Just as they had the score secured and everyone was seated on the escape boat, they heard someone call out to them from the end of the dock.
“Wait! Wait!” a man’s voice shouted to them. He ran towards them and everyone pointed their guns at him. He either didn’t see or didn’t care. He approached anyway, stopping at the edge of the dock. He doubled over, hands on his knees, and panted. After he caught his breath, he stood upright again.
His tie, mask, and gloves marked him as Syndicate agent too.
“Please,” he huffed, putting his hands up to show he was not planning to pull anything, “let me come with you. My crew’s all been arrested. I’ve been running from cops since 9:00.” It was now 11:35.
They had room on the boat; it wouldn’t have been a problem to let him board. Yet none of them lowered their weapons. Cleo, Dixie, and Melrose all looked to Dauphin. He was lead on this job so it was up to him if he wanted to take the risk.
“How do we know you’re not an undercover cop trying to get us all arrested too?” he asked.
“I’m not!” the man on the dock said. Panic rose up in his face. How could he disprove that?
“If you’re a Syndicate agent,” Cleo said, “show us your profile.”
Relief swept over his face. He reached into his back pocket and whipped out his phone. Unlocking it and swiping around for a moment, he turned the screen’s bright face to show them.
His codename was Vermouth. He had a 2.2 rating and he looked a lot less sweaty and harried in his profile picture.
“What do you think, Dauphin?” Melrose asked. Cleo and Dixie had lowered their weapons, but Melrose steadfastly pointed his shotgun at Vermouth.
Dauphin regarded the profile on the phone’s screen. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Vermouth exactly. If he could make a decision without answering to anyone, he would’ve already let the poor guy on the boat. It was more that it was still possible for the police to fabricate a fake Syndicate profile and even if this guy was legit, Dauphin didn’t want to be known for taking risks with other agents’ freedom. The peer review system made the work so much more political than it needed to be.
“What’s the codeword?” he asked.
Vermouth scowled.
“There isn’t any codeword! Man, if you’re gonna leave me to go fuck myself, just say so already.”
“All right, get in,” Dauphin said.
“The fuck was that about?” Dixie asked, leaning over so Vermouth could climb over her into the boat.
“If he was a cop, he probably would have tried to guess the codeword or say he forgot it,” Dauphin explained. “But since he’s an agent, he knows there isn’t one.” There was still a remote possibility that Vermouth was a cop and just had a lucky guess, but Dauphin wouldn’t be getting any bad reviews for not attempting to check. Worst case scenario, if Vermouth did turn out to be an undercover cop after all of this, they could kill him and throw his body overboard.
“Clever,” Cleo said.
Vermouth flopped down in a seat next to Dixie and let out a heavy groan of relief. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as the boat gently pulled away from the dock.
“Why didn’t you just take your mask and gloves off?” Dixie asked.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you just take your mask off, dude? The cops caint be hasslin’ everyone in a gray suit. That’s why they make us wear them.”
“I can take the mask off?” Vermouth said, bolting upright. “I didn’t know I could do that!”
“You’re supposed to do that,” Dixie said. “God, does no one read the fuckin’ manual?” Cleo snorted, amused at Dixie’s exasperation.
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to take off the mask. It’s part of the uniform.”
“Sure, not during the robbery, but afterward?” Dixie said. “I mean, this ain’t The fuckin’ Warriors, dude. You don’t have to wear your colors when you’re trying to hide.”
Thankfully for Vermouth’s pride, they were now leaving the marina. The boat increased speed and the water was choppy enough that everyone had to focus on staying seated rather than berating him for his inattention to protocol.
This story was part of my 2019 TRL event.
Cleo and Dixie are running to the escape boat (yeah, switching it up a bit) with their crew for the day. However, as the last guy’s getting in, some other Syndicate guy is running up begging them to let him in. For one reason or another, his crew left him behind, and now he’s gotta bum a ride or get arrested.
– Paupers Run
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