Page 2
X
“You taking the piss?” Z’s voice took them by surprise.
“Oh, you’re here….” Squeeze squirmed. “Have you been listening?”
The three of us were sitting at the back of the room, taking notes. They’d all done incredibly well.
“We hear everything that’s said in here.” W said in a deep, dark impression of The Heritage Front leader. “You guys have been fantastic today. Well done! Remember what Qi said about a spy. He knows what he’s talking about, so be super careful! Any suggestions on who it could be, let one of us, one of the Alpha, know.”
I could feel it too; the invisible presence of someone watching, listening, waiting.
I stepped forward to join the group. “We have The Return, we have us three, we have all of you, if you’re in, and we also have The Twitchers, watching everything from behind their net curtains.”
“We want to control the infrastructure,” Z explained. “Even the food supply if we need to.”
He looked around suddenly serious. “It has to work. It has to be super-secret! No drones spotted. No girls compromised. If that happens, the game’s up. They’ll hunt us down, torture us, and dump us in some nondescript ditch next to the sewage farm.”
Just then, there was a knock on the outside door, a boy with a box of 3 pea-flavoured cookies for W.
“Something’s up,” said W, taking the box. “Must be urgent if Mary’s sending me these.”
Each took a cookie and bit it. The message was in Z’s. He read, “There’s just been a Heritage Front officer in, asking if anyone’s been trying to sell stolen paperwork. Ordering us all to keep an eye out and to let them know immediately.”
“My sister’s an excellent judge of character,” said W. “We need to verify this. Quietly.”
W’s gaze landed on Gretta and Squeeze. “Girls. You’re up. Find him, watch him, don’t let him see you.”
Ten minutes later, Gretta and Squeeze were cycling around the neighbourhood and spotted the officer. They dismounted and followed.
*****
Gretta
“I’ll give him one thing,” said Squeeze with a grin. “He’s got a nice arse. A nice wiggle.”
“Are you off your trolley? Arses like that don’t go for girls like us. He’s more Easter’s style, I reckon. Where’s he off to?”
The officer cut up the alley on the right of the mini-market. The girls both hesitated and looked at each other, paused, then went in too.
“… and I was saying to my aunty the other day how nice the town is looking, but bloody hell, this lane’s a bit of a state, isn’t it?”
“You’re not often wrong, but I tell you something, doll, you’re right again. It’s like a shithole. It stinks of piss down here! They could do with putting up some lights too. Hold up!”
Their target was shaking a scruffy homeless guy in a doorway. The officer suddenly threw him down, took a baton from his belt. The man’s screams ripped through the alley. The officer’s lips peeled back, his breath turning sharp as his grip tightened the baton landing again and again, thud after thud after thud.
“We’re trapped,” whispered Squeeze. “We can’t just walk past without drawing attention to ourselves. He could have a go at us.”
“I can’t fuckin’ believe it!” I said, throwing my hands up in the air, my bike falling against me. “I’ve left the shopping bag at the shop! What a fuckin’ idiot! Come on, we’ll need to go back for it. It’s got tonight’s supper in it.”
We just managed to keep the bikes upright as we turned them around. We could still hear the officer grunting with each blow as we made our way back to the street. I was pushing, Squeeze’s foot was on a pedal, ready to push off for a quick getaway.
“Fuckin’ hell, girl,” she said. “I need to sit down, my legs are shaking like a leaf.”
“Too right. Not the kind of knee trembler I’d like.”
When we got around the corner onto the street, Squeeze leaned against her bike frame, head down. “I can still hear it,” she whispered.
I just nodded; my own hands wouldn’t stop trembling. The officer’s wiggle was the last thing on my mind.
*****
The alpha were seething when we told them what had happened. X was worst.
“Right!” he said. “Y would have told us we were mad… We do this now, for him, and so these kids don’t end up in a ditch next to him.”
The decision was made.
*****
Over the next weeks and months, the whole team built up a wall of data for the factions’ properties, analysing risks, vulnerabilities, who was approachable, and who would shoot. Schematics marked where crucial materials were kept. The picture was coming together.
The operation started for real on Monday, May the fourteenth, not the Sunday. Some were still superstitious.
The goal: a 15-minute power cut, just long enough for Donny Pie’s bots to access the security cameras around both Heritage Front and New Tomorrow HQs.
Time to turn all the planning into reality.
Enjoying these stories? Try the book.
Donny Pie
Everything was a go; contacts at Rosehaven General Hospital alerted, check. Comms disrupted, check. The airspace was mine, check.
I hovered above the courtyard, fingers tight on the controller. Wobbled slightly in the morning wind; my thumb twitched on the joystick. Compensate. Steady. On my screen, the world was a silent, grayscale ballet.
Below me, Gretta and Squeeze moved into position, crouched like bored teenagers. They were about to witness chaos the right way. They were talking to a guard, keeping him out of my sightline. They took him around the corner. Good. But any second another patrol could appear, glance up, notice the drone and our little army would be exposed.
Another window showed Ratdad’s feed, blurry and dusty beneath the floor. He scuttled through the vent, tiny paws padding silently. Monkey Boy’s dogs lined up outside the alley, ears up, waiting for the signal. I could see everything: guards pacing their routes, shadows shifting. The main conduit, a fat, pulsing, glowing target.
Timing was everything. My mouth was dry. I keyed the mic. “Standby… standby… now.”
On the dog feed, Monkey Boy’s hand dropped, and the dogs surged forward, barking like hounds from hell.
The courtyard exploded into chaos. Guards scrambled. Some trying to fend them off, some running, one even tossing the dogs biscuits.
On Ratdad’s feed, a set of keys gleamed in a drawer. A tiny paw hooked them. Retrieval confirmed.
My eyes flicked to the power grid overlay. The countdown hit zero. I sent the kill signal. The entire courtyard block went dark. Not a flicker. A deep, swallowing silence. The barking sounded louder.
I love it when a plan comes together.
My bots swarmed the security cameras, a digital swarm flowing into the blind spots. Data streamed across my screen.
Access granted. Downloading. 10%… 40%…
I saw Gretta and Squeeze wander away on the main screen, even their grins visible.
But I stayed in the zone, scanning the courtyard, monitoring the drone feed, guiding each movement.
The guards were shouting, chasing imaginary threats, flashlights trying to make sense of it all.
They thought it was a simple outage. They never looked up. 85%… 90%… Come on, come on.
A new alert blinked red on the edge of my screen. Anomalous signal. Unauthorised ping.
Was it the spy? A patrol on an unscheduled route?
No time. Focus. I guided every move.
My heart hammered against my ribs. No time. 95%… “Wrap it up!” I hissed into the mic, my voice cracking with a panic I didn’t recognize.
The last of the dogs slipped back into the alleyways, and Ratdad vanished under the floorboards. My bots finished and self-deleted. 100%. Transfer complete.
I exhaled, my hands still trembling.
I guided the drone up, up, into the morning cloud cover. On the street below, the lights flickered back on. The 15-minute window closed. From a thousand feet up, the city looked calm. Peaceful. Completely unaware of the miniature war that had just been waged.
After we got back to the workshop, my hands finally stopped buzzing from the tension. I led the debrief, my voice steady again. We’d done it. We’d really done it. In a way, I was glad that I was at a distance from the action. I’m not sure if I could handle being as up close and personal as the others. We do complement each other very well, though.
But at the back of my mind, a pixel blinked: Anomalous signal. Unidentified.
*****
The same overhead beam lit up the latest project. Prototypes still loomed in the shadows. But we’d need a bigger table. Change was in the air.
X
Later, I watched the team go their separate ways.
Gretta and Squeeze bought ice cream, heads bent in conspiratorial chatter. Easter walked home, his toolbox swinging with a spring in his step that was pure Y. Monkey Boy crouched to give Ratdad a biscuit, whispering praise. Donny Pie stood apart, staring at his screen. The tense line of his shoulders was gone, but his eyes still flicked to every corner..
They all breathed easier. So did I.
In HQs across the city, they’d blame a fuse. A faulty switch. The weather. Not one of them suspected us.
Just the way we liked it.
Back in the workshop, the hum of the soldering iron swallowed the last echoes of laughter.
W was the first to break the quiet.
“Y would’ve loved this.”
No one spoke. I shook my head. He’d have hated it, I thought. The noise, the flirting, the mess. But he’d have come around.
Z’s voice was soft. “The kids aren’t just helping. They’re leading.”
I nodded. We adapt. That’s what we do.
The soldering iron hummed. Somewhere, a faint laugh echoed and died.
Outside, the town was peaceful. Calm. Orderly.
I glanced at W and Z. “Same time tomorrow?”
They nodded.
And I knew we would.
Page 2
If you enjoyed this story, buy me a coffee 🙂
Download Roseistance
Not sure what to pick?”
- Phone / tablet? → Read online
- Kindle / e-reader? → Choose EPUB
- Want to print it? → Choose PDF
- All the stories together?→ Buy