From pinprick of light to steam belching leviathan the train came to a rest just before the detective. A door opened, the two travelers entered. Down the tracks a switch pulled to the hard left. Slowly the train followed a course through a valley few eyes had seen. Within two miles the train was moving at an alarming speed, but this was unnoticeable to the occupants, who were already is deep discussion with Mycroft himself.
“You live brother, is this your seventh of eight?”
“I’ve lost track sometime ago. I need to be in Paris before the Easter bureaucratic ellipses.”