Timeslingers:

The Online Time Travel Adventure Series

Operation Yamato. A bold step forward for XLS Phase Travel Operations. Complex, detailed, and ambitious—a strike at the heart of the Union’s future infrastructure…

Buzz. Garbled voices. Static.

…and it was starting with a communication issue. Kline tapped the side of his datapad. It had been eighteen hours since his last contact with command. He’d heard nothing since.

“You sure about this?” asked the young man. Disheveled clothes and unkempt hair, suspicious, and misguided enough to be the perfect prey, he was the first cog in the XLS’s fast-growing machine.

He eyed the bolt-action rifle Kline removed from his briefcase.

“The future needs to change,” said Kline. “After today, you’ll be a hero.”

Kline moved to the window. Anxious onlookers lined the streets below. Excitement coursed through the city streets. He didn’t have much time. The motorcade was close.

Still no response from command. The datapad’s transmission strength was spotty and unreliable, which reaffirmed that his concern was valid. Disrupted transmission strength could mean any number of problems, including molecular teleportation complications. If that were true, Kline was stuck in Dallas.

Outside, the murmur of the crowd grew louder.

Kline pushed the rifle toward the young man. “Load it. Take your position.”

A former Marine, the young man handled the rifle like a trained marksman. The XLS’s background checks, psychological modeling, and brain pattern research had netted a perfect subject. Kline had spent the last three days feeding his paranoia. He was ready.

Kline engaged the datapad, “Command, do you copy?!”

Static.

The hair on the back of Kline’s neck bristled. He listened. Nothing but the beat of his own heart. And then…his datapad buzzed:

“Mission compromised! Union agents on approach. Abort!”

The young man took a knee at the window and waited for Kline’s order. Faint thuds could be heard coming from the stairwell. Kline grimaced. He couldn’t stop now.

“Eliminate the mark!” Kline commanded.

He bolted to the front door and yanked it open. The footfalls on the nearby staircase grew louder. His datapad showed no signs of incoming heat signatures. Subdivision timeslingers had found him.