Don't Sleep in the Subway Part Two - Cover

Don't Sleep in the Subway Part Two

Copyright© 2018 by RWMoranUSMCRet

Chapter 20

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 20 - Jack Kruger has been back in Brooklyn for some time now and he yearns to return to the past and witness those battles that he had studied for so many years in his military studies. The American Civil War was fresh in his memory, but now he was focused on the American Revolution and he wanted to begin in 1775 right at the beginning in order to follow the time line in a way that made it easy for him to understand Washington's strategy.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Historical   War   Time Travel   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Squirting   Voyeurism   Doctor/Nurse   Violence  

(A cup of tea with General Benedict Arnold)

I happened to be on my way back to our camp but was still in redcoat territory when I stopped at a cozy looking little tavern near the shore that had a red and black rooster on a huge sign outside proclaiming it to have the tastiest tea in the entire colony.

I had to chuckle at the seriousness of the claim since one of the original causes of the current conflict was the ridiculous tax on tea instituted by the British Parliament at a time when the Sons of Liberty were shouting out against the tyranny of taxes from foreign shores.

It was far too tempting to pass up because I was thirsty from the dust of the road.

I noticed right away a coven of military types huddled around the warmth of the generous fireplace drinking all sorts of concoctions from tea to whiskey to hot chocolate. Due to my weakness of will with regard to spirits, I had recently vowed to stick with tea or coffee or even fruit juices to avoid that placidness of soul that made me more muddled than vibrant.

My parson garb and lack of weapons made me outside that circle and I simply sat there in close concert but mostly unnoticed due to bland disregard. I recognized the famous General immediately because I had done a paper in college about the unfair treatment of General Arnold after he had practically won the early half of the war entirely with his own military genius. The fact that he was seriously wounded as well was often ignored by the civilian types that had insulated Washington from the real warriors of the Revolution and they did their best to undermine his reputation by seizing on minute discrepancies in his books to cast him as a profit taker of the worst sort. It was obvious that was quite disturbing to him and he was further undermined by the fact that his new spouse had been compromised by a working agent of the British secret service who also happened to be a handsome French officer with impeccable manners and taste for the finer things in life.

I sat there only a few feet from the famous man with all of this time-warped knowledge and my tongue was still because there was no point in revealing the truth of the matter.

I did my best not to make eye contact with the man because I sensed he had this ability to sense danger and to see beneath the surface to get to the core of the issue whatever it might be. Perhaps I was too cautious because he came over to my table and introduced himself leaving out the title of “General”.

At that particular point in time, the astounding news of General Arnold’s treachery was not fully known by the general populace because it would far too demoralizing in certain quarters. He had escaped justice whilst poor Major Andre had not and General Arnold’s pretty wife was packed off to New Brunswick for some rehabilitative “cooling off”.

I remembered that at the time, the rumor was that Major Andre was given short shrift with a prompt hanging because of the terribly bad British conduct with their treatment of Nathan Hale in direct conflict with customary treatment of prisoners.

Whatever the reason, here was Arnold all decked out in a British regular Army uniform and in command of a sizable force of redcoats that were most likely unaware of his military potential in almost any combat situation. Their high ranking officers were mostly puffed up diplomats with good education and not vicious killers like Arnold when the chips were down.

I felt certain that if the General suspected for a moment that I was spying for the Patriot forces, he would cut my throat in an instant and there would be no worry about time travel ever again on my part.

“Quite a cold evening outside and I heard it was a lot colder up in New York with ice floating down the Hudson to flow out to the Atlantic making navigation hazardous for one and all.”

I knew I had to respond and I hoped he would not be suspicious of my latter day New York accent because it did not quite fit into any leaning of tongue in these southern parts.

“That is so true, sir I have no desire to brace the cold north wind that cuts right through your bones like a sliver of ice under your collar.”

I had not used any name on purpose because I did not want him to be focusing on me in the slightest. I sensed he was a danger to me and my extended conversation would possibly give me away with his powers of deducing the truth from the slightest of tiny lies presented to him by inferior intellects. I had to make the assumption that his lack of suspicion with regard to his spouse was due to being completely blinded by love and no other reason.

At that moment a trio of perfumed floozies came into the establishment and most of his companions retired to their rooms to become better acquainted with them in the privacy behind a closed door.

It was ill-timed from my point of view but it was too late now and the General continued to keep me in conversation.

I have to confess I stunned him with my knowledge of the current situation from Canada in the north to the southern colonies with my long-range knowledge of positions and future battles. Of course, I kept the future results well-hidden but I did hint at some of the outcomes to the degree that he was driven to taking a double shot of the innkeeper’s best whiskey to chase away his uncomfortable feeling that I was right on the mark in his well-informed estimation.

I could tell the General’s leg was acting up from the way he had it up on a footstool out to the side. He had been told by notable doctors that he would probably not be able to walk properly after that third bullet went all the way through just below the kneecap. The first time he got shot in the leg, his horse had the misfortune of landing on top of him and he came quite close to leaving the earth with his goals unaccomplished. Now, he was much more relaxed in his thoughts because he had reached the rank of a senior general in the Continental Army and now he was a Brigadier in the British Army as well. He had been a junior officer in the British Army back in the French and Indian Wars just like General George Washington but even at that time Washington outranked him due to political considerations.

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