The Watchtower Affair: Now You See It, Now You Don't
Bridgette's Diary
13 February, 1925
We are in
Chicago. I am writing this from some lab at a university while some of my experiments
are processing. This time I am trying to create a potent explosive. Here is
hoping I don’t blow the place up around us. (I also thin, Diary, that I need my
own lab. Something portable so Walter Smith doesn’t always need to arrange
space for me in strange places.)
To catch up the narrative, everything
was fairly calm until we were close to Chicago. Not too far from the city,
Billy Wilde takes it into his head to attack Mr. Smith with what appeared to be
a sword composed of concentrated light. Considering the two of them appear to
have a good working relationship, this came as a bit of a surprise. Mr. Wilde
appeared to be under the control of some outside force. His expression had gone
slack and while there was a determined glint in his eyes, it did not appear to
be the man before us who was in control. Springing into action, Mr. Long
managed to land a blow upon Mr. Wilde that shook him out of whatever trance he
was in, although not before his sword cut a gash in the roof of the place. (I’m
not sure how the sword functioned, but it did not seem at all frightening until
I saw the gash appear. The blade of light cut through the metal skin of the
plane’s roof like it was warm butter.)
Mr. Smith
was next for whatever mind control games were happening. The same blank look
came over his face as all expression went slack. Pulling his big gun out, he
headed for the cockpit, where Belle sat flying the plane. Since the door
between the pilot’s area and our area was closed, she had no idea of the danger
now heading her direction.
Once again,
Mr. Long was on the mark and managed to land a compelling kick to Mr. Smith’s solar
plexus. This enabled him to shake off whatever seemed to be controlling his
actions. Whatever was manipulating us then jumped to take control of Mr. Long,
perhaps because he had managed to defeat it twice already. He struggled with
the door of the cockpit. Grabbing a rather large wrench from nearby, I actually
managed to land a glancing blow to the side of his head – just as he managed to
pull the door open. Fortunately, the blow was enough for Mr. Long to shake
himself out of his trance. Unfortunately, the next target was Belle herself. We
discovered the new danger almost immediately as the plane entered into a very
steep dive.
I managed
to make it back to my seat and held on for dear life. Kiera was already
clutching hers for dear life. Mr. Long, being a bit more foolhardy than I,
jumped into the co-pilot’s seat and struggled to get control of the plane. It
was either Mr. Smith or Mr. Long who managed to hit Belle hard enough for her
to regain control of her thoughts and actions. By this point the plane was frighteningly
close to the ground, but Belle managed to pull us out of an almost certain
impact, regaining control once more and heading us into the final bit to
Chicago.
We were all
jumpy and on alert for any further attempts to control the minds of our fellow
travelers. Fortunately, nothing more untoward happened during the final few
minutes, other than Mr. Smith muttering something about tin foil hats. Apparently
he believes they can protect one from having their thoughts influenced by
outside sources. Belle did decide to show off a bit as we crossed the city
proper enroute to the landing field. Apparently she couldn’t resist
“barnstorming” downtown. Fortunately, my stomach was able to resist
the affects such maneuvers had upon it. And I’m most certain that I am not the
only one truly grateful to be upon Terra Firma once again. I believe Keira joined
me in kissing the ground. Even the gentlemen seem relieved to be taking deep
breaths of fresh air once again.
After
getting our bearings, and stomachs, under control once more, we all pile into a
rather large auto and set off for Mr. Rasicci’s office, not too far from the
heart of Chicago. I am grateful that it was an uneventful ride. I’m not sure I
could have handled more excitement, such as what we had on the plane.
What is going on in Chicago? Find out more next week in the next thrilling installment of The Watchtower Affair....
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