“I’m gonna be honest,” Hex said as the canoes pulled up to the dock, “I didn’t expect you guys to make it back.”

“I didn’t expect you to wait up for us,” Lacey replied breathlessly. She hitched her canoe and took a second to rest. Sweat ran in rivulets down her back. The handkerchief around her face smelled awful.

Hex squatted next to her and held the gunnel while Lacey climbed out. “I wouldn’t have,” she said, “but Wrench was worried.”

Wrench hadn’t seemed worried when they left. Then again, Lacey wasn’t the best judge of character. She shrugged off the comment and settled on the dock to catch her breath.

“It’s full?” Hex asked, gesturing toward the false-bottom tank.

“Sure is.” Rivet had also left their canoe. They knotted the hitch rope and stood with ease. “Lacey did pretty good for a first timer.”

Hex made an approving noise.

Rivet helped Lacey to her feet. “Can we get inside? My biceps are killing me.”

“Means you’ve got shitty form,” Lacey muttered. Her arms did hurt, but it was her back that really burned.

“Asshole,” Rivet muttered. They sniffled and looked down at her with a wrinkled nose. “Jesus, you stink. Let’s get you washed up, I’d rather you at least smell okay while you yell at me.”

Hex led them inside and pointed them to the showers. Lacey had only used them a couple times before. The water was cold and definitely not potable, but at this point, she couldn’t care less. She scrubbed herself down and took a second to massage her aching trapezii before heading toward the infirmary. Rivet followed close behind.

When they opened the door, Wrench half-stood on a reflex. She hissed and sank back onto the bed, but the pain didn’t dull the spark in her eyes. “You’re back,” she said.

“Of course,” Rivet said, with a lopsided smile. They sat down next to their sister and wrapped their arm around her shoulders. “It went great. Lacey was stellar.”

Wrench’s face tightened. “You didn’t see Norba out there, did you?”

“Nah. Why would we have?” Rivet shrugged, then winced. “Ow. Seriously, Lace, how are your arms not hurting?”

Lacey didn’t respond to them. “Isn’t Norba here?” she asked. She didn’t like Wrench’s expression.

“I think she’s back now.” Wrench sat with the forced stillness of someone trying to contain a nervous tic. “I heard her and a couple of the others leave right after you guys. They came back a little while ago, before you two did.”

Lacey’s stomach churned. She’d known something felt off, and she’d ignored it. This is what she got for not paying attention.

“Nothing went wrong,” Rivet said slowly. Their eyes flicked up to Lacey’s. Judging by the hardness in their expression, both of them were on the same page.

“I didn’t see a boat,” said Lacey. Or maybe she’d missed it. She could’ve dropped the ball yet again.

“They didn’t take a boat,” Wrench said.

All three of them went silent for a moment.

“Where is she now?” Lacey asked.

“I don’t know.” Wrench looked up at her in something like supplication. “I heard them walking down the main hallway, but I’m not sure where they ended up.”

“Main floor?” Rivet suggested.

Lacey nodded. “Seems likely. Can’t hurt to check.”

Wrench glanced around the room, blinking in confusion. “Where’s Hex?”

Rivet and Lacey stared at each other.

“Do you still have that gun on you?” Rivet asked.

#

Lacey’s heartbeat thudded in her ears, a counter-rhythm to the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hallway. Rivet walked beside her. They didn’t look at each other. Lacey was too busy looking ahead and Rivet was too busy listening for anyone from behind.

The gun was stowed in Lacey’s waistband. She’d tucked her hand under her jacket as if resting it in her pants pocket, palm on the grip. They didn’t want to look suspicious, but they sure as hell were going to come prepared.

Voices became audible as they neared the double doors leading to the main part of the warehouse. The duo slowed their pace. Lacey’s fingers tightened ever so slightly.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Rivet caught her eye and held up four fingers. Lacey confirmed with a nod.

The jackers weren’t making any effort to be quiet. The closer they got, the clearer their words became. The doors were too thick to make out exactly what was being said.

A shared glance confirmed it: neither was willing to wait to find out the subject of their conversation.

Rivet pushed one of the doors and Lacey stepped over the threshold. She kept Rivet covered and her shooting arm tense.

Four heads swiveled her way as the door opened. Hex was there, along with two other jackers whose names Lacey couldn’t remember. None of them were visibly armed. They stood around the few empty crates that served as furniture in this empty space, staring accusatorially at the newcomer who’d cut off their conversation.

Norba sat on top of a table, holding a glass of what Lacey could only assume was moonshine. She lifted it and tossed her head back in greeting. “Welcome back,” Norba called. “How’s it feel to be a real life criminal?”

“Pretty nice,” Lacey replied, tone measured. “Easier than I expected.”

Norba smirked. “Yeah, don’t get used to it, sweetheart.” She took a swig from her glass.

“Are most jobs not like that?” Lacey tried to keep her face neutral. Rivet shifted their weight behind her.

“Not normally, no.”

Lacey tried to make sense of the double negative, then gave up. “Is that barge normally so unguarded?” she asked. Subtlety just wasn’t working quickly enough.

“Yup.” Norba popped the P and let her head roll to one side. “Why, were you expecting something high security?”

“No,” Lacey said, “but I wasn’t expecting them to let the entire deck go unwatched. Or for them to start unloading.”

“Well, the skipper’s gotten comfortable over time. Lets her guard down.” Norba took another sip of alcohol and winced at the taste. “Ugh, that’s harsh. How long ago did you guys cook this one up?”

“How do you know what the skipper does?” Lacey pressed.

Norba’s eyes sharpened. She leaned forward and braced her elbows against her knees, just like when they’d first met her. “I feel like you don’t understand how this works. Who do you think is in charge here?” She turned her head without tearing her eyes away from Lacey. “Tappet, who’s in charge?”

“You are,” said the jacker next to Hex.

“Right.” Norba raised an eyebrow. “And who needs to know how I conduct my business?”

“You do,” Tappet supplied.

“Exactly. Not you.” Norba chopped the air with her hand for emphasis. “All you need to know is what I tell you to do and how I want you to do it. Understand?”

Lacey nodded stiffly.

Silence fell over the room.

“I need to check on the little one’s leg,” Hex said. She motioned toward the door. “Can I…?”

“Whatever.” Norba leaned back again and took another drink.

Hex walked past Lacey and Rivet with her eyes on the floor. After a moment’s hesitation, they followed her.

“What was that about?” Rivet asked as soon as the door fell shut.

Hex walked faster than both of them, staring straight ahead and keeping her shoulders stiff. “I can’t tell you.”

“Like hell you can,” Rivet spat.

Hex didn’t falter. Lacey half-jogged to walk in stride with her. Her face was set, but her eyes sparked with an energy Lacey couldn’t identify. “I can’t tell you about what Norba does,” Hex said. She barely moved her lips as she spoke. “I can tell you things people in the area might know. Stuff you could’ve picked up on if you were careful. If you really listened to us talking, y’know.”

“Sure,” Rivet said. They’d reached Hex’s other side and walked alongside her, staring straight ahead just like she did. “Normal stuff. Totally just inferences, rumors, whatever.”

Hex gave a curt nod. “Exactly.”

“What sort of things might we have heard?” Lacey asked.

They’d reached the infirmary. Hex stopped and turned to face them. “Norba told you that’s a supply barge for fat cats in Portland,” she said. “Maybe you heard she knows the skipper pretty well. Rumor has it they’ve set something up between themselves and the locals, but no one knows for sure. They do have some pretty decent food there in the inland towns. Stuff that costs a lot. Usually that stuff’s only for rich folk. They don’t get a lot, though. Not enough that anybody’d notice if it went missing from a big shipment.” Her eyes flickered toward the infirmary door. “Not just food. Medicine, too.”

“Maybe that barge carries electric boats,” Lacey said slowly.

“Maybe it does.” Hex met her eyes. “If I were a skipper with a criminal friend, I might find that friend a little something extra to help her get around, help do her job. And to protect me better.”

Rivet’s brow furrowed. “If I were that skipper, I’d just give my friend the fuel she asked for. I wouldn’t make her sneak around and skim off my tank for no reason.”

“No,” Hex said meaningfully. “I definitely wouldn’t either.”

Rivet and Lacey locked eyes.

“I’ve gotta go check on blondie,” Hex said. “Remember, you could’ve heard this from anybody. It’s all guesswork, anyhow.” She slipped inside the infirmary.

Rivet stood still for a moment, then sagged against the wall with a heavy exhale. “Shit, dude.”

“That about sums it up,” Lacey agreed. She flicked her gun’s safety on and sank into a crouch.

“Well, Norba was right,” Rivet said finally. “This job definitely wasn’t how most of them go.”

Lacey cracked a humorless smile. They weren’t wrong. It wasn’t every day that you were all but threatened into helping a fuel broker steal from their illicit business associate.

“Where do you think those supplies are even coming from?” Rivet wondered. “I mean, there’s warehouses and stuff inland, but as far as I know, relief boats don’t even come down here anymore. I don’t know who even makes any of this shit.”

“I don’t know.” Lacey rubbed her face. Her whole body was starting to feel fuzzy. The adrenaline must be wearing off. “When Mara got our groceries, the markings on the boxes were all spray painted over.”

“Yeah, the ones they were unloading tonight were covered up like that, too. I guess that’s just how you do it in the rich people supply hauling biz.” Rivet chuckled. “Honestly, I’ve got no idea how they inventory that shit.”

“Probably makes it easier for a few containers to go missing.” Lacey stifled a yawn.

“Jesus, Lace, you’re wiped.” Rivet’s brow creased with concern.

“I’m fine,” Lacey protested. Her words slurred ever so slightly.

“Bull. Come on, we’re getting you to bed. More talking in the morning, when you’re coherent." Rivet hoisted Lacey to her feet and wrapped an arm around her waist to support her.

Technically, Lacey could walk fine on her own, but she didn’t complain. She let Rivet guide her onto the dock, past the stolen electric boats, and into the Torpedo. She lay down on top of Rivet, still in full jacking gear, and fell asleep before her head met their chest.