Page 11 of After 5

We have an Eastern European unit. Most of the travelers in this unit are assigned to China, Japan, both Koreas, and parts of Vietnam. I can’t be on that team because I flunked Mandarin 101. There were too many symbols for me to wrap my head around and trying to speak Chinese with my Texas drawl gave Jake permanent lines between his eyebrows.

There are no travelers from the Middle East. At least that we know of. If the insurgent, territory-controlling, religious fanatic terrorists from these countries knew we had time travelers…the world would be a different place.

There’s the European unit, which Caiyan used to be a part of after my great-aint Elma died and left him without a transporter. It was the reason the obnoxious Russian criminal, Rogue, was the main brigand he followed.

Most of the travelers were combined now. We still had different teams, but a person could be assigned to any team depending on the languages they mastered and their heritage.

The Russians, as the WTF called them because two of the five travelers were from Russia, were made up of the two Russians, a beautiful Polish girl, and our newest traveler, Campy.

I walked to the blue room, stopping off at the ladies’ room to pee. Using a toilet instead of urinating in the woods was top priority. I searched my locker for an extra pair of panties. It icked me out to return my thong to its original location since the red lace had contacted Kishin’s drool, but going commando didn’t seem appropriate.

Our conference roomat the WTF, aka the blue room, had trippy eighties wallpaper met in the middle by a chair rail. The penny-pinching hand of the government didn’t reach out to the secret agency located in the basement of Gitmo. Interior décor wasn’t top priority. Instead, the funds were spent on soccer fields, satellite TV, and razor wire.

Thanks to Lyndon B. Johnson, the WTF was a super covert agency. The former president founded the top secret organization to help the travelers become an alliance. It also clearly divided the brigands from the righteous.

The camps of Gitmo were worn, and expensive for the government to maintain. The oblivious politicians and their lawyers tried to close the maximum security prison on a consistent basis. Only the top military officials knew of the WTF, because if the politicians knew they had time travelers who could change history, they’d piss themselves trying to overturn election results in their favor.

I entered the blue room. My team was seated around the conference table, inhaling the complimentary donuts. Everyone was present except for Ace, who was routinely late, and Marco. Casual greetings welcomed me as I poured myself a steaming cup of government-grade coffee and sat at my usual place.

“Yo, Jen,” came a mouth-filled hello from Brodie. My cousin Gertie, who also happens to be my roommate, considers Brodie her boyfriend. Thanks to me, the pair has been happily hooking up. Brodie had powdered sugar on the front of his Bob Marley t-shirt, giving Bob a Christmas feel.

I gave Brodie a finger wave and joined the group at the conference table.

“Hey cookie, you mind passing me one of those chocolate covered donut holes? The ones with the sprinkles.”

I snagged a glazed donut hole and popped it in my mouth, then pushed the tray closer to Gerry. He was an irritating defender. At a little over four feet tall, the dwarf had a giant attitude. He specialized in sneaky.

Tina, his transporter, sat beside him. Her dark hair was cut in a cute bob with the right side shaved over her ear. One headphone dangled on her shoulder, the other secured firmly in her ear as her fingers moved with rapid pace over her phone.

With her Asian skin and youthful appearance, sans makeup she could pass for a boy and used this talent to persuade brigands to lower their guard. Once, I asked her why she transported for the obnoxious Gerry instead of being assigned to the Eastern European team, and she told me if she was caught in her homeland she would be executed. Good reason.

“Where’s Marco?” Tina asked, and heads turned in my direction. Apprehensive eyes waited for my reply.

“We picked up Toecheese in Salem and brought him into custody,” I said, and explained Marco’s predicament.

When one of our team members didn’t show up for the meeting, there was concern, but rarely for Marco. It was nice for someone to be concerned about him. The other defenders were a bit miffed he had joined the WTF after years of refusing to be part of the team.

Brodie and Caiyan were tight, and Brodie took Marco with an uneasy lack of trust. Gerry didn’t have an opinion on the matter, and Ace slobbered uncontrollable infatuation when Marco was near.

“Poor guy,” Gerry said. This caught me off guard, because Gerry never had a nice word to say about anyone. “Salem’s a tough time. The guns are shit, and those people can do more damage with words and pitchforks than most outlaws with a fully loaded shotgun.”

“Good job. Toches was due for some cell time,” Brodie said, still somewhat bitter about losing the Thunder key to the brigand in a prior tussle.

A round of congrats followed for our capture. I didn’t want to spoil the goodwill by explaining we had saved Toches.

“Ace and Campy caught a brigand, too. One of the Cracky boys.” Gerry popped another donut hole.

“Campy?” I asked.

“Ace transported for Campy because Fredericka’s on vacation.” Tina answered, not taking her eyes off her phone. “They caught one of the Cracky Clan lifting the original recording of the iconic rock group Queen. The Cracky Clan were trying to steal Bohemian Rhapsody before it made its famous debut and pass it off as their own. Campy and Ace are in a debriefing with General Potts.”

“Wow, Campy’s first capture, impressive.” I washed another donut hole down with a sip of the strong coffee.

“Totally set them up, I did,” Brodie said. “If I didn’t have ta chase Caiyan’s mark, I’d a had them Crackys last travel.”

Brodie and Caiyan were buddies. They were like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. However, Butch Cassidy took a leave of absence and left the kid a mess of brigands to clean up.

Caiyan’s normal mark, Rogue, had been a thorn in my side from day one of my time travel adventure. We chased him, almost caught him once, but he was devious and slippery.

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