
Escape 47-10-15 Ep010 A Shipment Of Mute Fate
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Chris Warner
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Narrator
Did you miss out on that big football game last week? Can't get rid of that head cold. Want to get away from it all?
William N. Robeson
CBS offers you escape.
Narrator
You are groping your way slowly through the dark hold of a ship at sea, moving carefully, step by step, searching intently for something you dread to find because you know that this ship carries a cargo of death.
William N. Robeson
The Columbia Broadcasting System and its affiliated stations presents Escape, Produced and directed by William N. Robeson and carefully plotted to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure.
Narrator
Tonight we escape to a harbor front in Venezuela and a grim voyage that started there. As told by Martin Storm and his gripping story, A Shipment of Mute Fate.
Chris Warner
I stopped on the wharf at La Guayra and looked up the gang plank toward the liner Chan Cave, standing quietly there at her moorings. The day was warm under a bright tropic sun, and the harbor beyond the ship lay drowsy and silent. But all at once, in the midst of these peaceful surroundings, a cold chill gripped me and I shivered with sudden dread. Dread of the thing I was doing and was about to do. But too much had happened to turn back now. I'd gone too far to stop. So I set the box down on the edge of the wharf, placed it carefully so as to be in plain sight and within gunshot of the captain's bridge. And then I turned and started up the gang plank. I knew what I was going to do, but I couldn't forget that a certain pair of beady eyes were watching every move I made. Eyes that never blinked and never closed. Just watched and waited.
Mother Willis
Oh, a biggie put. Why, it's Mr. Warner.
Chris Warner
Hello, Mother Willis. How's the best looking stewardess on the seven seas?
Mother Willis
Well, I'm fine, Mr. Warner, I guess. Better run along now, get on with my chore.
Chris Warner
Now, wait a minute. That's a fine greeting after two months.
Mother Willis
Well, it's just that I'm so busy.
Chris Warner
I don't believe a word of it. Sailing days tomorrow. You're simply avoiding me, that's all.
Mother Willis
Oh, no, really, I'm not.
Chris Warner
And on the trip down from New York, you said I was your favorite passenger.
Mother Willis
But I'm only.
Chris Warner
Here, wait a minute. What's that you're carrying in your apron?
Mother Willis
It's nothing. Just supplies.
Chris Warner
Supplies? Let's have a look.
Mother Willis
No, please.
Chris Warner
What do you know? It's a cat.
Mother Willis
It's Clara. Mr. Warner.
Chris Warner
Mr.
Mother Willis
Bowman said I had to leave her ashore and I just couldn't.
Chris Warner
Who's Mr. Bowman?
Mother Willis
The new chief steward. Clara's been aboard with me for two years, and I just can't leave her here in a foreign country. Especially with her condition. It's a delicate and all.
Chris Warner
Yeah, I see what you mean. Well, I hope you get away with it. You.
Mother Willis
You won't tell anyone?
Chris Warner
Not a soul. As a matter of fact, if things don't work out right, we may both end up smuggling.
Captain Wood
Most happy to have you on board on the trip down two months ago. Christopher. I'm very glad you're coming along with us on the run back to New York.
Chris Warner
Thanks, Captain Wood. There is one thing, though, and having a little trouble with the customs men here, and I wondered if you might.
Captain Wood
I can't do it, Christopher. I just cabled your father this morning. Told him I'd done it for you if I possibly could. He sent a request from New York, you know.
Chris Warner
Yeah, I thought he would. I wired him from upriver last week.
Captain Wood
I hate to refuse, but it's absolutely out of the question.
Chris Warner
Well, Captain Wood, I'm afraid I don't follow you there.
Captain Wood
Responsibility to the passenger, son. When have women and children aboard on a liner, the safety of the passengers comes ahead of anything.
Chris Warner
But with proper precautions, something might happen.
Captain Wood
I don't know what, but something might.
Chris Warner
You've carried worse things.
Captain Wood
There isn't anything worse. And any skipper afloat will bear me out. Now, Christopher, I simply can't take the chance, and that's final.
Chris Warner
Final? Well, it wasn't final if I could do anything about it. I hadn't come down here to spend two months in that stinking back country and then be stopped on the edge of the wharf. Two months of it. Heat, rain, insects, malaria. I'd gone clear in past the headwaters of the Orinoco. Traveled through country where every step along the jungle trail might be the last one. Oh, Sanchez.
Sanchez
Si, senor Juana.
Chris Warner
We better start looking for a place to camp. Be dark in a little while.
Sanchez
Si, senor. Very soon we turn to river camp on rocks by water. This very bad country.
Chris Warner
This very bad country you've been saying that for 10 days now. Very bad country, Senor Warner.
Sanchez
This very bad country.
Chris Warner
Yeah, we'll skip it. For all the luck we've had so far, it might as well be Central Park.
Sanchez
Central Park? I don't understand.
Chris Warner
Never mind. If we don't find something Here. Here. What's the matter? Quiet now. Sanchez, what's wrong?
Sanchez
They're in the path.
Chris Warner
See?
Sanchez
Bushmaster.
Chris Warner
Bushmaster? The deadliest snake in the world. Bushmaster. Its Latin name was lacusis muta. Mute fate. It lay there in the center of the path, a 10 foot length of silent death, coiled loosely in an undulant loop, ready to strike violently at the least movement. Here was the one snake that would go after any animal that walked or any man. It lay there and watched us, not moving, not afraid, ready for anything. The splotch of its colors stood out like some horrible, gaudy floor mat. Lying there on the brow background of the jungle, waiting for someone to step on it. Here was what I'd come 2,000 miles for. A bushmaster. Sanchez, I didn't want that snake killed.
Sanchez
In no kill, senor. He gone. Bushmaster very smart, very quick. Must always see a bullet in time to dodge.
Chris Warner
Well, anyway, he's gone. And the only one we've seen in five weeks.
Sanchez
Oh, we find other this very bad country.
Chris Warner
Well, lay off that gun. The next time, don't shoot, you understand?
Sanchez
Why you say no shoot? You want boche, master?
Chris Warner
Sure, but I want it alive.
Sanchez
Hombre sel cristo, Senor Warner. You tell me you want bushmaster, but you no say alive.
Chris Warner
You're getting $200 for it.
Sanchez
For dead man. What is 200$? Tomorrow we go back to Caracas.
Chris Warner
I'll make it 500. Sanchez.
Sanchez
I catch water snake, rattlesnake, any other kind. But I no catch bushmaster.
Chris Warner
Sanchez, I'll give you $1000, we go back to Caracas. It cost me 1500American dollars. But three days later, Sanchez brought me the snake in a rubber bag. He was shaking so hard, I thought for a moment the thing had struck him.
Sanchez
One thing. You make sure Senor Warner not turn him loose in Venezuela. Because he know I the one who catch him. And he know where I live.
Chris Warner
All right, Sanchez. I'll keep an eye on him.
Sanchez
Tambien, he know you pay me to catch him all the time. He watch and wait. You no forget that Senor Warner. Because he no forget. Not ever.
Chris Warner
Well, after going through all that trouble and danger and laying out 1500 bucks, I wasn't going to let a pig headed ship captain stop me. At the last minute. At least not as long as the cables were still in operation between La Guayra and New York. Morning, Captain Wood. BOY @ the hotel said you wanted to see me.
Captain Wood
That's right, Christopher. Sit down.
Chris Warner
Thank you.
Captain Wood
Seems you weren't willing to let matters stand the way we left them yesterday.
Chris Warner
I'm sorry to go over your head, Captain Wood, but I had to. The museum sent me all the way down here for it, and I'm not going to be stopped by red tape. This will be the only live bushmaster ever brought to the United States.
Captain Wood
Yes, and if I had my way. But. Well, orders are orders. I got a cable from the head office this morning. All right. I suppose we talk about precautions.
Chris Warner
I'll handle it any way you say.
Captain Wood
Gotta have a stronger box. That crate's too flimsy.
Chris Warner
It's stronger than it looks. And that wire screen on top would hold a wildcat. But anyway, I bought a heavy sea chest this morning. I will put the crate inside of it.
Captain Wood
Sounds all right. You got a lock on it?
Chris Warner
Heavy padlock. It's fixed so that the lid can be propped open a crack without unlocking it. A snake's gotta have air, but in.
Captain Wood
Dirty weather, that lid stays shut. I'll take no chances.
Chris Warner
Fair enough.
Captain Wood
I will keep the thing in my inside cabin where I sleep. I can't have it in the baggage room, and nobody on board's to know about it.
Chris Warner
Whatever you say, Captain, but we won't have any trouble. After all, it's only an animal. It doesn't have any magical powers.
Captain Wood
I saw a bushmaster in the zoo at Caracas once. Had it in a glass cage with double walls. It had never moved, just lay there. Look at you. As long as you were in sight. Gave a man the creeps.
Chris Warner
I didn't know they had a bushmaster at the Caracas Zoo.
Captain Wood
They don't, no. Found the glass broken one morning and the snake gone. Night watchman was dead. They never found out what happened.
Chris Warner
Well, the watchman must have broken the glass by accident some way.
Captain Wood
The way they figured it, the glass was broken from the inside. We sail in four hours.
Chris Warner
We steam north into the Caribbean with perfect weather and a sea as smooth as an inland lake. The barometer dropped a little on the third day but cleared up overnight and left nothing worse than a heavy swell. But in spite of the calm seas and the pleasant weather, I found myself feeling more and more often an ominous foreboding. I was developing an almost unnatural fear of that snake. Well, I stayed clear of the passengers pretty Much got the habit of dropping into Captain Wood's quarters several times a day. He kept the heavy box underneath his berth. I'd approach it quietly and shine my flashlight through the open crack. Never once could I catch that 12 foot devil asleep or even excited. He'd be lying there half coiled, his head raised a little, staring out of those beady black eyes. Waiting. He'd still be like that when I'd turn away to leave. Maybe that's what bothered me. That horrible and constant watchful waiting. What in the name of heaven was he waiting for?
Mother Willis
Well, hello there, Mr. Warner.
Chris Warner
Oh, how are you, Mother Willis?
Mother Willis
Why, but you and the captain spend an awful lot of time around this cabin. I'm beginning to think the two of you must have some guilty secret.
Chris Warner
Oh, no, nothing like that, Mother Willis. I don't know about Captain Wood, but I. Well, I certainly don't have any guilty secrets. Well, she's running quite a swell out there, Mr. Bolton.
Mr. Woolman
Yeah, it's a little heavy all right, Mr. Warner. Guess a storm passed through to the west of us yesterday when the glass dropped.
Chris Warner
Think it missed us then, huh?
Mr. Woolman
Yeah, that's what the mate figures. Sure stirred up some water, though.
Chris Warner
This'll put half the passengers in their bunks.
Mr. Woolman
Makes it great for my department. Two thirds of them will want a steward to hold their heads.
Chris Warner
They'll keep Mother Willis so busy she'll have. Wait. Look at the size of that wave, huh?
Mr. Woolman
Great Jehoshaphat. We're gonna take it on the port bow hang.
Chris Warner
Well, that was a freak if there ever was one.
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Chris Warner
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Mr. Woolman
You see them like that sometimes, even in a calm sea. Well, I gotta get below, Mr. Warner. That water probably did some damage on the officer's deck.
Chris Warner
Yeah, I suppose it. What did you say?
Mr. Woolman
The wheel companionway was open on the port side bridge cabins must have taken a pretty bad smashing up. They're right below the here. Is something wrong, Mr. Warner?
Chris Warner
No, no, nothing at all, Mr. Woolman. At least, I hope not. I looked first for Captain Wood and couldn't find him. Of course, I knew it was only one chance in a thousand. But the chances against that freak wave were one in a thousand too. Well, I couldn't waste any more time, so I stumbled down the companionway and along the passage to the captain's cabin.
Mother Willis
Oh. Oh, come on in, Mr. Warner.
Chris Warner
Mother. Willis.
Mother Willis
My, isn't this cabin a mess trying to get some of these things out to dry.
Chris Warner
Yeah, well, I just wanted to check. Where's that box that was under the captain's bunk?
Mother Willis
Threw it out on that.
Chris Warner
But where? We didn't know. It was nearly dark when we met together again in the chart room.
Mr. Woolman
I don't get to think at all.
Captain Wood
There's no other way around it. We've risked all the time we can. We got to warn the passengers.
Chris Warner
How we do it, Captain. Call them all together in the lounge.
Captain Wood
No. If we did anything like that, we'd be asking for a panic.
Mr. Woolman
We'll get one whether we ask for it or not.
Captain Wood
Pick a few men and go through the cabin decks. Tell them individually inside their cabins. Watch for any act that looks as though it might cause trouble. And we'll keep an eye on them, handle the crew the same way.
Chris Warner
Okay.
Captain Wood
As soon as you're finished, arm all the deck officers and start searching again. Our only chance of preventing a riot is to find that damnable snake.
Chris Warner
The slow nightmare that followed grew worse by the hour. None of us slept. All the ship's officers not on duty kept on with that endless search. Passengers locked themselves in their cabins or huddled together in the lounges, knowing all the time that no spot on board could be called safe. Fear was a heavy fog in the lungs of all of us, and every light on the vessel burned throughout the night. Morning came and brought no relief. Terror and tension mounted by the hour.
Mother Willis
There now, Mrs. Crane, stop getting yourself all worked up and go back to your cabin. The horrid things probably crawled overboard anyway.
Chris Warner
You're just saying that. You're paid to say it. You don't know. Nobody does.
Mother Willis
Now, now. Everything. Everything's gonna be all right.
Chris Warner
Oh, if you could only do something. If all of us could only get off the ship, they could fumigate it. Yes, that's what we've got to do. We've got to get off the ship.
Captain Wood
Now.
Chris Warner
Wait, Mr. Bowman. Mr. Bowman, she's gonna jump.
Mr. Woolman
No, you don't, lady.
Chris Warner
Let me go. Let me go. Let me go.
Captain Wood
Nice work, Mr. Bowman. Get her down to her cabin.
Chris Warner
Whatever you Do.
Captain Wood
Don't turn her loose.
Chris Warner
You never know when it might strike you. You can't put on a coat or move a chair without risking your life. Now, something's gotta be done. It might be right here in this flower.
Mr. Woolman
All right, mister, you better quiet down.
Chris Warner
Take it easy. Take it easy, huh? Well, you're a great officer. Why don't you do something about it? That thing might be crawling around here right under our feet somewhere. I said shut up. Are you trying to start a panic? I got a right to talk. I don't want to die. Nobody's going to tell me. The second night passed and morning came around again. A gray and rainy day, just as grim and tense, dragged past. And the night came down again. Third night of the terror. Again every light burned and the whole ship seethed in the throes of incipient panic. Faced by a horror they'd never met on the sea before, crew and officers alike were on the verge of revolt. Passengers sat huddled in a trance like stupor, ready to scream at the slightest unknown sound. At seven bells, I made my way forward to the chart room and found Captain Wood bent over a desk.
Captain Wood
Oh, hello, Christopher. Come on in. Sit down.
Chris Warner
It's got to be somewhere, Captain Wood. It's got to be.
Captain Wood
I don't know. You could search this ship for six months and never touch all the places aboard. We can only hold out for two more days. We'll be in.
Chris Warner
What's the home office say?
Captain Wood
Oh, here's the latest wireless from them. Keep quiet and keep coming. What else can we do? How is it on the decks?
Chris Warner
Pretty bad. Anything could happen.
Captain Wood
Yeah, that's why I took the guns away from the men. One pistol shot and we'd have a riot on our hands.
Chris Warner
Oh, the whole thing's my fault, Captain Wood. That's what I can't forget.
Captain Wood
Take it easy, lad.
Chris Warner
There's only some way I could pay for it myself, alone.
Captain Wood
No. I know how you feel, but it's no more your fault than mine or the man who asked you to bring the snake back alive. Nobody planned this. You'd better try and get a little sleep.
Chris Warner
Sleep?
Captain Wood
Mr. Bowman made some coffee down in the steward's galley a while ago. You better go down and get yourself a cover and then rest up for a couple of hours.
Chris Warner
Rest? I can't rest, Christopher.
Captain Wood
It's no good going. What are you going to do? You can't help anything. You stumble through a hatch half asleep and break your neck. Go on and get some coughing. One way or another, we've got to hold out for two more days.
Chris Warner
The light was on in the stewards galleon. My coffee pot was standing on the stove, was still warm, so I didn't bother to heat it. I poured out a cup, carried it over, and set it on the porcelain tabletop in the center of the room. I started to light a cigarette. The door of the pan cupboard beneath the sink was standing slightly ajar, and I happened to glance down toward it. Out from the dark interior of the cupboard shone two glittering points of light, two inches apart. I dropped a cigarette and moved slowly backward. I'd found the Bushmaster. As I moved, the snake slid out of the cupboard in a single sinuous glide and drew back into a loose coil on the galley floor. Never taking his eyes off me, I moved slowly back, waiting any moment for that deadly slithering strike. How had he known it was me? He'd stayed quiet when Bowman was here. How did he know to pick? The first time in three days when I didn't have a gun? My hands touched the wall behind me and I stopped. Only then I realized in terror what I'd done. The call button and the door were on the far side of the room. I'd backed into a dead end. I stared at the snake in fascination, expecting any moment the ripping slash of those poison fangs. The horrid coils tightened a little and then were still again. 10 million years of evolution to produce this moment. Homo sapiens versus lachesis muta. Man against mute fate. And all the odds were on fate. I knew then that I was going to die. I could feel the sweat run down between the painted wall and palms of my hands pressed against it. My skin crawled and twitched and the pit of my stomach was as cold as ice. There was no sound but the rush of blood in my ears. The snake shifted again, drawing into a tighter coil, always tighter. Why the devil didn't he get it over with? And then, for just an instant, his head veered away. Something moved over by the stove. I didn't dare turn to look at it. Slowly it moved out into my line of vision. There was a cat. That scrawny cat Clara, that Mother Willis had sneaked aboard in La Guayra. Its back was arched and every hair stood on end. It moved stiff legged now, walking in a half circle around the snake. The bushmaster shifted slowly and kept watching the cat. He tightened. He was going to strike at any second. He struck and missed. The cat was barely out of reach now she was walking back and forth again. She was asking to die. Missed again by a fraction of an inch. He was striking now without even going to a full coil. Miss. Again and again, always missing by the barest margin. Each time the cat danced barely out of reach. And each time she countered with one precise spat of a dainty paw, bracing her skinny frame on three stiff legs. And then suddenly I realized what she was doing. The bushmaster was tiring, and one strike was just an instant, slow. But in that split second, sharp claws raked across the evil head and ripped out both of the lidless eyes. That cat had deliberately blinded the snake. Well, he didn't bother to coil now, but slid after in a fury, striking wildly and rapidly, always missing. And every strike was a little slower than the last one. Until finally, as the snake's neck stretched out at the end of a strike, the cat made one leap and sank her razor sharp teeth just back of the ugly head, sank them in until they crunched bone with tooth and claw. She clung as the monstrous snake flailed and lashed on the floor, striving to get those hideous coils around her, trying to break her hold, to shake off the slow and certain paralyzing death that gradually crept over him and at last stilled his struggle forever. I took a deep breath, the first in minutes. The cat lay on her side on the floor, panning, resting from the fight just over. She had a right to rest. That mangy, brave, beautiful alley cat had just saved my life, and maybe others as well. But as I turned toward the stove, I suddenly became very humble, and I knew all at once what a small thing a human being really is. I and others aboard were still alive only by the merest accident. There were three reasons why that cat had fought and killed the world's deadliest snake. And those three reasons came tottering out from under the stove on shaky little legs, three kittens with their eyes bright with wonder and their tails stiff as pokers. Up on the decks, hundreds of passengers were waiting for the news that the days and nights of terror were ended. Well, I could wait a little longer. I pulled open the doors of the cabinet, found a can of milk, and then I dropped down on my knees on the floor of the galley.
William N. Robeson
Escape is produced and directed by William N. Robeson and tonight brought you a shipment of Mute Fate by Martin Storm, adapted for radio by Les Crutchfield with Jack Webb as Chris Warner, Raymond Lawrence as Captain Wood and D.J. thompson as Mother Willis. The special musical score was conceived and conducted by Cy Fuhrer Next week at.
Narrator
The same time, when you're tired from a hard day at the office or leaning over a hot stove all day. When you want to get away from it all, CBS again offers you escape.
William N. Robeson
Good night. Then until this same time next week when CBS again brings you escape. This is cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
Chris Warner
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Podcast: Harold's Old Time Radio
Host/Author: Harolds Old Time Radio
Release Date: March 17, 2025
In the tenth episode of the Escape series titled "A Shipment Of Mute Fate," listeners are transported to the perilous journey aboard the liner Chan Cave. The story revolves around Chris Warner, a determined individual on a mission to smuggle a deadly bushmaster snake from Venezuela to New York for a museum exhibit. As tensions escalate, the episode delves into themes of fear, survival, and unexpected heroism, culminating in a suspenseful and heartwarming resolution.
The episode opens with Chris Warner arriving at the wharf in La Guayra, Venezuela, with a clandestine mission to smuggle a bushmaster snake onto the Chan Cave. His interaction with Mother Willis introduces the critical element of Clara, her pet cat, who plays a pivotal role later in the story.
Chris Warner [02:03]: "I set the box down on the edge of the wharf... Eyes that never blinked and never closed. Just watched and waited."
Chris's determination leads him to negotiate with the ship's Captain Wood to allow the snake aboard. Captain Wood is initially resistant, citing safety concerns and strict protocols.
Captain Wood [04:23]: "Responsibility to the passenger, son. When women and children aboard on a liner, the safety of the passengers comes ahead of anything."
Chris Warner [05:12]: "Heat, rain, insects, malaria. I'd gone clear past the headwaters of the Orinoco..."
As the journey progresses, Chris faces internal conflicts and increasing paranoia over the snake's presence. His repeated attempts to secure the snake's safety clash with Captain Wood's adherence to protocol, heightening the tension on board.
Chris Warner [07:21]: "For dead man. What is 200$? Tomorrow we go back to Caracas."
The true horror unfolds over three nights of relentless searching for the bushmaster, leading to widespread fear and potential panic among passengers and crew. The pivotal moment occurs when Chris finally encounters the snake in the steward's galley, leading to a life-threatening confrontation.
Chris Warner [10:09]: "The first time in three days when I didn't have a gun? My hands touched the wall behind me and I stopped."
In a suspense-filled sequence, Clara the cat intervenes heroically, distracting and ultimately disabling the snake by blinding it, thereby saving Chris's life.
Chris Warner [23:34]: "That mangy, brave, beautiful alley cat had just saved my life, and maybe others as well."
With the snake neutralized, peace returns to the ship. The crew and passengers are relieved, and Chris reflects on the fragility of human existence and the unexpected savior in Clara. The episode concludes with a sense of gratitude and awe for the feline's bravery.
Chris Warner [23:34]: "I knew all at once what a small thing a human being really is. There were three reasons why that cat had fought and killed the world's deadliest snake."
Survival and Fear: The episode masterfully portrays the psychological toll of fear and the instinctual drive for survival in extreme situations.
Human versus Nature: Chris's struggle against the bushmaster symbolizes humanity's ongoing battle with the untamed aspects of the natural world.
Unexpected Heroism: Clara the cat emerges as an unlikely hero, emphasizing that courage and rescue can come from the most unexpected sources.
Moral Ambiguity: Chris's initial intent to smuggle a dangerous animal raises ethical questions about human intervention in nature for personal or scientific gain.
Chris Warner [02:03]: "Eyes that never blinked and never closed. Just watched and waited."
Captain Wood [04:23]: "Responsibility to the passenger, son. When women and children aboard on a liner, the safety of the passengers comes ahead of anything."
Chris Warner [08:35]: "I had to. The museum sent me all the way down here for it, and I'm not going to be stopped by red tape."
Sanchez [07:10]: "You tell me you want bushmaster, but you no say alive."
Captain Wood [17:20]: "We've risked all the time we can. We got to warn the passengers."
Chris Warner [23:34]: "That mangy, brave, beautiful alley cat had just saved my life, and maybe others as well."
"A Shipment Of Mute Fate" is a gripping installment that encapsulates the essence of the Golden Age of Radio dramas. Through its intricate plot and rich character development, the episode offers listeners a captivating tale of suspense, moral dilemmas, and the unexpected forms that courage can take. The interplay between human ambition and nature's unpredictability is skillfully portrayed, making it a standout episode in the Escape series.