me something?” Ashley asked as they crossed the parking lot.

“We had visitors on Saturday, George and Lois.” Fritz pulled on his jacket. “Lois wondered if Sandy is leaving because she's pregnant.”

“She's not.”

“We know. George actually asked her. Can you imagine? She told him to calm down. But she's not happy she had to do it. She's also confused. When Linda and I told you that she seemed to be getting serious and that you should tell her if you weren't equally committed, we'd didn't mean that you should be abrupt and leave her with no explanation. She's wondering now if she did something to piss you off. And she was so upset when George talked to her that she gave him too much information. So he asked me why you had behaved so strangely. His words. He talked about firing you.”

“What!” Heads in the parking lot twisted toward them. “Does he think I'm gay and that he can fire me. That's nuts. He should know me better. Or at least Lois should. I am now prepared to say I'm gay just to give the old bigot a court case. He should also know, or Lois should, that he can't fire someone for being gay. Or for not having slept with his girlfriend. I wouldn't even have to take it to federal courts as a civil rights case. This is one of the states that says he can't, and…”

“Calm down, Ash. I told George that it wasn't any of his business and that you just have a history of being unable to get serious.”

“Do you remember the French teacher from when I first started here? Andrea Porter?”

“Yeah. Your first run-in with George.”

“Right. He was an idiot. He didn't oppose it on reasonable grounds, like pressure from a senior staff member on a newer one. Though it probably never occurred to him that a woman could be a senior anything. He fussed about school morale because she was so unhappy, which she would have been no matter whom she'd been dating. Yes, whom. No eyebrow raising. I'm an English teacher. But after that, I never dated another teacher from Riverboro. Until Sandy. Sandy was different. I could kill George right now.”

“I get it, Ash. It just would have made things easier on Sandy if you had attributed your cutting things off to your having a character flaw. But that's what I can't figure out. Not being kind about a breakup isn't like you. Not being kind about anything isn't like you. You're doing lots of things that aren't you. Like walking into combat when you couldn't see what you'd be facing. Like buying a custom-made suit. Like missing the first football game. Even like Sandy. When did you ever date the same woman for six months? Like getting your hair styled.” Fritz paused. “Ash, maybe the portal is changing you.”

Ashley looked like a dog that had stopped charging and turned home at a trot. “Last week, you said George was changing. Now me. Maybe you're right. We need to think about this some more.”

“Want to come for dinner?”

“Not tonight. I need sleep. I didn't get home until two.”

Chapter 4

LATER, Fritz told Linda about meeting Shakespeare with Sandy and how angry Ashley had been about the McAllisters' story. She said, “That's nice. Now stop using the portal.” As angry as Ashley had been, Linda burned more fiercely. Until he told her that Ashley had hired a cleaning service. She couldn't not laugh.

Chapter 5

THE PRESIDENT announced a Middle East summit to be held during the last week of October in Geneva. At the start of his first class on Thursday, a student asked Fritz's opinion about it, prompting a discussion of the history of crises in the Middle East. Fritz wondered how many times his classes over the years had done that.

THAT AFTERNOON, Linda called.

“Hi love, what's up?”

“Are you sitting?”

“What's wrong?”

“Everything's fine. Just that you got two letters from the president. I figured you'd want to hurry home and read them.”

“Open them.”

“Fritz, I think you should see them first. The envelopes are embossed. There's a really neat stamp I've never seen before. I can wait, but hurry.”

“I'm leaving now. I have a story.”

Ashley had just come into the hallway. As they walked out together, Ashley said he had something to tell him, but he couldn't talk then.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” asked Fritz.

“Have to stop at the tailor's by 3:30. I'll talk to you later.”

“Have fun. Sorry we won't see you in your regal best.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, Ash. Supposed to be storms tomorrow. Want to go somewhere?”

Ashley swiveled. “Let's go to the Kentucky Derby.”

TWENTY MINUTES later, Fritz walked into the house. “Look at these, Fritz.” Holding one in each hand, she said, “It's a shame to open them. They're works of art.”

“Should we steam them open, do you think?”

“We could. It won't take long.”

“You know, that's silly. I can ask him for an envelope. But we should keep this one.” With a butter knife, he gently opened the first. The president's letter thanked him for his efforts on behalf of the country without actually mentioning what Fritz had done. Inside were two pieces of paper, a handwritten note of thanks, and a check from the Treasury of the United States.

“Holy mackerel.” He sat down, stared at the check for a moment, and handed it to Linda.

“Fritz, he can't be serious. You've got to call him. What's in the other one?”

As Fritz opened the second envelope, his phone rang. “It's George,” he said. “Hi George, what's up?”

“Fritz, we just got a check from the president.” George fired the words like a machine gun. “You should see the envelope. And a personal note. Fritz, it's for fifty-thousand dollars. FIFTY. And he says it's not enough to repay us for what we've done for our country, and he's glad to have us on his team. Fritz, this is amazing!”

Fritz couldn't remember George ever having been so animated.

“Lois can go see the grandkids, George, and she doesn't have to wait until Christmas. You could do with a couple of days off yourself.”

“Fritz, that's a great idea.” He reloaded. “We could go this weekend. I'll talk to Lois. Talk to you later.” George hung up without even saying goodbye.

Fritz started to laugh and filled Linda in. She had a twinkle in her eyes even as tears started. She had the check in her hand.

“Don't cry, Lin. It's a paycheck.” He opened the second letter and extracted a second check. “I don't believe this.” He handed it to her.

“Oh, my God, Fritz, this isn't happening, is it? Is it real? This is like winning the lottery, twice.”

He walked around the table and hugged her. “There's the nursery, and there's the first deposit to his college fund.” He hugged her again.

“Fritz, that's not a nursery, that's a palace.” She sniffed. “That's a lot of money. But why did we get two checks?”

“I'm not sure. But he said each time he uses the portal, he'd pay a consulting fee. Remember? I never expected this, though.” He held one check in both hands. “So the portal has some benefit, after all. Not that I'd call all my trips dangerous. We need to talk about what to do with this. Really.” Then he read the handwritten note. “Two checks because we both helped. What a good man!”

“Do you want a drink, Lin?” Fritz asked. “Soda? I could do with something stronger.”

“Yes, but juice. Cranberry.”

“I don't know what to say. I have to call him,” he said as he filled their glasses. “He told me to watch the mail, but this is unreal.”

“Fritz, about something else—is Ash upset about Sandy's leaving?”

“I think so, at least a little. I know he likes her, and even though he left her, she's leaving geographically. He'll have to deal with it. But he's not so upset that he's not having a suit made to go to DC. He's at the tailor now.”

“Ha!”

“You know him, Lin. I think women scare him. Hard to believe.”

“Well, the chicken got off easy this time. Jane will be more of a challenge, I think. He'll have bigger choices to make with her.”

He checked the time. “I'm going to call the president.” Lily Evans, the president's secretary, answered and asked about Linda before putting him on hold. The president came on the line quickly.

“Hi, Fritz.”

“Mr. President, I'm calling to say thank you.”

“Ah, you got my letters. You're welcome.”

“Mr. President, do you know how much these checks are for?”

“What you did is worth every penny.”

“Mr. President, I put paperclips on paper and held a door.”

“Fritz, it's about what you made possible. You could have said no. You could have asked to be paid. You could have refused to take the risks. You helped prevent possible nuclear war and saved five-hundred innocent people. Plus our ambassador and his family last year. You never once put yourself or your family first. You did a lot more than hold a door.”

Fritz blushed as he listened. “Thank you, Mr. President. I still think I just opened a door. And it's a lot of money.”

“Aside from what it would have cost just to fly in, what we had to do was time critical. Believe me. We got off cheap.”

“I don't know what more to say, except thank you. This is so unexpected and so generous. Linda and I both thank you.”

“Fritz, I thank you, the country thanks you. And by the way, I just said all that without a teleprompter.” They both laughed. “I have to go. We're still trying to get this conference set up. The Narians are being difficult. Talk to you soon.”

Fritz told Linda what the president had said. She suggested donating part of the money to a charity. Before Fritz could answer, his phone chirped.

“Hi, Ash. What's up?”

“Good. You're home. I'm coming over.” He hung up.

“Ashley is on his way. I bet he got a check.” Seconds later, Ashley walked in the back door.

“I called from outside. Just to warn you. Look at this.”

“Sit down, Ashley,” Linda said. “You're overexcited. It'll pass in a minute. Fritz, get him a drink.” Ashley banged his knee as he plunked into a chair, his eyes on the check.

“So how's the suit?” Fritz asked.

“Huh? Oh, nice, I guess. I never paid that much before.” Ashley said, still staring at the check.

“What does it look like?” asked Linda.

“A lot of zeros.”

“Ashley, you are so backward,” she said. “What's it made of?”

“A hundred percent something. Did you see how much the check is for?”

“We saw. Wool?” Linda asked.

“Wool something. I can't believe it. It's almost what I make in a year.”

“How do you think it looks?” Linda asked.

“It looks like a lot of money.” He looked up. “Oh, the suit. He said it would look fine, but if I get there early enough, he can adjust it while I wait.”

Linda looked up at the ceiling. “Earth to Ashley. What does it look like? Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it's fine. I just can't get over this. I've never had this much money at one time.”

“Ash, come back.” said Fritz. “I spoke to the president a little while ago. He said you earned it. But that you shouldn't spend it all at once.”

Ashley's eyes refocused. “The suit looks pretty good. It's a charcoal pinstripe. But it cost twenty-six-hundred bucks. Can you believe it?”

“Custom, two days, wool worsted. That's pretty good, Ash,” Fritz said. “You might like the look. Did you get new shirts? Ties?”

“I have them.”

“Ashley Gilbert!” Linda said, jolting him. “Stop thinking like a Neanderthal. You live in the twenty-first century. You need at least two new shirts, a white and a powder blue. Two ties. Did they have them?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. Then buy at least two ties. One to go with the white shirt and one for the blue. Is there someone who can help you choose?”

“Yeah.”

“Ashley, listen carefully. I don't want to sound like your mother, but ask Jane which ones go best with the shirts and the suit. Okay, goofball? You want to look great, not like some slacker Jane found at the dump. How you look reflects on her. Got it?”

“Got it.” She guessed he just might have.

Chapter 6

FRITZ WAS DISAPPOINTED to awaken to a clear sky. At lunchtime, he saw Sandy and Ashley talking in her classroom. Damp tracks marked her cheeks. When Ashley missed lunch duty, Fritz bought him a sandwich and a bottle of juice.

“Ash, are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I just had a talk with Sandy. A little emotional.”

“I brought you some lunch.”

“Thanks. I'll talk to you later. Are you going to the football game?”

“Depends on Linda. If she's up to it, we'll be there. If not, I don't know if I'll come alone. Later.” As he returned to his classroom, Sandy was walking down the hall toward him.

“Hi, Fritz. It's my last day. Give my best to Linda, will you? And, well, I just talked to Ash.” She sighed. “I just have to get through the rest of the day. Thanks for the excitement, Fritz. And thanks for Shakespeare.”

“I hope the new school is as terrific as we are. Without a portal to the past, of course. For that, you'll have to visit.” As he hugged her to say goodbye, catcalls and wolf whistles buzzed the hall from students headed to their lockers. Fritz finished the day by playing history baseball with his last two classes.