The Pinkerton Files Five-Book Bundle by David Luchuk Read Free Book Online Page B

line. Messages must be screened. Manage however you can. Send to all: Lincoln itinerary unchanged. – Kate
    The scale of what she asked was preposterous. So much so that, in a leap of backward logic, I assumed there would be some simple way of getting it done. I shared this with Felton as he led me to the telegraph office.
    â€œI don’t know.” He said. “If there is, I’ve never heard of it.”
    A whole floor of the building was occupied by the hub. Hundreds of twittering telegraphs were arranged in a grid. Narrow pathways, wide enough for a single person to pass, provided access to the machines.
    Felton stated the obvious.
    â€œFor every message we intercept, dozens will go through. Even if we hired an army, there would be no way.”
    A pair of wires was attached to each machine. These converged in a thick trunk that ran along the floor to a panel in the wall. The panel was barred but Felton took a small axe from the fire box and chopped the lock away.
    Inside, the trunk of wires was spliced into four main conduits.
    â€œWe should just cut the damn things.” He said.
    Felton reared back to swing.
    â€œWait.” I said. “Bring me the bag from my interceptor.”
    Felton dropped the axe. He left at a sprint and returned out of breath. I reached into the bag Father had thrown together in Chicago. On principle, he would not have wanted police to seize more of our equipment. The switchbox was inside.
    I limped to the closest machine and rearranged its leads. The first message that came through was an obituary. I deleted the notice and replaced it with a confirmation that Lincoln was on schedule. The next message was a business contract. To this, I replied that the President’s itinerary was unchanged. I replaced and replied to every message, sending word in both directions that Lincoln was travelling as planned.
    After a twentieth message, the switchbox flared then mimicked my intervention. I pulled the leads and brought it to the wall. Felton helped me attach all four conduits.
    The hub fell silent. If this didn’t work, we would have to cut the lines.
    â€œCripes.” Felton said. “What’s happening?”
    The conduits hung in place yet the switches whirled around them like a top. Telegraph machines resumed their chattering. For the rest of the day, the only messages exchanged on the east coast confirmed President Lincoln’s itinerary.
    *   *   *
    Kate Warne
    February, 1861
    We were approaching Harrisburg when the Golden Circle came into view. I watched them from the last car in Lincoln’s train. Hunt leered through a window as though he might try to bite me from a hundred yards out.
    Harry brought a pile of telegraph messages transmitted to his office. Each was a confirmation that Lincoln was travelling on schedule. Robert had done his best.
    â€œSend President Lincoln on his way.” I said.
    There was no reason to expect Harry would stay behind. Someone had to entertain the socialites on their way to Philadelphia. I was still disappointed when he left without so much as offering to help confront the Golden Circle.
    Explosive charges fired and the engine car broke off. Disabled, our car was pushed back by the engine’s thrust. If we succeeded, Hunt would be in custody by the time Lincoln reached Philadelphia with Harry and the hangers-on.
    Hunt’s train smashed into us. Iron spikes drove through the ceiling overhead as grapplers on their lead car took hold. I heard the shrill sound of metal sawing against metal. They were cutting through our back end.
    I thought of Robert. He would have stayed for the fight. He would also have enjoyed seeing me don two melee gauntlets, one on each arm, and ultraviolet goggles to protect my eyes from the optical stunner Lincoln’s guards employed. Robert understands that this is the future of our profession.
    The stunner was mounted on a tripod. Two elliptical trays revolved in