The Big Catch

Janet had already lowered the beds and was in the upper bunk, her back to the room. Jason thought he caught a slight snore from her direction. Shrugging his shoulders he rolled into the bottom bunk, flicked the switch at the head of the bed turning out the lights. A soft glow came from the small nightlight above. There were several other fixtures aglow around the room. Shaking his head he closed his eyes and was soon asleep.

He woke to a warmth pressed against his stomach and chest. Groping around sleepily in the relative darkness revealed it to be Janet. As his hand closed around one of her breasts her hand shot out to move his to her stomach.

"No, not yet," she huffed, snuggling closer to him.

Jason didn't say a word, just relaxed, allowing her to roll closer to him. He pulled her tight. She sighed happily as he did. They lay there in the dark for sometime, neither sleeping. Then Janet's hand took Jason's and moved it to her breast. He squeezed gently. She moaned. She only let him for a moment, then moved his hand back to her stomach. Jason smiled as he nestled his face into her hair. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He savored the sweet smell of her shampoo. Strawberries and coconut. He felt himself drifting off to sleep.

Janet had been bold. Bolder than she had ever been before with Jason. She had moved to his bunk. While trying to figure out who it was, he had felt up her breast. She promptly moved his hand. Yet the feeling had been nice. Nice enough to let him feel her up again, but only for an instant. His embrace earlier that evening had been a promising start, but this was so much better. She went to sleep with him holding her close, smiling.

They woke up around three am, quite refreshed despite the unusual sleeping arrangement. Or was it because of it? They had breakfast, croissants and lots of coffee and adjourned to the observation car. Eventually, they grabbed a chess board and pieces from the book case and started to play.

Jason was ever watchful of the people around them as he played. Now that he was fully awake again, the unease was back. Not in the same, hair-raising intensity as back at Penn Station, but the feeling of imminent danger refused to go away. He found a worthy opponent in Janet. She was smart and at several points he thought he just might not win to her unorthodox style of play. It was close but he won the first match when Janet forgot to properly cover her Queen. That however, was the last he won. She trounced him but good the following three matches, seemingly guessing every play before he could execute his strategy. Maybe she started to know him too well. He finally conceded defeat and they switched to checkers.

Nineteen hours and five minutes to the minute, the train pulled into Union Station Chicago. It was nine-forty-five in the morning as the train halted. Jason and Janet were ready to disembark as the doors opened. Then they were in search of the big board to find their connection.

As Chicago's last remaining long-distance train hub, Union Station was utterly crowded. The pushing and jostling people did precious little to help Jason's unease. You'd never quite see the threat until it was too late, a lesson he had learned on the streets of Kandahar.

"Hey, relax," Janet said, touching his elbow. Jason shook his head and exhaled slowly. Yes, this wasn't the place.

"You know where we're going," Jason asked her, to get his mind off the past.

"Somewhat. We only need to find the big board. Shouldn't be too hard," she said. "Told ya, there it is," she said pointing the way.

"Excuse me," someone said, very close by. Jason whirled around, reminding himself to keep his hands off the gun.

"Excuse me, " the voice repeated. "I would like a quick word with you." A group of men, all wearing expensive suits, closed in on them. Their spokesman, a brick of a man, even more muscular than Jason, sporting a blond military buzz cut, smiled at them. But instead of reassuring, the smile put Jason on edge. "I think you have something that belongs to us," he said with a broad Eastern European accent, gesturing at the briefcase Jason had in his left hand.

"Sorry, you got the wrong people," Jason snapped, pulling Janet close. He brusquely turned his back to the men and gave her behind a small push. Obediently, Janet started to walk. Over his shoulder, he said, "Besides, we really don't have time to talk. We need to hurry after our connection."

"What's that all about?" she whispered.

"My gut," he grumbled back. Behind them, the men started shouting for them to come back, but a few moments later, the crowd had swallowed them.

A short time later, they stood before the big board. Janet scanned it for their platform, while Jason kept an eye on the crowd, watching for trouble. He still had the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Having been accosted on the platform as they disembarked was upsetting to say the least.

"Found it. Ah," Janet said looking around, "that way." She pointed to her left. Back the way they had come.

"Shit," Jason said. He quickly pulled Janet back behind a partition under the big board.

"What?" she asked.

"Our friends," he told her pointing into the crowd. The men were pushing people aside, very obviously looking for them.

"Oh. Can we get around them?"

"I think so. When I say go, you go. Straight ahead, try to merge with the crowd I'll be right behind you. Follow my instructions and we'll get to the train."

"Okay."

"Go," Jason said giving her a little push.

The pair walked normally out into the crowd. Jason kept an eye on the four thugs. Using a noisy gaggle of school kids out on a field trip for cover, they crossed their pursuer's path. When they could turn toward the platform they needed to go to, he whispered to Janet, "Right, now."

Janet turned right. Straight ahead of her was the platform entrance. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the four thugs as they headed in the opposite direction. "Don't look at them, just keep going," came Jason's voice behind her. She continued walking.

Within minutes they were on the platform and stepping up into the train. No conductor to show them where their room was this time. They hurried down the corridor until they found their stateroom. Entering, Jason immediately locked the door. The bottom berth was down. Janet sat and started to shake a little as a fine sheen of sweat covered her forehead.

Jason dropped his go bag on the floor and stood staring at the door. Any minute now, he expected there to be a knock or a crashing as the door was forced open. When nothing happened, he started to breathe again. He sat next to Janet and started to chuckle.

"Look at us?" he said. "The two big adventure seekers, scared witless."

"I'm not scared," Janet stammered. Jason just smiled at her.

"Of course you're not. Neither am I. Scared is what you get when the bullets are flying past your head as you try to make yourself smaller so the wall in front of you hides you completely. When the tweets of the rounds flying past your head are so loud you don't hear anything else. That's scared."

"You have had that experience...in Afghanistan?"

Jason turned to look at Janet. His eyes were hard, but when he caught her sympathetic smile, all the tension seemed to melt away. He breathed a soft sigh and felt his guts unwind..

"Yes."

Janet waited, but Jason didn't continue. She placed her arm around his shoulders and gently rested her head on his chest. Surprised at the sudden intimacy, he snaked an arm around her waist and hugged her back.

"You always smell so good," he said softly, taking another deep sniff of her hair.

"Thank you."

Janet didn't know what else to say. She knew he had a bad time when he was over in Afghanistan. She had read the parts of his file that hadn't been redacted. In order to do that she had hacked that part of the DOD database that housed records of retired personnel. In most cases systems didn't know you were hacking unless you tried to delete files, add files or change files. If you were just looking, unless some astute geek saw a strange user id was logged in, no one would know you had ever been there. No data was ever changed by just looking. Trying to download would trigger all kind of alarms, but just looking, nothing. Besides, what she looked at was part of the public record. It was the redacted part that was classified and she wouldn't even begin to know where to look for that.

"Do you think they will be on board?" Janet asked.

"I think they didn't see us board. Those guys didn't look like they would be riding trains for kicks. But maybe they have someone placed on board already. Would they try anything? I wouldn't think so. Where would we go anyway? If they're after the suitcase, they can easily wait until we're in Vegas. We should be fine until then.

"Las Vegas. There is a four hour wait for the train to San Francisco," Janet said.

"Yeah, I think we'll skip that leg of the journey. Rent a car and drive to San Fran. It'll be quicker."

They both jerked to attention as the train started to move. Then relaxed as they realized that was all that was happening. Both of them started laughing. Janet fell backwards onto the bed. Jason looked down at his hands. He held his SiG. He didn't remember pulling it. Slowly, he slipped it back into its holster. Looking back at Janet, Jason saw her slowly folding a knife he had only seen in her hand one other time. It was a tactical locker, pure black and mean looking. She made it disappear with a quick motion of her right hand. They looked at each other and began to laugh again.

Looking out the window, the pair watched as the train pulled out of the station and the cityscape started to pass by. Janet and Jason both sighed as the sun flashed on the tall glass buildings surrounding them.

"You hungry?" Jason asked.

"Not yet. Come, lie beside me, hold me. I suddenly need to be held," Janet said.

Jason laid down next to Janet. She scooted over into his strong arms. They cuddled as the train rumbled and rattled down the track.

A jerk woke Jason as the train rolled over a not quite closed switch. Janet was resting in his arms, so he was afraid to try and slip out from under her.

"I'm awake," she said, quietly moving off him. "Time to check out that private bath we have with this stateroom."

"Ah, yes, I'm next," Jason told her.

She giggled as she opened the door and ducked inside. Jason sat up and looked out the window. They were moving through farm country now. Checking his watch he saw they had been asleep for about an hour and a half. Enough time for the train to have moved out of the Chicago metropolitan area.

"Your turn," Janet called out.

Jason rushed to the bathroom, just now realizing how bad he needed to use it.

"I felt the same way," Janet called after him, giggling.

When Jason came out of the bathroom, Janet had changed clothes. She had a clean shirt laid out on the bed for him. Smiling gratefully, he changed.

"Now I'm hungry," she told him.

Jason flicked her a mock salute. "All right, then to the dining car."

He pulled his SiG from its holster, checked it over and replaced it so swiftly, Janet could almost believe it had never happened. He opened the door, looked up and down the corridor quickly.

"All clear," he said standing aside to let her go first.

"Such a gentleman. This is why I haven't really had to tell you about the first six rules. Rule one, always open the door for the lady."

"Ah, etiquette. I'm good with etiquette." Jason made sure the door was locked and hefted the briefcase in his left hand. "I believe the dining car is forward, my lady."

"Thank you sir," Janet replied, giggling.

They walked up the corridor, transiting through several cars before they arrived at the dining car. It wasn't very crowded and they were seated quickly. Their order was taken, drinks served and they were left to themselves rather promptly.

"Wow, talk about service," Janet quipped, taking a sip of her water.

"Hmm, yes, rather spectacular," Jason replied, inconspicuously observing their surroundings. Keen-eyed Janet noticed it, though.

"What are you doing?"

"Having a gander at the other guests and wondering which one is the one."

"Ah, yes. Have you found...him...her...yet?"

"No. And you're right, it could be anyone now."

They looked at each other for a minute, then each took a sip of their water. Their lunch came quickly after that. Jason had the burger and fries with a chocolate milkshake. Janet had the fish sandwich with coleslaw and a strawberry shake.

"Oh, this is quite good," she said after taking the first bite. "If I had only known meals were this good on trains, I would have been taking them instead of planes. Good food far outweighs saving time."

"Yes. Sometimes taking the long way is more pleasurable than the quick way," Jason replied looking pointedly at Janet's tits.

Janet blushed slightly, then quickly went back to eating her meal. They enjoyed their meal in companionable silence while around them the car was becoming more crowded.

"You know this is going to take thirty-five hours?" Janet asked between bites.

"Really? Oh crap. What will we ever do to keep from going bat shit crazy?"

"I'm sure I don't know," Janet replied, smiling a sly little smile as she turned her face to look out the window next to her. In her mind she still felt Jason's hand gently caressing her breast as his hard member pressed against her ass.

"You know...I have been thinking," Janet said, her face sobering.

"About what?"

"Scarletti. He was different after...when he came from the back of the shop."

"Tell me again what you heard?" Jason prompted.

"I head a door open and close. Then some muffled voices. A few bumps and thumps. Then Scarletti came out to give me the case. His hair was mussed, his clothing disheveled and he was extremely nervous. Like he wanted to get rid of me in a hurry. Then he wouldn't let me open the case. Said it was...it would be bad for whoever tried. Some kind of booby trap...gas, explosives, small charge no doubt. Wouldn't want to bring down a whole block. Or would he?"

"Well, then we won't be fiddling with this until we deliver it to the Countess."

"Good idea," Janet said sarcastically. She then smiled at Jason to alleviate some of the pain. "Well shall we go to the club car?"

"Why not?"

The pair got up and walked back to the club cars. Again the last car was the bar car. Even though it was only a little past noon, they ordered drinks, found a table by the window and sat. As they sipped their drinks, they both saw her at the same time. Slim, dark hair, long, flawless complexion, dark eyes, nice boobs and hips that swayed when she walked. Both Janet and Jason sighed silently.

"Uh..."

"Yeah, I know. She's coming over here," Jason whispered.

The woman had stopped to look around the bar car. When she spotted Janet and Jason, she made a beeline for their table. As she arrived, Jason stood, his feet firmly planted with the briefcase between them.

"Ah, here you are," she said, her words heavily accented. To Jason's ear she was Russian. "Let me introduce myself, Natasha Zolnerowich, Russian Federal Security Service."

"FSB, huh?. And you have business with us, Miss Zolnerowich?" Jason asked.

"May I sit?"

"Yes, of course, please." Ever the gentleman. Janet just glared at her.

"Thank you," Natasha purred, flashing him a radiant smile.

"You haven't asked our names," Jason commented.

"No."

"Then I assume you already know who we are?"

"I do."

"Then what is it that you want?" Janet snapped, venom in her voice.

"Ah, straight to the point. Well, my dear, I am here because we believe you have something that belongs to the people of Russia."

"I'm pretty sure we have not," Jason said matter-of-factly.

"But Mister Schroeder, you haven't even heard what it is I think you have."

"True, but we know what we have and unless the Countess De Laurentis of Abajur is a jewel thief of some repute..."

"Of course not, Jason. May I call you Jason?"

"Of course... Natasha."

"Oh please," Janet muttered under her breath. She silently gnashed her teeth as she was ignored by both.

"What is it that you think we may have?" Jason ventured.

"I'm going back to our stateroom.," Janet said abruptly, loud enough for everyone in the club car to hear. She stood, went to the bar and ordered another drink to take with her. She also slipped a piece of paper to the hunky looking bartender as he took her order.

"Um," Jason stammered knowing he had to escort her back, thus leaving the intriguing Natasha. "I gotta go too then. Perhaps another time, Natasha?"

"Of course, it is a long train ride." She looked disappointed.

Jason stood, case in hand, and followed Janet out and down the corridor to their stateroom. Not a word was spoken all the way there. Once inside, with the door closed, Janet turned on Jason.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

"I was trying to find out who she really is. What she wanted, what she thinks we are carrying in this case," Jason said holding up the item in question.

"Well, it looked a whole lot different from where I was sitting, but I guess it would be good to have that kind of information. Sorry. I was just..."

"Don't. Let's just let it pass for now. There is too much at stake for us to..."

"You're right. Go. Go talk to Miss Zolnerowich. Find out what you can. I'll lock the door for now. I'll be quite safe," she said, making her tactical knife appear as if by magic. "Quite safe." The knife disappeared.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Muscles, I'm sure. Go already."

Jason was out the door and headed back to the bar car in a flash. Janet locked the door and went in the bathroom to take a shower, stowing the case under the sink.

Minutes later Jason was once again sitting with the lovely Natasha, talking, of all things, about Janet.

"So how long have you two been together?" the dark-haired beauty asked, sipping at her drink, a dry Vodka Martini.

"Oh, we're not together, not like you are thinking, we are partners in the company we own."

"Really?"

"Yes, of course. We are simply co-workers. Co-owners."

"If you say so. Hm, isn't it awfully loud? Why don't we move this discussion somewhere else, maybe my stateroom?" Natasha suggested.

"Why? If you have something you want to talk about, we can do it here. I don't mind the the crowd," Jason said, casting a meaningful glare around.

"But I do. I have reason to believe you're being followed, and what I need to tell you isn't meant for the wrong ears. Come on, I won't bite."

"And here I thought you were the one following us," Jason grumbled, taking a sip from his drink.

"No, that would imply that I had to search for you. But I knew exactly where to look, so I was merely meeting you. How about it?"

"Fine. No fancy moves, you hear?"

Smiling, Natasha rose and led Jason out of the club car. A non-descript man, sitting at a corner table, stood and slowly followed the pair. Natasha's stateroom wasn't all that far from Jason and Janet's. Two cars back from theirs. As Natasha closed the door, the snick of the lock being set was overly loud in the small space.

"Did you notice the man following us?" Natasha asked Jason, turning to face him.

"Who's he?"

"A bad, bad man. You'd better watch out—"

The train lurched and threw her into Jason's arms. Nose to nose, Jason gazed into her dark gray eyes. He smelled her musky perfume and felt every curve of her body, pressed against him. Something deep inside him, almost forgotten under all the dark wartime memories, reawakened. He felt aroused, for the first time in ages.