The scenery was glorious. Huge waterfalls tumbled down either side of the valley. Once we dropped away from Myrdal, the grass in the sheltered fjord was heavy and green. The train groaned and clattered against its brakes on the steep grade. There was a switchback trail that paralleled the tracks. Hikers coming up from below were moving slowly, sweating, and ignoring the train. Those strolling down from Myrdol waved as we passed them. The train passengers waved back.

I watched the hikers faces, looking for Raven, or Susyn, or Alan. The train plunged into a tunnel of willows and the footpath turned away from the track. There were no familiar faces on board the coach. Of course Susyn could have recruited more help, and I wouldn’t know them. With a sudden change of light, the train burst out from the willow screen. The sun was low in the western sky, just above the rim of the fjord, bathing the valley with warm, golden light. I could see the footpath again, but no one there was familiar. Path and train track converged and the train rumbled across a grade crossing, then rolled westward across the valley. The path continued eastward out of sight.

I moved into the next coach. Most of the windows were open. Tourists were hanging out, taking pictures. The wind tugged at my windbreaker. I put my hands in my pockets to keep it from riding up and revealing the Tokarev stuck in the waistband at the small of my back.

The train ground to a halt. Here, the melting snow pack had produced a powerful waterfall that fell almost onto the tracks. Everyone on board piled out and there was much posing and picture taking. I wandered around and got a look at the rest of the passengers. The train whistle blew and everyone got back on. The various waterfall fed streams had come together to form a narrow, rapid river. The train passed over it, and over the footpath. This happened several more times, and each time there were hikers to look at. Sometimes the footpath was on one side of the valley and the train was on the other, then the reverse. Sometimes the footpath and the train were side by side for a stretch.

We were over half way through the descent to the sea when I saw Susyn, walking down with someone I did not know. He had dark hair and skin. Latino or Levantine? I had only a glimpse before we were past and a turn cut them off, but I knew with an absolute certainty that it was her.

Should I stop them and reason with her? I should not. Even if Cameron Davis could call her off, I couldn’t. They would only look upon me as a target of opportunity, and I was in no position to win a fire fight. I didn’t have enough bullets, and I wasn’t sure that Senator Cabral had enough clout to keep me out of a Norwegian prison.

And even if I convinced her, where was Alan? more tomorrow