The hour of four approached. The Pelican dropped its sail and let the current carry it toward shore. The prison was located directly on the waterfront to ensure the quick transportation of the criminals kept inside. Fortunately for Kail, this also provided a much easier target as he would not have to go inland to make this rescue.
“Load the hook,” Kail instructed, resuming his duty as captain.
A few of the men took a large grappling hook and stuck it into the largest cannon on deck. The hook was attached to a slack chain that was secured to the main mast.
“Are you sure this is going to work captain?” Blabber asked. His real name was Snark, but the crew all referred to him by his nickname that was granted him for never shutting his mouth.
“Of course I’m not sure, Blabber,” Kail answered. “But what fun would this be if I was?”
Blabber swallowed hard. His long, thin neck made inexplicable gulping noises. He looked around for confirmation that he was not the only nervous one. He wasn’t.
Kail went on about the plan. “So these walls are rigged with motion bells,” he pointed ahead to the entrance of the prison. “They’ll start ringing for sure once the hook has landed.”
Foghorn picked up the instruction. “This means that we have about five minutes before this place is swarming with Hawks.”
Kail remembered the time that a slight tremor set off the prison bells and how it caused a parade of Hawks, including the Royal Guard to come storming out, ready to apprehend some villain. He was only a boy then, but the sight of the uniformed marching excited him. At that time he made up his mind to become one of the Royal Guard one day. Now, if luck was on his side, they would be nowhere in sight.
“Get the Nestling ready,” he ordered. The assigned men got in wearing their costumes. Two men sported gray, full body suits, the traditional prisoner garb, and were cuffed to railing. The three others, including Foghorn, wore deep purple vests with blue, long-sleeve undershirts and stiff black pants. Hawk uniforms. All the outfits were acquired after boarding a Pleneasian ship in the process of transferring outfits from their production factory in Margraev. Though he had hoped for more valuables at the time, these outfits were finally serving a purpose.
Men frantically lowered the armored boat into the water and prepared for further instruction. “After Foghorn has cleared the loading dock and we’re in range we shoot the grappler at the search light. Hopefully the light is high enough up so as not to trigger the motion detector.”
“Sounds foolproof,” Blabber chimed in. He smiled his goofy grin, which made his already large nose look larger. “And what if they recognize the Nestling? Then what?”
Kail didn’t appreciate the insinuation that he had not thought this through. “They won’t. The Nestling is indistinguishable from any other armored lifeboat. Besides, there is no uniformity to the boats that bring new prisoners in.” Kail had a vast knowledge of Pleneasia, having lived there for the first 57 seasons of his life, before the decree was issued that… The thought made him tense up.
“Ok, but what if…” Blabber tailed off muttering something indiscernible, that Kail had no interest in hearing. He focused on the Nestling approaching the dock.
“It’s all you now Foggy,” he whispered.
The Nestling approached the dock and was greeted by two serious looking Hawks. Two more looked on from the entrance with crossbows in hand.
