19
CASSANDRA
“You can’t honestly be serious.”
“I know how it sounds…”
I stood so we were face-to-face. “That’s a stupid idea!”
“You’re right. It is.”
“That’s some Scooby-Doo style idiocy.”
“I know…” he said weakly.
“Do you? Do you know that?” I was being a bitch to him, but he needed to hear it right then. “Tell me you know this isn’t some wacky Scooby-Doo caper we’re in right now. Say the words, so I know you understand.”
Orlando put a hand on my arm. “Cassie. I’m all ears if you have a better idea.”
I crossed my arms. “You can’t dress up as him. They’ll figure it out. And then they’ll shoot you dead. Bang, no more Orlando the Magical Gryphon.”
But he was shaking his head, and there was a sparkle in his dark eyes.
“See, I’m not so sure. The others are European. You’ve heard the accents.” He pointed at the unconscious body on the bed. “This guy’s local. I’m guessing he was hired at the last minute to round out their crew. I doubt they know him very well.”
The view outside the window changed rapidly; suddenly there was a flat platform very close to the train, zooming by with almost reckless speed. Confused passengers pointed at the train, a pantomimed silent movie playing outside the window.
“There goes my stop,” I muttered.
“Can you really call it a stop if we don’t actually stop there?” Orlando said with a grin.
“This isn’t a good time for jokes.”
The platform dropped away as the train moved beyond, and then was replaced by a flurry of flashing police lights. The sound of sirens blared by, distorted by our speed. And then they were gone as quickly as they’d appeared, and there was only the terrain around the tracks by itself.
“Looks like the hijacking hasn’t gone unnoticed,” I muttered.
“All the more reason to do something. The dragon’s running out of time. He’s going to get desperate.”
I rounded on him again. “So what’s your plan, then? Dress up as one of them, get close to the others, and then what? Shoot them? Blast them away like a gangster?” I scoffed for dramatic effect. “Orlando, I can feel your discomfort at simply holding that gun. You’re a bundle of raw nerves right now.”
He flinched at my words, then recovered. “You can stay here with the totem. I’ll tell the others that I didn’t find anything in my search.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them and took Orlando’s hand. “I looked into the dragon’s eyes. I don’t think he’s the kind of man who will give up so easily. He’ll probably resort to searching the entire train himself. Or worse.”
As if on cue, the walkie-talkie squawked on the bed. “James. How goes your search up there?”
The lack of response told us that the unconscious man on the bed was James. I grabbed the walkie-talkie and shoved it at Orlando, and he took it hesitantly.
“Slow going. I’m being thorough.”
We stared at one another, waiting to see if it worked. The others sounded garbled through the speaker, so hopefully Orlando did too.
Finally, a response: “Well hurry it up. Boss is getting anxious.”
We both let out a mutual exhale.
“See, you’re a nervous wreck just talking to them,” I said. “I’m not doubting your courage, Orlando. I can feel it inside you. I just don’t think disguising you will work.”
“Okay…” he said. “Again: what ideas do you have?”
I spread my hands. “What about… doing what he wants? Handing over the totem?”
Still in its hiding place underneath the sink, the totem flared with anger. It was like a high-pitched buzzing in my ear, staggering me into the compartment wall. Orlando helped steady me, and slowly the buzzing dimmed.
“That’s not going to work,” he said. “Not just because the totem won’t allow it, but because it would destroy any chance we have.”
“Destroy any chance of what?”
He reached around for the word. “I don’t know. But I can feel that the totem is important. Everything we do, our abilities and fighting the dragons, has some greater purpose. We can’t just give it to him.”
“Even if it means dying instead?” I said, voice barely more than a whisper.
His gaze held mine for three heartbeats, and I saw the seriousness within. “Even if it means dying.”
“Hrmmph…”
We both jerked our heads to the bed, where the captured hijacker was waking up. His eyes fluttered, then peered down at the gag in his mouth muffling his voice. Realization slowly spread across his face.
“Let’s get more information before we do anything stupid,” I said to Orlando. Then I leaned on the bed and put my face very close to the captured hijacker’s. “How’s it going, buddy? We have some questions for you. Answer them honestly, or my friend here uses you for target practice. And even though he’s a bad shot, it’s tough to miss from two feet away. Nod if you understand.”
The man, James, bobbed his head in a fearful nod.
“No loud noises,” I warned before removing the cloth gag.
He licked his dark lips and looked from me, to Orlando, then back to me. “Please don’t hurt me,” he begged, words coming out in a rush. “I don’t know anything. Just a yes-man for the whole thing, you gotta believe…”
“Shh.” I pressed my finger to his lips. “That’s enough of that. So you don’t know the leader?”
He panted for a few moments before nodding. “I know his name’s Sebastian. I know he’s looking for something. A priceless relic, to put in a museum or something. That’s all he told us, along with the description: it’s made of stone…”
“We know all that,” Orlando said. “What was the plan? What were you supposed to do when you found it?”
“Your exit strategy,” I offered.
“Yeah, yeah,” James said. Sweat was beading on his dark face. “Plan was to stop the train before Joliet, switch to a getaway car stashed off the tracks. We’d be hours away before anyone ever came to check on the train. Amtrak’s budget isn’t exactly top-notch these days, right?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Hate to break it to ya, but we just passed Joliet. Your plan’s fucked.”
James’s lips drew tight together, and he moaned with fear. “Dude told us he had a backup in case it took longer, but he didn’t say what…”
Orlando leaned in and jabbed the Uzi in his direction. I struggled not to laugh; it looked totally unnatural in his hand.
“Why can’t we use our phones?” he asked.
“Jammers,” James said. “Two of ‘em: one in the engine, the other in the back, for coverage. Only allow certain frequencies, like the walkies.”
“Is there any other way to contact someone outside the train?” I asked.
“Not without disabling the jammers. And both places, the engine room and the rear storage locker, are locked tight. Sebastian’s got a key to both.”
“Who’s driving the train?” Orlando asked.
“Nobody. Conductor’s tied up in the first sleeper room, and the throttle’s set to one speed. We’ve got a long length of straight track to work with. Though if we’re already past Joliet…” He moaned some more.
Orlando and I shared a look. This was quickly getting out of hand.
“Knew this was a bad job. Others were worried too. Always gotta trust my gut…”
I gave a start. “Wait. The others were worried too?”
“Yeah…?”
“So the other men don’t know Sebastian either?”
James shook his head, which made the entire bed wobble. “Naw. None of them do. Only met each other right before the meet-up outside the train. They were wondering why this guy would pay so much for the gig…”
“But they all have the same Italian accent,” Orlando said. “We assumed that meant they were together.”
“The fuck you asking me for? I’m telling you what I know.”
Okay. This was good. We had some information to work with.
“What else can you tell us about him?” I asked.
“Rich asshole who came outta nowhere. Friend of a friend said he was looking for a crew for a job.” I stared at him silently, which pulled more words from his mouth. “Uhh, we were told it would be quick. Smash and grab. Nothing about hurting nobody.”
Before I could ask another question, Orlando leaned forward. I thought he was going to attack James, but he was just leaning over him to look out the window, tilting his face up toward the sky.
“Whelp. Things are getting serious.”
James protested as I climbed over his restrained body to look myself. High in the sky above the train were three helicopters: two police, and one smaller like a news crew. They appeared to be stationary in the sky, which meant they were following our train.
We crawled off the bed and Orlando said, “Maybe the police will take care of this for us.”
“Or maybe,” I said, “Sebastian will get more desperate.” James bobbed his head in silent agreement.
As if on cue, the walkie-talkie barked to life in Orlando’s hand. Three pairs of eyes swung toward it.
“James?” came Sebastian’s accented voice, slow and precise. “Gather all the passengers from the sleeper rooms and meet us in the observation car. The time has come to stop being polite.”
Orlando hesitated, put the receiver to his mouth, and said, “Roger that,” in a formal tone.
“Oh man,” James moaned at me. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you earlier. My mother didn’t raise me to be like that, but you put on a mask and become a different person, you know? I didn’t want any of this, just a quick job on a train, easy as pie he said, and…”
I grabbed the gag and tied it back around his mouth to shut him up.
“So are we going to try my plan now?” Orlando asked.
I closed my eyes. “There has to be another way. Something else we can do. What else do we know about the dragon?”
Orlando shrugged. “I was banged on the head when they first appeared. All I know is what you two have told me.”
“What about what your friends told you?”
“I mean, Ethan said they’re angry. Which is already obvious.” He stared off. “Umm. We don’t know how their shifting works, but they can be goaded into it. If they’re surprised, or enraged. Ethan said it’s a conscious effort for them to hold the dragon back, like a rabid dog on a leash.”
The walkie-talkie barked: “James, what’s taking so long? Boss is losing his patience…”
Orlando ignored it. “But that doesn’t matter, because we don’t want him shifting into a dragon.”
James made a funny noise behind his gag at the mention of dragons.
I blinked with surprise. Orlando looked a question at me, and my mouth hung open for a long moment.
“What if we do?” I said.