"During the latter part of the war, the South tried to ship the gold from New Orleans to a secret hiding place they had selected in Mississippi. That gold never was delivered and to this day no one knows for sure where it went. The story goes that they were ambushed by Northern troops who used a Gatling gun. Only one person survived and the gold was lost forever. These may have been renegades disguised as Federal troops." The tour guide led the group to the next exhibit. Two men stayed behind. One was a old man with white hair. The other was just the opposite, twenty something, tall and lean. A thin scar ran down one cheek. He had the look of a trained killer. Once a Delta Team member and now a freelance mercenary, Whitman was ready for this job. He had no fear.
"April 18th, 1865. That's when I'll arrive?"
"Yes. You'll step through just as they arrive."
"What's it like? Will it hurt?"
"Not at all. You'll just step through a doorway. You won't feel a thing."
"And the gold?"
"Half of it will be yours. I need the other half to further my research. Time travel is just one of my ideas. And why shouldn't we get rich off the past?"
"I have no problem with that Professor. I'm just thinking those poor Confederate bastards won't stand much of a chance. One man with an Uzi is all you'll need."
"I think we may have already succeeded, my friend. The perfect crime."