Chapter 76 - The Freight of Shadows
The diesel engine coughed, backfiring with a concussive blast that shook soot from the tunnel ceiling, and then roared to life with the fury of a caged beast.
The heavy steel wheels spun on the icy rails, screeching with deafening intensity and spitting showers of sparks against the tunnel walls. The snowplow train shuddered violently, then lunged forward, gathering speed as gravity dragged its twenty-ton iron frame down the steep, downward grade.
Bullets peppered the cab's bulletproof glass, spider-webbing the thick panes into opaque white mosaics. Outside, the tactical operatives scattered as the massive steel wedge on the front of our locomotive bore down on them, smashing through abandoned tool carts and wooden scaffolding like kindling.
"We're accelerating too fast!" Clara shouted, bracing Lily against her chest in the small corner behind the boiler. The speedometer needle was swinging past sixty, then seventy miles per hour, rocking wildly on the uneven rails.
"The grade drops into the Saint-Gothard gorge!" I yelled back, fighting the heavy brake wheel. "The pneumatic line is half-frozen! I can only slow us down by twenty percent!"
Suddenly, a heavy thud landed on the roof of the cab.
Clara looked up, her face draining of color. "Julian... someone dropped from the tunnel ventilation shaft."
The roof hatch shuddered. The locking bolts began to screech as an electric rotary saw cut through the metal, throwing a blinding shower of molten sparks into the cabin. Through the widening gap, the black-visored helmet of a Council strike-team commando appeared.
"Julian!" Clara screamed.
I grabbed the floral handbag. The thick, reinforced braided strap was fastened with heavy brass carabiners. In one fluid motion, I unclipped the strap, wrapped it around my knuckles, and lunged upward toward the hatch just as the commando dropped through.
The man landed on the cab floor with his combat shotgun raised. I didn't give him the chance to level the barrel. I whipped the heavy brass buckle across his visor, shattering the polarized faceplate. He staggered back with a curse, his shotgun discharging into the steel floor, blowing a hole through the floorboards into the rushing track bed below.
Clara moved with savage instinct. Despite her injured shoulder, she grabbed a heavy brass spanner from the tool rack and drove it into the operative's knee joint. The man collapsed with a howl of pain.
I wrapped the handbag's reinforced strap around his neck, using the leverage of the cab's handrail to pin him against the iron wall.
"Who gave the order to execute Lily?" I snarled into his shattered visor. "Who is the Grand Chancellor?"
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Blood bubbled from the operative's lips beneath the cracked mask. He let out a wet, mocking laugh. "You... you still think he's dead... Julian. Look in the mirror... you fool..."
Before I could demand another word, the train burst from the black throat of the tunnel into the blinding glare of the Alpine dawn.
