Chapter 73: The Second Train

Victor slowly lowered himself behind the crumbling tunnel wall.

The voices outside carried clearly through the night air.

"The Founder wants the prisoner delivered before midnight," one guard repeated.

"Then we're already late," the other replied.

"The first train was only the distraction."

Arthur looked at Victor.

Neither of them needed to say anything.

Nathaniel's recovered message had been right.

The first train was bait.

The second carried the real prisoner.

"How many?" Damien whispered.

Arthur carefully raised a fibre-optic camera through a crack in the stone.

"Two guards outside."

"One sniper on the signal tower."

"Three more near the platform entrance."

"Six visible."

"Meaning twelve we can't see," Victor said.

"Probably more."

I studied the abandoned station.

Blackridge looked forgotten by the world.

Broken lamps leaned over rusted tracks.

Weeds pushed through cracked concrete.

The station building had collapsed years ago.

Yet fresh tyre marks covered the gravel road.

Someone maintained this place.

"Arthur," I whispered.

"Can you reach the security cameras?"

He smiled faintly.

"Already trying."

His fingers moved quickly across the tablet.

Several progress bars flashed.

Then a grainy surveillance feed appeared.

"I'm in."

The station wasn't abandoned at all.

Hidden cameras covered every platform.

Thermal sensors watched every tunnel.

A freight warehouse behind the station glowed with activity.

"Thirty-one heat signatures," Arthur murmured.

"No... thirty-two."

"Same number as Ashford Manor," Damien observed.

"Different team," Victor replied.

"Same organisation."

Arthur enlarged the warehouse image.

Inside stood a long black freight train.

Most of the wagons were empty.

Except the last carriage.

"Zoom further," Victor ordered.

Arthur enhanced the image.

Two men rolled a reinforced steel container toward the rear carriage.

The container wasn't large.

About the size of a hospital bed.

Ventilation holes lined the sides.

"That's not cargo," Rose whispered through the earpiece.

"That's a transport chamber."

"For one person," I said.

"The prisoner."

Victor nodded.

"Question is... who?"

Arthur switched to another camera.

The answer appeared immediately.

A tall man in a dark coat walked across the platform surrounded by armed escorts.

His hands weren't tied.

His face remained calm.

Even from a distance, Victor recognised him.

"Elias..."

His voice barely escaped his throat.

Twenty-six years had changed him.

Grey streaks touched his dark hair.

The scar above his eyebrow remained.

So did the straight posture.

He looked neither frightened nor free.

He looked... resigned.

"Why isn't he resisting?" Damien asked.

"Because he doesn't believe escape is possible," Margaret answered quietly.

"Conditioning."

Suddenly another figure stepped onto the platform.

A woman wearing a long charcoal coat.

She removed her hood.

"Sophia," I breathed.

"Sparrow," Victor corrected.

She stood directly in front of Elias.

Neither spoke.

She simply handed him a folded piece of paper.

An armed guard immediately took it away.

One slap sent the paper into a puddle.

Elias never reacted.

But Sophia did.

For the briefest moment, anger crossed her face.

"She's still protecting him," I whispered.

"Even now."

Arthur zoomed in on the discarded paper.

Rain blurred most of the writing.

Only two words remained visible.

"Remember Ash."

Victor's breathing caught.

"Nathaniel gave her the message," he whispered.

"She never stopped trying."

A whistle echoed through the station.

Headlights appeared deep inside the tunnel.

"Second train," Arthur said.

"Right on schedule."

The locomotive emerged slowly.

Unlike the decoy freight train, this one carried no company markings.

Every carriage was matte black.

Every window sealed.

"Military conversion," Damien observed.

"No," Margaret replied.

"Older."

"Government transport."

"From before the relocation programme ended."

The train stopped with mechanical precision.

Armed personnel surrounded the final carriage.

The steel transport chamber was rolled forward.

Victor looked ready to move.

I caught his arm.

"Not yet."

"Nathaniel said they wanted us to rescue Elias."

"If we move now... we play their game."

Victor forced himself to stay still.

Arthur suddenly frowned at the monitor.

"Something's wrong."

"What?"

"Count the escorts."

We did.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

"Only four around Elias," Damien realised.

"But there are twelve around the transport chamber," Victor finished.

"The prisoner isn't Elias."

Silence settled over the tunnel.

The chamber doors opened briefly before loading.

Only for a second.

Long enough to reveal the person inside.

My heart stopped.

The prisoner's face was pale.

Unconscious.

An oxygen mask covered his mouth.

Yet there was no mistaking him.

Victor stared in disbelief.

"No..."

"That's impossible."

Damien looked from Victor to the screen.

"Who is he?"

Victor's voice broke for the first time.

"That's not Elias."

"That's my father."