“Right now it is,” said Holliday. “Now git!”
The two men went past him and out into the street. Neilson exhaled heavily as Holliday backed over to their table, then holstered his nickel plated Colt.
“Thanks,” said Scott.
“Don’t mention it,” Holliday replied. “Evening Jenny.”
“Doc, was I ever glad to see you!” she said.
Holliday smiled thinly. “Always a pleasure to see you too, honey.” He looked up as Wyatt Earp came in. “Well, howdy, Wyatt. We almost had us some excitement here just now.”
“I know.” said Wyatt, grimly. “Virg and Morg just took Frank and Ross to jail for carryin’ their guns in town. What happened here?”
“They came in looking for the Kid.” said Doc. “I heard Demming threaten to shoot him in the back.”
“He’s right, Wyatt.” Jenny said. “The Kid and I were talking and those two came in. looking for trouble. Ross wanted to kill him. And he would have, if it hadn’t been for Doc.”
Wyatt Earp gave Neilson a hard look. “I knew you were going to be trouble,” he said.
“I was only having dinner, Marshal,” Scott said. “I didn’t do a thing.”
“I want you on the next stage out of town.” said Wyatt.
“I haven’t broken any laws. Mr. Earp. Unless it’s against the law to have men threaten you while you’re eating dinner.”
“Don’t sass me, son. I haven’t got the patience for it.”
“I’m not carrying a gun, Marshal. I’m obeying the law, just like your brother told me to. I haven’t done anything to be run out of town for.”
“There’s no reason for you to stay around.” said Wyatt. “And I can think of lots of reasons for you to leave. Next time. Doc might not be there to protect you.”
“I’m obliged to Mr. Holliday,” said Scott. “But I’ve still got some business here in town. And I haven’t broken any laws. Those cowboys did. They’re the ones you should be running out of town.”
“They’ll be leavin’, soon as they’ve paid their fines,” said Wyatt. “And I don’t need you to tell me my job. I know what business you have here and it’s trouble.”
“Your brother said that I could ask around and try to find out what happened to my friends; said Neilson. “That’s all I was doing, Marshal. Asking. I told you. I don’t want any trouble. Not with you and not with anybody else, either.”
Wyatt stared at him for a long moment_ Neilson met his gaze.
“The next stage leaves at noon tomorrow.” Wyatt said. “If you’re smart, Kid, you’ll be on it.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Jenny.
He turned around and left.
“If I were you. Kid. I’d do as he said,” said Holliday.
“I haven’t done anything wrong, Mr. Holliday. Or is that how you people do things here in Tombstone? Fine the outlaws a few dollars, but run law-abiding people out of town?”
Holliday shook his head. ‘You’ve got Wyatt wrong. He’s only trying to do his job. And he’s looking out for you, as well.”
“I can look out for myself.”
“Is that right? Tell me, what would you have done if I hadn’t come along when I did?”
Scott looked up at him, then made a quick movement with his wrists, crossing them and pulling two slim throwing knives from concealed sheaths strapped to his forearms, turning quickly in his chair and hurling them. They stuck in the wall by the entryway, exactly where Frank McLaury and Ross Demming had stood.
Jenny gasped, as did a number of other people in the dining room. Someone invoked the Lord’s name, softly, and there was an undertone of excited murmuring.
Holliday stared at the knives. You seem to be a young man of many talents,” he said. “You practice that back on the farm, as well?”
“There a law against carrying knives in Tombstone?” Scott asked him.
“Not to my knowledge,” Holliday replied. He walked over and pulled the knives out of the wall. He examined them before he gave them back to Neilson. “Clever-lookin’ things. Never seen any like ’em before.”
Neilson slipped them back into their sheaths. “I had them made special.”
Holliday nodded. “Maybe it’s too bad that I came in when I did. I’ve never seen two men dropped with knives at the same time before. You got any other tricks up your sleeve?”
“If I have to leave town, you might never find out,” said Scott.
Holliday coughed several times. “I’ll speak with Wyatt. See if I can get him to back off a bit. I have a feeling that having you around might prove to be quite interesting. Quite interesting, indeed. Be seein’ you, Kid. You too, Jenny.”
“‘Bye. Doc,” she said. Her eyes were shining as she looked at Neilson. “I’ve never seen anything like the way you threw those knives in my whole life!” she said. He felt her foot rubbing up against his leg under the table. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Neilson cleared his throat. “Waiter? Check, please.”
2
Neilson looked a little green around the gills as he stood in the private quarters of General Moses Forrester in the TAC-HQ building at Pendleton Base, California. Part of his ill feeling was due to what was known as “warp lag,” the effects of traveling through time. Some people got used to it, others never did. Even veteran time travelers occasionally puked their guts out after temporal transition. Most everyone at least felt dizzy and queasy in the stomach. Complicating the situation was the fact that Neilson was in the presence of the Old Man himself
Forrester was a large man, built like a bull, with a massive chest and arms that were as big as Neilson’s thighs. Even at his advanced age-and no One knew precisely what his age was-he could still run a marathon, do fifty pull-ups without pausing and curl an eighty-pound dumbbell with one hand. His face looked positively ancient. It was lined and wrinkled and he was completely bald. His bright green eyes. However, looked youthful and alert.
Also present in Forrester’s quarters were Colonel Lucas Priest, Captain Andre Cross and Major Finn Delaney. Priest, as usual, looked smartly turned out in his sharply creased black base fatigues and highly polished boots. Dark-haired, slim and very fit; he was a handsome, thoroughly professional looking officer. By contrast, the burly Delaney looked like an unkempt longshoreman. He looked about as military as an old sweat sock. His base fatigues were rumpled, his boots were unshined, his dark red hair was uncombed and his full beard gave him the aspect of a drunken Irish poet. His facial expression, even when neutral, conveyed a wry insolence that had often provoked senior officers throughout his military career. That, together with his insubordinate nature, was one of the reasons why he held the record for the most reductions in grade in the entire Temporal Corps. He also held the record for the most promotions, due to exemplary service in the field. Lucas Priest had often chided him about it, saying that if it wasn’t for his temper, he would have surely been a general by now, to which Delaney always responded with an irate scowl. At heart, he was a noncom and had always detested officers. And now he was a major. The rank did not sit well with him. He still felt funny being saluted.
Andre Cross sat between the two men on the couch, looking less like a soldier than a model hired to pose for a recruiting poster. Her straw-blonde hair was long and straight, falling to her shoulders, and her sharp, angular features were more striking than pretty. She had the physique of a bodybuilder, with long legs, a narrow waist, small hips and broad shoulders. Neilson had always thought that there was something catlike about her, in the way she moved and in the way she held herself.
Their presence made him feel somewhat more at ease, as he had served with them once before on a mission in the past, that assignment to Victorian London where half the mission team had died. People who had gone through something like that together achieved a special camaraderie that only other soldiers could fully understand. But the Old Man still had Neilson feeling a bit shaky in the knees. It felt a little strange standing before them, dressed the way he’d been in Tombstone. Almost as if he were a boy playing dress-up in a roomful of adults.