With These Eyes (23 page)

Still in the farm's loading dock, Isabelle
and her new friend climbed back into the train. Ralf was moving
slowly because of his sprained ankle and took a seat next to the
pilot's station already occupied by Isabelle. It dawned on him that
the tunnel tube was about to open again to regular traffic.

"We'll have to go anyway or we'll lose the
track."

Isabelle had already gotten busy powering up
the train. "Way ahead of you," she said as she pushed the throttle
forward. Isabelle noticed a lot of added torque because the crates
had been offloaded. "What on earth was in those containers?"

Ralf, who was busy trying to get his wet work
boot off the swollen foot responded. "All I heard was that they
were generators, must be for the other fields."

"You'd need a nuclear power plant for that
much energy. Generators would require a lot of fuel, and where
would the exhaust go?"

Ralf reached into his nearby gym-bag and
handed Isabelle a towel. She noticed what a gentleman he was.
Isabelle thanked him with a smile. At the same time at the
beginning of the bridge on the east bay, a switch was directing a
westbound passenger train onto the track Isabelle and Ralf were
about to enter. At the other end of the bridge, Tasha was once
again preparing to end Isabelle's quest for the truth. Isabelle
would have to die at Tasha's own hands to restore her pride as a
warrior. The road/rail maintenance truck gave the commander the
perfect excuse to leave her troops behind. The all-wheel drive
truck was parked about half-way down the far edge of the parking
lot. Her Troopers had swarmed the rail yard and docks of the
island. Tasha heard the voice of one of her Troopers over the
earwig.

"Port secure, Ma'am."

She had reached the vehicle. The truck was an
all-terrain type widely used by forest services and heavy-rescue
crews in Europe. A set of telescoping rail support-wheels was
positioned each in front and back to guide the heavy machine along
railroad tracks. A work arm in the bed of the truck held a
two-person basket for maintenance on overhead power lines. Tasha
reached into a pocket on the outside of her left thigh and pulled
out a device the size of a lighter. A row of round buttons and a
tiny plasma display occupied the sides of the black plastic
cylinder. Tasha turned the device on and within a second, it had
read the vehicle's roadside assistance information and transmitted
unlock and engine-start codes to its electronics. Tasha climbed
into the cab and slammed the door shut. A few members of her
platoon had found their way to her. At the touch of a button, she
rolled down the window and barked.

"I'm going to handle her myself. Secure the
tunnel exit! The rest of you be ready on the other end." She turned
her attention to one of her men who was carrying a digital pad.
"Trooper, disable the track's sensors and proximity warnings. Give
me green signals all across." In a loud roar, Tasha barreled off
towards the rail yard. She didn't want to get stopped by a red
signal. The covert warrior knew railroads were divided into
sections and only one rail vehicle could be in each zone at a time.
Any vehicle licensed to travel on rail in Scandinavia or Denmark
was equipped with remote power shut-off, which would trigger if it
ever ran past a stop-signal.

A few taps on his interactive screen and the
Trooper had pulled up a diagram of the Öresund train-authority's
rail system. Two trains were traveling eastbound and a passenger
train on the bridge westbound in the direction of the tunnel. A few
taps and an override command set the signals along both tracks to
green.

Tasha's truck rumbled across a few rows of
rail. She turned the oversized tires onto the track leading to the
tunnel's westbound tube. She had no time to waste and without
stopping, she pulled the yellow knob near the gear shift to extend
the rail-support wheels. Tasha held the vehicle's steering steady
while the hissing of pneumatics indicated the set of four metal
wheels extending. A single jerk of the cab let her know she was
locked on. Her foot pushed heavily on the gas pedal. With a growl
of the natural-gas engine, Tasha disappeared into the tunnel. Five
members of her platoon rushed to the opening and positioned
themselves on both sides with their automatic weapons. The rest of
the platoon hurried back to the hovercraft. The Sea Captain was
glad to be once again, the highest ranking officer on his ship.
With the last Trooper boarded, the hydrofoil's two giant rotors
spun up to hover speed. A few sea gulls were swept up in the
powerful wind from the bottom of the craft and flung across the
parking lot, much like the dove that sat on Gene's helipad. The
Troopers at battle stations and heavily armed, the assault vessel
departed for the other end of the tunnel in Copenhagen.

Down below, Isabelle and Ralf had reached the
main track. Their train passed over a switch and merged out of the
side tunnel back into the main tube, towards the Danish side of the
bay. Not far behind in the tunnel, Tasha roared along the track in
the truck she had commandeered. She saw the train coming out from
the secret tunnel and knew Isabelle had escaped from the farm. Her
foot was pushing the accelerator into the floor board. Tasha's
blood-lust governed her thoughts.

Isabelle was unaware that her persistent
pursuer was back on the trail. Her immediate attention was on Ralf
and his injured ankle. Her German friend was still seated in the
barstool-height seat to the left of her. His face was in a grimace
as he pulled his work boot of the offending foot. Isabelle took her
hands off the train's controls and pulled a first-aid kit off the
cab's wall. She removed an ice pack and snapped the capsule inside
to set off the endothermic reaction that would chill the contents
of the little plastic pouch. Isabelle placed the ice pack on Ralf's
swollen foot. She looked up at him and realized he was shivering
cold.

Isabelle took the cold pack away quickly and
smiling, she commented, "Just try to use the other one for football
for a while."

Ralf's wimpy grimace turned into a grin.
"Thanks, that's great advise."

Isabelle rose up from his foot. Their eyes
reflected each other's smiles. Isabelle had found an attraction to
Ralf from the moment she met him. She was flattered by his
admiration. The way he selflessly helped her was a very appealing
quality to her. Now he was sitting there like a winged bird,
needing her help. He was so genuinely honest and innocent compared
to many she had met in Los Angeles. "Nice, just a bit wimpy,"
thought Isabelle, still staring deep into Ralf's steel-blue eyes.
His blonde hair looked like that of a surfer who had just come
ashore. Isabelle's primal emotions were guiding her actions that
were to follow, taking her intellect away from her mission.
Isabelle gave in to the temptation before her and drew Ralf into a
long passionate kiss. For the first time since her troubles began,
she felt the isolation Tasha had imposed to be non-existent. A warm
feeling radiated from Isabelle's solar plexus throughout her body.
Their kiss was long and deep. Ralf's shivering torso was pressed
against Isabelle.

Her lips pulled away from his to say, "Let's
get you out of these soggy clothes."

Moments later, Ralf's shirt slapped onto the
cab's floor. The kiss that followed seemed to have brought some
heat to Ralf as his shaking became unnoticeable. Isabelle put some
of her weight on Ralf's shoulders, pushing him gently off the seat
and onto the bare metal floor of the locomotive. Passion ruled the
moment. Suddenly, the two young bodies were thrust towards the
front of the cab. The train's brakes had applied full force, as
they brought the huge mass of metal to an abrupt halt. Isabelle had
failed to tap the dead-man's switch. This was a device installed in
locomotives designed to stop a train in case the operator becomes
unable to periodically depress its button in the command
console.

This was the kind of moment on which Tasha's
success relied heavily. She had been speeding along behind the
train, closing the gap between her and her prey. Tasha slammed on
her brakes and stopped short of the train. Her work truck came to a
halt just behind the last rail car. Ready to kill, Tasha jumped out
and ran towards the train stopped in front of her.

As if Isabelle suddenly sensed the threat
Tasha’s presence was posing, she tore herself away from the passion
which had drawn her into Ralf's arms.

"We have to go!"

This wasn't easy for her to say as the
reptilian part of her brain, responsible for primal emotions,
wrestled with the mammalian portion, which governed higher brain
functions and intellect. Ralf's intellect, the cerebrum, was
unwillingly taking back control from the primal desires of his
cerebellum. A vital detail was pushing its way into his
consciousness.

"The track is open to traffic!"

Isabelle's right hand slammed down on the
dead-man's switch while her left hand reset the throttle to the
maximum position. Since the train had gotten so light without its
questionable cargo, it pulled forward in an abrupt start. Behind
them in the train tube, Tasha’s hand was reaching to climb aboard
the flatbed car when it pulled away. The train sped away too fast
for her to catch, so she rushed back to her truck that was idling
on the tracks and jumped in. Tasha stomped her foot down on the gas
pedal. The cab's door slammed shut from the rubber-burning
departure that filled the tunnel behind her with thick smoke.
Tasha's body and mind had prepared for a battle to the death. The
hormones coursing in her veins at that moment kept Tasha flooded
with the need to fight. Nothing was going to keep her from the
payoff, nothing. What she failed to consider in her blood-lust, was
the fact that other traffic was on the track. At the tunnel
entrance on the island behind her, the passenger train zoomed past
Tasha's Troopers and descended into the tube towards the ocean
floor. Attempts by Tasha’s sentries to warn her failed, since their
radio transmissions were unable to penetrate the tunnel past the
bend. Tasha's trusty clip-on phone was out of service range. Gene
had made sure that the passageway to his secret farm would provide
a no-man's land where public communications would not reach. The
tunnel was one of only three major structures in the developed
world where cell phone service was not provided. Most people were
too busy with their daily lives to question such unmotivated
deviations from the norm. Tasha's eyes were focused on the freight
train in front of her. It was on a rapid ascent from the ocean
floor. Inside the cab, Isabelle and Ralf were wet and cold. Ralf,
whose shirt was still off, reached for his blue gym bag.

"I think I have something a bit more dry for
you," he said and pulled out a bright-yellow, stretchy motorcycle
suit.

Isabelle looked at it. "What about you?
You're freezing."

"Don't worry about me, I keep a regular
change for after work." He found another towel and a change in the
bag. "Sorry, no dressing room. We'll have to get changed right
here."

Ralf thought at least he'd get a chance to
see her naked and hoped the moment would reignite the fire that was
smothered just moments ago. His anticipation turned into
disappointment when he saw Isabelle moving her index finger in a
stirring motion. He recognized this to be the international gesture
for turning around. Ralf faced the back of the train and dried
himself off before getting into his fresh clothes. For a few beats
of their hearts, the two were back to back, stark naked. Isabelle
kept tapping the dead-man's switch periodically while getting
changed so there'd be no further interruptions. Isabelle and Ralf
both felt the energy that filled the cockpit. It had been quite
some time since Isabelle felt such sincerity as she did from Ralf,
and now his naked body was an arm's length from hers. The
temptation of her carnal desires was strong. All she had to do was
turn around, but that, her intellect was telling her, would put an
end to the quest for the truth. Isabelle had dried off and was busy
putting on nothing but Ralf's one-piece. She could hear the sound
of Ralf sliding into his pant legs, and there it was: the sound of
a zipper closing. She pulled the elastic top over her torso. The
fabric was thickly padded but very elastic and molded itself to
every contour of her athletic body. She turned her head and saw
Ralf looking over his shoulder. He was wearing a grey sweat shirt
and some fairly tight blue-jeans that made Isabelle cognizant of
what she had missed.

"I see one size really does fit all," said
Ralf and his jaw almost dropped to the floor when he saw Isabelle
fill his suit so very nicely. It looked like painted on, he knew
what he had missed. It was the threat of losing their lives that
kept them from giving in to their desires. Isabelle thought some
small-talk would be best to disperse the tension.

"So why the motorcycle suit?"

"Because of the bike." Still distracted by
Isabelle's sight, Ralf pointed to the back of the train where a
factory-new street racer stood strapped down as the only remaining
cargo on a row of flatbed rail cars. He explained, "Picked it up at
the port. I'm taking it home to Berlin."

The two had reached the tunnel opening and
darted into the daylight. On the bridge of the clandestine
hydrofoil, the Sea Captain was determined to finish what Tasha had
continuously botched. Tasha's procedures were entirely too tame for
him. The sharks would be a simple solution for Isabelle. The
bearded old skipper had his binoculars trained on the tunnel exit
and saw the speeding locomotive emerge from below like a great
whale coming up for air. Like a whale hunter who spotted his prey,
he was going in for the kill.

"Helmsman! Full speed ahead. The terrorist on
that hijacked train cannot escape. Bring us alongside her."