Lincoln's Wizard by Tracy Hickman, Dan Willis Read Free Book Online

Union lines all rotten and gangrenous.
    “Now,” Pinkerton said, indicating a rail line running north to south. “My spies have learned that a special train moves up and down this line, stopping at the camps to refresh the Grays. Every six weeks, however, it travels back to Atlanta, where we assume the source of their chemical brew is located.”
    “What do you want me to do?” Braxton asked, not seeing where this was going.
    Pinkerton moved his finger down the track until it was well behind the Rebel lines.
    “As the Gray train travels back from picking up supplies,” he said, his finger coming to rest on the bridge running across the Tennessee River. “The train crosses this bridge on its way north,” he said. “We want you to cut this bridge and send the train to the bottom of the river. That will cripple Rebel operations in the western states and give our boys a chance to mount a counter offensive.”
    Braxton nodded. Now his presence here made perfect sense. You couldn’t just stuff a bridge support with powder and expect the bridge to come down, especially if you wanted it to take a train with it. Blowing up a bridge required a knowledge of engineering if you wanted to do it right—that and a lot of powder.
    He shook his head.
    “We’d never be able to blow that bridge without being seen,” he said. “It would take dozens of kegs of powder and days to set it up.”
    Pinkerton smiled and pulled a cigar from the inside pocket of his coat.
    “Here,” he said, tossing it across the table.
    When Braxton caught it, he realized immediately that it wasn’t a cigar. While it was the right size and shape, it appeared to be wrapped in heavy paper with a fuse sticking out of the top.
    “What’s this?”
    “The latest thing in explosives,” Pinkerton said. “Nitroglycerin packed in sand.”
    At the word “nitro” Braxton’s hand trembled and he handed the cigar-shaped tube carefully back to Pinkerton.
    “Oh don’t go all wobbly on me, lad,” the detective said. “This stuff is perfectly safe.” To illustrate his point, he slammed the tube down on the low table a few times.
    Braxton’s heart skipped several beats but nothing happened.
    “It’s called dynamite,” Pinkerton said. “All the power of nitro and you can carry it in your knapsack. Your squad will be provided enough to get the job done, don’t you worry about that.”
    “My squad?”
    “A half-dozen men,” Pinkerton said. “Handpicked by me.”
    “This mission is vital, Captain,” Lincoln said. “It could very well turn the tide of the entire war. Much will depend on your success.”
    “I’m not sure I can do this,” he admitted. “This train is deep into enemy territory and I grew up in Maryland. I don’t know the land. And what happens if we do manage to sink the train?”
    “Your squad has three men from Alabama to act as guides,” Pinkerton said. “They’ll be responsible to get you in and out.”
    Braxton looked at the map again, tracing the route of the Gray train with his finger. He had to admit the whole idea terrified him. He wasn’t a proper soldier after all, he was an engineer. Still, he had to bring down the bridge, and that was a job only an engineer could do. It didn’t seem like he had much choice.
    “All right,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m your man.”
    Lincoln took Braxton’s offered hand and smiled. “Thank you, Captain.”
    “Where do I meet my squad?”
    “Air Marshal Sherman has a launch on the roof,” Pinkerton said. “He’ll take you to his flotilla and you’ll start south immediately. Your team and the dynamite are already aboard.” He held out his hand and passed Braxton an elaborate ring made up of three, interwoven silver bands. “One of my operatives will try to join up with you in Alabama. He’ll know you by that ring, so don’t take it off and don’t lose it.”
    Braxton slipped it on his right hand and everyone stood. The outer door opened and a steward waited