The Hind gunship.
It chased Stretch around every bend, paralleling the fleeing train, harrying the engine car mercilessly with withering fire.
Before suddenly, all the gunfire stopped.
Stretch frowned, confused.
What the—?
Thumps on the roof—
Then before he knew what was happening, a dark figure swung in through one of the shattered forward windows and into the driver’s compartment!
Two boots slammed into his chest, knocking him to the floor.
Damn it! I was stupid!he realized as he tumbled.They’re guards—from the back carriages of the train. Must’ve crawled forward along the roof…
The first guard to land inside the cabin drew his pistol, only for Stretch to kick him viciously—square on the kneecap—breaking it backward, causing the man to howl out in pain, giving Stretch the second he needed to draw his own gun and fire it once, twice, three times into the man’s chest—
More thumps on the roof.
Stretch stood—just in time to see three more pairs of boots jump down onto the hood of the engine car, blocking his view of the track ahead: a long, straight section of track that ended at a sharp left-hand curve. Beyond that curve was a steep downward slope of densely packed snow.
“Huntsman!” he called into his radio mike. “How’s it going back there?”
“I’ve found Wizard and Tank. Just have to cut them free.”
“I got overwhelming company up here, about to storm my position! They came over the roof, from the rear carriages! I have to launch us now!”
“Do it.”West’s voice was calm.“Then get back here.”
“Right.”
Stretch knew what he had to do.
He jammed the throttle fully forward—and the train sped up markedly. Then he wedged a grenade between the throttle and the brakes and pulled the pin.
This was now a one-way ticket.
He dashed back into the train itself, slamming the interconnecting door behind him—
—just as the grenade exploded, ripping the controls to shreds—
—a moment before the entire driver’s compartment was shredded by a volley of bullets, and three more guards swung in through the forward windows.
They entered with their guns up, their leader—an older man, more seasoned than the others, more battle- hardened, the Captain of the Guard—looking pissed as hell at this brazen assault on his train.
THE TRAIN was now rocketing along the high-altitude railway, all but out of control and heading for the sharp left-hand bend that it couldn’t possibly take at this speed.
Stretch burst into the third carriage, the prisoner carriage, where he saw West kneeling beside Wizard and Tank, blowtorch flaring.
Tank was free, but West was still cutting through the leg irons fastening Wizard to the floor.
The Captain of the Guard stormed angrily into the first carriage, not caring for the runaway state of the train—unable to slow it, he was going after the intruders.
He found two of his men huddled in a cell there and heard their pathetic excuses, before he put a bullet in each of their heads for cowardice.
Then he moved on, hunting.
West’s blowtorch blazed away as it carved through Wizard’s chains.
“How long?” Stretch asked anxiously.
“Almost there…” West said, his face illuminated by the blowtorch’s magnesium glare.
The rocking motion of the train was getting wilder.
“We don’t have much track left, Jack…”
“Just…another…second…”
The door to their carriage burst open—revealing the Captain of the Guard!
Stretch spun.
West spun.
The Captain of the Guard stood in the doorway, grinning. He gripped his gun tighter.
But he needn’t have, because it was already too late.
For just then, the runaway train hit the bend.
