Page 68 of Destiny Reclaimed
“I’ve nothing to lose,” Jack replied. “He looked to Gwennie’s high school picture hanging on the wall next to those of her brother’s. “I’ve already lost everything.”
“What are you proposing I tell Arthur?” Gary asked.
“Simply that you know the truth. You know he shot Jack. You can describe the scene to him in detail. That you know exactly where his bullet struck Jack who has the scar to prove it. Tell him you will tell your sister. She’ll believe you over him. Look what he’s done to her. Where he’s concerned, she’s holding on by a thread as it is.” Gabriela paused for a moment then continued. “He’ll want to get rid of the problem.”
“The problem. Me? Get rid of me.” Gary said.
She nodded. “Yes, and I figure the cleanest way for him to do that is to go back in time to the war. A legitimate death. No police. No questions.”
He had to admit, his Protector was ballsy. Had no issue telling this poor soul this change would be the end of him.
Gary grimaced in pain as he sunk back into his recliner.
“I’m not supposed to be here anyway. But still...”
Gabriela nodded.
He knew she knew she’d pay for this but it was her choice to go on.
“Jack is the reason you are here.”
“What?”
“In Jack’s real reality, Gwendoline and Blake’s, too, they are a family. Jack had returned from war and married your sister. She had recently discovered she was pregnant when word came you’d been killed in action. She was still grieving from losing Marvin and the news of your death put her into a cold, hard depression. Which wasn’t good for her or the baby she carried. She discovered Jack—her husband, was a time traveler, and she begged him to go back in time and save you. Of course, he refused because it’s against the code. Gwendoline’s depression worsened. Arthur saw this window of opportunity and traveled, pulling us all in.”
Gabriela’s regretful gaze landed on him.
“We failed that day to preserve history. We let everyone down,” Jack said. Regret and disappointment flashed through him.
His Protector interrupted continued. “Jack did what he does, and I’m guessing, what Arthur anticipated he’d do. Instinctively, he threw himself in front of the bullet that saved us—you, and by doing that, you lived and came home.”
“I’m supposed to be dead.”
“Yes. And from that moment. The butterfly effect occurred and everything changed. Even the smallest of things,” his Protector added.
“So, you want me to convince Arthur I know what he did. Threaten to tell my sister and hope he puts another target on my back. And with that, you think he’ll pull us all back to Vietnam.” He arched a brow. “But to what? What do we need to do there?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t really know. I just know we need to change the outcome. He was able to put us in an earlier scene of yours, a time before you died. To avoid your future death. Do you recall any similar instances?”
Gary thought for a few minutes before his eyes widened. “Yes! I know exactly where and when this was. But it was me carrying Simpson to a chopper.” He fixed his gaze on his hip. “The man had been shot in the hip. He crawled toward the Huey. Davis and I scooped him up and carried him the rest of the way. We were still under enemy fire, but Davis and I made it.” Melancholy emitted his gaze. “Just to die another day I guess.”
Jack’s chest tightened. This whole conversation—reality was dispiriting.
“Now we’re getting somewhere. It was a real incident in which Arthur was able to modify. He needs to know that you remember every detail about it. We need to get back to that spot in time and preserve it.”
“But how? How can we get him to do that?” Gary asked.
“Let’s try this plan. You go see him. Let him know you know what he did and threaten to tell your sister. He needs to know you know. And, I’m sure by now he knows she’d believe you over him after the way he’s treated her. Get him good and angry so he can’t think straight and acts impulsively. We’ll have an advantage during this travel we didn’t have last time because you recollect the original scene. We can try to align ourselves quickly to play out how things were supposed to have gone.”
Gary’s brows knit. “Say we get through this like we’re supposed to—get Simpson shot instead of me and get him on the chopper, won’t he just try to kill me or Jack then, Jack in particular, to get him out of the way and keep his family’s history?”
Gabriela nodded. “Probably, but that’s a chance we need to take. Again, we’ll know more details than we did before. We’ll need to be quick about things and find a way to end the threat—get Arthur to end the travel so we can all get back to our normal lives—reclaim destiny.”
“What will make him end the travel before he succeeds?” Jack asked.
“An injury that takes him out of commission, but doesn’t kill him would be one way. This is what I typically see. It ends the threat. But again, the injury has to be just enough to remove the threat. He won’t be able to travel if he’s too ill or weak. The act of traveling is tiresome. It takes a lot out of a person.”
The sound of light heels, mixed among the clunk of a child’s cowboy boots clicked against the wood floor. The noise grew louder. Gwennie and Blake paused in the archway between the living room and the hall and looked at her twin. “You’re going to need to calm Dad down.”
