Lincoln's Wizard (18 page)

If you ever see Stan again.

The worry for Stan descended on him and he rubbed his temples. He had to do something before Hattie started whatever mission Pinkerton had in mind. And what about Laurie? Did he dare try to bring him along on what was sure to be an insanely dangerous mission? He remembered the feeling when he believed Laurie had been killed and shivered.

“I’m sorry,” he said, realizing that he’d fallen silent again.

“It’s nothing,” Laurie said. “I could tell you were lost in thought.”

Braxton shook his head.

“Just tired,” he admitted. “It’s been a very long day.”

He meant this to deflect Laurie’s attention but his brother scrutinized him closely for a long moment.

“I guess we should get some sleep,” he said at last. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk in the morning.”

Braxton wrapped himself in the thin blanket he’d been provided and lay awake for a long time. When he finally did sleep, his dreams were a strange mix of Toks working in fields juxtaposed with Stan, rusting away at the bottom of a scrap pile. He was glad to be rid of the dream when the sound of the bolt being pulled back on his door scraped into his sleep and woke him.

As he came awake, Braxton knew something was wrong. His cell was still fully dark, with no trace of predawn making the sky pale, and his breath steamed in the chill. He threw his blanket off as the hinges of the door creaked but before he could roll off his pallet, something hard and cold pressed against his throat.

“Don’t move, Captain,” someone whispered in his ear, close enough that he could feel their breath. “It’s just me.”

“Hattie?” Braxton whispered. He became fully awake and aware of a faint, feminine scent.

She withdrew the blade and Braxton sat up. Hattie knelt beside him, slipping a long, thin knife into the side of her boot. She was dressed in pants with a short coat over a button-up shirt, all in dark colors that disappeared in the blackness of the cell.

“You ready?” she asked.

At that moment Laurie shifted on his pallet, and Braxton raised a finger to his lips. He’d decided that it was probably best if he went into danger without Laurie this time.

“You said you were alone in here,” Hattie hissed, fire springing up in her eyes.

“He’s the prison surgeon,” Braxton said. “And an old friend. He arranged this without my knowledge.”

“I hope he’s a heavy sleeper,” Hattie said. “Watch the door.”

Rising silently, Hattie made her way to the little window. A moment later she returned.

“Can’t go that way,” she said. “There’s too much open ground between us and the fence, and the guard patrol passes every three and a half minutes.”

“How do you know that?”

Hattie favored him with a withering look.

“I hadn’t been here a week before I knew where and when the guards patrolled, both inside and out,” she said, as if it were an obvious thing to do. “Now, get your things. There’s a guard room on the other side of the building with a better position for us to escape.”

“Won’t there be guards in the guard room?” Braxton whispered.

Hattie smiled. In the dimness it was both lovely and vicious at the same time. Braxton shivered.

“We just wait till the guards make their rounds, then slip away while they’re gone,” she said.

“And you know when—” Braxton began, but the sound of boots on the stone floor outside the room silenced him.

Hattie stepped to the door and eased it closed.

“Check every door,” a voice came from the hall. “Lancaster was drunk.”

“What if they look inside?” Braxton asked.

“Lay down on your side,” Hattie said. “Face the wall.”

Braxton did as Hattie instructed.

“Hold this,” Hattie said handing him his blanket. She stepped over him and quickly lay down in the space between his body and the wall, pressing herself flat on the pallet. “Cover us both up and whatever you do, don’t move.”

Braxton pulled the blanket over them, straining his ears to hear the guards.

“Breathe, Braxton,” Hattie whispered. “You want them to think you’re sleeping, not dead.”

He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. He resumed breathing and tried to calm himself, which was made harder by Hattie pressing against his chest.

The cell door squeaked, followed by a long pause where Braxton tried not to hold his breath.

“Hey, this one’s open,” the guard said.

“Better check it,” a second voice whispered.

The door creaked again and this time light flooded inside. Through half closed lids, Braxton saw the light bob as the guard swept it back and forth. He felt sure the alarm call would come any second.

“Nothing,” the guard said. The door closed and the light vanished, followed by the sound of the bolt sliding home.

Hattie leapt up like she’d been pinched and rushed to the door.

“Damn it,” she swore under her breath, her fingers probing the door frame.

“What’s the matter?”

She turned to glare at him.

“There’s no key,” she said, looking at him as if that were somehow his fault. “That means I can’t pick the lock. We’re stuck here.”

Chapter Fourteen
Fire in the Belly

Braxton had never really considered his cell door. A simple bolt held it closed from the far side instead of a lock mechanism. There was nothing for Hattie to pick. Still that was hardly his fault.

“I thought you knew when the patrols came around,” he said, not bothering to mask the sarcasm.

“That wasn’t their normal route,” Hattie said. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve got to figure a way out of here.”

Braxton was about to answer that if he knew how to escape, he’d have done it before now, when he suddenly remembered.

“The ring,” he said, holding up his hand. “You said it was some kind of escape tool.”

He took it off and passed it to Hattie. She started to smile but seemed to remember that she was cross with him, and the smile vanished. Braxton had worn Pinkerton’s ring faithfully during the weeks since he’d received it, only taking it off when he worked on Stan, and always making sure it wasn’t damaged. As soon as Hattie took it she began uncoiling it, bending the delicate interweaving pattern into a straight wire.

“You’re welcome,” Braxton said.

“You did your job and held on to this,” Hattie said, holding up the now straight wire. “Don’t expect a medal.”

Braxton bit back a retort. Hattie kept getting under his skin, and that wasn’t helping anyone.

“So how do we escape with that?” he asked instead.

“It’s Brimstone wire,” Hattie said, as if that explained it.

Braxton rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache he felt forming behind his left eye.

“Pretend I don’t know what that means,” he said, trying, unsuccessfully, to keep his irritation out of his voice.

The hard look that had been in Hattie’s eyes since she discovered they were locked in turned to granite. A moment later, though, it was gone, and she smiled at him.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a sweet voice. “I keep forgetting that you’re not a trained spy. Brimstone wire is made of a highly volatile metal. You just set a match to it and it’ll burn through just about anything.”

Suddenly Braxton imagined his hand bursting into flames as he got too close to a candle.

“I wore that on my finger,” he hissed. “Are you saying it could have crippled me at any moment?”

“What are you doing?” Laurie’s sleepy voice interrupted. “Arguing in your sleep?”

Hattie and Braxton froze, but it was too late. Laurie rolled over on his pallet. It took a moment before he saw Hattie, kneeling by the door.

“Wha—” he gasped, sitting up suddenly.

Hattie seemed to be waiting for him to move. Before Laurie could get all the way up in a sitting position, Hattie kicked out her leg and lassoed it around his waist. Moving her weight on top of him, she forced him back onto the pallet. Laurie started to lash out but stopped suddenly as Hattie pressed the blade of her slim knife against his throat.

“Stop!” Braxton shouted. It echoed in the stillness of the night, and everyone held still.

“That’s my friend,” Braxton whispered after a long moment passed. “He won’t betray your presence here. Please let him up.”

Hattie looked at Braxton across the few feet of the cell’s width. She looked wary but without the hard edge he’d seen in her eyes before.

“Are you sure?” she said. “The South is desperate for anyone with knowledge of our engineering. Don’t you think it’s convenient that one of your oldest friends just happens to have a position of authority at the prison where you were sent? Enough position to get put in your very cell.”

If it had been anyone but Laurie, Braxton might have been suspicious.

“He was there with me at the battle of Parkersburg,” Braxton said. “He was captured when the
Monitor
went down.”

“How come I’ve never seen him before?” Hattie asked. “The last time I saw the surgeon it was an old doctor from Arkansas. I could barely understand him.”

“Laurie was sent to Andersonville first,” Braxton said. “He didn’t come here until about a month ago.”

Hattie looked down at Laurie for a long moment, then slowly took her blade away.

“I won’t kill you now because Braxton vouched for you,” she said in a quiet voice. “Don’t give me any reason to change my mind.”

She stood and stepped back so Laurie could sit up. He rubbed his neck where Hattie’s blade had been.

“I love your new girl,” Laurie said, shooting Braxton an angry look.

Sarah gripped his arm, her body wracked with pain. He tried to comfort her, but there simply wasn’t anything he could do.

Stop!

Braxton banished the memory. He’d thought he’d buried them a long time ago, but the pain and the loss seemed as fresh to him now as when they were newly minted.

Laurie blanched. Apparently Braxton’s inner struggle showed on his face. Regret crossed Laurie’s handsome features. “Braxton, I’m sorry.”

Braxton pushed Sarah’s lingering image from his mind where it had risen like a vengeful specter.

“Lawrence Hancock, meet Hattie Lawton,” he said. “Hattie, this is my childhood friend, Laurie.”

“Charmed,” Laurie said, though it sounded more out of obligation than from any real feeling. “What’s she doing here, brother?”

“Looks like you were right,” Braxton said. “Turns out I am here for a reason.”

“Braxton,” Hattie said, her voice sharp. She stood at the window with her back to them.

“He’s not a spy, Hattie.”

“Maybe not,” she said in a voice that communicated that she wasn’t sure of that. “But he can’t be made to reveal that which he doesn’t know.”

“Sorry, brother,” Braxton said.

“Do either of you smoke?” Hattie said, turning from the window. She’d broken the Brimstone wire in half and wrapped the top and bottom of one of the window bars with it.

Laurie stood and reached into his coat, withdrawing a pipe and a tin of tobacco.

“Matches?” Hattie asked.

Laurie retrieved a small snuff box from another pocket and passed it over to Hattie. She flipped the lid open, revealing the box empty of snuff but full of wooden matches. Selecting two, Hattie closed the tin and tossed it back to Laurie.

“Stand back,” she told them, looking through the bars. “We just have to wait for the guard to reach the edge of the building …”

She struck the match on the rough stone wall. It flared up, brightening the darkness of the cell, and then Hattie held it against the uppermost bit of Brimstone wire. At first nothing happened. Braxton wondered if the wire were defective. In a moment he had his answer. The wire flared with piercingly bright light and an acrid smoke filled the cell. The fire seemed to pulse as it burned, and Braxton had to put his hand up before his eyes.

“Won’t someone see that?” Laurie hissed.

Just at that moment the Brimstone wire burned itself out. Braxton lowered his hand and, once he could see again, observed a neat line cut right through the bar where the wire had been. Below it, the bar had melted like a candle and some of the drips still glowed a faint red.

“What is that stuff?” Braxton asked, his engineering mind engaged.

Hattie shrugged. “I’m sure it’s need to know only, and as long as it works, I don’t need to know.” She looked out through the bars but jerked her head back. “The guards are coming back,” she whispered.

They sat, listening in the dark, while Hattie kept watch. Eventually, she rose and struck the second match, touching it to the second piece of Brimstone wire. This time she grabbed the upper part of the bar as the wire began to burn. Braxton covered his eyes again as the light pulsed and waited for it to die.

“Got it,” Hattie said, pulling the bar free as the Brimstone wire cut in half. “It’ll take a few minutes for the metal to cool down enough for us to go through, then we’ll wait for the guards to pass and make a run for it.”

“What about the fence?” Braxton asked. “You used up all the wire.”

Hattie reached into her left boot and pulled out a pair of heavy pliers, the kind with a wire cutter in the bottom of the jaw. Braxton reached out for it but Hattie pulled it away.

“When was the last time you cut wire in a hurry?” she asked.

Braxton laughed. “There’s a saying in engineering,” he said. “Measure twice, cut once. I’ve never cut wire in a hurry.”

“In surgery, I often have to work quickly and accurately or someone dies,” Laurie said, extending his hand.

“You are
not
coming with us,” Hattie said.

“So I’m just supposed to lie here and pretend to sleep while you escape?” Laurie said.

Hattie opened her mouth, but Braxton headed her off. “I know it’s not fair,” he said, “but you can’t come with me on this one.”

I’m not going to get you killed for real this time. You’ll be safe here.

Laurie put on his coat. “And how do you propose to stop me?” he said.

Hattie’s knife was suddenly back in her hand. Braxton hadn’t seen her bend down to retrieve it from her boot so either she only pretended to put it away before, or she had another concealed somewhere.

“I propose to tie you up and gag you,” she said. “Unless you force me to do something more permanent.”

“Stop this,” Braxton said, then turned to his friend. “Laurie, I have to go. Hattie and I have something important to do. It’s going to be difficult and dangerous, and it will be more so with another person along. We need you to stay here.”

Laurie raised an eyebrow. “Where it’s safe?” he asked.

“I already lost you once, brother. I can’t do that again.”

“And I should just let you go? Maybe to your death?” Laurie asked. “What about me? How am I to live with that? “

Braxton felt the guilt twist in him like a knife.

“Not to mention what will happen to me if you escape and I’m still here in the morning,” he went on. “They’ll assume that I could have stopped you and I didn’t, or that I helped you. I’ll be back in Andersonville before the week is out.”

Braxton hung his head. He’d been so sure of his own moral superiority, he’d never considered what it would do to Laurie if he left. He turned to Hattie. “I guess we have to take him with us.”

“I am in charge of this operation,” Hattie said. “And he is most definitely not coming. We’ll tie him up and gag him so the guards with think he tried to stop us. That’s all we can do.” She pointed at Braxton with the slender knife. “I don’t want you coming with me, but I’ve got no say in that. I’m damn well sure not taking a tourist.”

“A doctor could come in handy,” Braxton said.

“No,” Hattie said.

“If anyone’s staying behind, it’s Braxton.”

This last came from Laurie. During Braxton and Hattie’s argument, he’d moved over to the window and was examining the hole left by the extracted bar.

Hattie rounded on him, holding the knife waist high. She rolled her hips in a gesture that was meant to look feminine but Braxton had enough experience with balance to know that it put her weight over her back leg. If Laurie did something stupid, she could spring on him in a second.

“What are you babbling about?” she asked.

Laurie pointed at the open window.

“It’s plenty big enough for you, even with those hips,” Laurie said, a sardonic smile on his face. “It’d be a tight fit for me, but I’ve always been thin.” He stepped away from the window and moved around Hattie. “Ol’ Braxton here,” he said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Braxton likes to play with heavy machines. He’ll never fit through there, not with these big shoulders.” He shot Hattie a smirk and went on. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

Hattie’s jaw dropped open as she whirled around. The opening in the bars didn’t look very big and, as Hattie approached it, Braxton realized what Laurie had seen. He’d never be able to get through.

Hattie said a very unladylike word and turned on Laurie. The doctor held up his hands and laughed.

“Don’t blame me, I had nothing to do with it.”

She turned her murderous gaze on Braxton, grinding her teeth against the obvious desire to scream at him.

“Maybe I can pull one of the other bars out,” Braxton said, stepping up to the window.

He took hold of the bar and braced his knee against the wall. Laurie had been right, he had lots of experience lifting boilers, pistons, and all manner of heavy things. He took a deep breath and exhaled as he pulled.

Nothing.

“Well what now?” Laurie asked, looking at Hattie. “You go on without us?”

“I can’t,” Hattie said. “I absolutely have to have Braxton with me. What we need now is a good old fashioned prison mob.”

Braxton had no idea how to organize a mob, and certainly not from a locked cell. Before he could reply, however, the quiet of the night was shattered by the blast from a steam whistle.

“They found out that you’re gone,” Braxton said.

“No,” Hattie shook her head. “That’s not the prisoner alarm; it’s something else.”

As they listened, the whistle sounded again but at a different pitch. As one they rushed to the window. At first, it seemed like nothing was happening. The guards on patrol stood gripping their weapons and looking around as if they didn’t know what to do. A moment later they turned and shouldered their guns.

“They must have gotten a new escape alarm,” Laurie said.

The guards fired and the boom echoed off the stone tower. One guard knelt to reload, but his companion grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to his feet. A moment later they ran, not an orderly retreat, but in desperate flight.

“What’s going on?” Braxton wondered.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hattie said. “This is our chance. I’ll go—”

“Look!”

Laurie’s cry drew their attention back to the window. Outside several men armed with axes and mattocks walked calmly across the courtyard. From somewhere beyond the other building, gunfire sounded but the men kept walking.

“They’re Toks,” Braxton gasped.

“You did this,” Laurie said. “How did you manage it?”

Braxton shook his head in bewilderment, then he heard Stan’s voice in his head,
I was built to repair other Toks
.

Stan had done this. But how? He’d only been gone for a few hours, half a day at most.

“It doesn’t matter who’s doing it,” Hattie said. “I’ll go out and try to come in through the main door. I can open the cell from the hall and let you out.”