The Union Pacific railroad line from Los Angeles to Las Vegas runs straight through the desolate heart of the eastern Mojave. Sometimes both sides of the track have been littered with boxes of merchandise the thieves have thrown off the train. This has been one of their favorite spots. It's night, and Duncan is hunkered under a concrete railroad bridge with Union Pacific special agent David Sachs, who is dressed Ninja-fashion entirely in black, including Kevlar vest and boonie hat.
Moonlight casts spectral shadows across sage, tamarisk and gray desert floor.
Two other pairs of railroad police, and a German shepherd, are concealed along the tracks. Half a mile away, another special agent, Darrell Brown, an infared night scope slung around his neck, has taken position atop a railroad signal mast. Suddenly, there's the flash of the train's headlamp and the squealing and wheezing of steel wheels as the 120-car freight starts up the grade. But from his vantage point atop the signal mast, Brown will be able to peer directly into the tubs as the train rumbles by beneath him. The train crews seldom spot them, unless they're alerted by a crew on a train going the other direction.