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Val, patting my arm whispered, “Let’s move. We need to be between the next two cars or we’ll be out of position.”
Entering the passageway connecting the lounge and First Class car, we saw the backs of two bodyguards blocking the entrance to the next car through the glass of the passageway doors. Leecy, visible in the gap between their shoulders, was walking with the target. She was about midway down the aisle heading toward the next passageway and the entrance to the Pullman car. We timed our entrance on the opposite end of the First Class car with their exit.
“Sorry folks,” one of the big men said, he and his partner turning to face Val and me, “but you’ll have to return to the lounge car or the dining car. This car is closed.”
“Excuse me,” Val said, eyeing Leecy and the target reaching the end of the car turning to see what the commotion was all about before pulling the passageway door open, “but we have First Class tickets and access to this coach. We’re coming in.”
The two beefy guards were both over six feet tall, and easily eclipsed two hundred fifty pounds apiece. They stood, like big men tend to do, with knees braced. Each man was extending a hand toward us like a running back using a stiff arm to ward off a tackler. Two mistakes, and we took advantage of both.
Grabbing a hand each by the fingers, we drove front kicks into a locked right knee of each man resulting in two dislocated knees, and two men falling like fresh-cut timber. Their heads colliding with an armrest of a seat each, knocking them out before they could scream in pain. Stepping over the unconscious guards, we were running toward the Pullman car, Leecy and the target.
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