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what this is all about. How the Mob initially learned about me and what I can do is still uncertain, but it probably all started during the D.C. terrorist thing, when several people became aware of me, or at least Stan Mathews. That would be consistent with when we think the microphones were installed, although they really moved quickly with that. It’s grown out of control already. Now it’s November. Carlson called me about the terrorist fear on August 26th. That’s just over two months. I have to go back then and see what I can do.”

“Two more months, Jake!” Karin objected. “Are you sure you can do that? You said the last jump was horrible, and that was considerably less.”

“I’ll take it in stages,” he promised. “And I’ll rest between each jump. Perhaps break it into three segments. That way it shouldn’t be so bad.”

Karin still wasn’t comfortable with Jake’s plan, but knew there was nothing she could say that would stop him at this point. They had the dinner she had prepared when she expected Laney to spend the night, and then put Janna to bed. Jake looked at his daughter for a long time. The next time he saw her she’d be barely seven months old. His little girl was becoming a baby, and he wasn’t comfortable with the change, even knowing she’d grow up again. Then Karin and he went to bed, making love before drifting to sleep. Waking sometime in the middle of the night, Jake began his jumps back toward August.

Chapter 23

Jake didn’t recognize the hospital, nor had he any idea how he’d come to be there. He’d woken alert, with no sense of having been sedated, although surprised at the disorientation of waking in a place he didn’t recognize and with no ability to recall how he’d come to be there. It was a reasonably sized room, and he was the lone patient. There wasn’t a second bed, so he’d been given a private room. Jake was aware of the antiseptic smell that he associated with such places and could hear the soft voices of people beyond his door, which was open about a third of the way. He was certain he would be heard if he shouted, but he wasn’t yet ready for that. He wanted to try and sort out his thoughts before having to deal with the inevitable questions.

Nothing identified where he was. The room was windowless, so the hospital could be located anywhere. It could also be anytime of day or night. Surrounding his bed, which was slightly elevated where his head rested so he could easily see down the length to his toes under the white sheet, were any number of electronic units. The usual flat screen display that monitored his heart was showing a repeating pattern across its surface, and an automatic cuff that periodically took his blood pressure was connected to his arm and presumably provided input for one of the traces. The only thing he could read and understand was his temperature, which appeared normal at ninety-eight point seven. Other units, mostly idle, were positioned around the bed. A pair of drip needles were inserted into the back of his right hand and taped into place so he wouldn’t disturb them. At the moment one was disconnected, but the other connected to a half empty bag of some clear solution that was supported on a rack next to his bed.

Quietly, he took a private inventory of his condition. Maybe there were clues that would bring back a memory of whatever had transpired. He slid the sheet down and examined his arms and chest. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary as near as he could tell. Nothing hurt, nor were there any marks. He slid the sheet aside and slid his right leg out, the bare leg visible under the flimsy hospital gown that he was wearing. Idly he wondered where his clothes might be. The right leg looked normal, and the toes wiggled at his command. The left was no different. The only anomaly he could point to was his head. His brain felt too large for his skull, and he felt as if he were observing the room from a long distance away. That suggested something, but he wasn’t yet prepared to go there.

Jake returned his attention to the room. He could see no place they might have put his clothes, but recalled that there was often a tray under the bed. They might

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