Thief Trap

by Jonathan Moeller

  “I’m guessing this data rod is more complicated than an LED,” I said.

  “Considerably,” said Nicholas. “The synthetic crystal used to create it was hideously expensive and practically indestructible. Much like Shane’s briefcase. The rod is an absolutely unique key that grants its bearer access to Last Judge Mountain. Simply insert the rod into the lock, and the defenses power down and the doors open. I also suspect the rod will grant access to other areas within the Last Judge facility.”

  “And I take it that the rod wasn’t inside Shane’s briefcase when you found it,” I said. Or, rather, when I found it for him.

  “It was not,” said Nicholas.

  “I suppose you can’t…I don’t know, the thing’s a key, so can’t you just cut another one?”

  “That would be a logical course of action,” said Nicholas. “Unfortunately, the technology required to grow the synthetic crystal and imprint it with the necessary circuits has been lost for centuries.” His thin smile returned. “Perhaps the technical knowledge to do so will be found inside the mountain.”

  I sighed. “So. This rod. Where is it?”

  “In the private collection of Duke Orothor of Las Vegas,” said Nicholas. “The Duke, as I understand, has something of a fascination with pre-Conquest history. Somehow, he obtained the optoelectronic data rod that we need. For the first phase of this plan, you are going to procure the rod for us.”

  “Where is it?” I said.

  “In the Duke’s private museum in the Grand Warrior Casino in Las Vegas,” said Nicholas.

  I had never actually been to a casino in my life. But since it was a place where people with poor math skills gave away their money in exchange for nothing, I had to assume it was very well guarded. “I assume the security is excellent?”

  “Some of the best in the country,” said Nicholas. “Not quite the equal of the Royal Bank, but nonetheless very good. The Royal Gaming Association runs all the casinos in Nevada, under the patronage of Duke Orothor, and the Duke permits the Las Vegas crime syndicate to run the Association on his behalf.”

  “In exchange for a cut of the profits and a promise not to make too much trouble,” I said.

  “Correct,” said Nicholas. “Needless to say, the syndicate is very concerned about security.” He smiled. “You’ll be leaving tomorrow with Swathe and Morelli to take a look at the casino and begin assessing the defenses. I’ll…

  “Nope,” said Russell.

  Nicholas frowned at him in surprise. So did I, since I had told Russell to stay quiet during the meeting.

  “You have a thought, Mr. Moran?” said Nicholas at last.

  “Boy, none of you guys are lawyers,” said Russell. Nicholas only raised his eyebrows. Hailey smirked at him. Morelli and Leonid watched with polite interest, while both Corbisher and Swathe glared.

  “I believe Martin was previously a member of the Minnesota Bar,” said Nicholas, his amusement plain.

  “You couldn’t tell, given how bad this negotiation was,” said Russell.

  “Russell,” I said.

  He was in way over his head with these people.

  But he kept going. “See, Lord Morvilind’s deal was that my sister would steal three things for you people, and then she would be done. She’s already done two…and now you’re asking her to do four?” He counted off four fingers. “The previous two items, the Sky Hammer, and the optoelectronic data rod. I am just a simple high school student, but I’m still pretty sure that four is more than three.”

  “You little white-haired freak,” growled Swathe. “Keep your goddamn mouth shut while your betters are talking, or I’ll…”

  “I notice that you haven’t countered his argument,” said Murdo, calm as ever. “Or is counting past three too difficult for you?”

  “Keep your mouth shut, you traitor,” said Swathe. “You couldn’t even…”

  “Swathe,” said Nicholas, and Swathe subsided. “Mr. Moran makes a cogent point.” His eyes turned back to Russell, colder than they had been before, though his smile remained. I realized he was assessing Russell as a potential threat, and previously he had likely seen Russell as sort of an extension of me. “However, it is irrelevant. Your sister has already agreed to help obtain the Sky Hammer weapon from the Last Judge facility. She knew that this would be a complex and difficult job, and complex and difficult jobs frequently require multiple preliminary steps. Obtaining the optoelectronic data rod is simply one of those steps. Miss Moran is welcome to go straight to Last Judge Mountain without that first step, assuming she can even find it. But I assure you, Mr. Moran, neither you nor your sister would enjoy the outcome of that course of action.”

  Russell grinned. Dear God, was he enjoying this? “Is that a threat, Mr. Connor?”

  “Certainly not. I won’t lift a finger. The defenses of the mountain will kill her in short order. Which, as I pointed out, is why we first need to obtain the rod.”

  “There’s no point in hiring experts unless you listen to them, is that right?” said Russell.

  “Just so,” said Nicholas.

  “That’s why you’re going to let Nadia pick who comes with us to scout out the Grand Warrior Casino,” said Russell.

  Nicholas seemed caught halfway between amusement and annoyance. Swathe just looked furious, Corbisher impatient. Hailey was smirking at Swathe, likely because she hated him and liked to see him irritated. Morelli and Leonid just watched calmly.

  “Is that right?” said Nicholas. “And just why am I going to do that, Mr. Moran?”

  “Because you can’t get the rod yourself,” said Russell. “If you could, we wouldn’t be here. You’d have gotten the rod and the Sky Hammer already. Since you agreed with me that it’s good to hire experts and listen to their advice, you should let Nadia pick who comes with her to scout the casino.” He glanced around the table. “I’ve only been here a quarter of an hour, but it definitely seems like some of your employees are more professional than others.”

  “We are not employees,” spat Swathe, his face darkening. “We are sworn soldiers of the Revolution, dedicated to freeing mankind from the tyranny of the High Queen and the Elves, and I do not have to sit here and listen to some diseased little shit lecture us about…”

  “Like I said.” Russell smiled at Swathe. “Some of your employees are more professional than others.”

  Swathe shot to his feet, reaching for the gun at this belt, and the room might have exploded into violence yet again, but Nicholas spoke first.

  “Mitchell, sit down and be quiet,” said Nicholas. Swathe sat down, still glaring at Russell. “Mr. Moran, I amused by your boldness, but the bald fact is that I hold all the cards. If I report to the Forerunner that your sister’s performance was unsatisfactory, the Forerunner will break his deal with Lord Morvilind, and you will die of your illness.”

  “That’s true, that’s true,” said Russell, as if graciously conceding the point. “Mr. Connor, that is a very well-reasoned argument, but I’m afraid you’ve overlooked one thing.”

  “Oh?” said Nicholas.

  “What if I break the deal myself?” said Russell.

  My jaw fell open before I could stop it. I hadn’t been suspecting that.

  Nicholas smiled, but his eyes were cold, cold, cold.

  “I’ve always known that my disease might kill me,” said Russell, “and I’ve made my peace with that. And I look around the room, and I think about what might happen if a weapon like the Sky Hammer fell into the hands of a group of malcontents and losers like your employees. So, what if I called up the Inquisition myself and told them all about this? I mean, I would either die of my illness or you’d kill me…but in the process I would save the thousands of people you would have killed with the Sky Hammer, and I’ll be freeing my sister from this deal. Everyone dies, right? That would be a good way to go.”

  Dead silence filled the room.

  Swathe looked like he was about to explode, or maybe have a stroke. Corbisher seemed alarmed. I gl
anced at Murdo and saw that he was smiling a little. Dear God, but I’d never seen Nicholas challenged like this to his face. I’d done it a few times, but I had a ton of magic and experience with violence to back me up.

  Russell didn’t have any of that.

  Yet depending on what happened next, a fight might start, and this would all end right here.

  Nicholas leaned back in his chair and let out a breath.

  “You know, Kat,” he said, “I see truculence clearly runs in your family.”

  “Oh?” I said.

  “All right, Mr. Moran,” said Nicholas. “We’ll do it your way. Your sister can choose which of my associates joins her for the scouting trip to the casino.” He raised a finger. “But I will insist on choosing one member of the team to make sure the Revolution’s interests are represented. I do hope this is an acceptable compromise. Because otherwise, we’re about to find out if your sister can take on all of us at once.”

  “Well, she did beat Lorenz and Vastarion,” said Russell. Which wasn’t strictly true. “But I’m glad you could see reason, Mr. Connor.”

  Nicholas looked at me.

  “Fine,” I said. “We’ll take Morelli.” Morelli made no reaction. “He’s the only one of you who has experience with this kind of thing.”

  “Very well,” said Nicholas. “Return here at 6 AM tomorrow to depart for Las Vegas. You’ll want to see the casino in the late afternoon and evening to determine the best time to organize the raid. I will have selected my representative by then.”

  “Great,” I said, getting to my feet. Russell and Murdo followed suit. “If that’s all, we’ll be leaving.”

  “Be seeing you soon, Kat,” said Nicholas. “Oh, and Mr. Moran?”

  “Yeah?” said Russell.

  That cold smile turned in Russell’s direction. “I’m looking forward to future conversations.”

  Yeah. That couldn’t be good.

  We left without another word.

  Chapter 4: Gambling

  Later that night, Russell and I stood before the mirror in our hotel room’s bathroom.

  Well, I stood. Russell sat on a stool I had stolen from the hotel’s dining area. He was tall enough that it was the only way I could reach his head comfortably. The vent fan in the ceiling rattled, trying to deal with the fumes and failing abjectly. I was wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and Russell only had on a pair of shorts in case I dripped dye.

  Which I hadn’t, I should point out. I’ve had to dye my hair a few times, and I’d gotten pretty good at it.

  “That looks terrible,” said Russell, frowning into the mirror.

  “It really does,” I agreed, drying off my hands on a towel.

  Actually, Russell looked good. I hadn’t realized this because he was so skinny, but he had gotten less skinny and more muscular in the last year. He had taken up weightlifting in a serious way, and he was young enough that the muscles bloomed like weeds in the summer. I had worried that Russell would have trouble with women because of his hair and the social stigma from the fact he would never serve as a man-at-arms, but I was beginning to think that his problem with women wouldn’t be too little attention from them but rather way too much.

  Especially since he was confident enough to threaten someone like Nicholas Connor to his face.

  “All right, I think we’re done,” I said.

  “That took less time than I expected,” said Russell, scrutinizing his reflection.

  “It helps that your hair was already white, so we could pretty much dye it whatever color we wanted.”

  Russell grimaced. “I look like I dipped my head in a tub of black ink.”

  He kind of did.

  “It will look better as the color wears in,” I said. “But it’s way less noticeable than a sixteen-year-old with white hair, which is the point.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Russell. “I told Connor to listen to the expert, so I had better do the same thing.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Nicholas.”

  Russell winced. “You’re not happy how I talked to him.”

  “Not…really,” I said. “I mean, I’ve said way worse to him, but he needs me. He doesn’t need you. And he is going to find a way to hurt you for making him back down in front of his people like that. I don’t know how, and he might not know himself yet, but he will find a way.”

  “Yeah,” said Russell. “I figured. But he does need me, and he knows it.”

  I frowned. “What does Nicholas need you for?”

  Russell blinked. “Don’t you know? If I get hurt or killed, he doesn’t have any way of controlling you, and he knows it. Like, if I wasn’t here, what would you do?”

  My frown deepened. “You’re not getting all suicidal and sacrificial on me, are you?”

  “No, I don’t want to die,” said Russell. “But…seriously. If Connor or his people kill me or hurt me, how would you react?”

  “Violently,” I said. “Explosively.”

  Russell nodded. “He knows that. He can push you around because he knows that you won’t do anything to endanger me.”

  “He doesn’t push me around,” I said. “He tries to push me around.”

  “But you usually wind up doing what he wants in the end,” said Russell.

  I thought back to how Nicholas had kissed me in Indiana, and how I had almost wound up attacking him over that. “Not always. But I see your point. I could never go too far because if I did, you might die of frostfever.” I sighed. “But if you’re threatening to blow the whole thing up…”

  “He doesn’t know how to counter that yet,” said Russell.

  “Yet,” I said. “He’s clever enough to figure something out.”

  “I know,” said Russell, voice somber. “But…if we don’t do something, he’s going to kill us when you steal the Sky Hammer for him, Nadia. Or if you work out a good plan to steal it, he might decide to take his chances and kill us first.” He shrugged. “So, I guess we’d better get ready.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  There are few things in life as scary, I reflected, as a teenager who had accepted his mortality and is comfortable with it.

  “While looking like I stuck my head in a can of black paint,” said Russell.

  “It’s not that bad,” I said, stepping to the sink and washing my hands. “Let it set overnight and then take a shower in the morning. It won’t look quite so stark after that.”

  “Okay,” said Russell. He got up, stretched, and walked to the desk. “Hey, want to see what I was looking at in the car?”

  “Sure,” I said. On the ride back from the restaurant, Russell had been furiously working on his phone. I had been caught between wanting to yell at him and pride for how he had forced Nicholas to back down. I had settled for keeping quiet as I thought things over.

  A rarity for me, I know.

  Russell lifted his phone and turned the screen towards me. It displayed a picture of a dark-skinned man, middle-aged but fit, with graying black hair and solemn brown eyes, a close-cropped beard around his lips. He wore a formal-looking green uniform of a design that I didn’t recognize, and the backdrop of the picture was an American flag.

  “Who is that?” I said. “No. Wait. Is that…”

  “Yep,” said Russell. “General Jeremy Shane himself. I think this was taken when he was commanding troops in the Caliphate. Though it wasn’t the Caliphate back then.”

  “Where did you find this?” I said.

  “It was in the public Internet encyclopedia,” said Russell. “I wanted to see if I could corroborate some of the stuff that Connor told us.” He shrugged. “But it was pretty thin. The entry just matches the stuff Connor said – Army general, Secretary of Defense, and all that. But get this. You remember that President Kerrigan guy, the last pre-Conquest President?”

  I nodded.

  “If you look at his entry, it says Kerrigan was executed for crimes against the American people on the first Conquest Day,” said Russell. “It says the
same thing about his vice president and all his Cabinet officials, that they were all corrupt and that the High Queen executed them for their crimes.”

  “What does it say about Shane?” I said, curious now.

  “Nothing,” said Russell. “It doesn’t give a cause of death. It just says that he died in Conquest Year 2…uh, 2015 AD, in the old calendar. There are no details at all.”

  “Huh,” I said. “Well, I know how Shane died. His own people assassinated him because he was too cautious for their taste.” I felt myself frown. “But…why wouldn’t that be in the official record? The Department of Education oversees the public Internet encyclopedia. Why not say Shane was killed by his own Rebels?”

  “There’s not a lot about the Rebels in the encyclopedia,” said Russell. “Just a list of defeated Rebel and Archon attacks. No mention of Venomhold or the Dark Ones, though.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I can see why they wouldn’t want that to be public knowledge.”

  But it was strange that the encyclopedia didn’t list Shane’s cause of death. Why omit it? The encyclopedia proudly detailed the executions of Kerrigan and his Cabinet. Hell, you could even watch the video. Maybe the encyclopedia omitted Shane’s death because it messed with the official narrative of the Conquest. Having a Rebel group active two years after the first Conquest Day didn’t get mentioned in the history books.

  That sounded right. But I felt I was missing something, maybe something important.

  Whatever it was, I couldn’t figure it out.

  “Well, I’m going to put the stool back, so they don’t charge us for it,” I said, slipping on a pair of shoes. “Then I’m going to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to suck, so we might as well rest up for it.”

  Russell nodded, and I picked up the stool and headed down to the lobby. We had chosen a hotel on the outskirts of Reno, with windows that looked into the desert and towards the mountains. There weren’t many guests since it was a weekday, and I can’t imagine Reno is a popular tourist destination in late June. The lobby was a big space carpeted in blue, and I set the stool I had borrowed at one of the high tables.