Going Rogue (23 page)

Élodie rolled her eyes. “You two take forever explaining this,” she said. “I’ll do it.” She set her cup down and looked squarely at Jesse, Roux, and me. “When we went to school here, we used the tunnels under Paris to set up film festivals and art shows, and we snuck into old cultural buildings to repair them without the government’s knowledge.” She sat back in her seat, satisfied. “See? I did it in one sentence.”

“What do you mean, you
repaired
them?” Roux asked. “What, like you fix their lights or something?”

“Or something,” Ryo and Ames chorused.

“There are some buildings in Paris that will get attention,” Ryo added. “The Louvre, for example. It’s a massive tourist site and it has the
Mona Lisa
, of course, so the government will always pay for repairs.”

“Its security is absolute crap, though,” Élodie added.

“True,” Ames said. “But Ryo is right. It’s in fine condition. But we think that maybe there are other things that are also worth a bit of our attention. So we fix them up, show them a night on the town, and we do it all without even a thank-you. Rude, I know, but hey.” He let out a sad sigh. “Being a merry band of artistic criminals has its own special set of perks.”

“So you repair things and you use the tunnels to access buildings?” Jesse asked.

“Mostly, yes. We set up shop in different buildings.” Élodie smiled to herself. “We used to have this little saying: If it’s already been created, it must be possible to re-create. That is what we wanted to do, re-create parts of Paris. But then we joined the Collective and we came back and found that all of the work we had done in school was destroyed.” She looked so sad. “We forget that not everyone sees things the same way, but
they
are the idiots. You can appreciate the past and still have an iPhone, you know. It is not difficult.”

“Did you—I mean, do you know my parents?” I asked them.

“Your parents are so cool.” Roux sighed dreamily. “Can we swap, please? Or can they just adopt me?”

“Oh, we’ve never met,” Ryo assured me. “We’ve only met Angelo.”

“He used to provide a bit of financial backing,” Ames said. “For tools and such. And a nice establishment to stay in every now and then. We’re very picky about our chandeliers, as you can imagine. No thief worth their weight in gold would settle for any old bulb.”

Jesse smiled to himself and ran a hand over his eyes. “Maggie.” He sighed. “We’re never going to get bored, are we?”

I ignored his comment, though. I had never missed my parents as much as I did right then.

“Now it’s our turn for some questions,” Élodie said. “What did you do to piss off the Collective? Because if you’re here with us, there’s a reason.”

“What did Angelo tell you?” I asked, not sure of how much to say. I had tucked the gold coins into my pillowcase, hidden from everyone else, but I could still feel their weight in my hand, the way they clinked together.

“That you might be here one day,” Ryo said. “He didn’t mention your friends, obviously.”

“A very nice surprise,” Ames added, smiling at Roux. “And you, too, Jesse, of course.”

“Hey, no offense,” Jesse said, smiling a little. “Feel free to keep eye-flirting with Roux. You’re not hurting my feelings.”

Roux groaned. “You’re
such
a mood killer, Jesse, seriously.”

“So you must have something of Dominic’s,” Ryo guessed. “Seeing as how you’re the official safecracker of the group.”

“I have several of his things that he wants back. But he stole them from someone else.”

“Plural? Them?” Élodie asked.

I took a deep breath and dug my hands into my pockets. “Are you sure you want to know about this? Because if you do, we have to all be in this together.”

Ames gestured to the table. “We already are. Breaking bread in Paris is a sure sign of team loyalty.”

I stood up. “Be right back,” I said, then came back a minute later with the velvet pouch. “Go ahead,” I said, handing them to Élodie. “Be my guest.”

She took it and shook the coins out, her eyes widening at the sight of them. “Are these … ?” she started to say.

“Yes,” I told her, knowing the recognition in her eyes. “They are.”

Ames’s eyes lit up when he saw them, but Ryo just furrowed his brow. “The double-eagle gold coin,” he said. “How do you know these aren’t fake?”

“The fact that someone sent a crew of hitmen to try and kill us after I took them was kind of a tip-off.”

“Shame, really,” Ames said. “The Collective used to be so admirable.” He picked up one coin, then rolled it over the back of his fingers before making it disappear into his palm. “Oops,” he said, then made it reappear. “Gotta work on that one.”

“How much are these worth?” Jesse asked. “Like, roughly?”

“About seventy million dollars,” I said, and Roux leaned away from the table like the coins might suddenly bite her. “Roughly.”

Ryo let out a low whistle. “And Dominic wants them back, I assume?”

“Yep,” I said. “And since the Collective accused my parents of stealing the coins, my family and I probably won’t be too safe if that happens. Not to mention
your
safety, as well.”

“Right, so we’re all dead, then,” Ames said cheerfully. “Drink up!”

“So what we do?” Roux asked. “Call him up and say, ‘Hey, let’s arrange a trade.’” I knew she was kidding, but she had a point.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve always taken things, I’ve never had to give them back before. And these are technically stolen material,” I added, and Ryo nodded along with me. “Angelo said that they were taken from the US Mint in 1933, so that’s partly why they’re so valuable. The Secret Service has arranged stings to get them back before. So there’s that, too.”

“The fun just keeps coming, doesn’t it.” Jesse groaned. “What else, do they explode? Are they really tiny grenades?”

I made a face at him and he gave me a goofy smile in return. “No,” I said. “They’re just gold coins. That people really want. A lot.”

“Has Dominic asked for them back yet?” Ryo asked me.

“Well, I don’t know, we’re not exactly on speaking terms right now,” I said. “I mean, I lost his cell, then I e-mail him and it takes him three weeks to write back, then the next thing you know it’s finals week and I’m just a mess.”

Élodie smirked at Ryo. “I like her.”

“What I
meant
to say,” Ryo said, bumping Élodie’s leg with his knee while giving me a sarcastic look, “was that he’s going to find this place and come calling. It’s more of a when than an if, innit?”

Ryo had a point. “Probably,” I admitted.

“Angelo will know what to do,” Ames said, picking up another coin and rolling it around on his left hand this time. “He’ll make demands through someone.”

“He called when you were sleeping, by the way,” Ryo said. “He said that Dominic is not in Paris. Yet, anyway. That’s all he knew. He knows you have the coins, though, and without you, he doesn’t get them. So we’re all right now, at least for a day or two.”

I felt a small twinge of jealousy when Ryo said that Angelo had called, but I let it slide. “I can’t imagine Dominic is happy about that,” I muttered. “I don’t think he’s used to having his toys taken away.”

“Yes, the Collective doesn’t like to lose,” Ames said, the first time I had heard a trace of any anger in his voice. “Look at Colton Hooper. He spent ten years trying to kidnap you.”

“You heard about him?” I asked, and they all nodded.

“Can I just say that breaking his nose was so satisfying?” Roux chimed in. “Because I did. There was blood everywhere, like,
gushing
out—”

“Roux,” I said, still wincing at the memory. Blood was not my strong suit.

“Good on ya,” Ames said, smiling at her.

And then Roux did something I have never seen her do before: she blushed. It was faint in the low light, but her cheeks pinked up and she ducked her head away. Ames just kept smiling at her and I looked away, suddenly feeling like I needed to give them privacy.

“Can I see the tunnels?” I asked tentatively. I wanted to see where my parents had been, their old home back when they were my age. I wanted to feel connected to them in this crazy new world of ours where nothing felt safe at all.

“Yeah, enough about the Collective!” Ames declared. “We already know what our guests here do, breaking locks and noses and bread and everything in between. Let’s show them how we travel through Paris.” He held out his hand to Roux, who took it like he was holding out a lit firecracker. “It’s time for a little show-and-tell.”

“If you think I’m going down there, you’re crazy.”

Roux stood with her arms crossed in front of her, shivering a little in Ames’s coat. I was standing next to her, wearing one of Élodie’s sweaters while Jesse had his hoodie zipped up to his throat. “You don’t exactly get to pack when you’re on the run,” I told Élodie when we slipped out the back door of the building, avoiding the front door entirely and instead going through a basement door that had the same archaic lock on it. Ames opened it in less than a minute, using a tiny tool that fit in his palm, and I watched in amazement as he clicked through all four locks as Jesse laughed under his breath.

“You need to teach me how to use that thing,” I said, trying not to look too impressed.

“Relax,” Ames said, patting me on the shoulder as we went through the door. “I might be able to pick locks, but you’re still the safecracker.”

The six of us went down the street toward a Métro
entrance, but instead of entering the underground station, Ryo took a right and went easily through what looked like a janitor-style door. Élodie followed him, and we followed her and found ourselves suddenly in a tight space that left little room to breathe and even less to move. It was slightly damp and very cool, much cooler than outside, and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the light.

“Is it a bad time to mention that I’m claustrophobic?” Roux asked, her voice small.

“You’re claustrophobic?” Jesse asked.

“I didn’t know that until just now,” she said. “Are the walls moving? I feel like they’re moving.”

“Easy, darlin’,” Ames said. His voice sounded so kind when he talked to her. I had never heard anyone speak to Roux that way before, and it was nice to hear. “We just need to go down this grate.” He pointed at a small set of iron bars in the ground, a pool of water splashing underneath.

Roux looked at it for a bit. “Nope,” she finally said. “I’ll just wait here. If I see Dominic, well, it was a good run and I had some fun and—”

Ames bent down and moved the grate, only he didn’t just move the bars, he moved the entire thing, water and all. It was an illusion, I realized, simply a tray of water designed to look like a normal hole in the ground.

“Rolling tray,” he said. “It keeps others from finding our secret passageways. Not to brag, but I invented this contraption.”

“Aren’t they all secret passageways?” Jesse asked as relief crossed Roux’s face.

“Some more than others,” Ryo said. “Ladies first.”

Roux and I followed Élodie down the rabbit hole and dropped into a much drier tunnel. This one had electric bulbs lining the ceiling and while it was still dirty, it felt almost civilized. “These are
our
tunnels,” Élodie said. “Or I should say
your
tunnels. Your parents are the ones who found them.”

“We are going to have such a serious talk when I see them again,” I said, but the thought of when I would see them again made my heart twist and I shoved the thought out of my mind.
They must know where I am
, I thought.
This is as much my history as the Collective is. Home is where your family is, and my parents had once been here.

We walked along, Jesse sometimes reaching up and tapping at the lightbulbs. “I didn’t think there’d be light down here,” he admitted. “I was picturing mining caps or like when we went down into that secret platform at Grand Central Station.”

Ames turned around, his eyes wide. “You saw that? I thought that was just an urban legend.”

“It’s the real deal,” Roux said. “We were there.”

“What’s it like?”

“Dirty.”

Ames smiled at her and reached out to ruffle her hair, but Roux ducked away. “Careful,” I said. “She knows tae kwon do.”

“I’m missing my class today, actually,” Roux said. “But this is way better.”

“Ryo put in the lights,” Élodie said, taking his arm and
finally answering my silent question of whether or not they were a couple. “He’s the electrician of our group.”

“And what do you do?” I asked, tucking my hand into Jesse’s hoodie pocket as we walked along.

“Cartography,” she said. “Mapmaking. I help map out the tunnels for everyone. Well, not everyone. Just a select few.”

“And you?” I nodded at Ames.

“Your local horologist, at your service,” Ames said, bowing a little.

“Your local
what
?” Roux said. “What did you just say?”

“
H
, not
wh
, darlin’,” Ames said, but there was a twinkle in his eye. “And it’s a fancy word for clock maker. I fix gears, get things going again.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Roux, and she burst out laughing

“That’s what they call clock repair people?” She giggled. “That’s the worst name ever! That sounds like the scientific name for a pimp!”

Ames’s cheeks had gone red all the way to the tips of his ears. “We can’t pick the names of our calling,” he said. “Unfortunately.”

“I think I’ll call you Gear Man,” Roux said, patting his shoulder and making Ames go even redder. “That’s much more flattering.”

“A lot of people like to use the tunnels for partying or drinking, things like that,” Ryo said. “Which is great and all, but we use them as a means to an end. The partying helps give us a nice cover, though.” He shot a grin over his shoulder at us. “You should know something about blending in.”

I grinned back. “All too well,” I said. I had to admit that it was nice to talk to other people who knew about the Collective, who also had secret lives. I never got to discuss my life with near strangers before. “This is sort of a new experience,” I said, “talking about spying and the Collective with you. I like it, it’s different.”