Chapter 2 – 300 km/h and No Brakes

 

All Aboard the Fastest Spanish Train

Chapter 2 – 300 km/h and No Brakes

The AVE’s doors hissed shut like a snake warning its prey. The train purred to life and, with a gentle lurch, began to glide out of Madrid.

Inside, everything gleamed — polished floors, futuristic lighting, and the faint aroma of espresso that made even Ye Olde Large Lad pause mid-churro. Tourists snapped photos, businessmen tapped away on tablets, and in the first-class carriage, a grand piano played itself, because Spain does not do subtle.

Sgt. Salty strolled down the aisle like he was on holiday, but his eyes scanned for trouble. He spotted Whining Cole in carriage three, sitting rigid, his cuffed briefcase resting on his lap like a sacred relic. Two rows back, Susan leaned against the window, pretending to read a travel magazine while subtly snapping Cole’s photo on her phone.

Winky, however, had other plans.
“I’ve hacked into the train’s security system,” he whispered into his earpiece.
“Already? We’ve only been moving for thirty seconds,” Salty replied.
“That’s thirty seconds too long. And you’re not gonna like this…”

A small screen flickered in Salty’s smart-glasses — an overhead view of the train. There were more suspicious figures. Carriage five: Woodie Wood, wearing his trademark lumberjack coat, sipping Rioja and looking smug. Carriage eight: Candle of Spices, flipping through a recipe book with the calm menace of a man who could poison you with paprika.

And then the train jolted. Not from turbulence — but from acceleration. The onboard display blinked:

Speed: 312 km/h

“Winky…” Salty said slowly, “why are we going faster than the safety limit?”
“Because someone overrode the train’s controls,” Winky said, “and locked the driver out of the system.”

Somewhere up front, a voice came over the intercom — deep, mocking, and far too familiar.

“Good morning, passengers. This is your new conductor, Ron Beefmaster. Today’s ride will be… non-stop. I mean that literally. No stops. No brakes. No mercy.”

Gasps filled the carriage. Large Lad dropped his churro. Susan and Sarah exchanged glances that meant trouble.

Salty cracked his knuckles.
“Alright team — time to turn this luxury cruise into a battlefield.”