“I said proper identification.”
Roger contemplated for a moment. He still held Harold in contempt, but… something was off. His old instincts returned and they shouted in his ear – no matter what, do not let the policeman take Harold.
“He’s with us,” Roger uttered. “He must’ve… dropped it while boarding.”
“That doesn’t hold up, according to protocol,” the officer said and retreated into his thoughts for a moment. Then, he continued, “But I’ll allow it. Just don’t get searched by anyone else, brother. They won’t be this lax.”
The three nodded and the policeman went on. Harold was dazed from the strange encounter and Rose had a mysterious look on her face. She knew what was going on. Roger had to ask her hundreds of questions once they got out of this crooked place.
The three shared glances and nods and wordlessly made their escape out of the station. The sea of people, trench coats, stopwatches flowed against them, but the tension in the air propelled them forth. After a minute, Roger’s body started giving in. His limp worsened. And he started dragging.
A dozen meters ahead, an officer stopped Harold and Rose. The woman showed her flower and was let go. Harold didn’t get off so easy. He yelped, twitched and threw elbows.
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