Marcus smiled and left.
Andrew Jenkins relocked the panel and started walking from the last railcar through the train. He casually strolled, glancing at some of the occupied seats, his eyes never locking with anyone. He sauntered all the way to the head railcar, turned around and began walking back through the train, the passengers now mostly facing him. Some were sleeping. Some people played games on smart-phones or tablets. A few people were turning their electronic devices back on, trying in vain to find an Internet signal. One man, with a black fedora pulled down over his face, slept in his seat, a disheveled newspaper on his lap.
“Prego, il signore,” said the conductor, walking around Jenkins.
“What’s happened to your Internet?” asked an American tourist.
“I’m going to check, sir.” The conductor continued walking.
Jenkins approached the serving counter in the dining car.
Marcus stepped into the dining car and stopped. He looked down the length of the car to the man whose back was facing him. The man walked with a slight limp to his left leg. Marcus froze. He watched the man shuffle up to the bar to order something from the bartender. Marcus backed out of the dining car and rushed to Alicia. He locked the door to the sleeper compartment. “We have trouble.”
“What do you mean, Paul?”
“The guy who tried to take us from the bridge, Andrew Jenkins, is on the train. He’s in the dining car.”
Alicia stood from sitting on the bottom berth. “Did he see you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“How the hell did he find us?”
“I don’t know. I hope Carlson didn’t have a second GPS implant put inside you.”
“We’ve got off get off this train.”
“First stop is Naples. Until then, it’s more than one hundred fifty kilometers per hour.”
“Now I know what happened to the Internet satellite signal. Jenkins did something to sabotage it. Probably found the server and damaged or disengaged it.” Marcus disconnected the flash drive from the laptop.
“That man, Jenkins, doesn’t know we’re in here. We didn’t buy space in here when we bought tickets.”
“No, but all he has to do is walk through the train. If he doesn’t see us out there, he’ll know we’re in here.”
“But he won’t know which berth. There are twelve more.”
“Unless he gets that information from the conductor.”
Jenkins walked back to the last rail car as quickly as he could, trying to keep his pronounced limp to a minimum. He entered the alcove where the conductor was opening the lock. Jenkins said, “Do you lose Internet service often?”
“Rarely. I’m sorry sir. Passengers are not permitted in this area of the train.”
Jenkins smiled. “If it’s your server, I’d be happy to take a look. I worked for Siemens. We’re the same folks who build these trains and program them with the computers. I know my way around the inside of any computer.”
“Okay. Maybe you know where to kick it.” The conductor stepped aside.
Jenkins knelt down and pretended to investigate the source of the trouble. He said, “I can easily unscrew the front panel and see if the motherboard shook loose. That can happen.”
“I hope you can fix it quickly. People on these routes love their Internet. Me, not so much.”
Jenkins chuckled. “I’m beginning to think I caught the wrong train. My cousin and his wife are traveling to Naples. I was supposed to join them tonight. I got caught in traffic, the rain, and bought a ticket late at the station. I walked through the train and didn’t see them.”
“There is a second train leaving Rome in less than a half hour. Perhaps they are on that one.”
“No, they were definitely boarding this one. He’s about forty, broad shoulders. Tall. She’s a little younger. Dark hair. Very pretty.”
“I’ve checked all the ticket holders. Don’t recall a couple like that. The only couple not seated in the general area that was supposed to be there, well, they don’t match that description. She’s pregnant. He’s a little stooped over, has a beard. The lady must be Muslim. She’s wearing a veil.”
“Oh, I didn’t notice them.”
“That’s because I put them in a sleeping suite. How are you coming?” The conductor leaned in closer. His eyes squinted in the lower light, and he pointed to the server. “The wires are cut! Couldn’t you see that?”
Jenkins smiled. “Yeah, I guess I could.” He grabbed the man’s head, viciously twisting. The conductor’s neck snapped. Ticket stubs fell from his hand, scattering across the alcove. He dropped to the floor with his eyes wide open.
ONE-HUNDRED-NINE
Alicia stood in the sleeping compartment and pulled the pillow from under her dress. She ripped the veil off the snaps and tossed it on the bed. “He knows we’re here. We don’t need this stuff now. Besides, I can’t run very well with a pillow strapped to my stomach.”
Marcus removed the fake beard. “He no doubt has a gun. Maybe we should make a fast break and run into the dining car. With so many people around, he’d be stupid to do anything.”
“What if the sick bastard is standing in the hall? He’s got orders to eliminate us. He doesn’t care where he does it. He could shoot his way out of the damn train.”
“We have something on our side?”
“What?”
“He doesn’t know that we know he’s here.” Marcus held a finger to his lips. He heard a soft knock at the door across the hall. A man said, “Biglietto, per favore. Tickets, please.”
Alicia whispered. “The conductor. We can tell him.”
“What if it isn’t the conductor?”
“He speaks with a perfect Italian dialect. If it’s not the conductor, don’t open the door then. The conductor would have a key.”
“Jenkins can probably pick a lock.”
“But if he tries that, it’s going to take longer, and we can hear him.”
The voice came closer. A soft knock on the door of the next compartment. “Biglietto, per favore…tickets, please.”
Marcus and Alicia could hear the adjacent door open. A woman’s voice answered. “È qui il mio biglietto.”
“Grazie, signora.”
Alicia leaned near Marcus’s ear and whispered. “It has to be the conductor. The woman in the next compartment thanked him. Open the door.”
“No.” Marcus pulled the spearhead from his pants pocket.
“What are you doing, Paul?”
“It’s all we have to defend ourselves. It’s sharp and can do some damage to a throat if I can strike first.”
There was a knock at their door. “Biglietto, per favore…tickets, please.”
Marcus held his finger to his lips and looked at Alicia.
Another knock. “Biglietto, per favore…tickets, please.”
There was the sound of someone trying to pick the lock.
Marcus whispered in Alicia’s ear. “It’s not the conductor. Lie down on the floor. When I open the door, crawl out into the hallway and run like hell to the dining car.”
“What are you going to do?”
Marcus said nothing. He took the Zippo lighter from his pocket and ignited the newspaper, allowing the paper to become engulfed in flames before he threw the pillow over it. The room filled with smoke.
The door swung open and smoke billowed into the hall. Andrew Jenkins, wearing the conductor’s jacket, thrust his pistol into the blanket of smoke. He fired two quick shots. Marcus charged and hit Jenkins hard, pushing him backwards into the door across the hall. He bounced and hit the floor with a thud, knocking the wind from his lungs. Alicia dove beneath the smoke, rolling into the hall in the opposite direction from Jenkins.
Jenkins grabbed her leg and pointed the pistol at her head. “Back off!” Jenkins stood. “I’ll kill her on the spot! Give me the flash drive and the spear. Do it now!”