Deep Shadows

  I put that on the list of things to worry about if we actually got through the raid alive.

  I’d asked Zion, when I saw him, whether we could count on help from our mysterious friends in black, and I’d even tried to make it a joke, having remembered Jace’s warning at the last minute.

  All I got in response was a cold, hard glare. It had been enough to make me close my mouth and designate that as another item for my list of things to worry about later.

  Then, late Thursday afternoon, Zion confirmed that we were going to be running the mission early. At midnight that night, it turned out.

  Which was how we found ourselves, Thursday night at midnight—and about twelve hours early—staring at the gate of the Authority building.

  I didn’t think I was the only one who felt horribly unprepared.

  Zion had told us point blank that there were two reasons: the element of surprise, and the element of darkness affording us better security. It had sounded like a good idea at the time, or at least like a doable idea, but now that we were here, I was seriously questioning our sanity.

  We were ducked down in a dark corner, barely daring to breathe, and waiting for a signal from Nathan, which we’d been told we would recognize when it came. Some sort of large-scale distraction. Cloyd hadn’t exactly been forthcoming when he’d ducked into our meeting earlier in the day and spent exactly three minutes giving us information, before disappearing again. No one had heard from him since then.

  I supposed there was a good reason for his not having told us—perhaps he and Nathan hadn’t figured out the logistics yet?—but I wished he’d been in touch.

  “Who the hell thought a decoy was a good idea, anyhow?” I whispered, remembering what Cloyd had snapped at us during his short appearance. He and Nathan had come up with a plan, he’d said. A decoy, so that we would have an easier time getting into the prison.

  Hopefully without having to fight any Authority soldiers in the process, since, although we’d come armed with guns and a few extra toys from Nathan, I didn’t think we had anything that could compare to what the Authority would have.

  “It makes sense if you think about it,” Jace whispered back. He wiggled one set of fingers, then said, “Make them look here…” He wiggled the fingers on his other hand. “While you’re doing something over here… I just don’t know whether there’s going to be any decoy big enough to distract them from what we’re about to do.”

  I exhaled. We wanted the place to be clear of soldiers, including anyone who might be guarding the gate, because we didn’t have a good way in, and though we had a cover story, it wasn’t a good cover story.

  It also didn’t come with good disguises. I gave Jace a wary look and shook my head. He was wearing a blue jumpsuit meant to resemble the suits we’d seen on the Authority soldiers in Voceville, but I didn’t think the resemblance was nearly strong enough.

  The idea about the disguises hadn’t done anything to reassure me when Zion first presented it, and it certainly didn’t make me feel any better right now, when we were staring up at the building we were supposed to break into, the large label of COMPLIANCE AUTHORITY marching across the front. At the end, right after the Y, was a logo I’d never seen before—a stylized, gothic X, stark and black against the white of the building. It featured the same serpent as the Ministry’s symbol, but was twice as creepy.

  I glanced to the left and then the right of me, noted Jace’s tense, pale face and Jackie’s frightened one, and tried to get hold of my thoughts. Everything will be fine, Robin, I told myself firmly, doing my best to believe it.

  We were moving with a smaller team this time, for better speed, and only Jace, Jackie, Ant, Zion, Alexy, and I had come. We’d arrived late at night for cover, but, although it was midnight, I felt it wasn’t nearly dark enough. There were streetlights everywhere, along with security lights on the buildings around us—and I was starting to worry. How secure were we really going to be when anyone who was looking would be able to see us running across the street and (somehow) getting through the gate ahead of us?

  Still, that was the plan we’d come up with. From here, we were meant to be posing as a group that had just been arrested, with Jace and Zion claiming to be the arresting officers. We didn’t know what the Authority generally arrested people for, but we knew from experience that they did indeed arrest people. The details of our cover story were that we were members of the same group that had raided the warehouse (true, as it were), and that Jace and Zion had caught us on the streets of Voceville as we were trying to scout out one of our friends who had come under suspicion.

  It was close enough to the truth that we could all keep our story straight if any of us were questioned, and I’d always been told that the secret to a successful lie was to stick as close to the truth as possible.

  A part of me hoped that we didn’t get to that point, that Nathan’s decoy would eliminate the need for our cover story by clearing the area of all soldiers, so we could walk right through the front gate. But I feared it was a fool’s hope.

  Things weren’t going to be that simple.

  To top everything off, we weren’t even wearing the powerful suits we’d had for the last raid. We had decided against them at the last minute, deeming them too bulky and indiscreet for this sort of operation. Instead, we were wearing a different kind of suit—courtesy of one of Alexy’s military contacts—made of incredibly fine black chainmail, which hugged our bodies beneath our clothes like a second skin. We’d spent about an hour getting used to them earlier in the day, though they didn’t really require much practice. They were weird, since they were made of metal and yet fit like fabric, but they were easy to move in and also came with extended hoods that we could pull up over our heads and down over our faces, as well as free-standing gloves, which we’d all shoved into our pockets. Much more convenient than the larger suits, but certainly not perfect. Alexy had told us that they would shelter us from sudden changes in temperature, and the extended hoods had filtration systems over the mouths, to protect us from gases. But she couldn’t vouch for how effective they would be against bullets. They might slow, but almost certainly wouldn’t stop, any projectiles.

  It didn’t exactly make me feel any better about just standing around on a corner, waiting to raid a Ministry building where we were bound to be faced with guards who had guns.

  But it was better than nothing. We would be safe from noxious fumes, and we had masks that were actually built into the suits, courtesy of the pulldown hoods, plus the chance of slowing bullets down.

  Hopefully we wouldn’t have to put them to use at all. If what Nathan had planned worked, and if he actually knew as much about how the government operated as he’d said he did, there would be fewer guards to shoot at us.

  “How sure are you that Nathan knows what he’s talking about?” I breathed toward Jace. “Do you think he’s actually going to be able to pull this off?”

  He gave me a quick glance and then turned back to the building in front of us. “I know that he wants to get us in there so that we can rescue our people,” he replied, his voice just as quiet. “And I know that he has resources beyond what we can imagine. I’m guessing—hoping—that he knows what he’s doing. And that it works.”

  “I still think it’s awfully convenient for him that we’re the ones putting our lives on the line here, and not him,” Jackie murmured.

  I noticed her hands clenching and unclenching, and wondered at that. I’d never picked up on any nervous tics from her when we were running missions to rescue children, but going up against the government seemed to have brought out her more vulnerable side.

  I was just opening my mouth to ask another question when a sudden explosion rocked the city from somewhere on our left. The sky lit up with flames, and a wave of heat wafted over us.

  Wherever the explosion had gone off, it was close enough that we could actually feel it—though I realized that I could only feel it on my face and hands. Which meant the second-skin s
uits worked, at least temperature-wise.

  Good to know.

  We dropped to our knees and put our arms up to shield ourselves, and I had barely gotten my thoughts back together when another explosion sounded off from our right. This one was farther away, but we threw ourselves flat on the ground and covered our heads instinctively.

  My eyes then flew up to the building in front of us, and I noticed the rest of my team looking as well. If those explosions were what I thought they were—Nathan’s “decoy”—then that building should start clearing out soon. At least, somewhat.

  One final explosion sounded off from somewhere behind us, smaller this time, and at this, someone finally spoke.

  “When Nathan says distraction, I guess he really means distraction,” Ant murmured, and I could hear the grudging admiration in his voice.

  No one answered, and a second later two rows of Authority guards, all of them wearing blue uniforms and helmets with visors—and carrying what looked like machine guns—ran out of the compound in front of us. They turned right as if they’d practiced it a million times and dashed down the road in the direction of the first explosion. Not ten seconds later, a second group of soldiers appeared and turned left.

  Then came a third group, which headed directly for us.

  We scrambled backward into the alley we’d identified earlier as a possible hiding spot, and stopped breathing as they hammered past us.

  We stood there, flush against the wall and staring at the opening of the alley for several seconds. I didn’t know about the others, but my mind felt completely frozen.

  There was certainly no guarantee that had been all the soldiers leaving the compound, but it sure looked like Cloyd might have known what he was talking about during his appearance at our meeting, when he said that the government had specific rules regarding large-scale disruptions in cities.

  “They usually assume that anything that happens is an attack on them,” he’d said bluntly. “So if something big happens, they roll out a big force to address it. If we cause a big enough commotion, it will draw a number of the soldiers out, and that will be your chance to get in.”

  “Why would they clear out so many soldiers?” I had asked. It hadn’t made sense to me at the time, because although the Authority might have that policy, they would surely see the stunt as the decoy it was, given the situation—and the prisoners they were holding in that compound.

  “They might find it fishy,” Cloyd had replied. “But they also know that there are organizations fighting against them now. If they’re as paranoid as we think they are, they’ll assume that those organizations are bigger than they realized and are responsible for the chaos. They’ll want to get to the sites in question to see if they can catch us.” He’d given Jace a grin at that point, all cocky confidence, but I hadn’t missed the fact that he’d been vague in certain places.

  “It’s those other government buildings,” Jace murmured. “Nathan’s hit them. That’s why Cl—I mean, Boyd was so sure it would draw so many soldiers out. It’s not just about random chaos. It’s about specific, targeted chaos. If they think we’re attacking them, but that we’ve got the wrong buildings…”

  “They’re sending their soldiers to defend the other government buildings,” I finished, realization dawning. Of course. We’d told the rest of the group everything when we saw them after our fieldtrips to the libraries—including the fact that there were other government buildings in Voceville. And that they were far too small to house the prison, but that they’d very obviously belonged to the government, given their labels.

  Cloyd had disappeared right after we’d said that, and then reappeared with his plan. They’d known what they were doing the whole time. They must have, to have believed so firmly that it would work. So why hadn’t they told us?

  Plausible deniability, my brain told me quickly. Nathan had to know that there was a chance we’d be captured during this jailbreak. And if we were, we couldn’t know anything about an attack. Knowing about it would have put us in even greater danger.

  I hated being a part of anything so complicated. I hated it.

  Then a digitized voice suddenly came over our comms. “I hope to hell you guys aren’t just standing around staring,” it said. “You’ve got your distraction. Now get in there and get our people out.”

  “Who the hell is giving us instructions now?” I hissed, wondering for a terrifying moment whether we’d somehow been hacked by the Authority again—whether they were trying to lure us right to our deaths!

  “That’s Nathan,” Jace said calmly, cutting through my panic. “I’d recognize the cadence anywhere. Looks like there’s even more personal interest in this mission than I’d realized. Let’s go.”

  After a surprised pause—Nathan was actually talking to us directly?—we all dropped into the formation we’d already agreed upon: Zion at the front, Jace at the back, and the rest of us grouped in the middle, as if we were real prisoners. We had to put on this façade now in case there were guards looking in our direction at the gate.

  Though, I prayed we would escape their notice.

  We began marching toward the compound, Nathan’s digitized voice in our ears, telling us to walk normally rather than sneaking, and for those of us playing captives to try to act like we’d just been caught doing something monumentally stupid.

  Somehow, I didn’t find that difficult.

  When we reached the wall that surrounded the compound, though, everything changed. It seemed that we’d managed to make it without being spotted, and slithered quickly up against the wall. We pressed our backs to it, barely daring to breathe, while Zion began creeping toward the gate.

  I watched him out of the corner of my eye, too scared to turn my head. He crouched low, moving at about one hundredth of an inch per second, the blue of his disguise turning to black as he moved into the shadows.

  If there were guards still at the gate, they were about to see him. In which case we’d be running for our lives, right from the start of our so-called rescue mission.

  Zion’s hand crept up behind his back, and he slowly folded his fingers until only two remained extended.

  Two guards, no doubt, in the guard’s booth that we’d specked out earlier on a casual stroll through the city. The fingers folded up, and a moment later, three extended back up, bent, and then extended again.

  Okay. Two guards in the booth. Three guards somewhere else, and then three more guards somewhere else. The latter six were probably stationed near the main entrance.

  When Cloyd had first brought us the plan, and his idea that any government soldiers—even those guarding prisons—had standing orders to react with force to chaos within the immediate area, Jace and Zion had both pointed out that there were real live prisoners in this compound. It wasn’t just an empty building. What sort of responsible government would just leave all the prisoners alone?

  It looked like Jace and Zion had been right, which meant it was time for plan B. Even if we’d wanted to use our cover story and disguises, there was no way we’d get past that many soldiers. No way that many people would be naïve enough to believe our cover story. Especially given the fact that Jace and Zion weren’t even wearing proper uniforms.

  “The other entry, then,” Jace breathed from behind me. “We’re not getting in through the front gate.”

  We all turned on a dime, taking care not to make any noise as we balanced on our toes, and began swiftly moving down the sidewalk away from the gate, Jace now in the lead and Zion bringing up the rear.

  Thanks to Jace, Zion, and Ant checking out the compound earlier, we’d gained some very important—and hopefully useful—information about the building.

  It had very quickly become our plan B, and though we hadn’t really wanted to use it, now that there were soldiers standing between us and our plan A—walk right through the front gate—I prayed we’d be able to do what we had in mind.

  “Masks on!” Jace commanded, and we all reached back, tugged the ho
ods out of our collars, and pulled them over our heads to form masks. The gloves followed, so that we wouldn’t leave fingerprints.

  A full city block of crouched running through the semi-darkness, and then a sharp right turn up an alleyway that ran right into the compound itself, brought us to a dead end.

  And a gate fixed into the wall.

  The area surrounding the gate was littered with a combination of trash and rotting garbage, and I tried very hard not to breathe in while Jace bent toward the lock on the gate and got to work. The rest of us stuck to the shadows against the walls, praying that any cameras in the alley were currently not being monitored.

  Jace cursed at the lock, drawing my focus to him.

  “What’s the problem?” I breathed, every muscle in my body taut with tension.

  “Not. Working,” he grated out between clenched teeth. “This lock isn’t responding to the tool. It’s… wrong, somehow.” He drew back and glared at the specialized lockpicker we’d brought along—the same one Jackie and I had used during our missions for Nelson—but just as he was leaning forward to try again, Zion grabbed his shoulder and pushed him to one side.

  “My God, boy, just let me do it,” he breathed. “I’m probably better with that thing than you are.”

  He bent to the lock, his face all business, and went to work, turning and shoving at the contraption like he was going to open it with pure power.

  Thirty seconds later, however, he was also staring at the lock in confused frustration.

  “Oh my God, we’re going to get caught right here in the alley before we even get in,” Jackie hissed from behind me. “This is going to be so embarrassing.”

  I didn’t take the time to respond. My eyes were already scanning the alley and its walls, looking desperately at all the cameras. If they were watching us right now…

  I was distracted by sudden movement at the gate and turned my eyes just in time to see Jace elbowing Zion out of the way again.

  “Just let me at it,” he grunted. “I’ll do it the old-fashioned way.”