Avalanche Express by Forbes Colin

Author:Forbes, Colin [Forbes, Colin]
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2010-06-06T17:00:00+00:00

`No.'

'I see ...'

Unsure whether he could control himself, Leroy left the communications compartment and went back to Compartment 3, where Haller and Elsa were guarding Marenkov. Phillip John stood aside to let him enter the rear coach. 'You look as though you've swallowed a bee,' the Englishman commented in his soft voice. 'Missing the Coca-Cola?'

Leroy punched him on the arm none too gently. 'I did just that, fellow, so watch the smart remarks. And your extra nipple is showing.' He tapped John's shoulder holster. There was a blur of movement and Leroy found himself staring into the muzzle of the Luger. 'OK,' he conceded, 'so you're red-hot with the shooter.' As he disappeared into the rear coach John slipped the gun back in place and unfastened the top button of his coat, which had tightened it to expose the outline of the weapon. John was a man willing to learn from anyone.

Knocking on the door, Leroy faced the set procedure — the door opened a fraction, Haller stared out holding a Colt .45 and let him inside. Leroy was relieved to see that outwardly, at least, the atmosphere of gloom had lifted. Everyone was making an effort. Marenkov was playing a game of solitaire with a pack of cards; as he entered, Elsa reached over and moved a card into place.

`Neckermann just reported again to Springer,' Leroy informed Haller.

`We'll reach Chiasso soon,' the American commented.

He lifted the blind a fraction as the express passed Como station and then lowered it. He had no way of knowing that outside in the night the passage of the express was being observed from the fourth-floor window of an apartment block close to the railway line. Inside the darkened room the owner of the apartment watched the long glowworm of lights speeding past. Closing the curtains, he switched on the light, opened a closet, and pressed a concealed catch, and a flap dropped open revealing a high-powered transceiver. He began transmitting.

As the express approached Chiasso, Joseph Laurier lay reclining on his berth inside his sleeping compartment in the third Wagon-Lit. Checking his watch, he became restless again. He swung his long legs onto the floor, took the bone-handled knife he had kept under his pillow, and slipped it down inside the thick sock of his right leg. The train was slowing down as he slipped on his astrakhan coat and Tyrolean hat. As the express stopped, he picked up his cane.

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