TimeRiders: The Eternal War

CHAPTER 19. 2001, New York

‘What’re you doing, Jim?’

His friend looked up from the computer terminal and rolled his eyes. He’d undone the top button of his NYPD uniform tunic and rolled his sleeves up. Jim looked like a man who’d already clocked off shift and gone home. Only, of course, he hadn’t.

‘That fruitcake we picked up earlier in Chinatown just went and generated a bunch of paperwork for me.’

Bill slumped down in his chair, facing him over their paired-up back-to-back desks. ‘What’s he gone and done now? I thought we were holding him overnight with a caution?’

Jim scratched his nose with a pen, then ran a hand through his buzzcut blond hair. ‘Stupid idiot went and said some crazy stuff about the Twin Towers comin’ down. Said they was goin’ to explode an’ all.’ He sighed. ‘Which means with the FBI’s Threat Alert system on Amber, fer crissakes —’ he shrugged — ‘I gotta go log it all in.’

‘Mind you …’ Bill shook his head. ‘He said a whole bunch of other crazy stuff too … What was it?’

Jim chuckled. ‘Oh, you mean that he’s gonna be the president one day, that he’s been transported through time from 1830-whatever by a bunch of time-travellin’ kids … or somethin’?’

Bill nodded. ‘And that name? Like something out of the Bible. Abraham Landon?’ He checked the screen in front of him. ‘Lincoln … Abraham no-middle-name Lincoln.’

They looked at each other for a moment before Jim finally spoke. ‘Stupid goddarn name, uh? You see us ever havin’ a president with a dumb-soundin’ name like that?’

Bill shook his head. ‘Not with that funny way he talks. Like a southern gentleman … like a pastor, a firebrand preacher or somethin’. Know what I mean? Tell you what, though, man, I can almost believe the crazy son-of-a-gun just stepped out of the Wild West.’

Jim looked up at him. ‘What? You trying to say he isn’t a crazy loon needs lockin’ up in a room with no hard edges?’

Bill snorted. ‘Nope, I’m sayin’ he could make a nice buck doin’ Crazy Preacher-o-grams.’

‘Yeah, right… Like that’s the first thing you gonna order for your pal’s bachelor night, uh?’

‘Come on, man, finish up … let some FBI pencil-neck go figure it out.’

Jim nodded, pecking out a few more words on the keyboard before finally slapping a heavy hand on the desk. ‘Done!’

Bill grinned. ‘One for the road, my man?’

‘A beer? Sure. But just the one. Don’t wanna —’

‘Don’t wanna keep yer mamma up,’ parroted Bill with a well-worn smile. Same lame ol’ line. ‘Problem with you, Jim, ol’ buddy, is you need to come up with some new one-liners.’

‘Yeah? Or what? You gonna go find some other dumb sucker to partner up with?’

They weaved their way out of the deserted precinct office, all cubicles and desks piled high with sitting paperwork.

‘Now you know me better than that, Jim … You an’ me, we’re like an ol’ married couple.’

‘Gross,’ Jim muttered as he grabbed his coat and kitbag. ‘Now I got a goddarn picture in my head gonna give me nightmares tonight.’