The car flew through the night sky, Robe handling the controls.  It was full to capacity, and everyone was glad the Doctor preferred an older model car with a wider body and bigger seats.  The interior allowed Bruce, Pip and Darwin to squeeze into the back seat.  The Templar rode shotgun, his young companion’s plasma rifle held across his knee.

     “Keep an eye out,” Robe warned him as they piled in the car at twilight.  “Sometimes the Mob will knock fliers out of the sky.”

     “With what?”

     “Surface retro’s,” Pip whispered as she climbed past him.

     “Rockets?  We were searching for a cache of rockets that were supposed to be hidden in some mountain.”

     “Never found them?” Darwin asked.

     “It was an ongoing search.”

     Darwin nodded, familiar with the concept.

     The ride so far was uneventful.  Robe handled the craft with ease and experience.

     “Have you decided where we are going?”

     “Take us to the coast.  We will find a boat there.”

     Robe laughed.

     “If you tell me what island you want to go to, I can fly us there.”

     Pip groaned from the backseat and rearranged her shoulders.

     “I don’t want to go-” Bruce started for the fifth time.  Pip elbowed him in the ribs, cutting him off.

     “You’re a part of the team now Brucy, better get used to it.”

     The Templar unfolded the paper map that Darwin had printed out in his lab.  He pointed to a small cluster of islands a few miles from the coast.

     “We can make it there easy,” said Robe.  “But isn’t it a little close to the City?”

     “They won’t think to look for us there, will they?  That is what you told me.”