Chapter Five

Gabby looked at the formidable man standing across the small balcony from her. He was truly beautiful in his fury. And, there was no doubt he was angry. He stood with his arms crossed over his wide chest. Even the elegant suit he wore couldn’t disguise the muscular build beneath it. His blond hair was a bit shaggy and looked wind blown, a style other men probably spent a lot of time trying to achieve, and he probably just ran his fingers through it. His blue eyes were intense and almost glacial, his jaw tense. She’d seen that look many times in the five years she’d worked for him, but never had it been directed at her. She had seen grown men, powerful men, all quake at that look. She probably should be rapidly developing diarrhea of the mouth and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear.

She didn’t.

Instead, she calmly stared him down. If she let him intimidate her now, it would set a precedent for the remainder of their working relationship. He would continually turn that glare on her and try to get what he wanted. He would display his temper and expect her to quake in her shoes, but she was a competent agent. She was very good at what she did.

Besides, she could easily kick his ass.

“Sir, this is not something that I can just blurt out.” She tried to be diplomatic. He was her boss after all.

He took one menacing step toward her. “You better start blurting something out.”

Her lips compressed into a tight line. He reached out with one hand, probably trying to grab her arm. In the blink of an eye, she had his arm twisted around behind his back and upward toward his shoulder, all by just using pressure on his thumb. She hissed over his shoulder, “Sir, it might be wise to remember that I am a government agent, and that given the right provocation I could easily kick your ass.”

Mentally, she brushed of this severe breach in protocol. After all, she was supposed to protect him, not abuse him.

But, fuck it. He wouldn’t be her boss for another twenty-six years.

Gently, she released him, taking a step back toward the railing, and taking on an air of total detachment, acting as if the previous seconds hadn’t happened at all. To his credit, he did the same, even managing to somehow maintain a certain air of grace and dignity, while he tugged gently in all the right places to straighten his suit jacket.

Without thinking, Gabby stepped behind him and smoothed her hands across wide shoulders, gliding them down his back to tug gently at the hem of the jacket to straighten it. “There, all neat and straight again, Sir.”

Every muscle in his body had tensed at her actions. His body had instantly reacted to the smooth glide of her hands down his body. He bit back a groan. Damn. What would it be like to have those hands elsewhere. He realized that for her it was a familiar action, as if she’d done it many times before.

“Sir,” she began, as she stepped back around to face him.

“Please call me Jon,” he interrupted her.

“Sorry. Habit,” she explained. “Besides, you’re my boss, and well...” she paused.

“Your boss?” he was genuinely surprised. He didn’t remember hiring this woman, and he knew all of his employees by name and face.

“Well, not for another twenty-six years anyway,” she said vaguely.

“What?” Jon was now sure the woman was out of her mind, and the look on his face told her so.

“Okay, listen closely to me, Sir.” She decided it would be better to just rip the band aid off and get it over with. “I’m from the future. The year 2029 to be precise.”

“Riiiight,” Jon said, drawing out the word and looking over her shoulder for someone to come and rescue him from the lunatic.

“In the future, I’m the head of your security detail,” she continued as if he wasn’t looking for the nearest straight jacket.

Jon’s eyes snapped back to her face. “In the future I need a ‘security detail’?”

“Yes. In the year 2029, you Sir, are the President of the United States.”

He started laughing then. Throwing his head back and really letting loose. He laughed until his eyes were starting to tear up. This had to be something Joker had come up with. “Really?” he finally managed to get out between barks of laughter. “And who’s my Vice President? Sambora?”

She had expected him to have a certain amount of suspicion, but she hadn’t been expecting downright disbelief. After all, his older self had assured her that the necklace would speak for her. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “No, he’s dead.”

Jon sobered instantly at her words. Just the thought of Richie dead, had that effect on him. “What? Then how did you get his necklace?”

“You gave it to me. In my future, you wore it around your neck everyday that I knew you.”

They were interrupted then by Al, who had been looking for Jon. When the former Vice President stepped out onto the balcony, his eyes immediately went to Jon. “Jon, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Jon leaned toward Gabriella. “We’ll finish this discussion later,” he said very softly. Then turned to his friend. “Sorry, Al. This beautiful woman had me just a little distracted.”

“Understandable,” Al said with a smile at the lady in question. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

Jon remembered his manners and introduced the two of them, but all the while his mind was whirling. What the fuck? Even Joker’s sense of humor wasn’t so sick as to kill off Richie, even in jest.

Chapter Four

When he raised his hand to knock on the door, it occurred to him that although she’d said she had ‘creds’, she hadn’t shown them to him. Instead of knocking, he turned to her. “So,” he began, “those ‘creds’ you mentioned? You wouldn’t happen to have them in that tiny little purse, would ya?”

She smiled patiently at him. “I wondered how long it was going to take you, Sir. Normally, you’re a lot quicker on the uptake than that.”

While she reached in her little purse, he wondered at her words. Why did she keep talking like they knew each other? He was fairly certain he’d never met her. He’d remember a looker like her.

There was nothing bashful about the way she handed over her credentials for him to have a closer look. He frowned with concentration while he read the details on her identification.

“Special Agent in Charge, Gabriella Prince?” He grinned boyishly at her. “And what, exactly, are you in charge of?”

Without blinking, she answered. “You.”

“Me?” he asked, taken aback. Had someone in the chain of command decided he needed to be watched? That would put a serious crimp in his ability to socialize with the higher ups in the Democratic Party. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.” She paused for effect. “Yet.”

“What the...”

She interrupted him. “All in good time, Sir. The first cigarette break. I promise.”

As bad as it irritated him to wait for his answers, he nodded curtly and knocked on the door.

It was an hour later before Jon was able to sneak away for a cigarette. Gabriella had been the perfect date so far. She’d been gracious and had smiled until he was positive her cheeks had to hurt. She had cautioned him to just introduce her as Gabriella Prince, not to tell people that she was an agent. Jon had enough sense to know that meant she was undercover, but undercover doing what was what he was dying to know.

When they first stepped out onto the balcony of Al’s suite, they weren’t alone. So, he chewed the inside of his cheek while they made small talk with one of Al’s other guests. When the man finally went back inside, Jon turned to her and said, “Okay, now spill.”

“It’s really not that easy, Sir.” She looked inside the door to make sure no one was standing within hearing range. “First, I was instructed to give you something.” She began to dig around in her small purse. “I was told that you would recognize it anywhere.”

He waited patiently, until she pulled a chain out of her purse, the pendant clutched tightly in her palm. He realized she was a little reluctant to hand it over. “Is there something wrong?”

“The person who gave me this told me it was one of his most prized possessions. He knew he’d never get it back when he sent it with me to give to you, and it seems strange to give it up now.”

He held his hand out to her palm up. “I’ll be more than happy to put it back in your care then, once I see it.”

Gabriella doubted that, very seriously, and told him so. He scoffed at her, and she reached out to put the necklace in his palm, hoping to make him choke on that scoff. He didn’t even blink as he looked at a Slippery When Wet pendant in his hand. “Why would this mean anything to me? You can buy these from the fan website now.”

“Not like that one, you can’t,” she assured him. “The inscription on the back is apparently the important part.”

Jon frowned at her. Only someone inside the inner circle knew about the inscriptions on the back of the pendants. He flipped it over and sucked in a huge breath. In small print, there it was: #1. “How the fuck did you get this?” Not too many people knew the pendants were numbered, and most of the ones that knew didn’t know who had been given what number. Jon knew without a doubt he held Richie’s pendant in his hand. “You wait right there,” he ordered, pointing one long finger at her, even as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. What the fuck was Richie trying to pull?

He hit the speed dial button to call his friend. And, as soon as Richie answered, Jon barked into the phone, “Where is your pendant?”

“Hi, Rich. Did I interrupt anything, Rich?”

“Fuck you, asshole,” Jon growled. “I’m not falling for whatever you’re trying to put over on me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Kidd?”

Jon could hear it in Richie’s voice; he had no idea what Jon was talking about. “Where’s your pendant?” Jon asked, slightly calmer this time.

Richie reached up and fingered the pendant that hung in the hollow of his throat. “It’s around my neck, man. Why?”

“You sure? You’re not fucking with me, right?” Jon asked. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Gabriella the whole time he’d been talking on his cell phone. She stood leaning slightly against the railing of the balcony, with a look of boredom on her lovely face. It was as if she was simply waiting on him to draw the only obvious conclusion. And yet, he had no fucking clue what that ‘obvious conclusion’ was.

Absently, he rubbed his thumb across the two little indentions in the back of the pendant. They were right at the bottom one on either side of the ‘v’ that made up the bottom of the diamond shape. His mind flashed back to a night ten years earlier. It was during the Keep the Faith tour. He’d been in his hotel room, about to go to bed, when he’d heard Richie’s voice raised out in the hall.

He’d stuck his head out his own door only to start laughing at the sight in the hall. A very tall red head had her arms around Richie’s neck in a death grip, while Rich tried to push her away with both hands. Jon realized the woman had Richie’s pendant in her mouth, obviously biting down on it for all she was worth.

Richie rolled his eyes at Jon’s laughter. “A little help would be appreciated,” he’d called out sarcastically.

“Oh, c’mon, Rich,” Jon said between barks of laughter. “Give her a night she’ll never forget.” He had stepped out into the hallway then to get a better view of the action.

“I’d rather not lay a hand on HIM,” Richie barked back, stressing the last word.

That’s when Jon realized the she in question had an Adam’s apple. Jon fell back against the wall, holding his stomach as he began to laugh even harder.

“Hardy har har,” Richie growled in frustration, still trying to push the red head away, and dodge greedy grasping hands at the same time.

Jon was finally able to bite back his laughter long enough to pull on the guy’s shoulder. “Let ‘im go, buddy. Can’t you see he’s not interested?”

The guy spun around and punched Jon, knocking him back against the wall. Richie used the space provided to throw a punch of his own. Jon stood holding his nose and glaring down at ‘her’. Richie just turned to unlock the door to his room.

“You gonna call housekeeping, or am I?” Jon’s voice was muffled by his hands.

“I’m not calling anybody. Do you really wanna admit that you got hit by ‘a girl’?” Richie teased as he walked through his door.

“Do you really wanna admit that you were almost raped by a guy?” he’d responded.

“No.” Richie leaned back out his door. “To the grave?”

“To the grave,” he’d nodded in agreement as he closed his own door.

To this day the words ‘That red head in Denver’ would bring a smile to both of their faces, but they’d never told a soul.

Now, he flipped the pendant over and found the corresponding marks in the front of the pendant. Said red head had been gap-toothed, and you could still tell by the teeth impressions in the pendant. There was no doubt this was Richie’s pendant.

Richie’s voice in his ear pulled him back to the present. “Why would I lie to you, Kidd? My necklace is around my neck.”

“You’re sure it’s YOUR necklace?” Jon asked.

Richie rubbed his finger and thumb across the bottom point of the pendant. “Yeah, the red head in Denver’s teeth marks are still there.”

“I’ll call ya back, Rich,” Jon said as he disconnected the call. He leveled an icy blue gaze on Gabriella. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“Sir, that requires a very elaborate explanation.”

“Then you better start fucking elaborating.”

Chapter Three

August 22, 2003


That email had been on Jon’s mind all damn day. He still wasn’t sure who had sent it, and to be honest, he’d half-decided it was some sort of practical joke that Sambo, Joker, or even Obie had put into motion.

The little niggling sense of doubt was using the fact that none of them knew about the impending divorce until he’d told Rich as proof that it was no joke. And, it was all over the news that the plane that Rich should’ve been on earlier had crash landed due to unexplained engine trouble only two hours after take off. There had been minor to major injuries, even two deaths in first class...where Rich would’ve been sitting. Had that been why he’d been told to get Rich to cancel his flight? If so, how had the email sender known? It was all very weird!

Jon tried to shrug it all off so that he could enjoy this opportunity to have dinner with his friend. Al was only going to be in town tonight, and had invited Jon to join him and his wife in their hotel suite for a private dinner. There were only a few select close friends invited for the evening, and Jon felt honored to be among them.

Stepping off the elevator, he followed the signs that directed him toward suite number 1143. Just before he knocked on the door, the words from the email flashed through his mind. Furtively, he glanced up and down the hallway to make sure no one was around, then checked his fly.

He sucked in ten lungfuls of air even as he zipped up his pants. What the fuck? How had they known? This had just went eons farther than just plain ol’ everyday weird. Quickly, he dug his PDA out of his jacket pocket. He had been just anal enough to save the phone number from the email. Thank God for his type-A personality!

Without even blinking, he stepped away from the door, moving closer to the elevators, and dialed the number on his cell. He heard a cell phone ringing somewhere not too far away, even as it rang in his ear.

A husky feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello, Sir.”

He felt absolutely ridiculous when he asked, “Kryptonite?”

“Yes, Sir.” There was just the slightest of pauses. “That would be me.”

Jon heard the voice in the hallway with him, not just on the phone, and looked up to see a beautiful woman dressed in a beautiful teal blue cocktail dress. She waved at him as she made a big show of closing up her own cell phone. Her light brown hair hung in waves down around her shoulders; he could see the red highlights even in the florescent lighting in the hallway. With four inch heels on her tiny little feet, she was almost as tall as him, but she was tiny with an athletic build. The halter neck of the dress showed off the muscle definition in her arms, and the short skirt showed off tight calves and thighs.

In fact, had he not been so damn curious about how she knew what she knew, he’d be completely taken with that view.

Who was he kidding? He was totally taken with the view.

Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“That’s okay, Sir. I’ll take you through it step by step, just like always.” Her voice was patient and sure. Hell, she even sounded like they’d had this conversation a million times. “But first, let’s go in to dinner with Mr. Gore.”

That took him completely by surprise. “Uh,” he stumbled over his words, “you can’t go in there with me. Security stuff. I didn’t tell them I was bringing a date.”

“Don’t worry, Sir. I flashed my creds earlier and told them I’d be your date. I’ve got this under control.”

Why did he feel like they’d had this conversation before? “You are going to explain this all to me at some point, right?” He was trying to stay suspicious, but she seemed like she knew him so well, and she looked so damn good.

“Yes, Sir.” She held up her hand in the typical girl scout salute. “I promise. The first time you sneak away for a cigarette, I’ll fill you in.”

Jon took a deep breath, and offered her the crook of his arm, then smiled at how well her little hand fit there. What the fuck was going on?

Chapter Two

August 19, 2029
T minus 18 hours

The paper in front of him awaited his signature. He could almost laugh at the absurdity of it. How many times had he signed his name in his sixty-seven years? At least now, he signed the legal version of it.

A tentative knock on the door made him look up, but he was expecting her. “Come in, Kryptonite,” he called softly. He smiled when her face appeared through the barely opened door. Gabriella Prince had been with him for five years now, since his inauguration. She’d been hand picked for his security team and quickly worked her way up the ranks. Now, she was the Special Agent in Charge of, well, him.

She looked so professional in her dark slacks and buttoned up suit jacket. Her dark shoes had very little heel to them, and he knew that was so that she could move quickly. He always got a secret little smile seeing her all buttoned down like this, because he knew what she was really like. They’d had many conversations over the years that she’d been with him. At first, he’d been surprised to find out that under that business suit and tidy little bun beat the heart of a rebel. She’d only shown him that side when they were alone. There was a certain amount of familiarity about their relationship that he knew wouldn’t be acceptable to her superiors. And, honestly, he didn’t care.

When he’d met her, there had been something familiar about her. He’d had no trouble trusting her. At first, he’d thought it was just that she reminded him so much of his daughter. They were the same age, but he soon learned that Gabriella wasn’t anything like Stephanie. He had actually been the one to give her the code name Kryptonite. He was pretty sure that she didn’t get the joke behind it, but the first time Davey had heard him call her that, his old friend had burst into laughter. Yeah, he was more than attracted to her, but he was an old man now. And, she was young enough to be his daughter.

He realized that he’d never seen her wear her hair down. It was always up in a serviceable ponytail or tidy bun. He didn’t even know how long it really was. For just an instant, he felt a pang of jealousy toward his past self. That man would get to see her hair down at some point. He was sure of it. That younger version of himself that was far too arrogant for his own good, and so sure of his sexual prowess. That younger version of himself wouldn’t have the guilt of chasing after a woman young enough to be his daughter or worries of ruining her career to stop him from doing his damnedest to seduce her. And, even at his age he still had enough arrogance in him to believe that the younger Jon would get the job done.

Gabriella smiled at him. At 67, he was still a handsome man. His light blue eyes still twinkled with merriment, and his smile could rival the sun. He still had a commanding presence, and seemed to take up all the space in a room, even at only 5' 10" with a small but muscular frame. His hair was no longer brown, but a beautiful silver and kept in a well trimmed but windswept style. “You wanted to see me, Sir?”

“Have a seat, Gabbs,” he told her, motioning toward the chair on the other side of his desk. He waited while she got comfortable, shifting slightly in the chair and crossing her legs. “I wanted to talk to you about this mission.”

“I kinda figured,” she nodded.

He smiled at her soft Texas drawl. “Since we have no way of knowing the exact day that you will be arriving in the past, I wanted to give you some important dates and other information that will help you get his attention.” She nodded, and he went on to list several key events and when they happened so that she could use them as needed. He watched her intently as she committed every word he said to memory. She never needed to take notes. The guys under her command teased her about being a walking computer chip. In fact, her nickname with them was ‘Chip’.

Finally, he stared silently at her for several long seconds before saying softly, “There’s also a few things you should know about him.”

“Sir?”

“He’s arrogant, a big flirt, and honestly believes that given enough time and a big enough smile he can charm any woman into his bed, if he wants. And, you are just the type he’s attracted too.”

“Sir?” she began again. “You talk about ‘him’ like he’s another person.”

“In many ways, Gabbs, he is. Richie’s death changed a lot of things about him, uh, me. I had no desire to get into politics, would’ve been completely happy to continue singing to the masses and writing songs that the critics condemned. That is until I lost my writing partner and best friend. It just didn’t have the same appeal after that.”

“I understand, Sir.” She was surprised; he’d never talked to her about the loss of his best friend. In fact, any time someone mentioned the man’s name, he would smile sadly then change the subject. She wished that she could save his friend for him as well. That had been something that he had wanted to accomplish with this mission, but after a lengthy explanation about altering their current time line and how one small thing could change everything, he’d nodded and let the subject go.

If she had known him in his younger days, she would’ve recognized the stubborn tilt of his chin that indicated he’d get what he wanted whether it was the ‘right’ thing for him or not., and would’ve been suspect of some of the events and facts that he had given her.

Now, he reached up and unclasped the chain around his neck. He hadn’t taken the necklace off in years. Not since a young girl had given it to him with tears in her eyes saying, ‘You should have this, Uncle Jon.’

He stood up from his chair and walked around the large, impressive desk. “I’m going to trust you with one of my most cherished possessions, Gabbs,” he told her softly, just as he reached her chair.

“You don’t have to do that, Sir.” She looked up at him with questioning eyes.

“You’ll need it to prove to him who you are.” He reached out with his right hand, and when her small hand was open under his, he gently dropped the necklace into her palm. “Once he sees that, he’ll believe you. Trust me.”

Gabriella looked down at the necklace in her hand. The pendant was diamond shaped with a double S logo. Silver, or perhaps platinum, it was warm in her hand. There didn’t seem to be anything really special about the piece of jewelry in her hand, but his tone and manner spoke volumes about the importance of this small piece of metal. She flipped the pendant over in her hand and silently read the inscription.

“He’ll recognize this?” she asked, doubt filling her eyes.

“Oh yeah, he’d know it anywhere.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He frowned at her. She sat holding the necklace in her hand, staring at it like he’d just handed her a bomb, and she was watching the timer tick down. “What’s wrong, Gabbs?”

Looking up at him, she smiled sadly. “It’s already been established that this is a one way trip for me, Sir. I hate to take something that means so much to you with me.”

The previous owner had meant more to him than the cold piece of metal. And, if all went as he’d planned, the necklace wouldn’t ever come into his possession anyway. A life cut short before its time had put that piece of jewelry around his neck, and he was determined to correct that wrong. “It’ll be all right,” he assured her, patting her shoulder gently. “For your mission to be successful, he needs to believe and trust you. That will accomplish those two things better than anything else. Here, let me help you put it on.”

He moved to stand behind her chair, taking each end of the chain into his hands as she held her long ponytail up out of the way. When the tips of his fingers brushed the back of her neck, Gabriella couldn’t stop the delicate shiver that raced down her spine. Mentally, she chastised herself. He was old enough to be her father.

But, she couldn’t deny the wanton sex appeal that still oozed from his every pore.

Gabriella believed in being fully informed about any mission, and this one wasn’t any different. She’d done her research and knew all about the man she was going back to save. She had watched old footage of him on stage and had been in awe of the way he held an audience in the palm of his hand. She’d looked at old photos of him and knew just how handsome he’d been in his prime. Gabby had been unable to resist digging up pictures of him in his twenties too, even though they were from way before she would actually meet him.

He’d been hotter than her grandma’s homemade salsa. And probably tasted better too.

“You should probably try and get some sleep, Gabbs,” he told her in gentle dismissal. “We don’t know what you’ll actually encounter in,” he glanced at his watch, “a little more than 17 hours.”

Gabriella stood up slowly, sweeping her hands down her thighs to smooth the wrinkles out of her khakis. “Yes, sir.”


August 20, 2003

Most Americans aren’t even aware of the intricate details of their National Security forces. Gabby thought it was probably for the best. She’d arrived in this time several hours ago feeling woozy and slightly nauseous. In her time, they had moved the confiscated time machine to a secure facility just outside the beltway. What had appeared to be just an average looking barn beside an unsuspecting farm house in 2029, was in this time, a big field with several tall oak trees doting it here and there. She’d ‘landed’ on wobbly legs next to one of those large trees and been able to lean against it while she’d taken several deep breaths and soon could stand on her own again.

She’d walked for about a mile before she’d been picked up by a passing UPS driver. She had told him some cock and bull story about her car breaking down and gotten him to give her a lift to the nearest service station, that just happened to be a hell of a lot closer to her destination.


Her first priority had been to get some computer time and thus acquire money and a weapon. It had been decided that it would not be wise to bring a weapon from her time here. It would be very hard for her to explain if she was questioned by authorities. Besides, obtaining ammo would've been impossible. She’d had to wait until the closest library opened but then she’d been able to slip in and use a computer. For decades, there had been an emergency ‘backdoor’ in the government computer system. Gabriella used it to get in and make sure her credentials made her legit for this time. Then she accessed the special bank account used by undercover government agents, whether they were FBI, CIA, NCIS or Secret Service, transferring money to an account she set up for her personally.

Now, her identification naming her as Secret Service Special Agent in Charge Gabriella Prince would get her in any where she needed to be to protect her charge, The Future President of the United States. She also had money for food and shelter while she observed said charge. With $10,000 in the bank, she was able to go to the closest branch and withdraw enough to get her transportation to New York City. She had two days to kill before she could make first contact with him. Two days before the first of the intel he had given her could be used.

Chapter One

August 22, 2003

He sat staring at the computer screen in front of him. Who in the hell sent this? The email address was completely foreign to him, and yet whoever sent this seemed to be very knowledgeable about him.

From: Kryptonite@gmail.com
To: papabear@bjm.com

Sir, Before I give you any information, I have been told that I will first need to get your undivided attention. I have been advised that the best way to begin that process is to give you the following information:

1) This morning over a breakfast of Fruity Peebles and orange juice, your wife told you that she wanted a divorce. This really didn’t surprise you, because you’ve been wanting the same thing, but you were holding on for the kids. You told her that you would call your attorney and get the ball rolling. By New Jersey state law, you must be living apart for 18 months before filing. However, you told the attorney a lie. You assured him that you had been living in the New York apartment for at least that long already, if you included the time spent on the road with your tour. When in fact, you’ve just been sleeping on the couch in The Shoe Inn. That is... WHEN you sleep.

2) In approximately two hours, Richie is supposed to get on an airplane. Call him. Tell him you need him to stay in town. You’ll need him tomorrow.

3) To avoid “the most embarrassing moment” of your life and being hung with the nickname ‘Peep Show’, tonight, before going into dinner with former Vice President Gore...Check your fly.

Now, I was assured that after having given you all of this information, that I will still not have your undivided attention, but that I will at least have peaked your curiosity. I hope my informant was as knowledgeable about you as he thinks, and that you will at least pick up that cell that is even now laying by your left hand, and call Rich.

Then, tonight, when I have your undivided attention, call this number 202-555-2035. Because, Mr. Bongiovi, your life is in danger.

Kryptonite



He looked over at his cell phone, laying just inches from his left hand. How the fuck had this person known this information? Suspiciously, he glanced around his office, then stood up to stride across the room and look out the window. Was he being watched?

Not even Richie knew about Dot’s breakfast announcement. He was going to tell him tomorrow. By phone. Once he was back in LA.

As he dialed Richie’s cell, he was quickly trying to come up with an excuse to get his friend to stay in New York.

“Hey Kidd,” Richie answered, “I’m on my way to the airport. What’s up?”

“I need you to change your flight. I think I’m gonna need ya tomorrow.”

Richie could hear the confusion and indecision in Jon’s voice. “Is everything okay, man?”

“No, Rich.” That’s when inspiration struck, now was as good a time as any. “Dot told me she wants a divorce.”

“Ah, fuck, man. I’m sorry.” Richie tried to sound sympathetic, but he’d seen the signs. Jon hadn’t been happy, but had been trying to keep it under wraps. Richie had suspected this was coming several weeks ago. “I’ll call and change flights, bro. Call me later.”

“Sure, Rich. Thanks.”

His voice was toneless and unemotional, even he heard it. Maybe, he was shell shocked. Maybe, that horseshoe in his ass had finally rusted, and his luck had finally run out. And maybe, just maybe, his life really was in danger.


August 20, 2029
0200 Tango

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” he asked her for the thousandth time.

“Yes sir, Mr. President. I’m not willing to ask one of my men to do something I’m not willing to do myself.”

She looked so confident. Her long light brown hair was pulled back into a serviceable pony tail, that hung in waves down her back She’d worn comfortable denim jeans that looked vintage and a body hugging light green t-shirt that had her looking like she’d just stepped out of 2003. There were white high top Converse sneakers with lime green laces on her feet. She was the same age as his daughter, and he had no desire to send her on this mission.

Two days ago, they’d received intel that there was going to be an attempt on his life. When a combined force of Secret Service and FBI agents raided the hide-out of the suspected assassin, they’d found what could only be a time machine and a mad scientist right out of a comic strip. They’d went over every inch of that lab with a fine tooth comb. It had been determined that someone had managed to go back in time about twenty-six years, give or take a few months. Dr. Crazy had repeatedly told them that it was too late, that the plan was already in motion.

The President still wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. All the information they’d been able to gather in the last 48 hours indicated this would be a one way trip. He couldn’t in good conscience send her on what would amount to a suicide mission.

“Kryptonite, you know you can’t come home. Are you sure?”

“Sir, I have no family. No children, no husband. No one is waiting for me to come home. Damn, even my dog died last month. I can do this. I have all the intel I need.”

He looked around at the faces gathered around the two of them. They were all members of his security team, and had all wanted to be here to say goodbye to her. He grasped the upper part of her arm, and gently but firmly pulled her several steps away from the group.

“Gabbs, I’m not happy about this,” his voice was rough and gravelly with emotion. He was quite fond of her.

She smiled up at him, her pale green/gray eyes twinkled. “Honest, I’ll be fine, President Bongiovi.”

She repeated those words again, before she stepped into the large metal ball. Quickly, a few members of his security team lead him out of the room. He had argued long and hard to be able to be there to send her off. They had agreed only if he caved and agreed that he would leave the premises for safety’s sake before they actually activated the unproven technology.

As soon as the radio crackled that POTUS was ‘safely away', their tech guy was given the signal. The engines seemed to shift into a higher speed, their whine filling the room until a loud boom bounced off the walls and literally knocked them all to the floor with the force of the wave.

Steam rose from the metal sphere as several of the men ran toward it. When they opened the little hatch type door and checked inside, she was gone.