Remember this fic? Yeah, I know it's been months. I'm still not finished with it, but these next two chapters have been done for about 2 months and while I've slowly been working on the conclusion (because Stranded and Once Upon a Highway has taken precedence) I'm hoping that if I just go ahead and start publishing what I have done will motivate me to finally finish it out for you.
This fic is going to get a little complex (it's one of the reasons it has taken me so long...I dread writing all of the twists and turns out) but I hope it will be enjoyable for you. We're right at the end and depending how long the narrative gets I don't expect more than three more chapters of this.

That said, I hope you enjoy this update! Happy Reading!

Finding horses wasn't a difficult task, given the era. As Lucy had stated, the Low Country, known for its marshes and swamp like conditions, had been largely abandoned. The war and the added threat of disease had moved people away from their rustic lodgings and into the cities where news, supplies and medical care were more readily available. Only the larger plantation homes and farms seemed to stand defiantly against the inevitable wave of destruction that was slowly but surely mounting against them. Tonight, if all went as it was supposed to, those few remaining would be swept away by the devastating actions of about 300 men who knew what it was to be subjugated by a field hand's whip.

The horses saddled and prepared, Wyatt held onto the reins as Lucy mounted, her anxiety evident as she lifted a shaky hand to the horn in order to boost herself up onto the steed. She had just finished adjusting herself and her skirts when she reached for the reins and Wyatt's hand closed over hers. "Be careful." he muttered softly, causing her to still in her work and cast a desperate look into his worried face.

"You too." Lucy said with a terse nod as he gave her hand a comforting squeeze. She wished she could promise him that nothing would go wrong, that everything would be okay, but she found her voice was lost somewhere in the confines of her throat. It may have made the most logistical sense to split up, cover more ground…but she couldn't help but notice the nagging voice in her head that told her this was a bad idea. How would they communicate? If something went wrong, how would the other group know? "Wyatt…" she began but Flynn mounted his horse and coughed, causing them both to startle at the sudden intrusion. Turning abruptly in her saddle, Lucy looked towards a waiting Flynn, "You ready?" she asked timidly.

"Following your lead." he responded with a curt nod.

Casting one last look at Wyatt, Lucy steeled up her courage and nodded determinedly, "I'll see you tonight." she uttered quietly before urging her horse forward, not wanting to think about the litany of "what ifs" that were currently parading through her mind. It was only a 20-mile ride to Beaufort, though with the inevitable checkpoints, creek crossings, and the occasional trouble maker on the way, Lucy imagined it would probably take them a little over two hours to get there. The boats weren't supposed to push off until this evening, but given that Rittenhouse was apparently looking to change things, she wasn't going to lull herself into a false sense of security by allowing herself to believe they had plenty of time. The truth of the matter was, they had no idea what they were up to, but if Harriet Tubman was indeed, a target, then they were going to have to cover all their bases…before Rittenhouse had a chance to act.

It was too risky not to.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, so too did the temperature and though she was laden down with layer upon layer on fabric, she knew that her horse was probably feeling the effects doubly. Patting its neck gently as she slowly led it to a small creek for some much-needed rest and refreshment, she took in their surroundings.

Tall grasses and swamps had given way to tall trees and forests, though the swampy conditions remained. The sun was blazing in the bright blue sky and though the canopy of trees above them offered some much-needed shade, they also served to block out any breeze, making the air thick, hot, and oppressive. Lucy let out a heavy sigh as she fanned herself with her hand, casting an uneasy glance towards Flynn whose horse slowed to a stop next to hers. "It's been awfully quiet." she observed in a shaky voice.

"Would you rather have run into a battalion of Confederate soldiers?" Flynn asked glibly as his horse lowered his head for a drink.

"No." came Lucy's quick reply. She knew that she was being silly. She had told Wyatt herself that this area was under Union control and though she knew that the Union forces were focusing their attention on the upcoming raid, the total lack of…anything made her nervous…and not so much for herself and Flynn. "Do you think Wyatt and Rufus will have any problems going to Combahee Ferry?"

"I don't know." Flynn stated with a frown, "I'm afraid you have the advantage here when it comes to this particular period in history."

"Not a fan of the Civil War?"

"I wouldn't say that." Flynn countered. "I followed the bigger battles somewhat…Gettysburg, Bull Run, Shiloh, Vicksburg…but beyond that," Flynn shook his head with a frown, "For American history, I was more interested in the Revolutionary era." The corners of his mouth lifted into a slight grin as he reflected, "Meeting George Washington was probably one of the most amazing things I have ever had the opportunity to do in my life."

Lucy smiled to herself, remembering that harrowing mission. A shaky alliance formed out of desperation that led not only to the death of David Rittenhouse, but also Benedict Arnold and Lord Cornwallis. She had been furious, kicking herself for agreeing to team up with Flynn in the first place, an alliance she had only agreed to because…

"So, what you're saying is that you would never have killed George Washington?" she asked him with a quirked brow.

"I killed Lincoln." Flynn said with a shrug, "but yes, Washington would have been a tough one…even for me." he admitted with a smirk. "I think you forget how desperate I was back then…"

"Back then? You aren't now?" Lucy asked in surprise, "I thought you were still determined to get your family back?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Flynn worked his jaw, clearly thinking carefully over his next words. When he finally did speak, his voice was quiet, subdued, almost reverent, "I think you and I both know I will never get them back, not in this lifetime, anyway."

"Don't say that Flynn." Lucy pleaded seriously, "I gave you that journal for a reason…you said yourself that it was the key to saving them."

"I thought it was….at one time." Flynn agreed with a frown, "but maybe I was wrong about that…maybe I was wrong about a lot of things."

Recalling that she had lobbed that accusation at Flynn in 1892, Lucy cast him a wary glance, "So, we weren't supposed to be 'quite the team one day'? That was just something you made up so I'd help you?"

"I didn't say that." Flynn said with a slight chuckle, "Though you are nothing like the Lucy who wrote the journal…she was…"

"Impressive. I know," she said with an eye roll, "you've told me." Lucy pursed her lips in thought as she urged her horse onward once more, their pace slowing considerably as they made their way through the thick underbrush of the forest. Frowning slightly, she turned to Flynn, "I can't tell whether that's a compliment or a criticism."

"Does it have to be a compliment or a criticism?" Flynn asked plainly, "I was merely making an observation…that this version of you is not nearly as ruthless as the version I came to know in the journal." Flynn shook his head, "While I think it would be impressive seeing you fight against Rittenhouse with the intensity some other version of yourself possessed, I have to say…"

"What?" Lucy asked when Flynn failed to continue his train of thought after a few moments.

Flynn shook his head, attempting to ward off any further discussion, reminding Lucy that they were on a mission and therefore, should remain focused on the task at hand, but Lucy, seeing no immediate danger before them, and far too interested in what Flynn's assessment of her in the flesh was as in compared to the one he had merely read about, continued to press him until with some hesitancy he admitted, "The truth is Lucy, I greatly admire you. Rittenhouse has done everything in their power to hurt you and yet, you never seem to be affected. You've been able to resist their offers of money, power…legacy," he added with a meaningful nod, "you never let what they do change who you are…not like it changed me."

"I don't know about that." Lucy muttered quietly after a long while. "I killed a man, you know? To prove my loyalty." She looked off into the distance as she admitted sorely, "He begged me not to do it…but I just looked at him and said "I'm sorry" and pulled the trigger." Flynn looked at her in surprise as she explained, "I wasn't supposed to leave that mission alive…I was going to end it all then…no more Mothership, no more time travel…no more legacy."

"What made you change your mind?" Flynn asked softly.

Lucy let out a watery chuckle, "Wyatt." Flynn raised his eyebrows in sudden understanding as Lucy continued, "They told me he was dead," she let out a derisive laugh, "but he wasn't. He came to find me in 1918. There I was, grenade in hand…planning to blow up the Mothership and my mother and myself with it…and suddenly, he was there…and…well, I couldn't go through with it after that."

The rode on in silence for a while before Flynn observed, "You know…when my wife and daughter died…I wanted to die too. My entire world had ended." He cast a sideways glance towards Lucy as he continued, "you were the one who gave me a reason to live on…to fight."

"Because of my journal?" she asked.

Flynn nodded, "It gave me hope…and I had been without hope for so long…so I guess, what I want to say is…thank you…for giving me a purpose again."

"And what purpose is that?"

"To rid the world of Rittenhouse." he said determinedly, "present company excluded, of course." he added with a smile.

Lucy couldn't help but smile, but as they rode on her thoughts turned dark again, thinking about that soldier she had murdered in that small French cabin. "I will always wonder if he was supposed to die…" she blurted out suddenly, "or if, my killing him erased the children and grandchildren he was supposed to have." Lucy scoffed as she adjusted the reins in her hands, "I could be solely responsible for the erasure of countless people, because of that one horrible decision." She bit her lip in contemplation before adding, "How does that make me any different than Rittenhouse…or my mother?

"You are nothing like your mother." Flynn assured her again firmly, but at her derisive and disbelieving laugh, Flynn insisted, "No, Lucy. You care about others. I treated you horribly and yet you somehow trust me enough to put your life in my hands," he snapped his fingers dramatically, "just like that."

"Well, I don't know if it was quite so fast…"

"Your mother," Flynn continued, talking over her, "she only sees people as a means to an end." When she came to me in prison, she didn't care about me. She didn't care about my wife or my daughter…or the fact that it was her people who had had them killed. She only wanted to use me…to get to you. To help Rittenhouse win."

"It had to appeal to you somewhat." Lucy muttered thoughtfully as Flynn shifted uncomfortably, "A chance to have your family back? I mean, that's why you stole the time machine to begin with."

"I stole it to rid the world, rid history, of Rittenhouse." Flynn corrected as he sighed and adjusted the reins in his hands, "I hoped that by doing that, it would bring my girls back; that by wiping them out of existence, my family would have never been killed."

Lucy swallowed hard knowing that it was her family that had caused - not just Flynn, but all of them, so much pain. Her mother that had completely turned their lives upside down, driven them to live in secrecy, hiding away in an old government bunker. She thought of Wyatt and how the memory of Jessica was now tainted by this warped version that Rittenhouse had created. She thought of Rufus and how his family had no idea he was even alive. Mason's entire legacy and financial holdings had been completely wiped away…and yet, none of them had ever blamed her. None of them had ever considered that she was the one who had begun all of this…with that journal.

Well, everyone except Flynn.

"I'm…I'm so sorry Flynn. It's…awful what they've done to you…to all of us." She swallowed hard as she muttered, "I know they're my family, but…"

"That's not who you are." Flynn said with a slight frown, "Your propensity to forgive, to see and hope for the best in people…that's what sets you apart." He nodded his head reassuringly, "You might have killed a man Lucy, but you're not a monster."

"Well, for the record…neither are you." Lucy added with a sigh, "Rittenhouse hasn't exactly made things easy for any of us. I think we've all done things we aren't proud of."

Flynn nodded in assent as he frowned pensively. "You didn't kill because you wanted to, Lucy." He said quietly, "I did. I wanted to make them pay for what they had done to my family. I wanted to destroy Rittenhouse…and I didn't care who I had to hurt to see it done…including you."

"Flynn…"

"No, Lucy, I've done some terrible things, I've hurt a lot of people…and it was all for nothing. My family is still dead and Rittenhouse is still changing history."

"Trying to change history." Lucy corrected him with fierce determination. "We're not going to let them win. We can't let them win." She reined in her horse and rounded on him, "You may have hurt people in the past, Flynn…but you're making up for that now. You are no different than me, Rufus, Wyatt…we're all in this together, alright?" She nodded her head determinedly, "We've all been hurt."

Hardly daring to argue with her, Flynn nodded his assent as they pushed forward onto Beaufort. Their ride was uneventful, which Lucy was more than a little grateful for, but as they trotted into the bustling Sea Island town, Lucy couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive. There was a tension in the air, with Union troops bustling here and there, frantically racing through the town and gathering in small groups to have hushed, yet animated conversations. Lucy, of course, knew that they were gearing up for what was to be the Combahee River Raid later that night, but something seemed…off. Looking towards Flynn as they rode through the town towards the Union headquarters near the First Baptist Church, Lucy noted that she wasn't the only one feeling a bit nervous about the uproar in the town; Flynn was looking just as apprehensive as she was.

Dismounting her horse quickly, Lucy approached a Union Lieutenant standing post outside of what she knew to be Colonel Montgomery's headquarters, "We need to speak with Colonel." Lucy said breathlessly, "We're scouts…sent here from Generals Hunter and Gillmore out of Charleston…we have some information, that may prove useful for your raid tonight."

"Raid?" scoffed the lieutenant, "I don't know what you're talking about, miss."

"I know that the Colonel Montgomery is organizing a raid on the Combahee River this evening," Lucy stated firmly with a bit of exasperation in her voice, "This raid is vital to the Union war effort in controlling South Carolina's harbors and supply lines. General Hunter and General Gillmore are depending on it."

"That raid has been called off, ma'am." The lieutenant replied with a quirk of his lip. "Early this morning we received word that the Confederates were making a move into the Low Country…so of course, we sent out a few scouts to check things out. Long about 11 o'clock this morning, these fellas came hobbling into town" he stated pointing to a group of wounded soldiers sitting outside a boarding house, "telling us that their position on the east side of the Combahee had been overrun by Confederates…outnumbered them five to one…they were chased all the way across the river, barely made it out of there alive.

"What?" Lucy gasped in horror, "How?"

He nodded towards a man with a sling on his arm, "That fella right there overheard a couple of the Rebs talking, Colonel Ryerson had his troops march in and take hold of Middleton plantation, word is they're planning an attack on Beaufort and Port Royal soon."

"Who?" Lucy asked in bewilderment.

The lieutenant laughed at her, "Don't you read the papers? Colonel Ryerson is just about as big as General Lee these days. He seems to swoop in at just the right time…like he knows what we're planning before we plan it…almost like he could see the future."

Lucy exchanged a glance with Flynn, "Yeah, that's really something." she muttered knowingly. So, they knew who the sleeper was…this Colonel Ryerson and with a host of Confederate forces at his disposal ready to launch an assault before the Union troops could pounce, he had already effectively changed history without really firing a single shot. Thanking the lieutenant, Lucy stepped away with Flynn, her mind buzzing with the implications of the failure of this raid. "This is bad. We can't let this happen. If that sleeper takes out Beaufort," Lucy whispered as she looked at the Union soldiers dotted throughout the sleepy, coastal Southern town, "the North will lose control of the supply lines, Vicksburg could be liberated, it could completely change the tide of the war…"

"Yes, but Lucy," Flynn argued, "they are being led by a man who knows what's supposed to happen. He's got hundreds of men under his command…there are only four of us." He scoffed, "unless you can convince Colonel Montgomery to lend you an Army, I think we're going to have to come up with another plan."

"There's no time for another plan," Lucy contended hotly, "right now Wyatt and Rufus are…" she gasped in horror as her widened eyes met Flynn's, "Wyatt and Rufus! Oh my God, Flynn, they're walking right into a trap. They could have been mixed up in all of that fighting. They could…"

"You don't know that." Flynn interrupted her soothingly, "As much as I hate to admit it, Wyatt is no fool…he's not likely to run right into a camp full of Confederate soldiers…especially not with Rufus. If anything, he'll see the danger, and act accordingly."

Lucy nodded attempting to loosen the knot of anxiety that was tightly wound in her chest, but it was no use, there was too much at stake, too many things that could go wrong, "They don't know that the mission has been called off…they're going in there, expecting the Union soldiers to show up. They're expecting us, Flynn…and how are we going to get to them without getting caught ourselves? I mean…if what they're saying is true, the Confederates have control of the whole region around the Combahee right now."

Flynn, seeing that she was still obviously unnerved, placed a soothing hand on her shoulder, "It'll be alright, Lucy. He'll figure it out. He…"

"We have to find a way back to them." she interrupted with a frantic shake of her head, "We need to regroup…figure out something together here…"

We can't risk getting ourselves caught." Flynn reminded her, "We need to be in a position to stop Rittenhouse…stop this Colonel Ryerson if Wyatt and Rufus can't…" he bit his lip, not wanting to make Lucy any more nervous and upset than she already was. "Listen, I know it's hard, but Wyatt is more than capable of handling situations like this. He'll figure out a way to get himself and Rufus to safety without us crossing into Confederate lines," he let out a derisive chuckle, "unless, of course, you know your way around the backwoods of South Carolina…"

"I don't." Lucy breathed out, "but I know someone who does." Turning quickly on her heel and jogging back towards the church, Lucy accosted the same lieutenant who was now making his way across the street, "Excuse me!" she called out desperately, "please, can you tell me where I can find Harriet Tubman?"

"The General?" the lieutenant asked with a smirk, "why do you want to know?"

Lucy looked back at him desperately, "I need her help."

"You gonna be okay?" Rufus tentatively asked Wyatt as he stood watching Lucy ride off with Flynn. It was clear he was worried, but Wyatt said nothing. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed back to the map he had discarded next to an old stump. After perusing it for some time, he looked to Rufus with a sigh, "Well, we're gonna get wet."

Nodding at what he deemed to be a logical conclusion given the swampy scene around them, Rufus followed anxiously in Wyatt's wake, constantly looking over his shoulder, obviously nervous about his particular situation running around in the South during the Civil War. His only consolation was that he was with Wyatt, who, as he was dressed as a farmer, could easily pass as a Southerner…particularly with his Texas twang and so if they did meet any trouble, Wyatt would be able to cover for him…unless, of course, they asked for papers.

Not wanting to think about the implications that would arise should they find themselves without proper identification in a paranoid South, Rufus trudged on as quickly as he could, hoping that their time in 1863 would be mercifully short and without incident.

And for a long while there were no incidents. Occasionally they found themselves knee-deep in brackish water, but given the heat of the day, neither Wyatt nor Rufus complained, if anything they found those stretches of their long journey refreshing. It did, however, slow their progress and that made Wyatt more than a little anxious…without being able to move swiftly, they were vulnerable. If they did run into trouble, they needed to be able to move…and move fast. Pulling out the map again, Wyatt was just about to motion to Rufus to make his way towards more solid ground when some movement caught his eye. "Get down" he whispered to Rufus as they ducked in the midst of the tall reeds.

There, a few hundred yards ahead of them they saw, much to their relief, a small troop of Union soldiers, 20-30 at most, marching along a muddy road that led into a sprawling forest.

"What's going on?" Rufus asked as he turned to Wyatt.

"I don't know." Wyatt murmured, "That looks like a reconnaissance team…scouts…"

"Um…if this place is supposed to be empty, why do they need reconnaissance?" Rufus asked nervously.

"I don't know." Wyatt murmured as he scanned the horizon, "but I don't like it. Something isn't right." Solemn and alert, Wyatt made his way as silently through the water and reeds as he could until he once again found solid ground. Turning to Rufus, he whispered, "Just stay close…we're gonna follow those guys…see what they're out here for."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rufus hissed back anxiously, "Obviously they are out here for a reason…and if that reason is the Confederate army…well, I really don't want to run into them, if it's all the same to you."

They had not gone far up the muddy road when suddenly, the sound of gunfire rent the air, causing Wyatt to grab Rufus by the arm and duck him behind the trunk of a tall Loblolly pine. The branches were far too high up the trunk to provide any kind of significant cover, but thankfully, the tall grass lining the dirt path on which they had been walking, shielded them from view as they crouched down on the ground. Peering through the underbrush, Wyatt could see movement further up ahead, coupled with little puffs of smoke that followed every volley of rifle fire.

"What the hell?" Rufus breathed out in a panicked voice. "Lucy said there weren't any Confederates over here anymore!"

Wyatt shrugged, "Looks like she was wrong…or," Wyatt surmised with a serious nod, "we're too late."

"You don't think they've already taken out Harriet Tubman, do you?" Rufus whispered harshly.

"Let's hope not." Wyatt said with a quirk of his head. "But if she's supposed to be arriving with the Union troops on that boat, then I'd venture a guess that she's okay. We, on the other hand, not so much."

"Don't tell me that." Rufus murmured despondently with his head in his hands, "maybe there's just a couple of them…maybe these are just a couple of stragglers."

"I wouldn't bet on it." Wyatt said tersely, "There's a lot of movement up there…and it's definitely more troops than what we just saw." As gunfire erupted all around them, Wyatt considered what Lucy had told them that morning. The Union was supposed to have control over most of this area…but they had only seen that small troop…a reconnaissance team, which was now being attacked. If the Confederate army wasn't supposed to reach this region until tonight via the pontoon bridge then…something had to have changed….and Wyatt was sure Rittenhouse was behind it. "This…this is an ambush. We're too damn late."

"What do you mean, we're too late?" Rufus asked anxiously, "This raid isn't supposed to go down until tonight!"

Wyatt shook open the map and pointed roughly to the river, "The Union is supposed to come up this river, pretty much unchallenged…no one is supposed to be here." he reminded him pointedly, "By reinforcing their position, preparing for this raid…if the Confederates get troops on both sides of this river it's gonna completely bottleneck the Union ships. They're gonna be hit with fire from both sides making it nearly impossible for this thing to go down tonight. They'll be sitting ducks."

"Wyatt," Rufus gasped in panic, "Lucy…Flynn…if they get on those boats…"

"I know, Rufus." Wyatt interjected sharply. His nerves were on edge. If the Union Army were sailing into a trap, then Lucy and Flynn would be caught right in the crosshairs…that is, if they had even made it to Beaufort. "We need to figure out just how many damn troops are actually here…get a good idea of what they're going to be up against…and then we need to figure out a way to warn them."

"And just how are we supposed to do that?" Rufus asked him incredulously. "We're two people…even if we did manage to do a headcount, how the hell are we going to get that news all the way to Beaufort in time to stop this thing?"

Rufus had him there. He had no clue what the hell they were going to do now. If it turned out he was right and the Confederates had already buoyed up their position along the Combahee then the raid that was to free so many men, women and children would fail before it even began. Wyatt thought back to 1918; that Captain who had captured him had risen through the ranks, earned the trust of his men…had been implanted in the past for years. If the same was true here, if the Confederates were being led by a man who knew how this was all supposed to play out, the Union had no chance.

Unless Lucy got there safely and could convince them to do something about it.

She was no military strategist, but she knew this war, she knew the players, she would understand the consequences better than any of them…but if she didn't know there was even a reason to switch gears…

Dammit.

He and Rufus were pinned down, possibly surrounded by Confederate forces…and Lucy and Flynn were flying blind. If that weren't enough to set his heart racing, Rittenhouse probably had a sleeper leading this whole thing and, while Wyatt wasn't the historian Lucy was, he was pretty damn sure that if that were, in fact the case, it could change the entire outcome of the Civil War.

As the sounds of the skirmish died away and the sounds of gunfire were replaced with the twittering of birds, Wyatt slowly emerged from their hiding place and cautiously stepped forward. Motioning to Rufus, Wyatt urged him forward, still taking care to keep to the tree line in case they needed to duck and cover once more. As it was, however, the road ahead of them remained almost unnervingly quiet; they had been witness to what they soon became aware was a deadly clash between Confederate forces and what appeared to be a small scout team of black Union soldiers, the condition of their uniforms indicating that they had seen very little in the way of battle.

Well…before today, anyway.

Grim-faced Wyatt scanned the men laying around them, some donned in blue, others in drab gray but there appeared to be no survivors. Hearing a rustling nearby, Wyatt whispered to Rufus to get down as he took careful aim with his gun. With bated breath, he watched and waited until finally, three figures emerged, a woman, and two men…all of them African American. Heaving out a sigh of relief, Wyatt holstered his weapon and lifted his arms in surrender as guns were quickly pointed in his direction, "I'm not gonna hurt you." Wyatt called out to them, motioning to Rufus with his head to join him in the road. "We're here to help."

"You're here to help who?" came the woman's gruff voice, as she continued to aim her rifle at them, steady and unwavering in her stance.

"We're with the Union." Wyatt called out. "We heard there's going to be raid along the river tonight and we wanted to see what we could do to help out the cause."

Still not lowering her weapon, the woman responded with a scoff, "You're late. T'aint gonna be no raid tonight. Rebs done chased away the soldiers that was here…got a big ol' army setting up and down the river now."

Wyatt exchanged a look with Rufus, "That's not supposed to happen…I mean," he corrected himself with a shake of his head, "there's got to be a way to drive them off."

Laughing, the woman shouldered her rifle and shook her head at them, "Right now they's got Colonel Montgomery outnumbered five to one. These fine boys here were the last of my scout unit. Seeing as how they's dead now, it'll take a miracle from the good Lord above to see this raid through."

"But all those slaves…" Rufus countered with a look of alarm, "they were supposed to be set free tonight."

"S'right" she added with a disappointed nod, "A lot of good folk was depending on us…and I'm not one to let them down. You're welcome to join me, if you want…but I'm telling you right now, it ain't gonna be easy."

Realization dawned on Rufus' face as he stood there gaping at her, "You're…you're Harriet Tubman, aren't you?"

"Do I know you?" she asked as she narrowed her eyes.

"No…no ma'am." Wyatt answered, a little awe-struck, "But you're...well, you're a legend where we come from."

"And where is that?"

"Really…really far up north." Rufus quipped as he exchanged a bemused look with Wyatt.

"Ya'll must be Canadians." she answered. "Well this ain't your fight, but I'll welcome all the help I can get."

"We're gonna need a fool-proof plan." Wyatt advised, "We have reason to believe the Confederates are being led by a spy…and well, he…he's got all the plans the Union army has been working on for the rest of the war…if he's allowed to keep doing what he's doing…"

"Say goodbye to any chance at freedom." Rufus finished with a solemn nod.

"Do you have any idea where these Confederates might be? How many of them there are?" Wyatt asked.

She shook her head, "That Colonel Ryerson's been causing all sorts of ruckus up and down these parts, him and his damn Rebs came out of nowhere, like they knew exactly what to do and where to go." She nodded knowingly, "From what I can tell, he's holed up in the Middleton plantation right now. I have a couple of kinfolk that works them fields…they can help us find your spy, if he's there."

Wyatt considered their options. He had no way to know if Lucy had made it to Beaufort, and even if they did scout out the position of the Confederate army, there would be no way to inform the Union army of their findings…not in time to do anything about it anyway. They were stuck. If this raid wasn't going to take place the way it was supposed to, the least he could do was take out the damn sleeper so that he couldn't cause even more damage to the timeline. Going behind enemy lines wasn't exactly the safest option, but they really had no choice. Exchanging a dark look with Rufus, Wyatt nodded, "Lead on, General."

She nodded towards a Confederate corpse, "You best get yourself a uniform, you're gonna need it."