Chapter 3 – Flirtation at 312 km/h

 

All Aboard the Fastest Spanish Train

Chapter 3 – Flirtation at 312 km/h

The AVE was a silver bullet slicing through the Spanish countryside, sunflowers blurring into streaks of yellow outside the windows. Inside, panic was spreading faster than the train itself.

Sgt. Salty and Sarah crouched behind the service trolley in carriage four, peeking through the gap. Whining Cole had moved further down the aisle, still guarding that briefcase like it contained the last ticket to paradise. Passengers were whispering, glancing nervously at the speed display.

“Alright,” Salty murmured, “here’s the plan — I’ll distract Cole, you slip past and get to carriage five. Winky’s waiting to open the roof hatch.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a dangerous smile. “Distract him? You mean like you distracted those guards in Istanbul by pretending to be a perfume salesman?”
Salty smirked. “Worked, didn’t it? You still remember my ‘Eau de Danger’ pitch.”

She leaned closer, her perfume cutting through the metallic tang of train air. “Careful, Sergeant — flirt with me too much and you might actually have to buy me dinner.”

“Fine,” Salty said with a grin, “but only if we both survive this train ride.”

Before she could reply, a violent jolt threw them together — his arm instinctively catching her waist, her hand gripping his shoulder. For half a second, neither moved. Then, the sound of heavy boots in the next carriage snapped them apart.

It was Woodie Wood, moving up from carriage five, clearly headed their way. His axe handle stuck out of his coat pocket, just visible enough to send a clear message.

“Change of plan,” Salty whispered. “I take Woodie. You get on that roof.”
“And if I fall?”
“I’ll catch you.”
“Big words, Sergeant.”
“Big arms,” he said with a wink.

Sarah rolled her eyes but smirked, slipping away toward the roof hatch as Salty stood, blocking Woodie’s path. The fight for the AVE had just gone vertical.