Jaeger slid his satchel under his seat and cast a glance up and down the aisle as he did. Drake tipped his head down a bit so that the brim of his hat would hide any bits of his face that the paper didn’t cover. So far as he could tell, Jaeger hadn’t noticed him. No hitches in either his gaze or his posture, no change in his rate of movement as he straightened again.

Good. One complication avoided for now.

A few minutes later, the train pulled away from the station. The seat beside him, next to the window, remained empty—a stroke of luck for which he silently thanked the Lord. In fact, half the train carriage wasn’t filled, which could work either to his advantage or disadvantage, depending. Fewer potential distractions to cover him, but fewer eyes to see him. He settled in, keeping his senses alert to the goings-on down the aisle. An opportunity would either arise on its own, or he would make one.

Across the aisle from Jaeger, a woman had settled with her children. There were six of them squeezed into the facing seats, including a baby who began fussing within ten minutes of their departure. Drake buried a smile behind his false whiskers when Jaeger shot the woman a look. Given the strict instruction the woman was giving her eldest daughter, he had a feeling she was the sort who wouldn’t hesitate to give Jaeger a piece of her mind if he dared insinuate that her difficulties were an annoyance to him. That could prove entertaining.

His opposite number glanced about, obviously searching for an alternate seat—though moving would require sitting beside someone else, as there were no altogether empty rows. Would he risk moving to a different carriage? Drake prayed he wouldn’t.

And he didn’t. With a sigh, Jaeger settled in and held his peace. For ten minutes, for twenty. By that point, the harried mother was pacing the aisle with her fussy baby, trying to get the little one to quiet. She’d just reached her own seat again—and hence Jaeger’s—when the train went round a bend, she swayed with it, and the baby lost its dinner . . . all over the German.

Jaeger sprang up with an expletive—in Spanish, which testified to how deeply in his cover he must be immersed. Drawing the attention of most of the train carriage, he shouted, “Look what you’ve done!”

“I’m so sorry, señor!” The woman’s face flushed scarlet. She handed the baby to its sister and reached Jaeger’s way with her shawl. “Let me—”

“Don’t touch me.” He sidestepped her, moving down the aisle toward the front of the carriage. The nearest lavatory was in the next carriage in front of them and was no doubt his aim. “Just . . . clean off my seat if you want to be useful.”