Luke shook her off. It wasn’t the money. It was the principle of the thing. The guy with the mohawk had stolen their TTT. It was in his hand. Luke wasn’t going pay a ransom for it.
“Give it back, man,” he said, holding his hand out. “Now. You don’t need it.”
“Americans,” the guy said dismissively, and then he spit on the ground to emphasize the point.
“How do you know we’re Americans?” David asked. “Maybe we’re . . . Canadians.”
“You think you own the world,” the boy replied. “That’s how I know you are Americans.”
“We don’t own the world,” Luke informed the guy. “But we do own that thing you’re holding. It belongs to us.”
“Are you accusing me of stealing?” the guy asked.
“Yes!”
“It’s not important, Luke,” Miss Z told him. “I can make a new—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Luke made a quick, hard jab with his right hand to the guy’s throat and followed it up with a left to his stomach. The guy gasped and doubled over, flipping the TTT a few feet up in the air. David grabbed it before it could hit the ground.
“Thank you!” Luke said with exaggerated gratitude as the guy gasped for breath on his knees. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Nice move, dude!” David said as they hurried away, genuinely impressed. “You learn that in karate?”
“Yeah,” Luke replied. “It was just a video I saw. The element of surprise. Works every time.”
The Flashback Four pushed Miss Z’s wheelchair hurriedly back down Via dell’Abbondanza and through the Porta Marina gate, to the spot where they had arrived at Pompeii an hour earlier. It was just before one o’clock.
“Okay, everybody get tight,” Miss Z instructed, “like you’re posing for a picture.”
The group squeezed closer together. In the distance, a church bell rang, announcing the hour.
“Hey, look!” Julia shouted, pointing toward the Porta Marina gate.
Five burly guys in rugby shirts were striding purposely in their direction. The guy with the mohawk was in front of them, talking in Italian.
“Oh, shoot!” Luke said.
The rugby players were about twenty feet away and closing.
“What are we going to do now?” asked Isabel, putting her hands over her eyes.
Fortunately, the Flashback Four didn’t have to do anything. At that moment, in the offices of Pasture Company, Mrs. Vader hit the SEND button on her keyboard. The Board lit up in bands of color. In Pompeii, the Flashback Four started flickering.
“Huh?” one of the rugby players said, stopping short a few feet away.
“So long, suckers!” shouted David.
At that moment, the Flashback Four and Miss Z disappeared from Pompeii and reappeared back in Boston.
CHAPTER 8TOOLS OF THE TRADE
“AHAHAHAHAHA!”
The Flashback Four were in hysterics as they tumbled onto the carpet, nearly knocking down a floor lamp and falling all over each other.
“Did you see the look on that guy’s face?” David said, barely able to control himself. “I wish we took a picture of him.”
“I didn’t see it,” Isabel cackled. “I had my eyes closed the whole time!”
“They looked like they were gonna kill us!” said Luke.
Even Miss Z couldn’t stop herself from giggling a little.
“I want you kids to know that I do not approve of violence in any form,” she said, trying to regain her composure. “But that fellow did have it coming.”
“What happened?” asked Mrs. Vader. “Did you get in trouble over there?”
“No, no,” Miss Z assured her. “Everything went perfectly. We had an absolutely delightful time in Pompeii. It was just as I remembered it.”
“I’m sorry I lost the TTT for a little while,” Isabel said.
“You didn’t lose it,” Luke told her. “That guy was a criminal.”
“Oh, who cares, anyway?” Julia bubbled, not wanting to put a damper on the festive mood. “That was fun! I haven’t had so much fun since . . . since we were on the Titanic.”
Luke, David, Julia, and Isabel glanced at one another. Each of them had the same thought. Their quick outing to Pompeii had been a blast all around. They had forgotten what pure exhilaration felt like. They had experienced it in Gettysburg and on the Titanic. Now they wanted to feel that feeling again. It was almost like an addiction.
But they would have to convince Miss Z. On their first two missions, the Flashback Four had encountered very dangerous, life-threatening situations. She hadn’t forgotten that. Even though their little jaunt to Pompeii had worked out, she was still reluctant to send them on another mission.
Isabel, Julia, and David instinctively turned to Luke to be the group spokesman.
“Okay,” he said, pulling a chair over so he would be at the same eye level as Miss Z. “You said Mount Vesuvius erupted at noon, right? And the date was . . .”
“August twenty-fourth, in the year 79,” Isabel remembered.
“Right,” Luke continued. “You said it took a half an hour before all that ash and rock and stuff started falling on Pompeii. So if you were to zap us over there before noon on that day, and zap us back a few minutes after noon, we could be back here in time for lunch. What could go wrong?”
“Famous last words,” said Miss Z.
“We’ll bring back a photo of Mount Vesuvius erupting, for your museum,” Luke promised. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“You can count on us, Miss Z,” added Julia. “We’re getting good at this.”
“Please?” begged David and Isabel.
The Flashback Four looked at Miss Z with their puppy-dog eyes. She could see the yearning in their faces. She could see how they had bonded together as a team. And she had seen with her own eyes how determined and competent they could be in a pressure situation.
“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” she finally agreed. “But I’ll let you go on one more mission.”
“Yes!” the kids shouted, high-fiving and clapping each other on the back.
“We’re going back to Pompeii!” Julia whooped and shouted triumphantly.
“But I want you kids to know something,” Miss
