The Einstein Equation

28 Terror Train

On the trans-Siberian flash train, the delegates made themselves at home. The two-day trip promised all luxuries equal to any lavish hotel in the world, except for the swimming pool privileges nobody would appreciate in the Russian autumn anyway. Each large compartment was decked out with a queen sized bed, mini bar, en suite bathroom and heat.

The announcement was made that, due to the nature of the train’s construction, there would be no cellular or internet connections until the town of Tyumen.

“Tuft really went all out with the interiors, I must say,” McFadden grinned jealously. He was clutching his champagne glass and studying the interior decoration of the train, with Wolf beside him. Tuft joined them soon after. He looked focused, but relaxed.

“Heard from Zelda Bessler yet?” he asked Wolf.

“Nyet,” Wolf answered, shaking his head. “But she says that Jacobs fled Brussels after we took Olga. The goddamn coward probably thought he was next… had to get out. The best part is that he thinks that his leaving with his work leaves us empty.”

“Yes, I know,” the repulsive American grinned. “Maybe he is trying to be a hero and coming to rescue her.” They kept their laughter restrained to fit their image with the international council members McFadden asked Wolf, “Where is she, by the way?”

“Where do you think?” Wolf scoffed. “He is not a fool. He will know where to look.”

Tuft did not like the odds. Dr. Jacobs was a very sharp man, even though he was exceptionally naïve. He did not doubt that a scientist of his conviction would at least attempt to come after his girlfriend.

“As soon as we disembark at Tyumen, the project will be in full swing,” Tuft told the other two men. “By that time we must have Kasper Jacobs on this train, so that he can perish with the rest of the delegates. The dimensions he created for the vessel is calculated on the weight of this train, minus the collective weight of yourselves, myself and Bessler.”

“Where is she?” McFadden asked, looking around, but finding her absent form the large summit party.

“She is in the control booth of the train, waiting for the data Hurst owes us,” Tuft reported as softly as he could. “As soon as we get the rest of the equation, the project is locked. We leave during the stop at Tyumen, while the delegates are inspecting the town’s power reactor and having their senseless report lecture.” Wolf was scanning the guests on the train while Tuft laid out the plan for the perpetually uninformed McFadden. “By the time the train has continued on to the next town, they should notice that we have left… and that would be too late.”

“And you want Jacobs on the train with the symposium members,” McFadden clarified.

“That is right,” Tuft affirmed. “He knows everything and he was going to defect. God knows what would happen to our hard work if he leaked what we are working on.”

“Absolutely,” McFadden agreed. He turned his back slightly on Wolf to speak to Tuft under his breath. Wolf excused himself to run a security sweep of the delegates’ dining car. McFadden led Tuft aside.

“I know this might be the wrong time, but when will I be getting my…” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “grant for the second stage? I cleared off the opposition in Oban for you, so I can carry the motion to establish one of your reactors there.”

“You need more money already?” Tuft frowned. “I already backed your election and deposited the first eight million Euro into your offshore account.”

McFadden shrugged, looking terribly embarrassed. “I just want to consolidate my interests in Singapore and Norway, you know, just in case.”

“Just in case what?” Tuft asked impatiently.

“It is an uncertain political climate. I just need some insurance. A safety net,” McFadden groveled.

“McFadden, you will get paid when this project is completed. Only once the global decision makers of the NPT countries and the I.A.E.A. people come to a tragic end in Novosibirsk, their respective cabinets will have no choice but to appoint their successors,” Tuft explained. “All the current deputy presidents and ministerial candidates are members of the Black Sun. Once they are sworn in, we will have monopoly and only then, you will receive your second installment as a covert representative of the Order.”

“So, you are going to cause this train to derail?” McFadden pried. He was of so little consequence to Tuft and his big picture that he was not worth telling. Still, the more McFadden knew, the more he had to lose and that would tighten Tuft’s grip on his balls. Tuft put his arm around the insignificant judge and mayor.

“Outside Novosibirsk, on the other side of it, at the end of this railway track, is a massive mountainous structure Wolf’s associates have constructed,” Tuft explained in a most patronizing manner, since the mayor of Oban was a complete layman. “It is made of stone and ice, but inside it is an enormous pod that will harness and contain the immeasurable atomic energy created by the rip in the barrier. That capacitor will hold the generated energy.”

“Like a reactor,” McFadden guessed.

Tuft sighed. “Yes, like that. We have established pods like that in several countries all over the world. All we need is an extremely heavy object hurtling at an astounding speed to tear that barrier. Once we see what atomic power this train crash causes, we will know where and how to adjust the next fleet of vessels accordingly, for optimal efficiency.”

“Will they have passengers too?” McFadden asked curiously.

Wolf came up behind him and smirked, “No, only this one.”

In the back of the second carriage, the three stowaways waited for after dinner, so that they could start looking for Olga. It was very late already, but the overindulged guests were spending extra time drinking after dinner.

“I am freezing,” Nina complained in a quivering whisper. “Do you think we can get something warm to drink?”

Kasper was peeking around the door every few minutes. He was so focused on finding Olga that he felt no cold or hunger, but he could understand that the pretty historian was beginning to get chilly. Sam rubbed his hands together. “I have to find Dima, our Bratva man. I am sure he can get us something.”

“I will go get him,” Kasper offered.

“No!” Sam exclaimed, holding his hand out. “They know your face, Kasper. Are you insane? I will go.”

Sam left to find Dima, the fake conductor infiltrating the train with them. He found him in the second galley, sticking his finger in the Stroganoff behind the chef’s back. The entire staff were unaware of what was planned for the train. They assumed Sam was a very dressed-down guest.

“Hey man, can we get a flask of coffee?” Sam asked Dima.

The Bratva foot soldier scoffed. “This is Russia. Vodka makes warmer than coffee.”

An eruption of laughter among the chefs and waiters made Sam smile. “Aye, but coffee keeps you awake.”

“That is what woman is for,” Dima winked. Again, the staff howled in laughter and agreement. From nowhere, Wolf Kretchoff appeared through the opposing door, sending everyone into silence as they returned to their chores. It was too quick for Sam to escape out the other side, and he noticed that Wolf had seen him. In all his years as investigative journalism, he had learned not to panic before the first bullet flew. Sam watched the monstrous thug walk toward him with his crewcut and icy eyes.

“Who are you?” he asked Sam.

“Press,” Sam answered quickly.

“Where is your pass?” Wolf wanted to know.

“In our delegate’s room,” Sam replied, making it look as if Wolf was supposed to know the protocol.

“Which country?”

“United Kingdom,” Sam said with confidence, while his eyes pierced through the brute he could not wait to meet alone somewhere on the train. His heart jumped as he and Wolf stared each other down, but Sam felt not an iota of fear, only hate. “Why is your galley not equipped to serve coffee readily, Mr. Kretchoff? This is supposed to be a luxury train.”

“You work for media or do you work for a woman’s magazine, rating service?” Wolf ridiculed Sam, while only the clatter of knives and pots could be heard around the two men.

“If I did, you would not get a good review,” Sam snapped plainly.

Dima stood at the stove, arms folded, watching the scenario. He was ordered to usher Sam and his friends safely along the Siberian landscape, but not to interfere and blow his cover. Still, he despised Wolf Kretchoff, as they all did in his chapter. Finally, Wolf just turned and walked toward the door where Dima was standing. Once he was out, and everyone relaxed, Dima looked at Sam, exhaling in great relief. “Now you want vodka?”

After everyone had retired, only the narrow corridor lights illuminated the train. Kasper was rearing to go and Sam was strapping on one of his new favorites — a rubber collar with a mounted camera he used for diving, but Purdue had improved it for him. It would stream whatever footage it recorded to an independent server Purdue had set up just for this purpose. At the same time, it saved recorded footage on a miniscule memory card. This avoided Sam getting caught filming where he should not.

Nina was designated to guard the nest, communicating with Sam via a tablet linked to his watch. Kasper watched all the synching and linking, fitting and preparation while the train hummed softly along. He shook his head. “Geez, you two are like MI6 characters.”

Sam and Nina chuckled and looked at each other with a naughty amusement. Nina whispered, “That remark is more uncanny than you think, Kasper.”

“Alright, I will search the engine room and front and you do the carriages and galleys, Kasper,” Sam delegated. Kasper did not care what side of the train he had to start searching, as long as they found Olga. With Nina guarding their makeshift base, Sam and Kasper proceeded forward until they reached the first carriage, from where they split up.

Sam crept past the compartments in the hum of the gliding train. He did not like the idea of tracks not clacking to that hypnotic rhythm of old when the steel wheels still caught the joints in tracks. When he reached the dining room he noticed that, two sections up, a faint light was coming from the double doors.

‘The engine room. Could she be there?’ he wondered as he proceeded. His skin was ice cold even under his clothing, which was strange, since the entire train had climate control in place. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or maybe it was the prospect of finding Olga dead that gave Sam chills.

With great stealth, Sam unlocked and passed the first door, entering the Staff Only section just before the engine. It puffed like an old steamer and Sam found it oddly soothing. He heard voices in the engine room, which stimulated his natural instinct to investigate.

“Please, Zelda, you cannot be so negative,” Tuft told the woman in the control room. Sam set his camera to another capture setting to optimize visibility and sound.

“She is taking too long,” Bessler complained. “Hurst is supposed to be one of our best, and here we are, onboard, and she still has to send the last few digits.”

“Remember, she told us that Purdue was completing it as we speak,” Tuft said. “We are almost at Tyumen. Then we can get off and watch from a distance. As long as you set the acceleration to hypersonic after the group gets back on, we can manipulate the rest.”

“No, we cannot, Clifton!” she hissed. “That is precisely the point. Until Hurst sends me the last variable solution, I cannot program the speed. What happens if we cannot set the acceleration before they all get back on for the bad stretch? Do we just give them a nice train ride to Novosibirsk? Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

Sam caught his breath in the dark. ‘Acceleration to hypersonic speed? Jesus Christ, that will kill everyone, not to mention the nature of the impact once we run out of tracks!’ his inner voice warned. Masters was right after all, Sam thought. He hurried back to the back of the train, speaking on the com device. “Nina. Kasper,” he whispered. “We have to find Olga now! If we are still on this train after Tyumen, we are fucked.”