Exiles

  * * * *

  The doors of right most lift slid open disgorging a small security team onto the landing. They moved swiftly down the corridor lead by a fresh faced young officer.

  “Remember treat him with respect, but put your personal feelings aside, hero, liberator, whatever you think he is we have a job to do so let’s be professional about it.”

  He pinged the door intercom and waited respectfully for a reply. When none came he gestured to his team to stand ready and overrode the door locks. The office was deserted, save for the mute, immaculate dressed mannequin, between the desk and the window.

  “Control this is James, Ford’s gone and so has his kit.”

  “Roger that is the chief with you?”

  “Negative control, we’ve been unable to raise him.”

  There was a brief silence, follow by the harsh blare of security alarms.

  “This is control, were locking down the facility. It looks like the chief has gone native and is helping him to escape. We think their heading to the upper levels to get a ship, get after them.”

  “Roger control.” he turned his radio off and turned to his men. “You heard the man, but let’s not try too hard, just enough to make it look good?”

  There was a general mummer of agreement as they jogged back towards the lifts.