The Child Thief Read online

  “Lower your guns and the children,” the woman shot back.

  “Only if you lower your guns,” Jackie retorted.

  I realized then what her plan was. Chances were, they hadn’t noticed the other items strapped to the belts around our waists, since the children’s bodies were obscuring them. Which gave us an advantage, because we had more weapons than just the guns.

  We all remained standing there, frozen, for several moments, waiting for either party to budge, and then, as if a switch had been flicked, we all began to bend simultaneously. I kept my eyes on the woman, while Jackie kept hers on the man. The four of us set our guns down on the floor, and then slowly, Jackie and I made to put down the children.

  The second she laid the little girl on the floor, however, Jackie launched upward. Her body became a blur of motion as she backflipped over me and the children and landed on another stair several feet above us. The next thing I knew, her foot was kicking the gun away from the woman. It fell through the cracks of the banister and landed on the ground floor with a loud clatter and a bang. The man instantly moved to pick up his gun again, but before he could fire it, Jackie had reached for the smoke bomb in her belt and released it, dowsing the entire stairwell with dense plumes of dark fog.

  I could tell, from her methods, that even now she was doing her best not to hurt the elders, but rather disable them, and I respected her for that.

  Coughing in the sudden deluge of smoke, I scrambled to gather the children, even as Jackie came rushing to me, gripping at my shoulder.

  “Go, go, go!” she hissed, before racing past me, down the stairs and toward the man.

  He was armed again, but there was no way he was going to start firing blindly in this smog—not with the children and his wife up here.

  I picked up both kids, holding each one against a hip and supporting them as best as I could with my shaking hands. I moved to follow on Jackie’s heels, though I could hardly see a foot in front of me, and couldn’t go as fast as I would’ve liked for fear of tripping and injuring the children.

  Jackie’s vague outline in front of me disappeared entirely when she lunged forward, and suddenly I heard a crash and a grunt somewhere to the right of the stairs, a little farther up the hallway. Then came a piercing gunshot. Fear pricked my spine, but I forced myself to press onward, knowing that more than one life rested in my hands. I rushed past the landing and then down the final staircase, praying that Jackie was okay.

  My heart nearly leapt out of my throat when I bumped into the tall, black-clad figure who emerged suddenly in front of me from the entrance hall.

  “Robin!” one of the twins gasped.

  The second twin appeared behind him a second later. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Jackie’s upstairs,” I breathed. “But be careful. There’s a guy up there with a gun.”

  Though I was praying that she had disarmed him by now.

  They gave me stiff nods, their breathing heavy, and then ran up the stairs into the dense fog, their guns held out in front of them. I raced across the entrance hall as fast as I could, then back along the hallway lined with photographs, and into the bathroom with the broken window. I grabbed a towel from a rack and set it down on the cold, hard marble floor, then lowered the little girl onto it, as I could only take one child through at a time.

  The boy’s head rested against my shoulder as I held him with one arm and used the other to maneuver myself over the windowsill. It took me longer than I was comfortable with, as my body was shaking from nerves, and I was terrified of dropping the child onto the hard cement path that ran directly outside the window or grazing him against the rough-cut glass.

  When I finally touched down on the other side, I left the boy on a patch of grass and raced back for the girl. I was halfway through the window when the bathroom door sprang open, and Jackie and the twins came bursting in at a sprint. I cried out in warning that the little girl was lying directly beneath the windowsill, as it was dark and they were moving so fast that I was terrified they might not notice her. They stopped just short of reaching her, and Jackie dipped down to scoop her up and hand her to me.

  As the young woman’s face moved beneath a shaft of moonlight, I realized that her mask had been ripped, laying half of her face bare for all to see—and that her skin bore a bleeding cut across the cheekbone.

  “Hurry!” she urged, before I could think to ask.

  I lifted the girl through to the yard and stepped back as the other three bundled out.

  “We gotta run!” one of the twins whispered, and I handed him the girl and rushed to pick up the boy. I could hear the angry bellows of the couple drifting through the broken window, followed by the distant sound of footsteps.

  We skirted around the house and raced across the backyard to where our zip lines awaited. My chest ached from how hard I was breathing as I attached myself to my line, and then, once everyone was secured, Jackie gave the order through her comm. “Pull us up!”

  The zip lines jerked instantly, and I clung both to the line and the little boy for dear life as the automatic winch reeled us up. We shot through the air at a frightening speed, exacerbated by the fact that Marco had already started raising the aircraft, and soon the large house was small beneath us, the trashcans in the street no bigger than ants.

  And then we disappeared into a dark patch of clouds, gone in the blink of an eye. Like the thieves in the night that we were.

  6

  Once the winch had finished pulling us up, we all stumbled into the airship, wheezing and gasping as we collapsed into seats. One of the twins hit the red button by the hatch and it glided closed, banishing the harsh wind and sealing us safely inside.

  Tearing off my mask, I leaned backward, my whole body still thrumming with adrenaline, and took a moment to just breathe. I kept the little boy close to my chest, holding him tight, not quite believing that our sedative had been good enough to have kept the kids under through all of that. It had to have been the choppiest ride I’d given a child so far, with so much stopping and starting, picking up and setting down—not to mention all that noise: the deafening siren, the gunshot, and the yelling, as well as the smoke bomb.

  I sighed, just feeling grateful that we’d all made it out alive.

  I chugged down the bottle of water that Abe handed me, then closed my eyes, needing silence and darkness to settle my mind and nerves, while I rested my cheek against the soft head of the infant. My limbs felt heavy, as did my eyelids, and I drifted into a blissful state of nothingness, allowing myself to imagine for just a few moments that it was my own child that I held in my arms.

  My chest ached at the thought, and I had to remind myself that one day, it would be. Just as soon as Nelson cracked those records.

  At least, for tonight, we had good news for one set of parents.

  It was a while before anyone spoke, as Marco continued to carry us away through the night. Then Abe, who was holding the girl on his lap, eventually broke the quiet. “Well, I take back my disingenuous comment.”

  I glanced at Jackie, expecting her to retort, only to find her staring off into the distance, tension written all over her face. I was reminded then of what had happened to her.

  “Hey,” I said softly. “You okay? What went on back there?”

  She turned reluctantly to look at me, revealing the side of her face that bore the cut, which she had patched up with a Band-Aid—though I could see a dark line of blood seeping through. The wound had to be pretty deep.

  She grimaced. “I disarmed him of the gun, but the crazy coot had stowed a pocket knife in his pajama pants.” She paused, swallowing. “He saw my face.”

  “You mean half of it,” I said, wanting to bring her a thread of comfort. I’d be just as worried if I were in her shoes. The thought of someone out there having even a vague idea of what you looked like was nerve-wracking, when you were part of a group whose mission statement was basically treason. And also when it was someone you’d just burgled.r />
  “Even so.”

  “Do you really think he got a proper look, though?” I asked, frowning. “Through all that dimness and smoke?”

  She sighed, but still looked annoyed. “I guess you’re right. It’s probably unlikely he got a good look. But it’s still a risk. And it could’ve been prevented.”

  “Hey,” I said, unable to stop myself from reaching out and squeezing her knee. “You did all that you could back there, okay?”

  She gave me a dark look. “No. I was being polite. I could have just knocked them out.”

  “Yeah, but that wouldn’t have been a very nice thing to do to Gramps and Grammy, would it?” Ant cut in.

  “Plus, you can’t just go knocking elderly people out without risking their lives. They’re fragile. Even the badass ones,” I added.

  She sighed, giving another grimace. “I guess,” she muttered.

  Nothing could change the fact that she’d exposed herself to risk, but I hoped what I’d said was true. There had been so much going on back there that I had to believe he couldn’t have seen her properly. And that everything would be fine.

  We passed the rest of the journey in silence, giving in to exhaustion and dozing off. Except for Jackie, who got on the comm with Nelson and filled her in on the details of what had happened. I was so tired, I didn’t absorb much of it—just enough to make out that the girl was still tense.

  Our arrival felt like it came too quickly, just as I was ready to drop off into a deep sleep. My mind and body were spent, but the thought of what awaited us on the ground was enough to perk me up. The reunion was always my favorite part of a mission.

  The kids were still deep under as the aircraft touched down in a small parking area around the back of the Foxtrot. Marco navigated it into a concealed garage, which belonged to the landlady, and which she let us use whenever we needed to. Then he opened the doors, and Abe and I slipped our masks back on, before climbing out first with the children. Already waiting for us in the opposite corner of the parking lot were a redheaded man and woman with large black suitcases sitting next to them and overcoats thrown over their clothes.

  A masked Nelson and Julia were standing on either side of them, but in that moment, I could barely spare a glance for my colleagues. My eyes were fixed on the parents’ faces, the way they lit up like sunshine, and then the way they burst into tears as they ran toward us to claim their children.

  They had no words at first, only deep, racking sobs as they clutched their children to their chests and sank to the floor, holding them as if their lives depended on it.

  We gave them a moment, and my heart both expanded and contracted, from the happiness and from the ache of longing. A tear slipped from my own eye at the sheer joy radiating off of them.

  Finally they stood, their eyes bloodshot but glistening with relief. “Thank you,” the woman choked out, pulling me into a hug with her free hand. She hugged the rest of my team as they bundled out of the aircraft—Jackie was wearing a makeshift mask she’d fashioned with her scarf—and the man did the same.

  And then it was time for them to leave. Once Nelson had made arrangements, there was a limited window of time in which her contact could help with the smuggling. Which meant this family had to get going, as it wasn’t a quick flight. Marco had a long night ahead of him still, though the earlier part of the mission hadn’t been nearly as stressful for him as it had been for us. I was sure he’d remembered to pack extra instant coffee in the cockpit. Knowing him, he had a jumbo pack of sugar cookies, too.

  He gestured for the couple to get into the ship with the kids, and we watched them climb aboard and back out of view into the interior, saying thank you again right before they disappeared.

  Then Nelson and Julia approached us. “Good job, guys. I’m proud of you for sticking with it,” Nelson said, patting us each on the shoulder. Her tone was encouraging, though there was a flicker of worry in her eyes—over Jackie’s torn mask, no doubt. I sensed that she wasn’t going to bring it up now, though, with all of us looking so exhausted.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Ant replied with a yawn.

  His yawn infected the rest of us, and I closed my eyes as one overtook me. I wasn’t looking forward to the motorcycle journey home, but I’d manage it. Tomorrow (or today, rather) was a Sunday, so at least I didn’t have to get up for work in a few hours.

  “There’s just one thing before I leave you,” Nelson added, glancing between us.

  I raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  She wet her lower lip, casting a fleeting glance toward the waiting aircraft and then back to the four of us again. “I was contacted by an OH admin this evening. He… or she… said they want a meeting with us.”

  We all frowned at her, confused. I’d never heard of an admin reaching out to members of Operation Hood’s portal like that. The team of admins were renowned for being cagey and aloof, and for good reason, given that they ran a criminal network. Besides, they were just facilitators, stepping in to moderate on forums occasionally, but never getting directly involved with individual members or groups that operated on there.

  “What about?” Jackie asked.

  Nelson shrugged. “They didn’t give me any details. Just said they wanted to meet in person. At Mullen Bridge, tomorrow at 8:00 p.m. I guess they must have analyzed my history on the platform and the reviews I’ve received from our clients, and figured they could trust me. Enough to meet at a random location, anyway. Julia and I are planning to go to see what’s up. Any of you want to come with us?”

  “I’ll come,” I replied immediately. My curiosity was piqued, to say the least, and if this person was an admin, I figured they were unlikely to pose a threat to us. Granted, I guessed none of us actually knew who ran Operation Hood. For all we knew, it could be some grand setup by the government to catch criminals like us. But given that the network had been operating for over six years and was only growing in the number of people that joined, plus the illegal conversations and operations that took place there on a daily basis, I doubted it. There could very well be moles signed up for OH, but I just couldn’t see the government facilitating a platform like that for so long.

  “Which admin is this?” Abe asked.

  “Mr. X,” Nelson replied with a smirk. “His profile name is the same as his handle. I guess it could be a girl, though. I’ve seen their comments around on the forums before, but never had any direct engagement with them.”

  “I’ll come too,” Jackie said after a beat, the traces of sullenness from the situation with her ripped mask giving way to intrigue.

  We all looked to the twins, who gave us an apologetic look. “Ah, sorry.” Ant sighed. “We got… family commitments tomorrow night.”

  “Girlfriend commitments,” Abe coughed, and Jackie scoffed.

  “In your dreams,” she muttered.

  Before either twin could retort, Nelson clapped Jackie and me on the back. “Okay. It’s just you two, me, and Julia then,” she said. “And Marco, if he wants to come, but I’m pretty sure he’ll want a day off tomorrow, too. We’ll report back to the boys on how it goes. And let’s touch base in the morning to discuss travel arrangements to the bridge, yeah?”

  Jackie and I nodded.

  “All right.” She headed with Julia up the aircraft’s ramp but paused when she reached the top. “Sleep well,” she said with a smile.

  “Good luck,” we replied, and she turned and disappeared inside.

  The four of us ambled away from the private parking area, back toward the front of the pub, where I’d left my motorcycle. We wished each other a good night’s sleep, too, once we reached the pub’s entrance, and then headed our separate ways.

  I, for one, knew I would sleep well tonight.

  7

  Nelson got in touch with me at noon the next day. She suggested that we all meet at her office at 6:00 p.m., and that we travel via public transport to the bridge. It was located right in the heart of Samsfield, a town that was notorious for getting cr
owded on a Sunday evening, and where road traffic could be nightmarish.

  So, after a day of mostly lounging around in my pajamas and resting, I headed off on my motorcycle.

  My first destination was Nelson’s office, which was located in a small industrial town that took me about an hour to reach from my cabin. Her space sat at the top of a grocery corner store on a quiet, inconspicuous, working-class street on the outskirts of the town. I parked in a public parking lot about half a mile from it and walked the rest of the block. Nelson was apparently friends, or at least close acquaintances, with the grocery store owner, who let her use the room upstairs as her temporary workspace. I didn’t know where she actually lived, but this was where she kept her equipment safe at least some of the time. I had visited twice before, when I rode along with her to a mission.

  Reaching her door at the top of the narrow stairwell that wound up the exterior of the building, I performed our signature knock: three quick ones, followed by a pause, and then another three quick ones. She answered it thirty seconds later, wearing a pair of baggy gray jogging pants and a loose yellow t-shirt. Her curly hair was swept up into a messy bun, and her glasses rested slightly askew on her nose, as she allowed me into the small, crowded room.

  I could tell she’d spent the night here; her black backpack was resting on the narrow sofa, which was also strewn with a set of pajamas and a toiletry bag. The shadows under her eyes told me she hadn’t gotten much sleep, though her eyes themselves were shiny. One sweep of the collection of cups on her work desk told me she was buzzed on coffee.

  “Sorry I’m a bit early,” I said, realizing I was the first one here.

  “No problem,” she said, pulling up a chair for me.

  “Everything go okay last night?” I asked.

  She nodded cryptically, giving me a wry smile. “Yup. One less family waking up in America this morning.”

  “Good,” I murmured. I would have loved to know the details about how they actually pulled the smuggling off, but I knew she would’ve shared the information by now if she wanted to. Instead, it was a task she chose to handle personally, perhaps even at the request of whoever her contact was.