Authors: Natalie Whipple
I gulp, unable to say anything at the account.
“Bastard,” Lee Seol says. “I had no idea wall walking wouldn’t set off alarms, but apparently he can go right through lasers no problem. He must have been planning this for awhile, because he didn’t appear on any of the cameras I put around the house. He knew the blind spots.”
Seth swears. “We need to do something
now.
Do we even know how to get into The Phantom’s base?”
“It’s underground,” Lee Seol says. “I’ve been able to get a basic layout of the place, but Crisis put extra security on the passwords to open the doors. He’s trying to get me out of their system, but I’m hanging on. Those doors won’t open without the right code.”
Brady flexes his muscles. “What if I punch my way in?”
Lee Seol shakes her head and pulls out what I think is a folding screen. She opens it until it’s about the size of a piece of paper, and then an image lights up on it. It’s a blueprint. She points to a bunch of round things by what looks to be a huge door. “See these? They’re bombs. Rigged to go off at the slightest attempt to use force. So unless you are also indestructible, I wouldn’t recommend punching.”
“Shit,” Carlos says, and then Rosa smacks him. He gives her an incredulous look. “What am I supposed to say, Ma? There is a
fortress
under our SuperMart—look at that thing!”
Hector lets out a long sigh. “And we thought we were so safe here.”
“There’s no such thing as safe,” Alejandro says as he sits down on a nearby rock. He looks up at us, his face set in determination. “You only have one choice, but from what Miles told me you might not like it.”
“What’s that?” Seth asks.
“What could possibly be so bad at this point?” I say. “I’m up for anything if it means stopping that psycho.”
Alejandro scratches the back of his head. “Well, you’re gonna have to talk to your dad, Seth. There’s no doubt John has the codes.”
The shock on everyone’s faces is unanimous as Brady says, “You
knew
?”
Alejandro nods, and suddenly Bea’s dad will never look the same to me again.
“No,” Seth says before Alejandro can get another word out. “I saw what he does—I’m not talking to him ever again. I don’t care if he has what we need.”
I want to argue with my boyfriend, since my mom’s life is on the line. But I can’t blame him for feeling that way. “He said if we interfered again he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt us.”
“He’s a traitor,” Brady growls.
Hector holds up his hands. “Hold on now—what are you talking about? I thought your dad didn’t do anything but alcohol and drugs.”
Alejandro lets out a long, tired sigh. “That’s his way of coping with what he’s had to do all these years,
mijo.
Just after his wife died, Juan was already threatening us. Everyone knew what Brady was, and Juan wanted to indoctrinate him early. They were coming for us, too. We didn’t have a lot—you think they left us alone just for the money? No, John was part of the deal. He agreed to work for Juan as long as he could remain undercover.”
While it all makes sense, it’s hard to take. “So he really does work
for
Juan?” I ask.
“Yes, unwillingly.” Alejandro looks sad and tired, but also relieved, like having the secret out is a weight off his chest. “It was either him or our kids. How could I tell him not to do it? So I said I’d take care of you guys like my own, make sure the construction company was run well. It was the least I could do when he was sacrificing his soul for us.”
Seth balls his fists, looking away. “Don’t make it sound like he’s noble. You think I’m happy to know my dad became a murderer for me?”
“I’m not
asking
you to think of him as noble,” Alejandro says. “I’m just telling you this because you need his help and I believe he
will
help you. He only gives Juan the bare minimum. Because he’s undercover, he gets all the information first and then filters what he wants to Juan.”
I can’t help thinking of all the holes in The Phantom’s information—how he knew I was here and yet not that Seth can see me, how he seems to know someone is hacking but not that Spud is
here
, how he knows we have the merinite but not that it’s in a cave. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I say, “That does make sense. He must have a lot of stuff on us—and it’s obvious Juan
doesn’t
have all that information.”
Seth purses his lips, and my guess is he doesn’t have an argument for that.
“If this code is half as jacked as the last one,” Lee Seol grumbles, her eyes glued to her super phone, “then asking him is our best shot.”
I want to demand that we go with this plan, but when I look at Seth and Brady I can’t. They are so pissed about this—and their feelings do matter to me even if my mom is at stake here. Taking a deep breath, I say, “What do you think? Should we?”
Seth raises an eyebrow, and then looks to Brady. “How do you feel, bro?”
Brady frowns. “As much as I don’t want to talk to him, we can’t let Fiona’s mom die.”
Seth nods. “I’ll do the talking then. You can stay outside.”
“Sounds good,” Brady says.
“Okay, enough shitting around. Go kick some ass.” Lee Seol comes up to me, the big-screen map in front of her. “Get a good look at this layout, Fi. It’s not a huge place, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy to find her.”
“Everyone, study this before we go. Lee Seol, you think you’ll be able to keep in contact with us from here?”
“Should be fine, since I have their network when you go underground. And I got fifteen hours of battery—you better be done by then.”
“Call Seth if I don’t answer. I’ll probably have to go invisible at some point.” Though the thought of having to be naked after I’ve seen what I really look like? I shudder.
“Yup. I’m watching Graham, too,” Lee Seol says. “So do your job and leave the worrying to me.”
Miles gives me a pat on the back. “Get going.”
The second we hit the edges of Madison, it’s clear this won’t be easy. The streets are crawling with Juan’s guys, and this time they aren’t pretending to mind their own business. They’re armed, and their eyes scan everything in search of intruders. Luckily, we have just the thing to throw them off.
Bea cups her hands around her mouth, looking positively excited that she gets to use her skills to their fullest tonight. Taking a deep breath, she sends some kind of sound out there. About six seconds later, a loud crash startles the patrollers, and they head into the darker depths of the nearby park.
“Better book it!” Bea takes off at a run, and we follow because she’s the only one who knows the sound’s direction.
We do this about five times—with a variety of sounds and three close calls—before we make it to Seth’s house. I should be worried about Mr. Mitchell, but all I can see is the damage to the Navarros’ place. The windows are smashed, and the door is torn off its hinges. There are horrible Spanish words spray-painted all over the stucco walls, and all I can think is thank goodness Miles got Rosa and Alejandro out before they joined Mom.
Seth’s house looks remarkably untouched in comparison, which now makes sickening sense. He glares at the lit window as he says, “You guys watch the perimeter—me and Fiona will go in.”
“Sounds good,” Hector replies. “Bea will yell if I hear anything out here.”
“Okay.” Seth takes my hand, and we walk up the path to his front door. Remembering the last time we faced his dad, my heart pounds as he pulls out his keys.
The house is quiet, save the humming of the refrigerator. We take cautious steps as we head for the kitchen. That’s when I hear the
clink
of glass on the counter. As we round the corner, Seth’s dad comes into view. He’s slumped over a bottle of hard liquor and a shot glass. Barely glancing at us, he says, “Don’t think I can’t take you out just because I’m drunk.”
Seth’s glare is cold. “Nice to see you, too.”
His dad points at Seth, his finger not swaying the littlest bit. Though judging by how little is left in the bottle, he must be hammered. “Don’t get smart with me, son. Because I’ve just about had it with all the trouble you and your little girlfriend have caused me—do you know how hard it is to cover your ass?”
Seth rolls his eyes. “Whatever. If you actually wanted to help, you would have told us what was up from the beginning.”
“And be executed?” Seth’s dad pours himself another shot and downs it. “Life’s shit, but it’s better than being dead.”
Seth balls his fists. If I don’t intervene, we’ll get nothing from this except broken bones. So I grab Seth’s arm and pull him back. “No offense, Mr. Mitchell, but I’m not here to talk life choices—you have to know The Phantom has my mother, and I need her back. Alejandro said you might have the codes to break into his base.”
“Oh?” Seth’s dad smirks. “So you’re here to convince me to hand them over?”
“Yes.”
He laughs as he pours yet another drink. “Did you not hear what I said? I prefer not dying. Who do you think he’ll assume gave you the codes?”
“There wouldn’t be any proof.”
“Proof.” Swig of liquor. “You’re a syndicate baby, dear Fiona, you know very well that proof is for courtrooms—and when was the last time any of these people saw one of those? I’d be dead just for being a suspect.”
I purse my lips, knowing he has me there.
“If you only care about yourself,” Seth’s voice is quiet, but still strong, “then why haven’t you told them all the stuff you
really
know? Should we tell The Phantom you forgot to mention the cave?”
Mr. Mitchell pauses. “You’d never give away that information.”
“But why didn’t you, Dad?” The pain on Seth’s face kills me. I can tell he wants his dad to say it’s because he cares. Maybe that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear from his father.
His dad’s eyes show no emotion when he replies, “Some information is worth more money than I get paid.”
“Liar,” I say before I can think better of it. “Tell yourself whatever you want—it’s obvious you’re protecting us. If you really wanted power and security in the syndicate, you’d rat us out because Juan would trust you forever if you sold out your own family.”
Mr. Mitchell raises an eyebrow. “Who says I haven’t?”
“What?” Seth says just as a piercing sound comes from outside. If it weren’t for the walls I’m sure my ears would be shot.
“Bea!” This could mean only one thing, and as I stare at Seth’s dad I can’t believe the smile he wears. “You knew we’d come here!”
“Of course you would. Crisis said your little Spud hadn’t gotten into the passwords yet. Alejandro got out.” He runs his finger around the lip of the shot glass. “It was only a matter of time. I waited up for you and everything.”
Seth swears. “Let’s get outta here. We’ll have to find another way.”
I nod, though I’m pretty sure his father has sentenced my mom to death. We head for the front door, but Mr. Mitchell lands in front of us, silent as a jaguar.
“Move!” Seth yells at him.
“Make me.”
Though I’m sure Seth knows he can’t beat his dad, he still throws a punch. Mr. Mitchell grabs his arm, pulls him closer, and then puts a hand around his neck. I jump in, trying to pry his fingers off, but he pushes me to the floor. As I watch Seth fight to get free, I feel helpless. Even if I strip down and try to surprise him, he could hurt Seth before I attack.
“I can crush his windpipe,” Mr. Mitchell says like it’s not his son he could murder. “So how about you tell your friends out there to surrender before that happens?”
He has me. And he knows it.
Pulling myself off the floor, I blink back tears. I look at my boyfriend’s pleading eyes, but I can’t do what he wants. I love him too much. “I’m sorry, Seth, I can’t let you get hurt.”
“That’s a good girl.” Seth’s dad nods toward the front door. “Now call off the attack.”
I head to the door, and they follow right behind me. Outside I’m met with a surprising amount of chaos. A half dozen of Juan’s men are down, clutching their heads from whatever Bea did to them. There is shrapnel everywhere, which doesn’t make sense until I realize Brady probably tried to destroy the guns instead of the people. That boy, good hearted even now. How did he come from such a twisted father?
The remaining thugs give Bea and Brady a wide berth while holding their hands to their ears. If it weren’t for Mr. Mitchell, we probably would have won this fight.
“Fiona! We’re kicking—” Carlos calls when he sees us on the porch, but then he realizes Seth’s dad has him by the throat and horror takes over.
Mr. Mitchell pulls a gun from his pocket and points it at me. This all feels way too familiar. “Tell them to come peacefully.”
I gulp, wishing I could say anything else. “It’s over, guys.”