Penny had never met someone like Laszlo Nonokiewicz before. The long car ride back from the air field was strange, that's for sure. She was shuffled into the back seat between Vaan and Fran while the chubby little Polish man drove erratically in between bouts of shouting at Balthier.

He let loose a string of what Penny could only guess were expletives in Polish while Balthier sighed. "Nono, quit yelling, would ya?" he begged. "Between your Polish and Fran's German I can't understand half of what either of you ever say."

Fran leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Balthier understands more than he lets on," she said. "Nono and I just talk faster now to mess with him." Penny smiled at the two immigrants teasing the macho gangster. She held on to the seats tightly as Nono swerved wildly to avoid a streetcar.

"This is way to Little Italy!" Nono protested, honking the noisy horn while Balthier tried pointing him in another direction.

"Just roll the window down and smell, damn it!" Balthier snapped. "You can smell the sausage from miles away."

"That is hogs in meat packing! You don't live in Chicago as long as Nono!"

She looked down to hide her grin. The stock yards were on the south side, but Nono was probably right about the smell. How long had Balthier been in the city anyhow? He sounded more like a New Yorker than a native, although his accent was almost as sophisticated and polished as Larsa's had been. Why was a man like that a small time crook? From what little Vaan had been able to tell her, Balthier owned a speakeasy in Streeterville just north of the Chicago River. He must have been doing well to get property in such a nice neighborhood…and avoid getting shut down by the police.

"Cid Kramer calls me, yelling about his plane. 'Where is playboy? Where has that playboy taking my Trimotor?' and I tell him, I say 'Cid, I wish I could tell you what takes him so long, probably new girlfriend in DC…'"

"Oh Nono, he's going to kill me!" Balthier moaned. Vaan snorted with laughter while Fran kicked the back of Balthier's seat.

"We got his plane back in one piece, just pay him extra," she told her partner. "You can give him whatever you're planning to take from that bank…"

"What?" the Polish man screamed, leaving one hand on the wheel and using the other to smack Balthier in the head. Penny wondered who was really in charge – Balthier or Nono. She guessed the latter was the only person other than Fran that could keep the man in check. "What bank? You stealing from banks now? You try and give me another excuse to beat the tar out of you?"

Vaan cleared his throat. "Taylor Street…um, that was Taylor Street…"

"If you want Nono to just run business full-time, Mr. Flyboy, you say so because I want no part of bank robbing!"

"Nono?" Fran interrupted. "You missed the street, turn around!"

"Would you settle down? I'm not robbing any banks!" Balthier told his friend while Nono grumbled and struggled to find a place to turn the car. "It's all on the level, all legitimate. I'm accompanying a friend to Kansas City on business."

"You have no friends but me and Franziska!" Nono protested. Vaan elbowed Penny, mouthing "Franziska?" at her while she avoided Fran's gaze. "New friend is lady, and every time this happens I say 'Balthier, no dumbbell flapper is worth a man like you, well-educated and smart as a tack,' but no! You always say 'This one's a keeper, a real doll' and I say…"

"Sweet Jesus, would you shut up already?" Balthier cried. "Get these kids home before you have a heart attack!"

The car swerved again to avoid a dog catcher's truck, and between the yelling, the Polish cursing, and the terrible driving, Penny wanted nothing more than the safety of Miguel's soup kitchen and dozens of dishes to wash. Finally, she saw Miguel's place at the end of the street, but Vaan's gasp of surprise alerted her to the fact that something was very wrong.

"Pinkertons!" Vaan cried, and Nono slammed on the brakes, pulling the car over a few doors down from Miguel's. It was true. The entire soup kitchen was surrounded by men in suits with guns guarding the doors. She couldn't see Miguel from where they were in the car, and she wanted to get out to see if he was okay. She'd only been gone from home a few days, but it was clear that Archadia Industries was looking for them.

"What are we going to do?" she asked her friend, wondering if Kytes and the other kids were safe. There was no way they could go home. They'd be arrested or something far worse, that was for sure.

"Do you have family? Any friends elsewhere in the city?" Fran asked gently. "Those thugs aren't going to leave the neighborhood, that much is clear."

Penny felt tears in her eyes, and she wiped them away hastily. Vaan couldn't speak, his mouth hanging open in shock from seeing the only place they called home literally under siege. "We don't have anyone," she admitted quietly.

She watched Nono glare at Balthier while the gangster shook his head. "No. No kids in my club," Balthier whined.

"They have nothing! Just like you have nothing when we first meet!"

"This is different!"

"They can help Nono when we're in Kansas City with…our friend," Fran offered.

"No."

Everyone turned to look at Vaan. His gaze did not leave Miguel's shop and the armed men outside. "We're going to Kansas City with you," her friend said, his voice full of a seriousness that she'd never heard before. Penny didn't want to be left behind with the crazy little Polish man, and she nodded in agreement. She didn't exactly want to keep traveling the country with a bunch of criminals, but her choices were rather limited.

Balthier mumbled under his breath and sank down in his seat. "Cause me any more trouble and I'm letting you take the train all the way out to Los Angeles." He pulled his fedora down over his eyes, and she realized that the man had probably gotten the least amount of sleep of all of them with all the flying he'd had to do. No wonder he was so grumpy.

Fran put her arm around her shoulder, encouraging her to lay her head down. Penny closed her eyes and did so, letting the older woman soothe her with a gentle rub on her arm. She'd lost everything now – there was no way the Pinkertons would leave unless Archadia was brought down. Her friends, Miguel…she couldn't risk putting them in any danger by trying to go home. Right now, Vaan and this ragtag crew was all she had. Penny had to leave Taylor Street behind.

Nono pulled away from the curb with a grumble. "Come all this way and for what?" he complained, but Penny did her best to tune out the man's heavy accent as the car took them north across the river to Balthier's club.

--

Despite being in hiding for two years, Basch didn't think Ashe's living arrangements were so poor. Although Raminas had wanted his daughter out of Chicago, it was clear that Vossler had been unsuccessful in taking her that far away. With his law firm in the Loop, he'd settled down in Hyde Park not far from the University of Chicago, his alma mater. Ashe had the entire top floor of an old Victorian house to herself. Then again, the girl had grown up rather spoilt in Lincoln Park and the home here wasn't as large and well furnished.

Basch stood politely in the parlor while he listened to Ashe tearing quickly through drawers upstairs. Vossler would be greatly annoyed whenever he made it back to Chicago. He hadn't seen his friend since he left Ondore's estate in the taxi cab, and since he wasn't home yet, Basch could only assume he'd taken a train. The money Vossler had left Ashe in DC covered their train tickets, but they needed accommodations that night before the train left in the morning and then for when they stayed in Kansas City.

"He's always hiding money from me!" he heard her complain.

Basch couldn't help grinning. "Because you'd only use it to get yourself in trouble!" he called up the stairs to her.

She appeared at the top of the staircase, hands on her hips moments later. Despite her usual poise, he remembered that the girl was only nineteen years of age. He hadn't been much older than her when he'd gone off to war. She was her father's child through and through and had the same mischievous spark as Raminas.

"You sound just like Vossler," she complained. Ashe disappeared again and then reemerged lugging a suitcase. "Here, come help me with this."

He didn't budge. "What the hell are you bringing?" The girl had probably had a lot of time to plan her great escape, but she was still naïve.

She nudged the case with her toe. "Clothes, some for the train and a nice dress for the bank. And then some makeup. A few books…"

Basch sighed heavily and trudged up the steps. He hefted the suitcase and moved past her and into the bedroom. He grinned at the four-poster bed crammed into the tiny space and the drawers overflowing with clothes. There were pictures all over the walls torn from cinema and fashion magazines, and he couldn't help chuckling at the small shrine behind the headboard.

"Valentino? He's been dead for what…five years now?" he teased.

Ashe stood beside him and crossed her arms defiantly. "He was a handsome man. Father took me to see The Sheik six times."

"How old were you when that came out? Were you even out of diapers when that was playing?" He opened up the suitcase and groaned at the ridiculous amount of clothes and shoes and toiletries crammed into it. "Come on, clean this out."

She elbowed him aside and started throwing clothes back on the bed. "Leave me alone. And for the record, I was nine." He turned aside as she went through her clothes and waited patiently. He had really missed the girl and thought of her often when he was sequestered away in that awful prison. The thought of keeping her safe was rarely far from his mind. He'd never had time to have children of his own, had been too busy all those years with his career. Ashe was the closest he had to a daughter or kid sister.

The train would depart at eleven the following morning and arrive late that evening. So there was no rush, but the last thing he needed was Vossler showing up. "Can I ask what you intend to do with the contents of the bank box?"

She shrugged. "It's just more stock papers. I'll have to go over my uncle's head with them."

He straightened. She had no idea what was really in Raminas' box, did she? Raminas had never intended for those papers to see the light of day. After years of researching Greek fire, they'd finally come up with the correct solution. He'd been tortured two years for it, although it had been sitting in a Kansas bank box all that time just waiting to be discovered. If he was smart, he'd take them from her and destroy them himself lest Archadia get hold of them. Nobody would be hurt – although he wondered just how much Raminas had shared about his discoveries in the years before he worked at R.A. Banastre.

"Come on, we need to get out of here before Vossler gets home," he said quietly, walking away from her and out into the hallway.

--

Dearborn Station was surprisingly quiet that morning. With the coming winter and the exorbitant prices for train tickets, there were few people readying to depart for Kansas City that day. All the better, Balthier wagered. Nono had cussed him out one last time before dropping him, Fran and the kids off. The old man was more a father to him than his own had ever been, but he didn't need to think about Cid. Not now, not ever.

He'd nearly gone out of his head the previous evening having to put Vaan and his girl up for the night. Balthier owned the club and Nono owned the building, but his bachelor apartment wasn't exactly accommodating. Fran had taken the girl with her, leaving him stuck with Vaan's chatting. Even keeping him on the couch hadn't shut his trap. Long distance train rides had also seemed to elude the boy all these years, and Balthier prayed that the kid would plant himself in one of the observation cars and leave him in peace and quiet for the trip to Kansas City.

A quick glance at his ticket sent him along to the right track, and he hoisted his suitcase. Who knew how long they'd be there anyhow? Fran followed him quietly while the kids gabbed on and on about Kansas City, Missouri versus Kansas City, Kansas. At least they looked like tourists instead of criminals. They found Basch and Ashe waiting on the wooden benches near the boarding area.

"Good morning," he offered with a tip of his fedora in her direction. She gave him a smirk and a nod while Basch seemed to be hiding behind a newspaper. He sat down heavily beside her, and she clutched her handbag tightly as a reflex. That brought a smile to his face. "Don't trust me yet, sweetheart?"

She frowned. "No further than I could throw you." The kids ran off to plaster their faces against the glass to look at the other trains in the station while Basch kept reading and Fran kept an eye on all their bags.

"Will they request identification on the train?" Basch asked quietly, his eyes not seeming to focus on the paper in front of him.

Balthier smiled and reached inside his jacket pocket, producing a professional looking badge. He handed it to Basch. "Here you are, Henry."

The man accepted it with a wary look. "This doesn't look like me."

Balthier sighed. "They won't look that close. And besides, it's not like I could clip out your photo from the paper there," he retorted with a gesturing finger. An old picture of Basch, much younger…probably an Army photo, adorned the front page of the Chicago Tribune with a headline of "Where is this man?"

Basch scowled. "Henry Mason, Bureau of Prohibition? Do I want to know how you got these?"

He smiled. "You probably don't." Balthier tossed a card into Ashe's lap. "And Mr. Mason, here's your little runaway. Keep an eye on her now."

Ashe stared at the card. "Mary Roberts, 2291 Maple Drive…" She rolled her eyes. "Kansas City, Missouri?"

"Shame on you, worrying your parents like that, Mary," he chastised her. "Leaving home to work in some gin joint in Chicago. You're lucky Mr. Mason here is bringing you back."

"Quite a little story. Maybe you should have been a writer instead of a criminal," Basch noted, sliding the badge into his coat pocket.

Ashe examined the identification card a bit longer. "These fakes come in handy often?"

Balthier leaned back in the seat and stretched a bit. "Oh, you know, Fran and I are mighty popular in these parts. Lots of admirers. So our names are known here and there, and if I slip out of town for a while, I've got a drawer full of these things."

His and Ashe's attention was pulled to Vaan and Penny, who were having a trivial argument about Pullman train cars. Balthier leaned over and whispered in her ear. "At least we thought to bring entertainment."

She sighed, and Balthier caught Basch smiling behind his paper. The older man set it down and walked over to the kids. It seemed that Basch didn't really mind Vaan and Penny that much. The girl, pigtails bouncing with her energy and enthusiasm over the pending trip, pointed out the window. "So what's the route for the Chief?"

The big train was waiting just on the other side of the platform, probably getting its last cleaning and inspection before letting everyone board. Basch looked at a map on the wall and gestured to it for Penny's benefit. "Well, we're going west. First we cross most of this state and go through Galesburg and Fort Madison here. A stop in the middle of Missouri at Marceline here, and then Kansas City. This train goes on to Los Angeles, but we're not." Basch eyed the girl warily. "It's a long trip. I hope you brought something to do."

"I'm not as dumb as I look," she complained, pulling a book from her coat. "Fran gave me something to read."

The man chuckled, and Balthier was getting annoyed by this rather adorable display. "I never thought you looked dumb," Basch informed her. Thankfully, there was an announcement over the speaker then: it was time to board the Chief.

He rose to his feet, lifting his suitcase and getting his ticket from his pocket. The others did the same, gathering up their belongings and heading for the queue. They were almost ready to get on board when a voice shouted Ashe's name. Who would be dumb enough to do something that stupid?

Balthier turned around to see that damned lawyer running over. He waved them down and joined the back of the queue. How the hell had he found out? Ashe hadn't been stupid enough to let him in on the little bank vault plan, had she? He could tell by the shock on her face that she hadn't. He hung back with Basch and Ashe while Fran helped the kids to get on the train.

"Vossler, what are you doing here?" Basch hissed as he tapped his ticket against his coat nervously.

The lawyer narrowed his eyes. "I get home early this morning to find a telegram from Secretary Ondore saying you've vanished…" He waved a train schedule in Ashe's face. "And then I find this on the floor of my living room."

Ashe handed her ticket to the attendant, ignoring Vossler completely. There was no stopping this girl, Balthier figured. But now they had one more in their group. Things never went smoothly for him. He overheard the lawyer grumbling to Basch about taking Ashe to Kansas City in the company of crooks, and he ignored the slight against his profession. If anyone was a crook, it was a lawyer, but he kept the thought to himself as he followed Ashe on board.

It would be a long day.

--

The "Where is this man?" headline annoyed him, and he tossed the paper in the trash. Vayne sighed and looked out at the lake and the light snow that was falling. At that very moment, the girl, Ronsenburg and who knows how many others were leaving Dearborn Station. Hopefully, they'd lead them right to something important. He had to admit that Raminas B'Nargin had been clever, scattering his papers in bank boxes and basements all over the place.

The lawyer had surprised him with the offer. The girl's life in exchange for whatever awaited them in Kansas City. The phone on his desk rang, and he moved over to answer. His secretary's shrill voice came through.

"Andrew Ghis on the line for you, sir."

The last person he wanted on this, but Vayne's options were limited. The Pinkertons' loyalty was rather split between himself and his father, and Ghis was the best he had in the Midwest since Gabranth was his father's dog. He waited to be connected. "Are you making preparations, Ghis?"

The man's pompous voice came through. Vayne could hear the train yards in the background, the noise of the engines and the chattering of people. "Santa Fe Chief just left a few minutes ago. We'll follow and wait for the call, Mr. Solidor."

"Excellent," he replied. "You've seen the forecast?"

"Snow's not going to make a difference, sir."

Vayne's patience with the man was growing thin. There was a blizzard coming in the next few days, and transport back from Kansas City would definitely be affected. "You're on thin ice, Ghis. Do not mess this up."

"We've got men in KC already getting the train put together. Our man at the station knows we're coming through."

He sighed. The zeppelin wouldn't be a good idea with the storm, but this train plan wasn't much better. Then again, he had a lot on his mind, considering the news he'd just received from New York…

"I expect you in Chicago in the next few days." He hung up before Ghis could get a smarmy word in edgewise.

--

November 29, 1931

Grumblings in Manhattan – Is Solidor Kid on the Lam?

By R. Zecht, Tribune Staff Reporter

As Vayne Solidor and Archadia Industries' (NYSE: ARCH) problems increase financially, could there be a manhunt underway to find the CEO's little brother back in New York City? Sources close to the Solidor family allege that twelve year old Larsa Solidor has gone missing after returning from an excursion to Washington D.C. Young Master Solidor is enrolled at the Collegiate School, an elite private academy in Manhattan and apparently failed to report back to class following the Thanksgiving holiday.

The office of Archadia Industries' President Gramis Solidor has denied these claims, saying his son is home and well. "Master Larsa is studying privately for his coming winter exams," Helen Drace, the nanny and private tutor for the young man told Tribune contacts in Manhattan. "Anyone suggesting otherwise should get their head examined."

In other Solidor affairs, Albert Cid Margrace has reportedly planned an excursion to Chicago. Could he perhaps be planning to tour R.A. Banastre Inc.? Spokesmen for the oil giant have declined comment, but Margrace Oil's claims about a buyout are already causing gossip on the Board of Trade floor. The Texan is due to arrive in the Windy City sometime in the next few weeks.

--

The snow swirled by outside the train window, the rumbling locomotive keeping her from enjoying the book in her lap. Vossler sat across from her, anger plainly written across his face. They'd traveled in silence for the past two hours now, but it appeared that her friend could no longer contain himself.

"I wired your uncle before I came to the train station this morning," he told her as she saw Vaan and Penny scamper off toward the dining car, dragging Basch along with them. "He won't say anything since you're not exactly supposed to be alive."

Ashe kept the grip on her book firm so her hands wouldn't shake. She was furious that he'd followed them. They didn't need anyone else trying to get into the bank vault, if he let her go at all. She was surprised he hadn't made them get off the train already. "So? What about my case? Have you accomplished anything with that?"

He frowned at her. "I didn't have time to go in to the office today, you know that…"

Balthier appeared at the door of their compartment then, his hat hanging low over his eyes once more. "They're checking tickets. We're drawing attention sitting together. Fran and I are going up to the front car." He didn't wait for an answer and departed.

She turned back to Vossler. "Well, what can we do for R.A. Banastre? Anything?"

His eyes were troubled, but she didn't exactly know why. "Look, whatever's in your father's bank box…that's the first step. It all begins with that." He rose from the seat, leaving her alone until Vaan and Penny joined her an hour or so later.

"So," Vaan said, munching on an apple. "Why would your dad keep stuff in Kansas City?"

She shrugged. "He was overly cautious with his personal effects. He had a few safes at home, mostly with all his Egypt stuff. And then I guess he spread his things out, made sure he didn't keep everything in one place."

"Egypt stuff?" Penny asked. "What do you mean?"

Ashe smiled at the thought. She missed her father terribly, and his greatest hobby always amused her. Why Raminas B'Nargin went into the chemical business and not archaeology she'd never understand. "He was obsessed. With mummies and tombs and things. He was really into it. Do you remember when they found King Tut's tomb?"

Vaan nodded. "Sure."

"My father helped finance Howard Carter's trip. Without my father's money, he might have never been able to find the tomb. He'd always wanted to go to Egypt himself. He said when he retired he would go…" Her voice trailed off, the memories of her father's horrible death far too painful for her to think about.

"I'm sorry, Ashe," Penny said quietly.

She shook her head. "It's alright. If we get his papers, he won't have died for nothing."

Vaan looked equally upset and nodded. She'd heard that his and Penny's home was now under watch by the Pinkertons. No wonder he was out of sorts. "Good. The sooner Archadia goes down, the better."

Ashe hoped things would go smoothly with the bank. Of course, going with a criminal, a wanted man, and her overprotective caretaker were definitely going to complicate things. She glanced back out the window. The sun shone down on the corn fields as they continued west to Kansas City.