Atticus, Nasrin, Tay, and Rook perched just outside of the melee, trying to sense the patterns emerging there. They'd just spotted Moot and Ferris in the crowd with some dismay, concerned they might become enmeshed in the imminent danger encircling the scene below. Noticeably absent was Obi Wan, but the students weren't so naive as to think they'd shaken him.

"Holy...!" Atticus drew a sudden breath and passed his binoculars to Rook.

"Shit!" Rook exclaimed as he peered through the lenses. "It's Valentine. Why is Valentine here??"

Nasrin and Tay exchanged glances. As Nasrin turned her head back toward the crowded lawn, she suddenly caught a quick, metallic flash of sun on metal, coming from an adjacent wooded area. She signaled to Tay, and began silently moving toward the site of the flash, alone.

The sight of Valentine made Rook extremely uneasy. Something big was about to go down, and he wasn't in on the plan. No less than three MASK senior leaders were here, along with two mid-level admins. Christ, the only one missing was Knight! How am I supposed to bring this TIA exercise (Training In Action) home, he wondered silently?

The man sighed. It had seemed like they had walked for MONTHS through the dense forest that surrounded the isolated Chautauqua Institution, but now they had emerged from a gorge beneath the 19th century library. The woman had kept up with him. She had crawled with him under the train. She had scaled the chain link fence, over the razor ribbon, and as silently landed in the village trash dump with him. She had immobilized the junkyard dogs for him. She had ridden in the compactor of the garbage truck he had hot-wired and drove while he bluffed his way through the predawn FBI gauntlet. And she had not complained. He was impressed with her. Natasha, sighed with relief. They had hiked for several miles around the ring of FBI and local law enforcement that ringed the Atheneum Hotel. But now they had scaled the slate and shale culvert under the library and were inside the service section of the Atheneum. She picked the lock on the linen storage closet and they had both changed into staff uniforms, she as a maid; he as a custodian. As she sat and stretched her back as she watched him assemble the SIG-Sauer SSG 300 with a rail M1913 sighting system and suppressor nearly two feet long. The SIG-Sauer was an accurate sniper rifle. She knew he would follow the predetermined plan and her daughter would be far away when 7.62 x 51 mm caliber shells hurled through the air and tore into flesh and bone.

Moot and Ferris landed and stretched their legs.

"What's with all the media?" Ferris asked. Satellite trucks were parked around the perimeter of the hotel, impromptu setups of broadcast lights peppered the sidewalks and lawn leading to the nineteenth century behemoth of a building. Sprayed and cosmetically enhanced field reporters stood, microphones in hand, talking to no one and everyone.

"Something big must've happened..." replied Moot tensely. "CNN, NBC, Fox... national media outlets- is that Anderson Cooper?"

As their footsteps grew more urgent, they overheard words like "bomb", "explosive device", "terrorist threat". Love and Madonna stood on the grand antebellum veranda, all but lost in the swirl of ambulance chasing news outlets, attempting desperately to attract a camera lens and offer a comment. Ferris smirked at the spectacle.

He was not smiling. He was not happy. He was not alone. He was crawling, suspended, under the train carriage with a remarkably agile woman.

He did think this was the most interesting assignment he had had for as long as he could remember. First the dogs lie, then the young warrior appeared. His businessman's suit was now in tatters, his clean hands greasy, the millstone around his neck... the woman. He thought about her as he looked past his feet at the woman crawling, with him, hand over greasy hand, towards the locomotive of the train. She was keeping up with him. He was surprised. He liked her. He smiled his smile.

Natasha looked up at him and smiled back.

"Bumblers, all of them." said Rook as he lead the small group over a fence and into the grounds of the exclusive Chautauqua Institution. "They have no idea who they are looking for and why. Trust me, if Obi-Wan got out of the train, he will elude those local-yokels."

Tayanna turned to him and nodded, "That loco is following us... yes, and someone is with him...?"

"How do the dogs know there is someone with him, Tay?" Nasrin asked.

Tayanna did not know how to answer her, mostly because Tayanna knew who that someone was.

"What the... why are we slowing down?" asked Atticus. The four rushed to the window and saw the train conductors gesturing and pointing.

"We're out of here. Pack up!" replied Rook and the group made their way down the hall, now crowded with sleepy, confused passengers, rudely awoken from their pre-dawn dreams.

Tay found the nearest door and pushed the button. "Locked!" She dug a small tool from her bag and shorted the circuit. The door slid open and they jumped down and away from the train car, dogs exiting last.

From the opposite side, they watched a growing crowd gather around the coupling that joined their cabin car to the train. Suddenly, the dogs began growling, their hackles raised and fangs bared.

"The loco is nearby." said Tay after a pause. "They smell his strange smell."

"Loco?" asked Rook.

"Obi Wan." replied Atticus. "He's been tracking us. We don't know why..."

Rook cut him off. "We'll sort that out later. Now, we head due south. Up for four or five miles?" His eyes twinkled. The group set off, due south.

Chip Hunt had been with Amtrak for 17 years, with the LSL for just 5 years. As conductor jobs go, it was among the best in the northeast. Steady schedule, nice scenery, relaxed passengers. He had jobbed around the east coast with Amtrak before he got to the front of the waiting list for the Lake Shore Limited and now he was living the dream. Those crazy Boston-New York-Philly commuters gave him a headache.

He watched a couple walk between cars toward the rear of the train as he moved forward. They were not typical passengers, they were middle aged but she was heavily made up and he was strange looking for a businessman. Scruffy.

As he moved between cars a greasy lump in the coupling caught his eye. He knelt carefully in the rocking vestibule and looked closely. He saw a blinking light under the grease. Chip's blood ran cold. Chip took his radio off his belt and hit the Emergency Call Button. The US Marshall answered immediately. With-in 15 seconds the train was decelerating.

State police and the Buffalo office of the FBI greeted the train as it pulled to a stop on a spur headed toward the sleepy town of Mayville, NY.

Obi Wan crouched in the hall next to the coupling connecting the cars, mumbling and chuckling.

"Did you carefully place the charge?" a heavily accented voice behind him asked sharply.

"Yesyesyesyes..." he responded, turning slightly to gaze up at her face. "Don't worry, no one will be hurt. This will simply stop them from reaching Chautauqua and handing off the data."

Natasha nodded. "Nasrin cannot be endangered. You understand?"

"None will be in danger. Not Nasrin, not the lying dogs, not the witch..." he repeated wearily. How tiresome to work with this one, constantly second-guessing, plotting, full of subterfuge and conniving. "The train will simply stop, so the secrets remain safe."