The CRES code

Chapter Twenty - Escape from the city

It was almost midnight when Randall, Jane and Loach arrived back at the docks.

As expected, the priests had arrived there before them, but the docks were three miles long and the priests were separated by hundreds of yards as they spread out to cover the whole area. They had enlisted the help of the city's police, though, and the hibernators saw dozens of the brightly uniformed men standing by the piers and jetties, carefully examining the sailors who were busily preparing their ships to sail with the tide.

"I say we just walk boldly out there," said Loach in a low voice. "If we look confident and natural, if we avoid looking guilty, they might pay us no attention. They're looking for fugitives. They'll be looking for people acting like fugitives."

"And what do we do if they stop and question us?" asked Randall.

"Bluff it out," replied Loach. "Just demand that they stand aside and not interfere with our lawful business. You'll be surprised how often that works."

Randall gave a heavy sigh. "Well, I don't see that we've got any choice," he said. "I also think we should split up, though. Just for the moment. They're looking for two men and a woman. If they see a married couple and a solitary man some distance away, they may not make the connection."

Loach nodded. "I was about to suggest the same thing. So, which ship should we head for?"

Suddenly a bell started ringing somewhere near the city centre. A church bell, but clearly ringing an alarm instead of part of a church service. The three hibernators looked up in alarm. It seemed that the priests wanted to rouse the whole city to search for them.

"This changes nothing," said Loach reassuringly. "In fact it's good for us. If we act calm and confident the police will think it can't possibly be to do with us. They'll be looking for people panicked and running. All we've got to do is keep our heads about us."

"Are you sure of that?" asked Randall.

"Yes," replied the mob boss, but his eyes were wide and he was struggling to keep his breathing slow and steady. "Besides, as you said, what choice do we have?"

Randall nodded. "Okay," he said. "You okay having the girl with you?"

"Doesn't the girl have a say?" asked Jane testily.

Loach ignored her. "You should have her, I think," he said. "You look more like a family man than I do. She doesn't look like the kind of woman I'd choose as a wife."

"What the hell does that mean?" demanded Jane indignantly. "You only go out with supermodels or something?"

"She has a point," said Randall. "Neither of us look like men of power at the moment. Neither of us look like the type to have a trophy wife."

"Fine," said Loach. "I'll take her, then." He looked out at the closest ships, then looked left and right at the priests and policemen standing along the docks. "That ship there, I think," he said. "The one with the red stripe. Is that red? It's hard to see in this light."

"Doesn't matter, I see the ship you mean. I'll go first. I'll make for that policeman there, ask him what all the commotion is. He'll never suspect me of being a fugitive if I deliberately bring myself to his attention."

"Isn't that a tired old cliché?" said Jane, though. "Won't he suspect?"

"It was a tired old cliché back in our day," replied Randall, "when it was used over and over again in every cheap novel and TV series, but that's all gone now. Forgotten. All the tired old clichés are new again." He gave Jane a reassuring smile, but she still looked doubtful.