Chase (ChronoShift Trilogy) (36 page)

Alexander Rialto peered through binoculars from a platform that held a clear view of the only section of its track he cared about.  Torino and Plageanet were the only two on his team whose lack of conscience was complete enough that could trust them with this job.  They'd planted powerful explosives underneath the tracks at a junction just outside New London, Connecticut.  It was 7:25 AM and being an express train, there was no stop scheduled for New London.  The train was traveling at 150 miles per hour, its full speed.

At the critical moment, Rialto remotely triggered the C-4 packs buried under the track.  The shock wave from the explosion thudded against his chest and staggered him.  Almost simultaneously, he felt the ground rippling beneath his feet.  It was an awe-inspiring sight to see 540 tons of steel hurtling out of control.

The train twisted in a sickening angle as its front end was lifted momentarily by the blast and then dove back into the earth, gouging a deep trench with its nose.  A plume of dirt billowed before it, piling up over its front and then falling to either side in a continual wave.  It was still going well over 100 miles per hour when it crashed into the concrete barrier separating the track from the Connecticut suburb.  He'd chosen a curve for just this reason.

The rebar-reinforced concrete wall shattered before the train's impact as if a hammer had slammed up against a piece of glass.  Train car piled into train car as the silver bullet passed into the neighborhood.  It was not the five houses it destroyed as much as the drag of the earth which finally stopped it.

A shredded carcass of steaming metal remained, smoke and fire billowing from various openings.  Painful moans and cries of shock and horror emanated from its body as well as several of the houses.

With purpose, Rialto strode to the wreck, inspecting his handiwork.  The wails of the wounded were louder than he’d expected.  One feeble, pale, bloodied arm stretched toward him through a broken window, pleading for help.

Calm down people
, he wanted to shout.  He fully expected all of this to be undone.

There it was, the object of his interest, the front power car. He'd been worried it would be buried under rubble, but the most that covered it was a pile of dirt.  He crumbled some of the last bits of broken glass from its casing in a door and inserted his calling card.

A shriek of genuine agony pierced the cacophony of noise and sirens as someone inside awoke from numbness to the reality of their pain.

"Oh, do shut up," he muttered as he walked off.

***

"You see this, Mark?"

Ty held up the morning paper.  They'd been out of touch with current events for the past few weeks with the exception of whatever they read in the paper.

Train Derailed,

Over 200 Dead

[New London, CT]

The Acela Express train derailed yesterday at about 7:25 AM just outside New London, destroying at least five homes before coming to a halt.  The commuter train was filled to capacity with early-morning commuters traveling between Boston and Washington DC.  According to the Connecticut State Police over 200 people on board were killed in the accident. Another 100 were injured, some critically.

"We do not believe this to be an act of terrorism," said Homeland Security Agent John Bryant, "though we will not rule out any possibilities until the investigation has been completed."

Several eyewitnesses reported hearing a large explosion right before the train derailed.   A source inside the State Police department has indicated there was a large crater at the point of derailment.  Many windows in the vicinity were blown out as well, which is further indication of an explosion of some sort.

The Boston Herald has also learned that a business card reading "Dark Shift, A. Rialto" was found at the scene, apparently left by someone after the accident had occurred.  One witness saw a man approach the front of the train after the derailment who may have left the card.

Federal authorities are not commenting on the card or on any possible causes of the derailment at this time.

The article continued from there.  Mark’s hands clenched as he read of the casualties, crinkling the paper permanently.  They knew what the cause was, or better said, they knew
who
 the cause was.

They might be the only people on the planet who truly knew Rialto and what he was capable of.

It had become clear to Mark that there could not be an endless supply of time-shifters out there working for Rialto since Rialto had gotten his shifter from Ty and all of his recent recruits were people Mark had struggled with during his historical escapades.

Still, they couldn't explain where Rialto had gotten all of his shifters.  Mark suspected that Rialto would kill him and Hardy at some point in the future and hide their bodies well.  That would explain the lack of death certificates for him and Hardy, as well as how Graves and Torino had gotten their shifters, but the theory still did not explain the others.
 Where had the other four shifters come from?

It didn’t look like they would have time to solve that mystery.  They had to stop Rialto and they had to stop him now.

"You think it's a trap?"  Ty asked.

"I'd bet on it."

They waited expectantly for Mark to lay out a plan.  Military protocol had been drilled into them like a second set of DNA.  Once he stated the plan, they would comment or recommend changes.  In the end, he was like their unit commander and they would do whatever he decided.

"First thing we're going to do is disarm those explosives and stop this tragedy.  Taking care of Rialto will be secondary."

"We gonna expose ourselves?"  Hardy inquired.

"You got any other ideas?  We can't let 200 people die.  I'll disarm the explosives myself.   I want both of you to take up sniper roosts on opposite sides and cover me.  You'll position yourselves as far from the scene as possible, half a mile if you can.  We need to make sure Rialto can't locate you, ‘cause you're my only back-up."

***

Mark inspected the wreckage.  It was a horrific scene.  He peered inside one of the cars and saw blood splashed chaotically across its interior.  How any man could be so callous toward innocent life, he could not understand.

The question that caused him the most struggle, however, was how
God
could allow such an evil man to have such power.

He made his way to the crater.  It was huge.  He never understood how the government could get away with such non-committal in their public assessments.  This was clearly no accident, and Homeland Security had to know that.

Police were stationed outside the perimeter of the scene to prevent curiosity seekers from tampering with it.  Evading them was easy, but he made sure he was out of sight before shifting.

First, he set himself up in an observation post.  They needed to identify exactly when the explosives were placed on the track, and by who, but he guessed it would be sometime the night before.

Sure enough, around 5:00 AM, Vincent Torino approached the track carrying a duffel bag, not with the cowering insecurity of a thief avoiding scrutiny, but with the confidence of a man who knew he was immune to attack.

The assassin pulled a shovel from the duffel bag and dug out a significant hole underneath and around the track.  He shoved C-4 sticks into the hollowed out area and attached an electronic device to them, which was probably a radio receiver that would trigger the explosion.  After burying his handiwork with gravel, he faded off into the darkness.

"Anybody got a bead on Torino?"  Mark whispered into his radio mike.  Their comm system was encrypted and secure from infiltration.

"I've got him in sight," Ty replied.

"Stay where you're at till I'm done here, then follow him.  Don't try to take him out, just find out where he's going and scope out who else might be around.  This has got to be a set up to draw us out.  Hardy, you follow Ty from a distance and keep him covered. Copy?"

"Roger."

"Out."

Mark concentrated on the track in front of him.  He trusted his friends to watch his back.

            The explosives appeared simple to disarm — unbelievably so.  Wary, he inspected every crevice and crack several times, searching for a hidden tripwire or some other booby-trap, but he couldn’t find any — which only worried him more.

Oh well, if I blow myself up, at least I'll save the train.
  Plus, Ty or Hardy would shift back and warn him off before touching anything if he did.

Holding his breath, one by one, he removed the leads that connected the trigger to the explosives.

Nothing happened. 
Too easy
.

He packed up the trigger and the explosives in his own duffel bag and left.

He had no doubt that if they watched the news later today, there would be no mention of a train derailing and two hundred people would go on living their lives normally, never knowing the mortal danger they'd escaped.

Torino moved through the streets like a silver fox.  His stride was purposeful, yet not swaggering.  It was the walk of a professional killer, a man who knew what he was about and had no desire to be noticed.

Ty followed at a safe distance.  Hardy had the most training of the three in covert surveillance, but Ty was no slouch himself.  Torino's apparent lack of concern that he might be followed was what worried Ty the most.  Most likely, one of Rialto's other team members would be stationed along Torino's path waiting to ambush Ty.

He followed Torino all the way into town and then through it.  The man was certainly going out of his way to walk a long distance. 
Why wasn't he driving?

The sun was dawning and a short burst of reflective glare revealed the ambusher up on the roof of a building across the street.  It was a poor position for a sniper, but then their enemies' lack of training never failed to amaze him.  If it weren't for the superior numbers of the other side, he and Mark and Hardy would have won by now.

Ty halted his pursuit and ducked into an alley.  He approached the sniper's building from the back and stealthily ascended the stairs.  Surprisingly, the door to the roof was well-oiled and made no sound when he opened it.

He slipped off his shoes and stepped softly toward his would-be attacker.  The man never heard him coming.  Reaching around the man's neck, Ty yanked him up and back, pulling his forearm hard into his throat.  The sniper thrashed about helplessly until he fell unconscious.  Ty didn't want to kill the guy, at least not yet.  That would only attract other dark shifters to save him.  No, he would tie him up for now and return to finish him off later.

He rolled the man over and shock throttled him.
  Hugh Plageanet.

Plageanet, the evil, disgusting son of the plantation owner they'd taken out in 1863.  Ty double-blinked and rubbed his eyes. The last time they'd seen this piece of human garbage was when the younger Plageanet had entered his family outhouse to relieve himself.  Mark and he had blown that outhouse to smithereens.  How in the world had Plageanet survived?  There had been nothing left.

There would be plenty of time to contemplate such mysteries later, he decided.  For now, he had a mission to complete.  He grabbed each of Plageanet's wrists and handcuffed them to iron rails imbedded in the concrete structure of the building.  He also wrapped the man's legs up tight in a chain and padlocked it.  The final touch was a strip of duct tape over his mouth.

Without a third party freeing him, little Hugh would wait right here till he got back.

Back on the sidewalk, Ty continued the pursuit, shifting back to a time when Torino had still been in sight.  He was a little more relaxed now, feeling like he'd discovered the trap, but his guard was nevertheless up, wary, ready for anything else Rialto might have up his sleeve.

Torino arrived at an empty field outside of town.  He left the road and disappeared into the wild, unkempt grass. There were no trees in sight, but the grass was tall enough by itself to make it difficult to keep Torino in eyeshot, though it also helped disguise Ty's pursuit.  Torino's lack of concern about being followed still bothered him.

Torino stopped to look around, so Ty ducked out of sight behind a bush.  Apparently satisfied he was alone, Torino hit his shifter and disappeared.  Ty checked his detector.

Same day, five years prior
.  Likely just your typical "shift and evade" maneuver.

Ty knew how to get around that.  He adjusted his own time display to five years ago, but thirty seconds earlier.  He would arrive before Torino and scope out the situation.  He'd have time to set up a nice little surprise, or simply shift out to report back to Mark, Torino never being the wiser.