We moved fast.
I strapped Leo tight against my chest in the carrier, throwing my trench coat over him to hide his face. Caleb took point, moving down the swaying corridor with a stolen keycard in hand.
"Three cars to go," Caleb whispered. "Dining car. Passenger coach. Then Cargo."
We slipped through the sliding doors between cars. The wind roared in the gap, freezing and loud.
Whoosh-Clack-Whoosh.
We made it through the dining car unnoticed (everyone was asleep or drunk). But as we entered the last passenger coach, my luck ran out.
A man was standing at the far end of the aisle. He wasn't wearing a conductor’s uniform. He wore a tactical vest over a flannel shirt.
He saw us. He tapped his earpiece.
"Contact," he said, reaching for a weapon.
"Run!" Caleb shouted.
The Cha
