“All the way,” he said.
“A friend of mine was supposed to be on this bus, but I don’t see him.”
“Who’s your friend?” he laughed. “Orville?”
Orville. Wilbur. Lindbergh. Ha ha, this guy was a real comedian.
“His name is Spader. He’s taller than I am and has black hair. His eyes are kind of Asian looking. Did he get on the bus in New York?”
“Look, Ace,” the driver said, “I don’t remember every Joe who rides my bus. Who do I look like? Sherlock Holmes?”
“No, but, this guy’s different looking,” I said, pressing the issue. This was 1937. I didn’t think there were many Asian-looking people riding New Jersey buses.
“Look,” he said impatiently, “if I saw him, I’d tell you. But I didn’t, so I can’t. All right?”
That was it. Spader wasn’t on the bus. But that didn’t make sense. If this was the bus from New York, then why wasn’t he on it? I fell down into an empty seat, beaten. My death dive from Jinx’s airplane was a waste of time and adrenaline. I had no idea what to do next. Worse, I was alone. Gunny was still flying through the storm. All I could do was ride to Lakehurst with the other tourists and figure out something once I got there. I glanced at my watch. It was 6:30. TheHindenburgwould arrive in less than an hour. Things were looking bleak.
A few minutes later the bus pulled into a gas station. The driver stopped at the pumps, then stood up and spoke to the passengers. “It’s another ten minutes to the airfield, folks,” he announced. “I need to gas up. It won’t take long, so don’t go wandering off.” The guy then left the bus to fill up.
This was torture. I needed to get to the airfield as soon as possible. Every minute was critical. But I didn’t know where I was going or how to get there, so I had to wait it out here with the tourists. I listened in to some of their conversations. They were all talking about theHindenburg. They chatted about how it was such an amazing ship and seeing it was like getting a glimpse into the future. Man, this was freaky. If they had any idea of how horrible that future was going to be, they wouldn’t be so happy.
I couldn’t stand hearing this anymore, so I tuned out. That’s when I glanced out the window and saw something that made me sit bolt upright in surprise.
A black car was on the other side of the pumps from the bus. Sitting in the driver’s seat was the goon who worked security for Max Rose! He was the guy who kept grabbing Spader and me in the kitchen of the hotel and bringing us upstairs.
Then, walking out of the gas station, I saw Max Rose himself. I couldn’t believe it. These were the guys I was chasing and here they were, right in front of me! I was back in business. I jumped up and ran out of the bus, nearly knocking over the driver who was trying to get back on.
“Mr. Rose!” I shouted. Max looked up, but didn’t break out in his usual confident smile. No, he was on his own mission now. He had to stop Winn Farrow from blowing up his criminal empire.
“Buck! I was wondering where you were,” he said. “Flash didn’t think you’d make it.”
Flash? That meant Spader. But when did he talk to Spader?
“Hobey-ho, Pendragon,” came a familiar voice.
I spun around to see Spader climbing out of the backseat of the gangster’s car! That’s why he wasn’t on the bus. He had hitched a ride with Max Rose.
A second before, I had thought all was lost. Now I was standing right in front of the very people I came down here to stop. I still didn’t have any idea what to do, but at least I was back in the game.
I ran to Spader, grabbed his arm, and pulled him away from the car. This would be tricky. He was here to help Max Rose and his goons. I had to let him know that things had changed. Drastically.
“Hey, where you going?” Max Rose shouted.
“Be right back!” I shouted. I pulled Spader far enough away so we couldn’t be heard.
D. J. MacHale
The Never War
“What are you doing, mate?” Spader asked. “Don’t make him mad. He’s on our side, remember?”
“No, he’s not,” I whispered back. “Don’t ask questions; just listen. We’ve gotta let Winn Farrow blow up the ship.”
“What?”
“Max Rose has a spy network that’s working with the Nazis. If the ship lands safely, those spies are gonna help Germany build a terrible weapon and win the war. If that happens, three territories are going down.”
Spader looked confused. I didn’t blame him. It was a lot to swallow.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “How do you know that?”
“We saw it all on Third Earth. Look, it’ll take too long to explain, but believe me, it’s true. We have to make sure history plays out the way it’s supposed to. Winn Farrowmustblow up theHindenburg.”
“We’re leaving!” shouted Max Rose. His car was all gassed up and they were ready to roll. We had to go with them.
“You gotta believe me, Spader,” I said.
I then pulled Spader back toward the car. It was strange. I had never seen Spader act like this. Normally he would charge right out front, leading the way into whatever adventure lay ahead. But now, he seemed lost. I guess I couldn’t blame him. I had just hit him with some pretty confusing news. Everything he thought to be true had just been turned inside out. Hey, I knew the feeling. I could only hope that he’d get his mind around it fast, so we could come up with a plan.
But all we could do just then was get in the car with Max Rose, stay close to him, and be ready to move when the chance came. Ifthe chance came.
Spader and I got in the backseat with Max Rose. Two of Rose’s big thugs were in front. It was three on two. I hoped it wouldn’t come down to a fight between us, because we’d get pounded. The driver hit the gas and we were on the way to our date with a zeppelin.
“I owe you boys,” Max Rose said while wiping nervous sweat from his forehead with an expensive silk handkerchief. “Help me stop that rat Farrow, and I’ll take care of you. The deal I’ve got brewing is bigger than you can imagine.”
I could imagine it, all right. The deal he had going was to send the U.S. down the tubes by selling atomic secrets to the Nazis. There was a rat in this equation, but it wasn’t Winn Farrow.
“We know how they’re getting close to theHindenburg,”Rose continued. “They have uniforms and badges like the ground crew wears. Nobody will look twice at ‘em.”
“How’d you find that out?” I asked.
One of the thugs up front said, “We convinced one of Farrow’s boys to come clean.” The two laughed, like they were all sorts of proud for having squeezed that information out of him.
My guess was the guy who “came clean” was probably Saint Dane. He wanted Rose to know exactly what Farrow was up to. As always, he was pulling the strings, making us dance.
“I know every one of those boys,” Rose continued. “I’ll point ‘em out, then we take ‘em down.” He patted the gun that was hidden under his jacket. That was Rose’s plan. He was going to find Farrow’s men and shoot them. Simple as that. Bang bang. Not exactly a complicated Mission Impossible-style caper.
“How are we going to get inside the airfield?” I asked. “We don’t have uniforms.”
Rose pulled out a wad of cash. “We’ll get in,” he said. “We’re just some innocent tourists who want to see the big ship come in, and we’re willing to pay to get a good view. Money talks. Always has, always will.”
I stared out the window. Forty minutes to go. As I sat in that car, speeding toward destiny, I had no idea how this would play out.
Then something caught my eye. It was a street sign that showed we were traveling on Toms River Road. We then passed another sign. The intersection for Route 527 was coming up. That was weird. I had never been here before, but it seemed familiar. How could that be?
The car charged forward, headed for the four-way intersection. That’s when it hit me. I definitely knew this place. I’d heard about it in the library on Third Earth. History showed that Max Rose died in a car crash, 6:50p.m. on May 6. Intersection of Toms River Road and Route 527. I glanced at my watch. It was 6:50. Spader and I were in the very same car, charging toward a gruesome date with an innocent motorcycle cop.
We were only a few yards from the intersection now. I quickly glanced to the left and saw it. The motorcycle cop was speeding toward the same intersection. We were seconds away from getting T-boned into oblivion. There
