The reception went without incident, and just to be generous David left an envelope with a few hundred bucks but didn't sign it. He still had plenty left to handle his own expenses, but Harv wouldn't dream of him paying a dime. Turns out Harv had used time travel to pick up some riches as well, as it appeared that each generation found a way to use the portal to remain above board. David didn't take offense and let the old man spoil his grandkid. After David's room was booked, Harv insisted on taking him to a bar for a drink just to hang out and shoot the shit as he so eloquently put it. It felt weird hitting the bar later in the night, but the more David hung around with Harv the more he liked the old man.

"So... you're a cop?" Harv asked, fishing for details.

"Worse," David said, taking a sip of his beer, "I'm a fed."

"Jesus," Harv cussed, as if he couldn't believe it. "Which agency?"

"The oldest one," David said, "Formed by George Washington himself when he signed the Judiciary Act of 1789."

Harv paused for a moment, trying to think of it.

"Wyatt Earp was one too." David said, giving the old man a hint.

"You're a marshal?" Harv said, amused by it.

"Living the dream," David said, with thick sarcasm. "The dream is never as glorious as advertised in your childhood, but I still find it quite satisfying."

"You're still on active duty?" Harv asked.

"I'm on personal leave," David explained, "Using my time to explore this really interesting cave."

"I never judge anyone who chooses their own pursuits over the Portal," Have said, "But sometimes you're lucky enough to do both."

"Like you said, one helps the other." David said as he leaned over. "Don't look but there's a man in a black suit at the bar. I saw him a few times today. He's probably following you because there's no way he would have been aware of me before today."

"We've sometimes draw some attention," Harv said, not even bothering to look. "I'm not sure who they work for but they're no doubt trying to find out how we can travel through time. They've only become more prevalent in the last few years."

"They're just as active in the future," David added, "They've been hassling my brother and they even shot him."

"Is he alright?" Harv asked.

"He'll be fine," David answered, "But we might as well find out."

"I'm listening," Harv said as his curiosity was peaking.

It was twenty minutes later when both men stumbled out of the bar, exaggerating how drunk they were. It was at this point where the man in the suit David thought was tailing them left the bar and followed the two of them into an alley. The man in black walked as close as he could without drawing the attention of the two drunken men. This is when Harv pretended to barf, making loud sounds and staying on his knees as he pretended to puke behind the garbage cans. The man following them kept his distance, and was about to use a radio to call someone, but didn't as something else had happened. The barrel of a gun was pressed to the back of his head and the man in the suit had no idea it was there until he could hear the hammer cock right behind him.

"Let me see your hands," David said, with a tone that meant business.

"You can't do this," the man said as he still raised his hands.

"I can't?" David repeated, as he started the search the man for weapons. "Care to explain why?"

"I'm a federal agent," the man replied.

"Is that so," David said, turning the man around to face him. "Let's see some credentials."

The man didn't say anything nor did he make any motion to reveal it to him. David stood there waiting but nothing happened.

"So, no credentials," David said as he pulled out his own badge. "In case you're wondering, this is what federal credentials look like."

"Is that real?" the man said.

"Oh, it's legit." David said, "I'm a US Marshal, and you're under arrest."

"You can't arrest me," The man protested, "I haven't broken any laws!"

"That's where you're wrong," David said as he spun the man around and cuffed him, "US Code title eighteen, sub section nine-one-two: falsely assuming to be an officer acting under the authority of a US department or agency. That's an offense that carries a sentence of three to five years hard time in a federal penitentiary."

"Well well," Harv said, walking back to see the fish that his grandson has caught. "Look what we have here."

"Anything you'd like to ask him?" David asked his grandfather.

"Yeah," Harv said, looking at his stalker. "Why are you following me?"

"I'm not telling you anything." The man replied. "I have rights."

"That's what you think," David said, slamming the man up against the brick wall beside them. "All it takes is one phone call from my boss to Washington D.C. and under the patriot act you will be declared an enemy combatant. You'll be stripped of all your rights, including the right to due process. After that we'll have you flown out to a black site in Europe or South America, in a nation that doesn't have any laws covering torture. Once you're there, we have many ways to make you talk and if you're lucky you might see the light of day in about twenty or thirty years."

"You're lying," The man cried out, "there's no way the government can do that to anyone."

"Let's find out," David said, pulling the man off the wall, "Let's take this turd downtown and get him processed."

"No!" The man said, obviously scared for his life. "I'll talk."

"Last chance!" David roared as he slammed the cuffed man against the brick wall again. "Who do you work for?"

"They're called the foundation," the man squealed, "A private organization that is aware that a select few Americans are time traveling, but are unsure how. Our goal is to find out so we can start to travel ourselves."

"Not enough," Harv said, "When was this foundation... founded?"

"I don't know that," the man replied, "All I know is that they're aware that a certain group of Americans are traveling through time. We've been trying to track you but you're never around long enough for us to catch up. We've tried to figure out how you do it, but no luck so far."

"How do you track us?" Harv asked, "You can't travel through time, can you?"

"Not yet," the man replied, "But once we can, it will be much easier."

"Good luck with that," David said as he took the butt of gun and knocking the man out with a single pistol whip.

"Nice shot," Harv said, looking down at the unconscious man.

"Lots of practice," David said as he removed the cuffs. He also took his hat back from the man who was walking out of the bar with Harv, and handed the man one of his hundred dollar bills. "Thanks for your help, we were never here and this never happened. Understood?"

"I don't know what you're talking about mister," The decoy replied.

"Good man," David said before turning to his grandfather, "I think a strategic retreat back to the hotel might be in order."

"I agree," Harv said as the two men left the alley.

When the returned the hotel, David signed out a new room under a different name, paying extra to avoid using ID. The new room had two beds and Harv was forced to move in there as well. David also picked a room that had a view of the old rooms they still had booked, so that he could watch them from the window of their new room to see if any men in suits were stopping by to check up on them.

"Aren't you being a bit paranoid kid?" the old man asked.

"I don't think so." David replied, as he was peeking through a crack in the curtain. "They might make an aggressive move, especially after what we did their man in the alley. They might panic and try to take us once they realize they've been made."

"Okay," the old man said, "Mind if I watch some television?"

"Go ahead," David said, not looking back. "Just keep the volume low."

Harv had gone to sleep long before David did, and after a few hours of watching their old rooms, David decided to get some sleep himself. Rather than use one of the beds to sleep, David set up two lazy boy like chair up to sleep on those instead, with his back on one and his feet up on the other. He also leaned one back against the door, to make it a bit more difficult to kick it open. So if someone tried to come in, David would be immediately alerted. With his head beside the door, he would also have no trouble hearing anyone trying to pick the lock, and also respond without hesitation. It was a trick he liked to do whenever he was guarding a witness for the marshals. It allowed him to get some sleep without worrying about the door. Thankfully, the night went by without incident. David woke up first and moved the chairs back to their original position long before Harv started to stir.

"Did you sleep at all?" his grandfather asked.

"A bit," David replied, still peeking through the window. "Bad habit, I guess. Sometimes I don't sleep at all when watching a witness unless I have someone else watching my back. I can sleep when my shift is over."

"Watching a witness?" Harv repeated.

"Marshals are not all about fugitives anymore," David said, not looking back. "We also protect state and federal witnesses for the prosecution. Make sure they arrive alive to testify. We also run witness relocation programs now as well. We're also in charge of seizure of assets of said criminals as well. Not as glorious as Wyatt Earp's days, but not everyone gets their gunfight at the O.K. Coral. There is a lot more grunt work, but I like it. Keeps me busy and out of trouble most of the time."

"Most of the time," Harv repeated, with a chuckle. "You sound like you've already had a few gunfights."

"Only a few," David said, "Sometimes a fight cannot be avoided. When it comes to you, hesitation is the real killer, not the bad guy's gun."

"Like I said before kid," Harv said, as he was dressing, "Your experience with the Marshals will only makes you a better time traveler."

"They know little about us," David replied, "They also don't understand that we cannot die, so I'd rather be killed then captured and I'd take as many of those bastards with me if I had to."

"You're one tough hombre to begin with," Harv concurred, "If these guys try to take you, it would take an army to bring you in. The losses they would take make any attempt fruitless."

"Let's hope they don't have that many people." David said, as he finally stopped looking outside. "I'm hungry; I want to go out for breakfast."

"Have you ever been to Jerry's diner?" Harv asked.

"I heard about it," David replied, "But it burned down years before I could remember it."

"The best in town," Harv said, "Let's get going."

"Are we still hitting the range to shoot some pigeons?" David asked.

"You still want to go?" Harv replied.

"Hell yeah," David said, as he was actually looking forward to it. "No one's going to bug us on the range, especially after they see how well we can use those rifles."

"Good point!" Harv said, laughing. "Very good point!"

The two men left for breakfast and while it was a little greasy, David enjoyed the company more than he did the food, and then Harv drove them both to the firing range in his car. David couldn't help but notice how old the car was, as in his day it would be a classic.

"They don't make cars this amazing anymore," David told the old man.

"I hear you," Harv replied, "I don't think my son would appreciate this kind of automobile. He and the new wife don't seem to care about make or model, just whether it can get them from one point to another. Don't get me wrong, I like your parents, but they're missing out on some of the finer things in life."

"Then don't give it to them." David said, "Stash this away in a garage and leave it to me in the will. I'll give it the care and love that it deserves."

Harv smiled and nodded his approval. "I like the way you think."

"My boss would shit a brick if he saw me rolling up in this beast." David said, smiling at the thought.

"I'll make sure it happens," the old man said, smiling. "I can see you appreciate fine work and I would prefer to keep her in the family. What kind of car are you driving in the future?"

"I have what's called a Hummer, and it's a beast" David admitted, "It's the same vehicle that the military currently uses for their combat missions."

"Shit," Harv said, "Why would you want a thing like that?"

"It can go off road," David explained, "It can take a few hits and barely miss a beat. It's also bullet proof, which is helpful in my line of work. It's a bit above and beyond, but it sort of fits my personality and attitude."

"Sounds like it," Harv said, thinking about it. "I'll have to use the portal to jump forward and check it out."

"We can do that?" David said, but then he remembered that Rick brought someone from the future, just one of many details that David was still trying to process that he's been give in the last few days.

"It's not recommended," Harv explained, "Going back is a lot less dangerous than going forward, but if you just observe and don't bring anything back with you, visiting the future doesn't cause any harm."

"So if you jump forward," David said, thinking about it. "A quiet fishing trip wouldn't cause any harm?"

"How the hell did my son's kid turn out this cool without me around?" Harv said, laughing as he liked David the more he talked to him.

"I was rebellious." David replied, "Very rebellious."

"I'm sure your father thought of me every time you were," Harv said, "I was the same when I was a kid. Bold and in your face, and I see a lot of that in you. I see a lot of me in you."

Shooting at the range with his grandfather was everything David had hoped it would be and then some. Like Harv, David didn't have anyone in his personal life that liked to go out and shoot in his personal life so it was nice to shoot some clay pigeons and show off his skills with a rifle. Harv as a great shot himself, as every single pigeon that was slung up there came down in pieces. Things were going rather well, that was until a few men dressed in suits had the nerve to walk up to them. They were wearing similar suits to the man that David had roughed up the night before, but he wasn't present with the four men that were approaching David and Harv.

"You've got some minerals," David called out as he watched them approach. "Walking up to two men holding shotguns, especially considering how good we are with them."

"Shooting pigeons is a far cry from shooting a human being." One of the men replied.

"Oh I agree," David said, cocking his rifle. "It's a lot different."

"So I assume that rifle is loaded?" The man called back.

"It is," David replied, "As are the two handguns on my person."

"Do you have a permit to carry those?" he replied.

"I do," David said as he lifted his shirt, which showed off the star that was currently attached to his belt.

"Well, well. A US Marshal," the man said, looking at his star. "That was unexpected."

"Life is just full of surprises," David said, not taking his eyes off the other men to make sure none of them drew on him. "How about we start with names; who the hell are you?"

"My name is Ferguson." The man replied as he gestured the other three men to back away. "What's your name?"

"I'm David," David responded, as there was no reason to lie until he had a good reason to. "Your man was stalking a federal agent, so I was within my rights to question him about it."

"But not to knock him out," Ferguson countered.

"Your man was doing fine when I last saw him," David retorted, "He must have slipped on a banana peel after we left."

"What are you doing here in town, Marshal?" Ferguson asked.

"Family business," David said, smiling that only he and Harv knew the meaning. "And what are you doing out here? Are you going to lie about being a federal agent or will you admit that you work for a foundation?"

"You know about the foundation?" the man replied.

"You man had some loose lips last night," Harv said, "We know more about you than you know about us."

"So you know why we're here." The man in charge called out.

"We know what you're looking for, but you're going to be very disappointed." David replied, "What we do is none of your business and it never will be."

"Who gives you that right to make that decision?" the man asked.

"Fate, I guess." David said, turning to Harv for a moment. "That sound about right to you?"

"Yeah, works for me." Harv concurred.

"How does it work?" Ferguson asked, "Why do you hide access to it from the rest of the world?"

"Because it won't work for everyone," Harv replied, "You can't use it without the key."

David closed his eyes, and sighed. That's how the foundation knew about the key when they attacked Ricky. He realized that Harv had just inadvertently set Ricky's attack in motion.

"Look," David said as he took a few steps closer to Ferguson. "We're not trying to horde this phenomenon to ourselves; it just doesn't work for everyone who tries to use it."

"I don't believe you," Ferguson said, looking rather stubborn.

"To be honest," David said, taking a step back now. "I really don't give a rat's ass what you believe. The truth also doesn't give two shits about what you believe; things are just the way they are, and your views about them are never going to change it."

"You sure about that?" Ferguson asked.

"I'm pretty confident," David replied, "So I suggest you and your suits go back from whence you came, and let me the old man get back to our shooting."

"Alright," Ferguson said, backing away, "But this isn't over. We are going to speak again."

"Whatever," David said, turning his back on them. "Maybe next time you can set an appointment with my secretary!"

"I'll do that." Ferguson said, and he walked away with his men.

"Damn," Harv said, looking at his grandson. "You are one imposing bastard, aren't you?"

"That kind of imposing helps avoid bloodshed," David said, as he turned back to watch them leave. "When we're done here, I'll show you how to sweep the car for bugs. You can teach that to your son later. I have a feeling this foundation isn't going away anytime soon."

"I reckon not," Harv agreed, "But at least we get to finish our shooting."

"What happens if someone who isn't in our blood tries to use the portal?" David asked, curious about it.

"Nothing." Harv replied, "I've seen someone try and there's no response."

"He's not going to like that," David continued, "And when someone can't play with a toy they really want they respond in one of two ways. Either they accept the truth and give up, or they destroy the toy so no one else can play with it too."

"He doesn't seem like the kind of man who gives up," Harv observed.

"No," David concurred, "He doesn't."