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October 31st, a hotel room in Hamburg, Germany:Getting his stuff together to catch the night train to Munich, Casino was in a pissy mood, not that the rest of the team were in a much better frame of mind, except maybe for their leader, Lieutenant Craig Garrison. HE was bright-eyed and enthusiastic, not exactly bouncing on the balls of his feet, but giving the distinct impression he would be considering it if it hadn't been decidedly un-officer-like.Well, as they all knew first hand, give the Warden a new challenge and he was generally enthusiastic. Them, maybe not so much, especially now. They were tired, hungry, and the next part of the operation had some new elements, ones none of them, particularly Casino, were all that comfortable with. Explosive elements. Face it, the safecracker-cum-explosives expert preferred his explosives on the basic side, much like he preferred his women. Simple, uncomplicated, predictable, with a big satisfying bang at the end - that was the ticket as far as he was concerned. This trip, things weren't all that simple and he wasn't happy about it.It wasn't as if they were coming in fresh from England, either. First there was that job in Denmark, one he still had a hard time believing they'd pulled off without anyone getting their lights put out for good. Hell, thanks to that smooth con by the Warden, no one had even gotten roughed up. {"Well, not much anyhow,"} he thought guiltily, avoiding looking at Chief, knowing the bruises the Indian had received had been pretty much due to Casino getting overly ambitious with a blonde wearing a nice set of D-cups. Chief hadn't said much, although Casino had heard plenty from the others, none of it complimentary. He figured the kid was just biding his time, would wait to have his say later once they were back. Hell, he sure hoped so; maybe he'd think of a good excuse by that time. He was pretty sure his usual bullshit wasn't going to make the grade this time.Anyhow, once that job was over, there hadn't been a break, not going back for debriefing or anything, just getting into position for the next part of the job. Well, a totally separate job as far as he could tell, but still . . . Now they were headed from Hamburg to Munich on another of those supposed 'milk runs' that they kept being sent on. {'Just deliver the package to our contact in Munich, help him relocate it to the possession of a local authority, all without that gentleman becoming aware. Hardly a difficult task, you must agree. Oh, and there is the matter of that weapons laboratory to be eliminated, but that is quite the ordinary for you and your men, and the level of security is appallingly bad, or so I'm told.' That's what our so-called 'Handler' claimed alright. Yeah, right. If that's all there is to it, why do they need us, and why has the Warden got that gleam in his eye?"}Like Casino believed that was likely to be the case, it being just a 'milk run', at least not after hearing those promises made so often and not once having it play out that way. And having Major Johns as their Handler on this mission didn't help his confidence level one little bit.Shit, that guy was not only a total asshole, as far as the team was concerned, but more importantly, he was too quick to accept the word of so-called 'experts' and far too quick to shrug off the sensible precautions and preparation a job like this needed. In the major's opinion, if it looked good on paper, then there was no reason for it not to work just as good in the field. In other words, the guys agreed Johns was pretty much of an idiot, although that wasn't the only word Casino could come up with to describe him, just the first one that came to mind that wouldn't have Garrison yelling at him. He didn't think Garrison actually thought any different about the guy, just felt he had to do the officer bit.The only good thing, Casino figured, was that Major Kingston wasn't involved this time; somehow, THAT guy was a real jinx for the team and their missions. As in, when Kingston was the one sending them out, even being involved at any level, they could bet on something going wrong, sometimes EVERYTHING going wrong.Still, Garrison had a plan for what would happen once they got to Munich, and with him in charge, Casino figured they had a decent chance of pulling it off. Still, two jobs, back-to-back, in two countries, was testing the whole team's endurance and their patience."Sure as hell hope this works, after us spending the last few weeks doing all that planning and training and traveling and shit," Casino groused, checking his traveling case carefully for probably the hundredth time. He was getting paranoid about that case, wishing they could have done this part of the job first just so he'd be rid of the damned thing by now. Still, everything looked okay, just the same as the last time he'd checked it. The small but thick leather-bound train timetable, in actuality a cleverly disguised form of high explosive, was tucked away safely in an inner pocket, well padded by the folded clothes surrounding it. A few pages of that torn out, crumpled together, and you might as well be holding a couple sticks of dynamite. Considering how many pages were in there, he was carrying the equivalent of a couple cases of the more familiar stick dynamite he was so familiar with. The fuse cord was in place, not easily spotted, at least not for what it really was, looking just like the silky brown lining had a thick binding all around it at the seams, what was supposedly called 'gimp', at least according to Beautiful, who thought he knew everything about everything. The miniature detonators, twenty of them, looked just like the other inch-long decorative metal bars marching along the outer rim of the case on each side, nothing to tell the detonators from the harmless ones separating them, not unless you knew the secret. He brushed his finger over a few of them, the same as he had done every other time he'd inspected the case, just in case they were heating up or something. {"First two at bottom left on each side is safe, then every other one is the bang-bang shit. That is, if the guys putting this together didn't get careless, or have a hangover, or forget how to count,"} he thought uncomfortably. Trusting someone else with the stuff he had to work with, he didn't like that one little bit, but it wasn't like he'd been given any choice.He was a more little nervous about that whole setup, especially those detonators on the outside of the case, had been from the beginning. Yeah, the 'experts' who'd come up with the idea had assured Casino that they wouldn't go off if the case got dropped on its side or bumped accidentally, but all it would take was for them to be wrong about just one and he and the others would go up with a bang and a boom. Now, he'd be the first to admit that if he had to kick the bucket, going out with a bang wouldn't be the worst way to go. {"Just not THAT kind of a bang, ya know?"} he thought to himself.Chief saw that repeated fingering of the case and rolled his eyes in annoyance mixed with concern. He thought about just keeping his mouth shut, but decided SOMEONE needed to step up and pull the safecracker out of that nervous spell that was riding him and soon, before it all went south in a hurry. Garrison was totally focused on that map he had spread out on the table, so there was no help there. He knew Actor would just piss the safecracker off even more if HE said anything, and Goniff had already popped a few zingers in Casino's direction, so he sighed to himself and said what needed to be said. There was more than needed saying other than this, but he'd save that for when they got back, where if fists started flying it wouldn't put the team at risk."You got that right, Pappy, but will you stop playing around with those things?! Gonna wear them down til they're ready to go off, just with your handling them all the time," Chief grumbled, giving that case a wary look. He trusted Casino with most explosives; the man knew his business backwards and forwards, but this was new stuff, stuff Casino had only had a few days to work with. And if Casino was nervous about working with it, and he obviously was, no one else was going to be any more relaxed.Ignoring all that in favor of a far more urgent matter, Goniff proclaimed as his stomach let out a low grumble of complaint, "been gone so much, what with the training being all over the ruddy place, then that spot of business in Denmark, I've even lost track of what day it is. Even lost track of 'ow many meals we've missed, except it's too many. What's the odds of grabbing something before we 'ead out, Lieutenant?", all that accompanied by an eager smile and a hopeful look."Not all that great, Goniff. We have just enough time to catch our train and that's it. Sorry, but think of what it'll do for keeping your girlish figure," Garrison told his decidedly wiry pickpocket with a rueful smile, getting a snort of amused disgust in reply. Folding the map, tucking it away safely in an inside pocket, the leader rose to glance at each of his men, now waiting for him to give them their marching orders. Garrison knew Goniff was right; they all could use a good meal. It just hadn't been in the cards. There had been too many delays in places where food was in short supply, too little time in places where they could have gotten a decent meal - he figured they would each lose a few pounds before this was over. Of course, he knew if that was the most they lost on this job, on ANY job, they'd be lucky. No matter what HQ said, this was no milk run; at his most optimistic, he gave them a 60/40 chance of pulling it off and making it back alive.{"Less, if the experts are wrong about those new detonators. Still, I doubt we could have smuggled the usual in our bags without some nosy inspector getting wise, especially crossing from Denmark into Germany. And as far as Goniff losing track of the date, I'm just as happy about that. I'm sure not going to mention it's October 31st. No sense nudging them into letting their imaginations get carried way with them, and heaven knows they have before. I don't need them jittery, not now."}"Alright, nice and easy, just like we planned," he ordered calmly. "Actor, you and Casino lead out. Chief, you and Goniff are with me. Just ordinary travelers, nothing special."Actor sniffed, brushing his fingers against his crisp uniform with its bright insignia and row of medals. "I would hardly call two officers of our rank and appearance 'ordinary', Craig. The others, perhaps, most assuredly," giving a slightly disdainful look at the others in their more humble attire, certainly none approaching his and Garrison's assumed rank, "however, that is only as it should be," as he shrugged dismissively."Knew I shouldn't 'ave got 'im that one with all the bird trot on it," Goniff said in a wry aside, rolling his eyes at the others. "Goes right to 'is 'ead, it does, every time.""Hell, Limey, how can you tell? On any ordinary day Beautiful there's got his nose so far in the air, he'd drown if it came up a heavy rain," Casino said scornfully, looking at the Italian preening in the mirror, fingering those shining medals and insignia with such satisfaction. Actor had not particularly endeared himself to the other team members recently, and they were getting a little of their own back now, except for Chief, and even he was showing some faint amusement at the takedowns he was witnessing."Alright, knock it off," Garrison said calmly, bringing them back in line. "No talking, don't draw attention to yourselves, just get to the train. We have a compartment; we'll still have to be careful, but it's less dangerous than open seating. I'll try to keep anyone else from joining us, especially anyone of the female persuasion. Maybe that'll keep Casino from making the same mistakes he made in Denmark," giving the safecracker a stern look."Coo, ain't that the truth! Chatting up a bird is one thing, and I know she was your type and all, but even I know 'wie wär, Babe?' is a dumb thing to say seeings where we were and all. Didn't even call 'er 'Nydelig' like Corporal Miller says is the thing over in Denmark, or even 'Schatzi' or anything like that, just 'Babe', flat out in American, and let's face it, your accent is as bad as mine, Casino. And there you were, expecting 'er to think you're the boy next door and 'ave 'er all eager for a nice toss, or at least a nice drink and a quick grope in the corner! Lucky Chief put the mug on 'er, even if 'e did get a little bunged up doing it, so we could get out of there before she spoiled the whole game," Goniff scolded his now sheepish looking teammate. They'd left the skillet-wielding, buxom and highly-indignant blonde bound and gagged in a kitchen cupboard, to be discovered when the place opened again the next day. She'd been lucky; there were those who would have taken more permanent means of shutting her up."Yeah, Pappy. You keep forgetting which head you're supposed to be thinking with, gonna get both of them shot off one of these days. Maybe ours too," Chief added with one raised brow of reproof. {"Maybe by me,"} was the silent warning evident in those dark eyes. Yeah, Casino knew they were right, but hell, a blonde beauty with a figure like that, pouty lips he could just picture milking him dry - it had been sheer instinct on his part. He just hated that Chief had been the ones getting the bruises out of what followed.And he didn't know as how his accent was THAT bad. He'd made Corporal Miller back at the Mansion teach him how to say 'what's up, Babe' in German (and French, and several other of the many languages Miller seemed to know). Hell, never know where you might end up, and that had aways been a good intro on his part before. Most times, didn't need much more than that, letting nature take its course, letting body language say everything else that needed saying."Can it, Goniff, all of you. Let's go," Garrison ordered. He was tense with anticipation of the mission ahead. It wouldn't be any milk run, he was sure of that, no matter the assurances that had been made by Major Johns. Still, it was doable, at least if the intel was right, and that wasn't something he'd know til he got a good look at the layout once they got to Munich.{"At least they haven't brought up the date, at least not yet, not directly anyway. Maybe it's not just Goniff; maybe they've all lost track of the days, not realized it's October 31st. In a way, it's a relief. Bad enough to be out on a job right now. It's not that I think they'd get up to any nonsense, not here, but sometimes I think Chief and Meghada are right; it's better not to talk about certain things that might be drawn in by the extra attention, especially on Halloween,"} remembering the prior year at the Mansion. Still, he wasn't sure he was up to another Halloween at the Mansion yet either; twelve months just wasn't long enough to be ready to go through that again. Suppressing a shudder at the memories, he focused on getting their group out the door and on the way to the train station.It was almost too easy, and that alone should have made him suspicious of how long their good luck would hold. No one stopped them, no one bumped into them; it almost seemed like the flow of people, going in their direction or opposing it, opened up a clear path for them to the platform. {"It's like we're destined to be on that train,"} he thought, and surprisingly, it was an uneasy thought, one that make the hackles on the back of his neck stand to attention.Actor and Casino boarded first, Garrrison and the others stepping aside to let several people climb the metal steps before following. There was some jostling in the narrow passageway, but it was all accompanied by polite nods and vague smiles. Even when that burly man with the jowls befitting an elderly bloodhound accidentally knocked Goniff face-first into the wall with the heavy bag the man had slung over his shoulder, the pickpocket only grunted at the hard impact, then pulled himself upright, turned, smiled and nodded as he accepted what the pickpocket figured was probably an apology, not that he could understand a word the man was saying. Still, his response seemed to make everyone happy, including Garrison, so Goniff figured it was all good except for him getting a few bruises. At least he hadn't broken his nose, and as hard as he'd slammed into that wall, he thought he might have. {"Pretty sure Actor would 'ave, 'is is long enough,"} he chuckled silently to himself.Once in the compartment, they relaxed somewhat, settling down some distance from each other, making sure there was no room for anyone else to comfortably sit. Garrison made sure to position himself closest to the door, ready to answer any questions or challenges that might come, as well as to dissuade any newcomer thinking to share the compartment. But no such questions or challenges came, and no one intruded on their privacy other than the attendant, after a couple of hours or so, announcing the opening of the dining car.Folding the newspaper he'd brought with him, Garrison nodded in response to the hopeful looks he was getting. They'd been on a tight time schedule and there really hadn't been time to grab something earlier. Come to think of it, there hadn't been an opportunity the previous day either, so he decided to take the risk. They needed nourishment to maintain their concentration, and one thing they had all learned well - you ate and rested whenever you got the chance, as it might be a long time before the chance came along again."Alright, we'll eat, but Actor and I will do the ordering. And we keep to ourselves," casting a warning look around at the eager men hurrying to their feet."That means no chatting up a likely blonde, Casino," Goniff smirked as he patted his hair smooth, "even if she DOES 'ave carpets out to 'ere," motioning expansively as if to demonstrate, almost losing his balance in the moving train in the process."And that also means you keep your sticky fingers under control, Goniff. I want the silverware, salt and pepper shakers and everything else glittery left behind and not brought back as a souvenir," Garrison warned, though with a slight smile. Somehow no one except Goniff could come up with something to make him smile under such conditions; probably no one else would even think to do so intentionally. He'd come to increasingly depend on his pickpocket to do that, easing the pressure just a little, leaving him a little more focused and with a clearer mind.They were just leaving the compartment when the lights flickered and then went out, leaving the corridor in total darkness for a moment. They froze, balancing themselves against the wall of the corridor as the train obviously rounded a sharp curve. Then the lights returned, although much dimmer, and they heaved a joint sigh of relief. Crossing the telescoping enclosure that led from their car to another, then through a second such protection, they soon reached the dining car, warm, well-lit, the aroma of warm food and the welcome sight of white coated waiters bearing menus and offering drinks getting their attention.Looking around, Garrison could see the dining car was thinly occupied, all individuals, no groups. Quickly assessing, he could tell the original plan of sitting together would draw too much attention, even if they were all sharing a compartment. A quick signal and Actor and Casino moved to one table, Garrison and the others to one close but not adjacent. From where he was sitting, he could clearly see the Destination board, 'Munich' showing clearly.Dinner was acceptable but nothing to linger over, especially since Garrison had laid down the law about one drink each and no more, and they were soon ready to head back to the privacy of their compartment. Garrison stood, Goniff and Chief right behind him; he knew Actor and Casino would wait a minute or two before following along.They were partway down the aisle of the lounge car when the lights flickered and dimmed, then went out once again. When they came back on, though still slightly dimmed, Garrison was shocked to see the group had gotten separated; indeed, the others were nowhere in sight.His lips firmed in annoyance; they knew better than that. He'd given strict orders, after all. It seemed he was going to have to have a few words when they all got back to the compartment; they were in enemy territory, no time to be playing fast and loose with the plan."Come, join me. It is too lovely an evening to be alone," a husky yet feminine voice addresed him, and he looked down at a side table to see a striking platinum blonde woman with a bulky white wrap around her shoulders. He started to politely decline, but somehow found himself seated opposite her without having any intention of doing so.She smiled seductively at him as she deftly laid out cards from a tarot deck onto the snowy white tablecloth. "You wish your fortune read, I see. Very well. Let us see what your future holds for you. The evening is long, I am bored and have nothing else to do, and you are very handsome," she purred at him. While that compliment might have been gratifying under other circumstances, something about the calculating look in her eyes, a look that held far too much amusement for his comfort. {"And that music isn't helping,"} he realized, wondering where it was coming from. It hadn't been playing during their dinner, certainly. Wherever, it tugged at his nerves, ruffled his senses in atavistic dread. It was just wrong, slightly off-key, slightly out of tempo, disturbing at an instinctive level. And there was something wrong about that Destination Board on the wall above the entrance, although he was no longer in a position to see it as clearly as before. Still, it didn't look right; there were too many letters there now.Still, he smiled graciously, and shook his head politely. "No, I do not need my fortune read. I need to find my companions. My apologies for intruding," he said, starting to rise, but finding himself unable to do so. It was as if he was frozen in place, only able to move his head, possibly his hands, but certainly not his legs. She chuckled low in her throat.Garrison shot her a startled look, then gasped involuntarily when the bulky white wrap around her shoulders started to move and then slid down heavily to rest partway on the table beside the cards."This is Berta," the blonde cooed. "She is my assistant in reading the cards, as well as reading those individuals for whom I do the readings. She is most talented and quite affectionate, likes nothing so much as a good hug and a kiss, am I right, Sweetheart?" puckering her lips and demonstrating that kiss. The sight of the woman and the python, lips touching, made Garrison want to gag, but somehow he kept the polite smile on his face.The large white snake, probably a good seven foot long if stretched out, shifted positions and reared its sleek head, putting it at eye level with Garrison. Now he found he had ceased breathing under the attention of those two sets of eyes, each bearing a cold and eager hunger. Berta flicked her tongue out at him, and the blonde laughed softly under her breath at his quick jerk backwards."Come, let me show you what lies in store," and against his will, he found himself watching her hand as she calmly turned over the cards, explaining the meaning of each as she went. It seemed she was promising a great deal of confusion, betrayal, pain, death in large quantities, nothing to look forward to, certainly. He found himself thinking that was a very poor business model, being that pessimistic in her predictions, probably resulting in few, if any, repeat customers. That detached assessment didn't mean he was ignoring the python, just that his attention was divided. Divided enough he missed the slow advance of that white head, only to be startled by the touch of a cold weight on his shoulder and the rapid glide of those silky coils around his throat. Reaching up to grab the reptile and unsuccessfully trying to pull it away, he caught the laughing eyes of the fortune teller as she leaned forward to kiss him on the lips. He didn't want that, suddenly would have done almost anything to avoid that. He started to yell, hoping his men would hear, would come to help him, distract her if nothing else, maybe setting him free in the process. But then it wasn't the blonde beauty pressing her pouting lips against his, but the python, and he had a sudden horror of beng forced to open his mouth, forced to give it an entrance. It flicked its tongue out, insistently caressing his lips again and again, pressed tighter and tighter, coiling higher and higher around his head, until he could no longer breathe, could feel his eyes dimming. Then, the music faded and it was gone, SHE was gone, only the tarot deck still laid out on that crisp white tablecloth, still promising disaster. Garrison rubbed his bruised neck, coughed with the lingering tightness in his throat, and looked around. The soft sound of conversation, the gentle clink of silverware against china, now replaced that odd music. The other diners, more of them now, were engaged with each other or dining in solitary splendor, a few with a newspaper or a book in front of them. Impossible as it seemed, no one had taken any notice of the horror he had just experienced.Pausing only to obtain a bottle of spirits from the dining car attendant, hoping he had been successful in hiding his gut-wrenching reaction to that disturbing experience, he rapidly made his way down the corridor and into the next car, then the next,toward the compartment where he hoped his men would be waiting. Shuddering, he remembered that stream of dire predictions, forcing himself to NOT remember the tight embrace of the white python, the cold pressure of its lips against his. The flickering of the lights, the resumption of that music, shifted his mind away from those very disturbing events to the possibility of new events just as disturbing. He wasn't wrong. The corridor walls were becoming distorted, faces, more like death masks, now protruding from the formerly smooth surface as if their owners were caught in the walls, forcing the material outward, their outlines clearly visible. First faces, then hands, stretching the metal of the walls outward, those hands extending as if to grasp him and pull him into the walls himself. Muted screams seemed to underlie the music now. He moved to the center of the corridor and still those hands, now reaching for him from each side, were only inches away.The music was getting louder and faster, almost overwhelming in its intensity. Clutching his hands over his ears, still holding onto that bottle of spirits, he staggered onward toward their compartment. Somehow that seemed like a safe haven, if only because he had backup there, at least if his men had made it back safely. He only hoped they had, that they hadn't run into problems of their own.Finally reaching the door he was searching for, he grasped the handle and pushed inside, the music still pulsing, although now a slower, fainter presence. Searching urgently for the familiar faces of his men, he let out a breath of relief at the four figures sitting there. Until they turned their faces towards him. In the dim light, the flickering of reds and greens and blues from the reflection from the windows as they passed through an unnamed city, they looked distorted, morphing constantly from one shape to another, each almost monsterous in appearance. The feeling of eagerness from each of them seemed predatory, drove him back against the door, his safe haven no longer seeming so safe after all.Then the lights settled and their forms, their faces, were familiar once more, the oppressing sense of danger gone, and he swallowed heavily, feeling himself slump back against the wall."Ei, Lieutenant. You doing alright? Don't look it so much. We thought we'd lost you for awhile. What the ruddy 'ell is going on around 'ere?" Goniff exclaimed, rising, swaying with the motion of the train, to come toward Garrison with a worried expression on his face."Craig, sit down before you fall down," Actor urged with a frown, watching as Garrison blinked at Goniff as if coming out of a deep sleep. {"Or a nightmare, perhaps"} thought the conman, knowing what he himself had just experienced, what the others seemed to have experienced as well. Letting himself drop on to the nearest seat, Garrison leaned his head against the upholstered backrest and let out a deep sigh."You would not believe what just happened," he started, quickly amending that to "or at least, which I think MAYBE just happened!"And they listened, and almost reluctantly, related their own experiences. It would seem his hopes they had managed to avoid trouble had been premature. Somehow, though, he was pretty sure it wasn't their fault; it wasn't likely they'd have gone looking for those experiences. He knew he sure as hell hadn't.Despite of a good swallow from the bottle Garrison had managed to hang onto, Goniff was still pale from his finding himself separated from the others, caught unawares as the telescoping walls that separated one car from the other slid open, leaving him frantically trying to balance on the increasingly narrow metal beams below. Sometimes he could see the metal train tracks below him, interspersed with the gravel that framed them. Sometimes, there was nothing at alll below, only vast canyons of darkness, sometimes a billowing green fog.That was bad enough, but when he finally made his way across, more on his hands and knees than upright, then the corridor kept getting more and more narrow, seemingly trying to crush him before he managed to squeeze past. That had been accompanied by the windows of the compartments sporting the sneering, drooling images of monsters just waiting to pull him into their embrace."Then I got back 'ere, and Casino was sitting there like a ruddy statue or something. Chiefy was all curled up on the floor, eyes shut and making these awful sounds. Couldn't get them to say a word or even look at me. Never been so glad to see Actor in my life," he proclaimed, still slightly shocky from the experience, the complaint in his voice far too forced to be considered real annoyance.Actor hadn't been any happier with his story of the lovely women who'd called to him from a round table and accompanying blue velvet banquette in the lounge car. "They called to me, their smiles as sweet as their voices. I found myself seating alongside them, enjoying a glass of wine, when they began to change, their faces, their bodies morphing into decayed creatures so horrific as to be unimaginable by anyone of sound mind. It took all that I possessed to pull myself away and escape their clutches; I can still hear their laughter as I fled."He told the truth, at least as far as it went. They HAD called out to him, those lovely women, promising sweet delights, at least before that enchanting image quickly became the stuff of nightmares. What he neglected to tell Garrison and the others was that he had recognized each of the women as being past lovers, or the frightful knowledge they had imparted to him before he had fled in horror.He had listened as Marisa spoke of his responsibility for their current condition; that in taking them into his bed, he had doomed them to this fate. That had shattered his self-confidence, at least for the time being. He wondered if it might have done the same on a more permanent basis, knew he would think of that before he approached another woman in the future.Jumaji seemed to lead them, and that was probably as it should be. She was a beautiful woman, also, as with the rest, a past lover. This night he'd learned, to his great dismay, she had been a reigning voodo queen in Haiti, where he had met her. She had frowned at him tonight, lips pursed in annoyance as she explained. It had been painful in the extreme to learn he had, all unaware, been groomed for the role of her Consort, had started his necessary transition before he'd abruptly left for Madrid when he had found her possssive attentions less than appealing. That had all been an unpleasant shock, of course. To further hear that because of that, any woman he took to his bed was fated to die as soon as he left them, then to disentegrate into the walking undead - that was something he wanted desperately to disbelieve, but the ruined bodies and faces of these women gave him no support for that disbelief. Now, in the compartment, he DID detail, in far more openness and honesty, the journey back to the compartment in search of his compatriots, a journey enlivened by vile and monsterous things jumping out of doorways at him to the sound of maniacal tittering, the floor beneath him treacherous with insects and slithering creatures that crunched and squished under his feet and made the surface slippery with their crushed bodies."When I arrived, the other three were here, Casino not responding, Goniff almost frantic, and Chief, he was by then conscious but with a lingering sense of dread clinging to him past what he could help letting us see."As for Chief, his story was different. Far from interacting with other passengers or dealing with a corridor gone berserk, he had suddenly found himself in a crowded bare train car, no furniture or seats, just bare metal slated walls, as they barrelled through the night. Garrison and the others weren't there, but he wasn't alone. In fact, there were so many people jammed together he couldn't move, could barely breathe. There was an air of despair that replaced the oxygen, mixing in an especially foul manner with the stench from a multitude of sources, not least the overwhelming fear that overhung everything and everyone, from the bewildered children to the oldest of the men and women. "Then I was back here, just outside the door, made it through, then fell. That's the last I remember til I came to just a little while ago."Casino's story seemed not as disturbing as the others, at least on the surface, not to begin with. That changed pretty quickly. "Yeah, I thought the walls on the way back were maybe closing in on me, but I figured it was one of those optical illusions Beautiful was going on about a month or so ago. Thought my dinner was maybe a little off, ya know? "I got back here, wondered where you all were, but figured I'd check the case one more time before I went looking. At first it was okay, except for that creepy music they'd started piping in here. Then, just when I got to the door, I looked back over at the case with the explosives; it just seemed off somehow. Then I see those detonators, the bars, they're starting to glow bright red, and I was damned sure that wasn't supposed to happen. I touch one and it's hot, hot enough to burn my fingers. I figure that's no good, that if they get hot enough, they might just set the whole thing off, and we have enough in that chunk to blow a big hole in the countryside."I try to get the case open to get the explosives as far away from the case as possible, and the damned lock is stuck. Opened it a couple of dozen times in training; hell, the thing's just a normal suitcase lock, but now, I can't get it open to save my life. Then I realized that was it - if I didn't get it open, I was going to be blown to hell, cause the door to the compartment wouldn't open either. And if it does go off, I'm a gonner and anyone else in this car, maybe the others too, so you're probably not gonna make it out alive either."So, I pry open the window, getting ready to heave the thing over the side, then you four come in the door, a door I couldn't get to budge five minutes ago. I start to explain, and those detonators are getting hot and glowing and sparking like they've got a fire behind them, and I just grab the case and dump it out the window. I'd seen we were going over what looks like a river, so I figure it will be okay, no harm done except for me losing what the Warden here needed for us to do the job. Still, figure he'll understand once I explain, and then it'll be okay. Figured I could jury-rig something later for the job, like I wanted to before they insisted we bring that crap along."Only, it's not okay." Casino stopped and shuddered, running his hand through his dark hair, hair moist with sweat. He raised his eyes to theirs, sick with remembering, and swallowed hard."The case hits the river, the whole thing goes up with a bang, and then the bridge we're on goes down like a ton of bricks, the train right along with it, all like it's in slow motion. We hit the water, the train goes under, we can see it all through the windows though the one I opened is letting a ton of water in. Then the rest of the windows blow from the pressure, and the compartment is filling up, and we're trying to get to the surface but one by one we get caught up in the debris and get knocked out or get crushed. "Shit, Warden, we're all dead, and it was all my fault cause I couldn't get that damned case open!!" He sat there shivering, mutely accepting that bottle Goniff was trusting into his hands, taking a long drink to try and clear his mind and his senses.Actor interjected, "he was sitting there, staring into space, when I arrived. It took several minutes before he returned to himself. I started to go and look for you, but then you arrived. It was a most unpleasant time, I must admit, even discounting Goniff losing his dinner in the facilities." Garrison glanced at his watch, then his team. Each of them had been shaken by their experiences, including himself. That needed to change. They had a job to do, and that had to start with figuring out just where they were. The overhead signs indicating their destination had stopped saying 'Munich' before he'd left the dining car. The replacement, 'Höllenpforte', had been less than comforting. Höllenpforte - Hellsgate."Come on. Let's head back to the dining car."Goniff gulped, his face bearing an all-too-familiar tinge of green. "Don't think I can eat anything, not after all that. Already lost what I ate earlier, soon as I got back to the john. Right after I remembered what tonight is. At least, I think it's the 31st, right?"Garrison gave a wry smile of understanding. "Yes, it's the 31st, at least it was a couple of minutes ago. I think we're just about into November now, probably not a moment too soon. As for food, I wouldn't be surprised if we don't all settle for coffee and a drink, at least to begin with. But I need some answers, and we aren't going to get them sitting in here."They were finishing their first cup of coffee when they caught sight of another train on a parallel track headed in the other direction. The moon had come from behind the clouds where it had been hiding and shone its stark light on the sight. Some cars were enclosed, others only by rails, and they stared, silent, shocked, at the sight of the crowds of people in those railed cars, from young children and babes in arms to old men and women, fear, despair, and perhaps worst of all, an awful knowledge written large on their faces. Chief's story had been quite vivid, enough to recognize what they were seeing, enough for his story to ring true to each of them now.It was Garrison who caught the attention of the car attendant, with a crisp smile of authority on his face. "That train out there. Where is it headed? It is a matter of a wager among my companions, you see," he said with an assured look. Taking note of the discreet bill folded and being extended to him, the attendant glanced at his watch and then at a bound schedule inside his pocket, then shrugged. He could at best give an indefinite answer, something that would hopefully not get him into too much trouble for revealing the actual destination. He could only hope that would suffice, at least enough to get that rather large incentive held between the officer's fingers. He cleared his throat and shrugged, "at this time of day and on this route, it would be the special resettlement train to Ravensbrück. Of course, if there were delays earlier, it could be destined for Sachsenhau. I think even a considerable delay would omit the possibility of Dachau as that is only a kilometer or so north of our position. And as of our position, we will be reaching Munich within minutes. If I might suggest you return to your compartment and prepare for deboarding?" Garrison nodded pleasantly and handed over the bill. "My thanks. You have just won me a considerable bet." He paused, "and who would that resettlement train be carrying?", pulling a second bill from his wallet.He wasn't sure he would be getting an answer, either the truth or otherwise, from the uncertain, even wary, look on the man's face. Finally, after a pause, "our Beloved Fuhrer's final solution to what holds our country from achieving its great destiny - the untermenschen, the mischlinge. You know, the degenerates, the Jews and Gypsies, that foolish Christian cult that calls themselves 'Witnesses of Jehovah', and the other T-4's, the 'eaters', those who do nothing useful but only eat food that should better nourish the others of us, take up space and resources that could be put to more productive use. Some of those will be put to suitable work, the authorities will possibly find uses for some of the others. The rest?" he said with a shrug. "A new world order is coming under our glorious leader, a world better off without such offal contaminating what is being built." Whether the man truly believed any of that, at least the high aims and justification of the probable fate of those being 'resettled', Garrison had to wonder from the shielded, almost conspiratorial look he was being given by those weary eyes. Accepting the second folded bill with a nod, the corpse-faced attendant proceeded on his way, past the lingering, if rapidly fading images of that lady with the python, the finely-dressed women gathered in one corner, as well as the more solid and more corporeal others on this train going - - - well, that was the question, wasn't it? Just where was the train going, and were they willing to ride it to its final destination? They had only the attendant's word for that. Still, that Destination Board was now plainly showing the destination printed on their tickets - Munich.The future, with increased knowledge, would tell them much, let them understand far more, and they would have nightmares about this train, and perhaps even more about that other train, those captive within its cars, and their destination.From the grim, determined look on Garrisons face, somehow they knew they'd be learning more about those places in the near future; knowing their leader, probably gain first hand knowledge. All in all, no matter how disturbing, they preferred the nightmares Halloween itself tended to provide them; at least, those were limited to one night a year.Just then they heard the loud announcement - "Next Stop, Munich" - and Garrison let out a deep breath of relief. At least they were where they were supposed to be, and he wouldn't have laid odds on that being the case, not after this night.But the men had been right in their apprehension. Already they could see that look of concentration, of planning on their leader's face. And if they could have read his mind, what they would have seen wouldn't have surprised any one of them.{"Dachau. That was one of the places the attendant mentioned. Once we get this job done, I think we might see what we can find out about those 'resettlement camps'. Since we're already here. I may need to backtrack, take a look at those other two places as well. But maybe I'll get them to the exit first, see them on their way back home. If this goes wrong, someone needs to get back to tell the story, at least as much as we know of it now. Whether anyone will believe us, that's something else. But the story has to be told."}. The rest of what had taken place this night, that he would omit, of course, and none of that was really relevant, just another Halloween night. Especially he would be omitting what Chief had experienced. No, he'd be saying nothing that might cause his eventual report to be doubted, nothing that would cause HQ to discount the horror he was now certain he had uncovered. His uneasy mind reluctantly stirred up another thought. {"What if they already know? What if they have always known and haven't told us? No, no, that is impossible. That would be a nightmare past anything Halloween could ever think to offer,"} he told himself firmly. He wouldn't think of that anymore, not now anyway. He would focus on getting the job done, getting his guys to the exit, then doing some investigating of what might be going on in Dachau. At least Halloween with all its accompanying horrors was over, at least for another year.