Mae descended into the darkness, navigating only by the flickering light of a squat candle melted onto a wooden dish. The stairs creaked with each step, guiding her through a crude door into a dusty basement. Once inside she set the candle down on a simple table in front of Arte and Angel, then sat down beside them.

Angel looked at the candle and said, “You weren’t kidding when you said New Tepan was a dump. How do people put up with living like this?”

Mae shrugged. “They don’t think there’s a choice in the matter, and Thirteen does everything in their power to keep it that way. This is basically what the low tech version of federals looks like.”

“I suppose that’s true.” She sighed. “If you asked a month ago, this is what I would have said Class Bs lived like, assuming I thought about them at all.”

“To be fair, I’m sure a lot of the people living here are Class Bs,” Mae said. “Not everyone made it into associations after the Exile. It happened so suddenly no one had time to prepare. The gangs were quick to take advantage of the situation.”

“That… must have been rough.”

Mae shrugged. “It was a long time ago, and I think most of us got the better end of the deal.”

“Should we go over the plan again?” Arte said. “It’s almost time to begin, isn’t it?”

“Good idea,” Mae said with a smile, then sighed. “And I’ve got to admit, Abel did a fantastic job putting it together. I guess that nerd is more useful than I thought. Anyway”—she pulled a paper tube from a bag by the table and unrolled it, revealing a detailed map of the Martinez estate—“he found an unpatched security exploit in the climate control, which will allow him to force a short in the central air pump here.”

She tapped a square on the map labeled as such, then on an adjacent circle. “Which so happens to share a room with the main conduit for the security cameras. Mr. Martinez is not the sort of man to put up with a malfunctioning AC, especially in this weather, so his staff will immediately send for a tech.”

“And that’s where we come in?” Arte said.

“Exactly. I put a tap on the local tower, so when they call out I’ll intercept and pretend to be the firm they’re looking for. I will, of course, be all too happy to get a crew out as soon as possible, which will be your queue to drive out there.”

“Are they really going to mistake me for a man in this suit?” Angel said, motioning to her coveralls.

“Of course,” Mae said. “Just don’t take off your hat, and try not to look anyone in the eye. Once you’re inside, someone should lead you to the machine, where hopefully they’ll leave you to your work. If not, Angel, you’re going to have to figure out how to distract whoever’s in there long enough for Arte to install the interrupt.”

“Not that I know much about computer stuff,” Arte said. “But won’t it be kind of obvious if I unplug all their cameras, even for a few seconds?”

“Almost definitely,” Mae said. “And there’s a good chance they’ll conduct an investigation, and even inform Mr. Martinez. However, as long as it takes at least twenty minutes, I should be able to get in and out long before anyone even thinks of warning Senator Martel.”

“But if there’s a security problem, won’t they stop us from leaving?”

“That’s why you need to fix the short first,” Mae said. “Abel included all the necessary instructions. As soon as it’s done, install the interrupt then get out asap. Don’t go too fast though, or you might make them suspicious.”

“Right… of course.”

“Also”—Mae laughed—“if you’ve made it to the truck, and it looks like they aren’t going to let you leave, be prepared to haul ass through the gate and out the city.”

“What about you?” Angel said. “We can’t leave you behind.”

“Never you worry kid.” Mae smiled. “I made my own arrangements. In any case, you guys head straight to the rendezvous when you’re done. The Raptor will land the moment you’re in position.”

“I… guess that’s it then,” Arte said. “All that’s left… is to do it.”

“Nervous?” Mae said. He nodded, and she pat his hand. “Don’t sweat it. All you have to do is what you’ve been doing your whole life, getting called in to fix something. Think of this like a normal repair job.”

Arte took a deep breath, then said, “Alright, let’s go.”

Mae stood, then pulled Arte to his feet. “Knock ‘em dead, kids.” She slapped his back, then helped Angel stand. “Now get the heck out of here.”

Arte and Angel left the room and climbed the stairs, passing through a dark hallway before entering a paved courtyard. The moon shone on a well stocked work truck parked nearby. It was worn around the edges, like everything else in New Tepan, but was otherwise in good repair. The two climbed into the cabin, started the engine, and buckled up.

“A-are you sure you know how to drive this?” Angel said.

Arte blushed, then said. “P-pretty sure. Mae showed me how it works, and I think I got enough practice.” He peered down the empty road past the open gate in front of them. “Thankfully we’ll be the only ones driving around at night. I’m not sure how I’d feel about doing this in traffic.”

Angel tightened her seatbelt. “Just don’t go too fast.”

They waited in silence a few minutes before Arte got a message on his phone. He put the truck in gear then slowly rolled onto the street. His route took them a fair distance from the estate before turning in and coming up the main strip. There were no street lamps, and the houses along the side offered only the occasional flicker of a few errant candles, leaving the moon and his own headlights as the sole source of illumination.

Arte slowed to a crawl on several occasions, to allow a motley assortment of wild animals to pass, and wasn’t much faster when the road was clear. Nevertheless, it didn’t take long to arrive at the front gate of the Martinez estate. He stopped beside a squat box attached to the front gate and glanced at the armed guard contained within. The man approached as Arte rolled down his window.

“I’m from QuickFix Heating and Air,” Arte said. “I believe you scheduled an expedited service with us?”

The man looked him over, then down at a tablet in his hand. “Yeah, they called it in a few minutes ago.” He tapped a button on the pad, raising the gate, then waved them along. “Maintenance goes in the back.”

Arte closed his window and drove on, releasing a deep breath when the guard was out of sight. “So far, so good.” He maneuvered the truck through the estate, taking it around the wide and flat main building until he reached a small parking lot. A man stormed over from a nearby door, and before Arte could finish squeezing the truck into a narrow space he was already staring them down cross armed and tapping his feet.

The moment Arte opened the door, the man ran up. “You’re here for the air, right?”

“Yes sir,” Arte said.

He clicked his tongue and said, “The boss will not appreciate having issues with brand new hardware. You better not expect him to pay for fixing your shoddy product.”

“Of course not,” Arte said.

“And furthermore—“

“You gonna wag your tongue ‘till the sun comes up, or you gonna take us to the unit?” Angel said. She’d lowered the tone of her voice, which gave it a gravely quality. The man was too taken aback to find it odd, and merely huffed in response. “Go along then, lead the way.”

The man did as instructed, waiting by the house while they gathered the necessary tools and supplies and loaded them into a handcart. They followed him inside, entering the manor by way of a long hallway abounding with luxurious decor. Gold trimmed cases displayed fine statues and exotic jewelry.

He led them through the wide corridors, clicking impatiently if they loitered so much as a half step to admire a particularly impressive piece. After a few hasty twists and turns, they approached the stairwell that would lead them to the utility level. Before they reached the door, a well dressed man appeared from a nearby junction.

“You, Barnes,” he said to the man leading them.

Their guide snapped to attention and answered, “How may I help you, Mr. Martel.” Arte and Angel shared a panicked look, then quickly found something very interesting to study on the wall.

“The air went out in my room,” the Senator said. “And I should like it seen to before the temperature increases.”

“Without question, sir,” Barnes said. “Such an illustrious guest of Master Martinez deserves only the finest our house has to offer. We’ve already summoned a crew to address the issue.” He motioned to Arte and Angel, who held steadfast in examining a particularly ugly painting.

Martel looked them over, then said, “I expect immediate results.”

“Of course, sir,” Arte said without turning.

Martel walked closer, glaring at Arte. After a long moment, he huffed and said, “Class Bs really are a miserable, uncultured lot.” He turned and strode a way, throwing, “Hopefully your mechanical aptitude is of a higher caliber than your dignity, though perhaps that’s asking too much from refuse,” over his shoulder before disappearing from view.

Barnes clicked his tongue, and said, “Such disrespectful behavior will not reflect well on your company, and your defective machinery has already put you on thin ice.”

“And wasting our time on mindless blather reflects even worse on you,” Angel said.

The butler hissed in disgust, but otherwise remained silent as he motioned for them to follow. They descended one level, and were ushered into a narrow room overflowing with machinery and tangled with endless pipes and cables.

Arte froze momentarily, a flash of concern passed his eyes before he begin the delicate trek through the jungle of conduits. He wiggled through the narrow gap between two pumps, arriving at a large, empty space. Arte studied the area for several seconds, as though hoping something would materialize to fill the void.

“Did they send the retard or something?” Barnes scoffed. “You imbeciles installed the new unit a month ago, right over there.” He motioned to a machine on the opposite side of a bundle of wire and pipe dividing the room.

Arte clambered over, then examined the machine. His eyes scanned up and down until they settled on a placard describing its make and model. Relief flushed his face as he took in the details. It was the expected machine, even if it was installed with the front butting against the wall. Arte sighed and took a tablet from his belt, pulling up the schematics.

“Don’t tell me—“Barnes cut off when Arte glared at him.

“That’s enough whining.” Arte turned to Angel and said, “Grab the wrench set and the number ten socket.”

Angel was struck motionless a second, before snapping into action. She set up the tool cart and started digging inside, briefly scanning the labels with each step. Meanwhile, Arte set about disconnecting power from the machine, then swooped in and plucked the tools from her hands.

He removed the back panel, then proceeded to dismantle most of the internals, swapping out various tools as needed. He reached the charred piece up front in a matter of minutes, and near as quickly had the unit repaired and reassembled, save the final panel in the rear.

He reattached the power cable, then flipped a heavy switch jammed uncomfortably close to another machine. The device whirred to life, pumping air and coolant through internal components with a low rumble.

Barnes gave Arte a reluctant but appreciative hum. “I suppose you possess a modicum of competence after all.”

Arte glanced at him, then wormed through the packed room to the cart so he was standing close to Angel. He held her eyes and said, “I am going to give it a few minutes to make sure everything is working.” He turned away from Barnes and grabbed a small black case from the toolbox while blocking sight of the motion with his body.

While he worked his way back through the crowded pipes, Angel darted her gaze over to Barnes, then slowly turned in place. Her eyes flitted between different items in the room while her face grew increasingly lost. Eventually, they landed back on Barnes. After a few seconds of watching him watch Arte, she took a sharp breath and threw off her hat with a sweeping motion. She shook out her hair and let out a loud sigh.

Barnes glanced at the sudden motion, then doubled back and stared in shock. Angel strut towards him, lowering the front zipper of her coveralls enough to show a bit of cleavage.

“W-wha—“Barnes choked off with a squeak as she slipped into his space. She looked up with hungry eyes.

“My brother always drags me along for emergency calls,” she said as she leaned into him, putting her face inches from his own. “And they are such a terrible bore.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I wish at least once I could do something a little fun on them.” She smiled and tilted her head. “You know?”

Barnes flushed red. “I-I….” He started to glance at Arte, but Angel stilled his face with her other hand, pulling even closer.

“I bet you can think of a few exciting ideas for what we cou—“Angel was interrupted when Arte pulled her away by the collar. He piled her hair on top of her head and pinned it in place with her discarded cap.

“Please excuse my sister,” Arte said. “Father tried to instill discipline, but she yearns for trouble even now.”

Before Barnes could answer, Arte replaced the rear panel, packed the tools, and rolled the cart out of the room with Angel in tow. The butler scrambled after them a few seconds later, flushed with embarrassment. Angel was in a similar state, with brilliant red skin reaching well below her neck.

The pair continued at a rapid pace, moving too quickly for Barnes to catch up without risking his dignity. They were through the rear door and loading the truck before he made it outside, and Angel surreptitiously climbed into the passenger seat on the other side while Barnes moved to intercept Arte.

“Wait,” Barnes said, standing between Arte and the door.

“The repair was under warranty.” Arte slipped around him and started climbing in. “Please call again if you have any further troubles.” He shut the door and started the engine, then put the truck in gear and rolled away before Barnes could work out something to say. When they turned the corner and out of sight, Arte looked at Angel and said, “W-where’d you get the idea to try that?”

Angel laughed awkwardly and replied, “I watched a lot of old spy movies growing up, and it seemed like something Jane Bond would do.”

“Ah… I see,” Arte said.

Angel laughed again and said, “You have no idea who Jane Bond is, do you?”

Arte chuckled nervously. “To be honest, I’m not even sure what a movie is.”

“What! Really?”

“Well, I suspect it’s some kind of video entertainment, but I’ve never seen one.”

Angel shook her head. “How is that possible? What did you do for fun growing up?”

Arte shrugged. “Read books on my phone, mostly. It came with a nice little collection which I went through a few times.”

“Is that normal for associates?”

“I don’t know, really, but I doubt it.”

“I suddenly have so many questions about your childhood,” she said. “Though I suppose that can wait until after we’re out the front gate.” She motioned to the approaching barrier.

Arte pulled up to the security booth and lowered his window while the guard took a position beside it. Arte smiled at him. “Just finished up.”

The guard looked at his tablet, then back up at Arte. “Sure thing. Wait here a minute while I raise the gate.”

Arte nodded as the man slowly turned and walked away. A buzz came from his pocket, and he pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. A message flashed over it. “Drive. Now.”

Arte slammed the truck into gear and punched the accelerator. A metal rod shot from the ground into his rear bumper as they passed, sending them wobbling down the road. Arte stabilized their course after a few hundred feet.

“The map, please,” Arte said as he tossed his phone to Angel.

She grabbed it off the seat before it slid to the floor and looked at it, then yelled, “Duck!” She pushed Arte’s head down as a bullet whizzed through the back windshield.

They stayed hunched over while Arte zigzagged down the road, evading most of the incoming fire from the estate. He swerved onto a side street and straightened up. “The map!”

Angel uncurled then quickly swiped through to the navigation app. She poked her head just above the bottom of the windshield, then pointed towards an approaching intersection and said, “Take a left there!” The phone buzzed and she looked back, then added, “And hurry! Enforcers are on their way.”

Arte tore down the road, dodging carts and stalls left out for the night in between making wild turns. He made it two streets before they were intercepted by an old pickup with a pair of men in the back. They were armed with automatic rifles, and started shooting the moment the truck was in view. Arte smashed the gas to the floor, squealing the tires before they took off with a lurch.

“There’s more coming up that street!” Angel yelled. “Cut left here.”

Arte took a hard turn, skidding the rear wheels and barely hanging on with the front as they changed directions. They bounced off a packed up stand on the sidewalk, scattering an eclectic collection of trinkets and baubles into the air.

“Sorry!” Arte yelped as he dragged the truck into the center lane. A few seconds later one of their pursuers came screeching up the same road. After it stabilized, the men in the back stood and braced themselves on the cab, then started firing. Arte zigzagged down the road without slowing, borderline out of control.

Angel lay to her side, bracing against the console, while Arte did his best to shrink below the windshield without losing sight in front of him.

“There’s another right coming up,” Angel said. “But you’ve gotta keep up the speed.”

Arte grit his teeth and nodded. He touched the brake as he approached the next street, then took as wide a turn as possible. The truck teetered on two tires during the arc, but was knocked back to all four when it slammed into a stone wall.

When they finished rocking back and forth, Angel said, “We’re almost to the rendezvous. No more sharp turns, just a few gentle rights and lefts.”

Arte nodded, and lay back into the accelerator, fighting the increasingly violent wobble coming through the steering wheel. He soared through an intersection, swerving to avoid a misplaced cabbage cart. He clipped the handles, sending it spiraling behind them. One of their pursuers took it dead on, scattering vegetables to the sky.

They breezed through the next junction, and Angel said, “We’re almost there! The clearing is after the next cross-street.”

As they approached the incoming intersection, another pickup was careening towards them up the righthand prong of a y-junction. Arte stared it down, but kept on the gas, hugging the right side of the road. At the last second he veered down the left prong. The other truck clipped their righthand rear corner, sending them into a tailspin. They stopped by slamming into a parked car, tangling the metal together.

Arte shook off the impact first and tried his door. When it didn’t open he leaned over Angel and shoved the passenger side open, then half-pushed half-carried her out with him while she was lost in a daze.

“A little further!” Arte said as he dragged her into a run beside him. She trailed at first, but eventually recovered enough match his pace. By some luck the men from Thirteen were forced to a screeching halt at the last intersection to avoid a collision, but the brief respite lasted less than a minute before the pickups were back on them.

Arte and Angel entered a wide clearing while their pursuers were maneuvering around the crashed work truck. The Raptor dropped in a second later, stopping a few feet off the ground while the side door slid open. Arte hoisted Angel inside before clambering in behind her. The enforcers skid to a stop outside the clearing and fired, sending a few bullets bouncing through the rear cabin before the entrance snapped shut.

Arte slumped against the wall next to Angel, releasing a heavy breath as the craft soared away. He said, “That… was too close.”

Angel turned to him with a smile, but suddenly bolted upright and yelled, “Arte! You’re bleeding.”

Arte looked down and tapped a dark splotch on his coveralls. His fingers came away slick with blood. “Ah… so I am.”

“We have to do something!”

Arte’s face started to pale, and he slowly gazed around the room. “I suppose there must be a first aid kit here somewhere.” He tried to push himself up, but his arm collapsed beneath him and he toppled over.

“H-hold on!” Angel cried. “I-I’ll…”

Arte sank deeper into the floor. “It’s… alright. Just… a little tired, is all.” As he drifted from consciousness, the door slid open, letting in the wail of a powerful engine running at full throttle. He passed out before the sound resolved into the entry of another passenger.