The Titanic Plan Read Online Free Page B

looked molded on his muscular body and his soldier’s cap was cocked slightly in a rakish manner. His look was direct; his coal black eyes glared straight into the camera. The intensity of his gaze was offset by a sly, confident grin that added a touch of lightness to his handsome face.
    “ Corporal Michael Shaughnessy,” Archie muttered.
    “ Also known as Mick?” asked Bonaparte.
    “ Mick. Yes. Good old crazy Mick.”
    “ He wasn’t mentally stable?”
    “ Sir, he was the most stable man I ever met. And the best soldier I ever served with. He admired the warriors of ancient Rome and strove to emulate their fierceness and loyalty. He told me that when he was young he became an altar boy to learn Latin so he might read Tacitus’ war histories of Rome.”
    “ Then why did you call him ‘crazy Mick’?”
    “ Because he was fearless. He would just as soon walk into an enemy’s gun nest as he would a saloon. And he’d wreak havoc in both places. The army tries to teach men bravery, but I do not believe it is something one can acquire. True bravery is something you must be born with. Mick Shaughnessy was born with bravery in every bone of his body. In the Philippines he single-handedly freed a group of Americans from an enemy hideout. Must have killed at least fifteen men without any loss of life on our side.”
    “ You considered him a patriot then?”
    “ A patriot and a hero. Why do you ask?”
    “ Because…” the Attorney General cleared his throat then looked directly at Archie, “…he is suspected of a New Year’s Eve bombing at the home of John Jacob Astor.”
    Bonaparte dropped the bit of news dramatically, expecting Archie to react with surprise. But he didn’t. “Didn’t the newspapers report that a furnace exploded?” Archie quietly answered.
    “ We have strong evidence it was a bomb. And Michael Shaughnessy was involved in planting it,” Bonaparte responded.
    “ With all due respect, sir, the only way I could believe that to be true is if Mick Shaughnessy told me himself. And even then I’m not sure I would take him at his word. He was a soldier of the highest order, willing to give his life for his country.”
    Bonaparte glanced down at the picture, meeting Mick Shaughnessy’s fierce gaze. “Then he must have changed.”
    “ No,” said Archie. “He would not have changed in that way.”
    “ When was the last time you saw him?”
    “ Nineteen hundred and four. We were still in the Philippines. He told me he was leaving the army to get married. He showed me a photograph of perhaps the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I wished him well, he wished me well. And like soldiers, we parted with a salute. That is the last I heard of him until this moment.”
    Bonaparte tugged at the hairs of his mustache again. “Thank you, Captain Butt. I request that if you should hear from him, you would report it directly to me or Mr. Finch.”
    Archie was puzzled. “I see no reason why I would ever hear from Mick Shaughnessy.”
    “ I understand. But if you should, you will let us know. Yes, Captain?” Bonaparte reached out his hand to shake with Archie.
    “ Of course, sir. Absolutely.”
     
     

CHAPTER 3
     
    It was an age of wonders. An age of dreamers. An age where anything and everything was possible. In 50 short years – from 1860 to 1910 – civilization went from horse and buggy to automobile, earthbound to airplane, concert hall to phonograph, live theater to moving picture, candle to light bulb, pony express to wireless telegraph, and, not the least significant, cannon ball and rifle to dynamite and machine gun.
    John Jacob Astor IV was one of those who had the fever to invent. Despite the blue blood that ran through his veins, Astor had the heart and mind of an engineer. Awkward and bumbling around people, especially people of his own privileged class, in his workshop he was an accomplished master. Amid his machines, drafting table, blueprints and models, John Astor felt