Ryan nodded, but was cut short from adding anything by the voice of Blake behind him.
“Time for the meet. Harv sent us ’cause he don’t trust you,” the small sec man said apologetically. He and Downey, blasters in hand, stood at the entrance to the unit, both looking embarrassed by their appointed task.
As the drapes opened, Dean had reacted quickly, sliding off the bed so that he was sheltered from view. Downey and Blake wouldn’t be expecting to find him, so would not search the unit if he wasn’t with the party that left; he had to hope that they hadn’t heard him or glanced at him when they entered. Doc, nearest to the youngster, pulled a blanket from the bed, catching the bottom hem with the toe of his boot and dragging it down so that Dean was covered.
No one else noticed.
“It is a pity we did not get that chance to look for young Dean, and that the lad seems destined to stay lost,” Doc said with a perfectly straight face.
The inference was clear, and no one spoke of Dean as they assembled in silence, then followed the sec men from the unit and on the journey to the main hall. There was nothing to be said that wouldn’t give clues as to any possible course of action. It would be every man for himself, staying triple-red alert. It wouldn’t be the first time they had been in such a situation.
The one thing that did puzzle them individually was that the sec men had made no attempt to take their weapons. Still armed, it would have been easy for them to overpower Blake and Downey and try to effect their escape. The problem with that being that if sec men had been sent, it wouldn’t be beyond Harvey to set up sec parties to ambush them if they attempted it. At least dealing with Alien they had some chance of reasoning with him.
BACK IN THE SLEEPING UNIT, Dean waited until the footsteps had receded into the distance before emerging from behind the bed. While he was there, he unholstered his Browning Hi-Power and checked that it was fully loaded. He was thankful for Jenna and Harvey’s confidence in the restraints on the operating table. They deemed it unnecessary to remove the blaster from the carelessly discarded pile of clothing. He slipped the blaster back to its place of concealment, fingers lingering on it to feel the position of the butt and grip, mentally mapping it for when it was necessary.
Dean then crossed the floor and drew back the drape. They had disappeared around a bend in the tunnel, but he knew the route to the main hall, so it wasn’t necessary to keep them in sight.
He followed at a pace he calculated—from their speed on leaving—would keep him equidistant from them until he reached the main hall himself. What he would do when he got there, he wasn’t sure. He would have to assess the situation as he found it.
Dean kept his head down and tried to blend in with his surroundings. He was aware from the reception he had received when Ham and Donal had helped him from the ventilation duct that his disappearance had been well noted, and that there had been a search for him. Obviously, word of his escape hadn’t yet reached the ears of the sec men who had come to escort his companions. He hoped that it hadn’t had time to spread, and that he could remain fairly anonymous.
The ville seemed to be almost empty as he made his way to the main hall. This was good for Dean, as it allowed him to pass unnoticed. However, he did find the fact that his father and companions would be facing the whole of Raw a cause for concern.
As he neared the hall itself, there was a swell of sound as the muttered conversations of the whole ville gathered in one room hit him. The sound was too overlapping and confusing for Dean to make out anything in particular, but from snatches that could be discerned, he gleaned that not even the ville dwellers themselves knew what this was about.