Author's Note: I do not own the story idea or most of the dialogue. This adaption is not 100% accurate..maybe 98% so that I could fit it into a story format. There's a section that I've added myself by including a new story and a point-of-view from another character other than Robert Cath - Tatiana, the Count's grand daughter. I did this story ages ago..about 6 years ago when I was playing the adventure PC game for the first time. It's a very old game, the creators used real motion to make the characters, so the graphic level might be a bit old fashioned now but it's still playable if you like adventure puzzle games with a historical background.

Chapter 1

24th July 1914, Paris to Chalons

It was 7:14 at Paris station and Tyler Whitney was clearly anxiously waiting for his friend on the open platform of the Orient Express. Crowds of people were walking to and fro in the station, hurrying to either get onto their train or leave the noisy and dusky station. None bothered to looked up to see a young man in a green coat, brown hat, and an anxious expression across his face as he looked sharply around his surroundings. The Orient Express, the first luxury train to travel from Paris to Constantinople, was about to leave. Tyler looked up at the large clock of the station and cursed his friend for being late. When he looked back up at the clock again, there were two policemen on the balcony, scanning the scenery below. To his left, Tyler spotted two other policemen. The speaker in French announced that the Orient Express was about to leave. Rolling his eyes, Tyler gave up and retreated.

It was 7:39 when the Orient Express traveled across the middle of the countryside. If any of the passengers had gazed out of their window, they would see a motorcyclist and its passenger gaining speed with the Orient Express. When the motorcycle was in line with one of the doors of the train cars, the passenger jumped and landed safely onto the small platform. The young man looked back at the motorcyclist. The rider took off the goggles and hat, and the auburn-haired woman waved. The man waved back, and clambering up the steps, he entered the car on his right. Once inside, he could feel the warmth inside the train and sighed in relief that he had made it on, thanks to his old colleague from Yale Medical School. A license suspended doctor practicing mysticism and ancient and esoteric forms of medicine, twenty-nine years old Robert Cath stepped out onto the green-carpeted corridor and caught one of the conductors coming towards him.

"Excuse me, where is Tyler Whitney's compartment?" he asked, his American accent noticeable.

"Ah, Monsieur Whitney, you're compartment is at the end, number one." The French conductor said and moved back to his post. Robert moved down the train, observing the luxury of the cart at the same time. High above him was a white marble ceiling with small bright lights inserted. The walls were made of rich teak and mahogany wood with green and brown doors for each compartment. There were also complicated patterns painted finely on the doors, each having a golden flower on the front. Outside through the windows on his left, the sky was dark and cold. Everything looked perfect for a luxury train, although to Robert, the corridor was quite narrow with only the space for one person moving at a time. He was looking up at the ceiling when he nearly bumped into the plump and arrogant-looking train guard, who was dressed in a blue suite and black tie. He announced the first service dinner in the Dining Car. Reaching Compartment One, Robert grabbed the golden handle and pushed the door open. His blood froze and his skin turned cold at what he saw inside. To his horror, on the floor lay his friend covered in blood and large, deep scratches. From that moment on, Robert could not take the image of Tyler's face out of his head; eyes opened in awe and mouth in terror. There were three large bloody scratches across his face and the blood had trickled onto the carpet.

Robert shook and took control of himself, trying to think of what he should do next. If anyone saw the body in the compartment, it would raise suspicions and all the fingers would point to Robert himself. He was already in trouble with the authorities. Walking across the room, he opened the window. Picking the body up, he murmured a prayer for his friend and threw him out of the window. Robert looked out at the tracks as the body tumbled down and out into the night. He clambered back and looked down at his coat. It was covered in blood. Cursing, he took Tyler's green coat from the hanger on his right and switched cloaks. He threw his own cloak out as well. Back on the grey carpet, Robert cannot do anything for the bloodstain embedded into the floor. Sighing heavily, he looked around the small room. High on the rack, Robert caught sight of Tyler's suitcase and brought it down. Opening it, he took the telegram he sent days before. He told Tyler that he would join him on the train trip, but he might be a little late.

"Don't mention my name." It said. Yes, it was necessary. It has been weeks since Robert had gotten himself into trouble with the authorities in Ireland. He was on the trail to find a long lost manuscript that led him to the country, and unfortunately, got himself caught in the crossfire of a police raid in an IRA safe house. He found a policemen lying close to death, and went for his aid when the other policemen found them. Of course, they assumed that he was the culprit, so Robert fled on a stolen boat in Ireland, nearly got drowned at sea and luckily washed up in Calais. But he only found himself as a fugitive wanted by police in every country in Europe. Fortunately, Tyler sent a telegram to help him flee on the Orient Express. The timing couldn't be better.

Robert placed the telegram into his coat pocket and took out something else from the case. It was a scroll. The writing was in Russian, with a golden background, a picture of a red and blue bird on the top-left hand corner with a girl diagonally opposite. Though Robert knew how to speak and understand Russian, he didn't know how to read well. He would have to find a translator.

Robert placed the case back onto the rack and caught sight of a brown chest on the chair near the window. Opening it, he found nothing. Only a blue velvet covering, with two empty spaces. One looked large and round, the other small and long. Perhaps someone took them after Tyler's death…

Robert turned and left the compartment. He could hear the conductor and the guard talking at the post. The conductor was suspicious about a passenger who had a few of his women escorts with him. But the guard told him to forget it.

"Of course, Uncle."

"Don't call me uncle." The guard snapped.

When the guard left, the conductor came towards him.

"Excuse me, Monsieur Whitney," he said. "August Schmidt is in the Dining Compartment waiting to talk with you."

Robert nodded and turned around. Now what was Tyler up to? He thought.

He walked through the first sleeping car, which was much more elegant than the second. The carpet was red and the lights were dimmer. A young boy suddenly ran past with a whistle in his mouth.

"Boys," Robert shook his head.

He walked down the car and into the Smoking Compartment. This part of the train was the most luxuries of all. Clean purple-patterned carpet, leather couches, rich blue table coverings... Robert wished he could lounge in here and drink expensive French wine throughout the whole trip. But he had business to attend to, and this matter was very important.

He spotted two young women sitting at the back left-hand corner. One was dressed in a burgundy dress and hat, whilst the other was in pink and gossiping loudly than the other. Robert found a newspaper lying on the seat across them and took it.

"Look at the man who just came in." the lady in pink said in French. "Doesn't he look handsome, all ruffled and wild? He looks like one of the heroes out of a novel."

"Hush, Sophie! He might hear you." The other girl said.

"Oh don't worry, Rebecca. He's an American and he can't understand us."

She was wrong. Robert knew French and two other languages, German and Russian. He also knew how to read Latin and Greek.

"Aren't we going to have dinner, Sophie?" Rebecca asked softly.

"Why of course not! You're now living in luxury my darling and we always do second service. You'll get used to it."

Robert scanned the newspaper and caught sight of a column about an American runaway, convicted of murder of an Irish policeman and on the run. Silently, he ripped the column out and walked into the Dining Compartment. This compartment was brighter than the Smoking Compartment, and at the moment, three tables were occupied. On his left in the middle table, there was a group of Serbians in dark, rough uniforms. They all looked around when he came in. One of them was a woman, and she looked mean and tougher than the rest. Perhaps the leader? At the table behind them, a young girl in a blue summer dress and an old man whom Robert assumed to be her grandfather sat silently eating their dish. At the right of Robert, a man in black with long hair, beard and moustache sat silently eating his soup. The waiter in red came through the curtains at the back and served him.

"Bonjour Monsieur, we have a nice table for you in the corner."

Robert followed and sat behind a fat and rich looking gentleman. Guessing by his facial features, Robert assumed the man was Herr Schmidt. Across beside him, Robert heard the elderly gentleman speak in Russian to his granddaughter.

"Did you obey all the covenants of the church?" he asked.

"Yes Grandfather." She answered sweetly.

There was a pause.

"The dish is really good." The old man commented.

"You're feeling good."

Robert stood up and walked towards the table where the plump gentleman wearing small glasses was sitting.

"Herr Schmidt? You wanted to see me?"

"Ah, Whitney! Sit down." He exclaimed in a strong Germen accent and Robert sat across him. "You look different than I'd imagined."

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I ran across an old friend." Robert finished with a murmur.

"Ah yes, one can meet surprising people on the train. Now, lets get down to business. Have you brought the gold?"

Robert tried to keep his face neutral. Gold? What gold? Tyler was certainly mixed up in something.

"Just to keep me waiting, Whitney, I must remind you I kept my part of the bargain. And if there's anything wrong with it, I would like to know about it."

"There's nothing wrong." Robert quickly said.

"Well then, I like to see the gold."

"I like to see what is it I'm buying."

"But that's impossible!" August cried out. "The merchandise would be put on the train in Munich."

"Good, then we're even." Robert stood up. "Herr Schmidt, pleasure seeing you then- after Munich."

Robert returned to his table. Now he wished Tyler had told him everything. But could this deal with the German have anything to do with the murder? Robert thought. Should he act as Whitney throughout the journey? Surely, he wanted to know who the murderer of his friend was. He could go undercover and learn about all the passengers on the train. He would have to find out what sort of business Whitney and Schmidt had, and how he could retrieve the gold August was talking about. He was sure he didn't find any gold in the compartment he was in.

When the German stood up and left, Robert caught sight of the lonely bearded stranger sitting far across him. Standing up, he walked across towards the table.

"Mind if I join you?"

The man considered. "Why not?"

Robert sat down, guessing the man was Russian judging by his accent. Perhaps he could help Robert with the scroll.

The man glanced up from his soup and across the room. Then looking up at him, he went back to his soup. Robert glanced back and saw the young girl looking at them, and then went back to her food. Robert took his eyes off her when the man stood up.

"I didn't mean to scare you off." Robert said.

"One bowl of soup for me is enough. I can't take pleasure in food, while millions in my country have no bread to feed. Forgive me."

He left. Robert wondered what he'd meant. Looking down at the table, he realised the man had forgotten his little red book. Opening the book, Robert found a timetable. Between Galanta and Budapest, there was a time marking 10:40. He was aware that the Serbians were leaving. Pocketing the timetable, Robert stood up and left the Dining Car. He caught sight of the little boy again blowing his whistle, and a young attractive woman in red came in heading towards the Dining Car. Robert could smell the strong perfume on her. The boy left the Smoking Car. Robert followed the boy until he was in the First Sleeping Car. The boy went into Compartment D. Robert stopped outside just when the boy spoke.
"Guess what I saw!" the boy exclaimed in French. "I saw a man rolling down the tracks!"