“You were lucky,” Russell scoffed. “Regulations require an escort when our equipment is transported by civilian carriers, but it’s just a preventative measure. If the crazies know that there are soldiers guarding the trucks, they’ll think twice about hijacking them. Never in my wildest dreams did I believe someone would actually try.”
Kismet thought the officer’s manner seemed more irritated than confrontational. “I don’t think your cargo had anything to do with this.”
“No, I suppose not.” Russell put his hands on his hips and sighed. “That bunch in the pickup lighted off like jack rabbits when they got a look at us. Local law enforcement is tracking them down now. Probably not part of any organized group — the local Klan chapter was quick to deny any involvement and I am inclined to believe them.”
“Does it matter?”
Russell actually laughed. “More than you might think. If this was an organized attack, and not a bunch of rowdies jacked up on meth and moonshine, then it’s domestic terrorism, and that means we break out a can of bureaucratic alphabet soup.”
“It wasn’t just ‘rowdies.’”
“That’s what your friends said.”
Kismet tried unsuccessfully not to frown. What exactly had Higgins and Annie told this man? Had they mentioned the goal of their quest? Their protestations of innocence would surely be undermined by the revelation that they were really nothing more than treasure hunters. He tried changing the subject. “Can I see them?”
Russell crossed his arms over his chest, his expression at once perturbed and thoughtful. “I guess that depends on whether you can give me one good reason not to simply turn you over to Homeland Security. I’d just as soon do that, and let them sort this mess out.”
“I don’t know what more I can add.” Kismet was choosing his words carefully, but at the same time trying to avoid sounding evasive. “My friends and I are looking for something…call it a historical research project. There’s a man out there named John Leeds who wants to beat us to it. We were in the middle of an interview with someone when Leeds and this bunch of ‘rowdies’ drove up and tried to kill us. We ran into the woods and saw the train. They followed. End of story.”
Russell didn’t seem remotely convinced, but he didn’t turn away. “Tell me more about this project you’re working on. If this Leeds fellow is willing to kill, it must be…what, worth a lot of money? Or is it something else?”
Kismet couldn’t tell if Russell was sincere. As both a former army intelligence officer and an attorney, he knew a little about interrogations and leading questions. But it wasn’t like there was any trap to fall into; Leeds was the bad guy, they’d done nothing wrong, and if push came to shove, he’d argue that in court, never mind how preposterous it sounded. But Kismet didn’t really get the sense that the major was trying to trick him. Maybe he really didn’t know; perhaps Higgins and Annie had discreetly stayed mum regarding the more fantastic aspects of their mission. He was still trying to figure out how to explain it when Russell’s expression abruptly hardened.
The officer frowned as he took a mobile phone from his pocket and glanced at the illuminated display. “Excuse me,” he said, and then stepped down from the locomotive and retreated several paces away before taking the call.
Kismet could hear the major’s voice and make out a few words — he distinctly heard the man say “yes sir” several times — but the topic of the conversation remained a mystery.
At length, Russell lowered the phone and dropped it back in his pocket with an almost quizzical expression. He addressed the soldiers who had been holding Kismet at gun point, ordering them to stand down then he turned to Kismet. “Let’s go find your friends.”
Alex Higgins was still trying to process the abrupt change in the demeanor of the soldiers who had been guarding them when he saw Kismet and Major Russell enter the car.
For two hours, he and Annie had been held at gunpoint, separated at different ends of the decades old steerage class passenger coach. Russell had interrogated them each in turn, relentlessly asking the same questions over and over again. For his part, Higgins had kept his answers short, cautious about revealing too much information, and resisting the impulse to ask about Kismet. He knew his daughter well enough to believe that she would do the same. Though obviously dissatisfied with their answers, the officer had eventually left the car, with he and Annie still sequestered.
Then, in response to a radioed message, everything had changed. The soldiers had relaxed their guard and allowed them to sit together, and a few moments later, Kismet appeared looking considerably worse for wear, but moving freely, without any sign of duress.
Annie burst from her seat and threw her arms around him. Kismet winced but gamely returned the embrace. Higgins too rose to greet him, but felt a surge of anxiety at the sudden shift in mood. Something about the whole situation bothered him.
Kismet looked to Russell. “Are you letting us go?”
The major turned away for a moment to converse with another soldier, but then gestured for the three to sit. “You’re not in custody,” he began. “Of course there are still a lot of questions to be answered, but no one thinks you’ve done anything wrong.”
A long line of soldiers began filing into the car.
“Are we leaving?” Higgins asked.
Russell nodded. “I’ve been ordered to get this train to its destination, ASAP.”
“So much for a ten-mile long crime scene,” Kismet muttered. “By the way, I lost my Glock somewhere between here and where we got on. Might be…ah, something else on the tracks too.”
“Something else?”
“Something or someone.”
“Shit.” Russell rubbed the bridge of his nose as if trying to ward off a migraine, then shook his head. “Someone else’s problem now.”
“But you’re taking us along?” Annie said.
Russell’s stare remained fixed on Kismet. “It seems this man, Leeds, has attracted some attention at the highest levels. He’s a person of interest in a crime spree that occurred in New York’s Central Part a couple days ago…”
Annie broke into a coughing fit.
“And there are a few other red flags associated with him. He’s got indirect ties to a number of hate groups. Homeland believes he might be involved in some kind of terror plot. And obviously, he’s targeted the three of you.”
“So when we get where we’re going, you’ll hand us off to Homeland Security?” Kismet asked.
Russell drummed his fingers on his knee. “You work for the United Nations, right? It would appear that affords you a rather unique status. A sort of diplomatic immunity.”
Kismet frowned suspiciously. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”
“Be that as it may, someone above my pay grade has made it clear that I am not to interfere with you, or whatever it is you are doing, in any way. You are, to put it simply, free to go. In fact, if you really want to, you can hop right off this train and go on your merry way.”
“Leeds is still out there,” Annie intoned. “Still after us.”
“Is that the plan?” Kismet pressed. “Cut us loose in order to draw Leeds into the open?”
Russell managed a wry grin. “That possibility was discussed. However, my orders are to give you safe escort…to wherever it is you are going, and for as long as you need it.”
Higgins kept a stony expression and watched carefully as Kismet digested the major’s statement. Did Russell know what they were looking for? Did the offer hide some ulterior motive — an attempt by the government to seize control of the Fountain of Youth, if it existed to be found? Or was there some other player at work?