The next morning, Breana and I were standing outside the complex when Air Force 1 came roaring down from the sky.

“Ready?,” I asked Breana.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

As Breana and I stepped onto the loading platform, we were greeted by President Caldwell, who welcomed us into his luxury cabin. As we flew into the air, President Caldwell sat with us and handed us a list with a lot of dates and places.

“What’s this?,” I asked.

“These are the dates for places to visit in the time machine. The top ones are the most important and as you work your way down the list, less and less.”

“So we’re going to Vietnam first?,” Breana asked worriedly.

“Yes.”

“It’s alright,” I said, assured. “Don’t worry. We’re tough enough.”


As we touched down, I knew that this was a private experiment. We were in the middle of the desert. It was so lifeless, it made a cemetery seem like carnival.

“Where are we?,” Breana asked as she looked for any signs of life.

“Technically,” the pilot said. “The exact middle between Billings and Wolf Point, Montana.”

“Alright,” President Caldwell. “When we walk in, pull out your badges immediately, for we have no time to waste.”

We walked about a mile to a dusty raftor that looked like the neglected sister of a wind tunnel. We showed the guards our badges and were escorted to an amphitheatre like room.

“So this is it?,” I said.

“Yup. Oh Anton and Breana. This is my vice, Bradley Demport. He will give you directions and advise you through your time escapade.”

“Hi. I will be shooting your through the tutorial of this contraption.”

“Actually, sparky,” I said. “We don’t need a tutorial. I got this.”

“But, you’ve never even worked on one.”

“Actually, before I was stuck in the looney bin, I worked on the blueprints in University.”

“Well,” Bradley thought, “I guess we can jump right in. Get suited up.”

As Breana and I got about ready to lift off, President Caldwell came up to us and said, “Vietnam first.”


Breana ventured into the portal first, disappearing with a small zap and there was nothing left. My turn now. My heart felt like a drum in a marching band and my mind was a highway of thoughts about bad things that could happen to me. I slowly stepped into the machine. I began to feel my body tingling. Then, it felt as though I was being sucked into a giant cosmic vacuum cleaner. Then, it went dark. I awoke in a giant, marshy pond. The air was thick, filled with dragonflies, and tough to see in.

“Good morning. Welcome to Vietnam,” Breana said, looking through a pair of binoculars.

“Oh damn. Ugh. Doesn’t seem that nice. What are we doing in this rat hole of a country anyway?”

“Uh I believe it is to change the outcome of the Vietnam War. But I don’t see Saigon anywhere”

“Yeah, over that hill,” I said, lifting myself up from the marsh and picking moss from my boots. “Let’s go. Come on.”

We waded through water, grass, and mosquitoes. Then, we finally reached the street and quickly changed in a nearby restroom. We soon found the U.S. Army outpost and quickly entered. We asked everywhere for General Westmoreland.

“Who needs General Westmoreland?,” a soldier asked us.

“We do. We have info,” Breana said.

“About Vietnam,” I added.

We were quickly escorted to his office and seated immediately. General Westmoreland entered sat and said, rather gruffly, “Alright, make this quick.”

Explaining to him all we knew, he was astounded at the amount of knowledge we had obtained.

“Amazing,” he muttered. “Thank you for all the amazing intel. May I ask about the recovery of intel?”

“Sorry,” Breana said, acting as if she honestly couldn’t tell him. “But that is very confidential.”

“Touche,” General Westmoreland stated. “Good job. You must be on your way.”

As one of his men led us out, we were due at the extraction point soon. The walk was about 30 minutes, so on the way, Breana tried to make conversation.

“So Anton. Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself? Like where you are from, education, and your parents.”

“Uh, let me see. I was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on December 12, 1988. Both of my parents are from Krakow, Poland and are trained professors in psychotherapy. I went to University of Washington and double majored in psychotherapy and engineering.”

“Oh nice,” she said. “Did you have any family? Wife, girlfriend, or children?”

I was puzzled. No one ever brought up any of my other family other than my parents.

“Uh yeah,” I started carefully. “Yeah. I had a girlfriend for 3 years. Her name was Rebecca. She had long, raven black hair and big blue eyes. Ray Ban glasses and a tattoo of a butterfly on her left forearm.”

“Oh. What happened to her?”

“Uh well. It’s a little complicated, but on our 3rd anniversary, she went out with her friends. She ended up having way too many Long Island Iced Teas and cheated on me. You’d think she would apologize but she didn’t. She broke up with me, took our memories, and acted as if we had nothing. After the best years of my life.”

I felt tears swelling up in my eyes, like air in a balloon. I quickly wiped them away and I felt someone holding onto me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Breana latched onto me like I was was her mother.

“Uh thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a smile.

We arrived at the pick up point after fighting a swarm of nasty mosquitoes that thought we were a Hometown Buffet. We went to almost every time period that involved America. World War II at Normandy. West Africa to stop the slave trade. All sorts of time bending contortionist stuff.

After we finished destroying North Korea (literally), we got a message from Bradley.

“Anton? Breana? Anyone?”

“Hi Bradley!,” Breana chirped.

“President Caldwell requests extraction.”

“Well go ahead. We just finished Korea,” she said.

“Okay, this might be a bit uncomfortable,” Bradley said.

I felt my legs turn into gelatin. I could barely support myself. Then, my body was lifted up and I was back in the cosmic vacuum cleaner. I landed on my back with a hard “thud” and hit the linoleum floor of the lab.

“Argh. Dammit Bradley, you really need to fix the transportation system.”

“Sorry,” Bradley said, focusing on the computer. “We haven’t worked that bug out yet.”

“Wait! Where’s Breana?,” I yelled, frantically.

Then, she appeared and started falling. As I swooped in to catch her, she fell into my arms. I put her back on the ground and she looked at me.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said, then I turned to Bradley and said, “So what now, Sparky?”

“Well,” he said, still focused on his computer. “I dunno. He should be here shortly.”

Then, a wall opened and President Caldwell stepped out with his personal guard.

“Anoton! Breana! Congratulations! You have made America a utopia! Wonderful! You have completed your mission. Come! I have a wonderful view of New York City.”

He led us over to his office that overlooked New York. When I saw, I nearly had a heart attack.

Pillars of smoke rose from the remnants of the Empire State Building. Times Square reduced to rubble, with many people looking for their dead or injured in the pieces of brick, cement, and iron. The 9/11 Memorial turned into a mass grave for the innocent. I was thinking to myself, “And I was in Desitania for arson. This guy should’ve been their high security if he thinks this is utopia.” Breana had a look on her face of “Oh crap what have we done?” President Caldwell took a large breath and said, “Alright. A deal is a deal. Which city do you want your house to be in?”

“Seattle!,” we both screamed, simultaneously.

“Alright, alright,” President Caldwell said with a happy expression. “Seattle it is. Have a safe flight! Bye bye!”


At 7 AM, Breana and I landed in Seattle. We unloaded our bags and waited outside for our chauffeur. Seattle wasn’t any better. The Space Needle was spewing dark smoke from the top and looked as if it were to topple with so much as a light breeze. The Fish Market didn’t smell of fish, but rather it smelt of death as the dead were disposed of there. Even my university had crumbled buildings and fires blaring. The chauffeur dropped us off at our new house. We started unpacking when I thought about Rebecca.
“Hey Breana? Remember Rebecca?”
“Yep. What about her?”
“Uh I just thought about her and she might be here.”
“Really?,”Breana shouted as she rushed out of her room. “Well let’s go and confront her.”
“Uh I don’t think that that’s the best idea now.”
“Let’s go now.”
“Um. Okay,” I said as I grabbed my car keys.
In 20 minutes we were inside Pearly Gates Cemetery, standing Rebecca Louisa Jones’ gravesite. I laid a bouquet of flowers at her tombstone. Crying I turned to Breana and said, “The day she left, she was driving with her new boyfriend when she accidentally ran a red light. A semi truck ran into her and totaled her car. She survived but her boyfriend died on impact. She was in the hospital for 3 weeks until she found out about her boyfriend’s death. When she found out, she went mad. Next day, she took a shotgun and blew her head off. She was only 25. She might’ve broken my heart, but when she killed herself, it drove me mad. That’s why I set her house on fire. I thought that if I accepted this job, I could make her come back. But she is gone. And I am here, crying over my only love. The girl who I spent the three best years of my life with. Breana, I need to change this back. Rebecca would’ve wanted it and I am not letting her down. I’ve done that too much to her.”

“Alright, Anton,” she said. “I am with you.”

Rushing back to our house, Breana whipped out her cell phone and I went to the gun cellar in our basement to get supplies. I met Breana the next day at the Lipton Courtyard at the University of Washington.
“Anton, I’ve called in some favors from a couple friends.”
“Nice, who is this?,” I said pointing towards a scrawny, short, brown haired guy with little facial hair.
“That is Greg. He is our intel. And that is Steven, our strength,” she said, referencing a tall, big man with a walrus mustache and severe look.
“Good. Good. Who is this?”
“That is Andrea,” she said as she walked over to join her. She had eight-inch stilettos and a black cocktail dress.
“And last but not least, this is Marcus, our stealth.” He was balding, short and wore a grey hoodie and had a latte in hand.
I stood there a the talented group that Breana amassed.
“Good,” I said. “Well, the guns, ammo, provisions, and other stuff are in the truck and car. Do we know where we are springing the attacks?”
“Derik?,” Breana asked.
“Well, if my calculations are correct,” he said as he pulled out a map. “I believe we will need passports. He has hidden his time trap in Cartagena, Colombia.”
“Well,” I sighed. “Looks like we’re heading out of the country.

As we flew Cartagena, Breana sat next to me on the plane. As the flight attendant on the drink cart passed around, Breana fell asleep on my arm.
“Excuse me, sir. Would you and your wife like something to drink?”
“Well,” I said, then thought and said, “I’ll have a whiskey and she’ll have a strawberry lemonade.”
As the flight attendant handed us our drinks, Breana woke up and rubbed her eyes.
“Wha...?”
“I got you a strawberry lemonade.”
“How did you know? I love you!”
“I know, hun,” the flight attendant said. “That’s why you married him.”
“Oh but we ar...”
“Yes we are,” I whispered in her ear. “It’s to draw attention from us.”
She smiled as she understood. Then, she went back to resting in my arm.

As we landed, we quickly gathered our baggage and left for an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. We then unpacked and started formulating our plan.
“Well, maybe we could place a distraction bomb here in this AC duct. It has easy accessibility and easy placement,” Greg said.
“We couldn’t,” Steven said, shaking his head. “It also has easy visibility.”
“Well, how about this exposure near the reactor. It takes out weaponry,” Andrea pointed out.
“But here is a garrison here. It would be too risky,” Marcus pointed out.
“Well, maybe...” I started
“Hold up,” Breana said, walking over to a brick wall. She inspected the wall, and ended up putting her ear to her wall. A worried expression flooded her face as she heard beeping. She ran back over and said, “Anton. Implode it.”

I grabbed a rifle and shot the point of the beeping. Nothing but a hole in the wall.
“Phew. That wa...”
A loud explosion rocked the warehouse. Brick and iron falling. Shrapnel from the blast pelted us at low velocity.All of us grabbed arms and took cover. President Caldwell’s personal guard filled the main floor, laying down relentless gunfire and restricting our movement. Steven and Greg took control of the mini-gun on our truck and laid down fire, dropping guy after guy. Andrea and Marcus also hit many men with their unmatched accuracy. Breana and I had a plan, but we had to move. I told Steven to cover us while we went on movement. Guy after guy fell with red circling them. We finally reached our position and were able to stop this fire fight. I handed Breana an AK and said, “Drop anyone who comes near us or looks at us.” As she relentlessly fought hard, I pulled out disguised grenades and C4. Upon finding them, I threw three into their formations. They blew up and tore giant holes in their ranks. Trying to regroup, Steven and Greg’s mini-gun tore them up. Finally, I saw a white flag being waved. They laid own their arms and placed a full retreat.

After the force left, we assessed losses, supplies, and logistics. After much deliberation, we decided to take supplies on Liberacion, a fort in control of President Caldwell’s forces and a key place on the road to Cartagena. We’d have to sneak in at night , but it was possible. In the dead of night, the 6 of us snuck in and passed security and broke in. After Andrea sniped the guards in the tower, sneaking in was a easy as pie. Once inside the security chamber, Greg took control of the cameras and security clearances. Leaving Marcus with Greg, the rest of us stormed the main hangar. With the four of us on the floor and two people manning the missiles, rockets, and turrets, a massive fire fight broke out. Victory was assured after Marcus blew up a garrison. Taking all the available supplies, we were ready to storm the center. Days of planning and training went into this mission. A couple hours before the raid, Breana came into my office.
“Uh Anton? Can I speak with you?”
“Yeah. Sit down. I need to plan the storm and coordinate it.”
“I needed to thank you for being there for me. You’ve really helped me and no one’s ever really cared for me.”
“Uh you’re welcome. No problem. I’m here for you any day.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as Breana left, Greg came rushing in my room and ran his mouth.
“President Caldwell just found our operations. One of his air probes came over the base. If we are gonna do the storm today, we need to do it now!”
“Damn air probes,” I muttered. “Ruined element of surprise. Greg, assemble the team. We move in 10.”
In ten minutes, we were on I-65 on our way to the hangar. Upon arriving, we noticed the lax security up front.
“What do we do?,” asked Steven. “We can’t just walk in through the front door!”
“Or can we?,” I asked. Marcus, attach the mini-gun to the hood of the Hummer and load 1500 ammo. I’ll be right back.”
I snuck up to the side catwalk and observed all President Caldwell’s troops being amassed. A devilish smile was drawn upon my face as an evil idea came to mind.

5 minutes later, I came back to the Hummer. Steven, impatient, revved the car as I hopped in.
“Ready? Say a prayer,” Steven said as he slammed on the gas. Marcus manned the mini-gun and the rest of us hid under the door, clenching weapons, and getting ready to ambush. As Steven busted open the door, Marcus sprayed guys down as his blizzard of lead ripped through President Caldwell’s personal guard. The rest of us jumped out and took cover. Flows of soldiers came in as we were about to move.
“Put your weapons down,” I ordered.
As everyone laid down their arms, including the guard, I pulled out a remote from my sleeve and detonated the C4 I laid over the center, killing or incapacitating all of the troops. Moving towards the President’s office, I stopped.
“Marcus, Andrea. Stay here and hold off any guard that comes towards you. Steven, Greg. Go get the Hummer and come back help the resistance. Breana you are with me as we have a score to settle.

Breana and I busted through the office doors to President Caldwell’s study. At his desk was President Caldwell, sitting, playing the piano.
“Oh good! You’ve stopped the rebellion. I owe you twi...”
“Shut up, you greedy, power-tripping, murder crazy demon” Breana yelled, enraged.
“Well then. Not the response I was looking for but okay.”
“You lied to us. Cheated us. Made us your pawn,” Breana continued.
“Of course, you nieve misfit. You two were perfect bait to throw in the water. Both of you at the tip of voluntary insanity. Why Anton with tremendous ex issues. And you with your constant anxiety. You two were basically like almost uprooted trees!”
“Shut up about Rebecca!,” I yelled, anger coursing through every vein in my body.
“Enough!,” President Caldwell screamed. “I grow tired of this.” He pulled out a saber and a knife. “If you want to waste my time, do it later.” He threw the saber at me and the knife at Breana, which struck her in the torso. “Let us settle this like men.”
“You are not a man,” I spat back. “You are a misfortune. Swine. Dirt.”
Enraged, he swung his sword violently at me, which I easily parried.
“Scum. Peasant. Unfit for society.”
With each strike, he became weaker and weaker until a point where his attacks were slow and easily blockable.
“I will rip the life out through your mouth,” he yelled at me, sweat pouring from his brow.
“Die!,” he screamed, as he launched a final attack. He tripped on a stone and fell on his face. Once on the ground, he tried to stab me, but he missed and I knocked the sword out of his hand.
“Well Phillip. Looks like death for you.”
“Never! I gave you freedom! I gave you a new life!”
“I had a better life in Desitania. When you weren’t in my life.”
“I’ve heard that from people just like you but sooner or later.”
“Sooner or later what?!”
“You’ll end up like Rebecca!,” he spat at me, the tripped me, grabbed his sword and charged at me.
I grabbed my saber and slashed his chest and face, leaving a thin, red line on his body. Falling to the ground, he touched his face, saw blood, and mouthed the words “Even in death, you won’t forget me” and fell dead.

I hurriedly scuttled over to Breana’s limp body.
“Breana! Breana! Speak to me!,” I shouted over and over again.
“Anton... Is that you...?”
“Yes! Yes, it’s me! Are you okay?”
“Anton... Pull it out...”
“What?! No! I am taking you to the hospital and they’ll save you!”
“No... I am suffering... Do not make me... suffer anyone...”
“Must I?”
“Yes... Because you know me. Go... Please...”
Gripping the bloodied knife handle, I looked at Breana.
“I love you Anton. Show me you love me...”
On the verge of tears, I ripped the knife out. Breana gasped, drew one last breath, and died. Closing her eyes, I silently cried. And I cried until I couldn’t anymore. After a while, I walked to the time machine and tried to find its power source. I opened the power box and slashed all the wires. A large, white beam of energy shot into the sky. Then nothing. Nothing but blue sky.

After a week, I returned to Seattle to give Breana a proper burial. I gave her a nice funeral, prepared and paid for by me. Family, friends, and mental patients alike came to pay their respects. Almost breaking down, I pulled myself together to give her eulogy. After the funeral, I bought a plot at Pearly Gates Cemetery next to Rebecca. I designed her tombstone. It read
‘Here Lies Breana Jane Alysen
6/24/88-11/30/13
A Friend
A Girlfriend
A Partner
RIP’
I could never get over her. The image of her dead body haunted me each night. Restless, I sought professional help. After 6 months of therapy, she is now inspiration not a haunting. There are two times when I think of her, though. First, is when I hear Hotel California by Eagles. Especially the lyrics,
And still these voices are calling from far away
Wake me up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say...
In Normandy, she told me her favorite song was Hotel California.

The other time is when I visit her gravesite very year. She told me that the song she wants to be remembered by is “You Are My Sunshine”. So every year, when I go to her gravesite, I sing it to her.
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey
You never know dear
How much I love you
Please don’t take
My sunshine away

The other night, dear
As I lay sleeping
I dreamt I held you
In my arms
When I awoke dear
I was mistaken

So I hung my head
And cried...


THE END