Chapter One

861 56 41
                                    

Most criminals in Morriston were predictable. That's what I was learning as I climbed up the fire escape onto the roof of an apartment building across the street from Lesner's jewelry store downtown. I zipped my winter coat up to my throat before heaving the backpack off my shoulders, opening Rylan's laptop, and logging in under the username and password written in code on my left palm. While I waited for the computer to boot up, I yanked a thick history textbook out of my bag and flipped to chapter twelve, highlighting a few important-sounding paragraphs.

Homework was such a drag when you were trying to save the world.

"Are you up?" Rylan's gruff voice, the voice he only used when he was Iron Phantom, asked through my earpiece. I shoved the cap back on my highlighter using my teeth and returned my attention to the computer.

"Roger." The laptop finished loading, the screen now filled with the same security camera footage that Rylan had rigged to broadcast regularly into the laboratory in his basement. Nothing notable was happening... yet. My job was to monitor the feeds and the street in front of the jewelry store, but something would be going down soon, if our timing was right.

And Rylan rarely made miscalculations, so I knew I had to be ready.

"Did you really just say roger?" Rylan asked.

"Would you rather I say 'Aye, aye, Captain'?" I tried out my best pirate voice, throwing in an arrr for good measure. Rylan snickered.

"I'd like to request a pirate drinking song next time, but for now just watch the cameras, please."

"Roger, Captain."

My earpiece fell silent. The street was quiet, but it wouldn't be for long. The same thieves had been hitting up every jewelry shop in Morriston for a month, and judging by the pattern they were making, this one was next on the list. Iron Phantom never managed to catch them before they sped out of the city, but Rylan and I knew what to look for now. They always came and went in a different vehicle, but the elaborate outfits they wore never changed. They liked to strike first thing in the morning too, when they could rely on the store's drowsy employees operating solely on caffeine and a prayer.

Predictable. Unskilled. I mean, Rylan and I were largely unskilled too, but I liked to think we at least had the element of surprise on our side.

The clock on Rylan's laptop struck nine, and a clerk flipped the sign in the store's front window from closed to open. I pressed a few buttons on the keyboard, forcing the CCTV camera mounted across the street to zoom in on the employee's face. The woman yawned, covering her mouth, then retreated into the depths of the shop.

Not two minutes later, a dull gray station wagon pulled up at the curb.

"You're up," I said to Rylan.

"Hang on, I need to make sure." He was hiding somewhere in an alley at street level, watching the store as well. He didn't want to jump on anyone until he was certain we had the right people. And honestly, messing with them a little before handing them over to the police was going to be way more fun anyhow.

Two women and a man dressed in impeccable nineteenth century fashions entered the store. The man sported a monocle and a top hat, while the women were decked out in full skirts and corsets that made my chest ache just by looking at them. The crew looked different than the last time they committed a robbery, wearing dark wigs and prosthetic makeup to disguise the shape of their faces, but I knew these were our guys.

Fallen HeroesWhere stories live. Discover now