Page 82
Story: Shadowfox
And we’d missed our window.
My eyes snapped up at a light scuffing, barely audible even beneath the deafening cloak of night. A darkened shape resolved into a familiar form as Thomas appeared. His coat collar was pulled high. One hand rested on the top button, the other deep in his pocket. His eyes bored into me as he approached.
“You clean?” he asked.
I nodded once, not trusting my voice to a whisper.
He motioned, and we stepped farther into the shadows, crouching low behind a brick half wall, hidden from the street. My hand lifted and touched his. The touch, however brief, chased a measure of darkness away. Thomas gave me a tight-lipped grin, as close to a smile as any mission allowed.
Two minutes passed.
Then five.
Footsteps echoed down the lane.
“Sparrow,” I whispered, recognizing the stride.
She rounded the corner a beat later, cheeks flushed, breathing fast. Egret wasn’t far behind her, muttering a string of colorful curses under his breath that carried on the night air.
“What the hell happened?” Egret snapped.
“We don’t know,” Thomas said.
“You mean they chickened out? Or they were picked up? Because it felt a hell of a lot like a trap,” Egret said, his scowl deepening.
“Three watchers,” I said, replaying the scene. “I clocked one with a gun. Thomas thinks another was carrying, too.”
“All three had weapons,” Sparrow said. “I saw one flash his holster when he shifted. The guards on the platform had automatics.”
“It was a net,” Egret said. “And we walked into it.”
“Then why didn’t it close?” I asked.
“Because they were waiting for the fish, not the bait,” Egret said.
“You’re calling us the bait?” I asked.
Egret shrugged, more frustrated than confused. “We would’ve been had he showed. They knew we would be there, knew we were meeting him. They were fucking ready for us.”
“How?” I asked.
“How what?” Sparrow’s calmness clashed with Egret’s rage.
“How did they know we would be there? Lark, Shadowfox, and the four of us were the only people who knew when and where we were to meet. Where’s our leak?”
Thomas raised a palm. “You’re all assuming they were there for us and not the normal complement assigned to a station that flows into the West.” He drew in a breath. “Farkas never showed, so we looked like spooked travelers. Nothing more.”
“Or they were watching to see who we were waiting for,” Sparrow said.
“Then what?” Egret hissed. “What’s our play? What if they grabbed him hours ago? What if he’s already talking?”
“We proceed to Plan B. I’ll signal Lark. Tonight. If she knows anything, that can . . . keep us from having to go there . . .” Thomas’s voice trailed off as he ran a hand over his jaw. “Just be ready, okay?”
The silence that followed was painful.
We all knew what Plan B meant.
Sparrow’s posture shifted.
My eyes snapped up at a light scuffing, barely audible even beneath the deafening cloak of night. A darkened shape resolved into a familiar form as Thomas appeared. His coat collar was pulled high. One hand rested on the top button, the other deep in his pocket. His eyes bored into me as he approached.
“You clean?” he asked.
I nodded once, not trusting my voice to a whisper.
He motioned, and we stepped farther into the shadows, crouching low behind a brick half wall, hidden from the street. My hand lifted and touched his. The touch, however brief, chased a measure of darkness away. Thomas gave me a tight-lipped grin, as close to a smile as any mission allowed.
Two minutes passed.
Then five.
Footsteps echoed down the lane.
“Sparrow,” I whispered, recognizing the stride.
She rounded the corner a beat later, cheeks flushed, breathing fast. Egret wasn’t far behind her, muttering a string of colorful curses under his breath that carried on the night air.
“What the hell happened?” Egret snapped.
“We don’t know,” Thomas said.
“You mean they chickened out? Or they were picked up? Because it felt a hell of a lot like a trap,” Egret said, his scowl deepening.
“Three watchers,” I said, replaying the scene. “I clocked one with a gun. Thomas thinks another was carrying, too.”
“All three had weapons,” Sparrow said. “I saw one flash his holster when he shifted. The guards on the platform had automatics.”
“It was a net,” Egret said. “And we walked into it.”
“Then why didn’t it close?” I asked.
“Because they were waiting for the fish, not the bait,” Egret said.
“You’re calling us the bait?” I asked.
Egret shrugged, more frustrated than confused. “We would’ve been had he showed. They knew we would be there, knew we were meeting him. They were fucking ready for us.”
“How?” I asked.
“How what?” Sparrow’s calmness clashed with Egret’s rage.
“How did they know we would be there? Lark, Shadowfox, and the four of us were the only people who knew when and where we were to meet. Where’s our leak?”
Thomas raised a palm. “You’re all assuming they were there for us and not the normal complement assigned to a station that flows into the West.” He drew in a breath. “Farkas never showed, so we looked like spooked travelers. Nothing more.”
“Or they were watching to see who we were waiting for,” Sparrow said.
“Then what?” Egret hissed. “What’s our play? What if they grabbed him hours ago? What if he’s already talking?”
“We proceed to Plan B. I’ll signal Lark. Tonight. If she knows anything, that can . . . keep us from having to go there . . .” Thomas’s voice trailed off as he ran a hand over his jaw. “Just be ready, okay?”
The silence that followed was painful.
We all knew what Plan B meant.
Sparrow’s posture shifted.
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