The final cars of the freight train clatter past. The clanging bells of the
grade crossing fall silent, the flashing red warning lights go dead. As the red- 
and white-striped barricades rise, Raman twists the throttle and rides the 
Harley chopper over the grade crossing, up the road and between the rusted 
chain-link gates of the abandoned naval base. Another short road brings him to 
the stocky buildings standing along the waterfront.