“Buck! We have to get inside! Now!”
As I lowered myself hurriedly onto the ladder, I glanced one last time at my parents.
Bugsy slammed his foot on the brake before they reached the cliff, the car sliding to a halt.
I pulled the hatch shut.
I turned the wheel lock and sealed it tight.
With a violent shudder that shook the entire train, I realized the locomotive had just smashed through the barrier at the end of the line…
And was now sailing straight into the sea below.
For a moment, Harry and I both lifted off the ladder, floating in mid-air as the train glided off the cliff.
Then with a crash, the entire locomotive tremored.
Harry and I hit the floor, and through the portholes the view of the sky turned into a view of the ocean, a curtain of gushing bubbles parting to reveal the deep blue sea.
At the same time, the train began to groan and clatter .
I heard the clang of gears shifting, cogs turning, pipes hissing, metallic bones bending, giving the distinct impression that the entire train was, in fact, in the process of metamorphosis…
Changing its steering mechanisms…
Altering its form and function…
Adapting to an entirely new realm.
As the floor beneath me quaked and settled, as the iron walls shuddered then seemed to embrace the atmosphere outside—the water pressing down upon it with greater force than air—I picked myself up, my ears popping.
“What the fuck just happened?” I asked Harry, helping him up at the same time. “Did this train just turn into—”
“A submarine?” said a voice from the front of the car. “How astute of you, Mr. Baxter.”
Harry and I both turned to see Howard Hart at the front of the carriage, holding a gun trained on us. Beside him was Herr Hammer, this time holding Stella in his grip, her legs wriggling and desperately trying to kick him.
“Just move a little to the left and your nuts are mine,” she spat through clenched teeth, squirming in his arms.
“Dad, what are you doing?” Harry pleaded. “You need to let us all go. This is madness.”
“Madness?” Howard challenged sternly. “My dear, deluded, pathetic son. What you call madness, I call the future. Although unfortunately for you and your friends, the future ends here. I had every intention of taking you to Berlin with me, but it seems your boyfriend here has rubbed off on you. You’re a lot more trouble than I anticipated. How regrettable. But Hart Industries must always come first. Of course, it would be a pity to kill you in the dining car. Blood stains on this exquisite carpet may well ruin my appetite. Come, let us take you into the Presidential Suite. The others are waiting for us in there.”
Howard waved his gun while Hammer carried a twisting, jiggling Stella into the next car.
As we walked, I noticed Howard’s exquisite carpet squish beneath my shoes.
I glanced over my shoulder.
The door to the passenger car behind us was still open…
And the door to the cargo car beyond that was open too…
Meaning that water was coming in through—
“The bullet hole in the window,” I murmured to myself.
“What was that?” Howard turned to glare at me.
“I said, nice view out the window.”
Howard smirked. “You should see the view through the periscope. Our target should be coming into range any minute.”
“What the hell are you plotting, Hart?”
The laugh that came from the tycoon was deep, devilish, and drenched in determination. “Something nobody is expecting. Something that will change everything. It’s time to send a message. A new world order is rising. It’s time to cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war.”
With a shove of his gun, Howard pushed his son and me into the next car.
The lavish carriage was adorned with velvet curtains and Persian rugs, while on the leather chaise longue beneath a row of portholes sat Herr Garbutt, holding a gun into the side of Mrs. Hart. But it was the man I’d never seen before—wearing glasses that looked more like binoculars, and raising one hand that was in fact a steel ball with countless bizarre metal appendages jutting from it—who made my guts knot with dread.
As we entered the car, Hammer threw Stella to the ground.
“Hey, watch it with the merchandise,” she scowled.
“I couldn’t agree more,” said the man with a whizzing, moving, mechanical hand, his German accent thick and his telescopic lenses zooming in and out as he set eyes on Stella. “Such a delicate, curious creature of beauty I’ve never seen before. With a few minor corrections I could make her… perfect.”
In one swift move Stella leapt off the floor, clambered up my shoulders and climbed onto my head for protection. “Holy baloney, what the fuck is that and can you please keep it away from me? And for the record, there ain’t nothin’ here needs correctin’! I’m perfect just the way I am!”
The man stepped closer, his robotic hand seemingly giving birth to a screwdriver…
A pair of plyers…
A corkscrew?
“Yikes!” Stella climbed even higher onto my head like she was about to make a nest.
“Herr Bockenheimer,” said Herr Garbutt. “Perhaps you can concentrate on your next project some other time. Mein Führer is more concerned with testing the prototype of Herr Hart’s amphibious train. Your devices are in place.”
Stella’s eyes turned to saucers. “Yikes! You’re Boom-Boom Bockenheimer? Maniac of mayhem? Fanatic of doom and destruction?”
Bockenheimer’s face flushed red. “Does my reputation precede me? Oh, how you flatter me, my damsel of detachable parts.”
“Detachable parts? Ain’t nothing getting detached in here except maybe your—”
“Silence!” Garbutt barked. “Herr Bockheimer, might I remind you that you are here on the Führer ’s orders!”
“Of course,” Bockenheimer said, tearing his lens-zooming gaze away from Stella. “Yes, of course! Let the apocalypse begin!”
“Apocalypse?” Harry turned to his father, begging him, “Dad, you can’t do this. Please don’t do this.”
For a moment Howard gazed into the eyes of his son.
Then, raising his hand, he slapped Harry so hard it knocked him to the ground, blood gushing from his lip.
“Let me make one thing clear,” Howard fumed through gritted teeth. “If you and your mother will not stand by my side in Berlin, you will both rot here forever in the seas off Wilde City. No son of mine will stand in my way.” He huffed through a snarl as he added, “Then again, you never were a son of mine. God only knows who you really belong to. And only God cares.”
“Herr Hart, it is unfortunate your family has become such a distraction,” Garbutt said. “ Mein Führer demands you do not lose sight of his directive.”
With a lingering look of disdain, Howard turned away from Harry and gave Garbutt the Nazi salute. “Hart Industries believes only in the future. Hart Industries believes only in the Führer .”
Herr Garbutt cackled. “ Mein Führer is not entirely sure he believes in you. But now that your prototype is on its way to Berlin, the discussion seems rather moot.” With a glance at Hammer, Herr Garbutt calmly said, “Shoot him. In fact, shoot them all.”
Alarm swept across Hart’s face. “No!”
Hammer pointed his gun and pulled the trigger.
Mrs. Hart screamed as blood splattered over the silk curtains and Persian rugs, and Howard Hart fell dead to the floor.
Stella squealed and leapt from my shoulders, scrambling behind the chaise longue.
Harry clutched me in horror, wrapping his arms around me.
Mrs. Hart melted to the floor beside her husband as blood oozed from his temple.
Hammer pointed his gun between us, deciding who to kill, before settling on Stella. “I think this pain in the nacken should go next,” he said, pushing the chaise longue aside and aiming his pistol straight at her.
I was about to launch to my feet and crash tackle the big lug one last time when suddenly we all heard—
“No!”
Everyone turned to see Bockenheimer’s lenses moving in and out and his robotic hand buzzing madly.
“Leave her alone! She’s mine!” With a whir, a cocktail swizzle stick spun on the end of his mechanical hand. “If you want to kill the others, then do as you please. But I’d like to escort the newfound object of my affection to the engine room. I would like her to see the wonders of my creations… before we raze Wilde City to the ground.”
Stella looked confused. “Am I seriously the newfound object of your affection?”
Bockenheimer’s telescopic lenses seemed to extend further than ever before. “Yes.” He happened to catch the string of drool with his swizzle stick. “Oh yes.”
Stella straightened her back. “Then I demand my friends get to see the engine room too! That includes the classy broad with the diamond necklace.”
She was, of course, referring to Mrs. Hart who was still crying by the side of her dead husband.
Harry was still in my arms. I looked into his eyes and asked, “Are you alright?”
He tried to turn his head to look at his dead father, but I caught his chin and turned his gaze back to me. “Hey, we’ll get through this. I’ll get us through this, I promise.”
He wiped his tears aside. “I know you will.”
Giving a hard shove, the one-eyed Hammer pushed us toward the engine car while Garbutt yanked Mrs. Hart to her feet. With Stella and Bockenheimer in the lead, we moved through the connecting passage between the Presidential Suite and the engine room.
Instantly the cacophony of sounds in the compartment struck us, along with the fact that nobody was steering this submarine. On a large console at the front of the carriage, numbered wheels spun, gears whirred, and levers turned of their own accord. It was like looking at the interior of a giant intricate clock, each moving piece beeping, clattering, buzzing, or flashing.
While the sight of such a diabolical machine of doom heightened my sense of dread, Stella simply shrieked, “There’s nobody driving this damn train!”
“Therein lies the genius of Herr Hart’s submarine locomotive,” Garbutt said. “Everything in here is automated. Everything almost has a mind of its own. He liked to call it ‘artificial intelligence’—machines doing the work of humans. One day, we’ll all be able to sit back and let machines do all the thinking for us.”
“If machines are doing the thinking,” I said. “Who’s in command?”
Garbutt laughed. “Why, we are, of course.”
“But if you let a machine do all the thinking, isn’t it just a matter of time before it outsmarts you?”
With a whizz of the drill on his robotic hand, Bockenheimer giggled maniacally. “Herr Baxter, perhaps it is you who is doing too much thinking. Fortunately, I can put a stop to all those ridiculous thoughts spinning around in your brain. If you just tilt your head a little to the left…”
Bockenheimer giggled maniacally as he came at me with his twirling drill.
“Herr Bockenheimer,” snapped Garbutt. “Restrain yourself, at least for the next few moments. We have a mission to complete.”
Bockenheimer gave an annoyed sigh, then slowly backed away, lowering his mechanical hand. “Very well, Herr Garbutt.” He turned to the moving, mechanical console, and with a push of a green button, two long hatches on each side of the compartment opened, revealing two large tubes. And inside each tube—
“Torpedoes,” I uttered. “Those weren’t just missiles we saw in the crates. They’re torpedoes.”
“Correct, Herr Baxter,” said Garbutt. “Together, their payload is capable of blowing our target to oblivion. Care to take a look?”
Garbutt stepped up to a periscope near the front of the compartment. He snapped the handles down into place, turned it and invited me to peer through its lenses.
The view was blurry, awash with waves, until soon I recognized Wilde City’s gasworks sitting on the shoreline. Beyond it, the cityscape touched the morning sky. “My God, you’re going to blow up the gasworks?”
“Not simply the gasworks, Herr Baxter. When the facility erupts, it will ignite every pipeline leading into the city. Every underground tunnel, every power generator, every apartment in every building will erupt like a volcano. Wilde City will, for all intents and purposes, become hell on earth. When the world hears about what has happened here, panic will spread across the globe like… what’s the expression? Wildfire.”
“You’ll kill hundreds of thousands of people,” Harry breathed in horror.
“That’s the idea.”
“And my father was a part of this twisted, evil plot?”
“Your father was instrumental in its conception. You look surprised. You shouldn’t be. The insatiable lust for power can make a man do the most unthinkable things. It can also cost him his life.” Garbutt snickered at the sight of Harry trembling with rage. “You feel betrayed by the man who raised you. Don’t worry, Master Hart, you will soon be joining him. By the time we reach Berlin, you, your friends, and everyone in Wilde City will be long dead. But enough talk. Our destination is nearing, and it’s time for Herr Bockenheimer to ready his weapons.”
Bockenheimer clapped one hand to his robotic hand with glee. “With pleasure.” As he stepped between the two devices lying inside the torpedo tubes, he muttered to himself, relishing the process that would lead to the city’s obliteration. “First, we set the timers on the weapons to exactly the same time. Taking into account the tide and currents, I’ve calculated that the torpedoes will reach the rock bed along the shoreline within ninety seconds, at which point the diamond drills will activate, allowing the torpedoes to burrow directly beneath the gasworks, which will take another four minutes. Setting the timer on each torpedo to seven minutes and thirty seconds will position the weapons at precisely the right point to rupture the gasworks and flood every one of its pipelines with a tsunami of fire.” He couldn’t help but cackle as he took one last look through the periscope then pointed to a red button on the wall beside each torpedo tube. “All we have to do is hit those launch buttons for the torpedo hatch to close, the tube to flood, and the propulsion mechanism to launch the torpedoes on their one-way trip to annihilation. It is, if I do say so myself, the perfect plan. Tailored with the utmost precision. Nothing can possibly go wrong.”
The moment the words left his mouth, an ear-piercing alarm began to ring.
Spinning red lights flashed as Garbutt turned to Hammer. “What’s happening?”
“There’s a containment breach in the hull.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Stella yelped.
The answer came in a distant explosion of glass, followed by a shudder and jolt throughout the entire structure.
With a metallic groan, the submarine began to tilt, the nose veering upward as the rear began to sink.
All eyes glanced down through the open doors of the carriages—through the Presidential Suite, through the dining car, through the passenger car—to see water gushing into the cargo car, flooding it fast.
The bullet hole had given way.
The entire porthole had blown in.
And now the submarine was sinking.
“Seal it off!” Garbutt shouted at Hammer. “Get down there and seal it off now!”
Hammer bolted out of the engine compartment.
Another violent tremor shook the vessel and the nose of the submarine lifted even higher, knocking everyone off balance and onto the floor.
“The torpedoes,” Bockenheimer gasped. “I must launch the torpedoes now! ”
He pulled himself up to kneel over one of the open hatches and set the timer on one of the weapons.
The seven-and-a-half-minute countdown began.
But before he had time to scramble over to the second weapon, Harry threw himself at him, tackling him to the ground.
Garbutt turned his pistol on Harry and was about to fire when I lunged at him, the pair of us rolling down the sloping floor of the compartment and hitting the side of the open door.
Down through the carriages I could see Hammer closing the door to the cargo car, heaving with all his might against the gushing water.
Garbutt tried to turn his gun on me, and we wrestled for the weapon.
I heard a sharp buzzing sound and saw Harry trying to hold Bockenheimer’s mechanical hand at bay, the whizzing drill aimed straight at Harry’s forehead.
“Stella! Help Harry!”
But Stella was already on it, running at Bockenheimer and kicking him in the nuts with so much force that one of them must have got caught in his throat and choked his cry of pain.
While Bockenheimer writhed in agony, Harry pulled himself up and slid down the floor toward me.
His foot connected with Garbutt’s fist and knocked the pistol into the next car.
It slid along the tilting floor of the Presidential Suite.
Garbutt gave Harry a furious look, then crawled into the next car for his weapon.
Beyond him, Hammer had just sealed the door to the dining car and was climbing the slanting carriages back toward the engine.
“The door,” I uttered to Harry.
Together we slammed the door between the engine car and the Presidential suite shut, turning the wheel lock and sealing Garbutt and Hammer out.
Within seconds we heard the sound of gunfire, bullets slamming against the other side of the door.
In the next moment, the wheel lock tried to turn.
Harry and I held it tight, but Hammer must have reached it from the other side, his brute strength shifting the wheel an inch, then another.
“Buck! Help!”
I turned to see that Bockenheimer was back in the fight, bearing down on Stella, his drill spinning madly.
Mrs. Hart was trying to pull him off her, hitting him with her fists but to no avail.
I lunged at his feet, grabbing his ankle and yanking him away from Stella.
The vessel gave a loud metallic moan and several valves in the console burst, hissing steam.
Dials flickered and cogs spun out of control.
I pulled myself to my feet, only to be sideswiped by Bockenheimer who hurled himself at me, knocking me on top of the torpedo with the timer.
He came at me with his drill.
I tried to fend him off, my ears filled with the sound of the deadly countdown ticking over, the timer behind my head, the drill almost right between my eyes.
Suddenly Stella was on top of him, beating Bockenheimer’s head with her fists. “Get away from him, you psycho putz!”
He shook her off with a jerk of his shoulders, then thrust the drill straight down at me.
I moved my head to one side just in time.
The spinning drill missed me by a whisker…
And pierced straight into the timer on the torpedo.
Bockenheimer’s eyes widened with alarm. “Oh dear. That’s not good.”
I turned to see what he was looking at .
The hands on the timer were now spinning twice as fast as before, flying past the five-minute mark and accelerating.
“Oh, fuck!”
Desperately Bockenheimer tried to pull his robotic hand free, but the spinning drill had caught itself inside the timer.
From behind me came Harry’s voice. “Buck! A little help here!”
He was straining with the wheel lock, no match for Hammer on the other side who was slowly making ground, turning the wheel several inches at a time.
I charged for Harry, grabbing the wheel to try and slow Hammer’s progress, but it was no use. We wouldn’t be able to hold him back much longer.
“Buck! The timer just passed four minutes!” screeched Stella. “It’s spinning out of control!”
Frantically I looked around for anything I could jam inside the wheel lock to stop it from turning.
I noticed the handhold welded to the side of the doorway.
Quickly I reached around Harry from behind.
I unbuckled his belt, my hands working as fast as they could.
“Buck, what the hell are you doing? We don’t have time for that now.”
“Just hold the damn wheel still for a few seconds more, would ya?”
I snapped off his belt, slid one end through the wheel lock and the other through the handhold by the door before fastening the buckle as tight as I could.
Cautiously Harry released the wheel lock.
The belt held firm, the wheel unable to turn… at least for now.
“That should buy us another couple of minutes.”
“Buck! We only got another couple of minutes before this torpedo blows us to smithereens!” Stella shouted.
Harry looked at me, his eyes filled with panic. “Buck, how the hell are we gonna get outta here.”
I looked from Harry to the torpedo with the spinning timer. “The only way we can. Come on, give me a hand.”
As Bockenheimer whimpered and wailed and tried to free his mechanical prosthetic from the timer, I stepped over him to the front of the torpedo tube. “Let’s get this thing out of here. Then the other one. It’s time we all took a little swim.”
“A swim?” Mrs. Hart asked, her voice quavering. “You can’t be serious, Mr. Baxter.”
“The timer’s almost at the minute mark and moving fast!” Stella warned.
The buckle on Harry’s belt began to twist as the wheel lock started to budge once more.
I looked at Mrs. Hart. “I don’t think we have a choice. Harry, on the count of three. One, two…”
With a heave we lifted the torpedo—with Bockenheimer still attached to the timer—out of the tube and lowered it to the floor.
Quickly I grabbed Mrs. Hart and pushed her unceremoniously into the empty tube.
“Stella, come on. You’re going with her.”
“What about you and Harry?”
“We’ll be right behind you, I promise.”
I lifted Stella into the tube, but before she lay down, Bockenheimer stopped struggling with his robotic hand and blew a kiss into the air. “My mini mon cheri , it would seem we were never meant to be.”
Stella had just enough time to flick him the finger. “Ah, stick it up your ass, you crazy fuck!”
I hit the red button beside the torpedo tube and Stella lay down, huddling with Mrs. Hart as the hatch began to shut.
“Hold your breath,” I told them through the closing hatch. “This tube is going to fill with water and shoot you out. Just hang on tight and swim like hell to the surface.”
Stella and Mrs. Hart nodded in fear as the hatch sealed tight.
We heard a whoosh from the tube and I prayed like hell that they’d be okay.
I glanced at the timer.
We had only seconds left.
Harry and I lifted the torpedo out of the second tube, letting this one clang to the floor in our haste.
With a snap, the belt buckle on the door broke and the wheel lock spun.
I shoved Harry into the tube and climbed in after him, kissing him hard. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Hammer and Garbutt shoved open the door, waving their guns.
Bockenheimer’s eyes opened in horror as he watched the spinning hands on the timer. He gulped with defeat. “Time’s up!”
I hit the red button and lay down, holding Harry tighter than ever before.
Hammer and Garbutt fired recklessly at us.
The hatch sealed shut.
The tube began to flood with water and Harry and I took a deep breath.
A second later, we felt a sudden rush as we were jettisoned out into the blue.
I opened my eyes as we were catapulted through the water away from the submarine…
And then…
In a ball of white…
The Millennium Express was ripped open from end to iron-clad end.
The eruption shattered the vessel into a million pieces, just before a shockwave from the blast slammed into Harry and me, sending us tumbling and twisting through the water, desperately trying to hold onto each other, our fingers almost losing their grip.
But in that moment, I swore to myself I’d never let go of Harry ever again.
As the explosion sent us somersaulting through the currents, I snagged his hand in mind and held on tight.
I wasn’t sure which way was up or down.
My lungs were ready to burst.
I wasn’t even certain if Harry was still alive.
Then suddenly I caught sight of the ripples of daylight, shimmering down through the surface of the water.
With all my strength I swam toward it, hauling Harry behind me until soon I broke the waves with a gasp, wheezing and coughing and pulling Harry up for air.
The moment he emerged, his eyes opened, wide and terrified until he realized—
“We’re alive! We’re alive!” he laughed, before scanning the waters. “What about the others? Mother. Where’s Mother? Where’s Stella?”
“Over here!” came Stella’s voice from across the lapping waves.
Harry and I turned to see Stella and Mrs. Hart looking frayed and frazzled, but very much alive. Quickly we swam over to them.
“Are you hurt?” Harry asked his mother.
She shook her head as she fought back tears. “Not physically.”
I turned to Stella to ask her the same question, but before I could open my mouth she stuck two fingers between her lips and whistled in my ear. “What the hell was that for?”
“I’m trying to call those two creepy dragons. Have you seen how far it is to shore? My little arms ain’t exactly flippers, ya know.”
“I don’t think the Komodos can hear you from all the way out here.”
“Well, I sure as hell hope something comes to our rescue.”
At that moment, debris from the explosion below began to bob to the surface… including two round orange buoys, a little burnt around the edges, but nevertheless afloat .
I pushed one over to Stella and Mrs. Hart, while Harry and I clung to the other.
In the distance stood the gasworks, and beyond that Wilde City glimmered in the bright sunshine.
“Well,” I said. “I guess this is the part where we start kicking.”
As we began paddling our way to shore, Stella turned to me. “So Buck, I guess we can consider this another case closed. What’s next on the agenda?”
“You know what, Stella? I think we need to take a little break for a while. I was even thinking, maybe it’s time for a vacation.”
“A vacation? To where?”
I turned to Harry. “What about a cruise down the Nile? I hear Egypt is to die for.”
Harry smiled. “I’ve heard that too.”
“Me too!” Stella chimed in. “When do we leave? What’ll I pack? Oooh, can the twins come? I’ve always wanted to see them in a bathing suit. Preferably in my bathing suit, but that’s a whole other fantasy. I’ll start packing straight away…”
Whatever Stella was yabbering about, her words trailed away as I kissed Harry.
In that kiss, I imagined a world where all our problems had faded away.
I imagined myself sitting beside Harry on a luxury boat, sipping champagne in the mornings and gin in the afternoons.
I imagined a place where the only mystery that needed solving was whether Harry would make love on top of me, or beneath.
A happy sigh escaped me at the thought of it.
Of course, what really happened on our cruise down the Nile… well, that’s a whole other story.
Picture that, huh.