Consequences Unforeseen

July 22nd - 24th "PITER" Russia

The 'Red Arrow' possessed the track that it sat upon more than it occupied it. Bill Douglas thought it hard to explain how a train could project such a presence as this highly polished red steel contraption did. Sitting at the furthermost point in the large Moscow Leningradskaya station, it presented itself as true royalty amongst the array of impressive railway hardware on display.

A pure thoroughbred of a device with a past encompassing the transportation of Heads of State, Kings and Queens and the occasional assassin. Since 1931 it had traversed the distance in both directions between Moscow and St. Petersburg with grace and opulence provided to those able to book passage.

Bill Douglas stood off to the side with his back leaning against the concourse wall, one leg tucked up at the knee with his foot also resting on the wall. He looked to all who bothered to glance his way, like a tourist wishing he could afford the price of a ticket on this pride of the Russian Railroads. He had an Obolon beer can in his hand and drank from it occasionally to maintain a relaxed tourist persona. It was his excuse – he really liked the stuff.

His posture belied his true state of being. He was tense and unusual for him a bit apprehensive. Not a lover of trains at the best of times, he felt the looming eight hours ahead of him trapped in a steel coffin of a train to be the last thing on earth he wanted to be doing. Only the lure of Aleksandra's inside knowledge and her role to date in his upcoming work saw him prepared to take the journey.

Hi Uncle John chided him unreservedly, "Christ laddie, ye've watched 'Murder on the orient Express' too many times. They'll no be comin' tae git ye on here the night for God's sake. Naebody knows yer even here!"

Bill didn't bother with a rebuttal, but knowing the old bastard would hear him anyway, he reflected, 'He's right, but this trip seems a bit redundant tae me. Aleksandra could've surely met me in Moscow as she first said, or called me. It smells o' rotten fish in my mind'

She'd done him proud though, so to speak, with arranging carriage on this thing of beauty. He could only imagine the funds she must have lodged to provide him with the well named Lux Cabin designated on his ticket.

Watching for close to an hour allowed him to observe the majority of the night's passengers embark, but close to the 'witching hour' of departure at twelve midnight, he pulled away from the wall and approached the security/ticket collection area.

No one travelling on this particular train would ever be seen arriving early. There might have been a few tourists in the first couple of hours, but even they were dropped off by some impressive automobiles and were intent on enjoying time in 'The Venice of the North,' as 'Piter' was otherwise known.

The entry personnel barely glanced at his papers, merely checking his ticket against the manifest documents. "Dobro pozhalovat' na bort. Naslazhdaytes' poyezdkoy, Mister Duhglas." Was all that was said. This last word making Douglas smile and his Uncle John echo, "Meester Duhglass be damned, welcome aboard and enjoy yer journey it is. Eight hoors on this bloody thing will drive me crazy. They better hae some booze!"

If the exterior of the train was impressive to the eye, then the interior's extravagant elegance surpassed all expectations. The greeting itself on entry was outstanding enough, given as it was by an exceptionally beautiful young lady, dressed immaculately in a body hugging uniform that left zero to the imagination.

She said with a smile, "Ah, Mister Duglas, ya zhdal tebya. Aleksandra poruchil mne vzyat' samoye luchsheye zabotu o vas segodnya vecherom. Poydem so mnoy, pozvol'te mne pokazat' vam, k vashemu kayute."