way past Marcellus and Alouette. “Make way. Coming through.” He interlaced his fingers together, extended his arms, and squatted down, creating a makeshift step. “Right this way.” He nodded toward Cerise with a smug expression. “Ladies first.”
For once, Cerise did not argue with him. Holding on to Gabriel’s shoulders for balance, she tucked her foot into his hands.
“I’d just like to point out, for the record,” Gabriel said with a grunt as he hoisted her up to the top of the wall, “that this was my idea, and I am helping the team with a very necessary skill.”
Cerise grabbed onto the top of the wall. “Yes, yes, well done. You make an excellent step stool.”
Gabriel gave Cerise a final push, which turned out to be just the slightest bit too hard. She was flung over the top of the wall and a moment later, they heard her land with an “oomph” on the other side.
“I did not appreciate that!” Cerise called back.
But Gabriel ignored her, already extending his hands out for Alouette. She disappeared over the top, landing with a much more innocuous sound.
“I most certainly did not sanction his visit!” the general thundered, and through Marcellus’s audio patch, he could almost hear the walls of his grandfather’s office trembling. “The stupide, worthless boy has hoodwinked you all. You must apprehend him immediately.”
“Your turn, Officer.” Gabriel proffered his makeshift step to Marcellus.
Marcellus glanced anxiously between Gabriel and the wall. “What about you?”
“Don’t you worry about me. Criminal mastermind, remember? Climbing is second nature to me. Only surefire way to escape a droid. Now, hop on.”
Pounding footsteps echoed from behind them. The door to the courtyard slammed open, and in the doorway stood Lady Alexander, the monoglass over her left eye glowing. “Don’t worry, General,” she said with a glare. “We have visual on him now. He will not get away.”
“Go!” Gabriel screeched.
Marcellus stepped into his hands, and suddenly he was flying. Gabriel was stronger than he looked. Marcellus grabbed for the top of the wall to try to slow his descent, but he only managed to scrape up his palms and knees in the process. He crash-landed on the grassy lawn on the other side, rolling twice before coming to a stop in front of Alouette who helped him swiftly to his feet.
He could hear Lady Alexander’s voice screaming from inside the courtyard. It was the most ruffled Marcellus had heard her since they’d arrived. “Security! Send all available guards to the Filbright Wing! We have a breach! I repeat a breach in the Hampstead courtyard.”
A second later, Gabriel landed expertly in a crouch and beckoned to the rest of the group. “Follow me!”
They took off along the back side of the building. The skies above were now completely dark and lights from nearby windows cast long golden shadows on the pathways.
“I don’t understand,” the general was now saying in Marcellus’s audio patch. “How did he even find out we were working together? He would have had to …” His grandfather’s voice trailed off only to return a moment later in the form of a low, menacing growl. “I will get right back to you, Lady Alexander. In the meantime, find him.”
Suddenly, sirens breached the night air, calling out across the complex. Above Marcellus’s head, a parade of stark white search lights began to swoop over the darkened ground.
“Move!” Gabriel shouted as he darted across a grassy quad and down another shadowy, stone-flagged walkway with Marcellus, Cerise, and Alouette following close behind. Marcellus had no idea where they were running to. But he prayed Gabriel did.
Then, a moment later, Marcellus heard a fifth set of footsteps. Not behind them. Not pursuing them. But inside his head. The footsteps were coming from his audio patch, and they were accompanied by the sound of objects crashing to the ground.
His grandfather was searching for something.
Gabriel slowed at the edge of the next building, finding a narrow sliver of darkness between the glowing range of the search lights. He held up a hand and they all careened to a stop behind him. He crept forward and peered around the corner, scouting his route and waiting for a clear opening.
In his audio patch, Marcellus heard the scrape of a chair leg, the squeal of a drawer being yanked open, followed by the crash of something—perhaps a lamp—being overturned. They were the sounds of an office being ransacked. Scoured. Torn apart.
He knows I’ve been listening.
The general’s footsteps soon quieted, and all Marcellus could hear was the