Ren ignored that and stood from the worktable, flinching as his back muscles cramped from sitting in one place for too long. “Have you heard about a new prisoner at the Fortress?” he whispered, unable to contain the question for another second.
“Prisoner?” Jay said, baffled. “The Fortress has a couple of holding cells, but it’s not a jail. What exactly did you hear?”
“That a bunch of trucks dropped off a prisoner late last night. Supposedly, in chains.” Ren realized how far-fetched this must’ve sounded, but he had to ask. He had been sitting alone with his thoughts for too long.
“I guess I could ask around, but this is the first I’ve heard of that.”
“I’d appreciate it.” Ren relaxed, but only slightly. The prisoner in chains was probably a rumor, but he couldn’t put his guard down yet. “Were you able to stop by my family’s shop?”
“Yes, finally. I couldn’t leave the Fortress without a pass, and I couldn’t get my hands on one until my boss sent me to pick up a few packages after dinner. I just got back.”
“How’s my dad doing? How’s Marty?”
“They’re fine. They’re safe. But let’s talk somewhere else.”
“Why? Do you have bad news?”
“Your family is fine, TB, but I don’t like talking out in the open.” He headed back toward the door. “I know a place where we can go.”
Ren wasn’t sure what Jay meant by that — every corner of the Fortress was always being watched — but Jay was already in the hallway and striding to the last door at the end of the hall. He opened the door for Ren, allowing a brisk wind to pummel their chests.
“After you,” said Jay. “Welcome to the employee lounge.”
Ren stepped outside into a small courtyard that looked nothing like a lounge. The little terrace was fenced in by a six-foot-high concrete wall. A metal table and chairs wobbled in one corner, currently unoccupied, but Ren did notice a video monitor poking out from one of the walls. He didn’t know why they couldn’t have stayed in the sewing room. There were cameras everywhere.
“It’s not much to look at, but we shouldn’t be bothered out here,” Jay said. “Don’t worry about the camera. There’s no audio, just visual, and we’ll be out of eyeshot if we talk at the table. Care to take an uncomfortable seat with me?”
They moved to the table, where they sat upon rusted chairs. Jay began shuffling a deck of cards to keep his hands busy while Ren threaded his fingers together on his lap. He was ready for an update from home. There were times when Ren had felt boxed in and suffocated by his life at the shop — the never-ending work, the nitpicking customers, the smallness of it all — but he ached for it now because it was home. And he really missed his dad. For years their relationship had grown silent and chilled, but deep down Ren had always known that his father loved him. Maybe Mr. Cabot didn’t vocalize that much, but he showed it by making sure Ren was never cold and by tiptoeing around the apartment every weekend so that his son could sleep in. Ren wished that he would’ve thanked his dad for that, but he honestly hadn’t noticed it until he came to the Fortress.
“How’s my family doing?” Ren said.
“I’ll be honest. Your dad isn’t too happy that you’re gone.” Jay shifted until he found a comfortable position, leaning forward slightly with his elbows resting on the table. Then he dealt them both a fresh hand of five-card stud, even though Ren didn’t play. “He wants you to quit and come home. I believe he added a right now.”
Ren had to chuckle. At least that meant his dad was recovering. “He’s holding up okay?”
“Marty said that he sleeps most of the day, but he should be healed up in a couple of months.” Jay picked up his cards and scanned them quickly. “Don’t you want to see your hand?”
“Not really.” Ren wasn’t one to gamble; he didn’t have the money for it. “Did Marty say anything else?”
Jay pushed Ren’s cards closer to him and jutted his chin at the video monitor. “Indulge me.”
“I thought you said the camera couldn’t see us here.”
“The soldiers might be able to see a part of you because of where you’re sitting. In case they get curious, pretend you’re playing cards with me. They won’t bother us if they think we’re doing that.”
Ren sighed and went along with this charade. It never hurt to be too careful, and he really wanted Jay to finish passing along the message. “What did Marty say?” he asked again.
“She told me to tell you something.” Jay leaned forward, and his gaze flicked toward the video camera. Then he uttered two words so softly that Ren barely heard them before the wind snatched them away. “Callipepla californica. I’m with the Resistance, too.”
Ren drew in a cold breath of air. “Did you say …?”
Jay grinned like a purring cat. “Don’t look so shocked.” He ran a hand over his close-shaven head. “You know, your cousin was the one who came up with my little nickname.”
Ren still couldn’t believe what was happening, and he had absolutely no idea what Jay was talking about. “What nickname?”
Jay rubbed his scalp once more, his fingers gliding over the short hair. It looked soft to the touch, like a newborn chick’s. “I’m Bird.”
“Wait. You’re —”
Jay whistled a little tune. “Tweet, tweet.”
Ren had to give himself a minute to let this revelation sink in. His first thought was that he wished Jay had told him sooner. And his second thought was wondering if he could really trust Jay. The Fortress had made him very paranoid, but Ren had to be extra vigilant.
“So how long have you known Marty?” Ren said, trying to sound casual but failing.
Jay tossed down his hand and reshuffled the deck. “Not ready to trust me, eh?”
“I’m just asking some questions.”
“Yeah, Marty said that you might be a hard-liner. I get it. Let’s see … I’ve known your cousin for years. Our moms lived on the same block growing up. We lost touch for a while, but then Marty showed up at one of my poker nights last year. Those nights are invitation-only, but she had heard about it somehow and dropped by to ask me something.”
Ren stared at his newly dealt cards — he had a pair of nines, which seemed like a decent hand — although his attention was solely concentrated on Jay. “Ask you about what?”
“About becoming a donor to a little group she was affiliated with. She called it a charity fund.” Jay rubbed his stubbled jaw and laughed. “You should’ve seen how she dolled herself up that night. I saw right through it, but the rest of the guys were reaching into their wallets to donate.”
Ren smiled. It sounded like Marty, all right. “Did she try to recruit you?”
“Of course. She wanted another insider at the Fortress, but I couldn’t risk losing my job. My poker nights bring in good cash, but it’s not steady pay and I have my mom and little sisters to think about.” Jay plucked a new card from the deck. “Don’t mention my extracurricular evening activities to anyone, okay?”
“Not a word.” Ren knew how to keep a secret. Gambling was illegal in the Territories, but the soldiers might turn a blind eye to it if you gave them enough cash. But running a betting ring was another crime entirely — one that came with severe consequences.
“What made you change your mind about Marty’s offer?” asked Ren.
The smile slipped from Jay’s face and he tossed down his cards, showing triple queens, but he looked the opposite of triumphant. “Let’s say that one of my sisters had a bad run-in with her old boss.”
Ren winced as he thought of the possibilities of what happened. None of them were pretty. “Is she okay?”
“She still has nightmares and has to sleep next to my mom, if you call that ‘okay.’ ” Jay gritted his molars hard. “She worked as a maid at one of those vacation houses. Her drunk of a boss dropped in on her one day and made a pass. When she tried to run for it, he cornered her and beat her unconscious.” He began shuffling his deck, his fingers gripping the car
ds. “We got worried when she didn’t come home that night. My mom was the one who found her.”
Ren clutched the armrests of his chair. It was hard enough to be an American living in the WAT, but being an American female made everything that much tougher. There were more rules that women had to live by: avoid going out alone, know your exits at all times, keep your eyes down always. It was an unfair map that girls had to learn to navigate early on. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for her.” Jay shuffled the deck again before glancing up. Were there tears in his eyes? Ren wasn’t sure. “She’s fourteen years old.”
Fourteen, thought Ren, just a kid. It reminded him of something his mother had murmured to herself years back, after she’d picked him up from school and they had crossed paths with the Quirks. I don’t know how Abel does it, she had said on their way home, raising three little girls in a world like this.
“My sister is the reason why I changed my mind about Marty’s offer. And she’s also the reason why I got this.” Jay angled his back from the camera and motioned for Ren to scoot closer before he pulled at his bottom lip to reveal the soft pink flesh — and something else.
Ren leaned in, studying the black marking. “Is that a tattoo?”
Jay nodded and shut his mouth. “I had to put it in a spot where the soldiers wouldn’t see it.”
“What does it say? The lighting out here isn’t great.”
Jay’s smile reappeared, tugging one side of his mouth upward. “It says: We strike.”
A shiver traveled down Ren’s spine. He recognized those words. He had written them. In the darkest of nights, we strike.
“It’s part of my sister’s favorite quote. She has most of the Viper’s essays memorized because we obviously can’t keep them around the house. Her favorite one was about the new America. Did you read that?”
Ren picked up the deck of cards and shuffled them like the amateur he was, but it was better than sitting there and stammering. Of course he remembered that essay. It had been one of his more philosophical pieces that envisioned an America built upon the Founding Fathers’ ideals but making it better. It would be a nation based on liberty and inalienable rights and the pursuit of happiness — come one come all, no matter the color of your skin or what deity you worshipped or whom you loved. It would be a country where his mom wouldn’t have been murdered and where Mr. Cabot wouldn’t have to worry about patrols. It would be a place where Ren no longer had to write his essays.
Jay drummed his fingers on the table. “What do you think? Have you deemed me trustworthy yet?”
Ren found himself nodding. Jay had uttered the passcode for the mission, which was no small thing. And he had gotten a traitorous tattoo that could get him killed. So Ren decided to go along with this Bird who’d flown into his path. If Marty trusted Jay, then Ren would, too.
“What did Marty say about” — Ren chose his words with care — “our plans for the ball?”
Jay rubbed his palms together. “We’re talking business now? Great.”
“Did you give her the message about the laundries?”
“Yeah, and it just about killed me telling her that.” Jay placed a hand on his heart and winced. “It took me weeks to even scout out the chute. Almost broke my neck a few times, too. I was about to install the pulley before you told me the news.”
“Bad timing,” Ren said with a sigh. “Do we have a plan B in place?”
“Not exactly. We were betting our chips on that laundry chute, so we’re back to square one. We have to look through the Fortress’s schematics and find a new escape route.”
This wasn’t good news at all. In fact, it was even worse than Ren was expecting. He really thought Marty would’ve had a firm alternate plan. “Do we even have a set of these schematics?”
“Nope.” Jay plucked a card from the deck, still playing for the cameras. “We’ll need to sneak into the security room to get them, which won’t be easy. The office is staffed around the clock: three guards during the day shift and two taking the graveyard. I’ve cleaned that place more times than I can count.”
“We don’t have much of a choice at this point. It’s already Monday.”
“I know. That means we’ll have to sneak into the security room tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Ren whispered.
“That’s when I’m scheduled to clean the security office again, and we need to get this ball rolling.”
Ren went quiet, but he knew Jay was right. Getting those schematics was only the first half of the equation. The other half was scoping out each new route and making sure that they weren’t blocked or heavily guarded. There was a lot of work to get done and not much time to do it. “Can the two of us pull this off?”
“I doubt it, but that’s why we have Beetle to help us.”
Ren’s head jerked up. “You know him?”
“Do you mean if I know her?” Jay said with a smirk.
“Oh,” Ren said, chastened. If his mom were here, she’d have a few choice words with him for jumping to the conclusion that Beetle was male. “Who is she, then?”
“She’s Kato’s assistant. Greta Plank.”
Plank? Ren felt the breath knocked out of him all over again. Jay must have been kidding, and yet he wasn’t grinning. “Tell me you’re joking. How could my cousin trust a Nazi like her?”
“Look, I was skeptical at first, too, but Marty vouches for the good Fräulein. She trusts her.”
“But Plank could be a double agent.”
“There’s always that chance, but she has passed on good intel to Marty. Plus, she was the one who helped me scout out that laundry chute.”
Still, Ren wasn’t convinced. “Why would she want to help us?”
“Apparently, Plank’s best friend was dating a Japanese soldier, but the soldier had a temper and put Plank’s friend in the hospital. After the friend died of a blood clot, the Empire covered the whole thing up because the soldier’s uncle is a general or something.” Jay’s face darkened the same way as when he had been talking about his little sister. “That’s why Plank has a bone to pick with her employers.”
This big of a bone, though? Becoming a traitor was no small decision.
Jay slid the deck of cards back into its box. “We should head out.”
“Wait. When can you see Marty again?”
“Maybe around noon tomorrow. It’s shrimp chowder day at the diner in town, and my boss’s boss usually sends me out to pick up a bowl for his lunch.” Jay regarded Ren warily. “Why do you ask?”
“I have another message for her.” Ren leaned over the table, grateful that the video monitor didn’t catch any audio — because both he and Jay would get executed tonight if someone was eavesdropping on them. “I overheard something at the engagement party.”
Jay raised a brow. “Oh?”
Ren proceeded to fill him in about Forst’s engagement present to the Empire — the precious vials of V2 that would soon arrive at Alcatraz. When he was finished, Jay looked dazed.
“This is big,” Jay said finally.
“It’s huge. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. If we can pull off this mission and if Marty can get inside Alcatraz, then she could destroy the Empire’s new stash of V2. The Nazis will probably send them more, but that might take time and it will delay the crown prince from making new Ronin Elite. At least for a little while.” Ren realized that he was talking too fast, and he forced himself to slow down. “That’s why I need you to tell Marty this information. The Resistance has to add it to their plans.”
“I know,” Jay said quietly. His eyes glittered with the possibilities of this development. “I’ll find a way.”
Suddenly, a voice behind in the doorway startled them both. Jay almost dropped his box of cards.
“Hey, lights out,” another janitor called out to them. “I have to lock up.”
“No problem, Benny. We were finished with our game anyway,” said Jay, recovering smoothly
.
They left for Ren’s bunkroom, where the lights had already been turned off. Jay continued on toward his own assigned room. His easy gait had returned, as if they really had spent the last hour playing cards instead of discussing how to overthrow the Empire.
“Sweet dreams, tailor boy. See you tomorrow,” Jay said.
The weight of the day pulled Ren toward his bed and didn’t let go until he was settled on his cot. He lay on his back in the darkness, with his hands clasped on his stomach and his blanket neatly pulled over his waist. All he had to do was fall asleep, but he doubted that he would drift off anytime soon. Not tonight. He had hours of thinking and planning to tackle instead.
At least now he wouldn’t have to do it all alone.
By 9:45 the next night — a mere seventy hours until the ball — the plan was set. The pieces were in place. The players were ready.
Almost ready, that is.
Ren was going through the motions, but he wasn’t sure that they could actually pull this operation off. There was a decent chance that they’d all be arrested within the hour and tortured for information. If that wasn’t bad enough, Ren still doubted Plank’s trustworthiness. He couldn’t help it. Maybe Plank had passed Marty’s vetting process, but she wouldn’t be the first double agent that the Resistance had dealt with. Ren had wanted to talk to her earlier, but she hadn’t stopped by the sewing room and Ren didn’t have time to seek her out. Now he would have to trust her with his life, even if he didn’t quite trust Plank herself. But if Ren wanted to free those prisoners and if he wanted to follow the bread crumbs that might lead to his mom, then he needed Plank’s help.
With that in mind, Ren slipped into the janitorial closet where Jay had promised to meet him. Holding his nose, Ren climbed inside the rolling garbage can that occupied the closet’s corner, squishing himself against the dirty paper towels and empty bleach containers inside.
Minutes ticked by until the door swung open again. Someone tapped a fist against the side of the garbage can.
Live in Infamy Page 10