The gunman’s head snapped forward, and the pistol flew from his hand. He fell into the cabin, hitting the table and splaying on the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
Behind him, Joe Zavala stood in the doorway with a piece of cabinetry in his hands.
Kurt snatched up the black pistol. “Way to make an entrance.”
Joe grinned. “What I do, I like to do in style.”
The leader was out cold, the other two assailants were moving but not interested in any more combat. They hadn’t expected to take a beating, and now that they were outnumbered and outgunned, they seemed more interested in surrender.
Kurt pulled the mask off the leader. “Anyone recognize this face?”
Joe shook his head, Hayley did likewise. “Never seen him before,” she said.
“I figure they’re not our friends from the flooded mine,” Kurt replied.
“What makes you say that?”
“The fact that we’re still conscious,” he said.
A radio began to squawk in the downed leader’s pocket. “What’s the delay? We heard shooting. Do you need assistance?”
This time, Kurt thought he recognized the accent. “Russians?”
“That’s what it sounded like to me,” Joe said.
“What are they doing mixed up in this?”
“No idea,” Joe said. “But I saw another group of them heading to the back, where the caboose would be if this train had one.”
“And at least two more outside,” Kurt said.
Kurt aimed the pistol at the man with the busted face. “How many friends did you bring to this party?”
The man answered slowly. “Eight or nine in the truck. I didn’t count ’em.”
Kurt pointed to the Russian. “How many like him, the guys who did the hiring?”
“There were four of them.”
Kurt looked up. “That means at least three more with guns.”
“And plenty of muscle to do the heavy lifting,” Joe added.
“We have to get out of here,” Hayley said.
Joe nodded. “The lady is a rocket scientist. We should probably listen to her.”
Kurt couldn’t have agreed more, but how and to where? Going on foot into the outback wasn’t going to get them very far.
The radio squawked again. “Victor, respond. What’s happening?”
Kurt grabbed the radio and pressed the talk switch. “Victor’s not available right now, mostly because he’s taking an unintended nap. But please stand by, your call is important to us.”
“What are you doing?” Hayley asked, her eyes all but bugging out of her head. “Now they know we’re here.”
“They already know we’re here,” Kurt said. “Thanks to Joe, we took the first round. Time to go on the offensive, at least enough to throw a little doubt into their minds.”
The radio crackled. “Screw with us, and you’re going to regret it,” the voice growled.
“We’ll see about that,” Kurt replied. “Just so you know, I have your friend Victor’s gun, and, unlike him, I don’t miss what I shoot at.”
Kurt figured that would give them something to worry about. He stepped outside and checked the corridor. Seeing it was clear, he motioned for Joe and Hayley to follow.
He figured the group that went to the back of the train was now headed forward at double speed. He had a plan to slow them down. Making a few threats was the first step, finding the breaker panel at the front of the car was the second. He flipped it open just as the radio came to life again.
“Leave the woman, and you get to live.”
Kurt put his hand to the car’s master switch and spoke into the radio once more. “You want her,” he said, “then come and get her.”
With that, he flipped the switch, cutting power and plunging the fifty-foot car into darkness. A wave of muffled shouts came from the passengers.
Kurt ignored them and continued to the forward door, not hesitating for even a second. He pulled the door open and stepped through. Joe and Hayley followed. And all three stood in the gap between the cars out on the coupler.
“I hope you have a plan,” Joe said.
“Don’t I always?”
“I’m not sure you want me to answer that right now.”
Kurt studied the metal plating that covered the knuckle-shaped coupler below them. Next, he looked up, glancing through the dusty window into the railcar ahead of them.
It was an observation car. Warmly lit, half full. The passengers inside were hunkered down in various places, hands on their heads, too scared to move. At the far end, he saw two more of the hijackers.
“Check the sides.”
Joe and Hayley peaked around the edges of the car, looking backward.
“Our friend is still out there,” Hayley said. “He’s got a partner now. They seem to be ambling this way.”
“There’s a guy on this side too,” Joe said, “also coming forward. Probably moving in lockstep with the men inside.”
“Which means my plan is mostly working.”
Joe’s eyebrows went up. “Mostly working? We’re almost surrounded.”
“Exactly,” Kurt said.
Joe looked confused. “I’m not sure I want to know what total success looks like.”
“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.