Mysteries Unraveled
Posted on Sat Jul 20th, 2019 @ 1:53am by Lieutenant Jéanne-Thérèse Marsol & Commander Logan Vance
Edited on on Sat Aug 3rd, 2019 @ 3:57am
Mission:
Preludes
Location: France, Earth
Timeline: 1940
Tags: Prelude
Logan swore and tried to pick him up by his shirt but his leg gave out and the soon to be dead weight of the agent drug them both down to the floor.
She clamored after him to help him back to his feet. "So they moved it early? How many agents did you say came back in time?"
He was still steaming. "Obviously more than the four they told me about," he snapped "Fuck!" he exclaimed and slammed the wall. When the outburst was over, he did his best to calm down but he was still pissed. "They must still be on their way to Tours but we still have no idea how many there are or what they are doing." He was in obvious pain and unable to walk anymore. "Come here and help me. We need to try and go after them."
Running to his side, she held onto him as his leg gave out under the weight of his body. “We’re not going anywhere fast. I need to look at your leg, and we need to get you something for the pain,” she calmly told him, the nurse in her coming out.
"Dammit, help me up! I can't let them get away! Do you know how much is at stake right now?!" he yelled at her, slamming his fist on a nearby table.
She took his hand and held it, looking him straight. “Everything is at stake. You are no good dead. Let me do what I need to do, okay?”
Logan swore but knew with his leg as it was, he wasn't going anywhere without her help. "Just… fix it so we can go!" he growled. He felt so helpless. It was almost as bad as when Rowley had to come and get him nearly a year ago. That was two ops that had gone badly in as many attempts. Maybe Starfleet was right to take him out of the field.
“Trust me.” She left and went running through cellar where she figured someone would keep a first aid kit. It didn’t take long for her to find one and she returned. Time hadn’t really moved much, maybe a couple of minutes at most. “Here,” she said handing him a small bottle of alcohol. “It’ll take the edge off.” She quickly opened the kit and pulled out some bandages. There was a syrette of morphine in there too. “Or I can give you morphine instead? This would be so much easier if I had a medbay with proper equipment.”
He shook off the idea of morphine. "No morphine. I need to be sharp to figure out what to do next. And believe me, there is a lot that would be easier if we were stuck in the damn stone ages." Whatever they were doing, it was obvious they had been posing as French intelligence. Whether that was to mislead them or help them was unclear.
She removed the bandage and cleaned the wound being as gentle as she could considering what he had asked her to do outside to the wound. He grimaced as the pain got incredibly worse. “I’m sorry,” she said as she worked as fast as she could minimize the pain. The artery was good. “This part is going to hurt,” she warned him but before allowing him to respond, she quickly packed the wound.
"Fuck!" he exclaimed as she packed the wound. He slammed his fist on the table multiple times to the point that was just to be just as sore later. The throbbing continued after she finished even as the pain started to subside. Frustrated and in pain, he wiped the table clear of paper and equipment in one stroke. The crash on the floor was loud enough to reverberate through the room.
The noise jarred through her making her flinch a bit. Even though she had been used to the noises of war, this was one thing she didn’t expect. She then finished putting the bandage over the wound. “I’m sorry.” She looked down at the paper that was on the floor that he brought crashing down. Scrunching her eyebrows, she looked at one of them. “What’s this?” she asked. “Why is it dated for the day France falls?”
Her question caught his attention. "Let me see it," he reached out for it and snatched it away when it was in reach. He didn't read German but he saw a few familiar words. It was dated June 25th, 1940. "This is a communication about the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor," he said in disbelief. "That would be impossible."
“That’s when France surrenders…” she said recognizing the date on there. She scrunched her face. “How does France surrendering and the attack on Pearl Harbor line up?
"It doesn't," he confirmed. "But that's not the weirdest thing. The attack wasn't even at the beginning of the planning stage until early 1941 and the allies and the Germans knew nothing about it. Which means this intel is completely fake. It's almost like they're trying to scare the United States…" he paused as he started to work out. "In World War I, the Germans were afraid the United States would enter the war before they could finish conquering Europe. So they sent a memo to Mexico proposing an alliance and asking them to invade. It completely backfired. The British intercepted it and showed it to the Americans. They declared war immediately. If this intel made it to President Roosevelt, the U.S. would almost certainly enter the war over a year early."
"One of the U.S. generals, Patton nearly convince the President to invade the Soviet held portions of Eastern Europe after Germany was defeated. Many thought that if they had, the Cold War could have been averted and the U.S.' position of power would have been solidified. One of the big reasons they didn't is because the Soviets had been so key in defeating Hitler. But if the U.S. enters the war early, Hitler would have had to been suicidal not to hold off on his invasion of Russia. Russia likely never joins the allies. The war likely drags on for another five or so years but the U.S. and the allies defeat not only the Nazis but the Soviets as well. No cold war, no threat to American dominance. And Section 31 is right in the middle of it, directing history from there."
Looking at him worriedly, she responded tactfully, “I think we need to risk them knowing we have a communicator that works, and we need our tech to solve this. They have to have some form of tech on them from our time, right? Use the sensors to find them? They would probably be traveling in a convoy. Could use the sensors to detect that on the road to Tours.”
"If we do that, we reveal the runabout to any other Section 31 agents. If we fail, they'll take the runabout and we're both stranded here. Are you willing to risk that?" It affected him too but she'd already been stuck here five years and had gotten her hopes up to go home.
“If we don’t take the risk, then there is no future for us to even go home to.” She looked at him. Her eyes were pleading knowing that she was right: they had to take the risk.
He reluctantly took the communicator out of his pocket. He would have to find them first but with the runabout's sensors and the fact that he knew what he was looking for, that wouldn't be hard. It only took a few minutes. They were almost to Tours where the new government would be set up in a few days. "I'm going to set up a site to site transport. Are you ready?"
“No, it’s been five years… and -” she started to say.
"Jéanne…" he said to her softly. When she turned, he kissed her softly. "Just for luck," he smiled at her.
Before she could say anything, he tapped the communicator and ordered the site to site transport. The aery feeling kicked in when the light engulfed them. Shortly after it started, it ended. What little she had in her stomach tried to revolt. It had been far too long since she had experienced that. She leaned over and braced herself against her knees as if she needed to dry heave. Finally after it settled down, she looked at him, went up to him, and slapped him leaving it unsaid about how she felt.
Logan cleared his throat. "Not the first time that's happened, but totally worth it," he decided. He immediately started trying to figure out where they were. They had materialized just outside the city and luckily now one had seen them. The cars carrying the intelligence group were just over a mile from their location and heading for them fast. "Do you have a pistol?"
“A pistol and the phaser you gave me,” she stated as her stomach finally settled and her head settled. “Do you need it?” she asked.
"I need the pistol!" he held out his hand. If he was gonna stop that convoy, he preferred a weapon that was period specific. "I'm gonna need your help to convince Bertrand. Assuming he doesn't shoot us on sight when I do what I'm about to do."
She quickly took her backpack off and took out the pistol that she had at the top and handed it over to him.
As the cars approached, Logan fired the pistol up in the air to get the drivers' attention who then pulled off to the side. Several armed men rolled out but only a handful was in uniform. "Qu'est-ce que cela veut dire??!" Major Bertrand, the French officer in charge, bellowed.
Taking a deep breath, Jéanne-Thérèse stepped out of the treeline and looked at the Major. “Bonjour Majeur Bertrand... nous avons un problème. C'est un renseignement Américain.” He quirked his eyebrow and walked closer to her when she signal. She hooked her hand on his arm and told him what he needed to know. The look on his face paled as he turned and stormed off screaming orders. Four men were pulled out of one of the convoy trucks and motioned to the tree lines. While there were orders being barked back and forth, and defenses tried, one of the men reached for something in his beltline. Bertrand shot him dead, and the other three stood there with their hands up. She flinched as she heard the rifles go off.
Logan trained the pistol on one of the other three but it didn't take long for the armed French agents to get the other three to surrender. There was a matter of what to do with them now but that was a question for another time. Logan had something more pressing. "So they believe us then? They'll take them into custody?" he asked.
“Oui,” she said looking at him.
"And do you still have the morphine handy?"
She pulled it out and handed it to him questioningly.
"Good… you hold onto that… I think… I might need it in a minute," he said as his leg finally gave out and he passed out from the pain.
Ensign Jéanne-Thérèse Marsol
Nurse, USS Coleman
Agent Logan Vance
Intelligence
