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Minding Others' Business
MOB - Chapter 7.1

MOB - Chapter 7.1

“Whew! Cold outside,” Natasha grinned, rubbing her exposed arms theatrically.

Natasha wore a sleeveless leather jerkin, with simple leather bracers to protect her forearms. Her upper arms were normally bare (Natasha liked to complain that tight armour restricted her movements and interfered with her blade-play, which Gabriel assumed referred to cutting purses). Her red hair was tied in a neat que, which she would coil and pin in place whenever fight or flight situations loomed. It was a practiced motion, as she had a pretty good track record with both.

“I keep telling you that you should be wearing warmer clothes. It’s almost winter,” Gabriel grumbled to himself, a frown breaking up the monotony of his smooth skin.

“Don’t you worry about me, Gabby,” Natasha said, tussling her brother’s hair, “the cold’s only something you have to worry about if you’re constantly sitting around moaning!”

“I’m watching! You told me to watch!” Gabriel objected.

“And you’re doing such a good job!” she said, pinching his cheek.

Gabriel slapped his sister’s hand away.

Vish spared them a glance, and then continued making obscene sketches in the dust that coated the dining table.

The three of them were in a disused bedroom of a townhouse in Hamlin, on the third floor. The building was riddled with termites, and rot and damp warped the walls and scented the air. Despite this, rent was still too high for the place to have been snapped up, and so it had remained unused for the best part of a year, rapidly becoming more dilapidated as the landlord’s memory of the place faded. They had secured two nights in the meagre accommodation by bribing the neighbours with a paltry sum, and promising to hold their tongues if caught.

This was one of three places they were currently renting. They also had a room at an inn around the corner, and a shared bedroom in a hovel across the way. All three places had been selected for one reason; they had a clear view of Hamlin’s city barracks. Investing in three stakeout spots was a heinous expense, but Natasha wanted to make sure things were done right, and their score would more than cover the costs.

“Alright, Gabby, show me how good those observation skills are. What have you learned?” Natasha prompted.

“Don’t call me that,” Gabriel flashed Vish a look, who was thoroughly uninterested in their conversation, and then returned his despondent sneer to Natasha, “You said you wouldn’t in front of the others.”

Natasha raised her hands apologetically, “Sorry, Gabriel. What did you learn?”

Gabriel was reluctant at first, but his desire to impress soon swept the maudlin tone from his speech, “It looks like there are only two guards posted at this gate, but there is actually a third in a secret room to the right of the entrance. You can just about see the viewing slits,” he pointed “there, see?”

Natasha nodded seriously, “Good spot. Go on.”

“There are alternating patrols, one on the inside, going clockwise, one on the outside, going anti-clockwise. There are five soldiers and a sergeant in each. The patrols are continuous, taking roughly fifteen minutes to complete a full lap.”

“Guard change?” Natasha asked.

“Every hour,” Gabriel informed her, “with each team working a six-hour shift before they clock off for the day. They enter and exit from different gates, depending on who’s working.”

“Is that our in?”

Gabriel shook his head, “Our in is there,” he indicated the North-Western corner of the barracks” external wall, “It’s a little tricky to make out but on the other side of the wall are the latrines. The patrols always give that area a wide birth, and the guards in the corner tower tend to shutter the inward facing windows when the wind blows against them.”

Natasha smiled slowly, “Clever, little brother, very clever. You’ve done us proud,” she stood up in one fluid motion, “Alrighty, let’s get to work! Vish can you-”

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Vish was staring at her impassively.

“Gabriel,” Natasha amended, “can you fetch Figo and Bryce and meet us in the inn? We’ll debrief the others there.”

Gabriel went to object, but Natasha was already striding from the room. He gave the mind-mapper a dirty look instead.

Half an hour later the company of mercenaries was crammed around a table in a tired looking inn, awaiting Natasha’s verdict. Hank and Brenna, the company’s husband and wife duo, sat side by side, with Hank jostling with Vish for elbow space on his other side. Across from them, Natasha, Gabriel, Figo and Bryce shared an equally narrow bench without confrontation.

“Grow up, Vish, for fuck’s sake,” Hank eventually growled through his hay-like beard.

By way of answer, Vish licked his fingers and dunked them in Hank’s ale.

“You’re such a fucking child,” Hank muttered.

When the barmaid had delivered the last of the drinks, Natasha took the helm, “Alright you two, knock it off. It’s crunch time and I need to know you’ve got each other’s backs.”

Reluctantly, Hank nodded. Vish made no response, but nor did he persist in his riling.

“Okay,” Natasha began, “we’ve got our in, thanks to Gabb-” she twitched slightly, “Thanks to Gabriel. We’re going cloak and dagger on this one, so that means minimal feet on the ground,” Natasha looked at each of them in turn as she gave them their instructions, “Figo, I want you covering the West. Keep an eye on us from the apartment Vish and Gabriel were manning. If things go wrong, start laying down some fire. Remember, we’re not murderers, we just have a job to do. Discourage, don’t kill.”

Figo nodded. He looked nervous, but focused.

“Hank, you watch the North, from our room upstairs. Same rules apply. Keep your crossbow cocked but try not to use it if you can help it,” Natasha continued.

Hank patted the butt of his weapon to demonstrate his readiness.

“As for the rest? Gabriel and Bryce will be making the snatch. We’re looking for a longsword. It’s marbled steel, gold inlay, and it has the House Ormon crest on the hilt – A snake wrapped around a key,” she reminded them, “I’m going to be riding Rodney into battle,” Natasha grinned, “I’ll be scouting ahead in the cricket, so only move when I give you two hops on the spot, got it?”

Bryce nodded his bald head.

Natasha turned to Vish, “I want you waiting outside to get me out of that damn cricket as quickly as possible. Brenna will be with you in case anything goes wrong, and to make you look less,” she gave the mind-mapper a once over, “suspicious,” she settled on.

“Should we act like a couple? We could make out or something,” Vish suggested.

Natasha steadied Hank with an empathetic pat on the arm, before the gruff man managed to fish his crossbow out from under the table.

“That’s alright, Vish,” Natasha assured him, “Why don’t you just try and stay out of sight?”

“Fine,” Vish said with a shrug. He wasn’t looking at Natasha when he addressed her. He was playing with a small, golden, hooped earring he had bought the week before, after a woman he liked suggested it might make him look like a pirate.

“Alright, people, get a little liquid courage in you, but don’t get stupid,” Natasha warned, “we leave in two turns of the clock.”

Natasha went to the bar to fetch another drink and to get a little breathing room. It was a short-lived respite, though. She hadn’t even ordered her ale before Gabriel was at her elbow, tapping her gently.

“Problem, Gabriel?” Natasha sighed.

“Well, no, but, also a bit yes?” Gabriel bit his lip, “I’m not really sure I should be going in. I’m a bit clumsy, as well you know,” Gabriel laughed humourlessly.

Natasha looked her brother in the eye, “It’s normal to be a little scared, Gabby, but I know you can do this. I trust you. Besides, Bryce and I will be there to support you. It’s a simple in and out job. There’s really nothing to worry about,” Natasha smiled.

“I just think there are others better at the whole sneaking around thing,” Gabriel persisted, “Maybe Figo?”

“We need our archers covering the perimeter,” Natasha reminded him, “Plus, I know it was you who used to steal cakes from the kitchen when we were kids; you can be sneaky when you want to be,” she grinned.

“I suppose I would have been just as dead if mum had caught me as I will be if these guards do,” Gabriel sighed.

“That’s the spirit!” Natasha said, slapping her brother on the shoulder, “Now spend a bit of time getting out of your head. I need you relaxed.”

Gabriel accepted a drink and went back to sit with the others.

Finally alone, Natasha mentally went over the plan one last time before she allowed herself to relax. There were a lot of calculated risks, but she was sure she had accounted for everything.

It had taken a bit of persuading before the others had agreed to accept a job that blurred the lines of legality, but they had faith in her. That wasn’t to say that things always went smoothly, or that they landed the most glamorous work, but Natasha had always seen to it that they had food in their bellies and a decent place to sleep for the night. So, when an old contact had crawled out of the woodwork and asked Natasha to retrieve something belonging to the heir of the Ormon household - a sword confiscated for participation in an unsanctioned duel - she dutifully convinced them of the job’s merits.

Ormon was a well-known name, and the sword would eventually be re-acquired through a succession of bribes, gifts and posturing. They were simply fast-tracking a process already underway. It was a victimless crime, and they were even ensured some leniency if things went south, not that Natasha was keen to put that particular promise to the test.

Natasha reassured herself of her motivations, drowned the weight of expectation upon her in deep gulps of ale, and searched fruitlessly for holes in her planning. Finally satisfied, she joined the others and waited for the operation to begin.