Hour Game Part 27

"They're actually pretty cool. They have all these events, infantry drilling, hospital demonstrations, bands, dances, even fancy b.a.l.l.s, afternoon teas, candlelight tours. The cavalry charges are really something. These guys are serious about this stuff. You'll see hundreds of them out there today, although during the actual war the armies had tens of thousands of soldiers. But they put on a good show anyway."

"How did Eddie get into that? Doesn't seem like something a sensitive artist would be drawn to."

"I think it was his father who was interested in it at first. He was very much into history, even helped finance some of the battle reenactments."

"Was Eddie very close to his father?"

"I think he wanted to be. That's one reason he got into reenactments-at least that's my educated guess. But Bobby Battle was an inscrutable fellow. And he wasn't around all that much. I think he preferred sailing around the world in a hot-air balloon or building a factory in Asia to raising his kids."

"I understand he offered you a job after you rescued Eddie."

Bailey looked surprised that she knew this.

"He did but I wasn't interested."

"Mind my asking why not?"

"No big secret. I just liked being an FBI agent. I hadn't been with the agency all that long, and I wanted to make a career out of it."

"How'd you bust the case?"

"Got a tip that I ran to its source. Eddie was in college back then, and I did some digging around. Found out this guy living at the same apartment complex was a convicted felon."

"Why didn't Eddie live at home? Didn't he go to UVA?"

"No, he went to Virginia Tech over in Blacksburg, a few hours from here. Anyway, turns out this guy had found out who Eddie was, or more to the point who Eddie's parents were. Eddie came home late one night, and next thing he knew he was tied up in a shack in the middle of nowhere."

"How'd you learn about the shack?"

"The guy had used it before for hunting. I'm not saying he was the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was dangerous. The Battles paid the money; but we were watching when the pickup was made."

"Wait a minute; I thought the Battles didn't pay the ransom."

"No, they did but they got it back-well, at least most of it."

"I'm not following."

"With kidnappings the dicey piece for the criminal is getting the payoff. Today you can do it with wire transfers and computer gimmicks and such, but it's still tricky. Twenty years ago it was far harder. But this guy thought he had it figured out. He had the drop arranged so it was at a shopping mall on a Sat.u.r.day, people everywhere. He must have scoped out the place, because he knew where this back exit was. As soon as he took the bag, he disappeared into a sea of people."

"How'd you pick him up, then?"

We had two transmitters hidden on the bag. But we figured he'd think of that and toss the bag, so we had transmitters in some of the cash wrappers binding the money. We didn't think he'd throw out the money. He did, in fact, toss out the bag. But we were still able to follow him right to the shack."

"Wasn't that a risk, not arresting him on the spot?"

"The bigger risk was never finding Eddie. This guy's past history showed him to be a loner. If Eddie was alive, and that was a big if, this guy was probably going back to either set him free or more likely kill him."

"And that's when the shoot-out happened?"

"He must have spotted us and opened fire, and we returned it. We had a sniper with us, and the kidnapper took one in the head."

"You said you recovered most of the money?"

Bailey laughed. "After he spotted us and opened fire, this idiot burned about five hundred thou of the five million total in the potbellied stove that was in the shack. I guess he was thinking we weren't going to get himand the money." the money."

"Lucky you didn't hit Eddie," said Mich.e.l.le.

He looked at her sternly. "It's easy to play Monday-morning quarterback."

"I'm not trying to second-guess what you did. I've been in situations like that too. It's never easy. The important thing is, Eddie lived."

"That's the way I've always seen it." Bailey pointed up ahead. "And there he is in the flesh."

They'd turned off the main highway and into a parking area filled with trucks, horse trailers, campers and RVs. Along one side numerous tents were set up. Mich.e.l.le waved at Eddie, who was busy getting his gear together. They got out of the car and joined him.

"So what are you this time?" asked Bailey.

Eddie grinned. "I'm a man of many talents, so I've got multiple roles. First, I'm a major in the 52nd Virginia in an all-Virginia brigade under General John Pegram's Division. After that I saddle up as part of the 36th Virginia Cavalry Battalion, Johnson's Brigade under General Lomax's Division. I belong to lots of different units actually; they're always looking for bodies. h.e.l.l, I've mustered up in Confederate armies in Tennessee, Kentucky, Alabama and even Texas. Done artillery, cavalry, infantry, even went up in an observation balloon once. Now, don't tell my mother, but I've suited up in Union blue on occasion too. "

"Sounds pretty involved," said Mich.e.l.le.

"Oh, it's quite a show. There are primers for how to put one of these events together, complete with sample budgets, marketing plans, logistics, finding sponsors, that sort of thing."

Mich.e.l.le pointed to the line of tents. "What are those?"

"They call them sutlers," replied Eddie. "During the actual Civil War merchants would follow the armies and sell them things. Sutlers nowadays sell period-style items and goods to reenactors and the public. As for the reenactors there are definitely different levels. They have the ones called thread-counters who make sure their uniforms are authentic down to fabric having the same thread count as during the real war, hence the nickname." Eddie deadpanned, "They're also referred to as the st.i.tch n.a.z.is." Bailey and Mich.e.l.le laughed. "Then you have the other side of the spectrum, the Farbys; those are the ones who dare to have polyester in their uniforms or use plastic dinnerware during a reenactment, when those things weren't even invented at the time of the real war. I call themJulie instead of instead ofJohnny Rebs." Rebs."

"So which are you, n.a.z.i or Julie?" asked Mich.e.l.le.

He grinned. "I'm a tweener. Most of my stuff is authentic, but I occasionally bend to the comforts of life at times as well." He lowered his voice, "Don't tell anyone, but my uniform has some rayon in it and, G.o.d forbid, Lycra. And if you press me on the point, I won't deny that there might be some plastic thingies on my person."

"Your secret is safe with me."

"I'm actually going to buy some stuff from the sutlers today. Everybody's gearing up for the reenactment of the Battle of Gettysburg in Pennsylvania in July. Then we got the Spotsylvania, Virginia, campaign coming up; the Road to Atlanta and the Battle of Franklin are in the fall. But this battle today is a pretty big deal. The Union outnumbered the rebels by about a third on both the infantry and cavalry side and had over twice the number of artillery pieces, but the Yanks suffered double the number of killed and wounded."

As Mich.e.l.le helped him with his gun, canteen and bedroll, she looked around at all the activity. "This is like a big movie production."

"Yeah, but without the big payday."

"Little boys who never grow up," replied Bailey, shaking his head and grinning. "The toys just get bigger and more elaborate."

"Is Dorothea here?" Mich.e.l.le asked.

Eddie shrugged. "My good wife would rather have all her hair pulled out one strand at a time than come and see me play soldier." A bugle sounded. "Okay, the camps are open. They'll start with a little lecture about the battle and such, some infantry field drilling, music and then a cavalry demonstration."

"You said you're riding. Where's your mount?"

Eddie pointed to a thirteen-hands-high nimble-looking Tennessee walker tethered to a trailer parked next to Eddie's truck. "There's my ride, Jonas. Sally's taken good care of him, but that horse is ready for some real action."

They headed to the army camps. Mich.e.l.le watched with great admiration as Eddie drilled on foot, then took Jonas through some very intricate paces during the cavalry demonstration. The spectators were required to leave the camps before the artillery barrage began. At the first salvo Mich.e.l.le covered her ears.

Then the first day of the battle was announced.

Eddie pointed them to a spot where they could "watch me die gloriously." He also pointed out the hospitality tents. "Hot dogs and cold Buds. That's a perk no Civil War soldier ever saw," he said.

"I hear they're filming this," said Bailey.

"That's right. They shoot lots of them. For posterity," he added sarcastically.

"I'm a.s.suming all the guns and cannon are loaded with blanks," said Mich.e.l.le.

"Mine is. I sure as h.e.l.l hope everyone else followed that same rule." Eddie smiled. "Don't worry, we're all pros here. There won't be any musket b.a.l.l.s flying around." He stood and balanced all his equipment. "Sometimes I don't know how those guys walked, much less fought, with all this stuff. I'll see you later. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," said Mich.e.l.le as he hustled off.

CHAPTER 53.

THE MESSAGE WAS SITTING ONKyle's Jeep when he came down from his apartment. He opened the envelope and read the contents, a broad smile covering his face. It was from his prescription pill client, the crazy exhibitionist with a love for silenced weapons. She wanted to meet, at a local motel, very late that night. She had even included the room number. She apologized for what she'd done and wanted to make amends. She promised him five thousand dollars and, more intriguingly, consummation of what he'd expected to receive the last time. She wanted him, the letter said. She wanted him badly. He would never forget the experience. And she'd included another inducement: ten one-hundred-dollar bills. It was probably the very same cash she'd made him leave behind.

He put the money in his pocket, climbed into his Jeep and set off. His blackmail scheme hadn't paid off; he'd obviously been wrong about what he'd seen. But now this new opportunity had presented itself, and with the grand already in his pocket, how could he really lose? Okay, she probably wasn't playing with a full deck, but he didn't figure her for any more gun wielding. Why would she give him this much money if she didn't mean what she said? He would be very careful, but Kyle took this as perhaps the luckiest day of his life. And he told himself he'd be rough with her, as a little payback for scaring him so badly. He bet she liked it rough. Well, he'd give the b.i.t.c.h more than she bargained for. Big Kyle was on the warpath.

Mich.e.l.le and Bailey watched through binoculars as the battle, or rather the series of skirmishes, took place all over the area: charges and countercharges and hand-to-hand fighting that looked incredibly realistic. Every time the cannon boomed Mich.e.l.le jumped and Bailey laughed.

"Rookie," he said jokingly.

Columns of men in gray and b.u.t.ternut brown would pour out to be met by walls of their counterparts in blue. Even with all the smoke, shots, cannon fire, screams, confusion and rush of feet and smack of saber against saber everywhere, Mich.e.l.le could easily see how the real thing would be far worse. At least no blood was pooling on the ground, no limbs were scattered around; there were no real sobs that heralded the dying gasps of the mortally wounded. The worst injury they'd observed was a sprained ankle.

Mich.e.l.le became very alert when she saw Eddie and his ragtag company explode out of the woods shrieking the famous rebel yell. They were met by a volley of fire by their Union opponents, and half the men fell to the dirt, dead or dying. Eddie wasn't hit in the initial fire, and he and about a dozen of his men raced on. Eddie jumped the wooden breastworks and engaged in furious hand-to-hand combat with three Union soldiers, dropping two of them as Mich.e.l.le looked on enthralled. He actually lifted one of the men up and threw him into a bush. As his soldiers were dropping all around him, Eddie pulled his saber and did some intricate swordplay with a Union captain, finally running him through.

So realistic was it all that when Eddie turned to seek out another foe and took a rifle round right in his gut, Mich.e.l.le felt all her breath rush out. As Eddie dropped to the ground, she felt an almost overpowering urge to pull her own weapon, rush forward and shoot the man who'd just killed Eddie.

She turned and found Bailey's gaze on her. "I know. I felt the same way the first time I saw him get killed."

For a few minutes none of the men moved at all, and Mich.e.l.le felt herself growing nervous. Then Eddie sat up, leaned over and spoke to the fallen man next to him, stood and walked over to join a relieved Mich.e.l.le and Bailey.

He took off his hat, wiped his sweaty brow.

"That was absolutely amazing, Eddie," said Mich.e.l.le.

"Aw, shucks, ma'am, you should've seen me at Gettysburg or Antietam. Now, there I was in fine form."

You looked pretty fine today,thought Mich.e.l.le, and then she caught herself, King's remonstrations coming back to her: he was married. Even if his wife apparently didn't care for him, he was still married.

"How do you know who dies or not?" she asked.

"It's all pretty much planned out before. Most reenactments are held Friday to Sunday. On Friday people start gathering and the generals go around to everybody, tell them what they need, who's going to be where, who dies, who doesn't. A lot depends on who shows up and with what-horses, cannon, stuff like that. Most everybody here is experienced, so there's not much of a learning curve. And the fighting is ch.o.r.eographed, at least for the most part; but there's always some room for improvisation. The guy I picked up and dumped in the bush? That was a little payback on my part. The last battle the little s.h.i.t smacked me in the head with his sword handle. Said it was an accident. I had a knot on my head for a week. So Iaccidentally picked him up and threw him into that thornbush." picked him up and threw him into that thornbush."

She looked over where the "dead" men were still on the ground. "Are there rules about how long you have to stay there?"

"Yes, but it's flexible. Sometimes the general tells you beforehand you have to stay down until the battle's over. Or if we have ambulance carriers that show up; we may be taken off the field that way. They're filming today, so it's all a little trickier, but the cameras switched to another skirmish after I got killed, so I cheated a little and jumped ship." He added with a shy grin, "The scenery's a lot better over here."

"Compared to dead bodies? I don't think I'll take that as a compliment," said Mich.e.l.le, returning his smile.

They later watched Eddie on horseback where he led his men on tactical probes of the Union line. The hors.e.m.e.n flashed by, racing up and down knolls and jumping obstacles in their way.

Mich.e.l.le turned to Bailey. "Where'd he learn to ride like that?"

"You'd be surprised at what the man can do. Have you seen any of his paintings?"

"No, but I really want to."

Eddie rode by later and tossed his plumed cavalry hat to Mich.e.l.le.

"What's that for?" she said, catching it.

"I wasn't killed. You must be my good-luck charm," he called out before dashing off again.

A ladies' tea and fashion show followed. After that was instruction on dances of the Civil War era. Eddie partnered with Mich.e.l.le and helped teach her the intricate steps of several. A formal ball followed that was supposed to be for reenactors only, but Eddie had a Civil War-era dress he said he'd bought from one of the sutlers that he gave to Mich.e.l.le.

She looked at it in surprise. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Why, milady, if we're crashing the ball, you have to have the proper accoutrements. Come on, you can change in the truck. I'll stand guard so your reputation will remain intact."

Eddie had gotten an outfit for Chip Bailey too, but the FBI agent announced he had to leave.

"I'll drive her home, then," said Eddie. "I can't stay for the second day of the battle anyway. I'm leaving tonight."

Mich.e.l.le looked a little uncomfortable with this, but Eddie said, "I promise I'll be the perfect gentleman. And remember we have Jonas in the trailer as a chaperone."

They spent the next two hours dancing and eating and drinking.

Eddie finally sat down, his big chest heaving while Mich.e.l.le looked barely out of breath.

"Okay, girl, you've got some wind, I'll say that."

"Well, I didn't fight in a war today."

"I'm beat and my back is killing me. I've been riding horses and doing this fighting stuff way too long. You ready to call it a day?"

"I am."

Before they left, he took a Polaroid of her in her ball gown. "I'll probably never see you dressed like that again," he explained, "so I might as well have proof of it."