Chapter 28. Heist

  Shugga knocked on Jeremiah’s door towards the end of his first day as a Stonefist. “Look sharp, Monty’s coming ‘round with a new job for us.”

  Jeremiah dressed and hurried downstairs. His three new cell mates were already gathered. Sweet Melissa was counting lengths of silken rope, sitting on Dronkal’s back while the half-orc did one-armed pushups. Shugga sat quietly on the sofa, his elbows on his knees and his head bowed.

  “So, uh,” Jeremiah said to announce his presence.

  Sweet Melissa gave Jeremiah a huge smile. “Good morning, sunshine! You must have impressed Monty an awful lot for him to be giving us a job right away.”

  Dronkal grunted. “Or he’s trying to make you fail out early.”

  Jeremiah had his suspicions as to which guess was correct. “Any idea what the job is?”

  As though in answer to his question, a complex rhythm rapped at the door. Sweet Melissa chirruped with excitement, and skipped to answer it.

  Monty, wore a pitch black tunic and pants. He strode into the room as though he owned the place—Jeremiah supposed he did, actually—and addressed the room. “I’ll cut right to the chase. A few blocks up from here is a stash house for the Blackshades. They’ve got a shipment of Dismal set to be distributed and released tomorrow. I want it stolen.

  “Joining us, boss?” asked Shugga, raising a brow at Monty’s outfit.

  “I am,” said Monty.

  “Really?” said Jeremiah. “It’s awful nice of you to look after me on my first job.”

  Monty looked to Jeremiah directly. “I’m here because you don’t make any sense. You claim to be the best second story man in Shabad, you complete a burglary of a target you’ve never seen in less than an hour, then you get fleeced by Pete right outside my door. So you’re lying, but you maybe still know what you’re on about. Tough for me to suss. Saves me a lot of trouble if you just fail or die.”

  Monty grinned at the look on Jeremiah’s face. “You know your letters and your numbers?”

  “I do,” said Jeremiah.

  “See?” Monty said to the other cell members. “I’m telling you, he doesn’t add up.”

  “We’ve all got secrets,” said Shugga. “I don’t care if he’s a prince, so long as he does his job and lets me do mine.”

  “He suits me just dandy,” said Sweet Melissa.

  “Anyway, what’s the play?” said Dronkal.

  It took Jeremiah a moment to realize they were all looking at him, waiting for him to speak. “The play? What do you mean?”

  “You’re the Slip,” said Shugga, “this is a Slip’s job. You want us to wait here? Somewhere else? Help scout?”

  “Monty too?” asked Jeremiah. With all of one robbery under his belt, he did not feel ready for this.

  “I want to see you in action for myself,” said Monty.

  “Oh….kay!” said Jeremiah. He tried to imagine how Allison would handle the situation. “This is officially an operation!”

  “I’m thinking he’s military. Or a spy. Something government related,” Monty said.

  Jeremiah turned to Monty. “So are you actually good at anything? What do I do with you?” he couldn’t let Monty get away with just blatantly harassing him in front of his new cell.

  “I can do anything you need me to do, better than anyone else here,” said Monty matter-of-factly.

  He registered no reaction from his cell mates at Monty’s claim, so he suspected the dwarf wasn’t exaggerating. “Alright, first things first is I gotta case the place. Melissa, I want you on close support. Give me space to work, but be ready to come if I call you.”

  That prompted a big smile from Melissa. “‘Yes sir!”

  “The rest of you fan out. Make your own way to the target, then get a vantage point to keep watch. Monty, you’re up high. Shugga, Dronkal, you’re backup in case things go south. Keep an ear out, but don’t draw attention. After I’ve had eyes on the situation, meet back here and I’ll let you know how we’re gonna nab the goods.”

  “Blades out?” asked Melissa.

  “I-”

  “No killing unless absolutely necessary,” said Monty.

  Jeremiah raised his eyebrows. “Is this my operation or not?”

  “It’s your ‘operation’, and I am the leader of Stonefists, which is my operation,” said Monty.

  Jeremiah tried to think of a comeback, but couldn’t fault the logic. “Well, everyone be armed, anyway.”

  “And you?” asked Monty. “You don’t have a weapon.”

  “I…guess I don’t,” said Jeremiah. How had he missed that? He was so used to being able to cast magic, he hadn’t even considered that someone in his position should carry a weapon.

  “That is just so pure,” said Melissa.

  Monty plucked a butter knife off the table, one that would struggle against butter, and handed in to Jeremiah. “Careful, it’s sharp.” Shugga and Dronkal snickered.

  “Alright, shut it!” Jeremiah barked, tucking the knife away. “Everyone, meet back here in thirty. Melissa, let’s go.”

  “Yes sir!” said Sweet Melissa. She opened the door and bounded down the stairs. Then she poked her head back up. “Mmm, ‘sir’. I like the sound of that. You gonna get me in that trouble-bad, Jay.” She bit her lip and batted her eyelashes at him before slipping away again.

  Jeremiah turned to follow when Dronkal caught his eye. The half-orc’s eyes were wide. He glanced towards the door then gave the tiniest shake of his head. The entire gesture took a fraction of a second, practically instantaneous, but the warning was clear enough that Jeremiah couldn’t pretend he hadn’t seen it.

  Do not touch the crazy.

  ?

  Sweet Melissa led Jeremiah through the slums towards the Blackshades’ stash house. “Alone at last,” she said.

  Now that he was looking for it, there was something unmistakably predatory about the gnome, something that made the hairs on his arms stand on end. “Is it normal for Monty to join you guys?” he asked, trying to divert the conversation back to business.

  “Nope.” Sweet Melissa started weaving close to Jeremiah. “He’s taken a liking to you.”

  “That’s what a liking looks like?” said Jeremiah. “I’d hate to get on his bad side.”

  “Okay, more like an interest. Monty is a very busy man. It’s not unprecedented that he’s taking the time to monitor you personally, but… well, the people he’s interested in either go far or die quickly.”

  “Do they die because Monty kills them?” asked Jeremiah.

  “Him or me,” said Sweet Melissa. “I sure do hope it’s me,” she finished coquettishly.

  Jeremiah suppressed a shudder. “Is that the place?” They had come into view of an ugly squat building. The second floor had long since collapsed, but the bottom endured. for now. All the windows Jeremiah could see were boarded up, with candlelight peeking through the gaps.

  “That’s the one,” said Sweet Melissa.

  “Alright, keep an eye out in that rubble there. Shout if something seems wrong, but don’t leave. I need to know where to run to if I have to,” said Jeremiah. He’d much rather put her between himself and danger than rely on losing pursuers.

  “Remember, don’t run to me, run past me,” said Sweet Melissa. And don’t touch any ropes.” She began looping out lengths of ropes from her belt, where Jeremiah realized she had dozens of varying lengths of tight cord. She climbed into the rubble of a building that Jeremiah had pointed out, leaving him alone in the shadows.

  Jeremiah could hear Bruno from their lessons. “You remember what to do first?”

  “First we case,” thought Jeremiah.

  Very slowly and keeping his distance, Jeremiah began to orbit the building, looking for any points of entry besides the front door. There were no sentries, likely to avoid standing out. “ Could hop up to the second floor, see if there’s a hole .”

  “You could. Walk me through what would happen,” said Bruno.

  “I get up. Likely make a bunch of noise. Stands out, no reason for anyone to be up there. Probably isn’t structurally sound, either. No go.”

  “Correct. Good.”

  Despite just being in his imagination, Jeremiah felt smart having avoided a mistake. He continued his deliberate loop of the building, listening closely.

  He caught a hint of a voice from inside. “ Nothing the candle didn’t tell us. ”

  “No?” said Bruno. “I find most times when there’s a speaker, there’s a-”

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  “Listener, right. So more than one person.”

  “We’re a good distance away, and you haven’t heard anything else,” said Bruno.

  “A shout. Or an exclamation. It was louder than anything else if they’re talking,” said Jeremiah.

  “You often shout at your friends when it’s just the two of you?” asked Bruno.

  “No. Someone got excited…there’s an audience,” said Jeremiah.

  “Atta boy,” whispered Bruno.

  “Windows are all boarded. Roof is a mess. Front door is…likely the front door. How do I get in?” He considered setting the building on fire, but decided it would likely burn whatever he was supposed to take. Rats were an option, one that he was a little too excited for.

  “There’s always an excuse,” said Allison

  Jeremiah noticed an oddity. Part of one window near ground level allowed hardly any light at all. He took a chance and darted close.

  Huddled in the shadow of the building, Jeremiah tried to squint between the wood boards, but they were pressed too tightly against one another to allow it. The shadow was still being cast against the window, unmoving. Something large and stationary was inside.

  Jeremiah considered his options. A crowbar would allow him to break a board, but that would be far too loud. Unless…

  He pulled out the table knife. Scraping with his enchanting tools would be too noisy, but if he pressed the blade of the knife into the wood, perhaps he could indent the surface just enough.

  Over many painstaking minutes, he imparted the runes Gently Decay into the surface of the largest board. The lines of the diagram were of uneven depth, their alignments imprecise. Thurok would be ashamed.

  “ I am ashamed ,” said Thurok.

  But as far as he could tell, the enchantment was complete. Jeremiah whispered the magic words to empower the diagram. The runes glowed, and sizzling sound emanated from within the wood, like thousands of tiny bubbles popping. Shameful or not, the enchantment was working.

  Jeremiah pressed his fingers into the wood. It came away in his hands like a repulsive clay, but it was silent and most importantly, he soon had a hole that would be large enough to squeeze through.

  The light was being blocked by what looked like a stack of crates. For a wild moment, Jeremiah dared to hope they contained the Dismal he was after, whatever that was, but he soon realized they were empty. Putting his hands against the bottom-most crate, he pushed the entire stack a fraction of a fraction of an inch.

  Jeremiah held his breath. He heard no break in the murmur of conversation inside, so he risked another push. And another.

  Eventually the crates had been moved enough that Jeremiah Jeremiah wiggled his way inside. Flat between the wall and the crates, Jeremiah took shallow breaths. The position reminded him all too much of waiting behind the vault door for the golem to find him. He shook the memory and stepped carefully towards the edge of the crate tower to see into the room.

  The stash house was a large, plain room. In the center of the room was a cardtable, where seven people were hunched over their hands. Beneath the table was a chest, this one sporting a large padlock. His target was sighted.

  Jeremiah studied the load-outs of the card players. Two of them wore metal breastplates and had greatswords on their hips. The rest were lightly armored with knives, no serious threat besides their number. Even so, altogether they made a formidable group. There was no way he’d be able to just sneak off with the chest.

  He slipped back outside, no one the wiser, and recollected Sweet Melissa. A short walk later, they reconvened back at the house and Jeremiah described what he had seen, saying the hole in the wall was a happy coincidence.

  “So, what’s the plan then?” asked Dronkal. “You’re saying you can’t filch it?”

  Jeremiah shook his head. How to put this delicately? “I think this situation calls for a smash and grab.”

  “We’re outnumbered, out armed, and out armored, and you want to turn it into a fight?” asked Sweet Melissa. She sounded more impressed than anything.

  “I think we can even the odds and take them by surprise,” said Jeremiah. “They’re not on guard, they’re just hanging around. They’re not ready for an attack, much less one that comes from inside the building.”

  Shugga and Dronkal exchanged a look, concern mirrored on their features. “I’m not liking there being greatswords in that room,” said Shugga, “that’s real hardware.”

  “Look, guys—Monty, do you think you could take two unarmored humans in a fight?” asked Jeremiah.

  “Yes,” said Monty.

  “And Sweet Melissa, can you make a rope snare?”

  “Absolutely,” said Melissa. Her hands dropped to the ropes, her fingers flicked, and there was a small looping knot in the cord.

  Jeremiah nodded. “We knock and snare one of the armored guys at the door. They’ll be the ones answering, it’s their job. At the same time, we attack from inside, full rush, don’t even let the others out of their chairs. If we strike hard and fast, we can overwhelm them. At the very least, I can snatch the box and run if it turns into a fair fight.”

  They all looked to Monty.

  “You go first,” Monty said to Jeremiah, “and you leave last. You try to deviate from that, I’ll kill you myself.”

  Leading the charge was definitely not part of Jeremiah’s skill set, but it would have to do. “Deal. Sweet Melissa, get your snare up. Everyone else, follow me.”

  ?

  The four of them, minus Sweet Melissa, waited in the shadows beside Jeremiah’s ingress point. Jeremiah saw Monty run one of his massive fingers along the edge of the board where the enchanted wood had come away. The dwarf scowled, but didn’t say anything.

  Jeremiah started when Melissa crept up on them.

  “Trap is set,” she whispered, “but I need to set it off manually. I’ll rush in the front door while you rush in the back.”

  “Non-lethal,” said Monty.

  “Boss, you can’t be serious,” said Sweet Melissa.

  “They’ve got real steel in there,” said Shugga.

  “Not worth starting a war with the Blackshades over Dismal, no matter how much they have,” said Monty. “You can kill the armored ones, they’re outside muscle. But no one else. If they want to run, you let them run.”

  “We’ll get in position,” Jeremiah said. “We go on your signal.”

  Jeremiah slipped back through the hole in the wall. There wasn’t room for all of them, so the others would break through as soon as they’d gone loud. Jeremiah hoped they would, at least. Charging the card table alone would be a nasty way to learn Monty was sick of him already. His heart raced with the promise of an imminent fight.

  BANG BANG BANG.

  Jeremiah heard the men at the card table jump as someone pounded on the door.

  “Go see who it is, we ain’t expecting nobody for another few hours” said a voice.

  “Probably Dondinger, I seen that halfling scum sneaking around lately.”

  There was a long silence.

  “Well? Go earn your pay!”

  Someone grumbled and they heard a chair moving, and the sound of a sword being unsheathed. One of the mercenaries.

  Shugga reached through the hole and pried the table knife out of Jeremiah’s hand. Jeremiah looked down to see the handle of a proper dagger pressed into his palm. He smiled his thanks to Shugga. The weapon failed to make him feel any safer.

  “What are you going to do?” asked Allison.

  “Scream. Charge. Try not to die,” thought Jeremiah.

  “War cries are for warriors. Why don’t you stick with the advantage you have?,” said Allison.

  “Silent charge,” Jeremiah whispered over his shoulder. He heard Shugga pass the word back.

  Allison voice continued. “You’re going first, and the most dangerous man in that room has a breastplate and broadsword. Can you kill him?”

  “Almost certainly not,” thought Jeremiah.

  “Can you take him out of the fight long enough for the others to help?”

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  The front door opened. “Hey! You touch this door again and I’ll cut you from stem to—HUAAH!”

  Without a word Jeremiah slipped from behind the crates and sprinted into the room, hopeful the others were following. He made no noise besides footsteps to draw the attention of the five men wondering what had just happened at the door. They didn’t see Jeremiah coming.

  The armored mercenary was getting to his feet, one hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword. He looked up just in time to see Jeremiah leaping across the table towards him.

  Jeremiah collided with the merc’s breastplate and they both toppled over the chair. Jeremiah wrapped the man’s sword arm up in a tight embrace, then clung for dear life. The merc was big, but he wasn’t strong enough to lift Jeremiah with one arm, and the sword they were so concerned about was now out of reach.

  The lights dimmed as someone struck Jeremiah in the side of the head. Then there were shouts and thuds and grunts of pain all around him. The Stonefists had arrived.

  Jeremiah chanced a glance up. Shugga and Dronkal were shoulder to shoulder, raining truncheon blows on three of the unarmored gang members, attacking and defending each other without impeding each other in an elegant and brutal dance. Monty had one huge forearm wrapped around the fourth man’s neck and was gripping the face of another, his huge hands easily finding purchase on the man’s jaw and throat. “Shhh, shhh,” murmured Monty as he quietly strangled them both.

  “Get off, you little shit!” The merc rolled on top of Jeremiah, still clinging to his arm, and began raining blows down on him. Jeremiah tried to bury his head beneath the merc’s armored shoulder and willed himself to hold on.

  “Haawooooooo!” Sweet Melissa leapt onto the table, rapier drawn and lasso twirling. She flicked it over the head of the mercenary grappling Jeremiah and yanked. The man gagged as the lasso cinched around his throat, his eyes popping.

  Sweet Melissa pulled the merc upward. Jeremiah let him go, too addled to keep his grip, and lay on the floor in a daze. He was aware of some violence being enacted upon the merc, then the man joined his comrades in unconsciousness.

  Monty appeared above Jeremiah and hauled him to his feet. The dwarf’s hand engulfed Jeremiah’s. “Grab the chest and the sword,” Monty said. “We’re heading to Getaway Number 3.”

  Jeremiah picked up a greatsword while the half-orcs carried the locked chest between them. They all exited through the front door, passing by another armored woman suspended off the ground by a rope around her ankle. Her sword was lying a few paces away, and Jeremiah spent a precious moment to snatch that up too. He was the best armed beggar in the city.

  They chased Monty through the streets of the slum. Jeremiah wanted to let out a cheer. It worked! Almost exactly as he’d said it would, it worked. But there was still a chance for it to unwork if the Blackshades found them, so he kept his celebration internal.

  Monty brought them to a pile of rotten wood and lifted a beam, revealing a narrow tunnel leading underground. “Down.”

  Sweet Melissa simply scampered inside, but Jeremiah, Shugga, and Dronkal had to crawl. The tunnel led deeper and deeper into darkness. Jeremiah sensed the familiar feeling of descent.

  “Drop ahead,” called Sweet Melissa.

  Shugga stopped in front of Jeremiah, shifted, and disappeared into the ground. Jeremiah reached a hand out and discovered a steep wooden slide. He heard a grunt from below.

  “Is it safe?” he asked.

  “No, come down!” said Shugga.

  Jeremiah pondered that for a moment, but at Dronkal’s insistent prodding, he launched himself over the edge.