Masin called Kelly Dunn asking him to do some follow up with the CBP and the Guerro connection.  Kelly used the opportunity to express a concern, “Absolutely I’ll come up with some answers for you on that one.  I’ll see where the information stopped, you can count on it.  Hey Cleat, don’t mean to bother you while you are out chasing bad guys and all, but Sarah and Brent are two hours post check in time.  I have got Charli trying to make ship to shore contact with them.  Oh hey man, this Charli gal is one smart cookie.  I can see now why she is your new girlfriend, oh and she’s sitting right here and said to say hi.”  Masin broke in, “Hey wait a minute, back up this ship to shore thing Kelly. Where in hell are they?”  “Oh man, that’s right you don’t know, sorry about that.  How absent minded of me.  They are on a Brazilian dry goods tanker called the Brazilian.  They boarded the ship in Porto do Itaqui, Brazil yesterday with USDA Director Toberts and are riding shotgun to New Orleans.  The ship is loaded with imported grains and there was a tip that the ship might be sabotaged.”  “Kelly, are they prepared to be on that ship?”  “Oh hey, absolutely.  I gave them all kinds of neat gizmos to take, but they are supposed to check in with Charli and me every six hours, but it has been eight since we last heard from them.”  Masin instilled a sense of urgency into his voice and said, “Kelly listen to me.  It is better to err on the side of safety than chance.  Call Colonel Douglas immediately and give him everything you have, and keep me up to date.  Call, text, or email me, I don’t care how you contact me, send a homing pigeon if you want.  And Kelly?”  “Yes boss?”  “She is not my girlfriend, yet.” 
Masin fired the Polaris RZR back to life and proceeded to the hilltop a mile away.  He brought Scout up to speed on the situation, who in turn said, “Look Cleat, I know this is the father figure in you coming out, but those two are highly qualified to be doing what they do.  Let’s face it, Sarah is ex-Navy SEAL and could probably kick both of our asses any day of the week, so try not to worry so much.”  “I suppose you’re right.  Where to first, the hill top, or the signal tower?”  The RZR wound through the last sweeping curve, then Scout responded, “Signal tower while there is still good daylight.  Did you hear that?”  “Yeah, those pipes on this RZR sound great don’t they?”  “No not us, I heard another ATV.  Do me a favor Cleat, see this crossover coming up for the farmer’s field?  Cross it and put us on the other side of the tracks.”  “Will do, but the suspicious signal tower is on this side of the tracks.”  “I know, but we can always walk across the tracks.  Hey, I am Native American Indian and you and I learned a long time ago to never doubt my instincts.”  Masin absolutely knew his friend was right as he took the crossover to the far side of the tracks. 

They climbed out of the RZR and looked around.  “Train coming.”  Masin replied, “Yup, I hear, but it’s a good mile away.  What a great spot for photos, and a lot of trains too.  I should have bought one of those disposable cameras last night.”  “Okay MR Railfan, don’t go getting all choo choo happy on me now, something doesn’t feel right here.”  It was barely audible at first, but then clearly they both heard the sounds of an ATV engine.  Masin spoke, “Far side of the hill and I’ll bet you a dollar we have company coming.”  “I won’t take your bet, but let’s hope it is the CBP.”  “I doubt it Scout.  Sheriff Burwell said he was going to give Boarder Patrol heads up that we would be out here today.  Let’s cross the tracks before it and the train get here.”  Both men snapped off the leather holding straps on their sidearms, and then crossed the tracks.  After crossing, they both studied the signal tower when Scout asked, “See anything out of place MR Railfan?”  Masin completed a full circle around the signal tower and said, “Yes, as a matter of fact I do.  See this junction box for the signal light wiring?  Look at the anti-tamper tie on the latch, it has been opened and replaced with a brass tie.”  Scout was looking as Masin continued, “The railroad has not used brass ties in over twenty years.  They use galvanized ties now.  I’ll hedge that what we are looking for is inside this box, and I’ll bet if you look around you will find an old cut galvanized tie.”  “And what would that prove?  Maybe the last servicing electrician threw it on the ground after he cut it.”  “They don’t throw them away.  They have serial numbers on them and have to be turned back in.”

Masin pulled a twelve in one knife from his pocket and used the wire cutters to snip the tie and open the electrical box.  Scout quickly found the old galvanized tie nearby and rejoined Masin at the box.  The ATV was louder now and rounding the hill, nearly on the track service road.  “There is a device that doesn’t belong in here.”  “I see it,” Scout confirmed.  “It has alligator clips leading from it to the main wiring.” Masin quickly removed the clips and shoved the electrical device into his pocket. The ATV was quickly approaching behind them, and from the opposite direction the train was nearly upon them as well.  Scout was the first to feel it, and then Masin as a shower of rocks pelted them like shrapnel from a grenade.  Then came the crack of a single gunshot as both men dove for cover. The gunman on the ATV laughed, “I have been expecting you two.  You might as well stand up Cleat and Gerald, there is no place for you to hide.  Not much of a way for two Army heroes to act ducking like cowards.”  Scout mumbled under his breath, “God I hate when people call me Gerald.”

The westbound train rounded the last curve and was now visible a few hundred feet away.  Masin and Tonopah rose to face their attacker. Crimson red blood was now seeping from Masin’s left ear lobe and forehead as it ran down his face and neck and dripped onto the front of his shirt.  Instinctually they kept at least six feet between them, as they stood with only their right shoulders facing the gunman.  This tactical move kept their hearts as far from the shooter as possible, and left the attacker with narrower targets.  The bulky figure stopped his ATV and rested the gun barrel on the handlebars, pointed squarely at both of them.  Masin’s military training kicked into high gear.  Look for what doesn’t fit, he thought.  A single attacker with knowledge of their military experience, yet attacking two armed Federal agents with a long clumsy rifle.  Scout had already run the same routine through his head, and then nodded for Masin to look toward the hilltop.  Three more attackers sat on ATV’s with their guns leveled at them.  The gunman before them sat with a cold and calculated look in his eyes, and Masin observed drool seeping from the corner of the man’s mouth.  “I am sorry, but you seem to know so much about us, have we met before,” Masin asked showing a cocky smile this time.  “I didn’t catch your name.”  The man clearly agitated with Masin’s bold impudence, which only perpetuated more drool from his mouth, leveled his gun directly at Masin.  “My name is of no importance.  Learning a name serves no purpose to a dead man.  Now I want each of you to remove your sidearms.  You will pinch the grips slowly using only your finger and thumb, and then drop them to the ground.  This should not be a problem as I see you each have the catch straps already released.  Now, do it slowly.” 

The train engineer, now spotting people near his track, was giving the customary two short warning blasts from his horn.  “That’s not going to happen mister, but tell you what, it looks like you might need a hanky for that drool buddy, care to use my shirt sleeve,” Scout said challenging the man and causing Masin to chuckle.  The man became even more disturbed as he now swung the gun’s barrel to Scout. 
The ploy was working, so far, as was Masin and Scout’s intention.  Training, and time spent in combat, had taught each of them that if the element of surprise was not an option, then lure your enemy into unfamiliar footing.  The blaring train, now passing beside them, sent Rabies to the end of his rope.  Masin made a mental note of the lead train engine’s number, then took one step towards the man, while Scout took one step away. Another Military tactic.  The human eye is a poor judge of depth they knew, especially during low light conditions, and targets at different ranges sends conflicting information to an attacker’s brain.  Masin spoke, “I see this going down one of two ways.  Either you lay down your gun and come with us peacefully, or you get one of us, assuming you are a good enough shot, and the one you don’t get, places some lead neatly between your eyes.  And neither one of us will miss my friend, and as for your comrades up on the hill, that is a two hundred-meter shot.  Now they might pull off a lucky shot, but standing there without support under their barrels doesn’t qualify them as a marksman.”  Rabies used the backside of his hand to wipe his drool, then cocked the hammer of the rifle and pulled the trigger…