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“Complete encirclement,” Kurt explained. He glanced forward into the lighted Pullman car once again. “Finally,” he whispered, “a couple of heavies, coming this way.”
The approaching thugs moved slowly, checking each row of seats to make sure Kurt and Hayley weren’t among the passengers in the car.
“Congratulations,” Joe whispered. “You’ve now graduated from the General Custer School of Tactical Brilliance.”
Kurt smiled, reached over, and gently opened a trapdoor in the floor plating. The gravel and railroad ties of the railbed could be seen through the opening. “If Custer knew what I did,
he’d have tunneled under Sitting Bull and popped up behind him. Crawl forward, quick and quiet.”
“And then what?”
“And then we hijack the train. Or rehijack it, I should say.”
“Hijack the hijackers?” Joe said. “Now you’re talking my language.”
Joe went down first, Hayley followed. Kurt squeezed his way through behind them, gently lowering the metal plate once he’d climbed down. He’d only crawled a foot or two when the door opened above him.
He held still as heavy footfalls scuffed and clunked on the decking.
The thugs were hesitating, either waiting for directions or a signal to make a coordinated attack.
“We’re in position,” a voice said.
Kurt’s hand went to the radio to cover it, but no sound came forth. The hijackers had switched channels to keep him from hearing their plans.
“Move in,” a tinny voice replied. “And make it fast. We’re running out of time.”
Through a narrow gap in the plating Kurt saw the door to the darkened railcar open and watched as the men entered. As soon as they did, Kurt began to move, scrambling forward on his forearms and knees, moving like a lizard on its belly. There were twenty-four inches of clearance between the axles of the cars and the track bed. It wasn’t much headroom, but enough to make the escape work.
Enveloped by the smell of oil, dust, and creosote, as the sharp edges of the gravel stones dug into his knees and elbows, Kurt moved with all possible haste.
He worried mostly that the men on the ground would spot him, but he needn’t have been concerned. The light spilling from the other railcars was bright enough to affect their night vision. From their vantage point, looking into the dark space beneath the train was like gazing into a black hole.
Kurt made it past the two bogies on which the Pullman-type car’s wheels rested, continued forward under the next car, and caught up to Joe and Hayley. She was struggling.
“Not exactly enjoying this part of the trip,” she said.
“At least you fit under here,” Kurt said. “This is a little tight for me. And considering the size of Joe’s head, I’m not sure how he’s avoided knocking himself out yet.”
Joe chuckled. They kept going and quickly reached the aft of the two diesel engines.
“Afraid we’ve run into a roadblock,” Joe said.
Kurt looked past them. There was much less clearance under the engine than under the passenger cars.
“These modern engines have the electric motors down on the wheels,” Joe explained, pointing. “The gearing too. Not to mention the fuel tank in the middle, and probably a cowcatcher up front.”
“You sure we can’t squeeze by?”
“Not a chance.”
Kurt frowned. If they couldn’t go under, they would have to go over or around. “If you were a hijacker in a locomotive, what would you be watching?”
“The engineer,” Joe said.
Kurt’s eyebrows went up. “My thoughts exactly.”
“What are you going to do?” Hayley asked.
