We've got to flee, Jeff

''The police used a new technique to protect the Bank of London. Part of the roof was detached so that in times of robbery it can be broken through immediately, and the men of the police can immediately stop the robbery in question. They had been informed in advance that a robbery would most likely take place last night, and so they were already on standby. The perpetrators have not yet been caught, but the sketches below show what they probably look like.'' Read Jeff to Harold. 'Yes, that's us. We're there.' He finished with a sigh.

Harold sighed as well. 'What now?

Jeff shrugged. 'Good question, I think we have only one option: flee. But how?'

'Maybe if we take the train now, we'll be gone before the police realize it,' Harold replied. 'Have you ever been in one of those? They say one of those things goes thirty kilometers an hour, there's nothing faster.'

Jeff looked outside, through the now yellowish window. It was discolored by time. 'I don't know, there are rich people on those trains, and rich people read the newspaper. Then we might as well turn ourselves in right away.'

'And what the hell else are we supposed to do, right?' he looked at Jeff for a moment, but he looked away. There was nothing else they could do, hiding was not an option. He'd fuck that up. And if they just went on with their normal lives they would be recognized too quickly.

'All right, we'll go by train, but what did you have in mind? In the North of England they might as well recognize us,' he said.

Harold nodded. 'I know another friend.' He got up from his seat and took the long, dark coat off the railing. He fumbled in his coat for a moment and a moment later took out his cap. The gray fabric with a chequered pattern had been folded up. Quietly he put it on while he conjured a cigarette from his other pocket. 'We're going,' he said.

'Right here,' Harold said, turning into an alley that Jeff hadn't even seen. He followed.

A beat later, the two of them were walking between houses that were so close together that he had to walk in width, or both his shoulders would touch the walls of the houses. The houses were old because they leaned over so much that the gutters almost touched in some places. He had to bend down a little to keep from bumping into them. They were close to the factory district, the cottages probably belonged to factory workers, and through the smoke from the huge chimneys of the factories, he could barely see Harold. He coughed.

"Be quiet!" cried Harold so loudly that it drowned out his coughing. Jeff chuckled at the irony.

A moment later they were walking back out of the alley. He nearly sprained his ankles several times by the poorly laid stones that were supposed to form a path. He cursed. Two feet in front of him, Harold gestured for him to come along.

'You still haven't said what we are going to do.'

Harold turned around. 'You're about to find out. On your knees.'

They crawled for a bit, and finally, they came out to a place that looked like a cross between a harbor and a sewer. Three boats were bobbing in the channel in the middle, and to the left of the water, an old man sat on a chair behind a table. An empty bottle was on the table in front of him and he was asleep.

'Edward, wake up.'

The man shot up in surprise and began poking around in the vacuum with the knife he seemingly had in his hand.

'Who is there? Make yourself known! Jeff now saw that he was squinting.

Harold walked over to the water and grabbed the bucket that was hanging on a hook. He filled it with water from the canal and then poured the contents over Edward. Edward shivered.

'Oh, dear. You again. I haven't seen you in a long time.'

At first, it came across to Jeff as if Edward didn't like Harold, but that turned out to be played. The grins on both their faces told a different story.

'What have you been up to this time?" asked Edward.

'Did you read the paper?" asked Harold back.

Edward looked at him. 'Do I look like I read the paper?'

Harold laughed. 'No, there again you have a point.' Then he pointed to Jeff. 'Jeff and I robbed the Bank of London last night. And we got rather... trapped if you know what I mean. Our faces are drawn in the paper, neither of us is safe here anymore. I was wondering if you could get us out of here.'

'You've got the... what? My god.' Edward rubbed his hand over his mouth. 'Suckers,' was all he managed to get out after a while.

'Yeah, we figured that out ourselves. But do you have anything?" asked Harold impatiently.

'Yes, but I don't think you're going to like it...' replied Edward. 'Ever heard of "The Tommy Express"?'

Harold looked Edward in the eye. 'Are you serious?

'Unfortunately, yes.'

'I thought that was a myth...' silence fell for a moment. A silence that was interrupted by Jeff.

'Hello, can anyone here tell me what this "The Tommy Express" is all about?'

Harold thought for a moment. 'It's a train that runs from Amsterdam to China. And no, there is no such thing as a track that long, at least not for the normal person. "The Tommy Express" is a train specifically for criminals who want to escape inconspicuously. The track is mostly underground, almost no one has ever seen it. The journey takes more than a year," Jeff said. 'I thought it was a myth,' he repeated.

Jeff frowned. 'But then why are we making such a big deal about it? It's the perfect solution, isn't it?'

Edward cleared his throat. 'There are a few little things Harold hasn't told you yet. So that the police can't get in from the outside, the door is locked during the entire trip, and there is no way you can get in or out. And because only criminals use it, the proportion that survives the trip is about ten percent...'

Jeff looked perplexed, 'Oh...'

Edward seemed to remember something. 'If you still want to go you'll have to hurry. The train leaves in twenty-four hours and you still have to take the boat to Amsterdam.'

Harold pulled Jeff by his sleeve. 'No time to lose then,' he jumped into the boat nearest them and grabbed the oars. 'Thanks, Edward,' he said before going.