“Let’s go upstairs,” Leif says, waving for us to follow as he turns towards the door. “Anything he left behind is still up there, and I don’t need it sitting in an empty room if that trouble turns more serious than you suspect.”
A few curious pairs of eyes track us as Leif leads us through the pub and up a creaky set of wooden stairs. We climb until we reach the fourth floor, and he unlocks a door and ushers us inside before closing it behind him.
“There’s more privacy up here,” he says. “These schedules will do us a lot of good, but it’s not a normal shipment we’re looking for.”
“What is it, then?” I ask.
He taps the rolled papers against his palm, weighing how much to share. “We caught wind of a big meeting taking place in the city. Rumor has it they’re pulling in a group of the top leadership after some secret base got blown up.”
Ego and I exchange a quick glance, and Leif raises an eyebrow.
“I’m assuming you know something about that?”
“We can confirm a base was destroyed,” I reply carefully, “but we don’t know anything about a meeting. That’s what you think you’ll find in those?”
Leif nods and unrolls the papers, scanning them quickly. “We’ve been tracking shipment routes for years. Everything follows a pattern. Food comes twice a week, usually on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Things like weapons or equipment are less frequent, and almost always on Sunday nights when the markets are closed and the streets are quiet. And it’s always a single convoy.”
He flips through a few pages before jabbing at one line item. “Three lanes shut down on a Wednesday with this level of protection? In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it. Has to be the High Commanders.”
“What are you planning?” I ask, my mind already going into worst-case scenario mode and picturing riots in the streets.
“Right now, we’re gathering intel,” Leif says, glancing at Cato. “Gideon wanted to go in guns blazing, but the security around these people will be insane. We’ve got a few insiders collecting what they can before we decide the next move.”
“What are you after?” I press.
He flashes a righteous grin. “Whatever we can get. Future plans, military targets, weak spots… you name it, we want it. And if we’re able to take out a few of them in the process? The more of those bastards we kill, the better.”
“Sounds risky,” I counter.
He shrugs. “Sometimes risk is worth the reward. If we hit them hard enough to send them scrambling, it might open a real chance to dismantle some of their control.”
“Okay, I'll give you that,” I concede, “but what’s the end goal?”
Leif levels me with a steady gaze. “Taking back our power. Overthrowing their rule and building a society worth a damn again.”
“I’m not convinced society was ever worth a damn,” Ego mutters.
Leif grunts in agreement. “Maybe not, but it sure as shit was better than this.”
We all nod, understanding without the need for more words, and Leif eventually sighs. “I won’t drag you in deeper than you want to be, but be prepared in case everything goes south. I’ll tell your brother you stopped by. He knows how to reach you?”
“He does,” Cato confirms, shooting a brief glare at Ego’s smirk.
Leif waves his mitt of a hand around the room. “Clean the place out and take what you want. Anything left when you leave will get burned.”
“Understood,” I reply as he gives us a final nod and heads out the door.
I wait until his footsteps fade down the stairs before scrubbing my hands over my face with a heavy sigh. “We might need to lie low for the next few days. I don’t want to get caught in whatever trouble they’re about to kick up.”
“Aw, but trouble is so much fun!” Ego chirps, her grin wide and unrepentant before she glances around. “Do you want any of his shit, boss?”
I let my hands fall and take in the space. A haphazardly folded change of clothes sits on the small table beside a half-empty glass of water. A stack of papers rests on the edge of the bed, and a leather backpack lies tossed in the corner.
I can almost see him here, alone and searching for me, and the imagined sorrow in his posture lands like a quiet blade.
“Can I have a few minutes to look through the room?” I ask quietly.
Cato and Ego exchange a glance before Cato nods and claps a gentle hand on my shoulder.
